#but it was a very rough delivery. she was pushing for about six hours before the baby's vitals started dipping

[captainjonnitkessler]

How could ao3 abandon me in this, my hour of greatest need

[miekasa]

your dad!levi headcanons made my day. would you happen to have any thoughts about dad!eren?🥺

Unfortunately... I do 🤒🤒 he’d be such a determined but fun dad, like I don’t think he'd be completely lax, but he's not an authoritarian either, but he definitely butts heads with his kids when they get a little older and more rambunctious, and you gotta remind him to be patient with them because... because they're exactly how he was when he was 8 😭😭

He was stupid excited when he found out you were gonna have kids. Like, way more excited than you thought he’d be; you’ve maybe mentioned kids in passing or casually, and he was never negative about the prospect of them, but he had never shown this level of excitement before.

He gets even more excited when you find out you’re having twins. And then reality hits him that you’re having twins. That means two of them. At the same time. Yeah, he might have been excited about one, but two... the whole dad thing really kicks in right there. 

He has this period of time where he’s definitely still supporting you and being positive throughout your pregnancy, but then he’ll lay awake at night scared shitless of the fact that he’s gotta raise two kids. He starts freaking out so bad, Mikasa has to slap some sense into him. 

He’s losing it one night at her place, completely having a downward spiral of doubt and anxiety, going off about what ifs and how maybe you’d be better with someone else being a dad to them and Mika literally slaps him to shut him up. “You are going to be a dad to those kids, and you’re gonna be a good one, too, Eren. Nobody’s saying you won’t fuck up, but you’ll have help along the way.” 

He feels better after that (his cheek hurts like hell for two days tho), and the reassurance from Mikasa and you really does help, and he’s back on track to bouncing off the walls about having kids. 

Obsessed with the concept of baby clothes (“Babe, are they really gonna be this tiny??”), but he doesn’t understand the sizing of them. Is there really that big of a difference between four month olds and ten month olds?? He hasn’t grown that much in six months, why would they?? 

Don’t even get him started on baby shoes, he thinks those are completely ridiculous: “Their toes are gonna be the size of my pupils, why would we put shoes on them?? That’s dumb, we’ll just get those fuzzy socks to keep em warm when they’re cold, I don’t wanna squash their growing toes.” 

He cries when he holds them for the first time, because, they are, predictably, tiny. Tinier that he ever could have thought imaginable; he can hold is son and his daughter with one hand each and it’s an incredibly tender and heartwarming and humbling thing to him. 

He literally cried more than you throughout the whole delivery, too. He was a complete emotional wreck; happy and jittery one moment, anxious and nervous the next, crying no matter what, and yeah, he might have passed out once or twice, but don’t mention it. 

Gives the twins a “house tour” when you take them home from the hospital, narrating it every bit of the way. He holds them both to his chest, slowly parading around your house like, “And this is the kitchen, and this is the fridge where we keep your baby mush. It tastes bad, I tried it, but hopefully you’ll like it.” 

Your daughter looks like you, but also like Carla; and your son has damn near all of Eren’s features, and they both got his green eyes (lucky them). Eren is obsessed, and loves playing peek-a-boo with them. 

When his paternity leave is up, he figured he’d go back to work first and leave you at home with the kids to give you more time to rest and let your body have more time to adjust after giving birth. Half-way through his first day back, he calls out early under the pretenses of being sick because he misses you guys that much. 

He calls out sick for the remainder of the week too, and finally by Friday he sits down with you and is like, “I know we said I would go back to work first but I don’t think I can do it, babe. I wanna stay and hang out with them all day before they’re too big and have to go to school.”

And that, is essentially, how Eren comes to the conclusion that he wants to be a stay at home dad. It doesn’t surprise you, or anyone really, it was only a surprise to himself; but it was a surprise to him that nobody else was surprised. 

“What do you guys mean you ‘saw this coming?’” he questions you, Mikasa, and Armin sporadically, “I could have gone back to work if I wanted to!!” To which, you look around at his friends, before Armin finally speaks up, a slight roll to his eyes, “Eren, you can hardly leave them with me or Mikasa for two hours. How did you expect to make it through the work day.”

When they get a bit older, he’s the champ of playing games with them. Acts out the most dramatic “deaths” when he gets shot by a Nerf gun, becomes the most convincing doctor when playing fake hospital, and has learned a pretty damn impressive Mickey Mouse impression to entertain them. 

It’s your daughter that turns out to get most of Eren’s... determined personality. She might only be three years old, but she can argue with him as if she graduated from law school, and swears he never wins with her. How could he; it’s like arguing with himself, please they both stomp away and have to cool down after. 

They make up pretty quick tho, because Eren hates it when they’re mad in general, much less mad at him or you; and he sulks to you, borderline whining about how he doesn’t want her to hate him. You reassure him that she does not hate him, she’s just... feisty like he is. 

It’s her twin brother that consoles and calms her down, because he’s the more tame of the two. By the time Eren’s knocking on the door to their room to talk it out and apologize, she’s already knocked out, leaning up against her brother as they both take a nap. (It’s a sight that could bring him to tears, and he slowly closes the door and goes to cuddle up to you, while he waits for them to finish napping). 

He absolutely loves to lift them up, and even has they get bigger, he insists they’ll never be too big for him to hold them. Both he and the twins get a kick out of having them hang off his arms while he spins around in a circle like a little human sprinkler. 

Family picnics and/or beach days happen often, and more often than not, it ends up with Eren and the kids coercing (see: pulling) you to the water or to play with them.

By the end of the day, Eren’s laying on the blanket lazily eating a sandwich hich you’d packed earlier, with his son sat criss-cross on his stomach. He teases him by airplaining the sandwich near his mouth, only to take a bite of it himself after, because he adores the betrayed exclaimation of “Daddy! No fair!” Eren’s always sure to give him a bite for real after, and a little kiss on the head to make up for it. 

Your daughter sits in your lap, half-asleep, even tho moments before she was oh-so determined to play volleyball against her dad again (“And I’m gonna win, mommy, watch! Daddy’s tall, but I can win!”)

He lets them draw/color/paint on his back. He’ll just lay down on a blanket in the living room and let them go to town. Face painting, too, though that’s for when they’re a bit older; he learns the hard way that a two year old can have pretty rough hands. 

The complete and utter disappointment and betrayal in his eyes when he hears your son proclaim that he thinks Jean is “cool.” Eren has to take a lap, he can’t believe his own kin would say some shit like that. 

Your daughter loves Mikasa, thinks she’s the absolute best person in the world, and always asks if she can be the one to babysit. They both like Armin, too, but Armin’s gotta stay away from your son for a bit because for whatever reason, his blonde hair is very amusing to him, and the kid’s got a pretty strong grip. (“Stop bullying your Uncle Armin, it’s not his fault he’s blonde.”)

You often catch him doing push ups with either one or both of them on his back, and the kids fucking love it. They’re cheering him on, counting completely out of order about the amount of push-ups he’s done, and clapping every time he comes up again. It becomes his favorite workout. 

He swears they’re his best friends and his favorite people in the entire world. He does everything with them: getting the oil changed in his car, going to the store, picking up the mail. He just loves being around them and swears he’s gonna be the best dad for them. 

[live-the-fangirl-life]

The Last One

The Court - Throne of Glass x FRIENDS - Fic Series

S10, E17/18 : Rowan, after realizing he's still in love with Aelin, chases her down, refusing to let her go. Meanwhile, Elide and Lorcan welcome their baby...or babies, into the world.

Episode chosen for Rowaelin Month 2021. Day 12: Delayed Love Confession

Fic Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Rowaelin Month Masterlist

Warnings: Language, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Birth

7860 words

*******

Rowan woke up to the bed shifting. He cracked an eye open, still cloudy with sleep, and watched Aelin sit on the opposite edge while she pulled her shirt over her head, concealing the bare expanse of her back.

“Hey.” He croaked, voice still rough.

She turned and gave him a soft smile, whispering, “Go back to sleep, I have to go home.”

Rowan wanted nothing more than for Aelin to never leave his bed, but he knew she had things to do so instead he said, “Oh, okay.” He reached a hand across the sheets and grabbed hers, “Last night was amazing.”

She finished putting on one of her shoes and looked back at him with that same soft smile, “It really was.”

Rowan tried to read the emotions that flashed across her face but then she was standing and bending over to draw him into one last kiss. Her palm rested on his cheek while his gently cupped the back of her head before they pulled away. Rowan kept his eyes on Aelin as she left his room and he didn’t fall back onto his pillow until he heard the sound of his apartment door clicking shut behind her.

***

Elide was scared. Scratch that—terrified. Elide was terrified, but she kept her calm as best as she could while she held Asterin’s hand.

Elide had thanked all the gods she could name for Asterin coming into her and Lorcan’s lives. After getting married and enjoying the first few months of bliss, she and Lorcan decided to try having a baby, but after months of negative pregnancy tests and too many doctors visits, they were told it likely would never happen for them. Devastated, they thought through their options and settled on adoption. But even then, they knew it would take some time.

Elide remembered some afternoons spending hours sitting by the phone desperately hoping it would ring and be someone from the adoption agency to tell them they’d been picked. When they’d finally gotten the call and met Asterin, a young woman who was looking for the perfect parents for her baby, they knew it was meant to be.

Now, standing in the delivery room, Elide held Asterin’s hand as the woman powered through another contraction.

“Breathe, breathe, breathe,” Elide coached encouragingly, “good.”

“Are you fully taking over, or do I get to say breathe?” Lorcan asked as he walked to Elide’s side beside the bed.

She scoffed and tilted her head to meet his eyes. “No. Last time, you said it like a sociopath, and it creeped her out.” She turned back towards Asterin who looked tired, “Can I get you anything? Ice chips?”

“No,” Asterin shook her head, “I’m okay.”

Elide nodded and smiled, “Alright, I’ll be right back.”

As she started to walk out of the room, Lorcan’s hand shot out and gripped her elbow, stopping her.

“Where are you going?” He asked. She could almost detect a hint of nerves as he spoke.

Elide raised a brow, “To the bathroom.”

Lorcan lowered his voice so that only Elide could hear. “You can't leave me alone with her.”

“What?” She asked incredulously.

Lorcan ran a hand through his long hair, and now she could definitely see nervousness etched across his face. “This is exactly the kind of social situation that I am not comfortable with” he grumbled.

Elide snorted, “What kind of social situation are you comfortable with?”

He leveled a stare at her. “It's just that we've never spent any time, you know, alone together.”

Elide rolled her eyes at her husband, “You’ll be fine,” she took a step and turned back, giving him a small smirk, “No, you won't, but I'll be back in two minutes.”

Lorcan sighed but grumbled okay.

He walked back over to the woman lying in the hospital bed, trying his best to seem calm, but by the grimace she shot him, he wasn't doing a very good job.

“So, uh,” He grasped for something to say, “any plans for the summer?”

“I don't know, maybe travel? I wanna do some flying again.”

Lorcan hummed, still not sure what to say. If Elide had still been in the room, she’d have laughed at how ridiculous he looked. Standing well above six feet, with his hands fidgeting and swaying on his toes from being so uncomfortable in the moment.

“So, you ever wonder which is worse, you know; going through labor or getting kicked in the nuts?” Lorcan asked the first thing that came to mind and immediately regretted it. He should've just kept his mouth shut.

“What?” Asterin asked, her eyebrows scrunching in disbelief.

“I mean, uh,” He rubbed the back of his neck, “One of life's great, unanswerable questions. I mean, who knows? Maybe there's something even more painful than those things?” Lorcan cringed and suggested, “like this.”

***

Lysandra walked into Fenrys’ apartment to see him holding two small fuzzy animals.

“Good morning,” She said hesitantly.

“Hey!” Fenrys grinned, lifting up the creatures.

“What's that?” Aedion asked, following Lysandra into the room.

Fenrys grinned, “It's my house-warming present for Elide and Lorcan.”

Lysandra and Aedion shared a look.

“It's a baby chick and duck,” Lysandra said, unnecessarily. “You know they’re living in the suburbs right?”

“Uh-huh,” Fenrys nodded, “And I named them Chick Jr. and Duck Jr.”

Aedion snorted, “I didn’t see that coming.”

“Yeah, I figure they'll love it at the new house, you know?” Fenrys set the animals down, “It has that big backyard. And then, when they get old, they can go to that special farm that Lorcan took the other chick and duck to.”

Lysandra raised a brow at Fenrys and hummed, unable to say what she actually wanted to say.

Aedion barely held in a grin as he nodded sagely to Lysandra and mocked, “Yeah. It's a shame people can't visit there.”

Fenrys was cut off as Rowan showed up and joined them in the apartment,

“Guess what?” Lysandra whirled on Rowan, smiling, “we’re almost all aunties and uncles!”

“What?” Rowan asked, confused.

“Yeah,” Fenrys said, “Asterin went into labor last night. Elide and Lorcan are at the hospital right now!”

“Oh, my gods.” Rowan grinned at the thought of a massive Lorcan holding a tiny baby. He shook his head, glancing around, “Is Aelin here?”

Fenrys glanced towards Aelin’s room, “Uh, I think she's still asleep. Hey, how did it go with you guys last night? She seemed pretty pissed at you.”

Rowan couldn’t—wouldn’t—suppress his smile as he thought about the night before. Being with Aelin again was better than he remembered, and he cursed himself for all the time they’d missed out on.

“Yeah, we, uh, we worked things out.”

Lysandra’s eyes widened as she watched him, “What's that smile? Did something happen with you two?”

Rowan chuckled, “Hey, I'm not one to kiss and tell,” then he muttered, “but I'm also not one to have sex and shut up.”

Apparentally, his last words weren't as quiet as he thought.

Aedion groaned, wincing “Dude, that's my cousin.”

Rowan ignored Aedion as Fernys laughed, “Oh my gods, You and Aelin?”

“I know, it's great.” Rowan didn't think his grin could get any wider.

Lysandra hugged him, squealing, “So what does that mean? Are you guys getting back together?”

“I…” He trailed off, frowning. They hadn’t actually talked about it before Aelin had left earlier that morning. “I don't know. We didn't really get to talk about it.”

“But do you wanna get back together?” She pushed.

Rowan didn’t hesitate as he said with certainty, “Yeah, I do. it just felt so right. When I was holding her, I mean, I never wanted to let her go. I want to be together.”

Lysandra, Aedion, and Ferys all had matching smiles as they listened to Rowan.

Then Fenrys spoke up and Rowan felt himself deflate.

“So is she still going to Paris?” He asked, still holding the small animals.

Rowan had been so caught up in the happiness of last night and that morning that he’d completely forgot the reason why he and Aelin had been so emotionally worked up their argument caused the tension to finally snap, leading them to spend the night together.

Aelin had been offered an amazing job. A perfect job. Perfect, except for the fact that it was in Paris and not New York

She'd had said goodbye to each of their friends. Except him. She’d cried and laughed and reminisced with all of them. Except for Rowan.

He’d been so upset, so angry. How could Aelin not have anything to say to him, after all these years, after all they’d been through?

When he’d confronted her, she’d told him, devastated, “If you think I didn't say goodbye to you because you don't mean as much to me as everybody else, you're wrong. It's because you mean more to me.”

He’d stopped her, not needing to hear anymore as he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her in for a searing kiss. She’d been shocked, unprepared for Rowan’s actions. She’d stepped away, searching his face, before pulling him towards her and kissing him again.

Gods, how could he have forgotten that she was leaving?

“Wow, I hadn't thought of that. I hope not.” Rowan didn't know how he would deal with Aelin leaving now. He’d just realized that he still loved her, and now he might lose her. But how could he expect her, or ask her, to stay? What kind of person would that make him? A desperate one? A man in love? Or an overreaching, entitled one who thought he could step in the way of one of the best opportunities she'd ever been given?

He would have to talk to her before he spiraled any further.

“Oh, this is so great!” Lysandra exclaimed, unaware of Rowan’s churning thoughts, “You guys might get back together, Elide and Lorcan are getting their baby, and there are chicks and ducks in the world again!

They all looked towards the sound of a door opening to see Aelin emerge from her room.

“Good morning,” She smiled at them and ignored the pointed looks and wiggling eyebrows of her friends.

“Hey,” Rowan smiled at her.

She walked up to him and greeted him quietly, “Hey.”

“How’d you sleep?”

She smiled, “Good, you?”

He matched her grin, “Good.”

Fenrys snorted, “I bet you did!”

Aelin flipped him off, shooing him, Lysandra, and Aedion away. Once they’d left, Rowan cupped her face and swooped down to kiss her. It felt like coming home.

When they broke apart, they both wore soft smiles.

“Last night was wonderful,” Aelin told him, rubbing a hand down his arm.

“Yeah, it was.”

She kept her eyes on his as she told him, “I woke up today with the biggest smile on my face.”

He tried to keep the satisfaction off his face but failed and she huffed a laugh, rolling her eyes before softening her features again.

“I know, me too,” Rowan told her, moving one thumb to brush along her cheek. “It was...you know, it was like one of those things you think is never gonna happen, and then it does, and it's everything you want it to be.”

She nodded, “I know,” Aelin leaned up to press another soft kiss to his lips before pulling him into a hug to say into his ear, “it was just the perfect way to say goodbye.”

In that moment, at her words, Rowan felt like his heart shattered into a million little pieces.

***

The hospital room buzzed with excitement.

“It's just a little bit more, honey.” Elide held Asterin’s hand as the young woman pushed again.

She sobbed, more in frustration than anything else “Help me! This hurts!”

Lorcan stood a step back and asked, “Is it really that bad?”

Both women glared at him with a ferocity that made him want to be swallowed up by a hole in the ground.

“Yeah,” Asterin answered through gritted teeth, “I think it's time to kick you in the nuts and see which is worse!”

Elide sighed as she was reminded of the words Lorcan reluctantly relayed to her earlier. She looked back at him, “No tact.”

The doctor cleared his throat, drawing all their attention towards him, “The baby's head is crowning.”

“Oh my God!” Elide cried, walking around to see, “That is the most beautiful top of a head I have ever seen! Lorcan, you have to see this!”

Lorcan had never looked more uncomfortable. “I'm okay.”

Elide whirled on him, “Lorcan, you don't wanna miss this. This is the birth of your child!”

His child. The words rang through him and sparked some sense of resolve. He shook himself of his discomfort, outwardly at least, and stepped up behind Elide to see what she was seeing.

“Wow.” He murmured reverently, “Disgusting.”

Elide scoffed but Loracn gripped her shoulders and kissed her forehead.

“Here we go,” The doctor said, glancing back up at Asterin “Start pushing.”

A shill cry broke through the air and Elide and Lorcan watched as the doctor held up a beautiful little baby. When Elide ripped her eyes away from the infant as the nurses cleaned it, she looked up to find Lorcan already staring at her with tears in his eyes. They didn’t have to say anything, they both felt the same overwhelming sense of love.

“It’s a boy.” The doctor said, leaning back and adjusting his gloves.

“A...a boy!” Elide beamed at Lorcan as he stood open-mouthed before showing her the widest smile she’d ever seen on the man.

“A boy.” He breathed.

“Oh, you did it!” Elide went back to Asterin’s head and wiped the sweat from her forehead. She leaned closer to the girl and whispered, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Asterin smiled at them both, “I'm really happy for you guys.”

“How do you feel?” Lorcan asked.

She sighed, “So tired.”

The doctor sat back into position, saying, “Well, you don't have that much time to relax. The other one will be along in a minute.”

The hand Lorcan had been rubbing down Elide’s back froze, as did both of their breathing as they slowly turned to face the doctor with eyebrows up to their hairlines.

“I’m sorry,” Elide said slowly, aware that Lorcan hadn’t resumed breathing yet, “who should be along in a what now?”

The doctor gave them a weird look, “The next baby should be along in a minute.”

“One.” Lorcan finally regained his ability to speak. “One baby. We signed up for one baby.”

“You know it's twins, right?” The doctor asked slowly

Elide laughed hysterically, “Oh, yeah! These are the faces of two people in the know!”

“I…” The doctor trailed off, “I can't believe you didn't know it's twins! This has never happened before.”

“Oh wow,” Loracn snorted incredulously, “That makes me feel so much better.” He ran an agitated hand through his hair.

“Wait,” Elide faced the doctor, “did you know it was twins?”

He nodded slowly, “Yeah, it's here in the paperwork we got from the clinic.”

Elide then spun around to Asterin, “Anybody tell you?”

Asterin furrowed her brows, “I don't think so. Not explicitly.” she insisted. “they did mention something about two heartbeats. But I thought that was just mine and the baby's. They kept saying both heartbeats are really strong, and I thought well, that's good 'cause I'm having a baby.”

Elide let out a shaky breath trying to wrap her mind around what was happening. “This is unbelievable.”

Lorcan gripped Elide’s arm and tugged into the corner of the room. “Can I see you for a second?”

Elide had never in her life seen Lorcan look more unsure of what to do. His hands were shaky as he gripped hers. “What do we do?”

She took a deep breath and looked directly into his eyes. “What do you mean what do we do?”

“Twins.” He stated urgently, “Twins!”

Seeing Lorcan so frazzled oddly calmed Elide down. “Lorcan, you’re panicking.”

“I sure as fuck am, join me!”

She cracked a half-smile, “Lorcan, take a breath, it’s going to be okay.”

“Elide, we are not ready to have two babies!” his eyes were still wide in shock and fear.

“That doesn’t matter!” she hissed, grabbing his arms and making him focus on her. “We have waited so long for this. I don't care if it's two babies. I don't care if it's three babies! We are taking them home because they are our children!”

Lorcan’s face softened and she watched as a steady resolve found its way across his face and through his body. They took a breath together and he pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead gently. When he pulled away, he had a small smile reserved only for her. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she repeated, her arms still wrapped around him.

“Okay.”

“Okay!”

“Okay!” he laughed, and this time it wasn’t fear clouding the sound, but joy.

“It looks like we're about ready over here.” the doctor called, and Elide and Lorcan walked back towards Asterin.

When another cry sounded, the doctor lifted the second baby, declaring, “It’s a girl.”

“A girl?” Lorcan asked quietly, a smile growing.

“Indeed.” The doctor replied, passing her to be cleaned up.

Spinning towards Elide, Lorcan said excitedly, “Well now we have two different ones!” then he whirled back to the doctor and put on his stoniest glare, “And that's enough!”

***

Lysandra, Aedion, Fenrys, and Rowan sat in the coffee house, Cadre Coffee, as Rowan told them what Aelin had said earlier.

“And then she hugged me and said it was the perfect way to say goodbye.” Even repeating it now, felt like chewing on broken glass.

“What did you say?” Fenrys pried.

Rowan sputtered, “Nothing. What do you say to that?” What could he say to that?

“Rowan,” Lysandra pleaded, “you've got to tell her how you feel.”

“I can’t do that to her.” He sighed, defeated. “I can’t lay that on her right before she’s supposed to leave.”

“Rowan,” Aedion leaned forward, making sure he held the silver-haired man’s attention, “Aelin doesn't know that you wanna get back together. If she did, she might feel differently. She might not even go.”

“You really think so?” he asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

Just then, Aelin breezed into the coffee shop.

“Hi, guys!” She waved before walking up the counter.

Rowan watched her a moment. “Alright, you know what? You're right. I should at least tell her how I feel.” He could do that. He had to do that.

"Rowan, wait!" Fenrys called from behind him.

Rowan spun around, "What?"

Fenrys grinned, "Can you get me a muffin?"

Rowan gave him a one-finger response and took a step towards Aelin.

“Aelin?” Nox, the barista who’d worked at the coffee house for as long as any of them could remember, got her attention.

“Yeah?”

“I know you’re leaving tonight, but I just have to tell you. I love you.”

Rowan stood frozen in place, mouth open, as he watched the scene unfold.

“I... I don't know if that changes your plans at all, but I thought you should know.” Nox nodded earnestly.

“Nox, Oh,” She placed a hand on his shoulder, “I love you too. Probably not in the same way, but I do. And, and when I'm in a café, having coffee, I'll think of you.” She kissed his cheek before waving towards the group and leaving the coffee house.

Rowan sat down, meeting the shocked gazes of his friends. “Oh, my gods!”

Lysandra snorted, “Unbelievable!”

"Hey," Fenrys leaned forward, "you know what might help?"

Rowan glared at him and scoffed, "I'm not getting you a muffin!"

***

“We're going to take Asterin to recovery now.” The nurse told Elide and Lorcan as they each held one of their babies.

“Oh wait,” Elide caught Asterin’s hand, “There's something that we want to tell you. We decided to name the girl-baby Asterin.”

She smiled, “Oh, that’s just like my name!”

Elide held in a laugh. It was clear Asterin was either still on some medications or just very, very tired.

“Okay,” the blonde woman said, “I'm gonna go and get some rest. I'm really glad I picked you guys. You're gonna make great parents. Even Lorcan.”

Despite his eye roll, Elide saw the pride and gratitude in Lorcan’s eyes.

“Bye, Asterin.” Elide called as she was pushed out of the delivery room.

“Bye.”

Moving closer to Lorcan, Elide cooed, “Oh look at all their teeny fingers and toes.”

“I know,” he smiled widely, making him look younger, “You ready to trade?”

