#already got confirmation she approves of it and any hand made offering so that’s good!

[dark-points]

Before and after: Circe’s altar edition! I picked this up from a thrift store for five bucks and am really happy with the results. Used four shades of gold paint, a random gold tassel I had lying around, and decoupaged a ton of artwork depicting her! It was a lot of fun designing this! It’s not entirely done as I am going to rig something on the bottom to hang a rolled up altar cloth (made of pig suede of course) under. I don’t have a ton of space so this will be hung up on the wall and anything involving more complicated spell work or candles will be done on the cloth in the safety of my kitchen counter or outside.

[slaymitchabernathy]

The Nanny

꧁ One Week Later ꧂

Soarynn brings her hands up to her mouth, blowing air onto them in hopes of warming them up. It snowed last night and the children have been itching to explore the fresh blanket of fallen snow since the second they woke up.

The girls giggle while they run around the snow-covered grounds, leaving behind tiny footprints. Soarynn smiles at the sight, doing her best to forget about how terrified she had been a week prior. To forget about the attack.

When they arrived at the Capitol the morning after, they moved silently. No one had been made aware of the conflict that took place in Four and Coriolanus planned on keeping it that way. They exited through the front of the train, heading down a dark maintainence tunnel where a car was waiting for them.

Very few people were told about the attack, such as Quintus Heavensbee and the family doctor who conducted several checks on Soarynn and the children once they were safely inside the President's Mansion. He told her that her nose wasn't broken, only swollen, and that the bruising around her eye would disappear. He also provided some healing salve to speed up the process.

He had offered to test for the possibility of any sexually transmitted diseases but she assured him that nothing had transpired while she was held captive. Part of her wondered if Coriolanus didn't entirely trust her, would he go to such lengths to confirm or deny her claim?

Coriolanus had locked himself away in his study the first day they got back from the trip, goodness knows how much work he would have to do. But he's been acting more...flippant. Asking her how she's doing more often, checking in on her more often, encouraging her to ask the staff for anything she might possibly need. As if she could ever need anything while living with him and his family.

He seems more caring but Soarynn wonders if it's because of the attack or what transpired after. The kiss.

Oh, that kiss has been the bane of her existence. Some of her wishes that she let it go further, that she spent the night in his embrace. But the other half of her is glad she didn't give in to her desires. Even though she really wanted to.

He had come up to her the following day with specific instructions that she could not under any circumstances leave the property with or without the children until he said so. Soarynn had been a bit put off by that order but he explained that no one could see her in this injured state, and he wasn't too keen on letting his children out of his sight at the moment. So, they stayed inside, they could go out onto the grounds so long as they didn't go beyond the fence. It's not like they could with the heightened Peacekeeper presence surrounding the Mansion.

The Snows were on high alert.

Soarynn had asked Eudora if they'd still be throwing the end-of-the-year party and Eudora confirmed that the party was still on as far as she knew. Soarynn hoped it would stay that way, the girls were so excited about it.

"Look Soarynn! I made a snow angel and I'm a Snow!"

Soarynn walks over to Ceraphina who's sitting in the snow, not a care in the world as to how cold it is outside right now. It had taken quite a bit of convincing to get the girls to wear coats, hats, and gloves before they braved the cold but Soarynn insisted that they wear the gloves. Caspian had already thrown his off, he hated the things and Soarynn had given up on making him wear them about an hour ago.

"What a beautiful angel," Soarynn says, giving Ceraphina a nod of approval. Celeste runs between the two of them, her pink scarf flying behind her like a cape. Celeste had insisted on wearing her favorite pink scarf as well, claiming that it was the "perfect accessory."

"There's Daddy," she points, looking up at the large windows overlooking the grounds.

Soarynn looks up as well, her heart beats a little faster when she spots Coriolanus looking down on them. "Wave to your father Cas," Soarynn says, lifting one of Caspian's little arms. Caspian mumbles something about Lenny who was not allowed to come to play in the snow for fear of him getting dirty and buries his head in her neck. Soarynn chuckles, pressing a kiss to his head, "You'll see Lenny soon when you take your nap."

She looks back up at Coriolanus one more time, offering him a wave this time, and to her surprise, he returns it. Another man joins him after a moment, Quintus Heavensbee from the looks of it and he also waves which is a big hit with the girls who gasp and also start waving. "Daddy can see us!" Celeste says, running up to Soarynn and clinging to her leg.

Soarynn nods, tearing her gaze away from the most conflicting man she's ever met to focus on his darling daughter, "He certainly can," she agrees, "and you look so stylish in your winter coat."

Both girls wore light pink coats today to match their hats while Soarynn dressed Caspian in a dark red coat, very similar to one that his father often wears when addressing the nation outside. Soarynn went with a cream-colored coat today, a brave choice while watching three children but she felt it made her look sophisticated. She'd taken off her gloves to hold Caspian better but she was beginning to regret her decision.

If only Caspian enjoyed the snow more. He liked it for about...two minutes. Then he was tugging at her pant leg, asking to be held which she happily obliged to. "Can we go inside can we have hot chocolate?" Ceraphina's question causes Soarynn's stomach to grumble in agreement, "Yes," she answers, "hot chocolate sounds delightful." It really does and then she could put Caspian down for a nap right after.

She had worried that the attack might've had severe psychological effects on the children but they glazed right over it. After losing their mother, perhaps nothing phased them anymore.

It certainly affected her but she was doing a good job at pretending like it didn't.

And she'd keep acting that way until she forgot how it felt to be thrown around, treated like she was nothing. She knew she wasn't nothing, she was just the nanny.

꧁ ꧂

"Does it hurt when I press down?"

Soarynn looks up at the ceiling while the doctor applies a slight pressure to her nose, it doesn't hurt anymore which is a relief. She had worried that her injury might have led to something more severe like a ruptured sinus or a disfigured nose.

"No, it doesn't," she answers.

The doctor hums, pulling his hand away from her face, "Good, it's almost back to normal. By the end of the week, you'll be good as new." Soarynn forces a polite smile onto her lips, fighting the urge to ask if he can prescribe anything to fix the damage that has been done to her on the inside, not the outside.

"Now, let's check on your eye. You haven't been experiencing any vision problems since I last saw you correct?" Soarynn shakes her head while carding a hand through her hair, "No, my vision hasn't been affected by the bruising."

The doctor pulls a tool out of his bag that shines a bright light on her face, "Keep your eye open," he instructs, "I just want to make sure the cornea is still intact." Soarynn has no idea what any of that means but she does as she's told and holds still, even though she can feel her eye beginning to water from the bright light.

Finally, he pulls away from her face and she lets out a breath of relief, "All is well then?" She asks, watching him pack up his things after scribbling down some notes. She wonders if he gives these reports to Coriolanus. He probably does. Nothing happens under his roof without him knowing about it.

"Yes," he confirms with a smile, "you seem to be right on track to a healthy recovery. Just remember, if your eye begins to bother you, use a hot and cold compress and have President Snow give me a call."

"Thank you doctor."

Soarynn watches the man walk out of her bedroom, leaving the doors slightly ajar and she falls back onto her bed, sighing loudly. She's been so tired lately, she hasn't been sleeping well since they got back home. She wonders if this might be some sort of post-traumatic disorder. Maybe she should've mentioned it to the doctor, or has he already noticed and told Coriolanus?

She certainly hasn't been slacking when it comes to her job as a nanny but she knows herself well enough to know that eventually, this will all catch up to her.

Maybe she can get some sleep now that the doctor's gone. She already put the children to bed. Sleep sounds good. Her eyes slowly drift shut and she focuses on breathing in and out, in, and out, in and… "Soarynn? Coriolanus wants to speak with you dear."

Soarynn rolls over to her stomach and groans into the mattress before pushing herself back up, "I'm coming," she calls back, not wanting Eudora to come in and find her like this, sulking and moping about. She slides off the bed, hoping she doesn't look as miserable as she feels before yanking open the doors, "Did he say what he wanted to talk to me about?"

Eudora shakes her head, waving for Soarynn to follow her, "I imagine it'll have something to do with the attack," she muses, leading them to the back staircase, "he's been working on interrogating all the Rebels who took you and the children hostage. You might need to identify some of the men who escaped."

Soarynn's mind immediately goes to Marvin who managed to slip off the boat and swim away unscathed. His friends couldn't say the same. But did they catch him?

"Soarynn?"

Soarynn blinks several times, pulled from her frequent thoughts of District Four, "I'm sorry, what did you say?" Eudora gives her a concerned look from over her shoulder as they make their way down the hallway, "I asked how everything went with the doctor. Did he say anything?"

Soarynn shakes her head, "No, nothing major to report. My nose and eye should be back to normal by the end of the week."

Eudora lets out a sigh of relief, "Well that's good to hear. It'd be a shame if those brutes managed to mark up your pretty face permanently." Soarynn merely hums in reply, both women coming to a stop in front of the ominous doors that lead to Coriolanus Snow's study.

"I'll be in my room should you need anything," Eudora tells her.

Soarynn nods and watches Eudora walk back down the hallway, she's been staying in her honorary bedroom since the attack, swarmed with paperwork and reports to sort through for Coriolanus.

Soarynn gently knocks on the doors, her gut feels like it's been twisted into a knot. "Come in," he calls from the other side.

Soarynn quietly opens the doors, closing them behind her. It's dark in his study, only the fireplace and a few lamps providing him with light as he works.

She slowly approaches his desk, unsure of how to conduct herself with her boss behind closed doors after the last time they were alone together. Coriolanus remains focused on his work, not even sparing her a glance when she sits down. Soarynn absentmindedly drums her fingers against the armrests of the chair, looking up at the ceiling and the carvings that look down on her.

"Your nose looks better."

Soarynn looks back down and across the desk at Coriolanus who sits back in his chair, pen in hand but his attention is now on her, "And your eye," he adds. Soarynn is now hyperaware of her appearance, she had taken off her makeup per the doctor's request and she had planned on trying to sleep right after he left which means she's barefaced once again.

"The doctor said I should be healed up by the end of the week."

"I know," he answers, his blue eyes scanning her face, "he also said that you haven't been getting enough sleep."

Soarynn tenses in her seat, "I never said I wasn't getting enough sleep."

His lips curl up into a smirk and he tilts his head, looking very handsome while doing so, "You don't need to tell him anything. He's a practiced man and he's been staring into your eye for the past few days, he can tell when someone hasn't been getting enough rest. Not to mention it's clear as day to the rest of us."

Soarynn frowns, she's been doing a good job at acting like everything is fine but maybe she hasn't been doing as good as she thought. "I'm fine," she insists, mimicking his relaxed body language, "Eudora said you might ask me about identifying our kidnappers."

Her attempt to switch topics has its intended effect and he drops his smirk and leans forward, adopting the stern persona she's more than used to dealing with by now. "Yes," he shuffles through some papers on his desk, "we apprehended everyone on the beach that wasn't shot on sight but we need you to confirm a few of these Rebels before we proceed."

He slides a file toward her and Soarynn tentatively reaches for it, opening it up to find Marvin's face staring up at her, "This is Marvin," she murmurs, flipping to the next page, finding the face of the man who was shot while trying to jump off looking up at her as well. "And this man was trying to escape," she brings her fingers up to her mouth, remembering how the blood tasted, "I...I saw him get shot. But he's dead now."

She flips through the remainder of the pages but finds no more familiar faces, "Those are the only two I came in contact with," she tells him, placing the file back on the desk, "what will happen to them?"

Coriolanus folds his hands, "I thought about turning them into Avoxes," Soarynn swallows at the casual threat, "but that was too merciful. They'll be executed along with the rest of the Rebels later this week and we'll televise the aftermath to deter any other Districts from trying anything before the year is up."

She sits back in her chair, he says it so casually as if talking about what they'll have for breakfast tomorrow.

"Do you think I should do something else to punish these men?"

Her eyes widen at his question, Soarynn could never conjure up such a punishment, her mind wouldn't allow it. "They said they wanted you to stop the Hunger Games," she recalls, watching his face carefully, "but I guess you won't be doing that."

Coriolanus shakes his head, "I won't be doing that," he confirms, "it's my job to keep the Hunger Games alive."

What a horrible job to have.

"Okay," she says softly, "I trust you to make the right decision."

They both stare at each other for a moment, blue meeting blue-gray. It's like two different oceans crashing against each other. Sometimes, she feels so close to him, other times, she wonders if they're living on the same planet. They've gotten closer but they're still so far away.

Like December and January, so close yet so far.

"How's Petunia doing?"

Soarynn didn't expect him to ask her that, but it gets her mind off of things and she appreciates that, "She's happy to be back in my presence," she says, remembering how excited Petunia had been when Sejanus dropped her off. The girls had been more excited than Soarynn, hugging and kissing Petunia.

Coriolanus hums, "That's good. The stables are done being built."

Soarynn perks up at the good news, "Oh the children will be so excited."

Soarynn had forgotten all about their little agreement to get the children a horse or two to ride and take care of but it’s sure to be a hit. She wonders if each of the children should have their own horse or if just one would be better suited for them at their age. It would certainly teach them to share better.

While Caspian doesn't mind sharing, his sisters certainly do which is rather ironic since they have everything they could possibly need.

Coriolanus studies her for a moment, his eyes lingering on her lips for far too long, "I thought we might discuss what happened on the train," he finally says. Soarynn's breath hitches in her throat, is this when he fires her again? She definitely put her own feelings before the children's. Maybe that kiss was a test and she miserably failed.

"Oh," is all she has to say, her cheeks burning with shame. Coriolanis sighs, running his fingers through his trussed curls. They always look so pristine at breakfast, perfectly styled for another day of work but by the end of the day, they look softer, he looks softer.

"I think we can both agree that emotions were running high," he says and Soarynn nods, there were a lot of emotions on that train, "and we've been dancing around the most pressing topic since we got back," he continues. Soarynn sits up straighter, preparing herself to be fired once again except this time, he has proof. He was there.

His lips on her lips.

"Are you going to fire me?"

Coriolanus looks taken aback at her question, his eyebrows furrowing, "Fire you?"

Soarynn nods, her head hanging in shame, "I crossed a line," she tells him, "the children are the most important thing to me and I let my emotions rule over my decisions."

Coriolanus looks absolutely dumbfounded, so completely and utterly lost. "Soarynn, I'm not going to fire you." She lifts her head, staring into his gorgeous eyes, he truly is a handsome man. "You're not?"

Coriolanus shakes his head and a small smile grows on his lips, "I think the girls might actually kill me if you left again. And I simply wanted to talk about the change in our dynamic." Now Soarynn is the one who looks confused.

"Our dynamic?" She repeats, puzzled by his words. Their dynamic is crystal clear to her. She's the nanny, he's the President of Panem. Simple enough.

"I haven't kissed another woman since Livia," he admits, scratching the back of his neck, "I haven't even looked at another woman since Livia, and yet the second you stepped foot into this house, I haven't been able to entirely focus on my job."

Looks like we're in the same boat, she thinks but she just nods at him to keep going. Coriolanus sighs, "These things can be tricky, I have an insurmountable amount of pressure on me to always be the perfect leader, the perfect boss, the perfect father, but being the perfect partner is something I've always failed at."

"No one is perfect," she tells him softly, "it's impossible to be perfect. Someone will always feel as though you're not doing enough."

That seems to hit him hard as he leans back in his seat, deep in thought. "I enjoyed it," he finally says, looking across at her, "I enjoyed kissing you, holding you. I enjoy being in your presence even though I can tell that you're always on edge around me." He smirks and Soarynn immediately feels flustered and called out.

"Well, well you're the President," she argues, "and my boss. It's natural for me to have a certain degree of nerves. A healthy fear if you will." His smirk drops and Soarynn's heart along with it. Did she say something wrong?

"I've always said that it's better to be feared than loved," he tells her, "when people love you and you love them, they aren't afraid to push back. If people fear you, then they won't risk any pushback. It's the things we love most that destroy us."

Soarynn knows all about that. She loved her father with all her heart and his death absolutely destroyed her. Coriolanus loves his children with all his heart and people took them away from him, used them as leverage against him. But they used her too, which leads her to wonder how he felt about that.

"I don't want you to fear me Soarynn."

Maybe this attack left scars on him too, only on the inside but scars nonetheless. And maybe she'll be allowed to see them someday.

"You want me to love you?"

A pained look crosses his face, a look she's all too familiar with, the look of remembering what once was, what he used to have with another woman that wasn't her. Livia has left scars all over his body.

"I don't think I'm capable of loving anyone outside of my children," he admits, "but, I do think I'm capable of opening up again."

Soarynn can feel her heart beating so fast. It feels so hot in this room all of a sudden. So suffocating.

"Okay," is all she says.

Coriolanus holds out his hand, beckoning her to come over to him, "Come here," he says, calmly and quietly. Soarynn is shaking as she pushes herself from her chair. This is so different from the train. Their dynamic is different. She's dressed differently.

Still, she walks around the desk.

She's never been on this side of his desk but she bets he feels so powerful sitting behind it. He looks powerful now, with his shirt slightly unbuttoned and his legs spread as he turns to face her. She places her hand in his and he wraps his fingers around it, gently pulling her towards him until she's standing in between his legs.

Coriolanus takes his other hand and rests it on her bare thigh, causing Soarynn to draw in a shaky breath. She's never done any of this. Will he teach her or will he expected her to know how things are done in the bedroom? They're not even in a bedroom right now. They're in his study like she's some sweet little secret he doesn't want to get out.

His hand slides up further and further under her nightgown and stops when he reaches her inner thigh, inches away from her covered core. He looks up at her with those blue eyes, clouded with lust and desire. He tugs her forward and she gasps, within one swift motion, she's seated in his lap, essentially straddling him.

His lips are crashing against hers within seconds.

Coriolanus slides both hands under her nightgown, grabbing her waist and he groans. Soarynn whimpers when his teeth gently tug at her bottom lip, this is all so new to her, so new and overwhelming. He is overwhelming. All she can smell is roses.

She doesn't know what to do with her hands so she rests them on his broad shoulders, he feels so strong.

One of his hands slides down her back, resting on her ass and squeezing it. Soarynn moans into the kiss, and goosebumps cover her skin. He pulls away from the kiss only to start kissing up and down her jaw, pressing kisses on her neck as well. Soarynn sighs, staring up at the ceiling again, wondering if this is how all their encounters will go from now on. Secret and rushed.

His other hand leaves her waist, sliding out from under her nightgown to grab her throat. He applies a slight pressure to the sides of her neck and Soarynn gasps, her head feels hazy, her breaths are shortened and she's panicking.

She's remembering.

Remembering what those men said about her. How good she'd feel. How she's the President's whore.

Whore. Slut. The President's little plaything.

Her vision is growing spotty and his lips are getting more aggressive. Soarynn can feel his fingers sliding under the waistband of her panties. She tries to buck his hand off but he must think that she's into this, into him.

"Good girl," he praises, sucking on the tender skin under her ear.

Soarynn squeezes her eyes shut and uses all the strength in her body to shove him back. "Stop," she gasps, opening her eyes again, "stop, please stop." His hands disappear from her body instantly but she still feels like she's being choked, being touched. Touched by them, by those men who talked about fucking her while she was tied up.

Soarynn gasps for air, tears burn in her eyes.

"Soarynn," he starts, his eyes filled with concern and confusion but she's already shaking her head, already trying to get off of his lap.

Everything is so fuzzy and she ends up falling backward onto the floor. Pain shoots through her body but the adrenaline takes over and she pushes herself onto her feet, "I'm sorry," she whispers, shame flooding her voice, "I...I can't."

She rests a hand on the edge of his desk as she walks around it, ignoring his calls for her. She stumbles towards the doors, opening them and welcoming the fresh air.

"Soarynn," he calls again.

She ignores him.

She ignores everything while walking back down the hallway, a million terrible thoughts racing through her mind. She manages to make it to the back staircase and she leans against the banister for a second, catching her breath.

She can still feel his hands on her body and she hates it.

Soarynn grabs onto the railing and pulls herself onto the stairs, making her way up them at a pathetic rate. When she reaches the top, she's out of breath. She wonders what he's thinking, if he's following her, or if he's really going to fire her now that she's truly lost it.

Tears begin to stream down Soarynn's face but she keeps walking, desperate to go to her room and sleep all of this away. She walks past Ceraphina's room and chokes back a sob, she can't believe she made such a foolish risk like that when the children are her main priority.

How could she be so stupid?

When she finally gets to her own room, she slams the doors closed behind her, sinking down onto the floor. Soarynn pulls her knees up to her chest and allows herself to properly cry. Would this all be different if her father hadn't died? If Livia hadn't died? Are they both watching her run around with the President of Panem like she's living in some delusional fairy tale?

Her entire frame trembles as she cries, her gasps echo throughout her room. She's so tired, so exhausted both mentally and physically. When does it all end? The anxiety, the unknown, the battle between her heart and her head?

A soft purring momentarily distracts her from the world falling apart and she looks up from her spot on the floor to find Petunia staring up at her, those eyes identical to her own filled with unending devotion in a world full of conditions. "Oh Petunia," she whispers, "I ruined everything." More tears threaten to spill down her cheeks but Soarynn forces them back.

Coriolanus was right about one thing.

She's not getting enough sleep and she's exhausted. She knows that the lack of sleep isn't doing her or her emotions any favors. "Let's go to bed," she mumbles, reaching out for her loyal feline. Petunia allows her to scoop her up and Soarynn slowly stands to her feet, more stable now that she's had a proper breakdown. She doesn't even get under the covers, she just flops onto the bed and finally, finally gives into sleep.

꧁ ꧂

When Soarynn wakes up she can hear birds chirping accompanied by the sound of a small person breathing beside her.

She cracks one eye open and finds Celeste watching her intently. "Good morning," she whispers causing Soarynn to smile, she probably looks rough right now but Celeste isn't one to comment on one's outward appearance. That's her sister's specialty.

"Good morning darling," she replies, reaching out to rest a loving hand on her cheek. Celeste leans into her touch and her eyes hold worry and fear, "Daddy said you were sick so you couldn't come to breakfast, are you really sick?" Soarynn swallows, she must've slept through her alarm which means Coriolanus thinks she's avoiding him.

Which she is but that's a hard thing to do in his own house.

At least he came up with a good lie to cover up her absence. She feels bad though, missing breakfast means that either Coriolanus or Eudora had to wake the children up. "I'm not feeling my best," she answers truthfully, sitting up slowly, "but I don't think I'm sick."

Celeste lets out a sigh of relief and nods, "Okay good, I don't want you to get sick like Mommy did."

Soarynn feels her heart break into a million pieces.

She can't imagine the fear and anxiety that the children must deal with whenever the adults in their lives get sick or injured. The slightest cough must send them over the edge and here she is, sleeping through breakfast because she can't handle a bit of intimacy.

Get it together, she chides herself while patting the spot on the bed next to her, "Come sit darling." Celeste smiles at the opportunity to get into someone else's bed and attempts to jump onto the bed but she's still too little so Soarynn swoops her up, making her giggle. "Who woke you up?" Soarynn asks, running a hand through Celeste's curls. She's still dressed in her pajamas which means it's still early in the morning.

Celeste cuddles against her, "Eudora did. Then Daddy let me try some of his coffee but but was so yucky Soarynn." She grins at a very true statement, Soarynn has never been too fond of coffee even though it always smells delicious. Her father would always drink it at breakfast. He'd read the paper while they spent their mornings together, Soarynn preparing for school and her father preparing for work.

She misses those moments.

"At least you tried it," Soarynn tells her, "it's important to try new things." Celeste hums, playing with the hem of Soarynn's nightgown, "Can we go to the park today?" Soarynn wishes they could, the children are beginning to grow stir crazy and she can't really blame them. "Once my eye and nose look better then we can go," she tells Celeste who looks up at her face to assess the damage. "I'm sorry we couldn't help you," she says quietly, her eyes dropping back down.

Soarynn frowns, has Celeste been carrying around this guilt the entire time? And Ceraphina for that matter? Heaven knows what Caspian has been thinking about since they got back home.

Soarynn insistently shakes her head, quick to deter any of these terrible thoughts, "You all were a great help to me, darling. You kept me calm and you helped me when I fell. And most importantly, you listened to me. You all trusted me and I...I," Soarynn feels herself getting choked up but for different reasons this time, "I love you all very much. I can't imagine a world without you children in it."

Celeste's own face reflects the same feeling of endearment, her eyes look so much like his, and yet Soarynn knows exactly where her heart lies.

Coriolanus Snow might be a mystery to her but his children never are.

꧁ ꧂

Later that day, Soarynn finds herself at the Capitol Stables.

This is the last place she expected to be but according to Eudora, Coriolanus wants Soarynn to select the perfect horse for the children. She still hasn't seen Coriolanus since last night but she's perfectly fine with that.

"Did you ever go to the races?" Sejanus Plinth's question pulls her from her faraway thoughts about Coriolanus Snow and back into the present where they're strolling through the Stables, looking at all the horses in their stalls.

"I did," she answers, "my father loved watching the races and I loved the horses." Horse racing is a well-practiced sport in the Capitol, known for its wealthy spectators and expensive bets placed on the horses. During the off-season the Stables are open for people to visit the horses and even purchase one of their own should they choose to do so.

Soarynn has been the arena where the races take place but never the Stables, not until now that is. She didn't know what to expect and since Eudora would be watching the children, she had invited Sejanus to accompany her. She felt safer with someone beside her, and Sejanus had taken such great care of Petunia while they were gone.

Sejanus nods, "They're beautiful creatures," he agrees, "how was District Four by the way?" Soarynn pales a bit at his question, but she recovers smoothly, "It was cold," she answers, "but beautiful. The ocean is a force to be reckoned with."

They stop at one of the stalls where a spotted horse sticks its head out to greet them, "Oh, aren't you a pretty thing?" Soarynn asks, reaching out to scratch its head. They both chuckle when the horse leans out further, just like Petunia asking for pets. "Is there a specific color you're after?" Sejanus asks, resting a hand on its neck. Soarynn purses her lips, she wasn't given any specific instructions as to what to look for but she can imagine that Coriolanus would want something that screams 'The Snow Family.'

"Something white," she decides, giving the horse a pat farewell, "Coriolanus would like that."

Sejanus grins, "First name basis huh?" Her cheeks burn pink as she starts walking again, "You're not funny you know," she says, quickening her pace, "and he insisted that I be on a first-name basis with him." She slows her pace when she comes across a beautiful horse, all white, "Hello there," she greets, gripping the stall door. Sejanus comes up next to her, looking the horse up and down, "I'd say he matches your description, and as for Coriolanus, I'm simply surprised that he insisted. He's been so closed off since Livia."

Soarynn hums, watching the horse slowly walk up to them, its tail flicking behind it, "I know," she murmurs, "and I barely even speak to him as it is. We're both far too busy with our jobs." Lies, lies, lies.

Sejanus looks like he doesn't believe her but she chooses to ignore it. She's been choosing to ignore a lot of things lately.

꧁ ꧂

When Soarynn comes back from the Stables, all three of the Snow children rush to greet her. She must admit, it was nice to leave for a while, see the city again. Eudora had instructed her to apply a liberal amount of makeup to cover up any bruising or swelling and since Sejanus hadn't commented on any of it, she must've done a good job.

"You're back!" Ceraphina says, throwing her arms around Soarynn's legs. Soarynn almost tumbles back but Sejanus prevents that from happening, quickly steadying her, "Where are my hugs huh?" He teases, earning him more excited gasps. The children see Soarynn every day, Sejanus is a rare treat when it comes to visitors.

While Celeste and Ceraphina flock around Sejanus asking him all sorts of questions, Caspian slowly but surely toddles over to Soarynn, holding his hands out for balance. Soarynn grins at the sweet sight, "Come here sweet boy," she croons, bending down to pick him up. She sometimes finds it hard to believe that such a sweet child can exist in a world like this, that evil men had no issue holding up a gun to his head.

It makes her feel even worse about what happened last night.

A week ago she was fearing for her life and now she's having sexual relations with their father. What the hell is wrong with her?

He's probably stressed, she tells herself while watching the girls interact with Sejanus, he just needed to blow off some steam, this'll all blow over by the end of the week.

And it will. She'll work up the courage to talk to Coriolanus about all of this, get their relationship back on a professional track, and move forward.

Simple as that.

"Are you coming to the party Sejanus?" Ceraphina's question reminds Soarynn about the party that they'll be throwing at the end of the year. She's a bit surprised that Coriolanus is still going through with it but at the same time, she understands his need for normalcy and moving forward. If you dwindle in the past for too long, you're bound to be left behind.

And Soarynn refuses to be left behind.

"I am," Sejanus confirms with a nod of his head, "I can't wait to see you two tear it up on the dance floor again." The girls giggle at the memory of the last party they had but it only brings up more sour memories for Soarynn who only remembers how the night ended for her.

She presses a kiss to Caspian's blonde hair, if he hadn't spoken up for her, she might not be in this position right now.

She just doesn't know if that's a bad thing or a good thing.

꧁ ꧂

"Coriolanus, I wanted to discuss what our professional relationship has turned into. We're both adults and I would never want to jeopardize my job for the sake of physical intimacy."

Soarynn nods at her reflection in the mirror, "Just say that and you'll be fine," she mumbles, raking her fingers through her hair. The children are finally asleep and she's getting nervous. She could just go to bed, and pretend nothing happened last night but that would be childish, not to mention highly unprofessional.

As if kissing him while straddling him isn't considered unprofessional.

Still, one must make necessary strides toward things that are important to them. And keeping her job and not abandoning her children is very important to her.

Soarynn takes a few deep breaths before she feels prepared to face him. But it’ll feel like a long walk to his study. That’s fine, she can think about her stupid mentions and their consequences on the way down the hall.

Soarynn quietly opens her doors so she doesn’t somehow wake the children and can’t hide her look of surprise when she sees an Avox waiting outside of her bedroom. The Snows only hire Avoxes to do things such as cleaning and waiting on them so that no private information can be spread.

Soarynn has often shuddered at the thought of losing her tongue. How would she sing and laugh?

She swallows, taking a step back when the placid faced Avox moves towards her, holding out something in their hand. It takes her a moment to realize that it’s a letter. A letter that looks identical to the one she had waiting for her in her closet when she first moved in.

Soarynn takes the letter.

“Thank you,” she says quietly, only getting a silent nod in reply. Well, she can’t expect much.

She closes the doors behind her, the original mission long forgotten as she tears open the letter, breaking the seal with a rose embossed on it.

Her fingers shake as she unfolds the perfectly folded paper.

Soarynn, You won’t find me in my study tonight, some work-related issues have been brought to my attention and as you know, I intend to solve every problem sent my way. As for the growing problem between us, allow me to offer my deepest apologies for any pain I might have caused you. If I moved too fast or hurt you in any way please know that was never my intention. Despite the internal struggles within our complex relationship, I still find myself drawn to you like a moth to a flame. You’ll find me to be a terribly possessive man who doesn’t back down from a fight easily. Whenever you’re ready, I trust you’ll know where to find me. Until then, sleep well and look after my children for me. Yours truly, Coriolanus

Soarynn nearly crumples the letter in her hands. How is it possible for a man to make her feel so many things at once?

He knows what he’s doing, she’ll give him that. But why her? There’s a part of her that still worries this might just be a ploy to get into her pants. The other part, the optimistic part, thinks and hopes that this might be more. That Coriolanus might see her as an equal, as someone to cherish and spend time with.

She just wishes she could figure out which one she’d prefer.

But after reading that letter, it seems she has no choice but to play his little game. It’s fine, she tells herself, thinking about those men who were so easily sniped from the shore, those men whose lives were so easily discarded by Coriolanus.

There are much worse games to play.

| Part 8. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

꧁| tag list: @lovelylove268 @strawberriicakes @kickmybark @iswearicanfixhim @wonderlandbound111 @melodyoflovee @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead |꧂

[forkanna]

Veronica Lodge decided that Operation: Take Down Cheryl Blossom had a pretty obvious first step: gathering intel. Over the next several days, Veronica took it upon herself to pump the rumor mill for any and all information she could gather. Even though she had barely heard this Cheryl say two words, she already didn't trust her, and knew that their best course of action was for her and Betty to oust her from their lives ASAP.

Apparently, Betty couldn't bring herself to be quite so underhanded, but she did jot down anything she overheard from students in the halls. Veronica wished she was a little more willing to get her hands dirty, but then again, her scruples were a big part of her admiration for the erudite blonde. Betty also dropped by the administration offices to see if she might learn anything from her permanent file - and given that she was on good terms with Miss Phlips, the principal's secretary, she didn't entirely fail. Though she couldn't look at the file directly, she did at least confirm one fact.

"So she is from Pembrooke," Veronica hissed thoughtfully as she drummed her fingertips on the tabletop of their booth at Pop Tate's. "I knew those skimpy shorts were from Neiman Marcus or somewhere even more pricey - and not some trashy bargain bin store!"

"Yeah, like we needed to be able to see every inch of what we don't have to work with. I mean, at least I don't; you can give her a run for her money."

Ronnie set her water glass down a little more heavily than she meant to. "What? Come on, Betty - you may be no… well, me, but you're the whole package! Don't let that voluptuous vixen get you down!"

"Well, I am down," her best friend lamented, sagging lower in her seat. The compliment from Ron helped, but she was too down from having to fight yet another bombshell for her intended. "You weren't here the past couple of weeks, Ronnie - you didn't see how he lost his carrot top around her! I'm just glad they only bumped into each other a couple of times, or I might have had to commit Harry Caray before you made it back."

"That's 'harakiri', you know."

They both turned around to see a shorter brunette from the booth behind Veronica doing the same, a small, mischievous smile already on her lips. Veronica sneered and said, "Hey, don't you know it's rude to eavesdrop on someone else's conversation?"

"But it's my job. And Harry Caray was a sports announcer,  not a form of ritual suicide." She offered her hand over the top of the booth back. "Tomoko Yoshida, journalist for the Blue And Gold."

"We know who you are, Tomoko," Betty offered - which was lucky, because Veronica had been about to say that she had no idea who this girl was. Though she didn't spend a lot of time with the staff of the school paper, other than Betty and Nancy - and she only saw them outside of the journalism room. "I've submitted a few editorials, remember?"

"Of course I remember. I'm just used to the Fab Five forgetting who us peons are."

Well, Veronica had to bite. "Fab Five…?" 

"You two, plus Archie, Reggie, and Jughead. The Archies - though I always thought that was a little vain of him to name the entire band after himself. I know he sings lead, but it's kind of-"

"Okay, alright," Veronica sighed impatiently. "So what it is you want, Kokomo, besides to horn in on a private discussion of current events?"

"Cheryl," Tomoko said with a slight grimace as she got up, bringing her beverage and plate of fries with her, and plopped down next to Betty - probably because she had been the less hostile of the two. Veronica caught a whiff of sakura perfume that was definitely of higher caliber than the cheap stuff one could find at the mall; she approved. "Transferring to Riverdale isn't even a lateral move; it's a downgrade."

"Exactly what I've been thinking," Veronica agreed immediately. "Like, if she's from Pembrooke, what is she doing here?"

"If you're from Pembrooke, what are you doing here?" Tomoko asked with a raised eyebrow. Veronica only had time to open her mouth before she laughed and said, "Kidding. You had a brush with juvenile delinquency, your parents decided to humble you. Greased Superintendent Hassle's palm so the districting wouldn't pose a problem."

"The what-ing?!" she demanded.

"How the school board and city zoning decide which students have to go to what school," Betty offered, actually keeping up with this smug chatterbox. Veronica didn't like admitting how lost she was. "Based on where Lodge Manor is, I think… you technically were supposed to have been going to Pembrooke if you could afford it, or… Southside High."

Tomoko nodded as she put her drink back down. "At the very least, it would have been uncertain. No way a rich control freak like Hiram Lodge would let you achieve secondary education in a rough neighborhood like Southside - not even to teach you a lesson. He wanted you to grow up, not get shanked."

"Do you have to insult Daddy like that?" she shot at her.

"Do you have to call him 'Daddy' at your age?" she shot back with a grimace. "Ew."

"I don't have to sit here and take this!"

"I'm just being honest. And I think not enough people are honest with you, Veronica."

"Anyway," Betty cut across both of them, eyes meaningfully wide. "What do you know about Cheryl? Probably more than us."

"Actually… no. And that's intriguing - because the information should be out there, but it isn't. In fact, I can't find out anything about Cheryl Blossom from before this past year, when she was studying abroad in Paris."

The table fell silent for a few seconds. Veronica adjusted a shoulder strap of her inadequate garment before saying, "Alright, that… that is definitely new information. Where the hell has she been if that's all that's out there?"

"Maybe her transcripts were lost overseas," Betty suggested.

"Even if they were, Pembrooke should have something on file. They don't." Tomoko looked between them, her dark eyes sparkling with excitement. "How could she just appear from nowhere like that? And what kind of money would her parents have to have paid to make that happen? I know they're richer than the Lodges, but still-"

"Hey, watch yourself," Veronica fired up, clenching her fists on the table-top. "That is a viciously untrue rumor - in fact, Daddy bought up most of the Blossom stock when it crashed! He practically owns Clifford Blossom and his entire tech empire now!"

Tomoko smirked. "There's that derision toward the nouveau riche. I was wondering when it would come up."

"Do you want to work with us on this, or are you trying to make enemies today?!"

"I can't do both?" When Veronica literally stood up, she laughed and held up both hands, palms outward. "Kidding! Well, kind of. It's a reporter's job to push buttons, throw people off their game so they slip up and divulge more than they intended. Don't hate the player, hate the game."

"And we do want your help," Betty attempted to soothe them both as Ronnie finally sat back down, even if she was technically talking to Tomoko. "More than anything, we want to make sure Archie isn't being taken for a ride by some criminal."

"Or horning in on your territory, right?" Betty only blushed, but the reporter nodded. "I can sympathize. A love triangle is hard enough without turning it into a… love rhombus. Besides, even though the answer is probably going to be a lot more boring and mundane than we hope, I still plan on doing my due diligence and finding out if Cheryl's up to something shady."

The three of them nodded in agreement, as if this were the beginning of a war council. Which, in the relative terms of high school drama, it sort of was.

  ~ o ~

  Before their new associate took off, they all exchanged numbers to make it easier to stay in contact. Veronica and her best friend finished up their food and parted ways, since Betty was going to do her usual hanging around by the football field to see if Archie would talk to her. It reeked of desperation - or so Veronica had decided after doing so herself a few times, and noticing she wasn't the only one trying to catch his eye.

However, as she slammed the door of her expensive sports car and flipped the switch to put the top back, a voice from the passenger seat said, "She doesn't know, does she?"