“Okay!” They tried maneuvering a few different ways but eventually gave up. Switching babies when you only have two hands is not an easy feat. “Alright, let’s see…”

“Maybe later?” he suggested.

“Perfect.”

***

At Elide and Lorcan’s apartment, Lysandra found Fenrys hunched over the coffee table.

“Hey, what are you working on?” She asked, walking into the living room.

He grinned, “It’s a ‘Welcome Home’ sign for the baby.” He held up the large sign which read Welcome Home Baby in red paint beside a funky-shaped red blob.

“Uh,” Lysandra squinted, “Is that supposed to be the baby?”

Fenrys rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “No, I sat in the paint.”

She snorted just as Rowan walked in.

“Hey,” He nodded at them.

“Hey, so did you talk to Aelin?” Lysandra asked.

Rowan ran his hand through his hair and sighed, “No, and I'm not going to.”

“What?” Lysandra asked incredulously at the same time Fenrys jumped up and asked, “Why not?”

Rowan dropped into a seat at the kitchen table. “Because she's just going to shoot me down. You guys saw what happened with Nox.”

Lysandra scoffed and lightly hit him upside the head. “How can you compare yourself to Nox? I mean, sure, he's sexy in a more obvious way.” She smirked as Rowan glared. “You have a relationship with her, you slept together last night. For gods’ sake, you’re Rowan and Aelin! You’re Rowaelin!”

Rowan huffed, standing up, and told her harshly, “Yeah, and she still wants to go! It's pretty clear where her head is at.” He sighed, shoulders slumping. “Look, even if I were going to tell her, I don't have to do it now. Okay? I'll be seeing her again. We've got time.”

“Gods, Rowan!” Lysandra tried to make him see reason. “No, you don't! She's going to Paris! She is going to meet somebody. Do you know how many hot guys there are in Paris?”

The door opened before Rowan could get another word in and Aedion strode in carrying a rolled-up paper.

“Hey,” He said as he walked over to Lysandra to kiss her before setting the paper on the table.

“Hey, babe,” Lysandra smiled. “Whatcha got?”

“Oh,” Aedion brightened and unrolled the piece of paper. “I made a little something. If I had more time to work on it, it'd be better, but.” He shrugged, revealing a precisely drawn sign reading Welcome to the World, Baby Lochan.

“Damn, Ashryver,” Rowan nodded appreciatively “that’s really good.”

Fenrys scoffed, still standing next to his sign, and rolled his eyes, grumbling, “You know, the baby can't read, Aedion.”

Lysandra laughed as Aelin opened the door and strode in.

“Hi. You guys, my car just got here,” she said dejectedly. “I can't believe they're not home yet! I have to catch my stupid plane. I wanna see the baby!”

Fenrys spoke up, “Elide called a few minutes ago from the car. She said they should be here any minute. And apparently, there's some big surprise?”

As if on cue, Elide carefully pushed the door open and stepped inside carrying a small baby.

Aelin couldn’t hold in her gasp and none of them tried to hide the misting in their eyes.

“Oh, my gods!” Aelin beamed as she walked to Elide, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“Oh, El!” Lysandra gushed, rushing forward.

“So tiny,” Rowan murmured, coming up next to Elide as Fernys and Aedion joined the small group, too.

They turned as they heard another set of footsteps enter, turning to see Lorcan walk in carrying his own small bundle.

“Oh!”

“What the—”

“What?”

“Oh, my gods!”

“Holy sh—”

Five different exclamations happened simultaneously as all their eyes darted between the two babies.

Rowan shook himself and clasped Lorcan on the shoulder, “Okay, awkward question. The hospital knows you took two, right?”

Lorcan glared at Rowan but neither man could keep the grins off their faces as they looked down at the infants.

“Yes, Whitethorn, it’s twins.”

“They’re precious,” Lysandra cooed, making funny faces at the one in Elide’s arms. Aelin, having said hello to that baby, stepped next to Rowan to gaze down at the one Lorcan held.

“This is a boy,” Elide told them, gesturing to the one she held. “And that’s a girl,” she nodded to Lorcan’s.

“Her name is Asterin,” Lorcan told them, not looking away from his daughter’s face.

“Oh, hey, that pregnant lady’s name was Asterin.” Fenrys nodded.

Aedion snorted, “It’s a shame you two didn’t spend more time together.”

Aelin aww’d and patted Lorcan’s arm, the two of them sharing a rare, warm smile.

“The boy we named Cal, after my dad.”

“Oh, you guys,” Aelin whined, “I can't believe this. But I have to leave now, or I'm gonna miss my plane."

“I’m just so glad you got to meet them,” Elide said, watery, pulling Aelin into a hug.

“Me, too,” Aelin told her. “I'm just sorry I'm not gonna be around to watch you two attempt to handle this! Alright, I can't say goodbye to you guys again. I love you all so much.”

I love yous were exchanged and Aelin walked to the door.

“Rowan?” She caught his eye, “come here.”

He nodded and followed her into the hall, shutting the apartment door behind him.

“Rowan, I,” She paused, grabbing his hands and looking into his face with such genuine sadness it made his heart crack and made him want to pull her into his arms and not let go. She took a breath and continued, “I just want you to know, last night...I'll never forget it.”

He cleared his throat, willing the lump in it to disappear. “Neither will I.”

He cupped her cheek and she leaned into the touch. Aelin pulled him in for a hug, holding on tight. When she pulled away, Rowan used every ounce of strength to unwrap his arms from her body, to step away as she walked down the hall and away from him.

When Rowan walked back into the apartment, Lysandra sat next to him and asked, “So, you just let her go?”

Rowan couldn’t reply, he just replayed the last two days over in his head.

“Maybe that's for the best.” Fenrys chimed in, taking up the empty chair. “You know? You just... Look, you gotta... You gotta think about last night the way she does, okay? Maybe sleeping together was the perfect way to say goodbye?"

Lysandra groaned, “But now she'll never know how he feels!”

Aedion walked over and said not unkindly, “Maybe that's okay. You know? Maybe, maybe it’s better this way? I mean, now you can move on. I mean, you've been trying to for so long, maybe now that you're on different continents…”

They kept talking but all Rowan could hear was a buzzing in his head.

“I don’t want to move on.”

He said it quietly but they all stopped talking and looked at him.

“What?” Aedion asked, unsure he heard Rowan correctly.

“I don’t.” Rowan shook his head and stood up. “I want to be with her.”

“Really?” Fenrys asked, excitedly

“Of course really!” Lysandra answered for him.

Rowan kept nodding. “Yeah, I’m gonna go after her. I have to.”

“Yeah, you are!” Lorcan cheered from the living room. Rowan didn’t even have time to find his friend’s enthusiasm funny.

“Finally!” Elide added her own cheer, smiling between Rowan and the babies.

“Come on,” Lysandra urged, standing up and following Rowan to the door. “My car’s downstairs, I’ll drive you to the airport.”

“Okay!” Rowan faced his friends again, “wish me luck!”

A chorus of Good Lucks followed him out the door.

***

“Hey,” Fenrys called excitedly to Lorcan and Eide once Rowan and Lysandra had left, “can I give you guys your house-warming present now?”

The couple shared an amused look before Elide told him, “Now, that you can do.”

“Great! Hang on a minute.” Fenrys left their apartment to walk across the hall to his.

“Okay, my little feather babies where are you?” he muttered as he caught sight of the empty box he’d put them in earlier. “Oh shit.”

He hastily looked in the kitchen, living room, and bedrooms. “Chick Jr? Duck Jr?” he called, running a hand through his hair anxiously. “Don’t hide from mama!”

***

“Lysandra, slow down!” Rowan urged as they almost took out a bicyclist.

She rolled her eyes, “Do you wanna get to Aelin in time?

“Of course I do, but I want to be alive to do it.”

Lysandra huffed at his dramatics but eased up on the gas. Slightly.

Finally arriving at the airport, Rowan and Lysandra rushed past the hoards of people, trying to maneuver their way towards Aelin.

“Rowan!” Lysandra called as he made to run down the hallway. “Where are you going?”

“To talk to Aelin.” Obviously.

“What?” She grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the ticket counter. “What, are you just gonna walk up to her at the gate? Have you never chased anyone through the airport before?”

“Not since the last time I chased the love of my life—no I haven’t Lys!”

She rolled her eyes as she kept dragging him away from the terminals. “You have to get a ticket to get past security, Idiot.”

Oh, right.

“Shit, we’re never gonna make it.” he hissed as they got caught behind the human embodiments of snails on their way to the counter.

***

“Miss, your boarding pass, please.” The gate attendant asked Aelin as she approached.

“Right, of course.” She dug through her purse then frowned, not seeing it. Flashing an apologetic smile to the people behind her, she took her purse off her shoulder and rummaged through it frantically. “Shit, shit, shit.”

The attendant cleared his throat. “Your boarding pass.”

Internally cringing, she put on her most charming smile. “You know, I had it,” she forced a chuckle, “Oh, you wouldn’t believe this—”

He looked unimpressed. “Miss, if you don't have your boarding pass—”

“I have it, I have it! Okay, I don’t have it, but I remember that I was in seat 32C,” she leaned in closer and winked, “because that’s my bra size.”

He sighed again. “Miss, you must have your boarding pass.”

Aelin huffed and stepped out of the line. “Okay, fine! But you know what? If I was in 36D, we would not be having this problem.”

Muttering to herself, Aelin scoured all her bags, finally brandishing the ticket and rushing back to the counter. “Here it is!”

***

Finally getting up to the ticket counter, Rowan slammed down his wallet, demanding, “I need a ticket.”

Lysandra pouted. “Just one? I drive you all the way down here, and I don't get to see how it works out?”

“Fine, fine,” he corrected irritatedly, “two tickets, I need two tickets.”

Lysandra sighed dramatically and leaned into Rowan, giving him her most overexaggerated doe-eyes. “We're on our honeymoon” she stage-whispered to the woman behind the computer.

The ticket agent merely raised a manicured brow and asked, “Destination?”

Rowan already had his credit card ready, “whatever’s cheapest.”

Lysandra sighed again, “I’m so lucky.”

Rowan leveled a glare at her and she tried not to laugh.

Once inside the terminal, Rowan sprinted toward the first departure timetable he could find. “Okay, flight 421 to Paris. I don't see it, do you see it?”

Lysandra stood next to him, eyes scanning the board. “No, did we miss it?”

“No, no, no. That's impossible,” Rowan told her. “It doesn't leave for another 20 minutes.”

“Maybe we have the flight number wrong? Hang on, let me call Elide.”

She stepped aside, impatiently waiting for Elide to pick up her phone.

“Hello?” the new mom answered.

“Hey! It’s me. Here’s Rowan.” Then she thrust the phone into Rowan’s hand.

“Elide, do you—”

“Oh, my gods, Rowan, wait until you hear the cute little noises the twins are making. Listen.”

“What? No, Elide.” Rowan cursed as he heard unintelligible baby sounds. “Elide, Elide, Elide, Elide—”

“Oh sorry,” she said, “They were doing it before.”

“Elide! Listen, please. I need Aelin’s flight information.”

“Oh, sure, hang on.” he could hear ruffling paper as he paced back and forth. “Here it is, it's flight 421. Leaves at 8:40.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, its not on the board.

“Flight 421,” Elide repeated, ��leaves at 8:40, Newark airport.”

Rowan froze, his heart sinking. “What?”

“Newark airport.” Elide gasped. “Where are you?”

But she already knew the answer.

“JFK.” he breathed, utterly defeated.

***

If Rowan wasn’t so upset, he would be fearing for his life as Lysandra sped through the streets at breakneck speed.

“Lysandra, forget it, okay? Newark is like an hour away. There's no way we're gonna make it in time.”

“She’s got her phone,” Lysandra braved a glance at him, narrowly avoiding another car, "you could call her.”

Rowan scoffed, “I am not doing this over the phone.”

“You don’t have any other choice!” She insisted before reaching for her own phone and calling Aelin.

It rang once. Twice.

“Hello? Lys?” Aelin’s voice rings out from the speaker and it was like a tether Rowan desperately wanted to hold onto.

“Aelin?” Lysandra answered, relieved. “oh, good. Hey, by the way, did you just get on the plane?”

“Yeah, I did.”

Leaning over, Lysandra hissed, “For what it's worth, we would have caught her if we were at the right airport.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic.” Rowan sniped.

“Uh, Ae, hang on,” she tried pushing the phone into Rowan’s hand but he adamantly refused to do this without being able to look Aelin in the eye.

“Lys? Is everything okay?” Aelin asked, worriedly.

Glaring at Rowan, Lysandra struggled to find a reason for calling. “Uhm, actually no. No, you've...you have to get off the plane.”

“What? Why?” Aelin sounded bewildered.

“I just,” Lysandra sighed, shooting another glare at Rowan, “I have this feeling that something's wrong with it. Something is wrong with the, uh,” she paused again before snapping her fingers and declaring, “with the left phalange.”

“Lys, babe, I'm sure there's nothing wrong with the plane. Look, I have to go. I love you, and I will call you the minute I get to Paris.”

***

On the plane, Aelin hung up the phone only to feel the man beside her tap insistently on her shoulder.

“What was that?” he asked, looking anxious.

“Oh,” Aelin waved a hand dismissively, “that was just my friend. She told me I should get off the plane because she had a feeling that there was something wrong with the left phalange.” She chuckled, sure it was just Lysandra’s way of finding an excuse to talk to her again before the flight took off.

But the man started to fidget. “Okay, that doesn't sound good.”

“I wouldn't worry about it.” Aelin again waved him off, “She's always coming up with stuff like this, and you know what? She's almost never right.”

“But she is sometimes?”

“Well…” Aelin trailed off, thinking about all the things Lysandra has had an intuition about.

Her hesitation was apparently enough to send her seatmate into a tail-spin because he instantly got up and tried to grab his suitcase, only for the flight attendant to stop him.

“Excuse me, sir, where are you going?” The woman asked, curtly.

“I have to get off this plane, okay?” he insisted, then gestured towards a wide-eyed Aelin. “Her friend has a feeling something's wrong with the left phalange.”

He said it loud enough that other passengers began to panic, while Aelin sheepishly shrugged at the annoyed flight attendant.

“There is nothing wrong with the plane, sir.”

He finally got his bag down and cried, “The left phalange!”

The attendant looked incredulously between the man and Aelin, “There is no phalange.”

“Oh my God. This plane doesn't even have a phalange!”

Aelin watched, wincing, as more passengers overheard and insisted they, too, get off the plane. Person after person marched out the aisle and soon Aelin loosed a long breath, “This is ridiculous,” she watched another two people leave. “Yeah, okay.”

Grabbing her own bag, she followed the crowd off the plane.

***

Rowan doubted he’d ever felt as frantic or desperate as he did right now.

He and Lysandra finally made it to Newark, bought another ticket, and raced to Aelin’s gate.

“Where is she?” He muttered, almost pulling out his hair with how forcefully he raked his hands through it.

“I don't see her,” Lysandra answered.

“Aelin!” Rowan shouted, not caring about the stares he garnered. “Aelin Galthynius!”

“Oh!” Lysandra gasped, pointing towards a crowd, “There she is!”

“Aelin!” He yelled again, pushing past people as he tried to run onto the boarding gate.

“Woah,” the gate attendant stopped Rowan, “excuse me, sir, do you have a boarding pass?”

“I just need to talk to someone,” he pleaded.

“I’m sorry, you cannot go any further without a boarding pass.”

“Gods, please, I just need—”

“AELIN!” Lysandra shrieked, getting everyone’s attention including a specific blonde who rushed back out the gate and stood gaping at Lysandra and Rowan.

“Oh my gods,” she looked back and forth between the two before her gaze locked and held with Rowan’s as she breathed, “What—what are you guys doing here?”

“All you,” Lysandra nudged Rowan then made herself scarce

“What? What is it?” Aelin demanded, pulling Rowan aside, “Rowan, you're scaring me. What's going on?”

“Aelin,” Rowan didn’t know where to start. “Okay, the thing is,” he trailed off again. How could he tell that he loved her? How could he wrap up ten years—more than that—of falling in love with her, even at times when he didn’t know it. How could he explain that to her?

“Rowan?”

He took a deep breath. “Don’t go.”

“What?” Aelin asked, shocked.

“Aelin, please, don’t leave. I am so gods damn in love with you. Please, don’t go.”

Aelin stood open-mouthed, her eyes shimmering with an emotion he didn’t dare name. “Oh, my gods.”

He groaned, “I know, I know. I’m an idiot and a bastard, and any other name you want to call me. I shouldn't have waited until now to say it, Hellas, I shouldn’t have waited until now to realize it, but,” he shook his head, locking his gaze with hers. “That was stupid, okay? I'm sorry, I’m so sorry, but I'm telling you now. I love you. I’m in love with you. Please, do not get on this plane.”

“Miss?” a throat cleared behind them, making Aelin blink and drag her watery eyes away from his. “Are you boarding the plane?”

“Aelin,” Rowan took her hand, urging her to stay, “Aelin, please. I know you love me, too. I know you do. Don’t go. Stay.”

“I,” Aelin looked between Rowan and the gate attendant with shock and regret etched across her face. “I have to get the plane,” she whispered.

“No, you don’t.” Rowan held tightly to her hand.

“Yes, I do.” despite her protests, she didn’t pull her hand away.

“No,” Rowan stepped closer, cupping her cheek and reveling in the fact that she leaned into his touch. “You don’t.”

“Rowan,” her words barely louder than a breath, “They're waiting for me, I can't do this right now, I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”

He couldn’t understand what was happening. Rowan couldn’t accept that she was walking away.

“Aelin.” he pleaded, one final time.

She took a shuddering breath. “I’m so sorry.”

Rowan stood unmoving, felt his breathing freeze and his heart cease beating if just for a moment as he watched Aelin walk away from him and board the plane.

He wasn’t aware of people moving around him or of Lysandra coming to stand next to him before pulling him into a hug murmuring I’m sorry. He wasn’t aware of his surroundings as he walked towards Lysandra’s car or his walk back to his apartment. All he knew was that he’d just watched the love of his life walk away and there would soon be an ocean between them.

***

Lorcan sealed the last box of his and Elide’s things.

“Wow,” Elide sighed, looking around the bare apartment. “Everything’s packed.”

“It’s weird,” Lorcan replied, looking around the space he and their friends had occupied for so many years.

“I know.” She stood on her toes and he leaned down to meet her for a kiss.

“So, uh,” Fenrys spoke up from the kitchen, “does this mean there's nothing to eat?”

Elide snorted while Lorcam tried his best to reign in his smirk. Turning, Elide told him, “I put three lasagnas in your freezer.”

He beamed, “I love you!”

She chuckled as the door opened and Lysandra walked in.

“How’d it go?” Elide asked

“So did you guys make it in time?” Aedion spoke at the same time from his place against the fridge.

“Yeah,” Lysandra sighed, “Yeah, he talked to her, but she got on the plane anyway.”

“Where’s Rowan?” Lorcan asked her, knowing Rowan would be hiding away, brooding.

“He went home,” Lysandra frowned and leaned into Aedion’s embrace. “He didn't want to see anybody.”

***

Sitting on his couch, Rowan noticed his answering machine beeping. More out of muscle memory than an actual urge to listen, he pressed the button.

“Rowan, It’s me.”

Rowan jolted, a mess of emotion flying through him as he listened to Aelin's voice filter through his machine.

“I just got back on the plane. I feel awful. Gods, Rowan, that was so not how I wanted things to end with us.”

End. Rowan braced himself, he had to get through this message.

“It's just that I wasn't expecting to see you, and all of a sudden you're there and saying these things...and now I’m sitting here thinking of everything I should’ve said that I didn’t.”

Rowan heard her take a shuddering breath.

“I didn't even get to tell you that I love you too.”

His breath caught, and hope filled him for the first time since he’d been standing in front of her.

“Because of course, I do. I love you. I love you. Gods, Rowan, I love you.”

He held his breath, he almost couldn’t wrap his brain around what he was hearing, what he’d longed to hear.

“What am I doing? I love you! I need to get off this plane—”

“Oh my gods,” Rowan listened, wide-eyed as he heard Aelin argue with a flight attendant.

“Excuse me? I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, but I need to get off this plane, okay? I need to tell Rowan I love him.”

“Miss, can't let you off the plane.”

“Let her off the plane!” Rowan screamed at his machine.

“Oh, please, you don’t understand. Isn’t there any way you can just let me off—”

Beeeeep.

The message ended and Rowan was left sitting on the edge of his sofa staring disbelievingly at his answering machine.

“No!” He jumped up, carding a hand through his hair, “No! Aelin! Oh, my gods, did she get off the plane?”

“I got off the plane.”

Rowan whirled around so fast he thought his neck might snap. Aelin stood in his doorway, suitcase in hand, staring at him with a watery smile and eyes that blazed with surety.

“You got off the plane.” Rowan breathed and strode towards her, holding her face in his hands as she grabbed his arms, each clinging to the other, not able to let the other go.

Rowan wasn’t sure who moved first, but the next moment he was kissing Aelin, It was as if all the years of pining, love, heartbreak, and friendship, barreled through them and into a kiss full of promise. All the mistakes of the past, all the time wasted, was over. Now, they could finally be Rowan and Aelin. Finally.

When they pulled apart, still unable to let the other go, Aelin leaned her forehead against his and told him, “I do. I do love you.”

Rowan brushed a tear from her cheek and smiled down with all the warmth he could gather. “I love you too, Fireheart. And I’m never letting you go, again.”

“Good," She nodded, gripping him tighter, “because this is where I want to be, okay? With you. Always with you. No more messing around.”

“That’s right,” he agreed, “we’re done being stupid.”

Aelin kissed him again. “You and me, alright?” She looked him in the eye and saw everything she felt mirrored there. “To whatever end.”

“This is it. To whatever end” He echoed, pulling her in for another kiss.

***

The seven of them stood in the now-empty living room of Elide and Lorcan’s apartment. The new parents each held a baby, Fenrys sat with Lysandra and Aedion near the large window, and Aelin leaned into Rowan who had his arms wrapped around her as they stood to the side.

“Wow,” Aelin murmured, looking around the bare space.

“I know,” Rowan said into her hair, “It seems smaller somehow.”

Fenrys glanced at the walls a minute before asking, “Has it always been purple?” His answer consisted of several snorts.

Lorcan and Elide strapped Asterin and Cal into their stroller. Elide sniffed, facing everyone else, “Oh, uh, I promised the landlord we’d leave our keys.”

She said it to Lorcan, but each of them walked toward the counter to place their own keys. Elide laughed, looking at seven pairs of keys to a two-person apartment.

“I guess this is it,” Lysandra commented mournfully.

“Yeah,” Aedion wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “I guess so.”

At Elide’s sniffle, Lorcan pulled her into his arms. Through the fabric of his shirt, they could hear her say, “This is harder than I thought it would be.”

Gathering herself, Elide unwrapped her arms from Lorcan’s middle before turning to hug Aelin who’d come to stand next to her.

“Do you guys have to go to the new house right away?” Aelin asked, “Or do you have some time?”

“We have some time.”

“Okay,” Rowan grabbed Aelin’s hand, “should we get some coffee?”

“Sure,” Fenrys smirked. “Where?”

They all laughed as they walked out of the apartment that had become so important to each one of them. Aedion helped Lorcan carry the double stroller down the stairs, followed closely by Elide. Lysandra and Fenrys were bickering, but smiling as they walked. And Rowan and Aelin had their arms wrapped around each other, not daring or wanting to let the other one go. They shared a smile, and with one last glance at the closed apartment door, they left.

*****

Taglist:

@acourtofsnakes @allthebooksunderthemoon @astra-ad-mare @becarefuloflove @bisexual-genderfluid-loki @booklover41802 @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @danibutterr @doubt-less @emily-gsh @enormousbooklover @foughtconquered @fromthelibraryofemilyj @hakunamatatazz @i-have-but-one-brain-cell @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jorjy-jo @lemonade-coolattas @mariamuses @mayhemories @midsizewitch @miserablesmusings @morganofthewildfire @nehemikkele @rowaelinismyotp @rowansfirebringer @sayosdreams @sheharahu @sleeping-and-books @stardelia @story-scribbler @superspiritfestival @surielandiareendgame @swankii-art-teacher @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @moodymelanist @angelic-voice-1997 @realbookloverproblems @gracie-rosee @julemmaes @yesdreamblog @the-regal-warrior @rowanaelinn @thestoriesyoutell @autumnbabylon @sunflowermoonshinewrites @maastrash

[echo-three-one]

What? We're having a baby?!

Requested by : @maximumpoetrygalaxy

Shoutout to a fellow Frank Woods simp.

A short one-shot on how Frank Woods handles the struggles of a pregnant partner, and how he realizes that preparing for a baby isn't as exciting as making one. 🤣

⚠️NSFW WARNING as in Not Safe For Work and Naked Sexy Frank Woods⚠️

Lets assume a younger Woods at this time, yeah?

As the birds began to chirp outside his window, Frank slowly shifted his sleeping position to face his lovely partner, but was greeted with an empty bed. He was all alone.

"Honey?! Where are you?" he slowly got up and put wore only his sweatpants, making his way outside the bedroom.