"AHHH!"

Tomoko blinked a few times before laughing, a little strained from the way Veronica had her shirt bunched around her throat now. "Wow, are we going straight to second base? Pretty bold, Lodge."

"Are we g-" She instantly released Tomoko, now that such an insinuation was out there. "How did you even get in here?!"

"You don't lock your doors. By the way, I'm homoromantic but asexual, so even if you were trying to feel me up you wouldn't get anywhere. Not that I was seriously accusing you of that; just a little humor to diffuse a potentially violent situation."

Distinctly flustered by this entire encounter, Veronica started up her car just to give herself something to focus her attention on. "Well, can you get your asexual ass out of my car?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"I don't even know what you're talking about, so how am I supposed to answer it?"

"You do." Neither of them spoke for a moment as the classic sounds of Paul Revere & The Raiders drifted out of the stereo system. "All I have to do is say the word 'Blaine' and you won't be able to deny-"

"Don't." She swallowed hard, white-knuckling on the steering wheel. "What do you want from me? Money? Favors for favors? What is this?"

Tomoko frowned at her. "Wow, I certainly must make a terrible impression. All I wanted to know was why you haven't told a friend as close as Betty why you're really going to Riverdale High instead of Pembrooke Academy."

"It's none of her business. And none of yours, either, you know; I can't help it if you're a Nosey Parker."

"Okay, I have to ask - who talks like that? Why do all of you guys talk like that? It's pretty weird." But instead of waiting for an answer, she continued, "If we keep digging into the Blossoms, it might become difficult to keep your own skeletons in your closet. That's not a threat; I'm just making a point. Don't you think it would be a lot less embarrassing coming from you instead of the school newspaper?"

This time, Veronica turned and looked at the diminutive journalist as if seeing her for the first time. "Wait… you're not about to air all my dirty laundry in front of the whole school? Isn't that kind of your thing?"

"It is when it can do some good. I'm not a gossip columnist, Veronica; I have some journalistic integrity."

"Oh." She mentally chewed on that for a moment before looking over at her again. "But you won't hide those details for my sake if it turns out to be part of your juicy story about Cheryl."

"Look at you, catching on," she responded with a slight smirk. "But as a friend, even if we barely know each other, I wanted to offer you fair warning instead of letting you get blindsided. Clearly, I already know enough of the story that I'm not trying to pump you for the rest. Just… something for you to think about in terms of your friendships."

"Right… well, I don't know why you think you owe me anything, since like you just said, you don't know me that well."

"Oh, I know you pretty well. You just don't know me . But that's no big deal."

"Maybe we can get to know each other a little better while working on cracking this case. I have a feeling having an acquaintance who works on the school paper could come in handy."

"And maybe having a wealthy benefactor could come in handy in the future. Not that I need one now," she quickly reassured her. 

"Maybe, maybe. I guess we'll find out." The two of them shook hands firmly - and she noticed Tomoko's definitely had some slight calluses on the fingertips, probably from excessive typing, but they were otherwise pretty soft.

"Excellent. Take care, Veronica; we'll speak again soon."

Once Tomoko had exited the car and was heading off toward her own - a beat up old Corolla that looked like it was going to fall apart at a moment's notice - Veronica backed her own out of Pop Tate's parking lot. She might as well head home, take some time to herself to relax and put all this craziness out of her mind. She was fired up, but they had done just about all they could do today; might as well wait for their new ally to come through.

"I can't believe this is coming back to haunt me," she muttered to herself as she steered through the streets of the quaint little burg. "I've worked so hard to establish my reputation all on my own, to quash all those rumors… how dare a Blossom show up at Riverdale High! After all this time! What have I done to deserve this?"

The answer was, quite a lot. In her heart of hearts, she knew that she hadn't been the best friend she could be - even if she was a work in progress. Of course she had been furious at having to slum it at the local public high school instead of finishing out her secondary education at the prestigious academy, continuing the lifestyle to which she had become accustomed. But in hindsight, it had done her a world of good to have to interact with normal people. "Townies". Even though she had been blissfully unaware of how spoiled she was, and in some ways probably continued to be, now she had slowly begun to gain perspective. Even if she still tended to treat her new friends as lesser, she was getting better and better about that as the months turned into years.

And now, that was all going away. The gang finding out about the kinds of things she used to get up to at Pembrooke probably wouldn't make them automatically dump her as a friend, but perhaps that combined with the knowledge that she had kept it from them…

"Tomoko's right," she whispered, feeling her heart sinking even further. "At the very least, I should probably tell Betty."

That was another painful memory for her now. Yes, Betty was dirt poor and seemed to wear nothing but secondhand clothing and bargain bin rejects, but even though she tried not to think about it or admit it to anyone else, she was even more deeply ashamed of how she had treated the blonde when she first arrived at her new school. Like she was less than human. Especially…

Especially when time had shown her just how incredible Betty Cooper really was. She would never admit it to another living soul, but she would have given anything to be more like her. And Betty could never find that out.

Veronica blinked in surprise when she realized she was pulling into a space at the local shopping mall. Hadn't she been going home? Of course, now that she was here…

"Maybe a little retail therapy will help," she purred as she grabbed her purse. "After all, Daddy's platinum card could probably use some exercise…"

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Fixed: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 4 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 3: Love So Soft

Main Masterlist

A/N: It’s shorter than my usual updates but I’m busy so sorry for the delay. My final exam dates have come and all I can do is pray right now lol. Please pray for me if you can, this sis is out here writing fanfics for yall instead of studying so, haha. ANyways, enjoy babies! Shit happens in this chapter.

Warning: Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can’t ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can’t get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Word count: 5K

Chapter 4: Fixed

You didn’t sleep that night. Or the next few. Your hands shook every time you got a flashback and even though you were numb to emotions that entire day, tears threatened to spill whenever your mind took to you to that overpriced kitchen again.

Now that he had gone to a dangerous and unnerved assaulter from a Dad trying to take care of his daughter, your mind wouldn’t put anything past him. You knew that in the back of your mind that he was a mobster and your ‘friendship’ was alarming to say the least, but now there was no denying his resources and power and the very obvious threat to your life lingering in the air.

At least before you had the luxury to be oblivious and ignorant, not anymore though. Steve felt even more unhinged and liberal now, even messaging you daily, greeting texts that you obviously ignored. He knew you both were aware that you never handed him your number and he felt no need to hide his pursuit.

You read most of the messages, not bothering with a single reply though. You tried to block him but somehow your phone would still receive messages from his number, even though his contact would always peek back at you from the otherwise empty blacklist.

As if his torment wasn’t ample, another message thread from a different number would forward you alarming images, photos of Grace in her daycare, on a class trip to the park and even her playing in your backyard. You had no doubt that this was another game of his to show you his resources.

You skipped daycare for a few days, your mental health worse than it was after the carnival attack, because now you had a personal tormentor and you cursed yourself for falling into this mess. At times, you believed it wasn’t your fault really, you just helped a kid and this situation spiraled itself but what would pointing fingers now get you? The harsh truth was you were in a calamitous situation now and every step from now on had to be thought out.

So, you let Grace attend her daycare and acted if nothing was amiss or altered, after the few initial breakdown days of course, kept going to your job and earning the bread. You considered your options, you really wanted to go to the cops or a higher fair power but those were few these days, almost non existent in your city. You also vaguely recalled meeting three of the Captains of the PD at Sarah’s birthday, all smiley and doe eyed for Steve. You knew they wouldn’t help, fucking kiss-asses.

Maybe you would have to move somewhere else, perhaps to your hometown, at least till things cooled down or better yet were forgotten? But that trail was very predictable and you didn’t want your parents in this mess.  

You also came to know that Steve had inserted himself in the other spheres of your life. You were sure your location was always being sent to him, the knowledge a courtesy of the black car following you while you travelled to home at some late day’s end.

Aiden told you whereabouts were easy to track, when you inquired ambiguously. Another instance was when you went to the bank to deposit cash for your debit card, you came face to face with an enormous amount already there. Somehow, the limit on your credit card was also extended. How, you knew. The clerk told you about an email you must have gotten in regards to it, you dismissed that justification away and told them to not accept the cash. To sum the discussion, they weren’t helpful and had no policy against anonymous donors.

Aiden, your trusted coworker cum pal, sensed the shift in your aura and fidgety form very easily, pestering you with questions and you decided to turn to him, stressed and tired and ready to do something. His questioning eyebrows made you confess vaguely but you refused to tell him the extent of it. Just that his prediction came true and you needed help. Let’s just say, Aiden was a good man.

With time, Steve’s ‘affectionate’ messages became deranged, and you found it harder to act nonchalant in your daily life. You were thankful he didn’t come to visit you, possibly occupied with the rumored war between the mobs. You just prayed for a few more days of ignorance, just enough time to think and do something.

“What do you mean someone collected her?!” You had a hard time controlling your voice, you were about to burst, in tears or with anger, you didn’t know.

“The man was verified in the emergency contacts and we got a letter signed and approved by you to skip the day an hour into the first activity.”

“A man? Emergen-, wait no! What fucking approved letter?”

You had three emergency contacts, your mom in another state, Aiden, and one of the other kid’s mom you had grown close to. Aiden was with you at work all day, so did someone disguise themselves as him? And what was the deal with the letter signed by you? You surely didn’t remember writing and authorizing one.

The boy, Pietro, who had been the receptionist for as long as you could remember, shuffled through the chaotic piles of paper and presented a letter to you, and your blood froze as your eyes skimmed the font.

Your beautiful cursive stared right back at you and you knew that no one would ever be able to distinguish between this penmanship and the one in the pocketbook in your clutch. No one but you. Even though you knew you had not written it, the slightly different ‘f’ and ‘g’ told you everything.

Your signature at the bottom though, was done quite perfectly and that made you even more scared.

“I did-, I didn’t write this! What the-” Your widened eyes met Pietro’s from above the paper but all he offered you was a meek smile. Your hands shook with rage and for the first time in your life, you had the urge to slap someone really bad.

“Maybe your family had an emergency to take he-”

“No, you don’t get it!” You stopped yourself from getting frantic, willing yourself to take deep breaths and think rationally. Today of all days, things had to mess up.

He didn’t know you had no family in this city, that you had a mobster after you or the subtle threats that his hired spy sent to you.

Was going to the police an option? Aiden already told you that the cops were as good as Steve’s men. But this was about your missing kid! You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to her. And you were giving Steve way too much credit, what if he wasn’t behind this all? Come to think of it, what if the other number wasn’t his?

Relax yourself! Thinking of disturbing theories wouldn’t help anyone. You thought you should go to the cops, just in case. No mentioning of Steve, just a woman with a ‘missing child’ report.

‘Missing Child’ left an acrid taste behind and you were too close to a breakdown, but your whole journey of single-parenthood taught you to kick vulnerability aside, well most of the times.

You turned and were about to leave, but Pietro stopped you. “If you are going to the cops Ma’am, they require 8 hours of inactivity or disappearance time for kids under 5.”

Well look who just read your mind.

You huffed and kept the tears at bay, your mind thinking of what to do then? Grace was obviously taken-

“How could you let a toddler leave without informing the parents?” You knew your anger was channeling out at the wrong man but didn’t he all but hand Grace to the stranger?

You beat him answering and inquired, “What did the man look like? Do you have any footage? Anything?” The wrinkles in your forehead and stress creases on your face paired with the eyebags betrayed your age surely. You were sure you had aged more this week than an entire decade, juggling your normal life with the hovering threat.

“You shouldn’t be this worried Ma’am.”

The fucking audacity.

“Your daughter recognized him, she all but ran to him and this other little girl he came with. You should maybe ask your parent-friends around? A blonde family perhaps?”

As all the emotions drained from your face and terror took over, the young lad in front of you looked smug. You wondered as if you imagined the faintest of smirks on his face.

You crumpled the letter in your hands, seething with rage as you stepped in your car. Oh, you were mad, more wrathful than ever. You could take any hits on you, any threat but not on Grace, never on her.

You were stupid, you had already decided you wouldn’t put anything past him but unknowingly, you did put this past him. You thought this man had a shred of decency to not use your kid in this adult war, being a parent himself and all but what a surprise! You were wrong.

You drove to your home, your thoughts a mix of trepidation, anxiety and fury. You were scared of him and his reach and resources but if he put Grace in any type of danger; whether to teach you a lesson or use her as bait or both, there’d be consequences.

Lord knows you killed a man a month ago Grace was threatened.

You had one thing to do before contacting Steve about Grace but you never got to do it because unexpectedly the bastard was in your home. In your home.

The black sports car outside was a huge giveaway but your suspicions were confirmed when you opened the door with your house key. The banter and giggles from inside alarmed yet calmed you; the dread of confrontation and the assurance of Grace’s safety reigned your mind.

As the door opened painfully slow like a horror movie, the sight that met your eyes made you sick with a feeling of failure. It wasn’t gore or blood or grunge, it was Steve bouncing Grace in the air and catching her while Sarah twirled around in the living room.  

This man was craftier than you thought, every action of his was calculated, each a refined step. You had been so preoccupied to avoid direct encounters with him in your little family’s life that you didn’t think he had other ways. He was always looming around with Sarah and as Grace began to trust Sarah, she consequently began to trust her blonde guardian too.

As you slammed the door behind you, Steve’s eyes snapped to yours and his smirk made you want to punch him so hard. The smugness on his face while he let Grace down without breaking eye contact told you he had no regret, no remorse. In fact, he was loving every second of this cat and mouse chase between you two.

You were a millimeter close to losing your shit, the only check being the kids in the room. But you were mad and he was going to know it.

“What the hell, Steve? Messing with my kid?” You threw your clutch onto the couch, Steve haughty by the reception of his sent message but still holding back because of the kids. He called Wanda and you didn’t really notice where she came from but you did register Steve asking to take the girls to the park for a ‘private discussion’.

As Grace passed by you, you grabbed her arm lightly, making her look at you with doe eyes resembling yours. You gave her a smile trying to ease her, but you knew she was smart enough to sense the change in the atmosphere.

Apparently, the whining Sarah wasn’t.

You looked back to Steve, your hold still on Grace and continued with a frown and raised eyebrows, “She isn’t going anywhere, not out of my sight and obviously not with you or your goons.”

Wanda had the audacity to look offended and you scoffed at her, eyes staring Steve’s down.

“Honey, I don’t think the kids should hear what I think you have to say right now.” He said nodding to Wanda to take Grace.

“You must be deranged to think I trust Grace near anyone even remotely related to you! Take your people and get out.” You held your hand up to stop Wanda and pointed towards the door with the most menacing glare you could form.

Grace looked incomprehensibly between you two, concern and confusion on her face. That might have been the first time such a tone was used in your household. The grumbling Sarah was close to throwing a tantrum, irritated by the change in the playful air or the lack of attention to her, you didn’t know. She was hanging on Wanda’s forearm, her feet slipping on your printed rug. Wanda was trying to not look hurt still by your previous statement, distracting herself by the blonde kid and you were baffled by her obliviousness to all this.

Steve, the beefy blonde Lucifer, was furious and seething. His white knuckles and ticking jaw were the most obvious giveaways, the fingers just itching to beat the shit out of someone no doubt.

Was he imagining striking you into compliance into his weird playhouse game complex? You wouldn’t be surprised given the extent of his attempt to ‘win’ you over.

The ‘get out’ tone and blatant disrespect was a bruise to his ego for sure, and by you, a middle-class woman nonetheless was a worse injury. Steve was the deadly boss to armored men in the vicinity, the kids’ father figure, according to him, and Wanda’s stern yet kind employer.

People had been killed for less and there you were, standing in all your glory, being the only person alive to reject Steve Rogers and now, the only to raise your voice at him.

You almost scoffed at his impudence to look offended, what did he expect? For you to submit to him after the stunt he pulled? His reach was scary he proved today and that any future with him in your life in any way, was a fearsome possibility to entertain but you’d be damned if you went down without a fight.  

“You can’t make me leave; we both know. You don’t have the physical edge nor the mental one. I have no problem drawing out G-U-N-S in front of the kids or to throw the warnings around, although I would prefer not to.”

Your free hand itched to slap him, like how his did minutes ago. It wasn’t a mankind problem about men thinking they were entitled to everything; it was a Steve Rogers’s problem. Of course, with him consent didn’t matter. If he had a ‘housewife, kids and fences’ fixation, he’d make it come true.

“Do you even listen to what I say? Or your own words even? Please, go ahead! Traumatise my kid and also yours in your wooing process! Why are you so obsessed? Leave us alone, you freak! I just ignored few messages!” You had a hard time maintaining your cool, if there was any left. You were sure you were scaring Grace and no matter what happened next, you knew she was already traumatized by this entire ordeal already. You were so sorry, so, so, so sorry to your poor baby caught in this mess.

You knew, no, you hoped, he wouldn’t pull out the gun, his actions at the carnival a proof, you remembered how he hid his gun on finding Sarah. That threat was empty but the next one wasn’t, his words making you freeze in your spot.

“I think you keep on misunderstanding me, sweetheart. I don’t make empty promises,”

Posh word for threats.

“For starters, maybe I should pay my future in-laws a visit in their blue duplex. They might need help with the vast garden they have, it is the season for ‘violets’, isn’t it?”

As you froze with your parents being brought up, he also cooled, albeit differently, smirking once again gaining the upper hand, not that he lost it if you were being honest.

“Isn’t threatening my kid enough for you, Steve?” You hated how your loud voice almost broke, your anger slowly subsiding into helplessness and you hated that. You hated his guts, his entitlement, his claim; everything about him.

“You still don’t see it, do you? Our family of four is the most important thing to me right now and I’m not above doing anything to save it.”

“There is no family of four Steve! I keep explaining and you keep coming back to square one with all this bullshit!” The curse word did tick Steve off but he would correct that later, when bigger things weren’t at ploy.

“Your ignorance makes me a little mad sometimes sweetheart and that is why I have to do all I do. You haven’t realized we need each other yet, but I’m staying until you do and even after that, I promise. You know how much it pissed me off to see your tickets and the packed suitcases after I’ve been nothing but nice? I was so generous to spoil you with my riches but instead I find that in your finances.”

This fucker knew. Of course, he did!

You were wondering in the back of your head what had prompted this visit with so many threats and warnings and anguish. He was pissed even before you ‘acted out’, he tracked the tickets and the plan and that meant he even tracked-

“You have so much to learn, but luckily you interact with quite a few people. I am most tempted to start out with this Aiden guy, trying to be the hero and giving you all the ideas. Maybe I should visit him?” Steve wondered out loud, and you flinched at his suggestion, hating how you were trapped by this man.

You couldn’t live with yourself if anyone got hurt because of you, be it your parents or Aiden or any other possibility Steve would come up with. Of course, Grace was your peak priority but you doubted he would hurt her as he threatened to harm them.

“Steve, please.” The fire was almost out, your hands trembling, Grace worried and Steve smug.

“Let the kids go and I think we can come to a conclusion.”

“Steve this needs to stop.” You said, your breaths heavy and helplessness clawing away at you.

“I won’t repeat myself.” He voiced out with a threatening edge, gesturing to Grace and Wanda, clearly telling you to first get the kids out.

For a deranged fucktard, he sure cared about the kids a lot.

You loosened your hold on Grace, patting her arm softly and nudged her to Wanda. Wanda received her little hand and enticed the kids with the promise of ice-cream. Sarah clapped her hands and as the trio left, Grace did look over her shoulders at you in concern and for permission, majorly in concern though. You nodded and waved, a tear dropping as soon as the door clicked shut.

You were still staring at the door, not wanting to meet Steve’s stormy blue orbs when he began, “Today was a slip up that I won’t tolerate again. Neither the cursing nor the dramatics.”

We aren’t in a fucking play, what the fuck is he labelling as dramatics?

Your eyes slowly flickered to his, and you had a hard time not letting the tears escape except the one traitorous one earlier. The fatigue, the worry of Grace’s disappearance, the threats to your friends and family were all catching up to you. It took all in you to stay strong and not fall down right now.

“Steve this isn’t funny anymore. It’s sick and you know it! I just said no! Was that so inexcusable that you had to follow up with this? You have violated me for that, broken into my home and now kidnapped my daughter! At what extent will you stop?” You broke down finally, arms a flailing mess as fat tears rolled down. Nothing scared more than the helplessness this moment. He won and he knew it. The carnival incident was nothing in comparison to this. The only good thing you could hope in all this was a safe Grace but that too only if you complied, which seemed like what you would do now given your attempts at fighting back and scampering have failed laughably.

“Gosh, I forgot how theatrical women are. You are smart darling; you know what I want from day one, just a happy family. Nothing that horrendous has happened and especially not as badly as put it. I’m just looking out for you and me in the long run.” Steve slowly treaded towards you, his hand extended to pat your arm comfortingly but you involuntarily flinched at contact and stepped back. Steve clearly didn’t like that as he caught your arm in a bruising grip and jerked you towards him. Manhandling you as your wet hands rushed to ease his grip was not a tough task for Steve, a surprise to none.

“Stop trembling like I’ve actually done something to harm you!”

Steve clearly didn’t know how to comfort women and it showed.

You stopped with the cowering away, even though it disgusted you to be this much in close proximity with your assaulter. He clearly had anger issues and no clue how to solve them. You needed to steer the conversation right and get him out. You could see your hands visibly shake as you put them on his chest, just to create some distance and in a way of surrendering to not fight. The tears slowed but you don’t think they stopped; it was hard to tell with a million other things on your mind.

As your eyes made contact, Steve loosened his grip, clearly a bit satisfied by your submission, as he began counting to help you breathe. As much as you hated to admit, it helped you and you got a flashback to the time when you freaked out on him about Grace at that extravagant dinner date. That was a sweet gesture then, not so sweet now. Funny how drastically things change with time.

It wasn’t so much Steve’s help as it was your own mind telling you to be fucking smart about the whole ordeal right now.

“Good. Better. Now let’s talk. Why were you planning to run away? I’ve been busy and coming home to find out that wasn’t joyful, you know.” His smile suggested a better mood than before but his voice, his husky voice always had this daring edge that almost challenged you to defy him but at the same time warned you of unpleasant consequences if you did.

“Steve, I’m scared.” You spoke with utmost honesty. “The part of the world you associate yourself with scares me. You can’t blame me for not wanting that life for Grace, I mean you have a kid of your own. Wasn’t the carnival attack specifically on Sarah?”

The reasoning was right but you knew you triggered him the moment his smile evaporated. He either felt insulted as a parent or disrespected in his profession or probably both.

He was fighting his inner demons already and you pointing it out was a slap to his face, a hit he didn’t want to take.

“That was a slip up, I admit. Never again. I’m only human, okay?” He convinced himself and you, his grip tightening a bit again.

Oh no, not the right direction to take.

You reckoned he still had nightmares about it like you, he really did love Sarah a lot, all things aside.

“Besides, I am looking out for you! Out for you and Grace and Sarah. I remember my promise of never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

You definitely didn’t trust his security or his people because what sort of a mobster let his daughter get targeted and possibly abducted? You definitely didn’t know the whole story or if it was just a bad day but he wasn’t a person that deserved some slack. Despite all this, you knew what all he held above you, above a common man. He might not be ‘Kingpin’ skilled but a threat to you nonetheless.

Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “Is that what you call following me around, huh?” which you immediately regretted.

“Trust the process, baby. Everything is just to protect you.”

Is that what he called stalking even Grace around and twistedly enough, sending you proof of that? The anonymous thread of photos was another nightmare of yours, thanks to him. The last being a candid photo inside Grace’s room, her sleeping in her bed this morning and that’s when you decided you needed to get out. Of course, that didn’t go as planned.

“How am I supposed to do that when you have cameras in my house?!” You scoffed and he reeled back at the accusation, having the nerve to look impressed at being uncovered and caught red-handed.

“Oh my fucking God, it was you! You sick pervert!” You jumped out of his grip, your eyes wide and horrified. “I wasn’t aware of what to make of it but of course, it was you! Who else would be sick enough to do that?” You let out a humorless chuckle. You always put things past him even when you keep telling yourself you shouldn’t. When will you ever learn huh?  

You were full on panicking yet again, this man was an assaulter, a stalker and a creep too. It would have made a good dark, psychological thriller for you to watch if you weren’t the protagonist about to suffer his obsession.

He reached out to steady you again, but you whipped and stumbled back, realizing too late that you elbowed Steve’s nose so bad that there was a crunch. That, right there, was the look a man real-fucking-furious on Steve’s face and now you could see the feared mobster, the man who was personally terrorizing you under the beautiful, Greek God façade.

Steve reacted so fast even with an injury that in a split second, your view of his face turned into a view of his crotch.

“You do realize that there are others ways for me to teach you obedience? I think it’s fucking time you show me your gratitude for my care and attention and apologize for your misconduct and unkind response.” Steve spoke with a hoarse voice, a voice running out of patience and just about done with defiance.

His hand fisted your hair, maintaining eye contact while he nodded between you and his crotch. You knew what he wanted, what he was expecting as ‘thanks’.

“Steve, please no, you don’t-”

His other hand grabbed your jaw, stopping you from speaking as he warned, “I think you have done just enough talking for today, so why don’t you put that tongue to a better use and show me how sorry you are. Better make it convincing because I’d hate to pay one of your friends a visit and then bitch about a nasty blowjob.” He smirked at the end of his monologue, eyes shining with triumph and amusement.

You wouldn’t let him harm anyone else, you couldn’t. You and your daughter were already knee-deep in a pit and at this point, it’d just be cruel to drag someone else in. With shaky hands opening his pants, you just hoped you could get Grace out before you eventually were buried in it.

“Now that’s a good girl. Submissive is a sexy look on you.” His hands patted your hair, playing with your tresses while yours pulled his pants and then briefs down.

His member jerked out, almost slapping you in the face as you recoiled at his insolence to get hard and erect at your torment. Your disdain must have shown which he took as admiration and derision to take his affluent cock in.

“No need to get shy, I have faith you’ll be able take it just as well in your pretty pussy as you will right now. Open up-”

“Steve, I beg you-”

Just as you had cut him off, he interrupted your pleading. Your gag reflex was probably the most efficient in the world but that turned this narcissist on. It had been years since you had done it, never with a man as beefy as Steve.

His taste was salty and if you had to put it into better words, it was the like overpriced sea salt flakes that you never bought. High and pricey and for the entitled.

Your hands clutched at his thighs as you blacked out multiple times; your jaw aching, uvula swaying and tears escaping. Him forcing himself on you brough a new sense of vulnerability as your body trembled. Steve relished like a sadist, practically rutting into you all by himself as you just sat there with your jaw unnaturally open.

His obscene moans and groans were crass and nauseating and you just prayed for this to be over soon and for no one to walk in on this, especially your kid.

It seemed like it would never end, your body dehydrating with all the spit it produced, the drool dribbling and landing just beside your knees on your printed rug. You would have to throw that out.

The tears stooped after some point, the sobbing an unnecessary action that just tired you out more on this eventful day. You moved your tongue around to prevent your teeth from scratching him when he shifted angles. If this was what he did on slightly mad, you didn’t want to find what he did for a more serious punishment.

Apparently, that action was something that turned him on even more, his breath hitching as neared closure. In broken whispers he demanded that again and you complied, wanting to get done with it.

He growled in the moment of his release and you tried to lean back but his grip didn’t relent. “Swallow.” His grainy, exasperated voice said out loud and you knew better than to defy.

He released you and you fell on to the rug, hip bruising by knocking into some furniture and tears coming back again after being hydrated by his seed. He packed himself, his smile smug and content as his expressions truly resembled ecstasy being personified.

“You be a good fiancée from now on and maybe you’ll have all your friends alive and present at our wedding. No cheeky business from now on, got it?” Steve hummed then and strutted out, not even bothering to listen to your reply.

As soon as the door slammed, your eyes closed and your demons danced again.

There was no right direction to take when you were stuck in a loop.  

[kiroonsmoon]

Thinking about Fate and her relationship with her older brother Calamity/Altair. I love family drama and being torn from your brother and being yeeted into another world to save it and it’s inhabits is just FILLED with good drama. So I feel like seeing the characters of Rejuvenation with their siblings, like Ren and Reina would just make her feel jealous and upset. Mmm drama so I wrote this little thing cuz I was bored, not the best writer but here ya go. Some Fate angst and drama. Also sorry in advance for any mistakes, my grammar is horrid. This takes place during the month long training session if your curious btw. Preview with the rest under read more cuz this uh, got long.

————————————————————————

“Lucy!”

Fate couldn’t help giggle as she followed Lucy, her Mimikyu and the newest member of her team. Lucy was still struggling to fit in with the rest of her team and didn’t trust her completely either. Not that Fate could blame the ghostly fae. She found her trapped in a cage due to Team Xen’s doing. Fate was just glad she could’ve gotten Lucy out of that situation. Hopefully this training she was currently doing with her friends would let them beat Team Xen for good. They had already hurt too many people she cared about.

In an attempt to help Lucy feel more at home, Fate had allowed her to help knit some things during their breaks from training. However, Lucy apparently didn’t approve of the color she was going to use for her project, as the pokemon had suddenly grabbed the soft, royal purple yarn and ran out of her room. Fate was currently chasing Lucy as she raced off the the prized yarn. Chasing was a generous term though as Fate was really just walking towards Lucy, she could easily speed up and grab the yarn when she wanted too. However Fate found it extremely funny and decided to let Lucy have her small moment of triumph.

Fate decided that this little game was over, and she quickened her pace into a brisk jog to catch up to her runaway pokemon, Lucy speeding up in return. However, in the middle of the chase, a figure turned from a nearby room and collided with Fate. Fate couldn’t help but let out a suddenly ‘yeowch’ as she crashed with the figure. Lucy stopped and turned at the sudden sound of pain from her trainer, letting out a concerned melodic cry. Fate groaned as she rubbed her temples, feeling her head throb in pain. Given the cool, smooth, and extremely hard body of the figure Fate had ran into there was only one person it could be. Fate’s suspicions were confirmed as she recovered from the hit, seeing the horrified face of her friend Ren. He didn’t seem to be affected by the collision, not surprising given he was a robot as of now.

“Fate!” Ren cried out, as he reached out to her, probably to check her for injuries. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there!” Fate just let out a hearty laugh, waving away Ren’s worried hands away from her. “I’m fine! Don’t worry!” Fate flashed her friend a grin, she looked down as she heard Lucy’s small cry. The mimikyu had made her way over and was looking at her with worry. Fate bent over and patted the top of Lucy’s costume. “Lucy ran off with my yarn.”

Ren looked around at the ground, where the string from the yarn had begun to untangle and make a mess of the floor in the chase between the trainer and pokemon. “I can see that… you should pick this before Damien finds out and yells at you.” Ren commented, know the dragon-type leader wouldn’t be happy about the mess in the halls. Fate rolled her eyes, grumbling something about Damien being a party pooper and the like as she crouched down, grabbing the yarn from Lucy and began to roll it up.

“We need to hang out sometime, yknow when Erin isn’t breathing down our backs to train.” Fate said, looking up at Ren with a beaming smile. “Ooo, want to join me? I’m knitting right now, I could teach you!”. Fate offered standing up suddenly, which caused her to lose her grip on the yarn and causing it to fall to the floor. Fate only looked on at dismay at the fallen yarn and Ren broke out into laughter at the display.

“I’d love to but, I promised Reina I would hang out with her today…” Ren admitted sheepishly, giving Fate a sorry smile. “We do have a lot to catch up on after all.” Fate frowned, her eyes turned to a slight glare as she felt pang of jealousy go through her “Oh…. okay.” The emotion surprised even her, sure she was always upset when a friend denied hanging out with her, but she never felt jealousy. Ren noticed Fate’s reaction, taken aback by her out of character reaction. The double agent looked side to side, shuffling anxiously. “We can hang out another time… but I got to go now”.

Fate waved Ren goodbye as he left the room to go meet his sister. Once he left Fate slapped herself on the face ‘stupid stupid stupid!’. She made Ren feel uncomfortable, she would need to apologize him soon. Though she guessed she could understand why she was feeling what she was now. She was missing her own brother, Altair. It’s been a year since she saw him last, she had no idea if he was okay or not. Fate began to play with the strands of her hood, Altair didn’t know if she was okay either.

She had suddenly been transported into this world, with no warning at all. Last she talked to Altair, he was simply talking about what he was planning to do tomorrow. She listened, pestered him with a bunch of questions, wished him goodnight and told him she’d see him in the morning. She didn’t see him in the morning though, because she was suddenly on the floor of a ship in a body that wasn’t her own, in a world that wasn’t her own. She didn’t even tell her she loved him, that was her biggest regret, she didn’t know if she would ever see him again. She felt tears began to flow from her eye, and she rubbed her sleeve over her eyes and she tried to stifle her sobs.

She flinched as she felt a claw on her hand, she looked down, vision blurred slightly from her tears. Lucy looked at her with worry, she held the ball of yarn, having picked it up when she had her quick, awkward conversation with Ren. “You… okay?” the mimikyu asked, wrapping her shadow claw around her arm in comfort. It did help Fate feel a little better “I’m fine….. and…. I’ve got the yarn!” Fate suddenly bent over and grabbed the soft yarn, clenching it tight and her smile not reaching her eyes. She giggled weakly as she ran off, Lucy chasing after her trainer. She didn’t want to bother everyone with her problems, they all were already going through so much. It wasn’t fair if she pushed her problems onto them. She would just… grieve in silence….

[theshelbyclan]

Brotherly Discomfort

Summary: After ‘the talk’, your brothers are adamant to protect you, but you throw yet another curveball their way. Part 2 to Growing Pains

(Gif by @nofckingfighting​)  A/N: This is part 2 to my most popular fic Growing Pains and I used anon’s request: Could you do a Shelby sis story where she’s a lesbian and in love with a woman and her family doesn’t know. The family is trying to get her into an arranged marriage with a man and she can’t figure out how to tell them she’s a lesbian cause she feels they won’t except her? Sorry if that’s too much. Love your writing so much btw!! Thanks for this request babes, hope I did it justice :)  Words: 2387

*** “Right, Y/N, sit down,” Tommy sighed deeply and pointed at a single chair by the kitchen table, “We need to talk.” As you sat down, three brothers loomed over you. Tommy lit a cigarette like his life depended on it, Arthur couldn’t stand still if his life depended on it and John seemed to have forgotten what his life actually depended on, so he just stood there, unsure of everything. “We’re having another talk,” you stated. The last one, only a few days ago, was still fresh in your mind. 

“We are,” you brother confirmed. Arthur took off his cap like he was attending a funeral and stumbled, “We, uhm… We’ve had an idea.” “Christ,” Polly mumbled from behind her newspaper and you couldn’t agree more. “The thing is,” John finally spoke, “We’ve been worried after we… talked.” “Right,” you nodded, “Because of he subject of our conversation?” “It’s not just that!” your brother continued, with a slight frantic edge to his voice, “You’re growing up, but you’re still running around with the dogs at all hours. You won’t listen to anyone, do whatever you please…” Tommy continued where John faltered, “The truth is, Y/N, you’re getting to be too wild.” “Oh, fuck off, Tom,” and you got up with every intention to leave the room. “Sit down,” he said sternly, “We can’t have another Ada situation.” “Situation?” your eyebrows shot up, “What do you fucking mean by a fucking situation?” “The baby, Y/N,” Arthur explained. “I’m sorry,” you were boiling inside now, “but please explain: was the baby the problem or the man she had the baby with the problem? Or possibly, maybe, the fact that you three had no say in the matter?!” “That’s not the point,” John could feel this conversation wasn’t going as planned, “The thing is we couldn’t stop it!” Polly scoffed behind you, so at least you felt like someone was on your side. After a few moments of silence, your anger got the better of you and you slammed a hand down on the table in a very Tommy manner, “So what did you three fucking geniuses come up with?” Tommy pointed at you menacingly, “You fucking watch your mouth. You may be sixteen but I will still wash your mouth out with soap if you don’t mind that tongue…” “Minding my tongue…” you repeated, rolling your eyes, “Fine. So, what’s the plan? Arthur? John? Are we going back to the old ways and am I being married off to some good gypsy boy?” You turned around at Polly and laughed at your own joke, but when the room fell silent once again, you realised you’d hit the jackpot. Arthur had known you since the day you were born. He’d been twelve at the time and he could recognise every little expression on your face. Like when you were little, you used to scrunch up your nose just before you were about to cry for hunger. Or when you were sad, a small wobble in your chin just before the tears. Or when you were angry, a wrinkle in your forehead gave away the tantrum that was about to follow. This was happening right now. So he held up both hands and said, “Y/N, he’s from a good family…” “Nope,” you said, adamantly. “He is,” John confirmed gently, “and he has horses.” “Fucking no,” you shook your head. Tommy sighed, “We already made the deal.” “You promised your sister, just like that. That’s low, even coming from you, Thomas,” Polly’s cold voice sounded. If there was one person who could break his tough exterior, it was his aunt, “Well, what the fuck should we have done, Pol? Let her run wild, like you, eh?” But you stood up and walked over to Tommy. This was the man who had raised you, cared for you and disciplined you most of all, but right now, none of it mattered. So you slapped him hard, once. “Undo it Tommy,” you hissed, “Undo it or I’ll fucking cut you.” In the background you could hear Arthur mumble at once, “Okay, we’ll undo it…” “Give me one good reason,” your brother’s face, now only inches away, remained emotionless. You sighed and decided to throw all caution to the wind. “Anna,” you said, calmly. “What?” John asked immediately. So you repeated, voice raised, “Anna!” Three frowning brother stared at you, not understanding at all. “Remember when you asked me what hisname was, last week?” you called out exasperated. “’John’, wasn’t it?” Arthur looked at you. “No, it wasn’t fucking ‘John’, Arthur, she just said so,” John explained to his oldest brother. Tommy lit another cigarette, “What’s your point, Y/N?” You pointed at your neck where the nearly faded hickey could still be seen if you knew, “The name of the girl who gave me this is Anna.” “That would be bloody fantastic actually, because we wouldn’t have to worry anymore about a baby situation…” John squinted, “I think she’s serious…” “Oooooh fuck…” Arthur sighed, suddenly connecting the dots; “We’ve been keeping an eye on the wrong fucking people, John.” But John burst out laughing, “Didn’t see that one coming, did you, Tommy?” Slowly, your brother sat down and started smoking his second cigarette, “Pol, contact Madame Ross, tell her the wedding is off.” But Aunt Polly was having none of it, “You got us into this mess, you can fix it.” And then fear settled suddenly into the pit of your stomach. You looked at Tommy and asked softly, “Are you mad?” “Nope,” he said, head dropped down into his hands. “Disappointed?” “No, I’m not disappointed. But you should’ve told us, eh?” You shrugged, “Didn’t think you’d… approve.” “Why?” John asked, “We don’t care that you like women.” And all the love you had in you went out to your brother in that very moment. “Y/N,” Arthur started and he looked so angry that uncertainty took over again, “Why the fuck did you not tell us before we… explained?” “Because it was hilarious,” Polly commented unhelpfully. John started giggling again, “Fucking unnecessary is what it was.” “Arthur?” you asked, fear seeping into your voice. He sighed deeply, fidgeting with his hat, “It’s not the women, Y/N, I don’t care about that. It’s you and… anyone really. I don’t like the idea of you with anyone. Remember when she used to play with the coals, remember John?” “Yeah, I remember,” John smiled. “Black like the night she’d be!” Arthur remembered out loud, “Sweet and innocent.” “Well, she’s not anymore,” Polly sipped her tea. “I fucking see that and I don’t like it,” you eldest brother’s smile faded quickly. “Right,” Tommy raised his head again, “Guess we need to change our approach.” “There really no need…” you started. But he continued, ignoring you, “So you like girls, eh?” “Yep,” you confirmed meekly. “Only girls?” You nodded, “Well, one in particular.” Arthur looked at Tommy like he would have all the answers, “Now what, Tom?” You could now start to see the humour in all of it. Your brothers’ faces were an absolute picture! John could hardly contain his laughter, Tommy looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and Arthur was filled with the absolute dread at another conversation like the one you had last week. “Oh, come on!” John called out, “I’m sure we could offer some advice!” He winked at you and a smile spread across your face. “Yeah!” you said, “I mean you all like women, right? This should be even easier!” “It’s not,” Arthur muttered. “I like women,” John said to no one in particular. “What about you, Tommy?” you asked your brother sweetly. But he just rolled his eyes and continued smoking. A part of you wanted to joke about him and Alfie, but you decided against it at the last second. “Horses?” you ventured, “Tommy, any advice on this with the famous analogy of horses? “Horses don’t really…” he waved a hand, coughed and stopped talking all together. “Well, at least you don’t have to be afraid of her getting pregnant,” John said to Arthur, who was as white as a sheet now. “That’s right,” he replied in a low voice, “but that’s my entire speech out the window, because there’s no waiting ‘till bloody marriage either…” “Well,” you tried to comfort your older brother, “You did offer me some good advice the last time, Arthur. You said there was no hurry and to not do it unless I wanted to?” “Right! I did say that. That, yes, it still stands!” Arthur looked around the kitchen triumphantly. “And John,” you continued, “you said to not put anything in my mouth unless I wanted to. Sound advice that was, now more than ever!” “Fucking hell,” Arthur crumbled again, “I can’t do this again. Tom, say something.” “Women….” Tommy started off vaguely waving his cigarette around, “they want love.” “We do.” “And they always want to take things slow.” “Can you imagine?” John interrupted, “Two women together? Must take ages…” “You’d be surprised…” you started, but when you saw your other brothers’ faces, you shut your mouth quickly. Tommy glared daggers at his brother and then turned to you, “How did you become an expert all of a sudden, eh?” “Talked to Ada,” you shrugged. “You talked to Ada…” he repeated lowly and threw his head back. “Wait,” John said suddenly, “Is this why you hate wearing dresses?” “Or why you drink whiskey like a man?” Arthur added, carefully. “That’s just because she’s a Shelby,” Polly explained matter-of-factly. “Or why you never sit on chairs?” John continued, “Or hang out at the factory all the time! Or why you always talk about votes for women…” You held up a hand to stop your brother, “None of that has anything to do with me liking women, John. That’s just… me.” “So what does have to do with you liking women?” your other brother asked in his typical low voice. “Me liking women…?” “So how does it work exactly?” John furrowed his brows, “Like, without… a man there?” “John,” Arthur warned him with a grumble. “Well, both people are enjoying themselves, for starters…” you replied in earnest. “Fucking hell,” the eldest interrupted, “She’s turning into Ada, she bloody is.” “Have you never seen two women together, Arthur?” you asked innocently, “Not even in London?” “They’re all mad bastards down in London, Y/N, the things I’ve seen there…” “Well, imagine me now.” Tommy had just taken a sip of his whiskey and practically choked on the spot, “That’s fucking it. You’re not to go near the BSA again!” “Why?” you called out, “It’s not like all the women in the world are gathered at the BSA!” “I will not have you behaving,” he struggled to find the words but finally spit, “like those fucking women in London!” “Don’t worry, Tommy,” you tried to comfort him, “I’m still… we haven’t actually…” “Oh, thank God,” Arthur sank down in his chair. “Well, when you do, just be gentle, alright?” John offered some advice, “And light a candle! Women love candles.” “Candles, check,” you noted. Tommy downed his whiskey, recomposed himself and added, “And make sure they’re in the mood first…” “To get ‘happy’,” you said, “like Arthur said last time,” “Yes,” he sighed deeply.

“Cut your nails,” John said out of the blue, “Esme told me.”

Arthur turned to his brother, “What the bloody hell do nails have to do with anything?”

“Well, it’s for when you…”

But Tommy silenced you with a gesture, “Please, Y/N, don’t.”

“Right,” and the quiet returned in the small kitchen. Well, at least now they knew, so that terrifying bit was out of the way. Apart from that, you weren’t quite sure if this was going great, because your brothers seemed absolutely petrified and slightly annoyed at your sudden revelation. Maybe it would’ve been better if you hadn’t told them. Then again, marrying a ‘good gypsy boy’ was the last thing you wanted in life. So maybe you could lighten the mood just a little.

“I have a better idea,” a sudden glint came into your eyes, “How about I offer all of you some advice!” The tables had turned already and this couldn’t possibly get any more awkward.

“Nope,” Arthur stood up and promptly marched out of the kitchen, talking to himself, “I can’t. That’s my baby sister and I just fucking can’t...”

“Arthur, where are you going?” Polly called after him, mirth clearly audible in her voice. And he replied, “I’m going to find this Anna, make sure she’s from a good family…” And then he was gone.

Tommy looked from you to Polly for a few seconds before he cleared his throat and mumbled something about business. Polly smirked at you and his face was full of annoyance at it all, “I need to get back to Dangerous. The horse. Tell me some other time, eh?”

“Tommy,” you asked carefully, “Are you sure you’re not mad about me liking women?”

“Princess, I honestly don’t give a fuck who you like,” he said, while putting on his coat and hat, “I just want to meet this Anna and if she hurts you, I’ll still kill her. None of that has changed, eh?”

This was strangely comforting to you.

And just as you were about to offer some unwanted advice, he left the kitchen in a hurry and called over his shoulder, “If you have any questions, Ada apparently has all the fucking answers!”

So you turned to your aunt, “That went well, didn’t it?”

“At least the wedding’s off.”

“Thank fuck,” you smirked and Polly smiled at you encouragingly, “You don’t mind, Aunt Pol, do you?”

“I’m with Tommy,” she said returning to her stern voice, “The fact that it’s a woman won’t make me hesitate.”

“Right,” you nodded, “She makes me happy, though.”

“Good,” Aunt Polly continued to read the newspaper, “Bring her over for tea. Let’s make the boys really uncomfortable, shall we?”

Still laughing, you stood up with the intention of getting on with your homework, when you suddenly noticed John was still sitting on the chair in the back of the kitchen.

“What do you want?” you asked him bluntly.

“I’m waiting,” he said, hands upturned, “You promised me some advice, remember?”

***

Masterlist

[leo-interactive-fiction]

Something else I haven't seen before. What would the MC's parent from each background think of the ROs? Who would they approve of and who wouldn't they? I guess in the case of orphan MC, what would E's parents think? Since they kinda maybe vaguely adopted orphan MC?

Hmm, interesting! Since I did the opposite, I should have seen this one coming haha

-----------------------

Storm's comments:

E: "Rose has had that expectation for some time. This is preferable to the alternative. I know you will be in good hands. Rose raised them well."

R: Your father doesn't mince his words, a clear disdain evident, "Valleford. See that you don't take after your father, or there will be less than pleasantries next time we meet."

L: "Scio. I assume your father...?" Storm's lips pull in a small frown as L gives a small nod of confirmation, "I understand if you cannot forgive me. Your father is a significant asset to the Hospian war effort. If I find him, I will kill him."

V: "You've seen enough at your age," Storm says quietly, looking into the hollow glint in V's eyes, "I'm sorry. Those were battles that should have ended with my generation, not yours."

P: Storm's brow furrows as he makes a cordial greeting, "I assume your father is well? He does not speak of his second child often, but you seem more spirited than the other. That will make the greater difference when it matters."

M: Storm's brow furrows as he makes a cordial greeting, though there's little sentimentality in his voice, "I assume your father is well? He expresses confidence in your upbringing, but I can't say I share the sentiment. You lack something fundamental. Something to drive you to achieve more than what's expected of you."

Ra: Storm's eyes lock onto Raven with a harsh intensity, "Your eyes are filled with blood and you conceal weapons. Tell me your intentions or I will kill you right now."

S: "I admit I am unfamiliar with Orden. The conflict never reached that country, but I understand there are many hardships there already," Storm says, looking the brightly grinning student up and down before his lips pull back in small contentment, "You come out better than most. You have impressive strength."

F: Storm holds a frown as he takes in the vivid green hair, "Many allowed Frenza to claim their distance due to their significant contribution to Triaina's independence, but it doesn't absolve you of everything," he says in warning, "Don't step over the boundaries you've been afforded, or the military will have no choice but to respond."

------------------------------

Scurra's dialogue:

E: Scurra makes a grimace as he recognizes E, "Damnit, you've gone and done it now," he grumbles as he pulls out his wallet and hands a fold of bills to E, "Give that to your mom, will you? She's worse than a debt collector with bets..."

R: "Valleford! There's a name I haven't heard in a while. I knew they had a black sheep in the family, but I guess they couldn't take away the infamous good looks," Scurra chuckles, his eyes lightening reminiscently, "They've put me in a good bit of trouble on more than one occasion. I guess I should consider it a family curse now that MC is involved with you."

L: "Oh, I know those eyes," Scurra says wistfully, "Coming to find the world is a bigger place than you imagined, aren't you? It's even more expansive than that, too. I had that same look when I traveled overseas. I hope MC is being a good guide for you," he looks to you, and gives a knowing wink.

V: Scurra gives a meandering hum as he looks at V, "I've been all around, but I've only seen natural hair color like that a handful of times. They all had your same stare, too." He closes his eyes thoughtfully, "None as young as you though. I hope you're the last I have to see with those eyes. They're a bad omen."

P: "A fiery one, aren't you! Has no one ever told you not to say bad words in public?" Scurra laughs, "You should stop while you can. You're so transparent with your feelings that I almost mistook you for a window, so there's no point to pulling a tough act."

M: A small, genuine smile rises on Scurra's lips as he inspects M, "How interesting. You're so similar to your twin, but you're definitely the better actor. As I think about it, you remind me of MC's mother in many ways..."

Ra: "What are you doing here?" Scurra frowns, staring harshly at Raven. A silence passes and eventually he looks away, messaging his jaw, "Oops, guess I was mistaken. You looked a little like someone I know."

S: "You've got Orden written all over you, don't you?" Scurra says cheerily, "It's been a while since I've visited, but I have to say it gave me the most enjoyment. You all certainly know how to keep it lively."

F: "Your family has always been so hauty!" Scurra covers his mouth to suppress a chuckle, "But I think it would be a mistake to talk down to everyone you meet. I happen to be on great terms with your mother. If I took the opportunity, you two would have been siblings!"

------------------------

Xero's insight:

E: He smiles warmly to E, "It's good to see you again. I'm afraid there was little I could do for you: your mother has already found out about your relationship. I expect she'll make it as embarrassing for you as possible, if I know her well. I hope you're mentally prepared."

R: Xero studies R with a faint curiosity, "I'm afraid your father and I are on less than speaking terms due to some...past difficulties, but I understand you are more than simply your father's child. You may be villianized for your differing viewpoint, but aren't we all? I don't find it is so bad," Xero gives R a knowing small."

L: Xero's eyes widen upon seeing L, then falls into a soft smile, "To think history would repeat so aptly. To see you two now reminds me of my own school days," Xero closes his eyes and releases a light sigh, the smile still present, "I pray you'll also find the same happiness I did, and that it lasts longer."

V: Xero's grip tightens on an file in his hands as he sees V, his voice meticulous, "You are...Wolfe, correct? I'll admit the what I've heard and read of you is...less than appealing, but," he casts his gaze between you and the ex-Jagd member, a faint smile growing on his lips as V steps cautiously between you. "You seem to have a strong sense of duty. I hope you will be a good pillar for MC."

P: He looks disaprovingly, "In my field, words are paired with intention. To speak is to lay bare your thoughts. Why would you neglect your intent by forcing a negative connotation where it doesn't belong?"

M: He seems slightly more on edge than with P, "I don't believe I should offer my approval to someone unwilling to determine a focus. It's a testament to your negligence."

Ra: Xero crosses their arms, his face skeptical,"Marriage? Your lack of detailed forethought and hyperfixation gives me the impression of an unhealthy mind. As it stands now, I will refuse to give you my blessing."

S: "I'm afraid I'm ignorant to everything Orden related," Xero says sheepishly, "I am happy to learn all that I can, though. Perhaps you would like to bring your family at some point? I would be happy to host them here." Xero smiles warmly, clearly unknowing of the chaotic rabblerousing he's invited into his home.

F: "Ah, the royal line," Xero says in recognition of F, "Your own mother was a classmate of mine as well. To think one of her children would grow so closely with mine. Please give her my regards, would you? She has always kept herself closer than others, so I was happy when she took an interest in my friend. He's a lucky man."

---------------------

Mr. Razor's thoughts (if he was alive)

E: He bows his head gratefully, "Thank you for taking care of MC all this time. Your selflessness has saved me a lot of worry, and I doubt I'll have any more leaving them in your hands."

R: Razor's eyes bore a hole through R, "To defy your father was a considerable risk. And not knowing what the academy had planned for you, you still allowed yourself to be incarcerated for an indeterminate amount of time," Razor taps his fingers to his chin, a smile spreading over his lips, "I enjoy those that stick to their principles, but what say we work on your jailbreaking?"

L: "Your father's quite an important man. He's lucky I was never contracted to kill him," Razor says matter-of-factly. A chilling air of silence deafens the room until Razor holds up his palms, "Just kidding. I've never killed anyone. They all died mysteriously."

V: "How's Jagd doing?" Razor narrows his eyes keenly on V, "I'm surprised they were able to bounce back after what I did to them. I guess they filled the empty spaces with whoever was able...or moldable."

P: Razor smiles sadly, "It must be difficult to be given another person's expectations and do well with them. You're like a fish trying to climb a tree. But I enjoy how far up you've climbed despite that. Would you like a reward? I know, how about...your father's weakness?"

M: Razor seems disinterested, "You're not worth the words, Crater. You're nothing more than what your father made you to be: a simple shadow to live vicariously through."

Ra: Razor's eyes have an approving glint, "The one that slipped through the cracks. How very odd. MC's mother was quite odd too. It's an endearing quality, isn't it? Yes, I think you'll make a perfect companion for MC. You've already been looking over them all this time, haven't you?"

S: "Earnestness is one of the first qualities people tend to throw away when faced with hardship. It is impressive to see how you've progressed through your poverty and discrimination so aptly. Perhaps you have a hope that things will get better?" Razor's mouth spreads in a wicked smile, "I do enjoy seeing how people struggle for such a small glimmer of light. I think I'll offer my aid."

F: "Ah, it's always cute to see people play at royalty," Razor smiles at F's exasperated face, "Why do you seem so angry? Do you actually believe your position has meaning? I'll assure you it doesn't," Razor casts a darkening stare towards the royal, "To me, you're no harder to kill than a beggar on the street. The power you attempt to flaunt means nothing, because in the end it does nothing to elevate you beyond a simple street urchin."

----------------------

End

Thank ya for the ask!

[biggest-stupidhead]

Hello! I'm gonna drop here another request 🤣 This could be a headcanon or a scenario, whatever you feel comfortable with!

Let's just say the clumsy new cadet!reader landed a punch a little too strong and broke Captain Levi's nose by accident?

Thanks!

omfg I love this so much 

Summary: Levi underestimates your strength 

Word Count: 1.7K 

__ 

It was late in the afternoon and you were pooped. The day had been long and taxing, beginning with stable duties, then cleaning, followed promptly by ODM practice and upkeep. The captain had kept you all on your toes throughout the day, seamlessly ordering you into your next task. So as you doubled over in an attempt to recover your regular breathing pattern you silently prayed for the day to come to a close miraculously two hours early. 

“This sucks.” Jean huffed across from you, mirroring your stance as he turned and spat a glob of saliva out onto the dusty ground. 

“I second that.” Connie agreed breathlessly from behind you, Sasha’s wheezing breath was distracting you from your own breathing and you found yourself hacking as you tried to refocus. Mikasa on the other hand was totally fine, her eyes lazily scanning the training grounds as she waited for her next orders. Armin and Eren were on their knees as they tried to recover from the sprints that you hall had just finished. 

“Pack it up brats, meet me at the courtyard in no more than three minutes.” Levi ordered, the whirring of his gear signaling his retreat. You huffed, jealous of his ability to use the gear, you and the rest of your squad had left your gear back at the supply barn, having thought that the day’s training was nearly finished. The only task that he could possibly throw at you now was sparring, something that you rarely did as scouts, and when you did do it, the exercise was often held first thing in the morning. So when you all arrived at the courtyard to find Levi with his arms crossed and wooden knives at his feet, you felt your heart sink. How could he be so cruel? Mikasa clicked her tongue next to you, clearly thinking the same thing as you. Eren groaned a bit too loudly, Connie whimpered and Sasha sighed heavily. Jean remained silent, but the gloomy aura surrounding him was enough to hint that he felt the dismay that you all felt as well. 

“What are you waiting for? Pair off already.” Levi snapped impatiently and all of you jumped to find partners. This was always an issue within your squad, especially when it came to sparring. There was an odd number, meaning that one of you had to partner up with the captain. You lunged to grab Armin but Jean beat you to him, snatching him and dragging him well out of your reach, Eren and Mikasa were already picking up a knife, Connie gave you a look that was laced with pity as Sasha linked her arm with his. You huffed and stuck your tongue out at him before making the walk of shame over to Levi. 

“I’ll be the attacker.” He said as he stooped to grab a knife, you swallowed nervously but braced yourself for what you were sure would be the worst ass whopping in your life. Levi held the wooden knife with a frown, he studied it momentarily before with a flick of his wrist her had the fake weapon spinning in the air. He caught it effortlessly and nodded in approval. Now he was just showing off, you thought bitterly as you focused on him entirely. In the blink of an eye he rushed you, the knife held against his side, no doubt a habit from his earlier years. You panicked and narrowly sidestepped his attack, the blunt knife cutting through the air where you once stood. Levi stepped back before you could even think about landing a blow. You held your fists up, determination replacing the shock you had felt. You were going to see this fight through to the bitter end. He caught the flash of conviction in your features and decided that he would extinguish it promptly. 

He lunged once more at you, this time opting to make a stabbing motion right to your abdomen, a move he wouldn’t dream of making if he had a real knife in his hand, he preferred slashing over stabbing, stabbing took too much effort, while slashing allowed for less energy and more space between himself and his opponent. He regretted this almost instantly, having severely underestimated both your speed and your strength behind your punches. You sidestepped the stab and clocked him right in the nose, your fist connecting with his face with a sickening crunch. In his moment of pure shock, you snatched the wooden knife from his grasp and tossed it to the side. You used your weight to push Levi back onto his butt, and then flat on his back. He could only blink up at the blue sky as his nose throbbed in pain. It was then when you got a clear look at the damage that you had inflicted that you gasped, blood was leaking from his nose, both from his nostrils and a small cut that you’d managed to create from the sheer force of your fist. 

“Captain! I am so so sorry.” You whispered as you reached into his breast pocket, where you knew that he kept a fresh handkerchief. You pressed it to his nose and his grey eyes left the sky to stare at you, brows raised and mouth open in shock. You were knelt next to him, one hand on his shoulder, the other pinching his nose for him. Levi felt the shock wear off once he realized how stupid he must look. He sat upright at the speed of light, and you yelped. He sighed and watched as the soiled fabric fell onto the dusty ground, the crimson that stained the crisp white only solidified that he had been bested by a cadet. 

“Good work cadet, that was...unexpected.” He admitted as he turned to face you. You swallowed thickly and shook your head rapidly. 

“Lucky shot I guess?” You said nervously as you studied the damage once more, this time you noticed the way that his nose was slightly crooked. 

“You should...probably get that checked out.” You said, pointing at his nose, worried that it would be you who marred the captains perfect features. 

“Just a broken nose, not the first time it’s happened and I’m willing to be it won’t be the last either.” Levi sighed as he stood and offered you a hand to help you to your own feet. You accepted and he turned to the other cadets, who were all staring at you with slack jaws. 

“That’s enough for today, go get washed up for dinner.” Levi said, pinching his nose once he finished speaking. Your peers saluted him and made a clean getaway, kicking up the dust as they scurried away. You felt much to guilty to let Levi walk to the infirmary by himself, and for whatever reason he had no qualms in letting you accompany him. But you noticed that he was in fact not heading towards the infirmary, but instead Hange’s lab. 

“Sir....where are we-” 

“I can’t stand the pompous doctor.” He said, as if that was enough of an explanation. 

“So who-” 

“Hange can set bones back just as good as the next idiot.” He said simply as he gave one curt knock before entering. Hange looked up from behind the pile of books and let out a bark of laughter. 

“Sparring with Mike again? What good has that ever done you?” She asked as she rounded the table and reached onto one of the top shelves to produce a first aid kit. 

“Wasn’t sparring with that oaf.” Levi grunted as he dropped into one of the chairs in Hange’s lab. She hummed thoughtfully, and looked up from her work to catch your eyes. 

“Can you confirm this cadet?” She asked, a playful glint in her eyes as you averted your eyes and flushed. 

“Actually...” 

“She’s the one that broke my nose.” Levi said, beating you to it and stating it much more bluntly than you would have. Hange let out a roar of laughter and slapped her knee in her enthusiasm. 

“That’s just rich! Wow great work (Y/n)! I mean I would’ve expected this from Ackerman, or maybe even Eren. But you? My god this is just-” 

“Set my nose already shitty glasses.” Levi snapped, having had enough of her teasing, his already thin patience was worn to near exhaustion. Hange sighed and motioned for you to come closer. 

“Let’s use this as a teaching opportunity shall we?” She mused as you came to stand at her shoulder. You weren’t sure if you had much of a choice so you simply nodded and she smirked devilishly at you. She brought her hands to the side of Levi’s head, he closed his eyes and let out a slow breath as Hange moved a hand over the bridge of his nose. 

“When setting any bone it is important to do so quickly and unapologetically.” She said formally as she tenderly examined the wound. She reached behind her with her free hand and dabbed a cotton ball to the bloody skin, you swallowed nervously as she now returned to grip the bridge of his nose. 

“On the count of three Levi.” She hummed as she seemed to brace herself. Levi didn’t even open his eyes at her warning. 

“One...” 

CRACK

You yelped at the loud sound, Hange was quick to reach for some more cotton which she stuffed up Levi’s nostrils. Levi groaned when she finished and reclined further in the chair, his knuckles white from squeezing the arms of the seat. 

“Oh my god.” Was all you could manage as Hange wiped her hands off on a towel. 

“Go ahead and take him to dinner. He’ll be fine in the next couple of weeks.” She waved you off, shooing the both of you out of her office. When the door slammed shut behind the two of you, you turned to Levi with a twisted expression. 

“Captain I am so sorry, I really didn’t mean to. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” You practically begged as Levi closed his eyes and ran a hand through his messy locks. 

“Well....you can do my paperwork for me.” He said, you immediately regretted extending your kindness, much to Levi’s amusement. 

“I’ll go make us some tea then...” You mumbled turning to stalk off towards the kitchen. Levi watched you walk away, pride swelling in his chest, he didn’t think that you had it in you. Now all he had to do was get you to stop apologizing all the god damn time. 

__

Oh my god, this was such a fun lil idea. 

[goddesswritings]

“Can I slap her for you?” - Corpse Husband | Part One

Title: “Can I slap her for you?” – Part One

Pairing: Corpse Husband x Reader

Summary: Being stuck living with the queen of YouTube drama and partying during the pandemic has seriously worn down your patience. Meeting Pokimane has changed your life for the better, making Among Us a pivotal part of your life.

Word Count: 5.3k

I’m always writing so much plot! I hope you like it. Part Two is in the works.

********

Credit to PIC owner!

This pandemic was hell for you. Being stuck in this apartment with your bitch of a sister was not something you would wish on even your enemy.

When you first moved to LA with her, things were fine, and you got along. She had a budding YouTube career, and you were working a good job. Pretty quickly, she’d hired you as her editor since that was a daily part of your real job, you happily agreed because it meant you could get money on the side and still work.

Your sister was mainly a beauty YouTuber but last year she gained over 3 million followers when she started a series where she would interview people in other lines of entertainment and then test it out. Since then, she’d become a horror to live with.

Now with the pandemic, you’d been furloughed from you day job and working full time for your diva of a sister. She had only been getting worse and worse. Being stuck with her was crap, especially since she was selfish and still went out to party and do collabs with people like there wasn’t a massive virus out there.

“I hope you finished the editing I needed done.” Olivia, your sister, asked as she shut the front door.

You were just finishing up the edits from your spot on the couch. “Yeah, I did it while you were out risking lives.”

“Shut the hell up. I’m an adult and I can do what I want.” She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Even when it’s killing hundreds of thousands of people?” You were so sick of her attitude. She has no care in the world for anyone but herself. In the last month, her name had been posted all over the commentary YouTubers channels. Slamming her for partying while the world dealt with Covid.

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Those people are not my problem at all. If they are so afraid, they should just stay home.”

“Why are you so selfish?” Her behavior was completely out of hands these days.

“Do I need to remind you that I pay you?” She sent you a glare before heading off to her room. You grumbled and threw your head back. There was no way you could handle her.

Stressing out over her was no good, so you decided to take your laptop back to your room and play some games to calm yourself down. Among Us was one of those games that allowed to you just play and forget the stress. You booted up the game and joined some random lobbies. It was hard to find good games because you usually ran into some sour players who couldn’t just play the game without causing drama.

A few rounds in, your phone buzzed, indicating a text. You exited the current game, one of the imposters had already killed you anyway, and picked up the phone. There was a text from Poki. The two of you had become quick friends when she appeared on your sisters series but she clicked more with you since you were more of a gamer.

P: Hey Y/n, what are you doing currently?

It was an unexpected text because you had been fairly sure Poki had a stream tonight.

Y/n: Nothing since I just finished editing my selfish sisters video. What’s up?

She knew very well how horrible Olivia was and she’d been the one person who you could talk to about it. You appreciated her for it.

Poki: Damn, did she go to another party?

Y/n: Yup, she sure did. Then threatened my job when I called her out on it.

Poki: Wow, not cool. Hey, so you know how I’m streaming tonight?

Y/n: Yeah.

Poki: So I had everyone set up for the game but last minute someone dropped out. We need one more person and I know you’re amazing in Among Us. Would you join our game?

This was a surprise. You weren’t a YouTuber or a streamer, so for her to ask you, meant she really was desperate.

Y/n: Sure, I’m free. Who’s playing tonight?

Poki: Rae, Lily, Ethan, Mark, Felix, Toast, Sykkuno, and Corpse.

Wow, that was a packed game full of some pretty big names. Your nerves kicked up at the thought of being in a game with these amazing people.

Y/n: Sweet!

Poki: I will send you the discord so you can join the chat and the game code.

Y/n: Thanks.

She instantly sent you the links and you got your self set up with your headphones. Poki connected you into the discord call.

“Hey, everyone welcome my good friend, Y/n. She’s the one who will fill in on the open spot tonight.” She introduced you to the group.

A chorus of hello’s was heard. You knew Rae, so she jumped right into welcoming you.

Pushing the nerves away, you managed to little hello. Your voice was softer than you’d intended. Damn nerves.

“Guys! Y/n is so good in Among Us. Her skills rival Corpse’s.” Rae gushed. You’d played a game with Rae and Poki and a few of the other girls, but no one had been streaming.

“Whaddup baby.” The deep voice of Corpse said. His voice was something else.

“Don’t make her too nervous there, man.” Felix commented which made the other guys laugh.

“Oh no worries, I’m not nervous.” You said even though you really were nervous. You switched into the game and typed in the code Poki had sent you. Immediately the game lobby popped up, filled with everyone who was on the call. Your character popped onto the screen and took the white color.

“Good to know. I look forward to being an imposter with you.” Corpse said making your cheeks heat up just a little.

“You really need to watch out for her.” Lily said making you giggle. She was right. You were a deceitful imposter.

You quickly changed your hat to the halo, making you match your chosen username, Angel.

“Look how fitting her character is.” Mark commented. “Is that an indication of how you will be?”

“Perhaps.” You were starting to calm your nerves. “You will just have to find out.”

“Okay, let’s get started.” Poki said as the countdown started on screen. You muted your mic. The screen flashed the crew-mate title, and you felt a little more relieved. You hated starting as an imposter.

The map you were in was Polus, your favorite. The first thing you did, was the navigation task before also doing keys. Nearly everyone was there, which meant the two imposters were faking the tasks. After that, you ran off entering the building that housed electrical and o2. You looked around for tasks.

“I have my eye on you, Angel.” Felix said as he came into o2.

You unmuted your mic. “Good, then you can watch me teach you how to do tasks.” You sassed, making the group laugh.

“Damn, I already like her.” Ethan said, getting sounds of approval from Sykkuno, Mark, and Corpse.

“Stop simping and play the game.” Poki commented, making you laugh.

Leaving o2, you ran outside to check the weather nodes. Felix was still following you closely. He was convinced you were an Imposter.

“Why is this guy following me around?” You asked, trying to run from him.

“Felix, what are you doing?” Rae asked as she popped up beside you.

“Making sure she’s not an imposter.” He sounded innocent.

“Well I’m not. Now go do your tasks.” Once again you ran from his character and entered the office. You passed Corpse’s black character before heading in, to do card swipe.

Suddenly a body was reported. Felix’s body.

“Whoa, okay, Y/n did you kill Felix?” Toast asked.

“What? No? I left him to go do my tasks.” You defended.

“I can confirm she was in office with me. I watched her do card swipe.” Corpse added.

The thing was, you passed him as he was leaving the office, and he definitely didn’t stay to watch you. He was headed in the direction you had left Felix and Rae. So, both were sus.

“Okay, then Rae where were you?” Sykkuno questioned.

“I left Felix by weapons. I was headed to lab.” You couldn’t decipher a lie from her.

“Hmmm, okay. Skip then?” Ethan offered. The group agreed.

Once back in the game, you decided to head to labs to find the rest of your tasks. Sykkuno followed you but broke off to go through decontamination. You did your scan in peace before another body was reported. This time it had been both Mark and Lily.

“Any sus?” Ethan asked.

“No, I was in electrical.” Toast said.

“I went to o2.” Poki added.

“Y/n, where were you?” Toast questioned. You were sure he thought you were an imposter.

“I was in the lab doing my scan, which I never got to finish.” You hated being interrupted mid-task.

“Anyone see her go there?”

“I passed her while I headed to decontamination.” Sykkuno vouched for you.

“Sure but the body was right outside the lab. She could have gone back to kill Mark after you were gone.”

“But I didn’t. I was doing my task.” You repeated with a little smile. You loved this game.

“Sure. I don’t believe you.” Toast was a hard one to convince.

“She didn’t do it. I entered lab and she was doing her scan.” Corpse spoke up. Again he was covering for you when you know he was not in Lab with you.

“Okay. I guess we skip?” Poki said. Everyone agreed but when it was done, you had two votes but three had skipped, so you had been spared luckily. Toast for sure voted for you, you had no clue who else did but it didn’t matter.

Back in the game, you headed back to lab to finish your scan. Once done, you headed to decontamination, then to the specimen room for a task. As you entered, you found Corpse.

“Hey Corpse, having fun with your tasks?” You asked as you went to your own task.

“I sure am.” He stated before his character was running out of the room and up to the lab. Once your task was done, you had finished all your tasks and headed back to Admin. You entered office to find a dead Sykkuno, so you hit report.

“That was for sure a self-report.” Toast quickly said.

“It wasn’t, but okay.” You said shaking your head. Toast was so sus on you all game.

“I’m sus of Toast.” Rae said while Corpse and Poki agreed with her.

“Wait, Ethan is dead too. Damn, these Imposters got around.” Toast commented. “By the way, I am not an Imposter. Y/n is.”

“She’s not. I have seen her do her tasks all game.” Corpse was quick to come to your rescue. It was sweet how he was vouching for you all game.

“Sure, I’m voting Y/n.” Toast said as his ‘I Voted’ badge popped up.

You decided you were going to vote off Toast because he was getting on your nerves. Apparently the others were feeling the same because everyone else voted off Toast as well. His character was launched into the Lava. Toast was NOT an Imposter.

Back in the game, you ran around, just seeing if you could spot anyone being sus before Poki was killed. Straight after the defeat title showed, and the Imposters were revealed to be none other than Rae and Corpse.

Everyone dropped back into the lobby.

“I told you I wasn’t an Imposter.” You boasted.

“Sorry Y/n, I should have believed you.” Toast said.

“No worries. But hey, Corpse and Rae had plenty of chances to kill me, but they didn’t. Why?” It was interesting to you.

Rae laughed. “I didn’t want to kill you right in the beginning of your first game with us. You deserved to have some fun before you got killed.”

“Well thank you.” It was sweet of Rae to do that.

“I didn’t want to kill an Angel. It wouldn’t be right.” Corpse stated with a cute laugh afterwards.

Felix groaned. “But you have no issue killing anyone else.”

“It be like that sometimes.” Ethan stated which had you in stitches, as well as the rest of the group. “Okay, let’s begin another round.” He added.

The next few games were fun and interesting. You were always a crew member, but someone was always sus on you. But no matter what, Corpse would vouch for you. Sometimes his character would follow you around, do tasks with you. It was pretty freaking cute and clear to see the man with the alluring deep voice had taken a liking to you. It was sweet.

“One more game?” Poki asked after a slew of other games. Everyone agreed. She started the game and after the countdown, the screen flashed that you were finally an Imposter. Your fellow Imposter was of course Corpse. It was only natural.

You and he teamed up and killed many of the others. Starting with Rae and Lily, moving onto Toast and Sykkuno. Then someone finally reported the bodies.

“Four bodies already?” Mark stated as the red x’s showed up on their icons.

“Damn, someone is having fun.” You said, pretending like it wasn’t you who had done half of the killing.

“I saw Poki headed into Electrical where Lily and Rae were.” Corpse said, sounding genuine as always. He was so good at Imposter. His ability to lie was excellent.

“Sure I went to Electrical, but I left after fixing the lights.” Poki said.

“I don’t know. You seem sus.” Ethan said. “I saw you enter lab, and after I saw Sykunno’s body right before someone reported Lily and Rae’s.”

“I swear, it’s not me. I was just doing my tasks. How could I kill four people in that short amount of time?”

“It’s possible. You could have vented.” Corpse was right too.

“Guys, please.” She pleaded as everyone put in their votes. Nearly everyone had voted for Poki and her character was launched into the lava, only to show she was not an Imposter.

“Sorry Poki.” Ethan said before everyone hopped back into the game.

Once again, you and Corpse were teamed up, but you saw Mark head one way while Ethan was going another. Almost silently, the two of you decided to split up and take them. You followed Mark into O2, trailing him into the tree. No one was around, so you killed him before quickly venting away from there. Making sure no one was around when you resurfaced. Corpse must have killed Ethan because the Victory screen popped up for the two of you.

“Damn, I should have known this was a team effort between Corpse and the Angel. You’re far from an Angel when you’re an imposter.” Mark complained.

“That’s part of the thrill.” It really was. You loved being able to shock people that way.

“Good job, partner. You’re a great Imposter like me. We need to team up more often.” Corpse’s words made you feel all warm. It was insanely fun being Imposter with him. Your combined skills made things that much better.

“Okay, I think it’s time to call it a night. Thank you so much for joining us, Y/n.” Poki yawned to show it was getting late.

“Of course. I loved playing with all of you. It was much better than playing with randoms.”

“I get that. Randoms can be very annoying.” Sykkuno agreed. “It was so good to meet you, Y/n. I hope you join more games so I can be an Imposter with you!”

You loved how excited he sounded. “I guess we all want a chance to be Imposter with her.” Felix stated what everyone else was thinking.

“Hey, no one steals my Imposter buddy.” Corpse spoke up, which once again had you feeling some kind of good way.

“Corpse, you’re being such a simp.” Rae laughed, which made everyone else go nuts.

You all bid your goodbyes before you exited the game and the discord call. You found there was a huge smile on your face after that fun you had just had with Poki and her friends. They were all super welcoming of you, despite not knowing a thing about you.

Poki: Thank you for playing with us. I hope you had fun! You didn’t mind being on my stream?

Y/n: I had so much fun, everyone was so good to me. Also, not at all!

Poki: Good because my chat loved you! They couldn’t stop gushing about how much they loved you. It was so cute.

This was not something you had expected. Her stream had never met you, so for them to like you playing a game with the group, that was nice.

Y/n: Oh wow, I wasn’t expecting that. That’s so sweet!

Poki: You also seemed to get Corpse simping for you. Sykkuno is super jealous.

You laughed when you read that.

Y/n: Sykkuno doesn’t have to be jealous. It was a one-time thing, and he can have Corpse back in the next game.

Sure, you wanted it to be more than a one-time thing, but you weren’t going to let your hopes get too high. Poki had many streamer friends, who would get their streams way more viewers than you ever could.

Poki: I wouldn’t count on that. We’re definitely going to use you for more games. You’re one of us now, even if you don’t stream.

Her words warmed your heard. Poki had been one of the very few people you had made friends with when you moved to Cali with your sister and your friendship was only 10 months old. It was nice to have someone who wanted to include you in on the things she was doing.

Y/n: Are you sure? Because I would hate to be taking someone more interesting’s spot.

Poki: You shut that mouth. The group loved you and we’re all looking forward to playing with you again.

Y/n: Okay if that’s what they want.

Poki: They do, now get some sleep. I know you’ve been overworking yourself for your sister.