A loud heaving noise alerted him and made his run to the bathroom, where his partner was hugging the toilet, her eyes looking tired.

Quickly rushing to her aid, he sat down beside her and rubbed her back softly.

"Are you okay? Should we go to the doctors? Is it because you ate Mason's cooking last night? That son of a bit-" he rambled as her partner squeezed her arm and looked at him with a smile on her face. This made the soldier calm down and rub his thumbs on her hand.

"I'm fine." she whispered, Frank slowly inched his face toward hers but she got up.

"Not now, Frank. I just puked!" She giggled and washed her face by the sink. Frank slowly wrapped his arm around her, pressing his entire body on her back, letting her feel the excitedness growing on his pants.

"You sure you're okay?" he whispered against her ear, teasing her a little bit as she stares at the view of the both of them on the mirror, slowly swaying their bodies to his guidance. His partner couldn't help but groan in pleasure, Frank was really one for pleasing and he has the power to do it whenever, wherever and she has no arguments about it.

"I'm very okay now." she turns to him as they kiss, her hands play with his bearded cheek, softly pulling it close to her face. Frank didn't hesitate on kissing her, he slowly made his way on her mouth, circling his tongue along with hers, like two dancers on an evening ball, tangled and couldn't get far from each other.

This was the exact thing that happened weeks ago, they were out drinking, she went to the bathroom to freshen up a bit only to be surprised by Frank Woods.

Weeks ago...

A soft moan escapes her mouth as Frank gently squeezed her leg while lifting it up the sink. She felt so vulnerable, her legs spread open in front of Frank, who's eyes were clearly enjoying the view.

He pressed his whole body against her while giving her neck kisses and licks as two fingers slowly make their way inside her. All she could do was moan both in frustration and pleasure.

His mouth trailed from her neck to her cheek to her lips where she desperately reached for his mouth once they met. Their tongues swirled against each other as both of their moans echo across the room. She could feel her legs shudder 00in the air as Frank's fingers dance inside her, working their own magic.

Breaking the kiss with heavy pants, Frank slowly licked his way down tuuo her other lip, his beard tickling her sensitive mound as his thumbs grip her leg, spreading her wide open as his tongue licks her pussy. At first it felt lacking, he wa nas only licking it like a kid with an ice cream cone, and the anticipation made her whimper and grab his head pushing him in her. Frank let out a soft chuckle as he looked up at her, a sexy smile plastered on his face, a smile that was up to no good.

She felt her hand soften its grip on his hair as Frank started u6utong like a hungry sex starved being, his hot and wet tongue explored every region, never leaving an area unexplored. She liked it a lot, evidenced by her ever hastening pants and loud moans of pleasure.

"Enough.. with the... teasing... Frank... Please." she whimpered her hands started to caress her own breasts, the sound of desperation filled her.

Frank immediately lifted her up and tossed her on the bed, her legs spread as she softly bounce on impact. Her eyes stared at the sexy man on the edge of the bed as he quickly took off his shirt and tossed it somwhere. She seductively licked her lips as her eyes stared at the godlike being before her, the view of his hairy chest, six pack abs and bulging arm muscles filled with tattoos made her almost drool. It got better when she followed the trail of hair just below his navel down to his pants where his erection bulged, waiting to break free.

"Shit, you're so gorgeous when you stare at me like that. It makes me wanna fuck you till you get pregnant." he commented, his voice raspy and sexy sending tingles across her body. She could hear his belt unbuckle setting free his huge cock, fully erect and ready.

"What are you waiting for?" She teased, her fingers curved, inviting him over as he obediently crawled toward her face, their lips clashing against each other on impact. She felt his hand guide his cock on her opening, inserting it quickly without warning. She yelped at the sudden feeling and moaned as soon as it already felt pleasurable.

Her ears were filled with Frank's erratic breaths followed by the loud creaking of their bed, slowly hitting against the wall. She bit her lip as each thrust sends her in a feeling of pure need and want, her insides embracing his every inch.

"Yes.." was the only word she knows how to say, as Frank's grunts and groans grew louder and the sounds of their skin slapping against each other filled the room.

With one final thrust, Frank quickly gets off her and agressively flips her to the side as he lied down behind her, pulling her hair to the side and grabbing her leg and raised it up.

She liked this position, and he knows it. She slowly closed her eyes as her back feels his nipples press against her and how the small of her back feels each pec of his ab slowly hit her as he thrusts from behind.

"You like this right? I know you do.." he breathed from behind her ear, the clapping continues as he slowly picks up the pace once more, feeling his whole package on a different angle. A smile escaped her lips as the pleasure began building up once again. She hears Frank groan differently signaling his approach to climax and braced herself for his load.

"Gahhh.." She felt Frank's warm secretion fill her insides, as they both pant heavily upon release, their muscles slowly tense as Frank spoons her from behind and hugged her.

"Holy shit. That was good." he said.

~

Frank's naked body was plopped against her as they both pant from exhaustion. They just finished another round and she felt weird that they did it after a horrible morning for her.

She turned to Frank as she felt her stomach churn differently once again. He was too heavy for her so she urged him to move so she could run toward the toilet again.

"We should just go visit a doctor." Frank said as he leaned by the bathroom door. She nodded in response as they prepare for an appointment.

***

"Congratulations. You're pregnant." The doctor, who resembles a lot like Russell Adler, greeted. This earned a different reaction from both parties, as Woods expression was dazed while his partner starts crying tears of joy.

"When will the baby arrive?" Woods quickly stood up almost demanding the doctor to talk.

"It's usually nine months from now. So I could say about, late October." he replied, clearly noting Frank's lack of knowledge towards the matter. His partner just smiled as she sensed excitement coming from her man.

"Now now Frank. It would take a lot of time to grow this." she said rubbing her tummy. Frank excitedly sat back and rubbed her tummy.

"So doc, when will we know if it's a uh.. a boy or a girl?" Frank asked excitedly.

The doctor gave him a soft chuckle. "Come back here for monthly check ups then you'll see how the baby's doing."

"What would you want it to be, Frank?" His partner asked.

"I want it to be a girl." he chuckled.

~

October 24th of that year.

Frank softly smiled as his partner leans on him while she recovers from her delivery. It was a rough few hours for the both of them and Frank swore she almost broke his fingers from gripping too much.

The nurse entered bringing a sleeping baby draped with pink cloth, her face so peaceful it was almost a crime to make a sound around her.

The parents face lit up as they received the child, touching her soft nose.

"What would you want to name her, Frank?"

"Donna Mary..." he looks at his partner.

"Donna Mary Woods. Welcome to the world."

[babbushka]

One more last call thought for you. Given that Lawyer Kylo has a pretty big ego and is also on the dominant side, he might be really into some situations where he gets to show you off, strut around like the power couple you are.

Whether that’s a swanky party or hot ass mirror sex afterwards.

If you feel like even more smutty ideas for him lol!

This really makes me wish he’d been around for Kinktober lol! I can’t tell you how excited I am for this guy! And I personally love the more alpha men!! You always have such good ideas!

Anonymous said:  Could I request #12 (don’t be so rough, there can’t be any marks) and #13 (i really don’t care, you still look hot and I’m trying not to fuck you senseless right now) office sexwith lawyer!Kylo Ren???? Thanks enjoy your weekend of sin

1.6k; NSFW (possessive behavior, bathroom sex, unprotected PIV, hate fucking lol)

He’s fashionably late, as per usual. Something about making an entrance has always appealed to Kylo, call it an ego if you’d like. He knows conversation stops when he walks into a room, he knows he sucks up all the attention the moment he steps foot through the threshold – just as he does now, the ballroom stopping to turn and get a glimpse at him, before breaking out into excited chatter.

That’s him, there he is, that’s Kylo Ren.

Everyone, that is, except for you.

You’re in pleasant conversation with some junior litigator, some fresh-faced clean shaven boy probably straight out of law school who keeps eyeing you like a prize to win. Kylo doesn’t like it.

He doesn’t like it one fucking bit.

The ballroom for the charitable fundraiser practically parts like the red sea for Kylo as he plucks a glass of champagne off of a waiter’s serving tray and makes his way to you. Your back is to him, so you don’t see him coming, but the boy does, and his eyes widen when Kylo’s intimidating frame casts a shadow onto his face.

“(Y/N), there you are.” Kylo slips an arm around your waist and puts the glass of champagne in your hand, as if you were waiting for him all the while. The boy doesn’t get the hint yet, so Kylo looks him up and down and tucks you closer to him with a, “Move along, the grownups are talking.”

He excuses himself and leaves, cheeks beet red. Poor kid, Kylo thinks for half a second.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You arch a brow up at him, not making one move to step away from Kylo’s side.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean.” Kylo grins at you, putting on the charm that got him so far in his career. It doesn’t get him anywhere with you, not really, but it’s still worth a shot trying.

“Kylo – ” You begin to frown.

“You look beautiful tonight.” He cuts you off and presses his lips to your ear, the ghost of a kiss.

He wants to kiss you properly, wants to do it in front of all these people. They’re staring, every single one of them, staring at how handsome the two of you look together. You’re in a swanky cocktail dress that fits you perfectly, shows off all the things you like most about yourself. Your lipstick leaves a print on the rim of your champagne glass while you take a measured sip, and Kylo finds himself wanting to taste it off your tongue.

“I’m beautiful every night.” You remind him with a deadpan delivery that took Kylo three years to recognize as being playful, “That wasn’t very nice of you.”

“Who ever said I was nice?” Kylo regards you with a raised brow of his own, and you break into a big grin then, a small victory that Kylo holds close to his chest, riding that win with, “Dance with me.”

The fundraiser is for some charity, Kylo doesn’t even know anymore. His mother put it on, as she always tends to do, and he shows up like a good son. Why you show up, he’ll never know, but the arrogant part of his mind likes to think it’s because you want to see him. You look damn good together, everyone says so, and even if they don’t say it, they think it – Kylo can practically hear their thoughts. Those thoughts are loud now, as Kylo brings you to the dance floor, bright and brassy music filling the air as laughter and conversations and debates all sound around you. He likes having his arms around you like this, so much so that he sometimes forgets how much of a pain in his ass you can be.

“Are you going to stare at me all evening or is there something you wanted to say?” You toy with some of the hair at the nape of his neck, “Must’ve been awfully important to steal me away.”

Kylo’s mood darkens when he remembers the way that boy had been eyeing you, like he was undressing you with his eyes. Kylo was the only one who got to undress you, a possessive flare burning up in his chest.

“I don’t like other men thinking they can have a piece of you.” He settles on finally.

“Oh you’re my keeper now, are you? Funny, I don’t remember agreeing to that.” You muse.

Kylo spins and dips you, pulls you back up and tucks you close to his chest, your lips touching his, noses bumping together.

“Agree to it now.” Kylo murmurs against your lips, just barely hovering over a kiss, his own eyes starting to slip closed.

“No.” You smile, pulling away, a chase.

“Stubborn.” Kylo follows, hungry and willing to play this game. He’s been playing it with you for years, he’s not going to stop now.

“Yes.” You grin, and damn, Kylo thinks you’re beautiful.

“I’d like very much to try and convince you.” Resting his forehead against yours, Kylo pinches your chin and rubs his thumb across your bottom lip, watching as your lipstick stains his fingerprint.

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

Two minutes later he’s got your legs wrapped around his hips in the family-style bathroom, door locked, shut away from the fundraiser down the hall. You’re arching into his touch, your pretty dress hiked way up around your waist, Kylo’s strong hands supporting your hips as his cock pushes all the way into you with deliberate thrusts.

“Yes – that’s – yes, right there.” You encourage, mouth dropped open into a delicious O, lashes brushing your cheeks from the way your eyes have closed from the pleasure.

“Fuck that’s good, oh fuck!” Kylo grunts, teeth clamping down around your neck, sucking and kissing and panting against your throat.

“Shut up, you have to be quiet or else we’ll get caught.” You smack a hand to the back of his neck, threading your fingers up through his hair, scratching at his scalp as you moan and sigh.

Your pussy is wet and tight and hot and Kylo shoves his cock in as far as it can possibly go, until he’s bottomed out entirely inside you, forcing it in deeper deeper deeper with each shallow thrust he makes, not wanting an inch of your pussy to be left untouched. The sounds are lewd, squelching and moaning and the rhythmic thud thud thudding of him pounding into you, Kylo feels drunk.

“I really don’t care, you look so sexy and I’m trying not to fuck you senseless right now.” He bites and worries at your throat some more, the restraint something he really has to concentrate on.

It’s easy when he has you at his place, and he can fuck you hard enough that the headboard slams against the wall – but there’s hours of wine-and-dining still, he can’t put you both out of commission so early in the evening and he knows that. Still, it’s hard, hard to hold back when you want each other so badly.

“Ugh don’t be – oh! – don’t be so rough, there can’t be any marks.” You yank his head back by his hair, and Kylo figures he’ll buy you a scarf to hide the blotchy hickies he’s given you, as he grinds his cock into your cunt, searching for that spot that makes your toes curl.

“Maybe I want there to be marks, maybe I want every John Doe in this place to know who fucks you right.” He grunts and groans out as he speeds up his hips, chasing release. He can feel his stomach tensing, his balls tightening, heat making him sweat inside his six-hundred-dollar suit jacket.

“Kylo,” You let out a hiccupped warning, and he groans again.

“Okay okay, alright, say my name again?” Kylo kisses your cheek, sticks one of his hands between your legs and rubs hard at your clit, matches his thrusts until you’re shaking and gripping his biceps tightly, your head thudding against the mirror as your chest heaves.

What he wouldn’t give to bite at your breasts right now.

“Kylo – I’m so close, so close just a little more just – Kylo!” You come around him, and that sends Kylo nearly over the edge, but he’s not wearing a condom, and he pats your cheek a little to get your attention, your eyes glazed over from pleasure.

“Can I – ?” He asks, wanting to make sure he doesn’t cross a line.  

“Yeah it’s okay.” You nod, and with that permission he thrusts once, twice, three more times in quick succession, and blows his load inside you.

With both of you coming into and around one another, the bathroom feels humid and sweat-slick. Kylo carefully puts your legs down, pulling out of you and grabbing some paper towels from the nearby dispenser to help clean up. Still sitting on the counter, you pull out a compact from your purse that he hands you, and you touch up your makeup, fixing the messed up lipstick and groaning at the series of marks he left on your flesh.

“I still hate you.” You let him know, even though there’s no malice behind it.

“I’ll try harder next time.” Kylo grins, before hoisting you down from the counter and helping you fix your dress so it lays nicely on your pretty thighs once again.

He offers you an arm, kisses you on the cheek one last time, and as if you don’t have his come staining your panties, he casually opens the door for you, rejoining the party and this time, staying right by your side all night long.  

[stars-a-n-d-scars]

10 Days of Summer - Chapter 2

Hey guys! Here is chapter two!!! As always, constructive criticism is welcome, homophobic bitching is not. I love you!!

***

Sirius had always been an early riser. There was just something about the way the sun shot pink and orange daggers to shatter the impenetrable frost of the night that drew him. Soothed him. He couldn’t count how many mornings he had spent on the roof of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, observing a world rarely seen. Keeping the company of the moon, she who shone her light for unseeing eyes, as she slipped from dark’s cruel grasp and was liberated, to finally rest. Watching as, one by one, the stars faded into nothingness and the great eastern orb returned to claim the sky for its own. And so, it will likely come as no surprise that when we rejoin our protagonist, he is partaking in the same activity as he had every morning for the last 12 years.

The sun had a peculiar way of setting the world on fire. It was never loud or obnoxious. It didn’t burst into the sky in a shower of confetti and yell of its presence for all to hear. It seeped over the horizon, inch by inch, so that even the most attentive of onlookers could never pinpoint the exact moment that night turned to day. Sirius sat perched on the roof of the Potter’s, watching smoke from his cigarette unfurling in that inexplicable, mesmerizing way that it does. But one can only sit alone on a roof for so long before one’s mind starts to wander. In Sirius’ case, it found its way to the boy sleeping on the sofa downstairs.

He had always been drawn by Remus. From the moment they’d met, something about that awkward, scar-ridden 11-year-old had caught his eye. Maybe it was the way his timid hands had quivered when they shook hands for the first time, or the way his eyes gleamed with a type of gold that a thousand goblins couldn’t conjure. Ever since that moment, he always wanted to be around him. To be close to him. It was impossible to explain, but Sirius was under a spell that not even the most powerful wizard in the world could break.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of a window creaking open. He turned around and was shocked by the sight of Remus climbing through the attic window and out onto the roof of the Potter house.

“Morning.” Remus’ morning voice never failed to take Sirius’ breath away. Simultaneously gravelly and soft, it enveloped him in what could only be described as comfort.

“Hey”, Sirius said, and it was frankly impressive how many voice cracks he managed to fit into that one, short word. Clearing his throat, the smitten boy persisted; “I thought you were afraid of heights?”

Nice one Sirius. Make him think you see him as a wimp. That’ll get him to fall in love with you.

Sirius internally cursed himself for his insensitivity, fully expecting Remus to turn right back around and go back inside out of anger. It was to his surprise, therefore, that Remus smiled and settled down next to him.

“I was. But these last few transformations… I don’t know. Every time the wolf rips me apart, I feel like I’m going to die. And so, after I changed back the last time, I decided that I wouldn’t waste whatever time I have left being scared of things that don’t matter. Because there is no way to know which full moon is going to be my last.” A heavy silence settled over the boys. As the weight of Remus’ confession sank in, Sirius found himself on the edge of tears. He knew it was selfish, but he couldn’t help thinking about how he would survive if Remus did die. If, one day, the blood on the floor of the shrieking shack would become too much, and they would all drown in its repercussions.

Wordlessly, Remus reached over and took hold of Sirius’ cigarette. Their fingers brushed only for a second, but it felt like forever and was over too soon. A shiver ran down Sirius’ spine at the feeling of Remus’ cold finger on his. His finger, surprisingly unmarred compared to the rest of his body, seemed to set every nerve in Sirius’ body in fire. That simple act of proximity was enough to set his heart beating at a rate that, frankly, shouldn’t be allowed.

When Remus withdrew his fingers, the cigarette perched between them, Sirius was left tingling in the small but infinite point of contact, and he vowed never to wash that hand again, lest he lose the shimmering ecstasy that the tingling brought. The situation was not improved by Remus’ decision to bring the cigarette to his lips, placing his mouth exactly where Sirius’ had been only seconds before. He took a long, languid drag from the joint, his beautiful lips perfectly shaping to exhale the smoke. Sirius marveled at how this boy could make even an act as simple as taking a puff from a cigarette seem like the most sensual, lascivious experience of his life. Sirius’ mind was flooded with obscene thoughts of what he wanted to do to those lips, what he wanted them to do to him. He felt dizzy at the thought (although that might have also had something to do with the sudden lack of blood in his head; it seemed to have decided that it was needed elsewhere).

The stillness was shattered by a hacking cough.

“Merlin, what the fuck is in this thing?” Remus exclaimed through another shuddering cough.

“It’s only a cigarette”, Sirius answered, confused.

Remus laughed. “I know that, dipshit. But why? What the fuck are you doing out here at bloody six in the morning smoking this cheap shit? Here.”

Sirius watched in bewilderment as Remus reached into his sweater pocket and withdrew a long, hand rolled joint.

“What is it?”, he asked stupidly.

Once again, he found himself blessed by the presence of Remus’ gorgeous laugh. “It’s weed. Marijuana. It’s a muggle drug.”

Sirius was skeptical. “And it’s better than cigarettes?”

“Way better. Here.”

Before Sirius had a chance to say anything, Remus was bringing the joint up to Sirius’ lips. Startled, Sirius instinctively parted them, and let the rough paper of the tip slide in. Then, Remus’ fingers skimmed his lower lip, and he was paralyzed. His mind was plunged into a world of haze, where his lip and Remus’ fingers existed alone. Where all the unsaid words were unimportant, and all that mattered was that Remus was touching him.

But something inside him realized the sheer impossibility of that dream and brought him back to reality. A reality where Remus would never love him back, because why would he? Why would an ethereal creature like Remus Lupin, with all his intangible beauty, pay any attention to a bratty pureblood who couldn’t even tell the difference between a mandrake and a spinach leaf?

Well, Sirius concluded, if this is the closest I ever get to him, I may as well make the most of it.

Sirius sighed, leaning into Remus’ touch. Memorizing the sensation of cold fingers on his skin. But Remus drew back. Sirius supposed he must have angered him with his display of intimacy, because a red flush was creeping up his neck and highlighting his cheeks.

Drawing back, Sirius cleared his throat, which was not an easy feat, due to the joint now in his mouth. When he was satisfied that an ordinary level of awkwardness had been restored between them, he lit his joint. Almost immediately, he felt a wave of relaxation wash over him. It was amazing, the sensation of every muscle in his body loosening, becoming calm. The tension was gone from his shoulders, and he couldn’t even remember why he had been worried about this in the first place. He had never felt anything better.

He felt a tug on the spliff and opened his mouth so it could slide out, the paper sticking to his lips. It was Remus, of course. He took it into those elegant, beautiful fingers and took a puff, closing his eyes as the glorious smoke entered his system. After a couple of seconds, he exhaled again, the smoke rippling through his voluptuous lips and ascending to join the clouds in their endless dance of mesmerising shapeshifting.

The rest of the morning was spent that way, sharing that slice of euphoria, tucked away on a rooftop in a tiny corner of a tiny island in a huge, huge world.

***

The sun was dipping into the west now, and James and Peter had long since engaged themselves in a fierce game of monopoly. Surprisingly, Peter was doing very well. Although James would later claim that he “let Peter win”, it was clear to see that he was severely frustrated by his lack of success. Although, his agitation might have had something to do with his anticipation of the next day; the girls had agreed to come over in the morning and stay for a couple of nights. Inevitably, James had spent many hours fretting over what to say when Lily arrived, before finally agreeing to partake in a game of monopoly to settle his nerves. Clearly, this hadn’t helped. To their merit, Remus and Sirius had abstained from the activity, aware that an apprehensive James and board games were never a good combination. They had instead elected to watch, which proved to be a far more enjoyable pastime.

“That’s it!”, James exclaimed, throwing his money down on the table. “I don’t get this dumb muggle game. I’m going for a walk.” He pushed back his chair with an unpleasant screech and stormed out the front door, leaving a bewildered Peter in his wake. They didn’t have long to revel in the absence of James’ intense leg-jiggling, however. The door had barely swung close before it was wrenched open again, and James came thundering back in, unchanged, except for the fact that he was now soaking wet.

Fuming, he mumbles something about “s’raining”, and sloshed his way up the stairs. A distant door slammed, and the house was quiet once more.

“Well”, Sirius clapped his hands together. “I’m starving. Dinner?”

Peter perked up at the mention of sustenance but was quickly shot down by Remus’ next statement.

“In case you haven’t noticed, we can’t exactly walk to town in this weather. And the muggle delivery place won’t come out here in the rain.”

But Sirius was unperturbed. “Well I’ll cook something! Peter, why don’t you go make the guest rooms up for the girls, and Remus and I will whip something up for tea.”

Peter quickly scampered upstairs, not one to pass up an opportunity to clean a bedroom (it was one of his many unappreciated blessings; the need for cleanliness).

Left alone now, Sirius turned to Remus. Just being close to him was enough to set his heart racing, but he pushed that down.

Not right now. We’re just cooking. Just two friends, making dinner for their other two, less sophisticated friends.

However, he found himself unsure of how to proceed. So, as a demonstration of his ever-present sophistication, he decided to go with the most refined of communicative methods: finger guns.

Immediately regretting the decision, he dropped his arms to his side and cleared his throat for what was probably nearing the millionth time that day. “Shall we?” Remus nodded.

The Potters’ kitchen was sprawling with innumerable cupboards and drawers, all immaculately designed and painted to create a blend of antique styles and modern methods. There were 3 ovens, and a number of industrial fridges, including a blast-freezer. A mini fridge sat on the bench, containing sodas of all flavours and, further back, expensive alcohols. To Sirius, who had grown up in the dingy prison of Grimmauld Place, it was heaven.

He walked over to the industrial fridge and started pulling out ingredients, ideas flooding his mind. Although he would never admit it, cooking was one of Sirius’ guilty pleasures. The thought of so many elements, things that are seemingly useless of bland, coming together to form a gastronomical masterpiece was something that he enjoyed immensely. Within minutes, he was working away at a bouillabaisse, the pastry for a quiche already in the oven, and an ice-cream mixture chilling in the fridge.

Remus was watching in amazement from his perch on the island bench, a cold raspberry soda in his hand.

“Where did you learn to cook?” he asked, unable to tear his eyes from the mesmerizing bubbling of the bouillabaisse.

Sirius blushed. “Andy taught me, actually. After she moved in with Ted. I would go and visit her every Saturday and help out around the house when Ted was out working.”

Remus was well aware of Sirius’ feelings about Ted Tonks. Although he had not approved of him initially, believing strongly that Andromeda was worthy of someone better, he had seen how passionately he cared for his family, and grown to like the stumpy little man.