Y/n: You would be right. Thank you for the fun night, Poki. You get some sleep as well.

Poki: 😊

You liked her message before deciding it was indeed time for bed. Editing those videos did take energy out of you, especially since your sister would review and have you re-edit the things she didn’t like. Not fun at all.

****

The next month passed by with Poki inviting you to more games with her and her friends. Most of those games included Corpse, who’d taken a liking to you. The last few games, he’d been bugging you to tell him who you were and how you met Poki, but you were keeping that a secret. You really didn’t want him or the others knowing you were the older sister of selfish party girl Olivia Bella.

Your sister had found out you’d been playing the game with Poki and her friends and decided she was going to say some shit.

“How did you get Poki to let you play with her and the other streamers?” Olivia said with clear distaste towards you.

You shrugged. “She just asked me to step in for someone one day and now they enjoy playing with me.”

She laughed obnoxiously. “That such a joke. I needed that laugh, thank you.”

You clenched your fists, trying to contain your anger against your sister. She was really grating on your nerves these days.

“Damn, I would do anything to play with Corpse. His voice is so hot.” She muttered looking deranged.

“He’s much more than his voice you know.”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s whatever I want him to be. God, I bet he’s so sexy behind that screen.”

“Please stop, he’s my friend and talk like that is uncomfortable.”

She cackled. “Corpse is not your friend, you loser. He just tolerates you like the rest of that group. I bet Poki only asked you to join out of pity.”

Her words slapped you in the face and threatened to strangle you. It was unbelievable that your younger sister was really acting like this to you.

“Why are you like this to me?” You questioned in all seriousness.

“Because you annoy me. Isn’t it obvious. I meant if I had the money, I would have moved here without you. Living with you is the worst. You know you’re like the most boring person in the world?”

The insults just kept on coming. She truly didn’t like you and it felt horrible. Family wasn’t supposed to be like this. “I get it, thank you.” You walked away before she could say anything else, she was horrible to you.

Her words made you sad. The only thing that could cheer you up was the fact that Poki had invited you to another game. It was something you needed after that conversation with your sister.

Poki: Hey girl, this kills me to do but Sean invited someone else to play tonight. Someone he said was eager to play with us. I’m so sorry.

This was simply perfect. The one time you craved interaction with the Among Us crew, they added someone else to the game. Of course it was always a possibility, but it didn’t stop from making you upset.

A couple of tears streamed down your face before you wiped them away. You wouldn’t let this get to you.

Y/n: No, please don’t worry. I understand it is always a possibility. Have a good stream!

Poki: I think you should know the person joining us is your sister. I tried to tell them it was a bad idea, but they didn’t really believe me. I’m so sorry.

Your sister was the reason you have been replaced for tonight. Perfect. Of course it was her. She always took the things you liked, away from you.

Y/n: Please stop apologizing, I completely understand.

Poki: Should I tell them she’s your sister?

Y/n: No, please don’t let them know that.

Poki: Okay, please know we will miss you in tonights stream.

Doubt filled you. After reading those words. There was no way they would miss you in the game tonight. It was clear you didn’t bring in viewers for the streams, but your sister would be able to do that without any issues. Now your night was truly ruined. Thankfully, you could just lay in bed and sulk all you wanted.

The bedroom door burst open. “Hey, can you set up this game for me? I assume you know I’m playing Among Us with the crew tonight. Told you they didn’t care if you were there or not.” Did she ever stop this shit?

“Why should I help you?” You grumbled, glaring up at your blonde-haired sister. She looked like she was dressed for another party, not an off the cuff stream.

“Well, I pay you and if you want that to continue, you will help me set up the game and stream.” Her hanging your only source of income over your head was really shitty.

You growled but got out of bed, passing by her in a haste. You entered her office and quickly got to work setting up the stream and discord. Then you showed her how to load the game. She just nodded, not looking happy at all.

“Have fun.” You sounded bitter but at this point, you couldn’t hide it.

“Oh I’m going to have so much fun with them. It’s going to be so good, and maybe they will ask me to join them more often and they can stop faking their friendships with you.”

“Cool, good for you.” The audacity of this bitch. You left once you were sure it was set up correctly. She didn’t see, but you shot her the finger as you left. She was a bitch through and through.

You retreated to your room to sulk some more. This day was such a let down for you. Over the last month, you had really clicked with the Among Us group. Meeting more streamers as Poki had more games. They all seemed to like you, but your sister was probably right, they were just being nice because they could.

As you stared at your ceiling, you heard your sister talking and knew the stream had started. Groaning, you threw on some headphones and put on your playlist that was saved strictly for when you were sad. It helped to take your thoughts from the stressor at hand? And ease your mind.

****

Meanwhile, the stream was hell. Sean majorly regretted inviting Olivia onto it. To be fair, he was only being nice because the girl had been begging to join the game for a while now in his DM’s. But it was a huge regret with the way this woman was acting. She couldn’t even be Imposter without outing herself and the second Imposter.

“You guys know Y/n is my sister right?” She said offhandedly as they were waiting in the lobby for the next game.

“Wait what? Is that true?” Ludwig asked in disbelief. This woman was nothing like Y/n. She was a total ditz compared to Y/n.

“Of course it is. I have lived with her for twenty years now, I know a lot of dirt about her.” Hearing her say this angered Poki.

“Don’t go there, Olivia. Just play the game.” Poki didn’t want her to spill anything about her friend. It was messy that she would even want to.

Olivia sighed. “Awe but you would love this.”

“No, let’s just play the game.” Corpse was quick to cut her off.

“Come on Corpse, are you sure you don’t want to hear all the embarrassing things I know about her?” Everyone was quickly realizing just how messed up in the brain Olivia was.

“You do realize most of us are streaming this live?” Rae stated, sounding just as frustrated as Corpse felt.

“Please, let’s start the game.” He all but growled, wanting to shut this woman up. The game started and he pulled out his phone. He was going to finally get Poki to tell him Y/n’s instagram.

Corpse: I know you told me you couldn’t tell me what Y/n’s instagram is but please, can I get it now? Her sister is a fucking bitch.

He has so much more he wanted to say about Olivia and entitled attitude but making sure Y/n was okay was his number one priority.

Poki: She’s going to hate me if I do it.

Corpse: Please, this is important to me.

Poki: You owe me. Here’s her insta.

She sent him a link that led to a private instagram under the name Y/nY/l/n96. He requested to follow her.

Corpse: Thank you, let me know when to pay up.

Poki: Will do, now get into the game or Olivia is going to kill you. She’s imposter.

He got back into the game, hoping Y/n would accept his request.

****

After an hour of ‘sad girl hours’. You decided to do something that could help you not to focus on Olivia streaming in the other room.

Clicking instagram, you saw a notification. corpse_husband has requested to follow you. This was interesting. Either he’s smart enough to figure out who you are or Poki told him.

You accepted his follow and followed him back. He only had seven pictures, and of course there weren’t face pics. You admired him for keeping himself faceless to his fans. Now you hoped he wouldn’t bend to their pressure and reveal his face. Being faceless was good for him and his anxiety. The latest pics were his hand reveals he did for the fans, they made you giggle.

Corpse was good at keeping himself secret and you liked that. You did what you could to stay secret as well. Your Instagram profile picture was not even you, so no one would be able to point you out even if they knew your face. Also, you have hidden the account from Olivia, so she couldn’t send her fans to torment you.

As you scrolled Instagram, you received a DM. It was from the one and only Corpse Husband.

Corpse: This stream is hell without you tonight. Why did Sean have to invite her?

It made you feel a little better to see that Corpse was missing you in the stream tonight.

Y/n: That’s a question you will have to ask Sean. I was looking forward to playing Among Us with the group as well, but hey, it looks like they found someone who will bring in the views.

Corpse: Nope. She’s chasing away everyone’s viewers. Your sister is the worst. I see why you didn’t want us to know the two of you were related.

Your blood ran cold. How did he know that?

Y/n: How did you know she was my sister?

Corpse: She won’t shut up about it. No one can get her to stop. I’m sorry if you didn’t want us to know about this.

Of course, you should have known that Olivia was going to tell everyone that. She was also probably opening her mouth about so much other stuff.

Y/n: Well fuck. This sucks.

Corpse: Hey, don’t worry about it. No one is judging you for this, but we are wondering how you manage to handle her.

A soft giggle left your mouth.

Y/n: It’s not easy. I mean sure I’m the older sister, but she acts like the queen around here.

Corpse: Damn. Here we go again. Your sister is trying to start some drama.

Hearing this, you realized you had to do something about this. There was no way you could let her sit there and continue to mouth off about you or anyone else in her life.

Y/n: Brace yourself, I’m about to ruin her stream.

Corpse: Good luck!

It was time to put her in her place, you got up and headed to the utility closet by the front door of the apartment. The fuse box was located there. You opened it and found the switch for her office and clicked it off. It was half a second before a loud scream was heard.

In less than thirty seconds she was running out of the office with a livid look upon her face. “What the fuck have you done?” She screamed while stomping up to you.

“I heard you were talking shit about me and decided to end it.” You crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“I can say whatever I want. The group was enjoying it.” She tried to act smug.

You laughed in her face. “Do you ever not lie?”

“Do you ever stop being a bitter bitch?” The anger was clear, but you didn’t care.

“Oh fuck off. You were annoying them with your ridiculous bullshit. I completely saved your ass from making a fool of yourself.”

“I fucking hate you!” She stepped up to you. “I’m kicking you out. Pack your shit and get the fuck out of my apartment.” The look on her face, showed she was serious about this.

“Fine.” Was all you said before you turned around and went back to your room, well your former room now. Pulling some bags out, you stuffed some clothes and important items into them. Once filled, you pulled on shoes and made sure you had what you needed until you could come get the rest of your stuff. Currently, you didn’t know how to feel about any of this, but you did need to get away from her.

PART TWO >>

[zafirosreverie]

You ask, I deliver 😊❤

Part 2 of this

a/n: this gif is the one that inspired this. This is what i imagine Agatha looks like in this.

"Okay okay, I have one" you said cheerfully "Your favorite food?"

The woman sitting across from you just laughed and shook her head, crossing her arms.

"I already told you that I don't have a favorite food" she replied

"Oh come on, everyone has one!!" you said, pouting

"Well, not everyone has lived for more than three hundred years, doll" she defended herself "When you live that long, food just becomes food. There is no room for favoritism."

You sighed, dropping yourself on the other side of the couch, away from her.

It had been almost two weeks since you went to Westview to find your soulmate. Almost two weeks since you rescued Agatha, since you said goodbye to Agnes. Almost two weeks since you brought her to your home.

And you still didn't know anything about her.

Well, you knew that she was a witch, that she had tried to steal Wanda Maximoff's powers, that maybe she wasn't quite good, that her moral compass was a fucking pinwheel, and that she was the most fucking beautiful person you've ever met (also the more annoying, but you let it pass because she was cute when she wanted to be).

But you didn’t know anything else.

Agatha looked at you curiously, trying to understand you. When she'd written her words on her forearm, a part of her had assumed you wouldn't go looking for her, not after all the times she ignored you.

When you freed her, she had been so grateful that she had hugged you as if her life depended on it. You'd froze for a moment, but returned the gesture almost immediately, giving the older woman a comfort she didn't know she was looking for.

Then, instead of demanding answers or bombarding her with questions right away, you had simply asked her if she was okay. It had surprised her, but not as much as when you offered her to stay at your place. You didn't even know her, you had no ties other than the one fate had given you, and yet she could see in your eyes that you would do anything of her, just because she was breathing. As simple as that.

For all her mistakes and flaws, Agatha was a woman who did not take this kind of loyalty lightly. She had cared about you since before she met you, so she hadn't dragged you into her world, but maybe, she should have asked you first. You were connected after all, and it was selfish of her not to even try to get close to you to give you a chance to decide if you wanted to fall into the abyss with her. From the look you gave her when she confirmed to you that she was a witch, she knew that you would probably throw yourself headfirst without her asking.

That was why she had shared with you what she thought was important for you to know. From her morally gray antecedents, to her failures and successes as a witch. But, even though you were a bit upset when she told you that she had killed Sparky, you really weren't scared like she thought you would.

What confused her the most, however, was that you didn't seem interested in the whole black magic thing or how she tried to manipulate an unstable girl. No, ever since you got to your house (and in fact, all the way by bus to your city) you had been asking her about small and common things, like her favorite food. She just didn't understand it, she didn't understand you.

"Your turn" you said, snapping the witch out of her thoughts.

Agatha smiled a little and she rolled her eyes fondly. She couldn't deny that, if you two were going to spend the rest of your life together, she had to get to know you a little more (at least that was the lie she was telling to herself).

"Your favorite food?" she said, imitating your tone of voice

"Hey! You can't copy me!" you said, crossing your arms "You have to ask your own questions, what you really want to know about me"

"And what if I really want to know your favorite food?" she smiled amused by your pouts. Okay, you were cute, she would give you that.

"... you really suck at this" you muttered "And just so you know, I don't speak like that" you said, slightly offended.

The older woman giggled when you tossed the notebook and pen that you had been using to jot down her answers on the coffee table. You put your legs up on the couch and stuck your tongue out at her before hiding your face on your knees.

God, you were adorable.

"You could at least pretend that you are interested in knowing me" you murmured.

That wiped the smile off the older woman's face. She looked at you for a moment, still not sure how to read you. One moment, you were the cutest and sweetest person she'd ever met, the next, you could be incredibly competitive, and the next one, you seemed like a little child, trying to get approval from your elders. You really were a mystery to her, but what she was sure of was that she wanted to see your smile again.

"How old are you?" she asked suddenly. You raised your head to frown at her

"What?"

"How old are you?" she asked again

"I don't see why that matters" you murmured.

Agatha looked at you for another moment before sighing and getting up from the couch. For a moment, you thought that she would leave the room, but she surprised you when she knelt in front of you and carefully removed your arms from your face, lowering your legs so that she could accommodate between them. You were both surprised by how well she fit in there.

"It matters, because I want to know you" she told you, lifting your chin with one hand while she rested the other on your knee "I really want to"

You looked at her for a moment, searching for any trace of lies in her eyes, but you didn't find any.

"Then why are you refusing to talk to me?" you asked.

Agatha frowned for a moment as she thought. She supposed that walking away hadn't worked, nor did closing in on you to evaluate you from afar. Perhaps the straightforward truth would work better for you.

"Because I don't understand" she said "I don't understand why you went for me after I ignored you. I don't understand why you trusted me and made the potion without question. I don't understand why you didn't run away when I told you what I've done. I don't understand why you ask me such simple questions. Why did you let me stay here. Especially, I don't understand why you make me feel so vulnerable and so afraid of hurting you. I don't understand how you do to steal my heart a little more every day. I don't understand you. And I don't like not understanding. "

You blinked and saw how her gaze asked you all the questions her mouth couldn't. You were facing a lost woman, and she needed your help.

"I went because I wanted to find you" you said "I trusted you because you are a part of me. I didn't run away because I am not afraid of you. I ask you simple questions because it is the little things that make us ourselves, and I want to know you, the real you. I let you stay because I want to be your home. And I'm also afraid of losing you. You also steal my heart every day. You don't have to understand everything, you just have to feel it."

Agatha looked at you in amazement and love. How were you so vulnerable and yet so wise? Another thing she didn't understand about you. You took her hand and pressed it to your cherst.

“Close your eyes” you said. She frowned but obeyed “Do you feel my heart beating?” you asked and she nodded “Do you understand?”

She did. Your heart was beating at the same rate as hers. You belonged to her and she belonged to you. She nodded again. You brought your face close to hers and caressed her cheek, smiling when she leaned into her touch.

"I don't know if I deserve you as a soulmate" she admitted, opening her eyes.

"Try to get rid of me" you joked lightly, making her chuckle.

The older woman wanted to kiss you, she really wanted to, but she didn't know if the gesture would be welcome or it would be too soon. You must have seen the trouble in her eyes, because it was you who brought her face closer to hers slowly.

"It's funny isn't it?" you murmured

"What?" she asked confused

"You are a woman from the 17th century, I am from the 20th century ..." you said "We are soulmates born three centuries apart ... Time collides with us, Agatha Harkness".

The witch smiled again before finally sealing her lips with yours. A young mouth against an old one, light with darkness, love and fear, present with past, with the promise of the future.

Indeed, time collides with you.

__________

A few days later, you smiled when you found your notebook scrawled in Agatha's fine handwriting:

Favorite color: purple Y/N'S eye color

Favorite food taste: Y/N's lips

Favorite sound: Y/N's voice

Favorite moment: yet to discover.

[hillnerd]

WAKING UP- CHAPTER 5

Rating M      A03   ff.net   [ Previous Chapter]  [start at the beginning] 

For thanks yous, chapter warnings and ‘what happened last chapter’ scroll to the end of this chapter :)

=======================================================

CHAPTER 5 - QUEEN OF CLUBS

Ginny didn’t have a very large room, and it felt even smaller as Hermione tried to ready herself to go to a club, of all places. She wasn’t the club ‘type.’ She couldn’t say for sure, as she’d never been to one, but what little familiarity she had made it sound awful. Loud noises, skimpily dressed, dancing as if she hadn’t a care in the world seemed… exhausting. And pointless. And dangerous! Fleur, Angelina and Ginny were trying on a myriad of dresses and asking for the group's approval. While the wireless played raucous tunes and the other girls giggled, Hermione spent her time packing and repacking her beaded bag. 

The extension charm was still firmly in place. She hadn’t figured out a way to keep things more organized within it, though, so the canned goods she’d placed there kept falling over. She wasn’t going to forget food again, that she knew. She hadn’t located a new tent yet, but she needed to prioritize that soon. She had just finished repacking some of her clothes when she heard Ginny ask, “What are you doing?”

Hermione snapped the bag shut, not knowing how to explain her preparations in any way that made her seem of sound mind. 

“Just wasn’t sure what to wear…”  It wasn’t a complete lie. She wasn’t sure what fit her anymore. 

“Well, you can never go wrong with a little black dress,” said Ginny pointing to a thin-strapped sundress Hermione hadn’t had reason to wear in well over a year. 

She nodded and went to a corner, turning her front away from them as she changed into the dress. As she wiggled her jeans out from under the dress she noticed the other girls showed no similar discretion, happily throwing dresses off in the middle of the room. 

Hermione gave a speculative look in the mirror, tugging a bit at the neckline of her sundress. It fit differently than before, bagging around her waist and chest in an unflattering way, and the straps would not stay in place. 

“I can do alterations to dresses if anyone needs them,” said Fleur, grabbing a book from within her bag, discreetly catching Hermione’s eye. Arachne Salavarrieta’s Little Book of Sewing had a few good spells for altering clothing on the fly. All four of them looked over the text for just the right spells to take in, let out, and shorten dresses. 

Ginny, still underage and unable to do magic, begged them “you’ve got to shorten my skirt once we’re there!”

“Why not have us do it now?” Angelina asked, propping up a magically enlarged hand mirror on the roll top desk.

“I have four older brothers downstairs,” Ginny said with a sour look.

“Why should that matter?”

“One of those gits will take the piss in front of Mum if I look remotely sexy. That is, if Mum doesn’t already notice all on her own. I don’t know! Either way, just help me with the hem at the club, please? I don’t want to be the only one there looking frumpy!”

“From-py?” Fleur asked.

“Unfashionable, old-fashioned, overly modest and drab,” Hermione provided, fairly certain the term had been liberally applied to herself over the years.

“You look far from from-py, but we will help with the skirt,” Fleur assured Ginny. 

“And if any brother gives you shit at the club, we’ll hex them for good measure too,” Angelina added, bringing out a pair of curling tongs and prompting Ginny to sit in front of her.

Hermione pulled at her dress some more, not sure how much to alter it, and not sure if she wanted to bother. A pernicious guilt gnawed at her as she pulled the dress taut to her body. She should be doing something that mattered, not fretting over a dress. She should be in Australia. She hadn’t earned a rest, let alone a ‘fun time out.’ She’d taken no steps forward. She’d not found her parents’  location, she’d not earned money, she’d not even checked to see if her old childhood home was still standing.

“Hermione, is everything alright?” Fleur quietly asked, coming to stand beside her at the long mirror.

Hermione forced a smile onto her face.

“Oh you know me… I’m never sure what to do with fashion and all that. I’m more at ease in a library.”

Fleur gave her a searching look she’d seen before at Shell Cottage. It was a look that sought truth behind idle chit chat. It brought a sisterly sort of comfort that Hermione had not thought Fleur capable of a year ago. She had found the French woman to be condescending and too effortlessly beautiful to warrant any attempt at friendship. The war had given her an appreciation for Fleur, though. They were something akin to friends now.

“I just…” Hermione said in a low voice only Fleur could hear as the wireless yowled another rock anthem. “This feels so silly when there’s so much to do.”

“We’ve earned a bit of silly, do you not think so?”

“You all might have…”

“Hermione,” she said, putting a tentative hand around her shoulder. “You ‘ave done more than most anyone.”

“Since The Battle I’ve done nothing! Everyone is helping rebuild and all I’ve done is sleep! And my parents are still in Australia, and I’ve…I’ve done nothing to get them back.”

“Ron told us of your parents and the memories… Will you be needing any help?”

“No,” Hermione quickly insisted. “No. I just need to make a plan and get them back here. Once I have a plan then it will all be alright.”

“You are meaning to bring them back here in England… To the home you lived in before?” 

Hermione nodded, and saw a look of concern wrinkle Fleur’s otherwise flawless brow. 

“Hermione… Have you been to your home since the war ended?”

Hermione shook her head. “I’m planning on checking on it soon.”

“This is why I asked. You can not do that alone. Many Muggleborn homes were cursed after the war. Some are no longer standing,” said Fleur, her voice ringing with intensity despite the lyric tone.

Hermione was aware that many a Muggleborn home had been razed to the ground, but refused to believe the same could have happened to her childhood home. 

“Even the Burrow needed much curse breaking,” she continued. “We do not know each other well, but I am happy to help you with this.”

“Oh you don’t have to!” Hermione said with a shake of her head.

“Oh poppyrot!” Fleur said with a dismissive wave of her hand. Hermione let out a long breath, her gratitude forcing her to not correct Fleur to the word ‘poppycock.’ “It is my pleasure!” 

“You two alright?” asked Ginny giving the two a sidelong look as Angelina continued to curl her hair.

“We are,” Fleur said, looking to Hermione who confirmed this with a head nod. “Just helping out with fashion. It is a ritual we women do. The girls gather and dress and help one another to look more beautiful, while the men do nothing.”

“Maybe they shower,” Angelina added with a laugh, “but probably not. They never put in half the effort we do!”

“You see? It is the way of it,” Fleur said, giving Hermione a small squeeze and a meaningful look. “I can help whenever you like.”

“Thank you, Fleur…” she said with equal import. When the other girls looked at her with curiosity she continued, “I don’t have any of my usual things like makeup or hair products.”

“I have a ton of stuff in my bag,” Angelina offered. 

“As do I. We girls help one another,” Fleur said, grabbing a comb and some bottles of French products Hermione didn’t recognize. She continued with the faintest whisper, “You can send a message or Patronus to me when you are ready to enter your old home.”

Words failing her, Hermione put a hand on Fleur’s and gave it a small squeeze. Fleur said nothing, but the warm smile she sent in the mirror reassured her that the French woman completely understood.

After an hour of sewing alterations, primping, squealing, and many changes of clothes by each of the ladies, they decided they were almost ready enough to leave. 

“Oh! Jewelry! I forgot about that,” Ginny moaned, looking through her small box of earrings. 

Angelina and Fleur were eager to help her, but Hermione wasn’t sure she could take another debate about fashion. She was grateful for the silly hour she’d gotten to spend with them, though. Despite her hair still being a bit wild and curly, Hermione had to admit she liked how she looked in the mirror. The black sundress fit her perfectly now. She almost looked like she had a figure again. Between the dress and the makeup, and a bit of product from Angelina to keep her hair from frizzing, she looked almost pretty. She felt a touch of excitement flurry in her stomach at the thought of looking nice in front of Ron. It almost made her forget how nervous she was to be out of the safety of the Burrow. She gripped her beaded bag close to her side.

“I’m going to wait with the boys, if that’s alright.”

The girls waved her off as they held different earrings beside Ginny’s face. 

As Hermione stepped into the hallways she immediately ran into a thin, though sturdy, body and let out a small exclamation of alarm. She quickly muffled her sound when she saw it was only Harry.

“Are you all ready to go then?” he asked, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Ginny behind the closing door.

“We’re almost all ready,” she said with a fond smile. “You know girls, it takes them forever.”

“You’re a girl too, according to Ron at least,” said Harry, giving her a wry grin. Harry was looking rather sharp in Muggle clothes that actually fit, and his hair was looking mysteriously untidy. 

“Did you do something to your hair?”

“What?” he asked, putting a hand to the back of his hair and patting at it. “It doesn’t look bad, does it?”

“No,” she laughed, seeing the panic in his eyes. “Just not as wild as usual.”

“Yeah, well it took like four spells and I think they’re already wearing off.”

She studied his hair and could see one by one little hairs slowly moving into disarray, almost like someone had rubbed an invisible balloon against it. 

“You’re trying to look extra nice for Ginny,” she teased.   He frowned, but a blush began to form around his jaw. “Yeah, well, we’ve never gotten to properly go someplace together, have we? You did the same for Ron, right?”

He had her there. 

“Speaking of, where is he?”

“Downstairs, I think,” he said, hand going to his hair again. “Is it looking bad again?”

“It’s looking more like it usually does, if that’s what you mean.” His face scrunched in disapproval. “Really, it looks fine. Your hair fits you best when you do nothing to it. You look perfectly nice.”

“You too,” he said with a glance at her, before heading towards the bathroom. “Ok, I’m going to try to spell this one more time.”

She knew it was a lost cause, but didn’t have the heart to tell him as he eagerly tried to preen. 

As she reached the bottom steps of the stairs, she could hear the low rumble of men’s voices.

“They’re taking ages,” Charlie sighed. “I don’t see why it takes them so long.”

“Women wear more?” said George. 

“Harry’s hair has taken almost as long,” Lee said with a snort.

Hermione looked around the corner and saw the men all sprawled around the room, shoes up on tables and couch arms in a way they’d never dare if Mrs Weasley were in the room.

While everyone lightheartedly bantered with one another, in the corner sat Ron. His brow was creased as he silently played chess with Lee. He looked haggard, and for the eleventh time that evening, Hermione wished they weren’t going out. She’d much rather spend the evening wrapped in Ron’s arms, as she had that afternoon. 

Her nerves had frayed at the thought of sleeping beside him, worried he would catch her in a nightmare. Silencing spell in place, she had feigned grumpy tiredness when he asked her questions. There had been no need to worry, though. Cuddled up to him she fell asleep as surely as one did on sleeping draughts, and somehow her nightmares were kept entirely at bay. It was the best sleep she’d had in months. The only thing that could have improved it was waking up beside Ron. He’d been gone when she’d woken, with no one knowing where he was. He’d come back from the village looking worn out giving excuses of ‘getting supplies’ which didn’t hold up to real scrutiny, when she thought of the timeline he gave. Ron Weasley was up to something, she just didn’t know what.

As if her thoughts drew him to her, Ron’s eyes rose and met hers.

The furrow in his brow smoothed, his scowling expression softened, and a boyish smile of his tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

“Who’s winning?” she asked, approaching the chess board.

“Ron was, but I think my luck’s about to change,” said Lee, a few of the men joining him in laughter and elbowing Ron, seeing his rather besotted look. Usually he’d turn beet red and curse at them, but his face remained mostly impassive as he met her eyes and smiled. The only sign of his discomfort was his ears going a tiny bit flush.

“Check mate,” said Ron, moving his bishop across the board, and rising from his seat.

“No it’s not, is it?” Lee asked, looking at the board. “Damn!”

Ron gave the lot a two fingered salute and led her from the living room to the kitchen, where his mother was doing some tidying and listening to the radio.

“I wasn’t sure about the dress,” she mumbled. Ron’s eyes traveled down her and she suppressed the urge to readjust her neckline, though she wasn’t sure in what direction.

“Well you look amazing in it,” he said, looking her in the eye and making her stomach do a tsukahara flip. 

“Thank you,” she managed. A pleasurable rush of nerves ran up her spine. Despite looking very tired, he looked handsome. He was wearing an untucked dress shirt she’d not seen before, with the sleeves rolled up his arms in a way that made the nerves in her spine turn to jolts. Given the darker color scheme of it, she assumed it was a hand-me-down from Bill. She quickly realized all of him was looking rather polished, with the exception of his beat up boots. She wasn’t sure what to say to him. He was so sensitive about clothes, and the last thing she wanted was to cause additional stress on him, but she also knew he was a bit insecure and it might be nice to compliment his appearance.

“So how long until the rest of the girls are ready?” he asked. 

Well there went that opportunity.

“Soon, I think. They just had to pick out earrings for Ginny,” she said looking up into face. His eyes looked so weary. “Are you doing well?”

“Course,” he grunted, immediately turning from her. “Mum, do you need help with that?”

Mrs Weasley turned from the dishes and assured him she didn’t. Despite the assurance, he started putting dishes in the cabinets. He didn’t spare her another look, not when the rest of the girls came down the stairs some ten minutes later, and not when they gathered on the edge of the property.

“Before we go,” George announced, beginning to hand each of them a playing card, “here is a Muggle I.D. for each of you.”

“Why do we need an I.D?” Ginny asked, inspecting the playing card in the waning light of the sunset.

“Because they check to see if you’re old enough to drink at clubs and such and can’t just put up an age line,” answered Bill.

“Why didn’t you transfigure these already?” asked Hermione, looking at her playing card, the Queen of Clubs.

“I’d have to know what Muggle I.D.s look like to do that. This just has a spell to register as an I.D. to Muggles. Pretty clever, if I do say so,” George said, smiling to them all as he finished handing out the cards. “Getting the dates right was tricky. Just make sure you say your birthday was in 79 or earlier. The card will match up with whatever date you say.”

“Where are we apparating to, George?” asked Angelina.

“My hotel room’ll do,” he answered.

Hermione felt Ron unexpectedly stiffen beside her. 

“Everyone but Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Fleur knows where to go. So you all can pair up and side-along there. Here, Gin, come with me,” said George, waving Ginny over.

Ron made as if to grab Ginny back, but George had quickly disappeared with her. One by one they all disapparated, leaving her and a distracted Ron staring at the space George had just occupied.

Ron licked his dry lips and scrunched his brow in determination. “Right… Okay then, I guess we better go.”

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” she said, gently putting her hand in his. “We could just stay in, you and me.”

His shoulders slumped. “Merlin, I wish I could take you up on that.”

“Why don’t you?” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’ve been dreading going out.”

“You too?”  “I packed and repacked my bag, just in case,” she said, giving the beaded bag a small shake that made its contents give a crash. “Damn. That’s probably the books again. I really need to find a way to make things stay in place!” 

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” he said with a fond look on his face. “But we should go. It’ll be good to get out, plus with G— nevermind.”

“Plus what?”

“Look, I really want to tell you, but I’m just not up for it all right now.” Her face must have given away how frustrating she found that. “I will, I swear I will! Just not tonight. Let’s just— let’s just pretend we’re okay and go out and try to enjoy ourselves.”

It went against every instinct in her body to agree to wait to know something, but she nodded her acquiescence.   His large hand moved to her back and the tight feeling of being compressed overtook her as he Apparated them to George’s hotel room.

In moments they reached their destination and the feeling of her breath being stolen didn’t stop, for Ron’s fingers grazed her side as he took a pace back from her. 

When they arrived they received a good amount of teasing for taking their time to arrive, heavily implying the two had been snogging. Neither teen corrected them. As everyone made small talk, Ron was completely silent and looked about the room with seeming purpose. He had shown immense concern about George right before they left, had that intense conversation with him earlier, and she had to admit George smelt like a bar when he arrived and looked like he might have been sleeping on the floor of one. She had no idea what Ron was looking for, except perhaps empty bottles. The room was sparse, and only a tray of food, and a small bag in the corner showing any signs someone had been living there. 

No one seemed to notice his actions except George who fixed him with a glare when no one was looking. Ron looked far from sheepish, and instead stood tall and locked eyes with his brother.

“Let’s get going. It’s just a few streets over,” George announced to the room, looking away from Ron.

Nerves shook Hermione as they travelled down the grimy London street. It did not look much different from Tottenham Court Road. The last time she had been near this part of London they’d ducked into a grotty cafe and been cornered by a pair of Death Eaters.

At least then it had been a less obtrusive group, with only her, Ron and Harry. Now they were a large boisterous group with so many redheads they stood out like a flock of goldfinches. Most of them were loudly talking or laughing, and many a passerby smirked at the boisterous group. If someone wanted to target them, they’d be all too easy to spot. She gripped her beaded bag so harshly one of her nails chipped. 

Thankfully George was quite correct about the distance being short. In minutes they arrived at a large dark building with music dimly pulsing through its walls and a line to get in. 

A large barrel-chested man with the thickest neck Hermione had ever seen stood at the door. The eldest Weasleys along with Lee and Angelina were let through with barely a glance at their playing cards, but as soon as he spotted the younger members of the group the bouncer began to look like an agitated bulldog. 

He eyed Ron and Hermione’s cards closely, but gave a much more scrutinizing look towards Ginny and Harry as they handed their playing cards to him. He held a small flashlight to the Jack of Spades and Queen of Spades, and even ran a fingernail along the edge. 

“What’s your birthday?”

“1979!” Harry offered, before wincing at his volume. Ron let out a chuckle, while Ginny rolled her eyes. The man’s glare intensified. “Er… July 31st 1979, that is.”

“Hmm… And you?” growled the Bouncer, sourly looking to Ginny.

“Tonight’s my birthday, actually!” she said with a winning smile. Hermione nearly protested, but Ron gave a small shake of his head. 

“Ah, happy birthday!” said the man nodding at the card before handing it back to her, looking much less ornery. “Let Teresa know about it, and they’ll do ya something special.”

“Your birthday, huh?” Harry asked Ginny as soon as they were through the door.

“Much easier to have a good time and get some free drinks that way, isn’t it?” she said, giving a conspiratorial grin he shared.

“But it’s not your birthday!” Hermione protested, irritation prickling down her neck.

“I’m not eighteen either,” Ginny breezily pointed out. 

“Well you’re lucky the card was able to adapt to that when you hadn’t said an actual date,” Hermione persisted. She clutched her beaded bag closer to her chest. “We don’t want to stand out.”

“Why not? It’s a Muggle club. It should be fun.”

“Well, it might be a Muggle club, but that doesn’t mean it’s completely safe.”

“You worry too much,” she said in an infuriatingly calm and understanding voice.

“No! We have to make sure we stay low profile and don’t say anything wrong, because all it takes is one wrong word and then everything falls apart!”

Harry looked to the ground, his eyebrows knitting together. He had to be thinking of the Taboo and the Snatchers as well.

“It’s just a bit of fun, Hermione. We’ll be okay,” said Ginny with a smile, looking around to spot the rest of their group, taking Harry by the hand towards a corner table. “Ah there they are!”

Hermione had never felt more like shaking her friend. Didn’t she understand how dire things were? They’d met Death Eaters at a Muggle cafe in London last August, and Fenrir and those Snatchers in the woods. All it took was one small mistake and then hell would rain down on them; they could end up beaten or cursed or stabbed in the chest.   “Hermione…” she heard Ron’s voice quiet and low in her ear. “There isn’t a Taboo anymore…”

“You don’t know that!” she almost shouted at him, painfully gripping her beaded bag. 

One of his large hands gently started unwinding her fingers from the bag, before taking it from her and putting it in his jacket pocket. He started massaging her fingers. Under the pink and orange lights she could just make out the imprint the bag had left on her hands.

“I can feel the Taboo’s broken, and I bet you can too if you concentrate on it,” he said, continuing to work her hands until they became limp in his. “But if you want to leave and go back to the Burrow, we can right now.”

His quiet earnest words brought her eyes up to his. He saw right through her. He didn’t give her empty platitudes. He gave her a common sense answer to why things would be different, and an out if she was uncomfortable. She felt the overwhelming need to kiss him, and despite the crowd she decided to indulge herself. She stood on her tiptoes, and he took her lead leaning down to brush his lips against hers, hands still holding hers. How had they had so many years together without kissing? 

For years she’d had to sit near him, with careful scrutinization over every action and inch between them. Was sitting too close to her friend? Would her leg pressing to his be too much? Would he notice how her eyes were fixated on his mouth a good three minutes as he grinned and told her about the mad thing he’d seen earlier that day? Did his hand around her shoulder linger longer than a friend’s hand would? When he’d tiredly leaned his head into her, had it meant something to him?

Now she could kiss him whenever she liked, and melt into his strong form, and let her hands be caressed, and get the anticipation of more ring through her body, and know it might be fulfilled later. The only thing she struggled to hold back was blurting out how very much she loved everything about him.

“Alright?” he asked as their lips parted. 

She nodded, biting her bottom lip to keep herself from saying ‘I love you and actually yes I’d like to go home, but only because I want to snog you until both of us can barely breathe.’

“Ready to have ‘a bit of fun?’”

“I think I can manage,” she said with a smile. As long as he was by her side something akin to enjoyment of the evening could happen.

They went to a back table that didn’t nearly have enough seating for them all. This didn’t seem to matter as half of them strategically placed their jackets and purses so strangers would know it was occupied, while the others went to the bar to get drinks for everyone. Their table butted nearly up to the bar, and Ron perched on one of its stools. 

“Do you want something to drink?” Hermione asked, looking at a menu. 

He shook his head. “Someone needs to stay sober. Might as well be me.” He took the menu from her and eagerly pointed to it. “But I could do with these fried cheese things!”

She got in line, ready to order and pay when George stepped in. “Put your cash away. You’re not buying a thing, tonight! We’re here to celebrate you three, after all!”

Grateful not to have to spend the meager amount of cash she had, she put in her order for Ron’s food, and her wine. She’d never drunk much in her life, but she experienced the occasional wine with her parents.

She had worried the evening would be tedious, but seeing everyone looking giddy, toasting one another, and even dancing made her rethink the evening. 

Ron had kept a close eye on George, but his brother was looking at ease and jubilant surrounded by family and friends. Hermione enjoyed the warming tang of red wine as they chatted away and seemed more relaxed than they’d been in years. The wine soothed her nerves as well.

“Was your skirt that short when we left?” George asked Ginny after she did a twirl to the music that accidentally flashed a cheek of her knickers.

“Yes it was,” she coolly answered. “And even if it wasn’t, there’s nothing you’re going to do about it, is there?” 

Harry, already looking sloshed, looked down at Ginny’s legs, his mouth slightly open.

Ron gave a chuckle before flicking his friend’s ear. 

“Righ’, sorry,” Harry said with a nod. Despite all the spells he’d done on his hair, it had reverted to its normal disheveled state.

“Let’s dance!” Ginny said, grabbing Harry’s hand. If it weren’t for the few rounds of shots, Hermione didn’t think they’d be able to get him on to the dance floor, but in his current state he happily followed his girlfriend to the bright lights and thumping music. This seemed an adorable prospect until they actually saw him dance.

“Oh shit… Someone needs to hit him with a stunner or something,” Ron laughed, as Hermione leaned back into him. 

Harry had no sense of rhythm at all, and his stiff-armed movements made many people wince. Ginny didn’t seem to care, and was happily dancing beside him. Her effervescence seemed to drown out Harry’s sad attempts at movement.

Ron guffawed, and shook his head in amusement. Seated on a bar stool, he was only a half a foot taller than Hermione, which made for much more convenient kisses with no tiptoes needed. She had finished her second glass of wine and had a hot pleasant sensation buzzing through her. She put her head back and closed her eyes, feeling the vibration of his deep laugh and the music thrumming. 

“Hmm… Y’should dance with me,” she murmured, though she made no move towards the dance floor. Instead she rubbed her hands down his legs that were on either side of her. The lights on the dancefloor shifted to green for a moment, and the cozy peace felt strangled. She glanced up to Ron, and thought of the one thing that really made her feel nothing but warmth. “You should snog me.”

He chuckled a bit, and she felt the back of his fingers graze her cheek. 

“Dance or snog— Whichever you want,” he replied in her ear. “Though it seems you’re going a bit legless for dancing.”

“I am not!” she protested, pushing herself off of him and nearly stumbling. She stood very tall and made firm eye contact. “I am far from inebriated and do not like the implication that I am inebredated!”

“You mean inebriated?”

“That’s what I just said!” she said, grabbing his hand. “C’mon, let’s dance!”

He gave a shake of his head, but followed her onto the dance floor, where most of their group were dancing. Despite the yellow and orange lights, they were a vibrant group that stood out. Hermione couldn’t think why she’d been worried about it, though! And Ron was actually a very good dancer. She’d discovered this at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, and was happy nothing had changed. He had a grand sense of rhythm and the way he held her close and moved about with her made her feel like one of those ladies from an old musical. Roger Gingers? No, that wasn’t it… 

“You make me feel like a lady!” she shouted over the music. “I mean, a lady from a musical that dances and such! Y’know? Like with Astaire and all those old ones in the movies?” 

Ron gave a nod, and she nodded along happy he knew the reference. Yes! He and she were meant for one another. He knew what she meant when she said things. Oh no, that couldn’t be right. Fred Astaire was a Muggle! There was no way he knew that reference!

“Wait! You don’t know who Astaire is!”

“Nope,” he replied, an amused grin making his dimple appear. 

“Then why did you nod along?”

“You’re supposed to smile and nod at drunk people and irate girlfriends— and you’re the best of both!”

She laughed as he spun her around. She could do this forever! Just spin and spin, his hands on her, the bright lights bringing out odd colors in his hair, his warm smile, the invigorating feeling of just being alive...

“You dance as well as you snog!” she yelled, right as the song stopped, making many on the dance floor snigger, but she didn’t care. It was true. And he was hers, not anyone else's, and she got to snog him whenever she wanted. “Let’s get another drink!”

She bounded to the bar, and added another wine to the tab George had started. 

“I think you might’ve had enough,” said Ron, sidling up beside her.

“Then you drink it!” she said, holding up the wine before taking a sip. He gently took the wine glass from her, and put it on the bar.

“Ever since I drank that poisoned mead, I’m not much for drinks from people I don’t know.”

“I just drank from it, though, so you know it’s safe,” she said, holding her hair up and away from her too hot neck. 

“And I need to be sober so someone can get us all home at the end of the evening.”

That was a very good point. “You should snog me in the club’s bathroom,” she countered. 

“That is very very tempting,” he said leaning in and giving her a peck on the nose. “When you aren’t sloshing about I might take you up on that.”

“M’not!” she said, grabbing her wine glass. 

“Another round?” George asked, holding out a tray of shots. “For the trio! And the birthday girl!”

“Oh yes, let’s drink to my birthday!” Ginny crowed, grabbing what was at least her shot glass. There was a quick clearing of a throat from behind her from Bill. “Oh come oooon! Can’t I have some fun?”

“You can have plenty of fun. Just might want to be able to remember it tomorrow.”

“Don’t be mummish!” she replied, downing her drink.

Harry tittered at this, and she put a hand over his shot glass before he could get it to his lips. “You might want to hold back.”

“Mummish,” Harry laughed, with a shake of his shaggy head. 

“How much has he had?” Charlie asked.

“A couple of shots and a beer,” said Lee with a shake of his head. “Complete and utter lightweight.”

“I want another shot,” Harry protested.

“Sorry, sloppy, leave this to the professionals,” George said, downing it before Harry could stop him. Hermione caught a grim look pass between Ron and Bill, but dismissed it as a good song came on and the other girls dragged them all onto the dance floor.

The party continued until Ron insisted they take a water break. Hermione slide into the booth next to him, wobbling only slightly, yet she gladly snuggled into him.

There was a gauzy blur to everything, with only the center of her vision having much clarity. It was nice. Her blurred cameo-vision settled on Ron. He was very handsome. And tall! 

She told him so.

“Thanks,” he said, not seeming to take her seriously.

“I mean it, though! You’re almost pretty,” she said with a firm nod. “I’ve always thought so. You have the bluest eyes… They’re so… Blue! And I love your hands. They feel nice too.”

“Uh huh…” he said with a smile. “I think we best get you home soon… Here, have some water.”

“I don’t want water, I want more wine,” she said, taking the water and drinking it. “But I do mean it. You’re very good looking. And you have a cute bum! I haven’t told you that, but I should. I should tell you these things! I mean to, but I wait too long, and then I can’t tell you. Like with your clothes tonight! You look extra dishy and I can’t tell you because I don’t want you to think I’m not nice about clothes to you, ya know?”

“Well in that case, thank you?” he said, pouring her some more water that she angrily sipped at. 

He’d taken off his jacket and rolled his sleeves up again at one point. She trailed a finger along a brain-scar on his forearm.  She liked that. There was something about it that made her squirm in a good way.

“I like your arms…  But to my point!!” she said, sitting up straight and poking him in the chest. “There’so much I can’t tell you! I’m the best secret keeper in the world. It’s like… It’s like my words are Fidelius charmed! And I don’t know how to tell you the secret! I want to, of course, but if I did and you didn’t say you love me back then I’d be so upset, and so I don’t say anything!”

She closed her eyes and leaned into his chest.

“You make it hard to not say things when you’re so pretty and good. You’re so good, Ron Weasley. I want to… I want to bottle you up and marry you and be the only one to touch your bum.”

His chuckle pleasantly hummed through her. He braced her against him a bit then kissed her forehead. 

“I want that too,” he said, almost so quietly it couldn’t be heard over the music. She felt him stir beneath her head and let out a huff. “What?”

She cracked open an eye to see Harry gormlessly staring at them.

“I’m so glad you didn’t die. You’re like… the most important people in my life and I love you both so much,” said Harry, pointing to somewhere a foot or so to the left of them.

“No more alcohol for you, Harry,” said Ron, making Hermione sit up. 

“I mean it!” Harry belligerently stated. 

“We love you too, Harry,” said Hermione, putting a hand on him. “You’re like a brother to me! If I had brothers. I don’t. But if I did, you’d be my little brother.”

“You’re like an older sister that I love like a sister. And we’re both not dead,” Harry said with a nod. 

“Merlin’s balls. We’ve got to get out of here,” Ron muttered, grabbing a glass of water and thrusting it into Harry’s hand. “Chug that and try not to be such a melancholy arsewipe, yeah?”

“I can’t help it. I had a bad childhood until I met you and Hagrid…” Harry said, looking so sad Hermione wanted to cry. 

“You did! Ron, he DID have a bad childhood!”

“Yep, I’m aware,” said Ron with a sigh getting up. “Harry, where’d you put your glasses and jacket?”

He gave a sad shrug. “I don’t have a family. I don’t even have glasses now.”

Hermione nodded. “He can’t SEE, Ron.”

“I’m legally blind.”

“He’s blind, Ron!”

“Oh my GOD! I’m going to find the glasses!” Ron exploded, a hand going to his hair. “I’m getting bloody tired of dealing with drunks, you know that?”

“But he’s blind, Ron.”

With a wild gesture of frustration he started looking around the various points in the bar Harry had been to. Harry murmured about a lot of sad things, and Hermione told him about Ron’s bum which made him snigger. She leaned her head against the back of the booth, closing her eyes for just a moment. 

She heard Charlie, Bill and Fleur bowed out for the evening, citing business they had to do the next day. Bill pulled Ron aside for a moment. She could just make out the low voiced words of ‘George,’ ‘rest’ and ‘bail’ beside her. She cracked open an eye and saw them both glancing at George, who was still bouncing on the dance floor with Lee and Angelina. Hermione listened to hear more, but the thrum of music drowned them out. 

Hermione woke up an indeterminate amount of time later lying in their booth, head curled up on a conjured pillow and Ron’s large jacket draped over her.

She blearily rose and blinked to see Harry finish a shot beside her.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be drinking anymore,” she managed to rasp even though her tongue stuck to the top of her mouth. She smacked her lips and looked for some water. The nearest pitcher seemed miles away even though it was a mere few feet.

“Y’were sleeping in the booth and there’s was noone to stop me,” said Harry with a triumphant smile that morphed into an unpleasant low belch.

“How long have I been asleep?” Her head was aching. She should have drunk more water.

“Mmm… An hour or so?”

“Where’s Ron?”

“He tucked you in,” Harry answered. She warmed at the thought of giant Ron hunching over to tenderly make her comfortable.

 Harry put his chin on his hand and stared at her. “He fancies you.”

“Well I quite fancy him as well.”

“You fancy him,” he said with a sloppy dismissive hand, “but not like he does you. He’s all…” A series of soft pats rained down on her head. “And you’re all…” He pointed a finger at her face, nearly poking her in the eye. “Ya know?”

“Oh well that makes sense,” she humored him. “Where are your glasses? Didn’t Ron go to fetch them ages ago?”

“Search me…” he said, putting his head on the table before slurring. “I need a nap…”

Ginny, Lee and Angelina came panting off the dancefloor.

“Where’s George?” asked Angelina, gulping down some water and making a loud noise of satisfaction when she’d finished.

“Wasn’t he with you?”

No one knew where George or Ron were. They were about to start searching when there was the sound of a mic turning on, and the DJ announced, “and now one of our guests wants to make an announcement.” 

There was a horrid feedback noise and a scuffle, but then a familiar voice began to ring through the crowd.

“Hello everyone!” said George into the mic. 

“Oh God, who let him have a microphone?” said Angelina, shaking her head.

“I’m George and I’m here to celebrate my little sister’s birthday! So everyone, say cheers to her!”

Many of the crowd raised their glasses and Ginny was happy to wave to them and give a small bow. Hermione spotted that she was wearing Harry’s glasses on top of her head. She turned to point this out to Harry but he was letting out a series of small snores.

“Also we’re here to celebrate my brother Ronnie, and his two best friends. I can’t tell you what they did, but they are being honored for their services and it’s pretty impressive shit, so cheers to them!” The crowd cheered again. “That’s right. He’s very impressive. Didn’t think he would be, but here we are! Didn’t think he’d make it out of a war alive, but he did. Not a fucking scratch on him, ‘cept some missing fingernails.”

Hermione looked for Ron, and found him standing to the side of the DJ booth. He looked like he was saying something, and George’s face went dark and surly. “No, I don’t feel like going home.”

“Get off the mic!” someone from the crowd hollered, and few people let out a resounding ‘woo’ in agreement.

“Yes, thank you for your support!” George said with a wave. “What was I talking about? Oh yes! The war! My other brothers all made it ok, but I lost an ear, and then my twin brother got fucking killed by a bloody wall. How stupid a way is that to go?”

The DJ tried to get George to hand over the mic, but he was belligerently holding it low and crowding the DJ out. Ron looked like he was saying something. He put a hand on George’s shoulder that was violently shrugged off, prompting Angelina and Lee to run over to intervene.

Hermione didn’t want to crowd them and was fairly certain she couldn’t get there fast enough to help anyways. Ginny had a hand to her mouth. 

“None of you know how much we sacrificed to keep you all safe, you know that? On the run all the time, nearly dying every day, and you lot just went about your lives having no fucking clue. People died. My brother is DEAD! And you’re all having a bloody good time, but he’s dead and everything is fucking ruined and—”

The thick-necked bouncer moved in and started pointing a beefy hand in George’s face.

“George, don’t!” came Ron’s holler, just barely picked up by the mic.

Hermione heard a chorus of yells beside her as, in front of the entire Muggle club, George whipped out his wand and brandished it at the bouncer.

“Take another step and I’ll drop you,” he snarled.

Hermione gave a yell of her own as Ron put up his hands and stood in front of George’s sparking wand.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 5 Author’s Note- 

Chapter 6 is already written and in the editing process.

I actually split Chapter 5 into two parts as it was epically long. So next chapter will be from Hermione's POV

oh, and it will have some smut

and angst

====================================================

Giant thank you to:

@abradystrix​ and @divagonzo​ for betaing and being so supportive and wonderful.

CHAPTER WARNINGS:

cursing, depresssed/anxious thinking, talk about eating & weight gain/loss, evidence of PTSD, drinking and drunkeness, threats

Previously, in 'Waking Up'

Hermione is on edge about her parents and is having trouble with anxiety in general- also worried about Ron not saying 'I love you' yet

Ron was exhausted from tending to George the night before- he's running on fumes- and is devastated that Hermione doesn't seem to care for Harry joining the Aurors- He fills out paperwork and gets sick with anxiety

Needs a quill and sees Hermione needs money for Australia

Goes to the village to get a job- gets lost in dark memories

Comes home to everyone giving cheers to him and the trio for Order of Merlins and Auror offers

They're all gonna go out to celebrate

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: fluffiest fluff ever, jealous amoreena, jealous spencer, the LaMontagne family is in this too !!

word count: 3.8K

from the beginning <3

He went to work with Y/N on Tuesday to fill out all the paperwork and officially become an employee at the D.C Public Library. He signed a contract, he was switched over to a different government healthcare, answering a million calls and emails all morning, he was officially not an FBI agent.

They had lunch together in the park, buying some sandwiches and walking across the street to a picnic table to talk about their days while they ate. He liked her co-workers, they all were shocked to find out she was “married” to him after being single the whole time she’s worked there.

They had plans to go get Amoreena from school a few minutes early, before heading to meet his mother, not telling her about the plans unless Diana had a bad day last minute and couldn’t see them. So far, according to the nurses, she was lucid and having a great day waiting for them.

“So about yesterday morning,” Y/N changed the subject, biting her lip like she was avoiding this.

“What about it?”

“Amoreena really wants us to have a wedding, I was thinking we could go up to New York for fathers day and have another fake wedding?” Y/N hypothesized her plan, hoping for Spencer’s approval.

He couldn’t help but smile, about to answer when he got an email on his phone. “I’d love to do that, it would be nice to go on a vacation with just as the three of us.”

“You can check that,” she said, noticing he looked at his phone as it buzzed.

It was an email. Not from anyone he knew, it wasn’t about work or healthcare, it wasn’t his mom or Penelope sending him funny things from the internet…

No, it was from Taylor Swift. He tried his best to calm his facial reactions and micro-expressions so she’d think it was just something work-related. An emailed contract, updated health forms, nothing too serious.

To: Spencer Reid From: Taylor Swift Subject: Amoreena

Hey Spencer!

Portia reached out and said that your wife and daughter are huge fans and you were interested in some summer tickets in Virginia… I was thinking if you guys ever found yourself in Rhode Island you’d all want to come to my place, my doors always open for friends 💛 Love Taylor xx

“What?” Y/n asked, trying to read over his shoulder as he turned the phone away.

“It’s a surprise,” he said, locking his phone and putting it in his pocket to reply to her later. “Have you ever thought about a beach wedding? Rhode Island is pretty nice in June.”

She tilted her head as she bit back a smile, wondering what he was planning, “Amoreena will have us reenact the little mermaid 2 instead of Enchanted then, just fyi, but yeah that sounds fun, we should get a beach house on Airbnb for the weekend.”

“Okay, let me handle it all, you don’t need to plan a single thing, just show up with a dress?” Spencer offered, knowing how scared weddings made her now.

She kissed his cheek softly, resting her chin on his shoulder as she leaned over on him, “nothing fancy or crazy okay?”

“Define crazy?” He teased her… she really had no idea what was coming.

To: Taylor Swift From: Spencer Reid Subject: RE: Amoreena

Thank you so much for the quick response and generous offer, we were thinking of having a small elopement in Rhode Island with just the three of us over Father’s Day weekend if that works for you? Seven is the song we danced to at our intimate personal wedding, however, Amoreena’s pretty sad she didn’t get to witness it, that’s why we’re having another one with her. (And hopefully you!) Thank you for making my girls so happy over all the years that I didn’t know them yet, you’re probably their favourite person in the world, even more so than me! It would mean everything to them to meet you or see you in any way, you’re incredibly kind for this.

Thanks again, Spencer Reid x

He tried his best to be as calm and nice as possible in his response, still managing to rant a little even in text format. It was just how he communicated, either not at all or all at once. He was so excited for Y/N and Amoreena.

“So you said your mom has a scrapbook,” Y/N changed the subject after Spencer spent 5 minutes in silence, turned away from her as he answered an email.

“She does, she’s going to show you a lot of photos of me today,” he smiled at the fact she remembered.

“I know you want to tell her about Amoreena alone before we come in, so I made her something for her scrapbook, it’s back on my desk drying,” Y/N was so precious as she got excited, that same giddiness he see’s in Amoreena bursting through her.

“Okay, let’s go see it,” he put his phone in his pocket and followed her back across the street towards the library.

On some beautiful floral scrapbook paper, Y/N glued an array of photos of Amoreena from the beginning all the way to the museum trip last week.

A photo of her first round of IVF, dated February 19th, 2013. Exactly 1 month after he donated, she must have chosen his sample as soon as it entered the system, even a photo of the sample jar reading “sample 2319”, A photo of her crying in the garden with her grandma when she found it she was pregnant, wrapped in a big coat and surrounded by snow. Her pregnancy announcement being a baby sock on a stuffed toy Sully from Monsters Inc, "new door opening November 2013!" Amoreena has been surrounded by references to books and movies since the beginning.

There was a photo from the moment Amoreena was born, crying and brand-new, resting on Y/N’s chest as she sobbed, more beautiful than he’s ever seen her before, completely in love with the child she made.

Amoreena Margery Y/L/N - November 13th, 2013, 9:53 pm 7lbs 12oz, 21 inches of perfection

“Her middle name is Margery?”

“Yeah,” she smiled back at his ever glowing face, wondering why it was so important to him. “Like Margery Kempe, my grandma’s favourite.”

“She’s my mom’s favourite too,” Spencer couldn’t help but laugh, it was such a strange turn of events. He saw so much of his mother in Amoreena just for her to have a middle name related to her.

Y/N couldn’t believe it, “I’m so excited to meet her!”

“I just hope she’s okay today, truly,” Spencer worried. “She is my best friend and a great mother, don’t get me wrong. But some of the things she did to me on her bad days were scary, and I never want Amoreena to experience that.”

Y/N pulled him into a hug, “it’s hereditary isn’t it?” He nodded against her shoulder as she tried to soothe all the impending anxiety out of his body. “I’m not going anywhere, she won't have to raise herself and care for you, that’ll never happen to her.”

She guessed, and she was right. Reading his mind like she’s already been in there and watched all his trauma, she knew all the right words and how exactly to push his feelings away. She was sunshine clearing his grey skies once more, about to cause a drought so he’d no longer rain on his own parade. Marching beside him, hand in hand into the future.

—

They waited at the gate of Amoreena’s school, none of the other parents were waiting yet, giving Y/N a chance to show Spencer around the yard and tell him about her school. “She’s in senior kindergarten, she has a November birthday so I opted to send her in when she was 6 instead of 5, giving me an extra year of home pre-school.”

“That’s why she’s so smart, not my genes,” Spencer smiled, walking around the edge of the gate with her hand still in his.

“They want her to jump right into grade 5 next year, I said no, she deserves a childhood with children she doesn’t have to compete with or see her as a threat,” Y/N voice was stern even in the recounting like she knew from experience. “Because she’ll be 8 in November she’s going into grade 2 instead, then she’ll be in the same age range and mental level, but all her friends she knows in grade 1 will be in the same recess yard as her.”

“I went from kindergarten to grade 4, then I jumped to grade 6 when I was 9 and I graduated high school at 13, it was terrible,” Spencer agreed, not knowing if he had a place in the decision but wanting her to know he agreed with it.

“Let’s go inside and get her,” Y/N smiled at him, understanding his meaning perfectly and dragging him into the school.

“Hello miss Ludlough,” Y/N beamed as she entered the main office with her arm tucked under Spencers, showing him off slightly.

“Y/N, good afternoon! Do you need me to call that little angel down early?” The secretary was a lovely older woman, wrinkled and happy as she smiled back.

“No, I just need to get some paperwork to put her dad in the files?” Y/N surprised Spencer with that and he almost stopped breathing.

“Really?” He whispered, capturing her attention as her eyes twinkled up at him.

“I’d like you on her emergency contacts, if they can’t get ahold of me I’d like you to be with her,” Y/N confirmed, patting his shoulder softly as Miss Ludlough handed her a few forms.

Spencer signed everywhere he needed to, handing them his licence to be photocopied into her file for proof when he picked her up in the future. He was glad to see there was a system, that they cared for his little girl and she wasn’t going to be going home with anyone who wasn’t in that file. And if she did he had no problem hunting them down and getting her back in whatever way he had to…

He shook the thought out of his head as it arises, reminding himself that that isn’t who he is now and she would be fine. They lived in a happy world where bad things didn’t happen.

Y/N’s hand rubbing his lower back helped, he stood straight again and pushed the papers over the desk, smiling as he officially became her father on 3 different sheets of paper. That was as real as it could get.

“Spence?” He heard an all to familiar voice from behind him.

Turning to see JJ and Will smiling with wide arms, waiting for his embrace. “What are you doing here?” She asked him, voice high as she was clearly shocked.

He walked into her arms and held her quickly, “I’m here with my wife,” breaking the news to her in the most casual way possible. “Picking up our kid.”

“Y/N?” Will noticed her then, “holy shit, you’re the wife?”

She nodded with a smile, hugging will quickly like she has known him for years, “how are you, cowboy?”

Spencer and JJ looked at each other incredibly confused, JJ clearly didn’t know her so how did Will?

“Will and I have been on what, 6 school trips together? Michael and Amoreena are buddies,” Y/N explained with a soft smile, “I knew Henry and Michaels's names sounded familiar…”

“Nini thinks I’m a cowboy,” Will laughed lightly, smiling at Y/N the way he did at JJ and something in Spencer almost snapped thinking about Will being the one person between him and the girl he liked, once again.

Only this time she was his wife and not the cute media liaison who had no interest in him until he came out of prison.

“She was very upset when she found out that Will was already married, she wanted us to be Woody and Jessie from toy story,” Y/N had no problem ranting about how their kids got along and how good of friends they had become over the last 2 years of school trips.

Y/N noticed the anxiety in Spencer’s eyes as he pulled away from JJ and made sure no one was touching him, “luckily, our little girl’s got the best daddy in the whole world now and all her dreams came true.”

“She sure does,” JJ agreed, “Hey, I gave your mom all those books you gave me for the boys, when you were away, so she had something to keep remembering you with, you should give them to Amoreena.”

“I will, we’re going to see her tonight,” he was able to push past the feelings and enjoy the moment of his friends meeting his wife, even if the title was just pretend.

“I’m so excited,” Y/N shook her hands the same way Amoreena did, stepping into Spencer's space and wrapping her arm around him. “Can we pick her up from the room Miss Ludlough?”

“Sure thing, do you want me to call down and say Mikey’s parents are here too?”

“Yes, please,” JJ smiled over the counter.

With the four of them walking down the hall together to get their kids, Spencer felt like he was sleepwalking. Too many emotions were running through his veins to feel real, but then Y/N took his hand in hers and rested her cheek against his arm as they walked and he was fine.

She tugged on his arm and waited in the hallway while JJ and Will entered the classroom first, “what’s wrong, she’ll know you’re upset?”

He sighs, shaking the stupidity out of his mind. “I had a huge crush on JJ before they got pregnant with Henry, and when I came back from prison she told me she had always loved me and it got weird for a bit and I’m still kinda mad when I see Will bond with the people I love.”

“I was wondering when you’d get possessive,” she teased him, “I’m yours and I wouldn’t have your ring on if I wasn’t, no matter how another man looks at me, I only love you.”

“I’m sorry, I know.”

“It’s okay, you’re not used to this are you?” She saw right through it. “Am I your first real girlfriend?”

“Kinda, Maeve and I never even really met until she was kidnapped,” he admits and it sounds so childish in his mind.

“Okay we’ll talk about this later cause that sounds like a good story I should know,” she tried to smile, standing on her tiptoes to peck his lips softly before smiling more. “Let’s go get your kid?”

“Let's,” his smile returned.

They turned the corner into the vibrant room, Amoreena was talking to Will when she noticed Spencer at the door, running towards him and almost pushing Will over to do so, “Dad!”

He picked her up and snuggled right into the crook of her little neck, giving her the biggest hug he’s ever given and not realizing just how much he missed her until she was back in his arms again. His baby, the littlest life he’s ever held this close to his heart.

When he put her down he noticed all the women’s eyes were on him, hands over their hearts at the pure display of affection between father and daughter. They all saw him as her dad, they had no reason not to, giving him all the attention he’s never received before.

“What are you doing here?” Her tiny voice asked as she beamed at him with wonder.

He kneeled in front of her to get on her eye level when Michael came running over, “Hi uncle Spencer!” He tackled him into a hug.

“Uncle Spencer?” Amoreena’s brow furrowed as she scowled at the boy taking her dad’s attention, she pulled Michael back by his shirt. “That’s my dad!”

“Amoreena, honey,” Spencer tried not to laugh, she was definitely his kid, “Michels mom, JJ, is my best friend from work and I’m his older brother Henry’s godfather, they’re your cousins.”

She looked at him like he was insane, “what’s a godfather?”

“If anything bad happens to his mommy or daddy and they can’t take care of them, they’ll come live with us,” it was the simplest answer, “I’m not their father, I’m yours.”

She nodded and hugged him again, sticking her tongue out at Michael in the process, “why are you here?” She repeated the question.

Y/N was standing over him with a hand on his shoulder then, “we’re taking you to meet your other grandma.”

Amoreena started to shake with excitement, moving her hands and grinding her teeth as she smiles, shrieking with excitement, “I have another grandma!?”

JJ was watching from the corner of the room, secretly filming it on her phone for the rest of the team to see Spencer with his baby. A sight many of them never thought they’d ever see as he slowly lost hope, losing himself somewhere along the way and no longer wanting to accept their help. This was a big moment for the team too, their little brother was finally happy.

—

In the car, Spencer sat with Amoreena in the back seat so he could tell her everything about her new grandma. Or as Amoreena wanted to call her, Princess Diana, “I can’t believe you’re actually royalty!”

They all laugh at how her fantastic little brain works, “you can’t tell anyone that Princess Diana is in DC okay? It’s a government secret!” Y/N teased from the driver's seat.

“I’m like Princess Mia!” She screamed at the top of her lungs and Spencer was astounded she could be that loud.

“Okay, okay, not that loud! we can't scare any of the people who live here. They like it to be calm and quiet so the patients can be happy,” Y/N settled her down, “Dad is going to go in and tell grandma all about us for a little while and then we’ll go meet her okay? He wants to make sure she’s happy today before we go in.”

With that, they were pulling into his mother's care facility and he felt like he was going to be sick with excitement. He used to visit his mother with the fear of rage and disappointment in her eyes, he was too proud to let his anxiety take that from him today.

He kissed her forehead before getting out, Y/N handed him the scrapbook pages through the window and he leaned inside to give her a kiss too. Receiving a disgusted groan from Amoreena, he pulled away and walked into the building while they found a place to park.

She was waiting for him in the garden, sitting at a picnic table with her scrapbook and gifts for Amoreena. “Spencer!”

“Hey mom,” he smiled as he hugged her, “how are you feeling?”

“Fantastic, where is this family you made?” She was so ready to meet them, truly there inside her mind and willing to learn more about this life he was making.

“Sit down first,” he said softly, taking a seat beside her at the table and placing the scrapbook page on the table. “This is my Amoreena.”

Her fingers glided over the words, “Margery,” she repeated her middle name with a smile. “She has a sperm donor for a father?”

“I’m a sperm donor, mom,” he smiled softly as he broke the news.

She turned to him with shock, “she’s yours?”

“We think so, so that’s what we’re telling people, she’s mine regardless.”

Diana wrapped him up in another hug, “I’m so happy for you Spencer. You always deserved a perfect family, I’m sorry I couldn’t do that for you. I hope your dreams come true with her.”

Just like that Amoreena and Y/N were rounding the corner and walking over towards their table. She had a huge smile on her face and a card in her hand, walking right up to Diana and handing it to her.

“Hi, grandma, I’m Amoreena,” she introduced herself politely before stretching her arms out for a hug.

Diana wrapped her up in the softest little hug, trying not to cry in front of her brand new granddaughter, which was fine because Spencer was the one crying. Turning away from them so Amoreena wouldn’t see as Y/N patted his arm with a smile.

They were fast friends, Y/N and Diana bonding over Margery Kempe and while Amoreena opened the two gifts Diana got for her, a simple colouring book and Spencer's original copy of Matilda from when he was a child. She sat down in the grass and read it while they all caught up, lost in her own little world.

It was the most perfect afternoon, just him and his family, happier than he’s ever dreamed he could be.

—

He checked his phone one last time before bed, Y/N was sitting against the headboard reading a book and so deep in the story, he knew she wouldn’t be able to read over his shoulder.

Scrolling through everything from the day to see that yes, there was a response from Taylor Swift. It felt insane, but he opened it and started to read her plans.

Spencer!! You’re so sweet, I’m sure you make them incredibly happy! I’d love to have you stay in the guest house here, and I’m ordained if you need someone to make it real and official ♥︎ let me know what I can do, I’d love to help in any way to make some fairytale dreams come true! Taylor xx

Smiling like an idiot, he closed his phone. He’d reply tomorrow, till then he was going to snuggle into his wife and appreciate their time together.

She lifted an arm to let him lay against her chest, “today she woke up and decided to be an explorer, the little girl with the wildest imagination stormed out of her home and towards the unknown part of her land. It was her destiny to travel across the bridge and unite the people beyond the field, towards the pond that was swallowed by willow trees,” Y/N read the grandmother's thoughts from the page.

“With her wooden sword, she sliced and diced on the ivy that surrounded the gate. Freeing the hinges and allowing the entrance to swing open, unlocking a new area of the world for her mind to wander.

“For what the regular human eye saw, Amoreena saw it times a million. Every colour and then some, new colours appearing in the morning glow as she stared at the dew on the leaves she just chopped through. She saw the world in a way that made everything exciting, there was never a bad thing, only good things with interesting quirks.

“She passed every mushroom and toadstool, every strange-looking tree and human-shaped moss ball, greeting them with a good morning as she strolled through the once-forbidden forest. Her adventure only beginning, the objective not yet known.”

“Your grandma could see the future,” Spencer whispered as she turned the page, “that’s our wonderful little girl’s mind in words.”

Y/N kissed the top of his head, “our wonderful little girl.” She repeated the words, loving the way they sounded on his tongue as much as he loved how she said it.

Taglist: @shemarmooresfedora @spookyspence @spencers-dria @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Four

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 4 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. All trigger warnings will be listed before the chapter. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: reference to past sexual assault (very minimal); misogyny/sexism; mention of Infinity War deaths/Endgame deaths; abusive parental relationship; canon violence; heavy drinking; reference to cocaine use

Word Count: 13,900+

~

Tony’s Cabin, 2023, 8:56pm

      “Uh…”

You and Steve stared at the little girl in front of you, bouncing up and down with excitement as she held up one of Tony’s repulsors, the safety on but pointed right at the two of you. Steve instinctively pushed you behind him, the obvious fact being that a blast would most certainly kill you and not the super soldier himself. You were having difficulty holding in your laughter, watching as the girl kept poking at the metal, awaiting its true power. 

“Can I have that, Morgan?” Steve asked, his voice raising ever so slightly to try and seem nicer to the kid. 

“Talk to her with your regular voice, Steve. She’s five, not a toddler.”

“Yeah!”

Now you laughed at Morgan’s declaration of approval, still standing behind Steve with your hands braced on his back. 

Steve sighed and rolled his eyes playfully, “Alright, Morgan. Can I please have that back? It’s not a toy.”

“But daddy left it for me!”

You smiled at her, “Yeah, but he didn’t expect you to use it so early! Wait until you’re like… ten, then you can look through his things!”

“Y/N, ten?” Steve gave you a bewildered grin, eyes bright and laughter restrained. 

“Okay, twelve.”

His shoulders sagged with a heavy laugh. He reached over and took the chance, grabbing Morgan’s wrist softly and ejecting the glove from her small hand. 

“There we go!” you cheered, stepping out from behind Steve and scooping her up in your arms. Morgan started laughing loudly, kicking her legs to try and escape your hold. “Ah, don’t kick me!”

You had offered your time to Pepper whenever she needed it. You didn’t expect that she would call so early asking for a huge favor, her husband’s funeral not even four months ago. But you didn’t hesitate and packed an overnight bag, reassuring her that nothing would explode on your watch. On your way out of the temporary safe house, Steve had caught you just in time. A quick question of your future whereabouts and he was joining you, a tiny twinge of guilt in his chest from not seeing Tony’s daughter in so long. He was one of her godparents after all, just after Happy and Rhodey, beating out the third crowned position from Bruce. 

He had been hurt by that initially, asking why he wasn’t even considered. 

‘Bruce, the first time she comes into your room and stands over your sleeping body to let you know she had a nightmare, you’d scream.’

‘I wouldn’t be angry, just scared!’

‘Okay, after Cap here, you get custody.’

‘Oh, yay. Drafted fourth.’

Steve was happy to go see her on such short notice though, racing back up to his room to gather some overnight supplies as well. But you didn’t think anything of it - it was just a godparent wanting to see his godchild. 

“Ouch, that hurt,” you laughed and placed Morgan down in her bed. “Nighty night time.”

“Daddy said he left things for everyone, not just me.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up with curiosity, a sudden interest to know what his gift was exciting him. He had already given him the shield back... but then Thanos broke it. Maybe, another shield? No, T’Challa had already offered to send him a new one.

“Ooo, that’s interesting! I wonder if he got me that pretty bracelet I saw in that department store window that one time,” you gushed, pulling the blankets over Morgan. You fluffed out her hair, smiled at her, and told her goodnight. 

“Night night!”

Both you and Steve called out from the doorway of her bedroom, “Night night!”

Several minutes had passed before you brought up the prospect of secret gifts again, knowing Steve was just as interested as you were. 

“Want to go find them?”

Steve immediately stood up, clapping his hands together and giddy with excitement. “I won’t tell if you don’t!”

“Deal.”

You searched everywhere - living room, the garage, kitchen cabinets - even racing into the master bedroom, stealthy and secret, shame rising as you carefully picked up items around the room. “This feels like an invasion of privacy.”

Steve chuckled from outside the door, “Hurry up!”

But you found nothing. There was only one more spot to look - his office. You almost didn’t want to intrude any longer, this being his most sacred space, but the mere chance of Tony giving you a gift from the afterlife made you extremely happy. So you and Steve searched, stacking and restacking random papers and pushing away gadgets and books in the bookshelf. Finally, a small opening in the third shelf alerted you of your mission success. 

“Oh, fuck yeah,” you cheered, reaching in and pulling boxes and clipped pieces of paper, all different colors and sizes, from the compartment. They were labeled with various names - Rhodey, Pepper, Happy, Clint, Thor, Steve, Nebula, you - and Natasha. 

Steve sucked in his breath, his gasp similar to yours. “He got these before…”

“Yeah,” you nodded, handing Steve his labeled box. It was light blue, a white ribbon delicately wrapped around it, and with a cute little red ribbon with Steve’s name on it. It wasn’t big, but it was more than enough. 

“Open it,” you said. 

Steve shook his head, “Let’s open ours together.”

You agreed to his terms, taking your folder into your hands. It was one of those same art folders you had when you bought some new planners or notebooks. It was black, custom-made it seemed, as it had your name on the front in gold, cursive writing. 

On the count of three, you both opened your presents. 

Steve pulled out two sets of dog tags from the box, the sound of them clinking together reminding him of the times he would hug his fellow soldiers on the battlefield, cheers of victory mixed in with the smell of sweat and dry blood. He read the names on the metal. 

‘Steven G. Rogers

987654320 T42 O

Brooklyn, NY. P.’

‘James B. Barnes. 

32557038 T41 42 O

R. Barnes

Shelbyville, IN. P.’

He had not known they recovered his dog tags, faintly remembering clutching them tightly as he flew the plane into the ice. But SHIELD must have kept them for the museum, and Tony had recovered them. Bucky’s, however, were lost as soon as Bucky fell from that train. They were more rusted than Steve’s, almost as if HYDRA kept them underwater or stored for the majority of Bucky’s sentence. But no matter how Tony had gotten them, he was eternally grateful. 

“Wow,” Steve said, clearing his throat. But you were too caught up in your reading. 

      ‘Target whereabouts discovered mid-May of 2017. Only T. Stark and N. Romanoff approved for mission.

      Transport at 20:00 hours. Target(s) confirmed and exterminated at exactly 0802 Pacific Standard Time.’

You choked on the sob that suddenly broke through, hand instantly reaching up to cup your mouth. Steve put his tags back into the box, shushing you to get you to calm down. “What is it? What’d he get you?”

Four pictures accompanied the short report, each face crossed out with red paint. A tiny laugh escaped and tears of joy started to flow. To say Steve was confused was an understatement. 

“He… he got me justice.”