“She says she learned from Ted’s mother, who was a chef in France before the Depression. She said that Andy had a knack for it, and so taught her everything she knew. Since no one in the ministry would take her in fear of her parents getting mad, she decided to do everything she can at home, taking care of the house and of little Nymphadora.”

“Oh yeah, how is she going? God, she must be going on a year now!” Remus asked, remembering the pictures Sirius had shown him of his baby cousin when she was born.

“She’s doing good. It really is a breath of fresh air, seeing that even in the midst of the oncoming war, there is still such innocence and good in the world. But at the same time, I’m terrified that she might have to grow up in a world governed by Voldemort.” His voice shook on that last sentence, his throat swelling painfully as tears sprung to his eyes. He tried to blink them back, unwilling to let Remus see that side of him, but they knew each other too well. With two quick strides, Remus was across the room, enveloping him in a hug.

Sirius sank into it, letting himself be consumed by the warmth or Remus. By that comforting smell of nutmeg and tea, coupled with chocolate and books. The brush of leather jacket on woolen sweater, the feeling of heads on shoulders and hands on backs. And he knew that, as long as this boy was in the world, everything would always be okay.

***

After dinner, the boys had opted to take their dessert into the living room and watch a movie. Remus had suggested Titanic, and James had protested for all of 5 seconds before remembering that Rose bore a slight resemblance to one Lily Evans and supporting the idea wholeheartedly. But now the movie had ended, and the boys found themselves, yet again, in limbo between waking and sleeping. At some point during the movie, Remus had moved over to snuggle next to Sirius, and it hadn’t taken long before they were sprawled out on the sofa, Remus’ head on Sirius’ chest. Sirius had tried no to think anything of it, justifying that Remus was tired and probably didn’t even know what he was doing. But a small part of him couldn’t help but wonder, couldn’t help but hope.

Remus opened his eyes and looked out the window into the dark garden. The night sky was speckled with a tapestry of a thousand stars, each one so small, yet burning with a fire so intense it could consume everything they held dear in less than a second. There was no moon in the sky that night.

Then Remus turned his head to look up at Sirius, his golden eyes meeting grey ones.

“It’s stopped raining”, he said.

Sirius looked up, and saw that the skies had, in fact, cleared.

Glancing down again, he went to reply, but was cut short by the sight before him. Remus was asleep, safe in his best friend’s arms. And so, Sirius spoke his answer for the unlistening ears of the night.

“Yeah. Yeah it has.”

***

I hope you liked it!! It is up on ao3 as well, and the next chapter will be coming soon! Please reblog is you liked it, I’m smol and would love more people to see it. thankyou!!

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Flatbush & Atlantic: part x

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii part viii part ix

And we’ve finally come to the end of Cass and Mat’s story! I want to thank every person who’s read this over the past few months, especially those of you who have reblogged, commented, and shared this with your friends. Your feedback means the world to me, and please tell me what you think of this final part! I’ve also got some ideas floating around for an epilogue, so don’t be surprised if that pops up in the next few weeks.

part x

May 21 (fri)

For once, it wasn’t Cass’ alarm that woke her up. Her internal clock didn’t let her sleep in past 6, but as she lay in her bed, comforter pulled up to her chin and curls up in a haphazard messy bun, a realization struck her. She didn’t have anything to do, and that was just about as far from normal for her as possible. Normally, she’d be hopping in the shower at this time, getting out and shoveling some cereal down her throat before running to catch the train, or desperately trying to finish some last-minute reading before an early lecture. Her grandparents’ flight didn’t land at JFK until 1, and she wouldn’t need to leave until an hour before that to get Mat and drive to the airport. 

Padding out to the kitchen, she just caught Ryanne, who was about to leave for a clinical rotation. “What department are you in this month?” Cass asked.

“OB/GYN,” Ryanne responded. “I got to observe a birth the other day, and it was one of my favorite things I’ve gotten to do so far. Obviously I don’t know for sure yet, but I think I might want to match into it. You get to do a little bit of everything — there’s some surgery, some routine care, some deliveries. And with the Black maternal health crisis, I figure we need all the Black OBs we can get as a country.” 

Cass smiled. “That’s wonderful, I’m glad to hear.” She knew that Ryanne had been a little stressed out with the prospect of trying to pick a residency; she hadn’t felt drawn to any of the other rotations she’d gone through quite like this one. 

“What about you? What’s your schedule like today?” Ryanne asked as she poured coffee into her travel mug. 

Cass flopped down on the couch, looking over at her. “It’s just...I have nothing to do. Nothing needs to get done. No cases to read, no essays to finish, no paperwork to file or anything. Chris gave me this week off for finals anyways, so I couldn’t even go into the office if I wanted to because there’s just nothing for me to do. Do you know how rare that is for me?”

Ryanne laughed. “Cass, I’m in med school. The last time I had a true ‘off day’ was two weeks ago, and even then I spent most of it studying.” She slung her backpack over one shoulder. “See you tonight, have a good day, babe!”

After some toast and a smoothie, Cass was back on the couch, trying desperately to think of something to do. She thrived on being busy, thrived on feeling like she was needed and contributing to something worthwhile. Pushing herself up, she walked back to her room, deciding to change and go out for a run. Cass liked to keep in shape and exercise as often as she could, even though it had been a few years since she had been on an organized sports team. She was usually able to make yoga classes at the school gym twice a week, but typically didn’t have the spare time in the mornings for a run. And by the time she got back it was almost always dark, way too late to even think about going out alone. 

Lacing up her tennis shoes and grabbing her AirPods and keys, she set out, down the stairs and past the door. As she jogged down the streets, making familiar turn after familiar turn, Cass realized something remarkably profound. Every place she passed had played a part in the last three years. St. Lucy’s, where she had stumbled in with inconsolable tears after her abuelo’s stroke, lighting a candle and praying with some old Italian woman for his recovery. The bodega on the corner run by Carlos Gonzalez, one of the first people she met when she moved to the city and the only one who knew how to smoosh her sandwiches down how she likes. The Edible Arrangements where she, Stella, and Ryanne had bought Alicia a congratulatory fruit bouquet for finally asking out her coworker Juliette. They had been dating for six months. The high school she passed every morning on her way to the subway station. These were the people and places that had made her life what it was, and she owed them her thanks. 

An hour and five miles later, Cass decided to call it quits, walking the last few blocks back to the apartment as a sort of cool-down. She jumped in the shower, throwing her hair up in a towel once she got out and resigning herself to watching whatever was on TV. Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives it was, apparently. Four episodes and one snack break later, it was time to get in the car to head over and pick up Mat. Cass drove down Manhattan Island, tapping her fingers in boredom as she hit yet more traffic. It was noon, why was there even traffic in the first place? She pulled into the visitor’s spot in the underground lot of Mat’s apartment complex, taking out her phone. Just got here! Mat popped out of the elevator a few minutes later, holding a bouquet of tulips. “Sorry I’m late, I was going back and forth between tulips and sunflowers for awhile, but I figured the pink was maybe a better choice? What do you think?” Cass started to laugh, and Mat looked offended. “What?”

“Babe, it’s so sweet that you want to impress my grandma, but have you thought about how the poor flowers will fare?”

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Cass adjusted her seatbelt, leaning over. “We’re going to be out for awhile. We’re not going straight back to their hotel. So…” she prompted.

“They’ll wilt.” Mat finished, his face falling. 

She covered his hand with her own. “Don’t worry. It’s a sweet gesture and I’m sure she’ll appreciate them. We’re all going out for dinner after the ceremony tomorrow, why don’t you bring them then?” 

He perked up. “I’ll run up and put them back in a vase, be back in a few!” Mat gave Cass a quick peck on her cheek, leaving her with just one question. Mat owned vases? He slid back into the passenger’s seat shortly after, clicking his seatbelt in and connecting his phone to the speakers. 

Cass rolled her eyes. “I don’t know a single guy your age who’s not obsessed with John Mayer. It’s kind of weird, honestly.”

“You don’t like him?” Mat asked curiously. Cass was usually into more guitar-based, acoustic stuff, so he figured she’d be into at least some of his stuff. 

“Some of it,” Cass responded, pulling out of the lot and onto the street. “Go ahead and play it, I don’t mind at all. Not what I’d usually put on if I’m alone, that’s all.”

Mat nodded, looking absentmindedly out the window. “So, what should I know about your grandparents?”

Cass’ face immediately burst into a smile at their mention. It was always so clear how much she loved her family, and that was one of Mat’s favorite things about her. How hard she loved. “Alright, so it’s Dolores and Roberto Cabrera. They’re wonderful people, I genuinely think you’re going to like them a lot. They’re both super fluent in English, so don’t worry about communication. They originally immigrated to Texas when they were in their teens, abuela was a housekeeper at a few hotels in San Antonio and abuelo worked in the fields for awhile before getting a job at a little hardware store in town, where he worked until they retired. My mom’s the middle of four, two older sisters and a younger brother.”Mat listened intently. “My abuelo’s a little more rough around the edges, so don’t be surprised if he gives you  a little bit of a hard time, but it’s not out of malice or anything. He’s always been very protective over us, my mom and her siblings, and now us three. He might do the whole ‘nobody’s good enough for my Cassidy” thing, but he’ll get over it. He means well.” 

She glanced over at Mat, who was looking decidedly nervous. “Seriously, chou, it’s going to be fine. Abuela’s totally different, they’re like polar opposites. I can almost guarantee that she’ll say something to the effect of ‘if my granddaughter loves you, I love you.’ Very much go with the flow, she’ll probably want to come over to your apartment and cook for you.” Her expression softened. “As long as you’re kind and respectful, they won’t have an issue with you, Mat. They’ll see that you treat me how I deserve to be treated and love me like I deserve to be loved.”

Cass pulled into the garage by the international arrivals terminal, cutting the gas and checking the time. “The flight was supposed to land at one, so they should be getting out of passport control by the time we get inside.” It was a little after one thirty, but if there was anything Cass knew, it was just how long customs could take at an airport as big as JFK. Even in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday, and even though her grandparents were travelling on their American passports and could use the citizen’s line, she had heard that it could take upwards of an hour or two to get through. 

The concourse was pretty bare apart from a few kiosks selling “I ❤️ NY” shirts and a surprisingly busy Noah’s Bagels, so Mat and Cass made themselves comfortable on one of the rows of plastic chairs lining the room. The arrivals screen had marked their flight from Mexico City as having landed nearly an hour prior, so it was little surprise when Cass popped up from the chair, straightening her shirt and walking over to a couple that he could only assume were her grandparents. Mat quickly followed, catching up to her just as she threw her arms around her grandma. “Abuela, te extrañé,” she said, the sound muffled by Dolores’ scarf. She pulled back, kissing her grandpa on the cheek before stepping over to Mat, one hand placed reassuringly on his back. “Abuela, abuelo, this is Mat, my boyfriend.”

Mat stuck his hand out, shaking theirs. “Mr. and Mrs. Cabrera, it’s so amazing to finally meet you. Cass speaks so highly of you, and she always talks about her summers in Hermosillo.” 

Dolores pulled Mat in, embracing him from the start just as Cass had expected. “Mat, it’s wonderful to finally meet you. Cassidy has told us so much about you, it’s clear she loves you a great deal.”

Mat ducked his head and blushed. “I’m not sure if she can love me more than I love her, but I’m happy to be in such good company.” 

He took both of their suitcases as Cass gestured to the sliding doors. “I want to get back to the car before they charge me for another half hour,” she said. 

Mat slid the bags in the trunk of the car as Dolores got in the passenger’s seat. With a gulp, Mat realized that meant he had to sit next to Roberto. He had been perfectly nice on the walk over, but as Cass had warned him, it was clear that he was a little guarded. Whether that was just his personality or whether Mat had yet to earn his trust hadn’t been determined. 

Her grandparents had been to New York once or twice before, but it had almost always been just to fly in before driving up to visit Cass’ family in Connecticut; they had never really been able to see the city. Cass  felt strongly that that had to change, so she had arranged for a mini-tour of Manhattan before they got dropped off at their hotel for the night. “So, Mat,” Dolores said, turning around in her chair, “Cassidy tells us you’re a hockey player? That must be so exciting, how long have you been playing?”

Mat nodded. “Yes ma’am. I play for the Islanders, so we’re right here in Brooklyn, but I live over in Manhattan. I’ve been playing the sport since I was four or so? Really little. But I just finished my fourth season on the Islanders. And it is exciting, I love being with my team and being on the ice, it’s one of the best feelings in the world.” 

“That must keep you busy, though?” Roberto asked gruffly. 

Mat froze. He couldn’t lie and say that he was home all the time, able to be there for Cass as often as he’d like to, because he wasn’t. But if he let on just how often he was gone, would that make him even more wary? “Oftentimes, yes,” Mat began slowly. “The team’s usually on two or so road trips a month, they’re usually about a week long. But they’re balanced out with plenty of home games, and there’s lots of guys who balance the job with a family and other responsibilities. I’m always excited to be able to be back in New York, I love it here. And to be with Cass.” Roberto nodded, not seemingly totally satisfied but content enough to not push the issue further. 

“He’s really good about spending time with me, abuelo, even though we’ve both got busy schedules,” Cass added, catching Roberto’s eye in the rearview mirror. “We meet in the morning before a class to get coffee, or lunch in between studying if I’ve got time. I go to every game I’m able to when he’s playing here in the city, or over in Jersey. We spend plenty of time together, he doesn’t blow me off. You don’t have to worry.” He seemed much more at ease with his granddaughter’s response. 

It was a whirlwind three hours around New York, Cass playing chauffeur as they went to the top of the Empire State Building — her pick — in St. Patrick’s Cathedral  — her grandpa’s pick — and around Central Park, stopping at one of the many pretzel carts for a snack. They dropped them off at the hotel, Cass’ eyes getting misty as her grandma pulled out the serape stole from her purse. Her fingers danced over the colors, the stripes of red and blue and pink and green, and knowing that it was made by the hands of someone so important to her made it all the more beautiful. The rest of her family was driving in later that night, after Nick got out of school, so everyone wouldn’t be together until the graduation ceremony the next day. 

The couple decided to get takeout on the way back to Mat’s apartment, Mat jumping out of the car to run in and pick up the order while Cass circled the block until he was out. As they sat on the couch, cuddled into each other as they broke into the boxes of Chinese food, Cass thought absentmindedly that Mat handled his chopsticks way better than she ever would have given him credit for. Her grandparents had been on her mind. More specifically, her grandparents and Mat had been on her mind. It wasn’t that she thought he had messed up in any way — she was positive he’d absolutely won over her grandma and her grandpa was slowly but surely coming around — but some lingering concerns about what they might think about their relationship. “I’m not sure that they’d actually care, but when you talk to them tomorrow maybe don’t mention how often I sleep over here? They’re wonderful people, but they’re a little old school about this stuff.” 

“This stuff?” Mat asked curiously. 

“Living together, sex before marriage, that kind of stuff.” 

“And how do you feel about it?” 

Cass raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you think you could ever get me to do something I didn’t want to do? I’m way too stubborn for that.” Mat threw his head back, laughing. “But seriously. I don’t make the decision lightly, because commitment and intimacy in that way is something really big and important to me. You already knew that I don’t do hookups, it’s just not my thing. But I can see this, us, going places. I want us to go places. And I’ve never been very good at listening to people when I don’t want to. So I’ve made my peace that my choices might not be ones everyone would be thrilled with, but it doesn’t really matter to me as long as I have you.” 

Mat nodded, putting down his food to card one hand through her curls. “I get that, I do. Obviously that’s not so much the attitude with a lot of the boys, but your principles are part of what makes you who you are, and I love who you are. Every part of you.” Cass smiled against his neck, leaning down and kissing him on the shoulder. “I want us to go places too, I hope you know that.”

“Glad to hear.”

They ate without speaking for a few more minutes until Mat broke the silence. “Where do you see yourself in five years?” 

“With you,” Cass answered honestly. “Here, or we could get a nice brownstone over in Brooklyn.” 

“Somewhere with a yard,” Mat mused. 

“Yeah, a yard would be nice,” Cass agreed. “I’d like to get a dog, I’ve always grown up with dogs and it would be nice to have someone to keep me company when you’re gone.” Her family’s two dogs, Patches and Scout, were back at the house in Connecticut, and on more than one occasion, Cass had made the two-hour drive up just to see them. She paused, glancing down at her hands. “In five years? You’d better have put a ring on my finger by then, Mat. I’ll be almost thirty. Approaching old maid status” 

Mat laughed, an easy, breathy sort of laugh that somehow erased all of the tension in the room. “I think you should double-hyphen.” 

Cass looked at him doubtfully. “Cabrera-Shaw-Barzal? Yeah, I’m going to have to pass on that one.” 

He shrugged, the corner of his lip pulled up in a half-smile. “Just saying. It’s got a ring to it.”

“Have you given much thought to what you’d want to do with your name when you get married?” Mat asked curiously. It really didn’t matter much to him, since it would ultimately be Cass’ decision, but he didn’t want to assume anything regardless. And it didn’t escape Cass that he said when, as if it was certain, as if it was a given. The surety made her heart flutter. 

Cass shook her head. “Not particularly. On one hand, I do like the idea of the whole family having the same name. It seems nice. Unified. But I don’t want to feel like I’m erasing my culture and who I am just because I’m getting married. And all due respect, chou,” Cass poked Mat’s cheek, “but Cabrera Shaw’s the name on my degrees. Cassidy Barzal didn’t go to law school.”

“Very fair,” Mat said with a chuckle. 

Cass took a deep breath. If it seemed like they were having the “future talk,” she figured it was best to go all in. “Do you want kids?” she asked, tentatively, hesitantly. It was obvious that Mat was good with kids, she’d seen as much, but being good with kids and wanting children of your own were two very different things. Cass had wanted to be a mom since she knew what a mom was, and even though they probably should have brought up the topic earlier, she wasn’t sure what she’d do if he said no. Thank God, she never had to find out. 

“Definitely,” Mat said, nodding. “Not now, obviously, we’re young and haven’t really settled down yet. If you got pregnant we’d make it work, but I don’t think either of us is looking to be parents right away. But in a couple years, once we’re married and have a proper house with space...Yeah, I’d like to have kids.” He looked over at Cass. “What about you?”

“Always wanted kids,” Cass responded fondly. “I loved growing up with siblings, and I know my parents were the same way. Two or three, I think. I’ve thought about adoption too, but obviously that’s way in the future.”

Mat kissed the top of her head. “We’ve got time.”

 May 22 (sat)

 The graduation ceremony itself wasn’t until noon, so Cass had more than enough time to get ready after waking up at 7. Alicia barrelled into her room at exactly 7:22, throwing a shirt at her and telling her to get dressed. Cass stumbled out of the room ten minutes later, pulling on socks and grabbing her phone from the charger by her door. “What are you guys trying to pull?” she asked, yawning and trying to wipe the sleep out of her eyes. 

“Uh, we’re going to the diner, duh,” Stella said with a smile, tossing Cass her purse. “Come on! You know it fills up early on weekends.” Glen’s Diner had become an apartment staple over the past few years, the restaurant having been the first place the four of them had eaten in the city when they moved, not having bought groceries yet and not wanting to pay the premium for delivery. It was cheap, open 24/7, and Cass would swear up and down that their blueberry pancakes were the best she’d ever had. 

They were seated just after 8, happily slurping coffee and stealing bites of each other’s breakfast twenty minutes later. It was a nice day and hadn’t gotten too hot yet, so they decided to walk back after finishing the meal. In reality, “going back” meant Alicia stopping to buy a new necklace, listening to a busker for a few minutes, and petting no fewer than five dogs on the one-mile walk. There was still plenty of time before they had to leave for the ceremony, but after Cass did her makeup and tamed her curls, there was just enough time to watch an episode of Parks & Rec before having to actually get her stuff together. Not as flexible as she once had been, Ryanne helped zip up the back of her dress, a white lace bodycon from her sorority days that she had definitely worn to at least two semiformals. Hey, Cass thought as she straightened her hemline, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. 

She had ironed her robe and put it into a dress bag the night before, and gently folded her school stole and the serape from her abuela into her purse. Mat’s necklace hadn’t left its place since Valentine’s. Her dad’s parents had given her a beautiful pair of pearl studs for her undergraduate graduation, and it felt only right to wear them for her next step. She fastened the ankle straps on her heels, and popped her head out to the living room. “Everyone ready?” She was met with a chorus of “yeses,” and grabbed her keys from their dish by the front door. 

“Let’s go get our girl graduated!” Alicia hollered into the street. 

The girls had originally objected to Cass driving herself to her own graduation, but relented as soon as Cass reminded them that she was the only one who knew where to find the free parking, and the rest of them only drove sedans. “Cheryl has way more room. Y’all want to be cramped on purpose?” 

“Fair point,” Stella had said begrudgingly. 

Exactly twenty-six minutes later, Cass pulled into a spot about two blocks away from the arena where she would be graduating in an hour’s time, hugging each of her friends as Ryanne handed her the dress bag. “You’re going to kill it in there,” she said, rubbing her back. 

Cass laughed. “Ry, all I’ve got to do is walk across a stage without tripping.”

She shrugged. “It’s a fine art that few have mastered.” 

Cass entered through the side, flashing her ID to the security guard standing by the door. Half an hour later, everyone had been ushered into their seats, carefully arranged in alphabetical order. For the most part, Cass was friendly with everyone in her class; if they weren’t outwardly hostile to her, she saw no reason why they deserved anything other than kindness, but was relieved to see Robin sitting next to her. “You excited?” Robin asked, brushing a piece of her auburn hair behind her ear. The lobby doors must have opened, because as she asked, crowds started to mill into the seats, waving at anyone who would catch their eye. 

Cass bounced her head. “I am, but it’s kind of surreal, you know? I knew we’d get to this point, obviously. It’s what we’ve been working towards for seven years, really. But the idea that it all essentially comes down to this…”

“An hour, a few handshakes, and a piece of paper,” Robin helpfully supplied. 

She nodded. “Yeah. It’s almost anticlimactic in a way? Like sure, we’ve got our JDs after this, but knowing we’ve still got to pass the bar. We’re not over the finish line yet.”

“Columbia has a 97% pass rate, and you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, Cass. And I’ve spent three years surrounded by the smartest people I’ve ever met.”

“Fair,” Cass said, “it’s just kind of a weird feeling, you know?” Robin nodded. “And plus, for most of us, we’ve pretty much spent our whole lives in school. Aside from positions as summer associates, or part-time jobs and internships, we don’t really know how to do anything other than school. It’s just a little bit of a daunting thought to suddenly feel like we’re being thrown out to the wolves without really knowing what to expect.” Cass’ phone, which she wasn’t technically supposed to have but had snuck in anyways, chose that moment to buzz with a text notification. It was from Mat.

Met up with the crew! Can’t wait to see you walk across that stage, Cass. I love you and we’re all so proud of you. Mat had attached a photo of everyone she had brought with her — both sets of grandparents, her parents and siblings, and roommates. 

“Your boyfriend is nauseatingly cute,” Robin observed, looking over her shoulder at the message. 

Cass laughed. “That’s true, but I knew what I was getting myself into.” The music started ten minutes later, and the ceremony began. If Cass was being honest, she didn’t really remember much of anything from the first half of the ceremony, before the conferral of diplomas. She was so excited and nervous and unbelievably ready all at the same time that all she recalled from the dean’s speech and the student speeches were vague comments about their “awesome responsibility” and “duty to pursue truth and justice” and “commitment to fight for what is right over what is easy.” 

As soon as she realized it, her row was being ushered into line to receive their diplomas. “Cassidy María Cabrera Shaw.” She heard her name, but really had no clue who had spoken it. The dean? One of her professors? As Cass walked up the steps and across the stage, the only thing she could think was don’t trip don’t trip don’t trip. Then she was handed a diploma, flashed a brilliant smile for the photographer, and shook hand after hand after hand before walking off the other side of the stage. She was pretty sure she could hear Mat and Noah yelling their congratulations from her seat on the floor. 

Having a name towards the front of the alphabet meant that Cass was almost always called on quickly in class, or on roll call, or at graduation, as the case was. But that meant that she had to sit, quietly and politely, for the other four hundred names to be called. And it took awhile. After Robin Cahill came Wesley Coleman, then Samuel Cogswell, then Fiona Chan. Cass didn’t mind having to sit through the whole thing, especially when Fiona, Les, Samaira, and her other friends crossed the stage — she cheered as much as anybody — but it was a long time to be sitting in a folding chair and the thousands of people packed into a small space didn’t help her temperature regulation. 

There was the benediction and congratulations, and then the recessional of the graduates. Graduates, Cass thought. She was a graduate. She had finished, she was done, she had accomplished the one thing she wanted most to do since she was a little girl watching Legally Blonde for the first time, looking at Elle Woods and thinking I can do that. And she had. Her feet carried her to the back room of their own accord, where she picked up her bag and was engulfed in a flurry of hugs, congratulations, and kisses on the cheek from her friends, the people who she had spent countless late nights in the library with, bar hopping to celebrate the end of finals, and afternoons on each other’s apartment couches, yelling fact patterns at each other and trying to come up with an analysis before the timer went off.  