Steve took the file from you, reading over every word to somehow understand what you meant by justice. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration and he looked up at you for more explanation.

You brushed your hair back and rubbed at your cheeks, the smile on your face now straining. Whether it was a sudden change of mind or the closure of your trauma was just that satisfying, you told Steve exactly what Tony and Natasha had done for you. 

“After I joined you guys in New York, Fury sent me on a mission to infiltrate and bring back information about this dude my father was trying to literally destroy. But I had to play both sides  - the good and the bad.”

Steve set the file down, his full attention on you.

“I got the information but for some reason, it wasn’t enough for my father. I had forgotten to get the most vital piece, something he thought I would automatically know,” you scoffed, your smile faltering at the next part of the story. 

“I cost him ten million. And to teach me a lesson, he let these men do whatever they wanted to me. Anything.”

Steve’s breath hitched as he understood what you meant. And it was no longer a mystery why you had been planning to kill him ‘again’ after everyone came back from the snap.

“I returned to the compound in such bad shape. I only told Natasha. She cleaned me up, she took me to med-bay in the middle of the night, she brought me breakfast in bed,” you chuckled at the memory, hand reaching out to hold Steve’s. 

“And Tony’s gift was murdering the men that hurt me.”

Steve let a few tears slip himself, his hand gripping yours tighter. “Y/N, if I would have known-”

“Hey, it’s okay. You didn’t know, though. I thought only Natasha knew. She promised me she would take care of it. I just didn’t think she would actually find them.”

“I think we know that Natasha could find literally anything and anyone,” Steve said. 

You agreed with his statement, a smile returning to your face. 

You jumped from your sitting position and went back to retrieve Natasha’s gift. “Hey, should we?”

Steve eyed the small, black box in your hand. He sighed as he walked over to you, eyes returning to the box. 

“It was meant for her.”

You frowned, “Yeah, and I’ll ask Pepper if we can give these to everyone else.”

You paused and shook the box near your ear. It felt heavy in your hand, and the contents gave a little jingle. 

“But this one was for Nat. I think she’d want us to at least see it.”

Steve chuckled and just nodded, awaiting the reveal. You pulled the ribbon and opened the box, surprised that Tony had given her a piece of jewelry. “Oh.”

Steve took the bracelet from the box, oblivious that the movement would unlock the charms from their heavy chests. In a matter of seconds, charms of similar size but different designs dropped to encircle the silver band. You inspected them in Steve’s hand - a red/white/and blue shield, Mjollnir, a pair of wings, two arc reactors, a singular arrow, a silver arm, a spider, an emerald heart, the letters ‘W’ and ‘V’ intertwined, a black cat, an ant - and your symbol, an intricately carved silver charm no bigger than your thumbnail, of your face. Tony knew no specific object or symbol was tied with your Avengers status, no one had ever given you one, but this was perfect. 

“Wow,” Steve whispered, examining each charm closely with a lazy smile on his face. 

“We were her family. This was an ode to that.”

“What do we do with it?” Steve asked.

You just shrugged, “Frame it? It would feel wrong just taking it for myself.”

Steve agreed. Later that night when Pepper returned home, you showed her what Morgan led you to. She let you keep your gifts and take the others, absolutely loving the idea of framing Natasha’s bracelet in the new compound being built. 

Present Day, 2025, 8:10 am

     The bright light from the open windows hadn’t hit you as suddenly as the random throw pillow that connected to your face, startling you with a quick gasp and causing you to choke on your spit. You snapped up, belly down and hair wild, eyes still half-lidded as you searched for the aggravator. And he stood there with a stupid grin on his face, already dressed in his stupid old man clothes, and stupid blond hair perfectly pushed back. 

“What the fuck was that for?” you tried to yell, voice cracking at the end and just the slightest hint of drool threatening to spill from the corner of your mouth. 

“I ordered room service. Plus, we have to leave in an hour.”

You grabbed as many pillows as your one free hand could hold, the other still tucked into the pillowcase below your head. You flung them wildly, none actually hitting the super soldier directly. His chuckle pulled a deep groan from you, and no longer wanting to look like a fool, you stumbled out of bed and pushed passed him roughly. 

“You could have woken me up the same time you got up.”

“But you looked so peaceful.”

His sarcasm was not helping your souring mood. Steve headed over to the monitors to turn them on, already setting up the morning video chat with Bucky and Sam. “Do you always sleep like a mounted spider?”

You flicked him off, “Leave me alone so I can take my morning piss in peace!”

You slammed the door and made your way to the toilet. Now, you were no morning person. But it was simple enough for you to crawl out of bed with only minimal protest when your awakening was a peaceful one. Having a pillow thrown at your head while mid-dream was practically excruciating and no one, not even the grandest morning person in the world, could possibly awake happy from that. And to top it all off, you couldn’t even remember what you were dreaming of. Just another thing to blame Steve for. 

After you had done your morning routine and slipped into a really comfy outfit, the breakfast finally arrived. You muttered a quiet thanks to Steve for ordering your favorites and damn him for knowing you preferred waffles over pancakes and a variety of creamers to choose from, and quickly filled Bucky and Sam in on what the plan for the day was. 

You had been on missions with Steve before, but no matter how many times you regrouped in the mornings, you had never actually seen him wake up. After your rude awakening, you wondered at what point during sunrise he opened his eyes - ‘cause you’ll be standing over him with a pillow of your own. 

“Torres has the air footage scheduled for around five today, then he’ll link you to the camera for the remainder of the mission,” Sam clarified. 

“Is it possible to link earlier?” Steve asked. 

“Not unless you can get the Wi-Fi password of the estate.”

You chuckled, still funneling mouthfuls of waffle into your mouth. “So, we can hack the Pentagon whenever we feel like it, but we can’t hack into my father’s estate without the Wi-Fi password?”

Sam cleared his throat, “You are so lucky this is a secure line.”

“Wait until she finishes her breakfast and her head will be screwed back on straight,” Steve joked, taking a long sip from his tea. 

Almost immediately, your phone dinged with a new message. You angled your phone away from Steve but your smirk was enough to alert him of a side conversation happening under his nose. 

Bucky: Ouch, I wouldn’t mind if you hit him upside the head.

Y/N: he threw a pillow at me to wake me up :(

Bucky: hit him

Y/N: bet

“Stop talking about me over the phone.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Steve grumbled, the rough sound catching Sam’s attention as well. His eyes flashed back and forth between the two of you - Steve desperately trying to catch a quick glance at your messages, and you leaning away from him with thumbs moving at a rapid pace. 

“Y/N, how you feeling?”

You put your phone down and pretended to not notice how Steve was trying to get a glimpse of your screen. 

“A little queasy, in all honesty.”

A myriad of emotions were present and coiling in your body, each trying to sprout and bloom and gain their five seconds of fame. And for the past several years, it was easy to downplay their true power. Because the power they held wasn’t one of distressing strength, but rather one that tip-toed to the front of your anxiety driven worries. It planted itself there, up front, but ever so silent. For it to finally meet its match, to possibly be freed of such a coil - well, you were more worried about not succeeding in its erasure than its final blooming. 

“We’ve come up with a system to make sure we both don’t go overboard or to tell the other that we’re alright,” Steve said, eyes on the monitor but hands loading bullets into your trusty handguns. 

“Alright, that’s good,” Bucky spoke, finally. He typed away on his keyboard, “Give us a word we all use in case we need back-up immediately.”

“Mm, you should ask Steve. He loves his safe words.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “Something Avengers related? Or something no one would ever say?”

“Pick anything you want, just don’t let it be awkward to repeat out loud,” Sam joked. 

Steve pondered for a few seconds before he settled on his chosen word, a hint of a smile forming. “Widow.”

You nodded, “That’s sweet. She’d like us using her alias for a dirty little safe word.”

You huffed suddenly, shoulder colliding with the carpet, the realization that Steve pushed you from your chair causing you to stare at him with your mouth hanging open. “Hey!”

“Steve, every single day I accept your fate from her murderous hands,” Bucky grumbled, Sam’s loud laugh causing the speaker to give a quick halt of static. 

“She’s okay- hey!”

You flew across your chair and onto him, lunging your body as your main weapon in taking him down. You both tumbled to the floor, the sofa chair you collided with scraping along and pushing the coffee table with it. A lamp shattered on the floor right when you wrapped your arm around Steve’s neck and hooked your legs from underneath him and around his waist, his back to your front, both his arms coming up to tug yours out of reflex. 

“Yield, you little shit,” you grunted, the grip of your arm remaining loose on purpose but your legs tight, heels now digging into his slim waist. 

Steve groaned, both from your pointy heels and the sudden impact his body made with the ground. “I’m letting you win.”

“You seriously got a mouth on you.”

You let him go anyway, choosing to save your strength for the mission and not waste it on a petty little fight. Besides, you could always smother him with a pillow in his sleep. 

“You two done?”

Both you and Steve stumbled getting up, faces back in your teammate’s view as you smoothed down your clothing and wiped at your foreheads.

“Now that that’s over,” Sam continued, clearing his throat. “The only task for today is to get a feel of the place, establish a legit backstory providing you some leverage, and to swipe those ID’s.”

“Got it,” you acknowledged, standing again to begin hooking your weapons in discreet locations in your clothing. 

“And we’re not responsible for that broken lamp so it’s coming out of your paycheck.”

     California really wasn’t like any other state. There was a vast difference from Northern and Southern, the difference being the amount of green fields visible. In Southern California, the mountains and desert areas took up most of the landscape, with an industrial complex here, a growing city there, and then nothing for a good ten miles. Since most of the landscape was below sea level, the atmosphere was almost always dry, modest dust storms forming only to quickly pass a freeway and disintegrate once it found the other side. It was more urban, more lively with people. But Northern California, even if it experienced the same weather patterns as the south, was mostly humid during the winter season. The mountains here were covered in lively agriculture, livestock roamed freely in the gated areas near the freeways, and the overall environment provided a rural look. 

 And the differences just stood out to you, your excitement for the livestock starting to annoy Steve as you kept pointing out every cow you drove past. He threatened to stop the car and dare you to tip one. 

“So, how did we meet?”

Steve chuckled, “We’re coworkers, Y/N. Thought that question was obvious.”

You whined, “Steve, we have to put some drama into it! How about we say we met during one of Tony’s parties after Fury assigned you to this?” 

“And what? I asked you to dance?”

You leaned over your seat and poked his arm, teasing him. “Would you have asked me to dance?”

Steve shrugged, “I mean, sure.” 

He glanced at you and then back to the road. “Can’t we just be honest? I like the way we met.”

 You pouted, “The way we met is a matter of national security.”

   “You brought that thing back to an unguarded planet?” Loki seethed, his voice still a whisper as he followed Thor through the hallways of Avengers Tower. A tower he had been prisoner of for a few weeks now, but would soon be released from once Thor decided to return home. Besides, it had been more than a year since his unfortunate attack and after thousands of apologies, brainwashing excuses (which were true!), and quite a few long labor hours equivalent to Midgardian community service, his leash was extended somewhat. 

“How am I the more level-headed one right now?”

Thor grumbled in response, now on his hands and knees as he searched for the tiny animal that had already eaten its way through the plush of the interior walls. “It couldn’t have gotten far. And how was I supposed to know the oxygen levels here would cause it to go crazy?”

“You couldn’t. In fact, I don’t know why it’s here in the first place!”

“Keep screaming, Loki. I bet that would make it come to us quicker!”

Loki was about to come up with another quick quip, but was interrupted by a quiet mumble down the hall. 

“Oh?”

You rocked back and forth on your heels as you stared at the two brothers - one sweeping the floor on all fours and the other ducked down to scream into his brother’s ear. “Whatcha looking for?”

“Now, don’t be alarmed, Agent. But I may have misplaced my dog.”

“Dog?” Loki tilted his head, hands now cupping the side of his head in disbelief. 

Your eyebrows shot up from his reaction, “Not dog?”

“It’s… an animal from Asgard.”

“Okay, what does it look like?” you asked, now more interested than ever. 

Thor cleared his throat and rose to his feet slowly, “Like a dragon.”

You stepped back, almost tripping over your left foot. An involuntary laugh escaped from your lips and you brought a hand up to try and stifle it. “You brought a dragon into the tower?”

“He brought a dragon back to Midgard,” Loki clarified as he walked over to the wall and pressed his ear against it. 

“Oh, yeah. That’s much worse,” you agreed. “Fury’s gonna shove his foot so far up your ass-”

“Yes, yes. I know what awaits me. Now, help us find it!” Thor begged. 

This wasn’t how you expected to spend your first day as an Avenger. After all the training and promoting, the paperwork and oaths, you thought you would have a pretty chill afternoon. Arrive at the conference room, get the name badge and a rundown of your new field suit, and meet the rest of the team. Freshly nineteen and energetic as ever, you accepted this as a test. Find the dragon, make a good impression. 

It only took a few more minutes before you three stumbled on an otherwise empty hallway, staring down the colorful creature as it licked one of its paws. 

Your eyes widened, “It looks like an alebrije.”

“You have these creatures on your planet?” Loki asked, surprise written over his face. 

“Nope, alebrije’s aren’t real. They’re fantasy.”

“Nevermind that, help me catch it!”

Loki began shushing his brother, hands swatting his massive shoulders in the process. You leaned down to the floor and tapped it with your fingernails, hoping the nice gesture would cause the creature to meet you halfway. 

“Hey, buddy,” you cooed. “Can you come here please?”

The creature raised its head, colorful eyes on full display. Similar to rings of fire, but face like a fox, and fur as soft as silk. It titled its head, interested for only a second, before it kicked back and rushed toward the three of you at full speed. 

“Oh, shit-!”

As he was the closest, Loki pushed Thor to the wall and lifted you from the ground. But before he could throw you out of the way too, the creature leaped. Loki shielded you with his body, wrapping his arms around you and picking you up as the creature kicked his back and sent the two of you flying through wall after wall. Loki was taking the force of it all, his chest angled in a way to protect your head. It was about ten walls you two flew through before you landed in what seemed like conference room B… or C… or A. Loki rolled you over and groaned in pain. You landed on your back, bright lights blinding you as you tried to adjust. Then a figure came into view as your blurry vision cleared. 

You blinked rapidly and stared up at your new Captain. You smiled, a bit delirious, and raised your hand up for a handshake. 

“Y/N Y/L/N, new recruit!”

Steve just stared, eyebrows scrunched, an expression resembling a scowl and bewilderment painted on his face. He took your hand in his and shook it. 

“Forgive us, Captain,” Loki spoke, coughing as he turned over. “But you might want to get that shield of yours.”

    “When did we become a couple?” you continued once you agreed on the ‘party meet-and-greet’ as your previous answer. 

Now, this was a question Steve was wondering about since before you mentioned the necessity of such answers. Although he didn’t fantasize about being your significant other, he did wonder what possible event could jumpstart it. If anything, and he would take this to the grave, he assumed a line would be crossed during a particularly tempting mission. Bucky had admitted to him that on one mission, and Steve promised to take this to the grave as well, Bucky had to kiss Wanda to keep their cover. The feelings subsided soon after the mission was over, but Bucky confessed to real feelings developing. So if Steve had to bet, a particularly tempting mission. 

“When we were searching for Bucky?”

You nodded, “That works. We can say the fall of SHIELD basically led to us to realize how weak the system was and how we could easily manipulate it.”

The road veered off to the side, now dirt and unevenly layered. You checked the directions Torres gave you just to make sure. 

“And when is my birthday?”

You didn’t expect Steve to answer so quickly, and to get it right. Perhaps he looked over your file and remembered, because you were certain only your little friend group knew it. It was Bucky, it had to be him, the little shit, he told- 

“Surprised?”

“A little. How do you know it?”

“Nat. Who do you think sends you those chocolates every year?”

You were overjoyed, really. “Wha-? Natasha said she did it.”

Steve smirked, “She covered for me.”

“Why?”

“Because for five years after the snap, you and Nat did nothing for yourselves and did everything for everyone else.” He had been witness to the two of you pulling all-nighters, washing the sheets of your fallen teammates as if they were going to return that weekend, celebrating their birthdays in secret with a small candle and a prayer. Moving from the compound and into his own apartment was hard enough, but seeing his remaining teammates wallow in cursed self-determination was worse. So, he asked Nat about your birthday to send you chocolates and a lovely handwritten note, careful to write in a font different from his natural one, and he would fold tiny paper airplanes and leave them around the compound where only Nat could find them, providing her a sense of playfulness in her busy day. Little joys to make up for such an impact.  

“If it makes you feel better, I sent gifts to Nat and Bruce, too.”

But because Bruce had no forwarding address at the time, Steve settled for quick text messages here and there. 

“And here I was thinking I was special.”

Steve laughed at your statement. He reached into the middle compartment to grab the mics you would be wearing. “By the way, make sure to hide this behind your neck. My mic will blend in as a button.”

You inspected the flat, button-like mic, awed by how intricate their design was. “They connected to Bucky’s?”

Steve clipped his onto his shoulder, the camouflage effect throwing you off. Yup, you loved science. “Yeah, they record everything and immediately send it back already transcribed.”

You unfolded the sun visor and watched how the mic picked up the color of your skin and blended naturally. “Remind me to send T’Challa and Shuri a gift basket.”

“And more.”

The estate was exactly how you remembered it. Modern and simple all at once, a brown exterior to easily blend into the surrounding forest, and massive front gate that only opened with a specific code. You leaned out the window and typed it in. There was no speaker this time, probably evidence of newly installed cameras. 

“It’s beautiful,” Steve muttered, pulling into the long driveway and following the brick road. 

It truly was. Even from where you were, you could see into the mansion as the walls were all practically made from glass. The walls in the back were normal, however, as that’s where most of the business was conducted. There were no swing doors, only large and heavy double doors made from cooled lava rock. And even though your father was a very organized man, the house was littered in trinkets of all origins: professionally stuffed exotic animals, roman and oriental statues, porcelain eggs, multiple pianos, and first editions of some of the most popular books in the world. There wasn’t any set theme for this house, but it was screaming ‘money’. 

Steve parked the car away from the others, careful to leave enough room around it to ensure an easy escape if needed.

“Remember what I said - play the part. Leave the smart mouth to me, they know me. It’s what they’ve come to expect.”

Steve clicked his seatbelt and sighed heavily, “I apologize in advance.”

You gave him a small smile, “Nothing to apologize for, Steve. Like I said, this is a mission. Don’t stress about it.”

He shook his head, “Still.”

The sincere look in his eyes sent a tingle down your arms. You cleared your throat, “I feel dirty saying this, but know your place. You may be a Captain but you’re not manning this boat.”

For some reason Steve felt that he truly needed to apologize in advance. For the past several years, it wasn’t entirely real to him. He had not been directly involved. But now that he was here, parked and staring at you - the one person who had a first hand account of the horrors inside - he needed to make sure you understood he would never actually hurt you, or you him. “I trust you.”

You removed your seatbelt and opened the door, “I trust you, too.”

It was windy today, the ruffles from the trees almost disguising the labor coming from the back. You assumed they were still building the reception area. Steve jogged over to your side and hooked your arm in his, his body tenser than yours. Someone opened the heavy doors, immediately swallowing the oxygen for miles with merely their presence. You couldn’t help yourself from a small grimace, lips spreading into a straight line as you forced any other expression besides hatred. 

Seda, standing at barely six foot and a smug look plastered on his aging face that worried even Steve. This was the man that had shot you when he was on the run - the man that would most likely do it again. 

Seda quickly stepped down the stairs, “Y/N, so lovely to see you again!”

You let go of Steve to walk ahead, arms extended to match the idea of a grand entrance. “Really? Because the last time we saw each other, you shot me in the gut.”

Steve swore he saw Seda’s upper lip twitch. “You hold too many grudges. I was just following your father’s orders.”

You rolled your eyes and finally came to a stop in front of him, arms crossed over your chest. “Obviously.”

“And I’ve finally got the chance to meet Captain America! You’re much larger in person.”

No matter the acting skills one must obtain for this line of work, it was still obvious Seda was speaking through clenched teeth. He scanned Steve up and down, somewhat intimidated.

It was such a sudden shift, one you obviously knew was coming, but the deepness of Steve’s voice still caused unnatural goosebumps to rise. “I get that a lot. Helps in this business, though.”

Seda let out a low chuckle, “I would think so.” He turned and instructed the two men who had followed him out to reopen the heavy doors.  “This way.”

Steve tried not to gawk at the amount of decorations and old-timey artifacts he swore should belong in a museum. So much furniture, so much history that shouldn’t mix but somehow worked. And was that… was that a stuffed polar bear?

“So, how you doing, Seda? Besides the usual,” you asked, hooking your arm back with Steve’s. 

Seda walked with his head held high, only tilting his head downward when giving a silent greeting to those who walked by. You tried to memorize faces or see if there was anyone you recognized. But your father barely kept the same team for more than a few years. They either left voluntarily and luckily, or were simply never heard from again. 

“Excited for the wedding. Jackeline has been running around nonstop on her finishing touches,” Seda responded. 

You huffed out a laugh, “I bet she has. She used to have a scrapbook that outlined six different wedding themes.”

“And I haven’t seen the end of it.”

Only a few more twists and turns and you were finally near the familiar hallway that housed your father’s darkest work. The interior design was purposeful, no windows and no cameras. Steve unhooked your arms, opting for a more formal presentation between the two of you. Seda was difficult to please, but your father was near impossible. Better to not have his hands all over his daughter during their first meeting.  

“Hey, what’s the wi-fi password? I’m expecting a few important emails today,” you asked before Seda opened your father’s office door. Steve had to restrain himself from blessing the ground you walked on. Bless you for remembering. 

“‘Guadalajara’.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, sending the password to Torres as quickly as you could. 

It wasn’t the grand entrance you expected, truly, but you didn’t expect to see your father simply chilling behind his desk signing a few papers. He usually paced, was in a random meeting, or on the phone. Here, he was just… strangely normal. 

He looked up, eyes locking with yours for the first time in seven years. “Now, I haven’t seen you since your little weekend trip to Jalisco!”

Yeah, since you had me shot. 

Stepping into the office, the smell of cigars was heavy. Musty and daring, enveloping you like the times it did before. But now you had Steve - sweet Steve whose warmth you could feel behind you. 

You shrugged, “I’m not traveling much outside the country these days. Too much shit going on.”

Your father stood up and let out a dry laugh, “No lie about that. Seda was telling me how loose the borders were when half the world croaked.”

“Emigration was common, yup.”

He smiled at you, walking over and placing his hands on your shoulders. You did your best not to tense your muscles. “I wish I could have been there. You guys made millions those five years.”

You swore you heard Seda scoff near the corner of the room. 

“It’s about time we met! Ernesto Vega,” your father introduced himself, holding out his hand for Steve to take. 

It was instant, the change, and you found yourself pushed softly to the side as Steve stepped forward. “Steve Rogers, sir. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Your father was practically beaming, “Y/N isn’t giving you a hard time with all the business, aye?”

Steve chuckled, “None at all. She steps back when asked.”

Okay, maybe he was a better actor than you took him for. 

“I can’t believe you even have to ask,” your father hummed, glancing back at you with a disapproving look. 

Steve shrugged, “More like ‘ordered.’”

It was scary how easily Steve was making your father laugh. “So, she listens to you? I wonder what that’s like.”

You interrupted, scoffing quietly. “I have literally done everything you’ve asked.”

And without glancing at you this time, your father quipped. “Everything but learn how not to complain.” 

You rolled your eyes and met Seda’s stare. He always enjoyed the torment your father caused you. When he ordered you do something sketchy and you objected, Seda always had a front row seat to the slaps and harsh language spit in your face. He had a way of bringing up the abuse in almost every conversation he held with you - like it gave him some form of sick satisfaction.

“Regardless of my daughter’s inability to listen, I was still surprised when she named you as her partner.”

“The whole hero game was getting boring. I needed excitement.”

Your father agreed, “Don’t we all?” 

Before he continued, he squinted his eyes at Steve and scanned him once more. Almost like he was double checking his initial choice. 

“And you’re fine with breaking the laws of the country you’re the mascot for?”

“America has changed over the last hundred years. Trust me, I should know.”

Steve was answering exactly how you two practiced. You couldn’t help the small tinge of pride that it ignited. 

“Oh, I can’t believe you’re older than me. I mean, look at you.”

“The positives and negatives of being America’s science experiment, sir.”

“But here you are now. Working for me.” Your father stepped back to sit behind his desk again. “I’m very happy.”

“Likewise, sir,” Steve replied as he shuffled closer to you, trying to not seem so suspicious. Last time Steve wanted to crawl out of his own skin was when he was barely being introduced to the new world. Times Square really was a concrete jungle, his and Bucky’s old apartment building had been demolished in the fifties, and inflation… don’t get him started on inflation.  

“I’d like you to meet my two friends.” Your eyes widened. No, you weren’t supposed to meet them today. You hadn’t planned for this. 

“Friends and competition alike.”

You tried to keep your voice steady, “Shouldn’t you warm them up before you invite them in? They’re gonna take one look at Steve and freak.”

Your father motioned for Seda to open the door. “Then prepare your speech quickly.”

Before you or Steve could come up with a game plan, your father called out to the new arrivals. “Amigos! Me gustaría presentarles al hombre detrás de toda mi operación.”

The men summoned were completely different from the last time you saw them. Given you saw Ramirez long before the snap and White even before then, change was destined. Ramirez was skinnier, no more protruding stomach, wrinkles almost nonexistent and eyes lively. He hadn’t disappeared with half the world, but one of his daughters did - so getting her back definitely helped his overall health. White, on the other hand, aged overnight. His hair was now gray, eyelids sullen but eyes wide, and his nose was tilted awkwardly, like a surgery to counteract the powder he sniffed. You couldn’t remember if he was dusted or not.

“Tienes que agradecer a mi hija por esto.”

He did not just give you credit for this. 

“No fucking way?” Ramirez spoke, almost like he was out of breath. 

Curse your father for not preparing these two. You quickly reminded yourself where your gun was hidden in case things got out of hand. 

White stepped forward, circling you and Steve as if you were displayed in a museum. “Do we each get our own Avenger?”

“Maybe in the future. But this one’s mine.”

“I’m an Avenger, too. But okay,” you mumbled, offended by his singular statement. Steve’s lip twitched slightly but the look he threw at you let you know he wanted to smile. 

“¿Cómo lo hiciste?”

“Ya sabes cómo es... La gente simplemente sigue mi ejemplo.”

You decided to speak, anything to get White to stop inspecting you like some ancient artifact. “Steve green lights the routes and passages. He’s been a main player all along.”

White squinted at you, “And how long has this been going on?”

“For almost ten years,” you answered. 

White shook his head in surprise, eyes wider than you thought possible. His accent was more slurred than you remembered. “And you’re telling us now because-?”

Your father cut in, “The world is still in ruins. If we combine our forces like we discussed before that unfortunate disappearing act, we’ll be unstoppable.”

This seemed to catch Ramirez off guard, as if he truly didn’t remember the conversation your father brought up. You shoveled his reaction deep into your memory. Maribel would have to look into it.

Still, Ramirez played along. “And you’ll be loyal to us, too? Not just Ernesto?”

Steve nodded, his posture straightening. “I would.”

Now, the two new arrivals looked at you. You raised an eyebrow. 

“Don’t look at me. I do what he says,” you admitted, nodding your head toward Steve.

They seemed to accept that answer. 

“And he’s here to help us move the shipment this Saturday?” White asked.

“That’s the plan,” your father confirmed.

It was time for Ramirez to circle you both. But he did so more casually and without the intent of kicking you in the shins, it seemed. He went to sit on the couch nearest the door, away from the crowd. You could sense Steve tensing up, so you turned your body slightly to the side so you could see Ramirez through your peripheral.

“How do we know we can trust him? What those stars and stripes have to do with us?”

“You hear that Captain?” your father asked, leaning back in his chair with that twisted smile that always made your stomach drop. “Time to prove your loyalty.”

“Are you seriously going to haze him?” you spoke, a hint of a teasing tone on your words. It was time to liven up the conversation, for both your sake, or else your father was sure to go overboard. His hand… where’s Steve’s hand?

“Does she speak for you?”

Steve stepped forward, “No, she doesn’t.”

“Prove it.”

You should really punch your chest to get your heart beating again. Was he going to make Steve try the product? Record something as blackmail? Kill someone?

“Wha-” you began, but were immediately silenced as an arm wrapped around your neck and held you in place. The coldness of the gun’s muzzle tickled just below your chin, still and steady, but nonetheless terrifying. Your father had held you in this position before - hell, most of his men did when asked. But it wasn’t any of your father’s men threatening you under orders - it was Steve.  

“Obviously, I’m not going to kill her. You need her for this whole operation to work. But a little roughing up never did any bad.”

He removed his other arm but kept the muzzle under your chin, grabbing both your arms skillfully and pinning them behind your back. 

You had never seen your father so pleased. “Why are you dating my daughter?”

Steve chuckled and clicked the safety. No, no. 

You scrambled to open your right palm and squeeze what you could reach. Steve seemed to understand right away, and he loosened his grip and placed his other shaking hand into yours. You squeezed tightly. 

“Now, that’s like asking a man why he breathes air.”

No matter the position he currently had you in, you still praised his acting skills. 

“Perhaps. But I know my daughter. Why you?”

Steve kept a firm grip. “Luck?”

“It seems so. Let her go.”

He released you immediately, clicking the safety back on. Seda was in front of him before Steve could place it back on his person, grabbing the gun and emptying it. Seven rounds tumbled and scattered to the floor. This seemed to please both men, as Steve wasn’t presenting himself with an empty threat. He really could have killed you. 

“I’m assuming Y/N has told you stories about me. About my men.”

The floor beneath you was uneven, it seemed, but once your mind stopped playing tricks on you, you settled. You shot a quick glance to Ramirez, his eyes closed and hands clasped in his lap. He seemed distant.

“Only the ones worth repeating, sir.”

“Oh? And which are those?”

“Orders and the like.”

“So, you don’t know much? Nothing interesting? Nothing that could make me seem like the bad guy?”

The room grew hot, whether it was the natural air or the bubbling anger boiling in your stomach.

“Like I said, sir. I ask her what I want to know and she tells me. Other than that, it’s your call.”

The room fell silent as they debated their other questions. 

“How much do the other Avengers know?”

You were about to respond when Steve spoke instead. “Oblivious. I’m still the stars and stripes for them.”

White scoffed, “Those symbols don’t mean shit in this new world. Ridiculous of them to still assume you’re the same man.”

Steve’s jaw tensed, “Exactly right, sir.”

This seemed to be enough for your father. He stood from his chair, walking over to shake Steve’s hand again. So righteous and personal, almost like he hadn’t just ordered the assassination of an old friend a few days ago. “I like you, Captain. You’ve boosted my business, you’ve handled my daughter, you’ve made me a lot of money.” 

He looked away from Steve to look at you now, laying eyes upon a person he hadn’t bothered to reunite with in person. You had fought so hard not to be in the same room ever again, but now you were. A small little office, holding whatever air you were forced to share, on a mission that could change everything. You hated him, absolutely detested the ground he stood on, blamed him for the fallout, the change, the hurt. 

“Seda, you trust him?”

Seda opened the office door and started ushering the other two men out. “I’m getting there.”

Your father laughed, “Always so cynical.” 

Ramirez stood from his seat behind you, already gunning to make a good impression on your Captain. He shook Steve’s hand, “Until next time.”

“Sir,” Steve returned the handshake. Ramirez only adjusted slightly, and held his hand out to you. You looked down at it, momentarily stunned from any attention, but shook it in the way you were taught. Firm, short, and ready for business. You grinned at him and he returned the same emotion. 

“Two Avengers. Wow,” he mumbled, and tilted his head in a farewell. You watched him go, a silly smile on your face. 

You went to take your leave, cautious of being left alone with your father. But as fate had it, he stopped you from leaving so simply. 

“Oh, and Y/N?” 

You turned on your heel, lips plastered in a straight line. You raised your eyebrows at him, already annoyed from the request he most certainly had, no doubt. “Meet me in a few minutes. Alone.”

You forced yourself to nod, turning quickly and leaving the room. You shuffled down the hallway, Steve hot on your trail and reaching for your hand. 

“Hey, hey. I don’t want to leave you alone.”

He tugged you back to him, but you pushed him into the corner room you were originally heading for. You shut the door softly, and allowed Steve to grip your hands in his. 

“Well, you gotta. Link our mics. You’ll hear everything.”

“Safe word?”

You chuckled lowly but retracted the teasing attitude when you saw genuine worry written on Steve’s face. “Widow, Steve.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you back there. I couldn’t think of anything else to do-”

You shushed him, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s okay. You didn’t hurt me.”

“I fuck with you all the time but I would never take it that far.”

Where was this coming from? Steve looked like he was about to start hyperventilating. “I’m good. You didn’t hurt me. I’m fine, see?” you placed his hand on your chest, making sure he could feel your heartbeat. “I’m good.”

“You’re good?”

“I’m good.”

Steve removed his hand and placed it over his own chest, rubbing slightly. “I’ll be right outside when he talks to you.”

“I know you’ll be. Now, stand guard, whistle low to alert me.”

“This the room? You know the code?”

It was a simple office as well, but resembled more of a library than a workspace. It was dimly lit, cluttered, smelled of the wooden cabinets and the dust collecting on the books, and lacked any windows as well. You nodded to confirm Steve’s question, heading over to the farthest bookshelf and pushed it away from the wall. The loose dust swooped from the wood surface and into the air instantly, and you had to pause to sneeze down your shirt. 

You wiped your nose, “I’m third in command. My father may have some things hidden but I have to know the codes to shit like this.”

Steve leaned his ear on the door gently, “You’re clear.”

You gave him a thumbs up and fiddled with the outside of the safe. It was built into the wall, black in color and definitely made way before you were born. It was quite rusted, the gold numbers on the lock almost faded. 

“Let’s hope he didn’t change it.” You turned the dial - seven, thirty-three, eighteen - and it clicked on the first try. “Bingo.”

“Did you have a backup plan if that didn’t work?”

You snorted quietly, “Smash?”

Steve rolled his eyes and pressed his ear back on the door. 

Everything inside had been recently rearranged. You figured your father used some of these ID’s when entering the country for the wedding and left them stacked on one another for the quick heist on Saturday.  “We’re in luck! Both my father’s and Seda’s ID’s are here, along with-”

You cooed, taking out your phone and opening the camera app. You snapped multiple pictures, with and without flash. “Stacks and stacks of cash.”

You pulled your purse in front of you and pulled out your wallet to make room, shoving it into your back pocket instead. 

“Help me put this in my purse.”

Steve left his post to help you shovel the ID’s discreetly into every pocket your purse provided, shoving things into corners so nothing protruded. 

“Damn, we gotta leave the money,” you pouted. 

Steve chuckled, “What a horrible thing.”

A sudden, boisterous laugh right outside the door caused you to rip your arm away from the safe, thankfully pulling the last of the ID’s with you. You pushed them into your purse, zipping it up. Steve reacted quickly as well, shutting the safe and rotating the dial, pushing the bookcase back into its original position. 

“It’s Ramirez and White,” Steve whispered, looking around the room for any help. “What do we do?”

“Ramirez…” you blinked, eyes wandering around the room as well. Think, think, think. The doorknob jiggled. “Trust me.”

You ripped your purse off and threw it to the nearest couch. You hooked your arms around Steve’s neck and jumped to wrap your legs around his waist. 

“Oh my-”

In any other scenario, the whimper that left your throat would have been caused by a surge of ecstasy. But you were frightened of being caught, the whimper a blatant signal to just follow your lead. 

“Slam me into the wall, Captain.”

The door flew open just as Steve did as he was told. 

“And I told him it was ridiculous - oh my…”

You lifted your head from Steve’s neck, wide eyes to accompany your surprised state. “Oh! I thought we locked the door!”

Ramirez covered his eyes bashfully, turning around and staring at the wall. “Don’t mind us, we were just looking for loose smokes.”

Opposite to his intruding partner, White laughed at the scene before him. He dipped low, hands on his knees as he joked. “Didn’t think Captain America had it in him! Been a stiff ever since the ice, huh mate?”

You could feel Steve tense against you, and he froze entirely. You drew your hand up to play with the strands of his hair, putting on your best flirty tone possible. “Oh, trust me. He’s pretty stiff right now.”

Steve seemed to calm under your touch, so he turned his head over his shoulder and gave an embarrassed smile of his own. 

“Excuse us again, Y/N. You two enjoy your time,” Ramirez apologized, pulling at White’s jacket to guide him out of the room. Once you heard the click of the door, you jumped from Steve’s grasp and immediately began patting his back. 

“I’m sorry.”

Steve chuckled, his blush rising from his shoulders to his cheeks. “It’s okay, you saved us.”

You inspected him closely, a little embarrassed with yourself. It was a bold move, but one that needed to be done. You stood in silence for a few more seconds, each of you adjusting to such a sudden change of breathing pattern. 

You shut your eyes and groaned silently, “I need to speak with him.”

“Can I wait outside the door?”

You picked up your purse and swung it around your torso, “No, you need to wait in the car. Or smother Ramirez and White, your call.”

The lines on Steve’s forehead deepened, “Y/N, I can’t leave you alone with him.”

You wanted to argue further because Steve really over exaggerated. You fought a whole army of aliens, robots, and even the infamous Winter Soldier. Sure, you lost the battle with Thanos on the first try, you lost a teammate with Ultron, and gained a collapsed lung from Bucky’s insane roundhouse kick, but you were positive you could take your father. “You’re gonna have to. I’ve been alone with him before.”

Steve placed his hands on his hips and gave you a blank stare. “He shot you last time.”

“Ehh, Seda did.”

“Y/N.”

You laughed softly, “Then wait in the living room.”

“The shield’s in the car. If you need help, I may not have enough time-”

Steve and that goddamn shield. The guy was acting like he wasn’t a super soldier. You were annoyed. Annoyed with a pinch of salt?

“You whip that shield out to save me and I swear to god-”

“Okay, okay. I’ll link our mics.”

He fumbled around on his phone for a few seconds before you heard the softest beep from below your ear. 

     The last time you had entered that room alone, you left with a bullet lodged deep in your abdomen and with the threat of having it done again. Stumbling and crashing into the walls and random trinkets, leaving your blood stains on anything you used to steady yourself. This time would be different - it had to be. Your father wouldn’t shoot you with the Captain America waiting in the other room. Then again, your father always seemed to top himself each time you were forced to interact personally. In an instant, he dropped the good guy act. Or, hyped joy. 