Following the stream of sky blue graduation gowns, Cass walked outside, waving at her family when she spotted Eliana hanging off of a lamppost in the courtyard to get a better view. Her sister nearly tackled her as she made her way to the group. “Cass. I already knew you were brilliant, and I still think  you’re the smartest out of any of us,” she gestured between the two of them and Noah, “but now you’ve got the degree to prove it. I’m so proud of you.” 

Noah was next. “You worked hard, and I know how badly you wanted this. You’re a really good sister.” He wasn’t usually a big talker, and Cass’ eyes definitely got a little misty as he spoke. He had verbally committed to Minnesota State the week before, and Mat might have been more excited than even Cass when he heard the news. It was an incredible program that had a serious track record of sending players to the NHL, and she was so proud to see her little brother doing what he loved. Her mom and both grandmas were crying, as expected, and Grandpa Joe wrapped her up in a hug as soon as he got the chance. 

Mat had been hanging towards the back of the crowd, not wanting to feel like he was intruding on family time, until her dad nudged him forward. “Go say hi to your girl, Mat,” Patrick said.

“Will do,” Mat said, squeezing Cass’ hand and pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Sometimes it blows my mind how incredible you are,” he said. “Everyone’s already said how smart you are, and every bit of that is true. But you’re so much more than that, you know?” His thumb rubbed over her hand. “You’re beautiful, and curious, and you always keep me on my toes. You’re so passionate about your work, and you’ve got the biggest heart out of anyone I know. You’ve never met a person you didn’t want to help. And I promise I’m not biased just because I’m in love with you.” 

Cass gave a watery laugh, blinking and thanking God she had the foresight to wear waterproof mascara. “God, I love you, Mat.”

Her dad had always been the picture type, insisting on documenting every waking moment. He was the living embodiment of “pics or it didn’t happen,” for better or worse. He took a few of her with her law school friends, then Alicia snapped one with just her immediate family, then there was one with everyone. Cass also got a picture with Mat, where he was bending down to kiss her, the tassel on her mortarboard just barely brushing his nose. Then she was in one with all of the seniors on the law review, and a friend pulled her away for a few with the Latinx Student Association. By the time they finally managed to tear Patrick away from his camera, it was time to head back to the hotel and get ready for dinner. 

Mat got Patrick to send him the photo of him and Cass, and was about to post it on Instagram when he hesitated. “Hey, is it cool if I post this?” Mat said, showing Cass his phone. Most people knew who she was, and he had posted pictures of her before, but they had never been this obvious, this clear, this real. 

“Go for it.”

Mat pressed post. So, so proud of my incredible girlfriend @casscshaw for graduating law school. You’re one of the smartest, most empathetic people I know, and you’re going to make an amazing lawyer. 

Cass grinned, a big, genuine smile as she was surrounded by her family, the people who meant the most to her — whether they were related or not. She looked up at Mat, who was smiling softly down at her as he reached one hand up to fix her tassel. “What’s next?”

[set-phasers-to-whump]

just a little while longer

Whumpee: Will Riker

Fandom: Star Trek TNG

For: ValorousLeader on ao3

Prompt: outnumbered in a fight

hi folks whats poppin!! i hope u enjoy this fic :)

He was not going to win this fight. That was obvious. He supposed he should have just been glad that none of his attackers had a weapon. He didn’t like to imagine what would have happened then. 

As it was, though, it was just him, standing warily in the middle of an alley, wishing desperately that he had a phaser on him, or even just a communicator. But he had no such luck. It was him and his fists versus the six or so people surrounding him and their fists. It didn’t take a lot of thinking to work out what was about to happen.

“I’m a Starfleet officer,” he said, like this was going to change anything.

“Good for you,” said the man closest to him, grinning dangerously. 

He tried a different tactic. “I don’t have anything you’d want,” he insisted. This was true. He had nothing on him except for his clothes. 

“What makes you think we want anything from you?”

“The fact that you’re all advancing on me like you’re about to do something really stupid.”

“Hm.”

There was no further communication between them. Or, at least, no verbal communication. They made a hell of a point with their fists. And feet. And elbows, knees…

The first blow wasn’t so bad. He’d raised a hand to defend against a fist aimed at his face, stuck out his other hand to strike at the man closest to him, and gotten punched in the ribs before he could move his hands and defend against that attack. It hurt, of course, but it was the kind of pain he was used to. It was like nothing so much as accidentally stumbling into something hard. Painful, but not so bad. Maybe this won’t be so bad, then, he thought. 

Before he could do any further thinking along that line, however, he realized that this was, in fact, going to be bad. 

After the first punch, the hits just kept coming. One after another after another after another until they all blended into one constant pain. He defended himself as best as he could, quickly giving up on the idea of fighting back. But for every strike he blocked, four more would rain down before he had time to react. 

At some point, he felt something smack into his nose, accompanied by a very unpleasant crunching and a warm, wet feeling trickling down his face. At another point, someone kicked him in the stomach, and knocked what little air there was in his lungs right out of them, sending him unwillingly to his knees.

Once there, all he could do was curl up into a ball, wrap his arms around his head, and try to outlast his attackers, who kicked him over and over again, seemingly harder and harder every time. 

He’d become quite unable to think. Everything that he knew was pain. Sometimes the pain would intensify in a certain place, but it was constant and overwhelming. It burned, maybe, or it ached. It throbbed, vaguely, in time with his heartbeat, which pounded in his ears, nearly outdoing the painful sounds of his body being beaten to a pulp.

Later, he wouldn’t even remember when it had stopped. The pain was so constant that he just couldn’t tell. All he knew was that, at some point, the level of pain evened out - there were no sudden spikes as a particularly rough kick hit home, no throbs as an especially hurt place was hit again. Slowly, his mind emerged from the haze of pain, and he blinked open eyes that had been screwed shut against it. 

He looked around as much as he could in his current position. He didn’t see anyone around. It was getting dark out. He thought it had been light when he’d stepped into this alley, looking for a shortcut. He hoped he hadn’t been there for too long. He kept looking around. There were splotches on the ground. Dark ones. His blood, he figured, feeling a trickle of it drip down his face. 

As he continued to gather his thoughts, he realized that he had no idea what to do. He’d left his communicator behind in his room at the hotel, eliminating his ability to call for help. He had come into the alley off of a busy street, but he was sure he looked, well, awful, and he didn’t especially want to scare any of the pedestrians, even if they would be capable of getting him some help. 

However, unless he wanted to spend the rest of his life in the alley, he was going to have to suck it up and get out onto the street. He groaned. He was not looking forward to that. It had to be done, though.

First things first, he had to stand up. This was a task much easier said than done. While the pain in his body had become almost bearable, movement of any kind sent it skyrocketing. Even pushing himself to his knees was an almost insurmountable task, and he nearly collapsed back to the ground again, fighting against himself just to stay conscious. 

He managed to stay up, though, somehow, and then very slowly stood up, closing his eyes as the world tilted and his head spun. What he wouldn’t give to beam up to Sickbay right now…

But Sickbay was off the table - the Enterprise itself wasn’t even anywhere nearby. He was supposed to be on shore leave while the ship made a routine delivery to an outpost. He’d thought it would be fun. Himself, Dr. Crusher, Data, and Geordi, exploring a new city on a planet he hadn’t visited before…

Dr. Crusher! She would be able to help him, somehow. He knew she’d at least brought some basic medical supplies. Maybe she had something that would stop whatever injury it was that was leaking blood down his face. Maybe she could make the pain go away. He had to find her. He just had to find her, and then everything would be okay.

He stumbled his way out onto the street, ignoring the shocked looks and offers of help from the pedestrians around him. He looked around, trying to remember which direction he’d come from originally. 

Eventually, his eyes landed on a small shop with a brightly colored awning. He remembered walking by that shop! He must have come from that way, he decided. 

He started off down the street, very slowly. Every step was pure agony, and he barely managed to keep himself moving, motivated only by the thought that as soon as he found Dr. Crusher, everything was going to be alright. All he had to do was keep going. He could do that. He always kept going.

He wasn’t sure how long it was before he finally reached the friendly building that was the hotel his little group was staying in. He’d been walking for what felt like forever, dizzy and hurting and just hoping that he was going the right way. He very nearly collapsed the second he was through the door, and was saved from that fate by the surprised shout of a man sitting in the lobby, which brought him back to his senses.

“Sorry,” he choked out, the words tasting of blood. He ignored the man’s suggestions of finding a doctor, and stumbled off to find Dr. Crusher. He remembered where her room was, because it was right next to a painting that Data had talked about for half an hour over dinner the previous night. He found himself suddenly very glad for that conversation. 

He located the painting, and then the door, and knocked on it, wincing at the jolt to his arm and the pain in his fingers, glancing briefly down at his knuckles when he realized he’d left a bloody smear on the wood.

The door opened, and Dr. Crusher peeked her head out, smiling. Her face changed the second her eyes landed on Will, who stumbled forward into the room, collapsing at last onto the soft carpet. 

“What happened?” was the first thing that she said to him, as her hands fluttered carefully over his body, examining his many injuries.

“Dunno,” he said, trying to remember whether there had been any clear motivation behind his beating. “Lot of people,” he decided, vaguely recalling a jumble of fists and a man with a terrible smile. 

“I’m so sorry,” Dr. Crusher said, her voice soft. 

“S’okay,” Will told her, wincing when her hand touched an especially painful spot.

“I’m afraid there’s not much I can do,” she continued, a hand coming up to lightly touch the side of his face. “I’ll comm the Enterprise, of course, but in the meantime, this planet doesn’t have much in the way of medical capabilities. They can’t do much more than I can, right now, and all I can do is clean you up, patch up some of these cuts, and give you something for the pain. I can’t heal you the same way that I could if I had access to Sickbay.”

“I just want it to stop,” Will told her, honestly. “Don’t care about anything else.”

“I know,” Dr. Crusher said, sympathetically. “I’ll do my best to make it stop.” She gently helped him into a sitting position, easing him back to lean against the end of the bed. 

“I know you probably don’t feel like moving, but you might be more comfortable on the bed,” she suggested, turning away to grab some supplies.

Will shook his head at her back. “Don’t wanna move,” he said. His head was spinning far too much for that to be wise, and he was feeling dangerously close to passing out. Just a little longer, he told himself, to avoid that outcome. Just a little longer, and it will all stop.

A hypo pressed into his arm. 

“This is for the pain. It’ll take a few minutes to settle in. In the meantime, I’d like to work on some of those cuts, if that’s alright.”

“Sure,” Will said, closing his eyes. He didn’t much care what happened now. The important thing was that the pain was going to stop. 

He faded in and out of reality as something wet and vaguely cold touched his face. It stung slightly, but that was absolutely nothing compared to the magnitude of pain he was in, and he didn’t even react. He felt something press against his forehead, and then the blood stopped dripping down his face. That’s nice, he thought. Something else touched his knuckles, then, and then his shirt was being pulled away from him, and he heard a sympathetic hiss. 

“Will…”

“I know,” he mumbled. He didn’t know, really. He hadn’t looked at the injuries beneath his clothes. But he felt them, at any rate, and could imagine how bad they must have looked.

The cold and wet thing passed over his entire torso, but nothing pressed up against it. No bleeding to stop, he knew instinctively. 

“There’s nothing else I can do for your injuries that aren’t bleeding,” Dr. Crusher said, voicing his thoughts. 

He gave an almost imperceptible nod. The hypo was starting to kick in, and he found he didn’t care about anything else. 

“Feeling better?” Dr. Crusher asked, evidently noting his slight relaxation.

“Think it’s working.”

“Good. I’m going to finish cleaning you up, comm the Enterprise, and have you in Sickbay by tomorrow morning.”

“Okay,” Will said, the word dropping heavily from his tongue. He was exhausted, and now that the pain was fading, he was finding it very difficult to stay any level of alert. 

“You can sleep, Will,” Dr. Crusher said, putting a hand back on the side of his head. “Just get some rest, and when you wake up, you’ll be in a nice, comfortable bed in Sickbay and I’ll be telling you that you can’t get up for a few hours, and you’ll be insisting that you’re fine…”

As Dr. Crusher continued to talk and patch him up, Will finally let himself drift off to sleep. The pain was gone, and tomorrow everything would be alright.

thanks a ton for reading this!!! anyway now it is time for Me News: i quit my job the other day lol and today i gave a speech to my whole school (admittedly online which was not so scary) and it went well which was nice!! i’ve been kinda swamped lately with school but after this week i should have some free time between writing college essays if anyone wants to req a fic!

[tisfan]

Earth Girls are Easy

@rarepairsevents

Prompt: #8 - Carol comes across a truly lost human on her travels. Darcy was just doing her job when the bifrost went off. Now they’re on the weirdest intergalactic road trip. Bonus points if: bed sharing while mutual pining on an alien planet.

Carol Danvers/Darcy Lewis

Tag: Meet awkward, earth girls in space

Summary - Carol gets contracted to give a Terran a lift home. Cons: the pay sucks, Quill is an asshole, and the Collector’s been giving the girl a place to stay. Pros: She’s damn cute.

“Vers!” Someone bellowed across the Promenade. 

Carol Danvers resisted the urge to immediately blast him. She’d been Vers for a mere six years with the Kree, and working under her own name -- or sometimes Captain Marvel, named after her Kree mentor and friend -- for almost twenty. You’d think some aliens would get the fucking memo already.

“Vers, hi, how are you?”

“Carol,” she said.

“What, no, my name’s Peter--”

“MY name is Carol.”

“Oh, right, okay, yeah, the-- the thing, with the Kree, yeah, you know, I really hate those guys,” Quill said.

“What do you want, asshole?”

“So, like you’re from Terra and I’m from Terra, and I thought, maybe, one Terran to the other, you could do me a little, tiny favor.”

“No.” That was easy. She started to walk away.

(more below the cut)

“Look, no, I’ll give you a cut,” Quill said. He was jogging to keep up with her, because her leave-me-the-fuck-alone stride was pretty damn fast. She had to give him credit for perseverance, but out of a perverse sense of humor, she kept walking until he was out of breath and sweating. He still hadn’t gone away.

“Of what?”

“The job,” Quill said. “Look, I got us a job, and then a really sweet opportunity fell into our laps and--”

“You already made a commitment and then something bigger came along, you can’t do both at the same time, even though you’ve already said you would, and now you’re hoping that I’m an idiot and I’ll do your first job for you, for half the price. Keep dreaming, Star Lord.”

“It’s an easy job,” Quill protested. “Look, you can have seventy percent, consider the other thirty a finder’s fee.”

“I’m gonna break your ‘finder’ right off and shove it someplace unpleasant if you put your hand on me, so don’t,” Carol said. “What’s the job?”

“Just drop this girl off on Terra, okay? She’s super lost.”

It had to be a girl, right? It couldn’t be some white male asshole lost in space that she wouldn’t feel a hint of guilt at neglecting. Carol sighed. “Where is she?”

“Great, you won’t regre--”

“Zzzt. Shut up. The only thing out of your mouth better be a location and the amount of units you’re going to be handing me. Otherwise, I’m gonna blast you into next week, and then you’ll miss out on both jobs.”

“She’s at the Collector’s,” Quill squeaked. “And fifteen Asgardian urus. She didn’t have units.”

“Urus will do,” Carol said, practically. Urus had a better trade value in some of the outer rim systems. “And what, do you not like her? Why leave her there?”

“You said not to talk!” And Quill smacked his faceplate down, clicked his rocket boots, and flew off like a slightly paranoid Dorothy Gale. Asshole. Honestly, Carol was never sure if Quill was an asshole on purpose just because it kept people from having expectations of him, or, if like, his emotional growth had gotten stunted at age eight.

Decided she didn’t care, Carol changed her trajectory just enough to be pointed in the general direction of the Collector’s. 

At least she was one of the few people who could just barge in on him. He wasn’t exactly afraid of her, but she wasn’t afraid of him, either. They were sort of, not quite, equals in a way where both of them thought they’d win if it came to a throw down, and neither of them disliked the other enough to try it.

“Hey Taneleer,” she bellowed, slipping lightly between the displays. “I hear you got a package for me?”

“Do I? I was just thinking I might keep her. Earthlings are so delicate, they just don’t survive very long.”

“Yeah, yeah, your coat is lovely by the way, where did you get it?” She pushed into Taneleer’s personal space. “Give me the girl.”

“Right, one human woman, coming right up--” the Collector said, brushing down his coat, which appeared to, in fact, be alive. Gross. “Miss Lewis, if you please. This is Captain Marvel. She’ll be taking you home.”

The woman who Taneleer coaxed out of the corner was pretty in a coffee-shop, slam poet, studying to be a CPA on the side, and volunteering at the dog shelter on the weekends.

Oh, I am in so much trouble.

“Miss Lewis,” Carol said. 

“Darcy, Darcy is fine, I’m-- yeah, nice to meet you.”

“You can call me Carol.”

Both Taneleer’s bushy eyebrows went up.

So much trouble.

*

“So, you’re a human,” Darcy said. Like when she was walking near Thor -- she never walked with Thor, Thor was a one man show, and sometimes he let other people accompany him -- she had to practically run to keep up. “Do I even want to know how you got to space?”

“I was kidnapped,” Captain Carol Marvel thingie said, not looking around. 

“Lot of that going around, that’s the same thing that Star Guy said, and I know Jane’s been to space a few times, but usually Thor takes her. It’d be nice, I think, if there were some humans who got to space by themselves, don’t you? I feel so-- unadvanced.”

“Humans are, compared to the larger galaxy,” Carol said, “rather primitive.”

“Fuck you. We have great margaritas,” Darcy sniffed. “Around here they have random varieties of ‘we distilled this shit next to our power core and it probably won’t kill you.’”

“I’ll give you that much,” Carol said. “I haven’t been to a decent bar in… well, probably longer than you’ve been alive.”

“You don’t look that much older than me,” Darcy said. She was, however, familiar with gods, and their age issues. Thor was something around fifteen hundred years old, or the rough equivalent of a soccer mom. Of course, by that notion, Loki was all of sixteen or so, and the more Darcy thought about that, the more logical it seemed. Loki had all the sense and restraint of an angry white boy with daddy issues and a gun, and the Asgardians did seem to be the primeval angry white boys.

“Looks can be deceiving,” Carol said, “although, not possibly as old as you’re now thinking. I was born on Earth in 1966, standard planetary time.”

“There is exactly no way you’re twenty years older than I am,” Darcy spluttered. “Not with an ass like that.”

Carol looked over her shoulder. “What’s wrong with my ass.”

“Not a damn thing,” Darcy said. “And I’ve seen Tony Stark up close, so believe me when I say, I know a fine ass when I see one.”

“Tony Stark? Is that supposed to mean something?”

“Iron Man? Earth’s greatest defender? How long have you been gone?”

“Since ‘89, with a brief visit in 1995 to deal with some alien issues.”

“We had aliens back in the 90s? Well, that explains some things,” Darcy said. Really, nothing surprised her anymore.

“Quill is half alien,” Carol said, “and his mom popped out that delightful ass in the eighties or thereabouts. So you’ve had aliens on Terra that I personally know about since the mid seventies. And the Asgardians were there centuries ago. Face it, little green men are a thing, and probably always have been.”

“What even is my reaction to that supposed to be?” Darcy demanded, trotting to catch up, because Carol had stopped listening and was striding off toward… well, Darcy hoped it was her ship, or something. She was used to it, though. Being left behind. Forgotten. She wasn’t very interesting, or very smart, or very beautiful. She was a mostly normal-thank-you-very-much human grad student who was going to have a lot of freaking college loans to pay off. Which was why she kept putting off actually graduating, because at least being Jane’s assistant paid some bills and kept her in kitchen and booze funds.

It also ended up with her being accidentally zotted to the other end of the galaxy when one of Jane’s experiments either went drastically wrong, or incredibly right. Hard to say, and she wouldn’t really know until she got home and found out of Jane had just popped off to a different party of the galaxy. And rest assured that Thor probably knew where she was and went after her. Which, it might not occur to them for a while that Darcy also needed to be rescued.

To be fair, Jane often managed to find trouble when she was out of line of sight, and getting popped of, she might have, for instance, immediately have stuck her pen into some swirly goo and gotten infected with Bad Space Things. You know, just saying.

Not like it had ever happened before.

“So,” she said, when she finally caught up, panting for breath, because, damn, in addition to having a killer ass, Carol also apparently had increased lung capacity. Well, Darcy might be able to make use of that if she was going to entertain the idea of getting funky with a space diva. And she just might consider it. “Sounds like you’ve been missing the bar scene for a while, and maybe a drink or two, and cheese sticks? Want to hit the Applebees when we get back? I mean, I know it’s basic and everything, but I don’t get paid all that often and their happy hour is--”

“Don’t you have fifteen Uru? At least?” Carol stopped walking and Darcy slammed into her, and they engaged in a little rocking back and forth before Carol steadied them out.

“Well, yeah,” Darcy said. “I’ve got hundreds of them, Thor gives them to us all the time for stuff. But there’s no exchange rate on Earth for god-money.”

“How many do you have with you?”

“A hundred or so,” Darcy hedged. She’d told Quill she only had twenty because he’d looked very… untrustworthy.

“Right, we’ll hit up the exchange on our way out of the port,” Carol said. “Minus my delivery fee, of course.”

“Of course. Does that mean yes to a date?”

“If you have a hundred uru, you could probably buy the bar,” Carol said. “So, yes. Date. sounds fun. Do they still do karaoke on Earth?”

“Yass, Queen,” Darcy said, holding her hand up to be high fived and after a moment, Carol seemed to recall the custom. “What’s the exchange rate?”

Carol swiped a few gestures over her wrist, popping up a display holograph, which Darcy would think was really cool if she wasn’t actually in Goddamn space and had seen some actual motherfreaking aliens, thanks very much. “About six and a half to one.”

“Six hundred dollar’s isn’t bad, but it’s hardly buying real estate--”

“Six and a half thousand. To one Uru. So, about half a million dollars, or so, after processing fees.”

Darcy almost stopped breathing. “I have hundreds of those things at home,” she squeaked.

“So, yeah. Date?”

“Date.” She could think about the rest of it later. Like, when she was writing a check to pay off her student loans.

fin 

A/n - in the book, Dorothy Gale had silver shoes, and she could use them to fly, which is what Carol is thinking of here.

Earth Girls are Easy is an 80s movie staring Jeff Goldblum, so... make of that what you will

[crue-sixx]

Chasing Ghosts

Title: Chasing Ghosts

Fandom: The Dirt 

Summary: Frank comes to your door in tears, says nothing and takes you against the wall.

Warnings: Smut, violence, swearing, abuse mention.

Trigger Warning: Mentions of abuse so if this makes you uncomfortable then please do not read.

In the winter of your fourteenth year, you met Frankie Ferrana.  He was a rough and tumble kid from Seattle who at the time lived with his Nona and Grandpa Tom.  He at first wouldn't give you the time of day but when he saw all the bruises on your body he felt for you.  He gave you some lessons in self defense, if you ever gained enough courage to fight back against your father.  He regretted ever teaching you when you missed school for a week, him going to your house only to see your face busted up.

He eventually went behind your back and called child services on your dad, the day after they paid a visit your father made an executive decision to uproot the family from Seattle, Washington to Montgomery, Alabama.  When you told Frankie about it, he looked so disheartened that he just hugged you and whispered in your ear "Call me, anytime...I'll come get you" you knew his number by heart and you nodded.

The two of you stayed in touch for two years, making weekly phone calls.  When you missed his weekly call, he grew worried and begged Tom to take him to Alabama to come see you.  He declined, the loss of contact continuing for a month.  When the phone blared at 3 in the morning, he knew it was about you.  "Hello? Y/N?"

"No" your sister Gina said in a hushed tone, her being older than you by a few years.  "It's Gina, her sister.  You need to come get her..."

He was on alert now and said "What the fuck is going on?!"

"Last month our father got really mad at her" she was choking back silent sobs "he poured boiling oil on her while she was sleeping..."

Frank didn't know it was possible to have his blood freeze and boil at the same time.  "Where is she?" he said darkly.

"Saint Xavier's Hospital.  Third floor, room 403" she quickly said and hung up the phone.  In the background, he could hear their father demand to know who she was talking to.  Frank knew Tom wouldn't believe him without evidence, so he opted for the less legal option-he took the truck without telling Tom and drove from Seattle to Montgomery.  He gassed up a few times and just drove off without paying, time was of the essence.  He made the trip in just under 40 hours, using empty soda cans to piss in when he had to go.

He kicked the door open to your room, the place being empty save for the patient of course.  He didn't recoil from your burn, the bubbly skin on the right sight of your face and neck, just touching your shoulder.  He unhooked your IVs from your arm, taking the wheelchair from the corner and putting you in it to wheel you out without being caught.

He stopped dead in his tracks when a nurse turned the corner and stared at you both.  He was so afraid of being busted, but the nurse just smiled at him and put a finger to her lips, gesturing that she'd keep quiet about your location.  He nodded his thanks and went on his way with you.  You woke up a little, able to get up and climb into the truck on your own "You came...." you softly cried.

"Gina called" he drive off back to Seattle "Just rest now, Y/N...you need it..." he stroked your thigh, but not in a sexual way.  You laid your head on the window and slept the whole way back.  Tom and Nona were understandably pissed at Frank for stealing the truck, but recoiled the moment they saw your face.  

He let you share his bed with him, both of you needed each other close.  He was kicking himself for letting you leave with your father, wondering how many other injuries he had caused you to get.  While you were sound asleep and dead to the world, he brushed your hair from your face and said "You're so beautiful..." and planted a soft kiss on your lips.

Over the next year, you and Frank had moved to L.A., to get away from his mother, Deanna.  He made sure to include you in all his dealings, and shared his booze and drugs with you.  On many occasions, you two had even had drunken, drugged up sex, both of you too scared to admit having feelings for each other.

It was one night he asked you to be left alone, that he needed to do something by himself.  This was out of the ordinary for him, but  you obliged him.  He had done so much for you, and you granted him this one favor he asked of you.  He had left with a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand, and was back in a few hours.  He banged on the door and when you opened it he pushed you back against the wall and started kissing you.

You returned the gesture, pulling away and seeing that he'd been crying "Frank?  What's wrong?"

He was breathing heavily as he tore off your shirt to kiss your breasts "No..." he pulled down your bra to get at the nipple, teasing it with his tongue "Don't call me Frank..."

You groaned in need, needing him to be inside you soon "What do you want me to call you then?"

"Babe" he reached down into your pants and inserted two fingers inside you "just call me Babe for the moment..."

"Babe..." you sighed, you feeling his fingers slipping in and out of you.  He then bought his fingers up to your lips, you licking one clean and him doing the same to the other "fuck me..."

"Yes, Ma'am" he used his switchblade knife to cut off your pants and panties, you spread your legs to allow him to enter you.  He stepped back to release his cock from his pants, the thing bouncing at the very sight of you naked in front of him.  He pressed you against the wall, and dove right in.  

"Fuck, Babe" you gasped as he roughly entered you.  You could smell the whiskey on his breath, the scent seeming to seep through his skin.  It turned you on even more, you wrapping one leg around his waist.

He grunted "You're always so fuckin' tight for me, Y/N..."

"That's cause nobody else will fuck me with this monster face" you said.  He suddenly stopped and gave you a stern look.

"You're beautiful" he gave a hard thrust, you squeaking from the sudden pressure "the way" another thrust "you are..." he took both your legs in his arms, him being strong enough to hold you up and thrust.

He'd never done this when you two fucked before, so the feeling was new to you.  "Jesus Fuckin' Christ Babe..." you clung onto his neck to help him hold you up "Keep that up, I'm gonna cum..."

"Me too..." a few thrusts later, you felt him twitch and release himself inside you, his hips shuddering as he did so and he let out a loud "Y/N!  FUCK!"

When you came right after him you bit into his shoulder, making him cum harder than he'd ever did while he was with you.  His cock pulsed a few times, releasing more of his semen.  When he caught his breath, he pulled out and let you down.  You reached up and gave him a tired kiss, the both of you having been spent.  You took his hand and went to the couch to cuddle, you in the nude and him having done up his pants.  After a few minutes of blissful silence you asked "What was that all about?"

"Me fuckin' your brains out?" he laughed softly.

"Yeah that," you caressed his thick arm "and why you were crying" you interlocked your fingers with his, allowing him to take his time with answering.

"I called my dad..." he finally said, you looking up at him in disbelief.

"Well what did he say?" you were anxious to hear all about it.

"He told me he didn't have a son" he sniffled "and to never call him again..."

"Oh Babe..." your eyes were sorrowful for him.  He'd told you that he wanted to have a relationship with his father all his life, him only showing up once in a blue moon.  The one time he actually remembered clearly that Big Frank gave him a birthday present was a sled when he was seven.

"I don't want my name anymore" he stated matter of fact "How do I change it?"

"Well you have to go down to the social security office and apply for a name change, bring your current ID and fill out what your name is and what you want to change it to" you had some working knowledge about the issue, you working at the post office in the back sorting mail for delivery.  "What do you want to change it to?"

"I dunno" he said, his mood and voice perking up a little "something cool!  I wanna be a rock star!"

You thought about your ex back in Alabama "Nicky Six?"

He looked down at you and asked "How is it spelled?"

"N-I-C-K-Y S-I-X"

"The name sounds cool, but not with that spelling" he pouted cutely.

"N-I-K-K-I S-I-X-X?" he grinned at you and kissed you again.

"That's so totally metal, Y/N" he put his arm around you, kissing you deeper now.  You could feel his hardening cock in his pants against your thigh.

"Again, Nikki?" you raised an eyebrow at him, he grinned at the use of his new name.

"You're just so gorgeous, Y/N" his hand moved down your body "I can't help it..." you obliged and wrapped your legs around him while lying on the couch.  "Hey..." he stopped, being serious "Wanna officially be my girl?"

"What?" you stopped too, suddenly getting self-conscience about your face "you want to be seen with a girl looking like Quasimodo?"

He sighed, exasperated that you still thought of yourself as unlovable even after he assured you multiple times you looked radiant. "Y/N.  You are perfect, the way you are...I will help you see that" he bent down to kiss you, this time making slow, sweet love instead of a tangled mess of sloppy fucking.

The next few months were peaceful, or as peaceful as they could be with Nikki Sixx, Tommy Lee, Mick Mars and Vince Neil around as your lover and friends.  You were alone in the apartment one night, as you were fighting a bad cold when you heard a knock at the door.  "Guys, I can't believe you're home so early from a show!  Did you totally bomb?" you opened the door to see the man who struck fear into your soul for many years.

"Hey, my wayward daughter" he stepped in, you stepping back out of terror.

"I-I don't think you should be here, Daddy..." you stammered, tripping over the sofa.

"I'm here to take you back home, child" he grabbed at your hair and pulled you up to him.  You screamed and bit his arm, him releasing you from the pain.  You scrambled back to the couch, where you knew Nikki hid one of his hand guns.  He'd given you lessons on how to shoot, and they'd come in handy.  You grabbed the thing and your father had grabbed your leg and was dragging you backward.

"I'm not afraid of you anymore!" you shouted back to him.  "You have no power over me!"

"I am your father!  You are my property!  That burn on your face if proof of that!" he started to lunge forward, but from behind he was pulled back by Nikki, who held his switchblade to the older man's throat.

"She doesn't answer to you, asshole" his eyes were fully black, him pressing the blade to your father's neck drawing blood.  With three more men who were more than capable of kicking his ass behind him, your father relented and stepped back.

"This isn't over, Frankie" he scoffed.

"My name is Nikki" your boyfriend corrected him "and if we ever see your face again, I'll gut you like a fish."

Your father then left, you breathing a sigh of relief and saying "Thanks guys..." you didn't need to say anything else, all of them knowing full well that it was your father who burned your face.  Nikki helped you up.

"You okay, Y/N?" he gave you a once over "You're not hurt are you?"

"No, I'm fine" you assured them with confidence.  "Just shaken up is all" soon people started pouring in for the party, Nikki never leaving your side.  While you were making out with him later, you smelled the whiskey on him and grinned against his lips.

"Wanna fuck?" he asked, taking you to your room.

"Hell yeah!" you screamed against the music, then slamming the door for semi-privacy.

[the--sad--hatter]

Phantom Pain (18)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - Bucky X Reader 

WARNINGS - Bad Habits and Rough Sex, Angsty and Dark AF. 

DESCRIPTION -  Everybody in the world knew of you, but not who you really were. Some called you a vigilante, some called you a criminal and some called you a hero but all of them called you The Phantom. Only two people knew your real identity and they swore to never tell anyone but when The Avengers need to infiltrate a high-security facility, Bruce Banner deduces that you’re the only one who can pull it off. That decision puts you and Bucky Barnes on a path you can’t turn back from, even if neither of like where it’s leading.

Series Masterlist

Chapter Eighteen - People In Glass Cages 

Bucky tried but he couldn’t sleep. For once it wasn’t the torturous memories of his past that were haunting him into insomnia, it was the exquisite memory of you. You’d lain right here on these sheets and molded your body around his and he could still smell you on the pillow. His mind flitted between two very prominent images of you.

In one, you were underneath him, panting and whimpering and taking his cock so well.

In the other you were telling him that your body was all he could have from you.

He changed the sheets but it didn’t help. He could still imagine you lying on your side of the bed, except you would never claim a side of the bed.

You’d left your shredded clothes behind when you’d run away from him and as he picked them up he decided he was all in, even if you weren’t. He play your game, he’d obey your rules and he’d take all he could get from you. It was better than nothing at all. But there were loopholes and he was going to exploit them.

As soon as the sun peeked over the horizon he gave up the idea of sleep and got up, slipping out of the compound and driving away to get what he needed for the first part of his plan.

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

There was an incessant knocking at your door and even though you pulled the pillow over your head and tried to drown it out, whoever it was wouldn’t stop. You screamed into the pillow in frustration and violently kicked the duvet onto the floor as you got up and stomped over to the door.

“WHAT?” You asked, yanking the door open.

“Your cat snuck into my room and tried to suffocate me in my sleep.” Clint grouched.

“Ok.”

“Good morning Miss.” West said, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“And I found your butler in the kitchen.” Clint added.

“Coffee and breakfast.” West stated and you noticed he had a tray in his hands, and Clint was weighed down with a bouquet.  

You opened the door and let them in with a quizzical look.

“Mr Barton chivalrously offered to assist me in carrying your delivery to you. I also brought your mail, the Times newspaper and the company reports that everyone thinks you do not read.” He said, setting the tray down on the coffee table.

“West, you don’t have to make me breakfast anymore. That being said, if it makes you happy, you do you boo.” You said, eagerly grabbing the coffee and a slice of toast.

“Don’t you want to know who sent you flowers?” Clint asked.

“Not rearry.” You mumbled with your mouth full.

Clint and West shared an amused look and West brandished the newspaper at you.

“As Alexander King is a criminal, I no longer work for him. I’ve been hired by somebody else.” West informed you and your stomach twisted uncomfortably.

“Oh. Is this a goodbye breakfast?” You asked nonchalantly, making your pain behind indifference.

“I’ve been hired by Sergeant Barnes. I’ve been given a most generous salary and room here in the compound.” West said.

“I wonder why.” Clint said meaningfully, eyeing the red Henley you were wearing.

“Bucky stole you? What? Why?” You screeched.

Was this his way of getting back at you for last night? You’d hurt him so he wanted to hurt you.

“I apologise for the confusion Miss. Sergeant Barnes negotiated my salary, on your behalf.” West clarified with a twinkle in his eyes.

“What?”

“He came to me first thing this morning and told me that you wanted me to stay with you but you didn’t want to ask, that you didn’t want me to feel like I had to. So he asked on your behalf.” West informed you.

“Also, he sent you flowers.” Clint said, reading the card that had been tucked into the bouquet.

“He’s a friend?” You offered.

“So he wasn’t the one who gave you all those hickies?” Clint sniggered.

You blushed and coughed uncomfortably, pulling the bottom of the Henley down to cover your thighs. You’d forgotten about the state you were in and were rapidly becoming more embarrassed by the second.

“I’m going to... go.” You said.

“This is your room Miss.”

“Clint is going to go and I’m going to go shower and dress.” You amended.

“Very well, shall I find a vase for your flowers?” West asked.

“I’ll do it! I’ll put them in the common room, lots of sunlight in there!” Clint said in a rush, hurrying away with them.

“There’s sunlight in here. Clint there’s sunlight in here!” You yelled but it was too late, he was gone.

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

You tucked your phone between your shoulder and cheek as you shuffled through the files you’d been delivered in the office room you’d commandeered.

“Matt, the board want to take the weapons designs that my father made for Hydra and continue to manufacture them as part of the government contracts. I can’t let that happen.” You said.

“You only own 22% of the shares, even if you convince the board to make you the new CEO there’s nothing you can do.” Foggy said down the speakerphone.

“Challenge accepted.” You said smugly.

“Oh no. What are you going to do?” Foggy groaned.

“Nothing illegal.” You assured him.

“King...” Matt warned.

“It’s only a little illegal. It’ll be fine, oh gotta go. Byeeee.” You said as you spotted Bucky leaning against a wall and watching you.

You hung up the phone and narrowed your eyes at him.

“I hear you spoke with West... and you sent me flowers.” You said.

“As your friend, I helped you out so you didn’t lose someone you care about.” He said with a cocky smirk.

“Fine. It was a friendship move. What about the flowers?” You asked.

“You didn’t say anything about gifts.” He said with a shrug.

“Fine, new rule. No gifts.” You said, sighing.

He came over and stood behind you, so close you could feel the heat radiating from him.

“What are you doing?” You asked suspiciously.

“You can’t change the rules as you please Domniţă, we had an agreement.” he said lowly.

“I said no romance. Gifts can be romantic.” You argued.

He scoffed.

“I bought a half a million dollar painting for Steve and I’m not trying to date him.” He pointed out.

“That’s not what the internet thinks.” You said.

“What?”

“Stucky is life.” You smirked.

“Stop trying to change the subject.” He ordered.

“Fine, you can get me gifts. I actually like the flowers.” You begrudgingly admitted.

“I know you did.” He said cocklily, placing a hand on your hip and pulling you towards him.

He was all confidence and swagger as he ducked his head down to brush his lips over yours. Despite all your bravado, you melted at his touch. He made a low growl of approval at the way you surrendered into the kiss, parting your lips for him.

“Ahem.”

You pulled away to look sheepsihly at the figure stood sat the door, grinning lasciviously at you both. Sam wiggled his eyebrows at Bucky.

“Bucknasty is finally getting some!” He crowed happily.

“Wilson, get the hell out of here.” Bucky growled, flexing his metal arm in warning.

“No can do, Cap sent me to get you for training in the gym.” Sam said, winking at you.

“That’s fine. If you’ll excuse me Sergeant, I have business to attend to.” You said, pushing him out of the room as best you could.

He went willingly, giving you a dark look that let you know you were going to pay for it later.

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

“Princess, can you check the new room is soundproof.” Tony asked as soon as you walked into the lab.

“This is why you asked me up here?” You groaned, walking into the empty glass room.

“That and I wanna know if you got the D, but you’re walking funny so I assume yes.” Tony said, sniggering at you.

The doors whooshed closed and whatever insult you spat at him, he didn’t hear. He shot you a thumbs up to show you it worked. You rolled your eyes and waited for him to open the doors but he just grinned at you and made a big show of settling back in his chair.

You sighed and ghosted through the glass, or tried to. What actually happened was you walked straight into the glass, bouncing off of it painfully and landing on your ass on the floor.

Tony held on to his desk and howled with laughter, though you couldn’t actually hear it. You frowned in annoyance and confusion and stood up, reaching out to try and faze your hand through the glass. Nothing happened.

“SNARK! WHAT THE HELL?”

He sauntered over to the door and pressed a button that filtered his voice into the glass cage.

“Miniscule vibranium flakes in the glass. And the floor. And the ceiling. Welcom to your perfect prison princess.” He said victoriously.

“Why?” You demanded.

“Oh, I think you know why.” He said with an evil chuckle.

“No! Snark don’t you dare!” You yelled.

“I’ll let you out, in 8 or 9 hours.” He said and let go off the intercom.

He watched you bang your hands against the glass and mouth threats at him for a few moments before he wandered away, whistling jovially.

Six Hours, 20 minutes and 4 seconds Later

“Tony, have you seen... Miss King?” Steve trailed off when he saw your prone form lying on the floor in what looked like a glass cell.

“She’s on a timeout.” Tony said without looking up from the circuit board he was working on.

“Why is she on the floor?” Steve asked with concern.

“She’s given up on life.” Tony chuckled.

“Why?” Steve said suspiciously.

Tony got up and pressed the intercom button for the cell.

“Never gonna give you, never gonna let you down.”

“Tony let her out of there right now.” Steve ordered.

Your head lifted when you heard Steve’s voice and you scramble over to the door and looked pleadingly at him.

“In a couple more hours.” Tony said.

“Let her out right now or I’ll go and get Pepper.” Steve threatened.

“Come on Cap, she started it.” Tony whined.

“And I’m finishing it. Let her out.”

Tony sighed and opened the doors. You fell out and flung your self at Steve’s legs.

“Thankyou Captain! It was horrible in there!” You wailed.

“Are you alright?” Steve asked kindly as he helped you to your feet.

“I’ll be ok, I can get through this.” You sniffled dramatically.

“Well I came to find you because I thought you both should know, Frank managed to get inside your Buggati Stark.” Steve said.

“What? What did he do?” Tony demanded.

What Frank had done was absolutely decimate the inside of the custom sports car. He hadn’t just clawed the Italian leather of the seats to shreds, he’d pulled the stuffing out of the seats, scratched the hell out of the polished dash, chewed through the steering wheel and someone manages to pull wires out of the stereo system.

“Boss, is this a good time to tell you that Mr Frankenstein has also peed on three of the Iron Suits and is currently marking a fourth?” Friday asked.

Tony looked so mad you thought steam was going to come out of his ears.

“Run.” Steve whispered to you and grabbed your hand, pulling you away.

Tony’s shouts of rage followed you as the two of you giggled and fled.

“What are you two doing?” Natasha asked as you ran past her.

“Nothing.” You both said in unison.

“Hmm. Well I was looking for you Koroleva. We have a slight problem.” She said, passing you a tablet.

“Wait what?” You shrieked, grabbing the tablet.

“I’m going to kill him.” You muttered darkly.

“Kill who?” Steve asked.

“Uncle Thaddeus.”

You showed the tablet to Steve.

“But this isn’t true.” He said.

“No, it isn’t.”

“What’s going on?” He asked, looking between you and Natasha.

“We might have planted the idea in Ross’s head. Before Alexander King escaped.” Natasha explained.

You shook your head in exasperation.

“Well at least I look good in black.” You said.

“Better get your best mourning face on Koroleva, this is going to be all over the headlines tomorrow morning.” Natasha informed you.

Your father might be alive and well and on the run, but in the eyes of the world he was officially dead. Which meant he would be harder to find, but it also made you the majority shareholder of the Company.

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

Kind of a lot went down in this chapter, I didn't even realize till after I wrote it. Sorry! 

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[i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend]

First Choice ~ Steve Rogers x Reader One shot (Modern!AU)

A/N: Hello my lovelies!! Happy Monday! I hope this is the start of a great week for everyone. 

This fic is for the lovely @kaunis-sielu ‘s Marvel Musical Challenge  Go check out this amazing writer! (Persephone is a personal fave) 

I am constantly inspired by you, darling! Thanks for letting me participate in this challenge! 

Enjoy! 

My song was Perfect by Ed Sheeran. 

Summary: You’ve always been Steve’s first choice whether he realized it or not. 

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader 

Rating: K+

Warnings: Language, mentions of a deceased parent, I think that’s it. 

Word Count: 4851 (This one kind of got away from me) 

You rolled your shoulders back, desperate to release the tension that had been building through eight hours of pouring over merger documents.

Your phone buzzing distracted you from debating a seventh cup of coffee. You smiled when you saw Steve’s name and photo pop up on the screen.

“Hey,” you greeted when the video cleared up.

Steve was clearly still in bed and had probably just woken up. It was only seven in the morning in New York.

“Hi, stranger. Sorry I missed your call last night. It was showcase.”

“No worries. I totally forgot about that. How was it?”

“Really great. I have some very promising students, and seeing them get such a positive reception was so awesome.”

“That’s wonderful.”  

He sat up and ran a hand through his messy blonde hair, yawning through his next words. “What did you do last night?”

“Not much,” you shrugged. “Just watched some Netflix. Did some laundry.”  

“So you worked,” he guessed, calling you out.

“Maybe.” 

“You look stressed. Have you been taking care of yourself?”

“Yes. Work’s just kicking my ass. This merger is like three days from finalizing and it feels like I need to do another six months of work before it’ll be ready. But other than that. I’m alright.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, it’ll be done in a few days. Just need to push through.”

“You can do it. You always pull through.”

“Thanks, Stevie.”

“What comes after the merger?”

“I’m not really sure. Once it goes through, there will be some restructuring so I’m not quite sure where I’ll end up. What I do know is that I’m definitely taking a vacation as soon as possible.”

“You definitely deserve it. Are you going to be able to take any time for your birthday?”

“I don’t think so. If I’m lucky it will wrap up the day before. And frankly I would take just being able to breathe after all this. I wish you were here,” you mumbled as you dragged your knees up to your chest.

“Me too.”

You chatted for a while longer before you begrudgingly admitted that you should probably get back to work.

“I’m glad you called. I needed it.”

“Anytime. Have a good week. You’re going to kick ass. And try to have fun on your birthday.”

“Thank you. I love you, Steve.”

“I love you too, y/n. Talk soon.”

“Say hi to Bucky for me.”

“Will do. Bye.”

Placing the phone face down, you smiled at the picture of you, Steve, and Bucky that sat in the corner of your desk. Steve’s bright grin stared back at you and not for the first time since you moved to London two years ago, you ached for your best friend.

 Despite your worries, the merger went through without a hitch. The London office broke out the champagne as soon as the papers were notarized. The party moved directly from the office to the pub. Mr. Peterson opened a tab and the drinks flowed freely.

“Come on, y/n. Get off your damn phone. No more business,” Allie teased.

“It’s not work. I’m trying to convince my friend that I’m not drunk,” you slurred loudly.

“But you are drunk,” she giggled.

“I know, but Stevie doesn’t need to know that. Come here and take a selfie with me. That’ll convince him.”

She was drunk enough to agree that this would totally convince Steve you were fine. After ten minutes and about 15 photos that were just blurs, you gave up and in your infinite drunken wisdom decided to face time him.

“Hi, y/n,” he chuckled.

“Hi, Stevie. I just wanted to tell you and call that I’m totally drunk not.”

He hummed, obviously unconvinced.

“Clearly. Do you think you’ve had enough, sweetheart?”

“Nope.” You popped the “p”.

“Will you at least drink some water and eat something?”

Your friends were cackling at his attempts to mother hen you from 3000 miles away.

“I ate some pretzels. And some chips. That’s French fries here,” you tried to whisper.

“Okay, that’s good sweetheart.”

“Y/n, get off the phone and come do singles shots.”

“I’ve got to go, Stevie. I love you.”

“I love you too. Please be safe, sweetheart.”

His earnestness cut through your alcoholic haze. It always did.

“I will,” you promised.

“Good. Go have fun. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Oh, and happy birthday.”

You blew him a kiss and ended the call.

“Where’s my shot?”

 You arrived home shortly before dawn with a couple coworkers in tow and collapsed.

It was around two o’clock when you finally regained consciousness. Allie and Jasmine were just starting to stir when you handed them aspirin and Gatorade.

“Thanks, boss,” Jasmine mumbled.

Allie groaned something at you.  

“Well, it’s officially single’s awareness day. What do you ladies want to do tonight?”

“We could go to the pub,” Allie suggested perking up.

“Seriously?” Jasmine groaned. “I am partied out. Besides the pubs will be miserable tonight.”  

“How about a girl’s night in? Take out and mushy movies?” you suggested.

“And wine,” Allie added making you roll your eyes.  

“Alright. And wine. How does food from that Italian place down the street sound?”

“Delicious. In about three hours when I’m not nauseous anymore,” Allie grumbled.

“It will probably take that long to get delivery on Valentine’s Day anyways. I’m going to hop in the shower if you want to check out the menu.”

You tossed them the flyer and headed for the bathroom.

An hour later all three of you were showered and dressed in comfy clothes. The food had been ordered and you were searching Netflix for the right romantic movie to start off the night. You had just settled on While You Were Sleeping when the door buzzed.

“There’s no way the food got here that fast.”

Allie and Jasmine shrugged as you crossed the room to the buzzer.  

“Hello?”

“Delivery for Miss Y/l/n,” a man responded in a somewhat rough accent.

Weird. You glanced over at your friends who shrugged. It was your birthday you supposed, so maybe your dad had sent you something.

“Okay, come on up.”

You buzzed him in, in no mood to trek down four flights of stairs. He moved quickly; you had just enough time to grab your wallet to tip him when he knocked on the door. When you checked through the peephole, all you could see was the giant bouquet and a baseball cap.

Warily, you pulled open the door.

“Here you go, miss,” he said in that strange accent. It definitely wasn’t British but it was familiar. The closest comparison you could make was a Brooklyn accent.

He couldn’t possibly…

You were already grinning as you pulled the roses out of his hand.

“Oh my god, Steve! You’re here,” you squealed, tossing the roses on the island before jumping into his arms.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

He easily maneuvered you inside, pulling his bag with him and shutting the door.

“What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“Well, I was going to just send you a care package with a few of your favorite things, but then I thought I am your favorite thing so I bought a plane ticket instead. Surprise.”

He was being flippant, but you could see the way he was cataloguing your appearance. He’d been worried about you. He wanted to take care of you.

“Besides, I wasn’t about to let my best friend celebrate her birthday without me.”

“It’s your birthday?”

Jasmine smacked Allie for interrupting the two of you. They were both leaning over the back of the couch watching intently.

“Yes,” you giggled as you finally peeled your attention away from Steve. “I guess that cat is out of the bag. You guys remember Steve right?”

“How could we forget?” Jasmine commented pointedly and you glared.

She insisted that you two were madly in love after he came to take care of you when your appendix burst the summer before. She was half right.