Now, his stare was cold and calculated, posture upright like he was awaiting your arrival. You couldn’t help but smile and roll your eyes, a tiny scoff breaking the silence as he returned it. 

“You’re one damn good actor.” 

He chuckled deeply, “We do what we have to do in front of the people who threaten our reign.” 

You kicked the leg of a nearby chair to turn it toward you. Sitting down, you retorted with a chuckle of your own. “You’re not royalty.” 

“We are... you are.”

Third in command. Daughter of the biggest drug lord south of the border? In most cases, you could be considered goddamn royalty. Did you want to be? No, because the title that seemed to fit was ‘a chess piece in the middle of a mad supremacy’. But that was too long.  

“So, what is this? You scared my Captain is gonna knock you off your feet and take your place?” 

His hands slammed the desk. His little basket of pens and pencils toppled over and spilled onto the floor. “I have waited seven, long years for you to bring that man to me. And each time you defied me. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now!” 

You remained seated, a blank stare boring into your father’s. “Uh, probably because he would avenge me. Get it?” 

He wasn’t one for jokes, though. “It would be so easy.” 

Aggravating him further was not the smartest thing to do. And Steve had the same thought as he fumbled with his own thumbs outside, hearing the conversation from afar. He almost wanted to barge in just to put your ass in time out. 

But you had seven years to make up for - a little joke here and there shouldn’t hurt much. 

“You do know I’m an Avenger, right? Trained by Natalia Romanoff herself?” 

You worded your sentence carefully, her alias need not be spoken out loud unless you needed backup. 

“Answer me.”

When his nostrils flared, you knew better than to twist the knife. 

“Steve didn’t sign the accords. He was on the run for two years before you asked me for him. This is public knowledge.”

He pointed his index finger at you, shaking it wildly. “You lie. Why you lie?”

You had to blink multiple times through your shocked state, mouth agape and involuntarily racks of laughter spilling. He couldn’t be serious. You could only repeat the same thing so many times. 

“Like I said all those years ago - He. Was. On. The. Run. No contact. I had no way of contacting him!”

He struggled to grab whatever on his desk to raise toward your face. In this case, he pointed his phone in a threatening manner. “Excuses! Remember the last time you made such a poor excuse?”

The laughing stopped, your mouth immediately shutting. You clenched your jaw to work through your murderous impulses. 

You wondered how your hands would look wrapped around his neck. Red and angry, tightening as each desperate second passes, nails forming crescents as they pressed in his skin. If there was a window, you would definitely kick him out of it. Wave goodbye as he fell dramatically. But the mansion was one story high and you couldn’t magically conjure up a window. God, this would be the absolute best time to have Wanda or Loki here to use some of that dark magic. Either way, you just wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face right now. 

“He. Was on. The run.”

“And I thought you learned your lesson.”

You stood from your seat and leaned on the desk, arms holding you up and face inches away from his. “You gonna send in your men to remind me? With my Captain a few feet away?”

His lips were trembling as much as yours were - face blotchy with silver droplets of sweat and an angry blush now reaching his forehead. For a seventy-five year old man, he still had such a rage in him that didn’t risk a heart attack. Lucky bastard. 

“He best not interfere if it’s what I choose to do.”

Outside, Steve gripped the back door handle to the point it squished in on itself, metal twisting awkwardly and splintering the paint. His free hand was balled into the meanest fist, even his stubby nails wreaking havoc on his pale palm. He was making himself bleed by the restraint. He took slow breaths, eyes closed but ears fully alert. He wouldn’t cry. Not right now. 

“I called you back alone to invite you to breakfast the day after tomorrow.”

Whether it was because he knew you were only a few seconds from lunging yourself across his desk to break his neck or because he was tired from all the energy he had just exerted, your father slumped back into his seat as he spoke. 

“The hotel has free breakfast.”

He shook his head in complete astonishment, “You’re not getting out of this. I have important business to discuss with each of you.”

You continued to stare him down, “Over coffee?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “I can’t leave the estate so close to the wedding. Your sister is flying in tomorrow and I have to make sure construction is done by then.”

“Right, ‘cause you’re the best father in the world.”

Being in the same room was suffocating, but you couldn’t help but be fascinated by the man. How unbelievably thoughtless yet calculated he could be. How unbelievably fake yet so damn real in all his hidden meanings.

“Jackeline likes to think so.”

Your sister was sweet, sure, and there was an unspoken agreement between the two of you to not fight one another, being the only daughters and all. But you were eight years old when she was born, already tainted by the world in which she was just born into. Forgive your lack of sisterly bond. When you were sixteen, you dipped. Now, at the sprouting ages of twenty-six and eighteen, you two couldn’t be more different. 

Actually, yes you could. If she thought your father was a good man, she was entirely ignorant of the world she lives in. 

“Good for her. Why don’t we discuss the shipment transport during the most important day of her life?”

“Nice try. That’s what the rehearsal dinner is for - rehearsal.” 

You gave your father a sad smile, “You really won’t trust me. After all these years of following your orders.”

“Now, let’s not go bringing up the past.”

You interrupted, “Why not? You’re trusting my Captain and I to help you move that shipment but won’t trust me enough to tell me where it is right now?” 

He was back to standing but he was much calmer. “Right now, I trust your Captain more than you. What kind of man would leave everything moral behind for a bunch of criminals? A bad one.”

“You’ve known him for like, two seconds.”

Your father searched his pockets for loose cigarettes. “He left everything moral behind for me. For you. And you left me behind for everything moral.”

Rolling your eyes, you backed away from his desk and headed for the door. “Sometimes you don’t make any sense. Is that it? Are we done?”

“You accept my invitation?”

“Do I really have a choice?”

“No.” 

     The mansion seemed larger than when you entered, the hallways longer, the walls closing in, the trinkets reaching out to stop you by the wrist. The longer you stayed in this hell hole, the more likely you were probably going to unleash the rage attached to your body in the form of your favorite weapons. Bomb the hell out of this place. 

You marched to Steve’s car. He was already waiting, leaning along the passenger door like he was going to open it for you. If he did, you might kill him too. So, you repeatedly snapped your fingers at him and pointed around the car, silently but angrily motioning him to get in. He didn’t need to be told twice. In fact, he thought it might be therapeutic for you to throw the door open and slam it yourself. It was. 

Steve started the car. He didn’t need to ask, there was no reason to since he heard everything. And so did Sam. Bucky. Scott. It was being transcribed as you swerved out of the estate. God, you wanted to throw up. 

“I’ll tell you when to stop.” 

Steve choked on his breath, “Stop?” 

You rolled down the windows to breathe in the crisp cold air, teeth becoming sensitive as it passed into your lungs. “Once we get past the cameras and nearby neighborhoods.” 

“Did you need-“ 

“When I say stop, stop. Fucking damn, Steve! Listen to me for once!”

Steve didn’t know why he was challenging you. Your father had just brought up one of the most traumatic moments of your life, basically called you a hypocrite and a coward - he tried to tear you down. And here you were, holding it all together like the champ he found you to be. But he never handled your outbursts well, even if they were completely justified. 

“Don’t fucking give me orders if you won’t tell me what they’re for!”

“Stop the fucking car!”

He slammed on the breaks, instincts still kicking in during your argument and he reached his arm out to your side to hold you back from the powerful surge. His body lunged forward, however, chest hitting the steering wheel and horn. 

You scrambled out of the car and ran into the woods, feet guiding you through mud and prickly bushes until they reached a more secluded spot. Steve stumbled along after you, nearly tripping over the same rocks you had avoided masterfully. 

Before he could ask what you were doing, you pulled your gun from its hidden holster and clicked the safety. Steve’s eyes bulged out of his head just in time to see the first round sound off mid-air. He crouched down to the floor and shielded his head. You shot away from him, obviously, until all seven rounds were dislodged, aimed in the sky diagonally. 

Once the last bullet exited, you simply packed everything up. Now calm and collected, you turned around and headed back for the car.

Steve’s voice cracked as he spoke, “Seriously?”

You pushed branches away from your head as you walked, “Seriously.”

“Do you know how dangerous that is? Those bullets don’t just disappear into thin air,” Steve scolded, jogging up to speed walk beside you. 

“So fucking what? I’m keeping the rent low in this area, then.”

Steve sighed in defeat, “Talk to me.”

“Sorry, I’m shutting down.”

“Y/N-”

You groaned, tears of frustration not entirely formed, but in their beginning stages. “You already know what’s stressing me out, Steve. Do you need it in writing?”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Steve lowered his voice. “What do you need me to do?”

“Just,” you paused, stopping to face him. You opened and closed your hands mid-air as if that would help you formulate your sentences better. “I don’t know. But when I find out, I’ll let you know.”

This Steve could accept. So he simply nodded, guiding you the rest of the way with his hand gently placed on your lower back. 

     The drive back to the hotel was fairly silent. The radio provided a calming relief from such drama. Steve would glance at you every so often to check on you, but you were always resting your eyes. This was only the first day of the mission - officially. If you were this drained from one encounter, Steve needed to rethink this whole operation. Whether it was healthy to keep you on, or if the threat was just too large. But no matter the alternatives, Steve understood that this week was going to be difficult either way, and you needed to be present. This was your mission after all. He was just your partner. 

Even with a thousand things on your mind, you were still conscious enough to check your surroundings, check-in with the agent posted behind the front desk, and reconnect your mic with the teams. 

Steve pushed open your room door and threw the car keys on one of the nearby tables. “Nap time?”

You ignored his initial question, “I didn’t think seeing them in person again would be so draining.”

Steve watched you carefully, somewhat scared that you would pull out your gun again and shatter a window. “It was pretty cramped.”

You started to disarm yourself, tearing off your sweater and holsters clumsily. “And they acted like we were all on good terms! Around you, at least. I know they’re acting for my sister’s sake and then we can go back to hating each other after, but really?”

Steve sat on the edge of his bed, eyes sorry. “I really don’t know what to say.”

You threw yourself onto your bed, burying your face into the pillows. You continued speaking, albeit muffled. “You don’t have to say anything - just let me rant.”

“You’ll tire yourself out, Y/N. C’mon, we gotta draft up this report-”

You lifted yourself up and started smoothing down your hair, “I need a drink.”

Steve pointed to the computer, “The report.”

“A drink.” 

“Y/N, it’s getting late. The sooner we draft it, the sooner-”

You grumbled out again, already opening the door and shoving your boots on. “Steve, I need a drink. You know what they do to me, what they’ve done to me, what they continue to do every single day. Now, join me or not but I am going downstairs for a drink.”

Steve paused for a moment, looking around the room hesitantly. “Can I at least take the laptop?”

You threw your head back and walked out the door, “Take the goddamn laptop, jesus fucking christ, c’mon.”

     If there’s one thing you were happy about today, it was that you booked a hotel with a mini bar on the second floor. It wasn’t an outright full bar, but it was low lit, clean and the counters were made from fine wood, and there was a variety of flavors to choose from. There were only a few hotel guests spread out and a single bartender. You and Steve took seats at the counter. 

“Whiskey sour,” you called for the bartender, trying and failing to give him the nicest smile you could. 

Steve settled in his bar stool, “Thought you wanted to drink to drink hard.”

You chuckled at him and extended your arms in a stretch, “I’m mad, not depressed.”

He grinned at your movements - as if just sitting in a bar already loosened you up. “In that case, get me a beer.”

     Natasha had called Steve for help after your fourth beer and fifth whiskey. Her coaxing proved to be pointless, each request of a safe passage home seeming to enter one ear and leave the other. And you’ll end up killing her when you were sober enough for sending unwanted reinforcements, but even she didn’t want to fight you. If you wanted to drown in liquid courage, that courage churning itself into raw despair, then she would allow it. 

Steve stared at you for a few moments. Head hanging low, a deep frown etched into your tired expression, index finger tapping your glass as if you were debating whether to down it in one go or to leave it. Steve had never seen you like this, guard destroyed and face practically pale, just begging to be left alone. And it seemed the whole bar felt the same way, as there was no music playing and everyone was wallowing in their own grief. 

“I can spot you from a mile away, you know?”

Your voice immediately pulled Steve from his own mind and he was surprised you could still form coherent sentences given the amount of empty glasses in front of you. 

“I don’t mean to interrupt.”

You scoffed, leaning away from him as he sat down in the stool beside you. “Natasha sent you. Don’t tell me otherwise.”

“I’m not saying anything.”

“Good.”

Steve ordered a beer for himself, and although he was driving, one beer wouldn’t impair him anyway. It wouldn’t even cause a dent in his 20/20 vision. 

“Fucking ridiculous, it’s fucking ridiculous!” 

The bar patrons seemed to wince simultaneously and the bartender simply gathered a few of your empty glasses to wash. Steve didn’t hush you, didn’t touch you, didn’t try to reassure you. If you needed to cause a scene, it was time. Your silence for the past week had been frightening, but when Tony returned last night, half dead and without the kid, it seemed to be your breaking point. 

“Wanda destroyed it. She destroyed the fucking stone and all he did was use another to bring it back.”

Steve took a sip of his beer to disguise his quivering lip, but his eyes had no curtain. His waterline swelled with fresh tears, eyes instantly reddening, an undesired sting pinching the corners. 

“Strange must have had a reason. He must’ve, but - how can that reason include the death of trillions?”

“We’re going to find a way-”

“And if we don’t?”

Steve kept his lips on the bottle, incisors biting down only slightly as he took in your rhetorical question. You continued speaking.

“He destroyed the stones.”

“Carol is looking for answers.”

You shook your head and pulled out your wallet, leaving whatever cash you had on the counter before standing up. You stumbled but Steve latched onto your arm and pulled it to hug his waist. 

“Loki?” you mumbled, raising your head to lock eyes with Steve. He didn’t know if you were calling him another name or if you were asking for the God’s whereabouts. “Bucky?”

“Hey, stop, stop.”

“Peter?”

Steve could only nod. What use was it to lie to you? Your new vertical position seemed to magnify the true extent of your intoxication as your eyes finally glazed over and limbs trembled. 

“Let’s get you home, okay?”

Gripping his shirt, you apologized each time it would crumble and you would accidentally tug it downward. But Steve didn’t care. You were practically limp in his arms, heavy and without proper use of your legs. 

“You’re a good man, Steve.”

Steve sighed sadly but couldn’t help the small smile that formed as he looked down at you and found you sporting a silly one of your own. 

“A really good man. I’m happy you’re still here.”

Steve paused for a moment, taking in your words and holding back his own tears. If there was a time he wanted to be drunk off his ass, it would be now. He was somewhat jealous of the brief relief alcohol had given you, loose and not fully aware of the drama of the world. “I’m happy, too.”

“No, you’re not,” you slurred, allowing Steve to guide you to his car. You slumped against the passenger door as Steve searched his pocket for his key. “I heard you crying last night.”

Steve halted his search mid-pat, a hard crease forming between his eyebrows as he lifted his head. “I wasn’t-”

“I cry too,” you admitted, a drunken pout on your face. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

Perhaps it was a dirty thing for him to do at this moment because you wouldn’t remember a single word of this conversation in the morning, but he figured there was no immediate harm. He found his key, unlocked the car, and helped you inside. Only once he entered the car himself did he take advantage of your blurry mind. 

“I cried for Sam and Bucky. Who do you cry for?”

You clicked the seatbelt on, mind clear enough for safety precautions it seemed. “Poor Wanda.”

Steve nodded and started the car. “Anything else?”

“Did I ever tell you about the time Loki asked me on a date?”

Steve immediately shut off the car and turned to you. “Huh? When?”

You grinned, small giggles bubbling from your chest. “A few months ago. He was so shy, too. I said yes.”

Steve ignored the twinge in his chest, “How was it?”

You leaned your head back and tilted it towards him, your smile faltered slightly. “Never went on it. And now he’s dead.”

The urge to lean over and wrap you in a much needed hug was there, eating away at him since you called him a good man. But he had taken advantage of this situation far too much, so he simply nodded in understanding and started the car again. 

“I’m sorry.”

You barely heard him, but you mumbled a quick response before letting the alcohol fully consume you. “Me too.”

     You thanked the bartender when they slid you your drink. “I hadn’t seen him since before the world went to shit.” You took a quick sip. “Kinda strange.”

Steve nodded, wondering if he should dive deep into the issue at hand. Instead of outright saying his outdated spiel, he eased into it. He gave you a few needed sips of your drink, at least.  “Y/N, can I ask an honest question?”

You hummed, “My toes are already tingling. You could probably ask me what my kinks are and I’d tell you.”

Steve suddenly burst into a fit of giggles, “You never could handle a sip of alcohol.”

Your eyes rounded at his reaction. Perhaps the alcohol affected him in other fun ways that he didn’t know. “Nope, I’m a lightweight.”

Steve contained himself before clearing his throat, “The question…”

“Go ahead.”

He rolled his shoulders and took a sip of his beer. Leaning in closer, he lowered his voice. “If it comes down to it, and god forbid you’re incapacitated, do you want me to kill your father?”

Your mouth opened slightly, the words stuck behind your tongue. You looked down at your drink, as if some special response was swimming in it. You knew your answer, but the way to phrase it was lost. 

“I don’t want his blood on your hands.”

“But if it was the last choice?”

You sighed, “If you pull that trigger, they’ll never stop coming after you.”

Steve’s eyebrows scrunched together, “But if you pull it?”

You shrugged and raised the glass to your lips. “That’s my life, Steve. Let me deal with the consequences.”

“That’s just it - you don’t have to. At least, not alone.”

God, you hated how perfect Steve sounded all the time. Whenever he was annoying you, fighting you, or protecting you, his syllables were stretched in the most glorious way, dipping into every crevice of the person they were delivered to and warming inches of body slowly. You wanted him to have somewhat of an evil side for once in his life, but no matter how many times you thought he would explode, he didn’t.

Two years ago, when he dropped you from his life in an instant, you had assumed you finally caught a glimpse at this evil side. It was the only time you were truly scared of him. 

“You really are a good person.”

Steve swished his beer bottle around, “I wish everyone would stop being surprised by that.”

“I’m not surprised. I guess I just want to hate you, and I can’t.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped like crumbling mountains and you couldn’t stop thinking about how vulnerable he looked. You wanted to pull him closer and rest your head to his chest, hear his heartbeat and apologize for theorizing a possible hatred. 

“Why do you want to hate me?”

“When you wouldn’t sign the accords, part of me saw that as the mascot of America not caring if he invaded and pillaged everything in his path.”

“But I-” Steve interjected, but you stopped him by raising your hand and waving it gently. 

“I know why you didn’t. Hell, I helped you escape.”

“Why did you help if you hated me?”

Being vulnerable with Steve wasn’t anything new. You were each other’s support system for those lonely five years, but it all changed the moment you defeated Thanos. So, for the last two years you didn’t quite get along. But here, now, you could always tell when Steve was being honest and open. 

“Guess I thought that if you were willing to help me with my family, I should help you with yours.”

His therapist desperately tried to rationalize the experiences Steve would tell, instructing him to look past hard exteriors and accept help from others. That his old friends were still friends, and enemies should never be compared to those he loved. And he knew he was easily blinded when something or someone had the slightest mishap, instantly writing it off as harmful. 

He spoke of you often during his one hour sessions - stories of your blatant silliness and crude jokes; how you would poke your finger into his sandwiches when you thought he wasn’t looking; how you almost beat up a kid and his little gang for baiting Peter after his identity was exposed; and how you and Sam had gotten into a bar fight over something so trivial, so unnecessary, that it was almost unbelievable to see you innocently scoot away from the body on the floor in the police video, as if you had nothing to do with it and those few feet of distance automatically cleared you. 

His therapist would just listen. 

“Did I ever thank you?”

You smiled sadly, “You went into hiding soon after. Then we went to battle, lost everyone, went to battle again, and then…”

“And then.”

‘And then’ wasn’t really something you two liked to bring up. It was still a fresh wound, somewhat patched up, but still open. 

You spaced out for a few minutes, both of you enjoying your drinks. You were no longer drinking to get drunk, not that it was your original goal to begin with. You just sat in comfortable silence, reliving the events earlier that day and drafting an internal report. 

“What are you thinking about?”

You pursed your lips and thought, clicking your tongue when it finally dawned on you. “This was the first time I saw Marcus White sober.”

Steve sat up straighter, “Are you sure? He didn’t look it.”

“Yeah, he usually speaks quickly and he fidgets. But he was coherent this afternoon.”

“Should that be a red flag?”

You took out your phone and sent a quick text to Torres for him to monitor White closely for the next few days, just in case. “A big one. My father referred to him more often than he did Ramirez.”

Steve tackled every idea in his head quickly, speaking as a new one popped up. “They could be planning a move against Ramirez. He’s close to overthrowing your father.”

You raised your head from your phone, “And the wedding would be a perfect distraction.”

“He would kill his greatest rival on your sister’s happiest day?”

You let out a low chuckle, “This man has nothing to lose. It won’t matter who he topples along the way.”

Steve opened the laptop, silently congratulating himself for bringing it despite your insults, and began drafting the report. The two of you worked for the next hour, nursing a couple more drinks before you sent the final copy to Bucky. 

~

TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress​

[airi-p4]

Love in the sky

I wrote this for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers LBSC Sprint challenge - Meet cute week event and, once again, I got carried away and broke all the rules. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Prompt: Sitting next to each other on the plane.

Summary: Marinette is going to NY on an international flight for the first time. What she doesn’t know is that the one seated next to her is the popular new band Kitty Section’s guitarist: Luka Couffaine.

Thank you @livrever for checking it for me 💙

AO3

______________________________________

Marinette rushed through the aisle of the plane. She couldn’t believe she almost missed it! her first international trip to the US! Stupid alarm! Of course she was tired. She was so nervous she couldn’t sleep all night… until 5AM… and the plane departed at 10AM… and obviously she had to oversleep. *sigh*

Running, tripping and spinning on her feet, she finally searched for her seat. 38B - aisle seat. Her pink polka dotted suitcase was heavy, but thanks to the cabin attendant she could finally put it inside the overhead bin, while her backpack rested under the seat in front of her. All set, she let her weight fall on the seat at last and let out a deep breath as she fastened her seatbelt.

The doors of the plane closed, and the PA message started: Welcome on board… Security instructions… Marinette wasn’t listening. Her legs were uncontrollably shaking, and her fingers were fidgeting with the laces of her hoodie.

Those nerves and stress couldn’t be healthy.

She examined her surroundings, and, next to her, someone was sleeping. Someone, who appeared to be a young man, with a sleeping eye mask and a face mask on, messy blue hair showing under a knit hat and a blanket covering his body. Overall, it didn't give much more information about her plane's seat neighbor. Not wanting to wake him up, she focused on the rest of the passengers instead. Why were all of them so quiet when she felt her heart could burst out of her chest anytime?

The plane started its runaway and Marinette closed her eyes tightly when it raised from the lane. Once in the air, she started breathing again, but her heart was still beating fast.

"First time on a plane?" a masculine voice beside her asked.

She turned to her side, and looked at the person seated next to her. His eye mask was over his head now, and she could see his blue eyes clearly, while his blue bangs partly covered his eyebrows.

“Y- yes!” she squeaked.

“You’re making me nervous too. Calm down, it’s going to be ok” he assured.

“I- I know!" She said, but her body wasn’t obeying. “I’m sorry...”

The young man sighed. “Look, I’ve been on a plane many times. It’s safe. Why don’t you try to sleep? It’s going to be a long flight.”

“I- I can’t! I’m too nervous! I’ve never traveled alone before, plus my career depends on this trip! I can’t stay calm!”

“Why don’t you try listening to some music, then? It always helps me relax” the young man offered her a sympathetic look.

“Music…?” she blinked. ‘It could work’.

She plugged the earphones and put them in her ears. Then, she scrolled through the music programs on the touch screen in front of her. Classical music? For some reason, it only made it worse. Country music? Not her style. XY? Hell, no. Her eyes stopped at the name of a fairly new band: “Kitty Section”. She played the video called: “Kitty Section's Paris Live Concert”.

“Good choice” the man next to her said when the title started showing on the screen.

Marinette had heard about the band called Kitty Section. They had featured in most of her favorite magazines after they won Eurovision several months ago, but she wasn't familiar with their music. In less than a minute, she was hooked and forgot completely about her surroundings or her nerves.

“Wow!” she mumbled, mesmerized, and the man next to her let out a snicker.

The music was amazing- the rock vibes, their stage presence, the vocalists’ cuteness and high ranged voice, the accurate and insane drums, the gorgeous purple haired bassist… all of them sounded incredible. But the guitarist… the blue haired guitarist was extraordinary- unbelievably good. Not only talented, but also powerful, charismatic and incredibly handsome.

“They’re good, huh?” The man beside her commented and she nodded. She could tell he was smiling under his face mask. She nodded in agreement.

“I had never heard them properly before but damn- they are incredible” Marinette answered, and he laughed. Her fingers tapped rhythmically, following the beat of the song.  “But…" she continued, observing. "I think they could do better. There’s a margin of improvement,” she said with judging eyes.

“Oh, really? How?” The blue-eyed man asked, curious, resting his elbow on the arm rest to get a closer look.

“The costumes,” Marinette pointed out. Then, she reached her backpack under her feet and took out a sketchbook and a pen and started drawing. “The outfits could be improved if they added this, and this” she signaled. “And this-” She kept scribbling while the blue-haired man observed and listened to her suggestions. “And ta-da! Wouldn’t they look even better if they were like this?” She proudly showed him her designs, only to realize she was being embarrassing towards a stranger. “Ah, sorry- I got carried away…” She apologized. But the man took the sketchbook in his hands.

“Let me see,” he said, and she saw how his eyes examined every detail of her drawings. She gulped nervously. It felt like her skills were being tested. But the man took his face mask off and smiled. “Wow, that’s impressive. Fresh, charismatic, unique- and perfectly according to the band's style. I love them" he returned her the sketchbook. "You’re very talented. Are you famous? Do you take commissions?” He asked, and she looked at him speechless.

“I- I’m still a no-one… Is it really impressive?” She looked at him and blushed at the compliment.

“Yes, I think so. What would you do with this outfit?” He asked, showing him a photo of the same band on his smartphone. Her inspiration overflowed as she kept drawing and explaining her ideas. They kept discussing costumes and visual aspects of the band and chatted comfortably for a long time.

"I think Rose should go with something more… daring, bolder. She looks innocent but she's fierce inside. Of course, cuteness is her main trait, so I think she should combine both" she explained, coloring her design with colored pencils. "I think something like this would be perfect for her" she showed him her sketchbook and he was impressed. “As for Juleka-” She continued, turning to a blank page. “She’s so beautiful. I wish she didn’t cover her face so much, even if the mystery look is really attractive too…" She stopped drawing for a moment to admire the bassist on the screen. "Gosh- She's so gorgeous! I wish I was that beautiful” she commented.

“I think you’re even more beautiful than her, you know?” The blue-haired man casually said, and she shyly blushed with a 'no way' frantic arms movements. “What about the guitarist?” he asked, raising an eyebrow with a smug smile.

“Luka Couffaine? OH LORD SHOW MERCY- Have you seen him? And his eyeliner? It should be ILLEGAL to be this HOT” She said, convinced.

“Hmmm… So you like him, huh?” He teased, his smile widening.

“Who doesn’t, really?” She shrugged. “He’s literally the SEXIEST man alive. His eye contact with the camera could kill! Oh, and whenever he gets shirtless on stage or photoshoots? GOD- I almost get a nosebleed EVERY FREAKING TIME! He's TOO DAMN HOT" She fanned herself at the image. "Don’t you agree?" She asked and he blinked twice. "You like him too, right? You have so many photos of them in your phone! I bet he’s making you question your sexuality too, like he does with all my friends! How could anyone resist those blue eyes and his manly features, his soft looking blue hair and- his tattoos..." She looked away from her seat neighbor's blue piercing eyes, and focused at the smartphone screen again, to a close-up photo of Kitty Section’s guitarist. "How did you get these close-up casual photos...?” she asked, and then she noticed the tattoo on his neck. She looked back and forth at the man seated next to her and the one in the picture. ‘It couldn't be, right…?’ And at that moment, when he had a knowing smile on his face- one she knew too well-, she realized who he was seated next to on the plane. Her eyes opened as big as plates and she overheated. He was smirking amusingly at her reaction. “You- You- You are-? Lu-Lu-Luk- It can’t be…”

He nodded to confirm her suspicions and her jaw fell to the floor. “Hi. I think I haven't introduced myself yet. My name is Luka. But I think you already know that. It’s nice to meet you.” He chuckled, straightening his hand for a handshake.

“Oh God, kill me now...” She mumbled, sinking on the table. Luka snickered.

“What’s your name?”

“Ma-Ma-Marinette… I mean- Marinette!” She felt his eyes on her and panicked. “Excuse me- I- I need a moment... This- This is too much- Oh My God...” She stood up and rushed to the end of the plane, not without tripping twice on her way there.

________________________

While Marinette was gone, the two ladies in front of Luka and Marinette’s seats turned to Luka. “Having fun?” They smirked, knowingly. He was chuckling, having real trouble to keep his laugh from escaping.

“Oh, God, Yes. This is so much fun." He wiped the tears that were forming on his eyes. "I think I’ve found our potential new costume designer” he continued laughing under his nose.

“Only that? I think there’s more...” Juleka smirked, and Rose giggled in agreement by her side. He couldn't deny it: his sister was totally right.

Behind Luka's seat, Kitty Section's drummer, Ivan and his girlfriend Mylene had been enjoying the show the blue-eyed pair had been giving. It was definitely more entertaining than any movie. It would have been perfect if they had popcorn to accompany their fortunate first row seats to the hilarious show. They also approved Marinette's designs.

Luka took the chance Marinette wasn't there to freely stand up, go talk to their managers and stretch his legs for a bit.

_________________________

Back at the end of the plane, Marinette drank some juice and moved to the bathroom. She was panicking in front of the mirror, talking to herself.

“OH. MY. GOD. I’m seated next to Luka Couffaine! For at least… 5 hours more!? And I just called him hot! And- And- he said I’m beautiful and talented! And- Oh my God, he asked me for commissions, right? This can’t be real- I-" her feet wiggled uncontrollably and she let out a long squeak. "Ahh… Calm down, Marinette! He’s human- A sexy human, but still human! He’s famous but very friendly, kind and nice. And fun! It’s going to be alright. Just- Avoid his eyes. That’s it. It’s dangerous. Don’t fall in love. You’re not a teenager anymore, you’re over that stage, right? Only a few hours more. You can do it. I CAN DO IT!” She convinced herself with a confident nod and returned to her seat, only to find Luka was gone.

She looked for him from her seat, at her surroundings, but he was nowhere to be found. She sighed in both relief and sadness as she seated.

For some reason, she was missing him. Which was stupid, considering they had just met! But his company was certainly enjoyable... And, moreover, it was FUN. More than she ever remembered having. And not only because she was passionate about fashion or music. It had to do with his aura, his personality, his gentle manners- just... Luka.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be back in a moment” A voice said from in front of her. “My brother is stupid, but he’s a decent person. Treat him well” The purple haired lady winked, beside a petit blond lady.

“Jul-!” She covered her mouth with her hands to stop herself from yelling her name. “And Rose-!?” 'Oh, no! They might have heard what I said too!' She panicked again and the ladies giggled amused.

“Ignore my sister and her girlfriend” Luka returned, and her face flustered when she noticed how tall and well built he was (not that she didn't know that, but it hit differently in first person). “Can I get back to my seat?” He politely asked, pointing at the window seat.

“Ah-! Yes! Of course!” She stood up so suddenly she tripped and fell on Luka’s chest. She immediately moved away in embarrassment, falling back instead, and Luka had to hold her again to avoid her imminent fall. “I’m sorry!”

“Are you ok?” He asked in concern, and she shyly nodded. Luka reluctantly let go of her and returned to his seat and Marinette settled back to hers.

Wait- Was that a blush on his face?

“Here” Luka offered her an envelope. “I don’t know what your plans in NY are but, here’s a VIP pass to our concert next Sunday. There’s also our contact card inside. I want you to consider the idea of working for us. Your costumes are impressive. We discussed it, and we want you in our team” Marinette had no words- totally speechless. Could she be this lucky? “What do you say?” Luka asked with a hopeful tender smile that made her weak.

“I- I’ll think about it. And- Oh God- I’ll totally be there for your concert” She blushed and Luka smiled kindly at her. Suddenly, she started searching inside her backpack, and took out a business card she offered him. “This is my contact. I- I have a fashion event next Monday. I would love you to come, if you can make it. Send me an email and I’ll get you some passes”

“Wow! That's impressive. I'll try to make it. Thank you, Marinette”

Marinette could hear her heart beating faster. No looking in his eyes, dammit. They kept talking for a while, enjoying their time together until they fell asleep out of exhaustion, Marinette’s head resting on Luka’s shoulder. He woke up earlier than her, but didn’t have the heart to wake her up until lunchtime. She looked like she really needed that rest.

When he left half of his lunch untouched, Marinette scolded him. “You have to eat! You’re too thin! Those abs and arms need consistency! Proteins!” She pointed at a photo of him shirtless and flustered again in embarrassment in realization. “Ah-”

Gosh- it really was fun, Luka thought, chucking. It was hard not to laugh out loud. Everything flowed so naturally it was unbelievable.

Damn. He didn’t want the plane to ever land.

“Marinette” he called, during their coffee time, and she looked back at him, redness still on her cheeks. “The plane will land soon but- Even if you don’t accept our offer… Is it possible for us to meet again? Out of business? Like this?”

Marinette flustered at his implications. “Do- Do you mean-?”

“A date. Would you go on a date with me, Marinette? Or just as friends, if you prefer. I like you, and I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun with anyone else” He took Marinette’s pen and one of his ‘Kitty Section’ contact cards and wrote something behind it. “These are my personal telephone number and email. We'll be in NY until Friday next week. It would make me very happy if you contact me, whenever you prefer, anytime” He said, securing the card in her hands.

Marinette blushed, looked at the card with glowing eyes, and then at his honest loving stare. Was it even possible that the man everyone was gushing about was asking her out? But this had nothing to do with his stage persona. Luka was someone she more than enjoyed spending time with. Naturally, quietly, assuring… She had no doubts about her answer.  

“I want to meet you again, too” she stated, and wrote her personal number under his wristband. “I’m free on Wednesday” she shyly smiled, and his smile widened.

“Wednesday is it, then. I'll manage to find the time. Just for you." He smiled happily and only then she realized how deep she had fallen.

Ah- she hadn't wanted to fall in love. What a way to fail her own determination… But she couldn't complain, not at all.

And he felt the same way.

Luka and Marinette's hands locked together, and they lost themselves in each other’s eyes, smiling at each other.

“Why don’t you kiss her already, dumbass?” Juleka called, and Marinette blushed. “He won’t kiss you if you don’t give him proper permission, you know? He’s very considerate despite his looks. Tell him already”

“Jules… Why don’t you mind your business and make out with Rose instead?” He shushed his sister and Rose giggled, embracing Juleka. Luka returned his attention to Marinette. “Sorry about that”

“It’s ok… I-” She started, looking at his thin lips. “Will you kiss me if I want to? Because I think I do...”

“You do?” he asked, and she shyly nodded and he smiled softly, making her heart flutter.

She closed her eyes and he leaned closer to give her a sweet kiss on her cheek. She pouted a little, in disappointment, but he told her that, if she really wanted to kiss him, that would be the perfect excuse to meet him again and make it more special, like a beautiful lady like her deserved. Marinette understood his reasoning and agreed with it, despite the slight disappointment she felt she would have to wait a few days to get the chance to kiss him. Nevertheless, both of them happily smiled while their fingers remained interlaced, chatting and enjoying their time together the rest of the flight, until the plane landed and they had to unavoidably say their farewells.

“Thank you for everything, Luka. I forgot how scared I was of planes thanks to you and- I’ll see you soon?”

“I really hope so. I still owe you something, right?" He winked and she blushed happily. Luka gave her a final discreet and quick kiss on her knuckles. "Gosh- I miss you already...” He added, and Marinette felt the urge to cry. She dropped her bag to hold him in a needed embrace. He gladly reciprocated her gesture. Despite neither wanting to separate, they forced themselves to. "I hope I see you soon, Marinette"

"Me too, Luka…" she wiped her tears and waved, as the band started walking away.

When the arrivals doors opened and all the camera flashes blinded her, she understood why Kitty Section members always wore sunglasses in airports. They were more popular than she could have expected. She understood why he had refused to kiss her outside of the plane, but he still saluted her before disappearing in the multitude of fans and paparazzis.

On the other side, Sabrina, Audrey Bourgeois’ assistant, waited for her. She had almost forgotten about her own business. But now, she found the motivation she had lacked. If she was willing to be with Luka, she had to become the best. She wanted to make a name of herself, more than ever. And her meeting with Luka certainly boosted her confidence.

Unexpectedly, her trip to NY had already become one of her most memorable experiences yet. And it had just started! She couldn't wait to spend the rest of the week in the city.

[hockeyboysiguess]

Jerseys and Dumplings

a/n: some good old friends to lovers Tkachuk for your Thursday!

warnings: swearing

word count: 6.3K

You yanked the restaurant door open harder than you’d meant to, but you were in a rush. A last minute assignment had kept you at work later than you’d planned, much later than you’d planned, and you were running later than would ever be considered fashionably late by anyone who made insane amounts of money to recite a bunch of shitty dialogue to a camera. You pulled at the bottom of your skirt to adjust it as you walked through the door before giving up. Your skirt was definitely crooked, your hair was definitely a mess, but your mother’s words played over in your head, “It’s never the job of a successful, powerful to look a particular way. Success is messy. Own the messy.”

“Hi, sorry,” you whisper-yelled to the hostess. “Uh, Hanifin? Pretty sure everyone else is already here.”

“Right this way.”

She was clearly unimpressed with your disheveled appearance and your tardiness as she looked you over from top to bottom from over the top of her glasses. You pushed thoughts of her and work out of your head to focus the evening. Meeting your best friend’s boyfriend was a hit-miss experience with Tessa as your best friend. She alternated between introducing you to immature, outrageous guys who were all about having a good time who always ended up cheating on her or guys who were basically the human equivalent of a completely dried builder-grade beige wall. This one was apparently some moderately famous hockey player, which automatically had you leaning him in the first column, but she pleaded with you to reserve judgment until you met him tonight. You were desperate for her to finally date a guy that was somewhere on the middle of her two extremes. She always countered by saying she wanted you to go on a date, any date. You brushed her off every time, telling her you were focusing on your career and yourself.

“There you are!” Tessa shouted, bumping the table harshly as she stood up to great you. “I started to think you forgot about us.”