“Nice to see you both again. Are you keeping y/n out of trouble?”

“Absolutely not,” Allie assured him with pride.

“Good.”

He grinned and glanced down at you. Although he’d set you down on your feet, you were both still holding each other.  

“You’re just in time. The food will be here in a little while and we were just about to start our movie marathon for the evening.”

“And what are we starting with?

“While You Were Sleeping,” you grinned.

“Your favorite. Do you ladies mind if crash your party?”

“Not at all.” Your friends answered in tandem.

 After four movies, Jasmine and Allie decided to call it a night and head out. You offered for them to spend another night, but they both declined shooting you mischievous grins as they left.

Once they were finally gone you curled up next to Steve on the couch.

“How long do I get to keep you?”

“You’ve always got me. But I’ll be in London for the week. It’s February vacation.”

“That’s so exciting,” you squealed. “This is the best birthday present ever.”

“That reminds me. I’ve got a real present for you.”

You whined quietly when he pulled away but he just chuckled and kissed your forehead.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be right back.”

He retrieved a rectangular package from his suitcase and handed it to you before wrapping his arm around you again.

You shook it curiously before meticulously removing the wrapping paper. When you flipped back the lid on the velvet box, you immediately began to tear up.

“Oh, Steve. This is… thank you.”

You pulled the charm bracelet up to inspect it more closely. There were twenty charms in total – one for every birthday you had had with your mom before she passed.

“Thank you so much. Here help me put it on?”

You put the box on the side table and handed the bracelet to Steve before extending your wrist. His large fingers worked the clasp much more easily than you would have thought possible. He pressed a kiss to your palm and then wiped away the tears that had been gathering on your cheeks.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist and burrowed into his side. Steve held you close.

 It was quiet for a long time. Both of you content to just be with each other.

“So how’s home?” you asked finally.

“Not the same without you.”

You scoffed.

“I’m serious.” He gently moved you off his chest and you furrowed your brow. “Y/n, there’s something I’ve got to tell you.”

The clear emotion on his face was worry which sent your heart hammering. You ached to reach out and touch him but since he had put space between you, you refrained. It was a relief when he covered your hand in both of his.

“Y/n, I…. I’ve always… I mean you’ve always… I mean… ugggh.”

He hung his head. You reached out to stroke his cheek with your free hand.

“Hey. You can tell me anything. It’s just me.”

“That’s just it. You’re not just you. At least not to me. Not anymore. I’m not making any sense am I?”

“Not really?”

“You and Bucky have been my best friends for as long as I can remember. It was always the three of us. When you left everything felt a little off. Bucky and I both felt it, but eventually he got used to it. But for me it never felt right. I kind of ignored it and started dating Sharon.”

You had no idea he felt this way. And honestly you had no idea where he was going with this.

“When you had appendicitis last summer. I was a wreck when we hadn’t heard from you for more than two days. When your dad finally heard and called me, all I could think about was getting to you to take care of you.”

You smiled and squeezed his fingers.

“I didn’t tell you then, but Sharon and I broke up that day. She said that me packing up to come here at the drop of a hat was the final straw. And she gave me a choice. Stay or break up.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. You knew Sharon didn’t like you very much, but breaking up with Steve because he wanted to take care of a sick friend?

“I’m so sorry, Steve. I didn’t mean to cause a rift.”

“Y/n, you didn’t do anything wrong. You never asked me to come. I wanted to. And even if you had asked me, it was my choice. I would have done the same thing if it had been, Bucky.”

“Of course. And he and I would do the same. That’s what our friendship has always been like.”

“I know. And I tried to explain it that way, but she insisted that what I felt for you was different than what I felt for Bucky, and that it wasn’t the first time I had clearly cared more about you than her. Honestly, she had been pissed for months because her friends had seen me in the jewelry store around Valentine’s Day and they convinced her that I was going to propose or at the very least buy her a nice set of jewelry. So when the holiday rolled around and she got flowers and monogrammed journal and pen, she got pretty bent of shape.”

“Wait. Why were you in the jewelry store?”

“I was talking to them about your bracelet. I wanted to get it done for you last year for your 25th. But I couldn’t get the charms from your dad on time.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So when she gave me a choice between picking you and her, it was a no-brainer. You’ve always been my first choice.”

“And you’ve always been mine.”

His answering smile was soft, before he sobered slightly still needing to get through what he had to say.  

“Like I said before. For me, you and Bucky were everything to me. But you were a package deal. Never one without the other. But, everything changed when I stayed with you for a month. Or maybe it didn’t change, I just finally opened my eyes. Either way. It was the first time that there was no Bucky. No Wanda or Sam. No anybody. It was just you and me. And god, it felt so right. I finally had that missing piece back.”

He raked a hand through his hair and took a deep breath before trapping you with his cerulean gaze.

“I know that this will change everything for us. One way or another. I was scared to tell you for a long time because I was scared I’d lose you, but I’ve always believed in you, and I’ve always believed in us. And whether you feel the same way or not. You deserve the truth. I’m in love with you, y/n. I think I always have been.”

You squeaked at his confession. You had never dreamed that Steve would feel the same way about you.

You could see the nervousness growing on his expression, but you couldn’t find the right words so instead you leaned forward and kissed him firm on the lips. He was stunned at first, but after a moment, he responded eagerly.

“I take it that means you feel the same way?” he laughed as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“I’m so in love with you, Steve. I’ve always been in love with you. Ever since we were kids.”

He kissed you this time, soft and timid. His large hands framed your face, thumb running along your cheekbone as your lips moved in tandem.

 The next week was pure bliss for you. Despite the craziness of the merger, you managed to make time to spend with Steve. Being with him felt completely right, and you had been so close for so long, that a lot of the “future” conversations went a lot deeper than “what’s next in your career?” You could see a life together.

Despite that, you both agreed to take it slow until you knew what the restructuring would mean for you. You had told Steve that it didn’t matter if you got offered a full time position – that you would move back to New York so you could be together. But he knew how much the job meant to you and he made you promise that you would consider the offer.

“We can make anything work between us. We’ve always made the best team,” he reminded you as you walked along the river.

“I know, but I want to know what plans we get to make.”

“It’s only a few weeks, right.”

“Right?”

“What’s a few weeks in a lifetime?”

 The restructuring that you expected to take a few weeks ended up taking a few months, and in June you were still in London. And you were both getting antsy.

You and Steve were having your weekly skype session and he had been distracted during the whole morning.

“What’s wrong?”

He opened his mouth to continue before snapping it closed.

“What is it?” you pressed again.

“Nothing.”

“Steve,” you warned lowly.

“It’s dumb and unhelpful.”

“Just tell me.”

He sighed and debated a few more moments before speaking.  

“I know that you still don’t know what long term is. But I was wondering if you were going to be able to visit for 4th of July?”

You knew what he was really asking. Were you going to make it home for his birthday?

“I hope so. But I’m not sure. Everything is still pretty chaotic here.”

“Okay. Well, let me know when you find out.”

He did his best to hide his disappointment. He wasn’t very successful.

“I will. I promise I’m going to do my best. And it wasn’t dumb and unhelpful. I want to be there. When are you and Bucky heading up to the lake house?”

“June 25th. Bucky will be there for that weekend and then come back on the 2nd.”

“So early?”

“Well we didn’t get up during Memorial day so I need to actually open the house get it cleaned up and aired out before everyone comes up for the bash.”

“Gotcha. Well I’m sure it will be a blast.”

“Yeah. I’m excited.” He offered you a bright smile, but you could see the tension in his jaw.

“Hey, the partners have been meeting pretty frequently over the past two weeks. Hopefully I’ll hear something in the next few days. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no. Don’t be. I’m sorry. I just miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

 The following day at work, you had just gotten out of a review meeting when your boss stopped you.

“Y/n, could I speak with you please? In my office.”

“Of course, Mr. Peterson.”

You followed him, to the upper floor of the building.

“Please, sit.”

You smoothed your pencil skirt and folded your hands in your lap as you waited for him to speak.

“I wanted to speak to you about your future. Now, I know that you were brought in as an external member of the merger team when we started two years ago. But I would like to think of you as part of the Peterson family.”

“I appreciate that, sir. I have certainly enjoyed my time here. It’s a wonderful company.”

“I’m pleased to hear you say that. I have a proposition for you. I would like you to head up our acquisitions department at our new office in New York.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Would that be something you’re interested in?”

“Absolutely.”

“Great.” He pulled a folder from the bottom of the stack to his right. “I’ll believe you’ll find the offer more than fair. Why don’t you take a few hours to review it and see if there’s anything that is a deal-breaker.”

“I will, sir.”

You locked yourself in your office for the rest of the morning. You couldn’t believe how perfect the. It was everything you had ever wanted on a platter. And you would get to be back in New York with Steve permanently.

 In the afternoon you walked back into Mr. Peterson’s office with determination.

“Was everything alright?”

“Yes. It’s an extremely generous offer. I just have a few questions.”

“Of course.”  

“When would the position start?”

“I’m afraid that is the one sticky part. We will have filled the position here in next week but the New York office won’t be functional until the beginning of August. You’ll be compensated of course, but I’m afraid you won’t have much work in that time.”

You had to hide your excitement. The timing was working out perfectly.

“That’s no problem, sir. It will give me an opportunity to relocate and hit the ground running.”

“An excellent attitude. What other questions did you have?”

You ironed out a few more details and the contract was sent to HR for approval before you signed it. As soon as you got out of the meeting, you started planning your surprise. There was one very important call you needed to make.

 Steve felt strange making the drive up to the lake house by himself. Usually it was the three of you going up, but you were stuck in London and Bucky had bailed at the last minute, citing a work emergency. So he cranked the radio in his truck and let his thoughts turn to you.

He was expecting the house to be musty when he unlocked the door, but it smelled of fresh flowers and baked goods instead. For a moment he was concerned that he had walked into the wrong house, but the familiar height tracker on the wall told him differently.

Silently he lowered his duffel to the floor and pulled the baseball bat out of the hall closet. He heard running water and soft humming coming from the kitchen and crept forward.

When he glanced around the corner he couldn’t believe what he saw. You had your headphones in and were dressed in workout shorts and your track team shirt from high school, and you were dancing as you washed the dishes.

God you were gorgeous. And you were here.

He hadn’t realized that he dropped the bat until he heard it clatter and you whirled around.

“Steve! What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?”

“Bucky said you wouldn’t be here until later this afternoon. I had a whole plan. Romantic dinner. Candles. Pretty dress. Instead you’ve got a bit of a jet-lagged mess. Sorry to disappoint.”

He shook his head as he strode over to you and pulled you in for a bruising kiss. You sighed when he swiped his tongue across your lips as he sought entry. His hands on your hips urged you to hop up and he placed you on the counter, eliminating the height difference.

“Let’s be clear, y/n,” he rumbled when he finally let you breathe. “You are beautiful. No matter what you’re wearing. The only thing that matters is that you’re here.”

“I’m here.”

“Wait a second. So are you the reason Bucky bailed on me at the last minute?” he teased with an arched eyebrow.

“Guilty as charged. When I found out that I had the time off, I wanted to surprise you. And much as I love Bucky, I also wanted you to myself for a few days.”

“That was a very good idea,” he growled as he captured your lips again.

Instinctively you wrapped your legs around his waist and before you knew it he was carrying you upstairs.

You happily reunited with Steve for a few hours before you kicked him out so you could execute the surprise you’d been planning.

Once he was gone, you quickly assembled dinner before showering and changing into your favorite dress. You left your hair natural and your make up light and pretty soon you were ready. You just had to wait for Steve to return.

Right on cue, you heard the crunch of gravel in the driveway and hurried to the bottom of the stairs so he’d see you right as you came in.

“Wow,” Steve whispered when he opened the door. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

You were surprised by the awed look in his eyes.

“These are for you,” he held out the bouquet of red roses, and you inhaled.

“Thank you. Again. Let me put these in water and then I have dinner waiting.”  

“Where are we eating?” he asked as he peered into the dining room and living room and didn’t see anything set up.

“You’ll see.”

You set the vase on the counter and took his hand to lead him outside. The food and candles were set up on the picnic table near the end of the docks. Soft music was playing from your Bluetooth speaker. You’d even managed to string up the fairy lights and lanterns from your graduation party.

“Someone was busy. This is amazing, sweetheart.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

You pecked him on the cheek before nudging him towards the table.

“So how was the last day of classes?”

“Really good. One of my kindergartners made me a hand print stegosaurus because I had helped her with her speaking part.”

“Oh, that’s so cute.”

You honest to god swooned as you looked at how he lit up talking about his students. It was dreamy. You couldn’t help but think about him as a father.

“There were a few very sweet eighth graders who came to say goodbye and tell me that they had already signed up for summer art classes. They were pretty bummed when I told them I wasn’t teaching this year.”

“Why aren’t you?”

“They asked but, I wasn’t sure if I would be spending my summer in London or not.”

It was the perfect opportunity to tell him the news, but he stood up abruptly.

“Dance with me?”  

“I’d love to.”

You kicked of your heels and let Steve pull you up into his arms. The two of you swayed as the sun finally dipped below the horizon and the stars started to come out.

“So I have some news. I talked to Mr. Peterson recently about my future with the company.”  

You expected him to tense up but he didn’t, he just gestured for you to continue.

“He offered me a full time position with the company. It’s pretty much everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“That’s amazing. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll call Phil in the morning and let him know he needs to start looking for a replacement.”

It was so matter of fact you rocked back for a second to look at him in surprise.

“Don’t worry. It won’t be out of the blue or anything. I already gave him a head’s up a couple of weeks ago. I told him that I wasn’t sure because you were waiting on an offer, but potentially I would be moving to London to be with you.”

You were floored by his comment. You had thought that the two options were either you moved back or that your relationship was long distance. You never even considered asking him to leave Brooklyn. You didn’t doubt that he would for you, but you knew how much he loved New York and his students. Hearing him so open to that made your heart happy.  

“I am so in love with you,” you breathed.

“Well that’s good,” he chuckled at the unprompted expression of affection. “Because I am very much in love with you. And I’m so excited to start a life with you in London.”

“Not so fast. I’m moving back to New York.”

You expected joy not the frustrated disbelief and disappointment you saw.

“What?”

“Kinda thought you’d be happier.” You mumbled taking a step back from him. Or rather trying.

His hands moved from your waist to your shoulders to keep you in place.

“Y/n, please tell me you didn’t turn down your dream job for me?” Steve groaned, and you realized he misunderstood and the smile returned to your face.

“I didn’t turn down anything, Steve. I’m moving back for the job. Mr. Peterson has asked me to head up the acquisitions department at his New York office.”

“Really?”

“Really,” you grinned.

“YES!” he yelled as he picked you up and spun you around, peppering your with kisses.

“That’s more of the reaction I was looking for,” you giggled.  

“I’m sorry, darling. I just couldn’t bear the thought of you giving up what you love for me.”

“Neither could I. I know how much you love your students. And I’d never take you away from them.”

“I love you, y/n. You’re always going to be my first choice.”

“I know. And you’re mine.”

“But,” you both said at the same time, laughing.

“But, you can choose me without giving up what you love,” you reminded.  

“Agreed.”

Steve hugged you close and kissed the top of your head, and you danced through the night whispering I love you’s against each other’s skin.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading! And thanks again for letting me participate @kaunis-sielu this was a ton of fun! <3 <3 <3 

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[aeon-borealis]

Captivated: Chapter 1

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Note: I’ll be posting future chapters on fanfiction.net and hopefully A03. For now, I couldn’t wait and here’s chapter 1. Enjoy!

1: Welcome to Cress

:Alejandro:

Dark clouds rolled across the night sky and the howling wind dragged at the window shutters. Every time one of the shutters hit the side of the house, I wondered if I could sync up my heartbeat with the noise. Tap. Two seconds passed. TAP. Then my heart thumped. It was a crawling, sluggish beat across a big hollow drum. Such a somber sound.

Jose would describe my internal monologue as needlessly dramatic, Mama would ‘encourage’ me to find a more constructive use for my time, and Papa would tell me to “man up” like he always does. It’s odd to think about. Almost everything I do, say, or muse about is followed by my rough assumption of what Jose, Mama, and Papa would think about the same thing or what comment they might make. The older I get, the more I wonder if I am as much my own person as I want to believe.

I rolled over on the flimsy mattress and looked at the bed across the room from mine. There’s Jose’s sleeping form, barely covered by a thin blue quilt. He snored with the intensity and volume of a chorus of chain saws. Several loose strands of hair are plastered to his forehead and pillow with sweat. He used to be so particular about what length his hair was and strictly kept it very short.

And he has so much stubble now. Band-aids with illustrations of dinosaurs and Disney characters haphazardly covered parts of his chin where he nicked himself with his razor. He used to have such a clean-shaven face. At one point he had bragged about wanting to try shaving the “old-fashioned way” with a real blade.

The only logical conclusion I have been able to reach is that aliens abducted Jose and replaced him with this bum. They can keep him.

***

Carlos was married six months ago now and he didn’t tell anybody. I’ll never forgive him for keeping such a major milestone in his life a secret from me for so long.

It’s surreal sitting across the long mahogany table from Athena, Carlos’ wife. She has short curly red hair, constellations of freckles across her pasty white skin, and a little pixie nose. Other than her physical appearance, the best way I can describe her is that she’s practically a fairy tale character brought to life: She likes to talk with her hands and use grand, whimsical hand gestures. Plus, she has a high-pitched voice and she’s followed by this strong, ever-present apple cinnamon smell.

Tonight she made some kind of cheese-smothered box meal lasagna. Carlos was so proud, going on and on about how little experience she had cooking, how he cooked most of their meals, and how she was slowly but surely learning how to cook real food. Lovesick Carlos was being generous when he lavished praises generally reserved for a fine crème brulee on a basic pasta. Athena only made things more embarrassing when she openly admitted that her previous diet was a mix of Hot Pockets and other microwavable crap before Carlos “nudged” her towards learning to use an actual stove.

Somehow, I managed to stomach it. I made myself shovel mouthful after mouthful of rubbery cheese into my maw because I love my older brother more than I hate cheap food. I’m expecting to spend most of tomorrow hunched over the porcelain throne as a result, though.

I can learn to make excuses to escape Athena’s cooking. I can learn to deal with one eccentric, but well-meaning person because she genuinely makes Carlos happy. But then he stumbled into the dining room.

Athena asked Jose how work went today. Jose mumbled something incoherent under his breath, spat a chewed-up wad of tobacco gum into a napkin, then unceremoniously plopped down into a chair across from me and planted a sneakered foot on the table top. He’s hunkered down in his thin-fabric windbreaker and trying to hide the bags under his eyes with the hood part of his maroon hoodie. With a tight-lipped frown, Athena placed a helping of her rubber lasagna in front of him.

Jose grabbed it by the tips of his fork prongs and wolfed down the entire chunk of food within mere minutes. I looked down at my own generous helping, idly poking at the amorphous mass with my own fork. Then I looked back at Jose and can’t help the way my eye twitches or the intense urge to shoot my dear brother the iciest glare I can muster.

Suddenly, Carlos grabbed me by the arm and ghosted me into the nearby hallway. He knitted his thick eyebrows together as his face morphed into that stern expression that used to be permanently plastered to Mama’s face.

“Please. Try to be civil, Alejandro,” Carlos said with a deep sigh.

“I am. He’s the one stumbling in like an uncultured barbarian...”

“I know.” Carlos’ gaze trailed off for a second. Then he turned back towards me, pinning me with his dark eyes and making me hold his gaze. “Look. I’m not happy about our current situation but the way I see it, he’s my brother and he deserves time, space, and understanding while he sorts himself out. He’s acting like a rebellious teenager, yeah, but Athena and I decided we should pick our battles with him.”

“So, he’s a charity case like Mama and I?” I couldn’t keep the biting edge out of my tone.

Carlos glared at me. “You’re not a charity case. Never use that phrase around me again, got it?”

“Seriously, Carlos. What could possibly be going wrong in the world of the high and mighty Jose Burromuertos?”

“He lost his entire fortune and had to declare bankruptcy a few months ago,” Carlos replied with a heavy sigh.

“So he squandered all his money. What an idiot. Everything played out exactly like Papa said it would...”

Carlos’ eyes narrowed dangerously and his nostrils flared. There was a bull seeing red behind those eyes and he was visibly shaking as he tried to tamp down and contain his anger.

“Ignacio officially disowned him about a week ago.”

My blood suddenly ran cold and I could swear my pupils were the size of bowling balls.

I felt like the world had broken and shattered beneath my booted feet. Papa was stern and he could be cruel. But, he would never. He couldn’t have. Even after Carlos ran away from home years ago, Papa never gave up on him. He even kept Carlos’ name on his official will. There was a trust fund Carlos could pull from at any time he wanted. And this was despite Carlos resisting Papa’s will at every turn and arguing furiously with him every chance he could.

Jose was the model son. He’d always been the golden standard Papa and Mama both pointed at and harshly compared me to.

Carlos found his voice again. “Jose is very aware of exactly how bad his situation is. We’ve had some very long, hard talks about this already. I’m actually trying to help him bounce back from this. Despite his appearance and behavior, he’s trying to bounce back from this, too. He needs all the support he can get right now.”

There was silence for a long beat. I couldn’t think of anything particularly meaningful to say. This was enough to blunt my sharp-as-a-tack brain.

Furrowing his brows, Carlos placed a hand on my shoulder and lightly squeezed. “Alejandro, be nice to Jose. If for no other reason, do it as a favor to me. We’re all in the same rickety boat right now and we’ll have much smoother sailing if you and Jose can get along for more than five minutes.”

I tried to swallow the large lump in my throat.

With that, Carlos lightly clapped my back, then gestured back towards the dining room.

As I walked back in, I noticed Mama had decided to join everyone. She seated herself next to Jose of course. Since I had been shocked by him, I can only imagine what was running through her mind. Mama nervously adjusted and re-adjusted her pea-green shawl while tugging at the loose ringlets in her dyed pale blond hair. The tips of her hair were starting to turn light brown again. Considering our current situation, I wouldn’t be surprised if I see Mama with a head of graying hair within the next several months.

“Is your room okay?” Carlos appeared beside her chair, lightly touching the curved back.

“Yes, it’s fine,” she said with a dismissive wave. She purposefully turned her face away from him, trying to hide the way she was curling her bottom lip.

The attempt was in vain. Carlos himself was biting his lip and, quite possibly, a snarky remark. Before the awkwardness escalated any further, Athena placed a plate in front of Mama with a meek smile and lightly pulled Carlos away to where they were seated.

Mama critically eyed the lasagna for a long moment, then pushed the plate away and hurriedly stood back up. “I’m not hungry. Thank you, though.”

She scurried out of the room as quickly as she could. Barely a minute after she left, Jose slid her plate towards him and devoured the lasagna with as much wolfish gusto as he had previously. I looked down at my plate for a moment, considered pulling a similar move with my food, and then sneaked a glance at Carlos and Athena. The two of them were speaking quietly and it seemed like Athena was on the verge of tears.

Any mere mortal would be driven to the brink of insanity living with one Burromuerto, let alone three. With a deep sigh, I forced another forkful of the food into my mouth.

Perhaps Athena’s cooking will finally help me overcome having such a sensitive stomach.

***

As much as I hated the prospect, Carlos was very firm about me getting a job. Athena is pregnant. Mama and I are tight on funds and allowed to live in Carlos’ respectable-sized townhouse rent-free. So it’s only fair that we pulled our weight somehow.

To my chagrin, being a delivery driver at this hole-in-the-wall pizza restaurant Kelsey’s is the only job I’ve been able to find within the past month. I can and will find better but for now, this will do.

About two hours into my shift, I’m already sick of the cheeky grinning rooster on the wall clock. A portly man stared at the menu with vacant eyes and drool collecting on his lower lip. The restaurant was pretty much deserted except for a stressed-out single mom and her babbling toddler. All I could think about is what kind of terror my future niece or nephew will be when I look at that little girl. She was peeling the wrappers off of crayons and ripping them into confetti strips. Then she placed those same crayons between her tiny knuckles and salivated all over each one. I’m going to have to clean up after that little monster. Ugh.

The portly gentleman finally placed his order: two different pizzas with a series of ridiculously complex toppings. As if taking fifteen minutes to confirm his order wasn’t frustrating enough, he leaned over the counter and gawked at everyone on staff with this bizarre and intense I’ll-eat-you-alive-I’m-that-hungry expression. What made matters worse was how often he kept licking his lips. Dios, I can’t accurately describe the immense relief I felt when he finally took his pizzas and left.

“That’s Don. He’s a regular,” someone said conversationally.

One of my co-workers sidled up next to me. My day just became ironically brighter. She’s a cute Goth girl with shoulder-length multi-colored teal and blue hair.

“He’s...something.” I tried to keep my eye from twitching too much.

“He’s creepy, but not in a fun Tim Burton kind of way.” She laughed as she wiped her hands off on the front of our restaurant’s obnoxious orange uniform apron.

“We’ve been taking bets on if he’s a stoner or mental ward escapee.” Another co-worker joined in on our conversation. He had a bright green Mohawk and several eyebrow piercings. I was mildly surprised he’s able to wear them while on shift.