“Sorry, babes,” you sighed as you let her pull you in for a quick hug. “I-”

“Got caught up at the office.”

You pulled back from her and glared at her. Tessa saying the words that all too frequently left your lips was just a little passive aggressive, usually your specialty. You rolled your eyes at her and she giggled before reaching out to the guy next to her to pull him to his feet.

“This,” she wrapped her hands around his forearm in a sort of death grip, “is Noah. Noah, this is the ever-discussed best friend slash somehow roommate even though I see her more out to lunch than I do in our apartment.”

“Thanks, Tess,” you mumbled. Noah offered his arms out to you gingerly and you accepted a soft hug. “Nice to meet you, Noah.”

“Really nice to finally meet you,” he smiled softly as you took your seats.

“Oh, I hope you don’t mind.” The sing-song tone in Tessa’s voice drew a groan from you because you knew what was going to come next. “Stop it! Anyway, Noah brought one of his teammates along, so you weren’t third wheeling.”

“Is he invisible?” you asked with a wave of your hand to the empty seat next to you.

“Just in the bathroom, actually.”

You turned your head and were greeted with a bright, toothy grin and mop of curly hair. The restaurant was dark, but you could tell he had a beautiful pair of baby blues to go with his dimples and sharp jawline. Tessa has clearly hand-picked this one out of the Flames line up for you. He was exactly your type. You watched as his light eyes broke contact with yours and gave you a quick once look over, lingering almost indiscernibly at your chest and your hips.

“I’m Matthew,” he said, his smile starting on a slippery slope to a smirk as he sat down next to you.

You debated calling him out for checking you out, but Tessa rapped her foot on your shin, letting you know she was ready and waiting to give you a swift kick if she didn’t like how you were acting. People thought Tessa was soft. You thought people shouldn’t underestimate Tessa, so you swallowed your comeback and introduced yourself instead. Matthew gave you a quick nod, his broken curls bouncing with the sudden movement. A smile began to pull at the corners of your lips against your will and something in your chest told you he was going to be trouble if you let him be, so you resolved not to let him be. You watched his attention shift to the couple across the table and his face scrunch up in disgust. Noah and Tessa were seeming trying to figure out if it was possible for two people to become one via their open mouths pressed against each other.

“Come on, guys,” Matthew whined as one of his hands came down roughly on the tabletop, causing the silverware to click together loudly. Noah and Tessa separated at the sound, not at Matthew’s words. “The single folks don’t even have drinks yet. Can you save the foreplay until we at least have some alcohol in us?” 

“Seriously,” you joined in. If Tessa was going to set you up against your will, at least it was with someone that hated Tessa’s fondness for wild amounts of PDA as much as you did. “Please keep all tongues, hands, and arms in your own seats tonight.”

“Genitals should remain their not upright and locked positions” Matthew added. Tess blushed at his words, causing Matthew to turn his head towards you. He cocked his head to the side, a mischievous look dancing in his eyes and pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Too much?” 

You answered by continuing, “Excellent addition, fellow date attendant. Fasten your seatbelts as we expect there might be some turbulence on tonight’s date.” 

“Turbulence?” Tessa asked, her voice a solid octave and a half higher than normal and her eyebrows raised, daring you to continue. 

“Oh yes, turbulence,” Matthew cut in. “So, Tessa, where did you grow up?”

“I’m sorry, I’m back on turbulence,” Noah jumped in verbally and physically, a hand raised across the table. 

“We,” you informed him, gesturing between Matthew and yourself, “are the turbulence.”

“Yes, thank you, good blind date I didn’t ask for,” Matthew nodded to you, curling bouncing again in a way that made you have to bite your lip to avoid smiling like a schoolgirl with a new crush. “You both worked together to set us up tonight, unasked for based on just how fed up my fellow date attendant seemed by my very presence. Esteemed co-worker, can you confirm, for the record, that you did not ask for this set up and that you’re just as tired as I am of your friends across the table setting you up with people?” 

Matthew grabbed a breadstick from the basket in one fist and presented it to you like a microphone. You laughed softly, making an out of character smile crack across Matthew’s face before you both pulled yourself back into the accidental routine you’d created. 

“Yes, yes, Matthew. I can confirm I was not made aware of your presence tonight and I have not asked Tessa to set me up with anyone at this time,” you replied seriously, putting on your best politician impression. 

“You sounded like you were doing an impression of Tina Fey doing her Sarah Palin impression from SNL,” Matthew laughed at you. He couldn’t stop smiling as he turned his attention to your friends who had no idea what monster they’d created tonight. “As my good colleague Sarah Palin just said, neither one of us asked to be here. So now, we’re teaming up to see if we really approve of this union or not. So, I repeat. Tessa, where are you from?” 

The evening was filled with you and Matthew teaming up to flip the script on your friends. You grilled Noah, with Matt’s support, and you offered some direction to his probing questions for Tessa. They took in stride though and you realized somehow, some way beyond your understanding, Tessa had fallen into a good relationship for the first time since you knew her. 

Just after making a two-bite dent into your incredible dessert, Tessa pulled you to the bathroom with her, the classic story of girls never being able to pee alone floating at the excuse. When you left the stall, you were greeted by Tessa, arms across her chest, one foot tapping on the ground, and wry smile on her face. 

“So, things seem to be going well with Matthew,” she said with a smirk and a soft nod. “Figured it would be sink or swim but didn’t think it would go quite this.” 

“Oh, shut up,” you groaned as you turned on the water for the sink to start scrubbing your hands, “we’re just being friendly.”

“Are you kidding me?” she practically shouts at you. “He literally has not taken his eyes off you once all night. He’s so into you!”

“Tess, stop,” you told her with a sigh as you shut off the water. You grabbed a couple of paper towels before spinning on your heels to face her. “Seriously, Tess, he’s not into me. We’re just getting along as friends, okay? Be happy this didn’t blow up in your face for the first time.” 

“You cannot be serious right now,” Tessa whined. She reached for your arm as you tossed the paper towels away, pulling your attention back to her. She bounced on her heels a little and gave you the most frustrated look she could muster. “He is into you. Noah thinks so too. Just, can you just try? For me?” 

“I don’t want a relationship, Tess,” you replied curtly. “Why can’t you just accept that?” 

“He’s perfect for you!” Her frustration with you was growing with each word that she had to say as she tried to spell it out for you. “He’s your type. I know I nailed that one. I know you have to think he’s attractive, so you can’t lie to me. You have really similar senses of humor. He totally thinks you’re hot, which you are. Don’t you dare, that’s not up for debate. Come on, babes. Give Chucky a chance.” 

“Chucky is a murderous doll,” you retorted, skipping over everything else she’d said. “Look, Tess, can’t you just be happy I might have made a friend tonight? That’s growth for me right there.”

“But he wants to be your special friend!” she insisted, bouncing on her heels again. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the image presented by her bouncing and her words. She was channeling herself at age six for sure, an age you didn’t know Tessa at, but from the stories her brothers and mother told you, you were kind of happy you didn’t know her at. 

“Jesus, did you just say that?” you got out between laughs. You sighed as you pulled yourself together. It was time you both escaped the bathroom as the boys were bound to get suspicious soon. “Look, I’m just not really in the sort of place to put myself out there at all right now. If Matthew really does want this and he really does try, I’ll think about it for real, okay? Does that work for you?” 

She sighed and rolled her eyes before saying, “I mean, no, it doesn’t because he would totally give you the good dick right here in this bathroom and probably buy you brunch tomorrow if you actually showed the tiniest bit of actual interest in him, but, it’s the best you’re going to give me, so it’s fine.” 

Your desire to leave the bathroom and get back to your chocolate cake overwhelmed the desire to correct Tess. You pulled her back to the table with you, collapsing into your seat and immediately diving back into the dessert you’d been hearing call your name since you’d left the table five minutes ago.

“You’re murdering that cake,” Matthew noted. “It’s impressive, honestly. Where does the cake go?” 

“Hopefully out my pores tomorrow in the stupid hot yoga class Tess is dragging me too,” you replied, halting another bite on its way to your mouth just to answer. “I wanted to watch Love is Blind and Too Hot to Handle as our new best friend activity for the month. Tessa wants to do hot yoga, so we’re doing hot yoga.” 

“So, you’re the boyfriend in this relationship?” Matthew joked, gesturing between you. 

You dropped your fork to your plate and reached for your almost empty drink instead before replying, “Gender roles are a completely unnecessary societal standard, Matthew, and they do not need to be enforced by heteronormative men who play an incredibly heteronormative sport. Who is the boyfriend and who is the girlfriend is unnecessarily gendered, especially considering I’m clearly the left chopstick and Tessa is the right. ” 

Matthew’s nose scrunched up when he laughed, a sight you were quickly growing used to over the evening, maybe even starting to like. He shook his head softly at you as he took a sip from his glass. 

“Says the girl who pitched to watch a bunch of trash Netflix dating reality shows that are all pretty heteronormative, right?” Matthew countered with a nod of his glass to you. 

“Garbage is not heteronormative,” you replied. “Trash TV is just trash TV, Matthew. Don’t read too much into it. I still haven’t gotten to watch any of it though.” 

“If you need someone to watch with, hit me up,” he told you. “I need an excuse to get drunk on a Wednesday night and sounds like it I would need to be incredibly drunk to watch any of that.” 

“So, this Wednesday then?”

—————

Standing in front of Matthew’s apartment door with a wide variety from your favorite Chinese takeout place in one hand and a six-pack from your favorite local brewery five days later, you were beginning to regret the life choices that led you to this particular moment. You didn’t have much time for the regret to sink in though before Matthew opened the door. 

“If there is something the resembles a dumpling in that bag, I will be your servant for the rest of your life,” was Matthew’s verbal greeting.

“You’re about to be my servant then, but it’ll be worth it. These are the best dumplings I’ve ever had,” you informed him as you pushed past him into his apartment to drop the bags and beer on the counter. You started pulling containers out of the bags as you continued, “I will say you should never Google this place. I’ve only ever ordered via Grubhub delivery before today. I did pick up and this place honestly looks like the architect was drunk and the builders forgot their glasses for the entire build and I’ve never been more horrified, but the dumplings are killer, so I’ve just decided to put it in a box and try to forget I ever saw where they originated.”

You heard a beer crack open beside you and Matthew’s large hand came into view as he set it in front of you. He was close to you, closer than you had thought he would be. You could feel his tall frame behind you, his loose t-shirt brushing against you as he set the beer by your hand. His arms brushed your softly, making your breath catch in your throat.

“Good brewery pick,” he complimented you, his lips near your ear as he spoke. “Also, if you give me food poisoning from your weird Chinese food place, I’m released from my servitude.”

“You know the word servitude?” you countered, trying to pull your mind out of the gutter it was sliding headfirst down with sarcasm and chirping him.

Matthew laughed lightly and shifted himself closer to you. He leaned into you, his chest gentling coming into contact with your back with each breath you took. His large hands gripped the edge of the counter on either side of you. He towered over you and you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering what it would feel like to let him bend you over this counter right here and now.

“Mm, I know a lot of things that might surprise you,” Matthew laughed in your ear.

He pulled back without warning and you released a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Matthew shifted over to the opposite side of the counter, grabbing a beer and popping it open on his journey. He didn’t say another word before turning on his heels and heading toward the couch. Your brows furrowed as thoughts began to swirl and bleed together in your mind. Was that just all in your mind or was that nothing that your mind turned into something? You didn’t have time for something like this. The fact that you’d found time to have dinner with Matthew within two weeks of meeting him astounding given your inconsistent hours and his season. No, you didn’t want him to be flirting with you, you decided, so he wasn’t. You came over looking for a friend, so that’s what you were here for, the only thing you were here for.

“Hope you can use chopsticks,” you told him as you sat an overly full plate of food in front of him a few minutes later.

“I play hockey. I wasn’t raised in a barn,” he threw back at you, a joking smile on his lips.

“Okay, okay,” you laughed with a roll of your eyes.

Matthew tossed the remote as you with his free hand as he brought a dumpling to his mouth with the other, dropping the entire thing into his mouth in one go. You watched his eyes go wide as he bit down for the first time. He looked at you in disbelief as he chewed.

“Holy fuck me,” he told you through a full mouth. “I want to marry whoever made this.”

“Now,” you open Netflix on his TV, “you get me, Tkachuk.”

Matthew had already shoved another one in his mouth by the time Netflix loaded the first episode. Matthew was in food heaven, shoving dumpling after dumpling into his mouth. You laughed a little as his stuffed cheeks. He looked like a curly-headed chipmunk and you told him just that as you grabbed another container of dumplings out of the bag on the counter. He almost chirped you back, but when you dropped a full container in his lap, the chirp died before it had even fully formed.

“I think you’ve ruined dumplings for me from everywhere else in the world. Also, is that guy hot? I feel like they’re just trying to convince us he’s hot when he’s not.”

You were amazed he was able to pay any attention to the show with the speed at which he was consuming food. It was equal parts impressive and disgusting.

“He’s alright,” you shrugged as you reached for your beer. “Not my type. You’d be better off asking Tessa.”

Something you’d said finally beat out the interest of the dumplings. Matthew dropped the container to the table and skewered a dumpling with his chopsticks in exchange for a beer and turning his attention to him. He raised an eyebrow at you before he spoke.

“A type, huh? I wouldn’t happened to fit that type, would I?”

He took a sip as he watched you roll your eyes at him. He chuckled a little against the edge of his bottle at your response.

“Why would you think you would?” you countered, barely pulling yourself together in time to say something within an acceptable response time.

Matthew shrugged casually before replying, “Noah asked me specifically to come the other night and after meeting Tessa, I have a hard time believing she let Noah pick whoever he wanted since that was definitely a set up and blah, blah, blah, so I’m definitely your type, right?”

“Mm,” you hummed as you took a sip of your beer to try and disguise the anxiety his question had brought on. “My type is definitely guys who are obsessed with trying to be my type. It’s so sexy how much you need my validation right now.”

Matthew’s head fell back as he laughed, curls shifting back in tandem. His mouth opened wide as he laughed a full belly laugh at your words. One of his hands came to his stomach as his laughs became breathier and he slowly brought himself back down.

“You’re something else,” Matthew mumbled through a smile, beer on its way back to his lips and soft shake of his head with his words.

“I’m a goddamn goddess and you know it,” was all you had to say to get him laughing again.

—————

“Let’s fucking go, Calgary!” Tessa screamed next to you out of the blue, jumping to her feet as she shouted, making you and several other people around you jump a little in their seats.

“Jesus,” you sighed. “Tess, can you take it down a notch or eighteen, please?”

“It’s the Battle of Alberta, baby!” she shouted in response, a wide drunken grin on her face as she retook her seat next to you with a flop.

The referee blew the whistle, stopping play, and you pulled your attention back to the game with a soft smile on your face. You looked down the ice to see someone wearing a red and black jersey tangled up with a white and blue one. You craned you’re neck to try and see who it was, your breath catching in your throat at the idea it as Matthew. Your eyes were flying back and forth between the ice and the screen, trying to see a number or part of name to figure out if it was him or not. Your racing thoughts were interrupted by a tap on the glass in front of you. You were greeted with a smile that was slowly becoming more and more familiar, just with a mouth guard hanging between his teeth, and some curls peeking out from under a helmet.

Matthew waved at you with two gloved hands, his light blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked at you. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You were relieved he was standing in front of you, a goofy smile on his face, rather than down the ice in that fight. At least the linesman has managed to break it up by now. Matthew’s eyes broke contact from you to give you a once over. He pinched his jersey between his gloved fingers and his eyebrows furrowed down as he looked at you

“Where’s your jersey?” he shouted, though you had to read his lips to actually understand him

You just put your hands out next to you, palms up, and shrugged with a slight pout sticking out your bottom lip. You didn’t own any Flames gear of any kind, certainly not the Tkachuk jersey he was probably looking for. He shook his head at you and glared a little, just to get a small laugh out of you, before he turned his attention back to the game.

“Look at your guy!” Tessa said way too loudly for how tender she’d said it, hands stacked over her heart. “He likes you so much.”

“We are just friends,” you countered firmly, which made Tessa frown.

“He likes you! Aren’t you going over to his place after the game? You should make a move,” she nudged you in the ribs with her elbow.

“I’m picking up exactly four containers of dumplings and we’re watching exactly two episodes of Love is Blind because we’re going to finish up the episodes before they go on vacation with their new fiancés, okay?” you told her. “That’s not exactly a hot date. Besides, I don’t want to make a move. I like him, as a friend.”

“Okay, whatever,” Tessa rolled her eyes at you. “You keep denying that I set you up with a good one until you can’t anymore. Chucky is so smitten with you, he’ll probably wait for you for a ridiculously long time, like rom-com style long time, babes.”

—————

It was your new routine. Well, it wasn’t regular enough to really be a routine. Matthew would text you when he felt like he hadn’t seen you recently enough and demand you show up that same day with dumplings and your sparkling personality. You had tried to deny him, push him off a day or two due to work, but he might be the only person you’d ever met more stubborn that you were. Over garbage television shows and Chinese food, you’d made an actual friend out of him and despite Tessa’s insisting that both of you wanted more.

“Oh, suck it!” Tessa shouted as the Bruins pulled out a last-minute OT goal against Edmonton. She hated the Bruins, but you were pretty sure the only thing Tessa hated more than your insistence that you didn’t want to date Matthew was Edmonton.

You sighed, realizing you’d lost the bet you’d made with her, even though you picked that Edmonton would win to piss her off. She was shouting and jumping up and down, trying to rub her win in your face, but a text cropping up on your phone was pulling your attention.

Tkachuk: pls get five orders of dumplings and bring them right over

You: worked hard today huh?

Tkachuk: you know I fucking did. See you in 30?

You smiled softly, catching Tessa’s attention in the middle of her winning tirade.

“Is that Chucky?” She was already leaning over you, trying to get a glimpse of your phone screen. “Are you ditching me for him again this evening?”

You glared up at her and tilted your phone back, hiding the screen from her view. She stated to glare back, but then her face softened as the corners of her mouth started to pull up. You caught a mischievous glint in her eyes start to form she spoke.

“Hey, the bet was that I get to pick your outfit next time you go out, right?” Tessa asked hesitantly.

“I mean, yeah, but your face is scaring me a little bit here,” you replied, concern for yourself dripping off each word.

“And out could just mean when you go to see Chucky in a few minutes, right?” Her excitement was beginning to leak out, but you couldn’t understand why. “Because since you’re leaving, that’s going out, right?”

“I mean, I guess- Tess, what are you getting at here?”

Tessa didn’t reply. She ran out of the living room, cursing as she banged her elbow on the corner as she turned into the hallway. You heard some rustling in her room, followed by another curse, before she came bounding back into the living room. She tossed something red at you, a borderline evil smile on her face as she did so. You grabbed the red garment. As soon as your fingers touched it, you had an idea of what it was based on the fabric and you groaned as you flipped the garment in your hands. You were greeted with Tkachuk in large bold letters when you looked at the back of the jersey.

“I’m not wearing that to Matthew’s apartment,” you whined, letting the jersey fall into your lap.

“Ah, yes you are. You lost the bet. You wear what I let you to wear,” she told you, waving off your complaints. “Besides, Chucky gave it to Noah to give to me to make sure you wore it to next game anyway. We’re just getting you in it earlier than he had in mind, that’s all.”

You sighed as you stood up to head to your room where you exchanged your comfortable, worn in sweatshirt for the new, crisp jersey. When the red fabric finally hung off your body, you turned and let out a groan when you saw his last name on your back. You knew he wasn’t going to let you live it down the entire time you were with him, but Tessa’s wrath was worse than Matthew’s chirping would ever be.

Tessa was laughing as soon as she caught site of the red fabric, but you didn’t give her much time to feel satisfied with her handiwork. You grabbed your wallet, keys, and phone and headed out the front door. You paused as you sat in the driver’s seat of your car. Tessa had said Matthew wanted you to have the jersey to wear to the next game you went to, but why was he insistent enough to get Noah to give Tessa one of his jerseys? Why didn’t he just give it to you himself? 

You tried to analyze the gesture as you waited in line at the restaurant. You’d taken to just coming in for pick up since you’d been unsuccessful in forgetting just how terrifying seeing this place for the first time was. You never called ahead anymore. You just showed up and the chef knew to start making dumplings for you. They were ready when you got to the counter to order, so you paid, grabbed your food, and returned to your car quickly. You decided the gesture was probably nothing, just Matthew being odd per usual, and tried to force the thought out of your mind as you drove over to his place. 

The thought hung around as you parked in his spare parking spot. The parking pass had gone from being loaned out to every guest to living in your car after the fifth dumpling and trash television visit. He said you were his most regular visitor and he was tired of having to leave to put it in your car for you since you always argued that you’d brought him food, so it was the least he could do. Your mind was racing, trying to figure out if all of it added up to something, or if you were adding up things that didn’t really exist to get to an answer that definitely didn’t. 

You only got one knock in before Matthew opened the door. He moaned when he saw the bag in your arms. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he said, his eyes trained on the brown paper bag his hands were reaching for the entire time he spoke like a prayer had been answered.

You laughed at him and let him take the bag from your arms before following him inside. He dropped the bag on the counter and began grabbing containers and chopsticks while you kicked off your shoes. You let out a long sigh as you prepared yourself for the chirps that were bound to come when you took your coat off and the jersey was finally in his line of site. You chewed your bottom lip between your teeth as you spun around to face him. 

Matthew was frozen in place, a partially opened to-go container on the counter in front of him and chopsticks about to be ripped apart in his hands. His eyes were trained on the flaming logo on the front. 

“Tessa made me wear it,” you admitted quickly. “I lost a bet and she made me wear it.”

Matthew slowly put the chopsticks down and one of his hands came up to his mouth. His hand was on his chin, thumb crossing his lips as he shifted his weight to his other hand braced against the counter’s edge. His light eyes were darker than you were used to as they scanned up and down your body. They came to rest on the number partially visible on the shoulder. He moved his hand from his face to hovering in front of him with his index finger outstretched. Slowly, his index finger began to make small circles as he looked at you. 

“Oh, you’re rubbing this in now,” you huffed, hands going to your hips. 

Matthew just shook his head softly before he swallowed hard, then said one word, “Spin.” 

You sighed, knowing he wanted the full picture for future ammunition, but you wouldn’t get to enjoy your food until you gave him what he asked you. You slowly let your feet shift across the floor, moving you in a gentle circle, giving Matthew a perfect view of his last name across your back. You closed your eyes as you reached the point in your circling where you’d have to see him again. You didn’t need to see the smug look on his face. 

You heard Matthew sigh and you knew whatever he was about to say next was going to be brutal. Instead, all you heard was his feet shuffling quickly across the floor before you felt his hands on you, pressing you back against the nearest wall. Your eyes flung open when you made rough contact with the wall. Before you could fully process it, Matthew’s head dipped down and his mouth was on yours. You almost pulled back, but he was kissing you in a way that took your breath away. You couldn’t not fall into the moment with your palms coming to rest on his chest, but you needed some sort of explanation and you weren’t even sure if this was really what you wanted, so you pushed gently on his chest and he instantly separated from you.

“What the fuck?” you breathed out at him as you lifted your eyes to look at him. 

He was towering over you, his arms boxing you in on either side of your head. His eyes were even darker than they had been and while you could usually read Matthew like open book, you couldn’t recognize the expression on his face. 

“I can’t be your friend if you’re going to look this fucking good with my last name on your back,” he told you. His words were so matter of fact, as if it was the most obvious thing the world. “You have absolutely no idea how bad I want you right now.” 

“Matthew,” you said between deep breaths, “I don’t know.” 

“You know,” he said, his baby blue eyes locking your gaze on him. “You know you know. You’ve known since that first dinner. Tessa knew too. Hell, even Noah knew, and you know how fucking thick he is. We’re not supposed to be just friends. You,” he sucked in a breath through his teeth when he broke eye contact to look down at the jersey while balling some of the red fabric in his hands, “you are too perfect for me to be my friend. God, it’s like someone took everything I ever wanted and put it all in one perfect, stupidly sexy girl, except that someone made her fucking oblivious to her own feelings.”

Matthew let out a soft laugh and shook his head as he released the fabric from his hands. His eyes rolled up to lock with yours again. 

“You can’t stand her and tell me that kiss wasn’t different,” he continued. “stop being so fucking thick for two seconds and you’ll really feel it. I know you feel it. Because if somehow, I feel this goddamn strongly about someone, and they don’t feel a single ounce of something for me, then I must have really fucked up in my past life and deserve to have the perfect girl right between my fingers and feel her break my heart instead. Like, fuck, you know this is different, that this is something that stupid kinds of special. Just let yourself feel it. Let me in, baby. I’m right here. You’re not gonna fall. Nothing is going to break. I’m right here. I’ve got you, if you want me to.” 

Matthew was wrong. You felt the walls you built to keep you from having to put yourself out there, from having to risk anything, start to crack under Matthew’s gaze. His eyes started bouncing from feature to feature on your face, trying to figure out what was going on in your mind since you hadn’t said a word yet. When his baby blues met yours again, the walls broke, and you felt everything. You felt everything he said and somehow, so much more. You grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked his mouth down to yours. He kissed you back instantly, his hands reaching down to the backs of your thighs to pull you up to his height. Your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands moved to your torso, yanking at his new favorite piece of clothing you owned to get under it and feel your skin under his palms. 

You broke the kiss to breathe. His mouth moved to your neck as you tangled your fingers in his curls. 

“I’m going to fuck you and you’re going to wear this while I do it,” Matthew breathed out against your neck with a faint tug of the jersey, “if that’s alright with you.”

“Little aggressive,” you told him with a tug of his curls. Matthew pulled you away from the wall, switching to support your weight so he could start walking you towards his room.

“Oh, shut up, would you?” Matthew laughed against your skin. “If you actually have objections, fine, but the peanut gallery is closed for anything other than curse words and my name for the next few hours, okay?” 

“Whatever you say, Tkachuk.” 

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fire and Light (ao3) - on tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

- Chapter 7 -

There was an incident at the Cloud Recesses.

Nie Mingjue offered to go deal with it, and Wen Ruohan was so busy laughing at the sheer absurdity of the idea that he allowed Wen Xu to go in his stead, which was what they had all been hoping for. Nie Huaisang had come up with the idea of the staggered offer; he was surprisingly adept at predicting how Wen Ruohan would behave, which secretly worried Nie Mingjue more than a little.

(The plan did result in a few more ���walks’, Wen Ruohan being temporarily reminded of Nie Mingjue’s existence, and Nie Huaisang was so upset by that side-effect that he wanted to resign from making any more plans in the future. That wasn’t plausible, of course, given where they lived, but Nie Mingjue would happily suffer a little if it meant that his little brother wouldn’t turn too scheming as a result of his success.)

Wen Xu returned a while later with a letter in his hand and a twitch in his eye that refused to go away for a while. He was of a nervous disposition, whether naturally or because of how he was raised, and his anxiety was only made worse by stress – the Nightless City, unfortunately, being full of stress. Wen Qing said that he used to be cruel and vicious, obtaining relief from his own pain only by hurting others; she said, with a little too much perspicuity given her age, that it was the inevitable result of his having found out long ago that there was no consequence to his actions and, moreover, that his meanness was the only quality of his of which his father seemed to approve. Nie Mingjue hadn’t seen much of that, except maybe for some arrogance in the beginning, but Wen Qing had rolled her eyes at him when he said as much, saying that of course he hadn’t seen it, it’d been different ever since Nie Mingjue showed up.

Why that made a difference, Nie Mingjue had no idea. He hadn’t done anything, or at least he hadn’t done it intentionally.

“What happened?” he asked. “Is –”

“A-Chao is fine, no thanks to Wen Zhuliu,” Wen Xu said, grinding his teeth in a way that would probably hurt his jaw and require copious amounts of Wen Ning’s medicinal soup later to ease the soreness and strain. “We were right about him trying to get A-Chao kicked out of the Cloud Recesses and dependent on him.”

“More brothels?”

“I wish. A-Chao has been refusing to go to them –”

According to the letters Nie Mingjue has seen from both Wen Chao himself and Lan Xichen, his reaction has been to all but burst into tears at the very thought – Wen Xu’s impassioned speech had apparently made a rather large dent in his impressionable psyche. He wouldn’t even risk walking thought a red-light district at night out of concern that he might succumb to some previously unknown predatory instinct and then die horribly as a consequence.

“– so Wen Zhuliu, shall we say, creatively interpreted his refusal into being a fear of disease.”

“I mean, it is a fear of disease,” Wen Qing said dryly. “Disease is how you scared him. With the information from my books, no less.”

“No, you don’t –” Wen Xu waved his hands, looking distressed. More distressed than usual, even. “On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t be talking about this with you lot. You’re all far too young. Mingjue, you understand what I mean?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Nie Mingjue said blankly. “You haven’t even said anything yet.”

“He’s saying that Wen Zhuliu brought A-Chao a girl he could be certain wasn’t diseased,” Nie Huaisang said, his nose wrinkled. “Let me guess, the ‘incident’ in question was A-Chao being accused of rape? Probably someone young?”

“How did you figure that out?” Wen Xu demanded.

“I read a lot of pornography,” Nie Huaisang said. “Some of it involves less savory subjects.”

“Did I know you were reading about less savory subjects?” Nie Mingjue demanded, a little appalled. “Huaisang, everything we said about A-Chao being too young applies to you too, you know –”

“I read it for the art, da-ge. And the insight into what people like when they think other people aren’t looking; it’s surprisingly transferable to the rest of life. Anyway, since you’re here without A-Chao, I take it that he got out of it?”

“When he saw the girl lying in his bed, he remembered all of Mingjue’s scolding,” Wen Xu said. “He immediately ran out to find an adult to assist him. He’d been dosed with something to make him more susceptible - you know what I mean, that sort of thing, but also something to make him dizzy and forgetful, probably so he wouldn’t know for sure if he’d done it or not - but luckily he found a Lan who recognized it.”

“A Lan that knows something about drugs? That’s the most implausible part of everything you’ve said so far.”

Nie Mingjue poked Wen Qing in the forehead for excess cynicism.

“Not only did he know about it, he was able to eliminate the effects while preserving evidence regarding it,” Wen Xu said, sounding begrudgingly impressed. “His testimony of A-Chao’s innocence is rather unimpeachable.”

“What did he do, run to Teacher Lan?” Wen Ning asked, eyes wide. He’d been inexplicably terrified of Lan Qiren ever since they’d met briefly at a discussion conference – apparently Lan Qiren had imparted some wise words and Wen Ning had said something stupid in response, and now he wanted to dig himself into a giant pit any time the man’s name was so much as mentioned.

“Oh no,” Wen Xu said. “That’s the best part of this story, actually. This whole thing happened in the middle of the night, a dark one with barely any moon, and you know how A-Chao is with directions –”

“Tell him something he wants is the next town to the east and he’ll immediately go to the west, south and north before he makes it.”

“He got lost,” Nie Mingjue guessed. “And ended up…where? With who?”

“Qingheng-jun.”

The entire room simultaneously buried their faces in their hands.

“He intruded on Sect Leader Lan’s seclusion,” Nie Huaisang moaned. “The seclusion that’s been going on for nearly twenty years. Because of course he did, that’s our A-Chao for you. Oh, Lan Wangji is going to kill me…”

“You’re still in contact?” Nie Mingjue asked, surprised.

“We exchange letters, it’s no big deal. Tell me more about what happened – did they actually have to get Qingheng-jun to testify?”

“Oh yes, the family made a big stink about it. They wanted to get the girl married in as a concubine or the sect to pay out; they weren’t exactly happy when all the doctors confirmed that she was still pure. They even accused the doctors of being paid off! Lan sect doctors!”

“What did you do with Wen Zhuliu?”

“He claimed he had no idea how it happened. Somehow while also implying that I was being unnecessarily overzealous in A-Chao’s defense, since there’s nothing that unusual about taking a concubine – as if everyone wouldn’t understand it as being all but an outright admission that he was a rapist! I pretended I believed that he wasn’t responsible for the whole thing - he was, of course - and told him that if something like this happened on his watch without his knowledge, he was clearly a piece of shit bodyguard that ought to be replaced.”

“I bet he liked that!”

-

“I want to learn archery,” Wen Ning said.

“You already know archery,” Nie Mingjue said, ruffling his hair. “You’re very good at archery.”

“Not in public I’m not.” Wen Ning firmed up his jaw. “I want to be good enough at archery that I can win honor for the Wen sect when the main competition is archery.”

“That won’t be until the next time we host,” Wen Xu pointed out. “Which is years from now. You’ll be sixteen – no, seventeen by then.”

“Ancient,” Nie Mingjue, who was about that age himself, said solemnly. “Doddering. Almost decrepit. The only thing worse would be if you were twenty and on your way to twenty-one –”

Wen Xu glared.

“I’m serious,” Wen Ning insisted. “Everyone else has a talent. Why not me?”

“All right, then,” Nie Mingjue said, because mentioning how good a cook of medicinal cuisine Wen Ning was would clearly not be appropriate at this juncture. Lots of boys eventually wanted to learn a martial skill, no matter where their real talents might lie. He might have even said all boys, except of course there was always Nie Huaisang to be the glaring exception to the rule. “We’ll adjust your training regime, invite some specialized tutors…”

Wen Ning was shaking his head. “I want to go to the Jiang sect.”

“What?”

“They always win, don’t they? Maybe they lose out on first place to the Lan sect, with their arm strength, or by some fluke to someone else, but if they have a strong contestant, they win, and even when they don’t win they always place. It’s the best place to go learn.” He shrugged. “Anyway, it’s not like I’m going to get invited to the Cloud Recesses.”

Nie Mingjue had half a dozens protests on his lips, and they all died at once. It was true. Wen Ning would not be invited to study at Gusu, possessing neither an exceptional talent for some facet of learning nor a family willing to push him in. Nie Huaisang would go without question on the basis of Lan Qiren’s former friendship with their father, assuming Wen Ruohan would allow it, and Wen Qing, only interested in the study of medicine, had recently started corresponding with various medicine halls and could maybe get an internship somewhere. She’d been talking recently about Lanling, and though he’d objected to that on the basis of Jin Guangshan, the whole world would welcome a promising doctor.

Only Wen Ning would be trapped here, in the Nightless City.

(With Nie Mingjue, who could not leave, because he wasn’t broken enough yet. Who might not ever be, might live and die without ever being allowed out any further than a closely supervised night hunt, like a bird in a cage.)

Nie Mingjue didn’t especially like the idea of staying here in the Nightless City alone, but his own interests had never been as important as those he could protect. Unlike him, Wen Ning had a future, a life of his own, to look forward to, and so Nie Mingjue looked at Wen Xu. “Do you think…?”

Wen Xu made a face. “I’m not sure,” he said, frowning at Wen Ning in a way that Nie Mingjue knew meant something to Qishan Wen minds because of the way that Wen Ning ducked his head in embarrassment. “They don’t normally take outside students the way that the Lan sect does. I guess we could ask, though, using the way the Lan sect blew up as a cover.”

“They’re readjusting,” Nie Mingjue corrected, trying to be diplomatic. “Qingheng-jun was in seclusion for such a long time – it’s a big change for them for him to come out. For his sons, especially.”

He wished that he could write to Lan Xichen. Not because he had something intelligent to say about it, but more so that he could listen to all the emotions Lan Xichen was undoubtedly trying to suppress – Nie Mingjue couldn’t imagine how he must be feeling. His father, locked away for so long so as to be little more than a myth, suddenly and abruptly brought back to life –

Perhaps it was better that they didn’t write. Given what had happened to Nie Mingjue’s own father, Lan Xichen would probably refrain from saying anything at all.

“In other words, they blew up,” Wen Xu said dryly. “I’ll write to the Jiang sect and make some inquiries, not naming any names. If we get their approval, we can figure out how best to petition Father. He’ll like that angle, though; winning honor…Huaisang came up with that, did he?”

Nie Mingjue was going to protest, but Wen Ning nodded.

“I figured. We’re still going to adjust your schedule, start getting you ready – we need to make it believable.”

“Why does it have to be believable if it’s true?” Nie Mingjue asked, looking from one to the other. “Why would A-Ning do something if he doesn’t want to do it?”

“I do want to do it!” Wen Ning exclaimed, his little face red but determined. “I want to do it really badly, Mingjue-ge. Really.”

“All right, then,” Nie Mingjue said, convinced despite his suspicion that they were up to something – but then, they were always up to something, and he was usually not included.

For very good reason, and at his own request.

“All right,” he said again. “If you want it, then we’ll find a way.”

-

“Tell me everything you know,” Wen Ruohan murmured. “And it can stop.”

For today, he meant. A fool’s promise, false gold, worthless – meaning nothing.

Nie Mingjue talked anyway.

-

Wen Chao arrived home from the Cloud Recesses, to everyone’s joy, and even managed, with some hurrying, to make it back a week before Wen Ning was scheduled to set out.

“I brought wine for everyone!” he announced.

“You did not,” Nie Mingjue said sternly, though he wasn’t quite able to stop himself from smiling.

“Okay, okay, I got gifts for everyone. But I also brought wine, if you want some – it’s called Emperor’s Smile, you’ll like it –”

“Forget the wine,” Nie Mingjue said. “You’ve grown!”

He had – at least half a hand’s worth, and his face was starting to show the curves of adulthood, despite the considerable baby fat remaining.  

“I’ve grown?” Wen Chao laughed. “Look who’s talking!”

Everyone laughed, even Nie Mingjue, who ducked his head – it wasn’t his fault that he kept on growing. His father had been especially tall, and his mother even more so; it was to be expected!

Admittedly, it wouldn’t hurt to start slowing down a little. Any time now.

“Yes, well, I grow any more and your father will chop me off at the ankles,” he said, shaking his head. Wen Ruohan seemed torn between pleasure at having such a hulking beast tamed at his feet – his words – and irritation that Nie Mingjue would shortly be able to look down at him. “Tell us about your studies, A-Chao. Did you make any friends?”

“Did you pass?” Nie Huaisang asked.

“Of course I passed! And I only cheated once –”

Nie Mingjue covered his eyes and groaned dramatically.

“When I go, I’m going to cheat all the time,” Nie Huaisang announced.

Nie Mingjue aimed for an even more dramatic groan.

“And you probably won’t pass even if you do,” Wen Qing put in.

Now it was Nie Huaisang’s turn to moan. “Has anyone ever told you that your tongue is as sharp and piercing as your needles, A-Qing?”

“No. You want me to demonstrate why?”

“Help! Help! Have mercy!”