He leaned on the front counter and grinned obnoxiously. “My theory is Crazy Katie is his wife. She orders the exact same crap he does. Right down to the extra extra sausage and pineapple chunks.”

“You have quite the background story for a complete stranger...” I chuckled softly.

“Gotta do something to entertain ourselves around here,” Mohawk replied. “What else we gonna do? Clean?”

“Speaking of...” The Goth girl pulled a questionable-looking yellow rag out of her apron pocket.

“You get to clean the toilets!” Goth girl and Mohawk crowed at me with the same obnoxious gusto as a too-eager, slightly sadistic game show host.

“Wait...I’m the delivery driver. Shouldn’t we-”

Mohawk snagged the rag and shoved it in my face. “Sunday afternoons are dead, dude. Take all the time you need.”

In a perfect world, I would find a way to turn this around and convince Mohawk to clean the bathrooms while I chatted up the Goth girl. Unfortunately, my efforts would be useless: Mohawk and Goth girl were the only two other employees, Mohawk was wearing an Assistant Manager tag, and the Goth girl had sneakily and flirtatiously shoved her hand in Mohawk’s back pocket.

I took a deep breath. “Is there...better equipment I can use?”

Mohawk cackled like a discount Saturday morning cartoon villain. “You got whatcha got in the broom closet.”

“Alright.” I winced as I took the proffered rag and shuffled off to find the broom closet. My nostrils shriveled up as soon as I opened the door and a myriad of horrible, questionable scents drifted out. My stomach was cartwheeling as I dragged the scuffed-up mop bucket, dingy mop, and other assorted materials towards the tiny unisex bathroom.

Mohawk whistled and I briefly turned to shoot a withering look at him. He winked and saluted in the most obnoxious way he could. Ice radiated up my spine as I remembered when Jose would make similar condescending and mean-spirited gestures at me.

“Pendejo.” I tried to whisper the word as low as I could under my breath. It’d be difficult. Very difficult. But I have to keep my irrational anger in check. This guy is definitely a jerk, but he’s not anywhere close to the same level as Jose. He gives off schoolyard bully vibes not I’ll-ruin-your-life jackass vibes. I’ve tamed schoolyard bullies before. I can handle him.

“What’d you just say?” Mohawk waltzed up to me with his fists on his hips.

“Nothing. Nothing...”

“I know you called me something.”

“Hijueputa,”I spat at him with a big, churlish smirk.

“Son of a bitch?” He was starting to grin now. “Is that the best you’ve got?”

“I’ll refer to you as every nasty slur I know if you wish.”

“Come on, dude.” He lightly clapped my shoulder. “Next time, it’s my turn to clean the shitter. I’m not a complete ass.”

“I don’t know. You’re the spitting image of a burro to me.”

At that, he started laughing and lightly punched my arm.

“Look. I’ll sweeten the deal by throwing in a free pizza.”

I grimaced. No thanks. I’ll take another rubbery lasagna from Athena before I’d ever consider eating the food here.

Mohawk laughed again. “I hate the pizza here too. I only eat as much as I do cause it’s free.”

I sighed heavily and made my way towards the bathroom. Smear-stained mirrors and pubic-hair covered toilet seats were quickly becoming more appealing than one more minute with the assistant manager’s awkward small talk.

***

The first day at my new school finally came. I was exhausted. Utterly exhausted. The entire weekend was a mix of avoiding Jose like the plague, stomaching as much of Athena’s terrible cooking as I could, and spending more time in bathrooms than I ever have in my life. The one highlight was that my supervisor at Kelsey’s was true to his word. After I swabbed the deck that afternoon, he took cleaning duty after a drunk stumbled in and...I really don’t want to entertain that mental image right now.

Just as I was reliving that nightmare, I saw my coworkers hanging out in front of the massive blond brick school building. Duncan was shamelessly smoking a cigarette and had his free arm slung around Gwen’s shoulders. He made some kind of lewd, crass comment and she was laughing to the point of tears. Gwen was definitely head over heels for this loser for whatever reason. I suppose he has some kind of roguish charm or charisma to him. He’s certainly the classic definition of a bad boy type.

Duncan looked up and caught me looking over at them. Then he waved lazily and gave me a cheeky monkey’s grin before immediately turning back to Gwen.

I rolled my eyes and headed inside. Despite how I felt, I was hoping that I could revitalize my weary spirit in an environment I know how to sow and develop to my liking. Cress is a smaller city in the pocket of the larger, more glamorous New York City. It’s small enough to cultivate starry-eyed longing for something bigger and greater than small town life, but big enough to have a fairly diverse student population. There are the stereotypical cliques and hierarchy, but then there are the eccentric outliers. I already passed by one student outrageously confident enough to walk the school halls wearing a cape and Star Wars light saber. He was even accompanied by a fairly attractive redhead rocking an old-school librarian look.

While I’m disappointed that the lovely Gwen was already taken, there are already plenty of other prospects hanging out in the front lobby alone. Excuse the inappropriate and archaic description, but I felt like a ravenous squid at a high-quality sushi bar.

There was a shapely brunette girl wearing a knee-length tan skirt and matching platform boots chatting with a blond girl that had Sunglasses on her head and an old-school Hollywood aura about her. Another cute redhead with pigtails and big brown eyes was animatedly talking to a moony-eyed blond in a sweater and lavender tights. Before I could even decide what to do next, I was approached by a green-eyed blond with her hair tied back in a long ponytail.

“Hey!” She seemed a bit sheepish as she extended her hand. “I’m Bridgette. Awkward question. Are you the new exchange student?”

I put on my most charming smile and gently kissed her knuckles. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’m Alejandro.”

“A-ah….” She blushed furiously as she took her hand away.

“Excuse me for being so forward, but you’re very beautiful. I’m especially drawn to your eyes. They’re the same shade and color as jade.”

“I-I have a boyfriend,” Bridgette squeaked. “I’m flattered, but...I have a boyfriend.”

“He’s quite lucky to have you.” I smiled again and winked at her.

Bridgette only managed a low, incomprehensible noise this time.

Coincidentally, a lean and slightly muscled blond in a pink button-up shirt walked over to us at just the right moment. He had one arm draped around the true foreign exchange student and was fastening a gaudy button to the younger boy’s shirt. It had a poorly illustrated squirrel on the front.

“And this is my lovely girlfriend-” The blond fellow stopped when he saw her beet-red face.

As if directed by his sixth sense, he slowly turned his head towards me. I waved and gave a faux innocent smile as the gears slowly turned in his mind. Once everything clicked, one of his eyes started twitching slightly.

“Are you okay, Geoff?” The exchange student lightly tugged at his light pink button-up shirt.

“Just peachy,” Geoff replied through gritted teeth. Before the exchange student could prompt him again, he pulled away and adjusted the collar of his shirt as he cleared his throat.

“Geoff...hey...” Bridgette looked like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“Hey, are you another exchange student?” Geoff asked me, trying with some difficulty to keep his composure in tact.

“No. I am a new student, though.” I shot my most oily smile at him. “Your girlfriend definitely gave me quite a warm welcome.”

Bridgette’s blush intensified, Geoff became even more visibly furious, and the exchange student just looked baffled.

“...can you help me find my locker?” The exchange student piped up.

“Of course!” With that, Geoff made a very blatant display of slipping his arm around Bridgette’s waist and glaring daggers at me. “Bridgette and I are happy to help however we can!”

“Hey, do you want to come, too?” The exchange student looked over at me expectantly. “Maybe we can help each other out.”

It would be so fun to wind up Geoff a bit more and sneak in a few more comments to fluster Bridgette. Honestly, though, it’d be far more refreshing to flirt with someone more receptive and free right now. I’m itching for some witty banter or ego-boosting comments after the weekend I had.

“No, I’ll be fine. Thank you, though.”

Just for good measure, I winked again and blew a kiss to Bridgette when she sneaked one last look at me.

While I wanted to try and flirt with one of the other girls in the lobby, I wouldn’t be surprised if a few of them had witnessed that exchange and picked up on the tension. I probably already shot myself in the foot by being extra obnoxious. So I decided to venture a bit further into the school and see what else I could find in the forty minutes I had left to kill before classes started.

***

The library at Cress High was surprisingly large for a public school. There was an elegant domed ceiling, a computer lab with some of the highest-end computers and tablets on the market right now, and rows upon rows of books at least seven feet high. A short page wandered the aisles and there were step ladders in the middle of each aisle prompting students to ask the page for help in obtaining a book from one of the taller shelves.

A few students were milling around the aisles or clumped around tables staring intently at smart phones. Considering the location and atmosphere, I was hoping to stumble across a shy violet with her nose stuck in a weighty tome somewhere around here. Instead, I found a stressed-out brunette in the middle of one of the aisles. She was surrounded by reams of “Vote Courtney” stickers, fliers, and buttons. All of the promotional materials were professionally done up with similar colors and theme to President Barack Obama’s well-known Hope poster.

“Would you like some help?” I bent down and folded my arms on my knees.

“Yes, please!” Courtney bellowed, her tone slightly strained. “At least there’s some helpful people around here...”

I started scooping up some of the various materials and arranging them in appropriate piles.

“So, I presume you are running for class president?”

“Yes!” She beamed and her eyes lit up like a string of fairy lights. “I’m hoping this will finally be my year! I’ve been class treasurer for the past two years. It’d be nice if I got to be president for senior year, you know? It’d look so good on a college application!”

“I certainly hope you win.”

Let’s see if I can steer the conversation from fluffy yes-man compliments towards something else.

“Thank you!” She was grinning ear to ear now. “I have so many new policies I want to put in place, too. Unlike the current president, the witch that shall not be named, I actually listen to people...”

“Mm-hmmm.”

“That b-I mean, witch, only wants the position because she can abuse her power to call in favors for friends. She’s such a bitch that that’s the only reason she even has friends. And, I mean, that’s the only reason I can conceivably see Lindsay, dumber than a sack of rocks Lindsay, of all people being captain of the Chess club. Or Dakota being able to start her weird retro fashion club...”

Courtney went on like this for some time, complaining about other students I didn’t and may never know. The one element that caught my attention was her strange fixation on and utter hatred towards the current class president. The more mud-flinging she did, the more fascinated I was by who this witch was. I definitely needed to keep tabs on her if only to secure my own place in Cress High’s hierarchy.

Courtney took a deep breath as she started, hopefully, coming down from her long-winded rant. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Courtney actually stopped to look at me. I turned towards her and held her gaze, trying to put on my most charming, heart-melting smile. Apparently, it was effective because she dropped all of the precious materials she’d been clinging to and absentmindedly reached up to touch her cheek.

“You’re...you’re gorgeous...” She muttered.

“And you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve seen at this school,” I replied, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “On top of that, you’re smart, ambitious, and you obviously care very deeply about the welfare of your fellow students.”

Courtney sighed happily as she bit her lip. “Yeah. That’s all true.”

“You’d do a fantastic job running this school,” I said in a dramatic stage whisper.

“Keep telling me how great I am.” Her eyes were shimmering.

“You’re a very capable, powerful woman. Seize the day!”

“Yes!” She clenched her fists. “I’ll beat Heather this year. I can do it!”

Suddenly, the bell rang and Courtney’s pupils shrank when she realized that she still had a mess to clean up. I sighed and rolled my eyes when she wasn’t looking then started shoveling miscellaneous materials into her backpack. She was gritting her teeth and stuffing everything back in with reckless abandon.

“I can’t be late...I can’t be...” The poor girl uttered the words like a mantra.

She was so caught up in her own thoughts, she snagged the last few things from my hand and took off like a rocket. So I was left sitting there on the carpeted floor with my mouth slightly agape. From what I can tell, I just served as faceless emotional support and it’d be very difficult to follow up with her now. No number. No date. Not even a loose thread for picking things up again later. Was I losing my game?

***

I refused to let Courtney deter me and had a few different phone numbers by lunchtime. Grinning, I scanned the lunchroom, hoping to find the cute dark-eyed, long lashes brunette I’d been chatting up all throughout English.

To my surprise, someone grabbed my arm and whirled me around to face her. It was Courtney, lids lowered flirtatiously and light pink lip gloss applied to her lips. The color was garish but I was too excited by the underlying implications to care. Batting her eyelashes, Courtney walked two fingers up my chest and suggested going somewhere more private.

To my further surprise, she dragged me to a little mom and pop sandwich shop and even offered to buy me a sub. That wheat and turkey sandwich was the best food I’ve had in about a week now. Dios, I had to restrain myself from tearing it apart like a ravenous, wild wolf. Courtney spent the entire time talking about herself and her grand goals, but I was more than happy to listen since she’d been generous enough to buy me something. There were even a few interesting and helpful nuggets sprinkled in about other students that I mentally filed away for later.

Perhaps, Courtney is girlfriend material. It’s been awhile since I last seriously committed to someone. I still think about Gabriel ever so often and every time, I feel kind of sad. We honestly had a lot in common and gelled very well, but the physical attraction didn’t stick. He felt more like my platonic best friend than my boyfriend. I don’t have the most honest track record in regards to my love life but I will be merciful. There was no way I was going to string the poor fellow along.

Between thoughts of Gabriel and staring longingly at Courtney’s lips, I decided to just wait and see how things progressed. Aggressive and assertive girls definitely hook me in faster than anyone else. I just need to make sure I don’t fall too hard too fast. It’s better that I be the one with a level head no matter how much of a romantic I am.

Courtney folded up her napkin, tossed it in the nearest bin, and grabbed the collar of my shirt.

“Let’s head back to my car.” It was a demand not a request.

Minutes later, Courtney had pulled off under some trees at a nondescript park. She immediately snapped off her seatbelt and rolled on top of me, forced the seat back just under the windows, and wrapped her arms around my neck. She dived right in, her kisses as strong and powerful as she tried to present herself.

About five minutes in, Courtney pulled away and gave me a very stern look.

“Is something wrong?” My heart was already sinking to the pit of my stomach.

“We’re going faster than I normally do...” She sighed, her face falling.

“We can slow things down,” I assured her, even though my pounding heart and hormones screamed otherwise. “I honestly prefer to do some pretty extensive wining and dining before going too far. How about we head back to school for now and plan another date for later this week? I’d be more than happy to treat you next time.”

Courtney sighed, then crawled off of me and back into the drivers’ seat. She folded her arms on the steering wheel and dipped her head forward, covering her face with a curtain of brown hair. The hopeless part of me noticed how the dappling sunlight painted yellow highlights across various strands and sections of her hair. It was an impromptu, natural halo.

“Alejandro...I’m so sorry.”

“What for?” I was trying to decide whether or not it’d be a good idea to put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I just got out of a bad break-up.” She tilted her head and looked over at me through half-lidded eyes. “My ex cheated on me with my best friend and...I just. I’ve been trying so hard to keep it in. So hard.”

“Oh, wow...I’m very sorry to hear that.”

“When I saw you this morning, I had to have you. I was scared if I didn’t make a move right now you’d be snatched up by some other girl. But I think I moved too soon, you know?”

I felt like I was being tugged in two different directions: one part was extremely sympathetic while the other wanted to crush cars with my bare fists. Before I acted too rashly, I took a deep breath and ran a hand through my hair. The better move here is to play the kind gentleman providing a shoulder to cry on. In a few days, I could collect myself and hopefully, make more meaningful progress with another one of my prospects.

“You’re okay, Courtney. You’re in a lot of emotional pain right now and people act quite irrationally when they’re upset enough.” I tried to smile in a sweet, reassuring way. “Let’s just be friends for now. I’m happy to be someone to confide in for now. And when you’re up for it, we can try this again if you want to...”

Courtney sniffed a few times while giving me the most pathetic look she could. She pulled a tissue out of her glove box, wiped her eyes and nose, then looked back at me with a strange determination in her eyes.

“Promise me something, Alejandro?”

“What is that?” A sense of dread crawled down my neck and I could feel the ghost of Courtney’s lips from a few minutes before.

“When we become exclusive, you won’t ever cheat on me.” Her eyes were daggers, pinning me to the car seat.

I swallowed hard and involuntarily raised my hands in an “I surrender” gesture. “Never.”

“Good.” She nodded and readjusted herself.

Then she spent an agonizing five minutes preening herself with the car mirror. Sweat raced down the back of my neck and I was imagining shackled wrists. If only I had another ride back to school.

As Courtney drove back, she slipped back to her normal demeanor. She carried on a one-sided discussion about how she wanted to decorate the gym for the upcoming Homecoming dance. It took all my will power not to bash open the side door and take off at roadrunner speeds once we returned to school.

“So...here’s my number,” Courtney said shyly, holding up her phone and showing me her details.

Heart hammering in my chest, I took out my own phone and pretended to punch in her details.

“Got it.”

“Text me, okay?” She smiled sweetly and chuckled. “Walk me to class?”

“I’m sorry, Courtney. I promised the science teacher I’d help set up his next presentation.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet, Alejandro.” With that, she waved and took off for her next class.

As shameful as this is for me to admit, I skipped my last class and spent thirty minutes splashing my face with water and mulling over my new Courtney situation. I even took the time to scrub at the lip gloss marks, but even after I’d wiped them off, I could still feel a lingering tingle. It was rare that a kiss came with such a heavy price tag attached.

***

On the way home, I grabbed a cheap greasy McDonald’s burger. Then I holed up in my room, or more specifically, the room I shared with Jose. I was so thankful he had an all-night shift at the gas station tonight.

I wedged myself in the corner of the room wedged between my bed and the wall. Overflowing with shame, I reached into the paper bag and dug out the cancer-on-a-bun burger. My eyes started welling with frustrated tears as I tore off the thin yellow wrapper and took a big bite. No matter how much I thoroughly despised McDonald’s, it was still better and a quick, convenient substitute for Athena’s rubbery pasta.

There was a knock at the bedroom door. My shoulders sagged and I closed my eyes, smiling wryly at the sliding lock on the door. Both that lock had been pulled across and Jose’s computer chair had been wedged under the knob.

“Alejandro? It’s dinner time!” Carlos called out. “Mama and Athena are waiting.”

“I have a big test tomorrow!” I called back as big fat embarrassing tears rolled down my cheeks. “I really need to study. I grabbed something on the way home so I could get right to it.”

“Care to join us for a few minutes?” Carlos asked, slight concern in his voice.

“It’s a test for French class.”

There were a few beats of silence. Carlos was well aware of how infatuated I was with the French language. I remember gushing to him over the phone years ago about how desperately I wanted a chance to practice speaking and refining my so limited pool of knowledge on the subject. So, this was one of the few lies I knew I could successfully sell him on.

Carlos let out a heavy sigh. “Alright. I hope you do well tomorrow.”

I took another bite of the burger and sloppily swiped at my tears with one of the napkins in the bag. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t get myself to finish the nightmare burger. It ended up in the trash along with the uneaten sugar-drenched fries once I threw myself back on the mattress. The smell lingered heavily in the air. My stomach churned and lurched, but I’ve been getting used to scents from the seventh level of hell over the past week.

Jose had been dragging fast food home for the past week. Somehow, his diet had increased dramatically and the fellow that used to send well done steak back to the chef was shoveling down grease-soaked burgers every night. He was a very broken and defeated man, but he was too proud to express himself or talk things out. Instead, he was turning to fast food for...I don’t know. Comfort?

I guess. I guess I was hoping that it might help me too. If one McDonald’s burger could fill the void growing in my stomach then I could easily balance it out with enough exercise and meditation later, right? I’ve been exercising, but my mind is too rattled to meditate lately.

A few more tears rolled down my face when my cell phone buzzed in my pocket. I scrubbed at my face, hating how gross and weak and utterly pathetic I felt. My heart sank to the toes of my boots when I glanced at the screen. But I steeled myself and answered anyway.

“Hello Papa...” I managed, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

“Hello Alejandro. I have a proposition for you.”

“Yes…?” I felt so low right now it was hard to summon up any kind of reaction. All I knew was that he was about to dangle something in my face like a callous fisherman baits an unsuspecting worm. He’d always enjoyed pitting Jose and I against each other by offering exclusive opportunities like a chance to go to a prestigious private school in Paris or a violin lesson with the best violinist in the world. All it took was furthering our hatred for each other and achieving some arbitrary, petty goal that ultimately made Papa look better in the long run.

“I remember how you used to go on and on about wanting to study architecture at the Pratt Institute...” Papa said with a certain smugness and satisfaction in his voice. What I imagined was an anthropomorphic cat with a wide, devilish grin full of sharp, glinting canines.

“Yes?”

“I’ll cover your full tuition if you get straight As this semester and become the president of at least two school clubs as well as earn the class president title overall.”

A big lump formed in my throat as I shot a tired look at the architecture books lying at the base of my bed. Blueprints and pictures of beautiful, arcing Gothic cathedrals filled my mind’s eye. Drool collected on my bottom lip and I swallowed hard.

“And you know what kinds of connections I have.” He chuckled softly. “I could set you up with a job right out of college.”

My heart was stuck inside of a piano getting played by an insane pianist that kept pounding the pedals. Every heart beat was strained and painful as if my heart was set between a piano hammer and string.

“What do you say, Alejandro?”

He knew he had hooked me in. I was a helpless fish, desperately floundering about and trying to return to the placid waters below.

“Yes.” I swallowed hard. “Yes, I’ll do it.”

[agoddamnbeautifulidiot]

Flicker of Hope

Chapter Eleven: The Agreement

A/N: Hope you all enjoy it! Send me some feedback. Love you all <3

Radio silence. 

Three full days of radio silence.

And yes, maybe it was self inflicted. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. 

The moment you’d kissed Niall, you’d felt every dream you’d ever had come true. And then he’d opened his mouth.

“Oh.”

That one word will haunt you for the rest of your life. The panic and fear you’d experienced after had driven you all the way outside and several blocks down before you’d hailed a cab and went back to your flat, tail firmly between your legs.

You’d buried yourself in work. It was the only way to cope. The tab to buy plane tickets had been opened and closed more times than you could count. Running as far away as possible seemed like an excellent idea until you’d realized the only place you could go would be home. With all of the drama with your sister and Josh, you’d decided it was better to handle that from an ocean away.

So here you are, three days and six hours into your self forced isolation. Coffee mugs and empty take away containers litter your table, surrounding your computer and the same spot you’ve been sat in since you woke up.

The buzzer by your door sounds and the hope that it’s Niall causes a skip of your heart. You deflate when you realize it’s probably just the delivery for the lunch you ordered.

Pressing the button, you grab your purse for the tip and wait as the elevator chugs up the one flight to your door. When it opens, it’s not at all what you’d expected.

“I wanna know what the hell is going on!” Tara demands as she storms past you and into the apartment. Mouth wide, you turn and watch her take in the space. “It’s disgusting in here, what’ve you been doing?”

Your mouth opens and closes several times, but no sounds comes out.

Tara crosses her arms and stares at you expectantly. After a moment, she sighs. “Alright, you and Niall are being very mums-the-word right now and I don’t like it. It’s my job to be in the loop.”

“Niall?” It’s all you can say and it’s practically a whisper.

“Yes, Niall. Ya know, dark hair, blue eyes. Wears those ridiculous caps that we all pretend to hate but secretly love. Niall.” The confused look she gives you speaks volumes. Apparently Niall wasn’t talking about any of it either. “So are you gonna pony up and tell me what happened or do I have to try to ring it out of him again?”

At your silence, she rolls her eyes and removes her jacket. She grabs several mugs off of your table and carries them to the sink.

“I dunno what’s gone on between the two of you, but you’d better figure it out. I’ve got a sulking pop star on my hands and from the looks of it, you’re in no better shape.” She continues to clean up the mess you’ve made, throwing away empty containers and rinsing out mugs for the dish washer. “Thank goodness Niall has someone to do his hair and make him up or he’d probably look like you right now.” 

Brows furrowed, you glance down at your sweats and faded t-shirt. Your hand goes to your hair, the bun on your head floppy against your hand and you’re sure that Tara has to be right.

“It’s just been a rough couple of days.” You find your voice, running your hands down your shirt to brush off any dirt or crumbs.

Tara nods suspiciously. “Well if you’d tell me why, maybe I could help.” When you shake your head, she sighs. “The two of you are literally the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. I’m gonna go gray because of you idiots.”

“Hey!” It’s a half hearted protest and only serves to make her snort and shake her head at you. Crossing your arms, you enter full pout mode.

“Don’t give me that face,” Tara warns, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel and leaning against the counter, eyes trained on your face. “I’m serious though, if you need to talk I’m here.”

The soft way she says it makes tears press at the back of your eyes. Shaking your head, you open your mouth, sighing when the buzzer saves you from bearing your soul.

You press the button to open the door, giving a sigh of relief when the elevator opens and the delivery guy steps out. Once he hands you the food and gets his tip, you shut the door and turn back to Tara. She’s just watching you, arms crossed and eyes slightly narrowed.

“You’re holed up in your apartment, living off of tea and take away so I’m going to safely assume it’s something he did and not the other way around.” There’s a slight question attached, but you simply shrug and start pulling food out of the bag. Tara grabs two plates and helps you dish out the Chinese for both of you. Apparently she wasn’t going to leave until you’d come out with it.

You sit, side by side on your couch. Tara makes small talk and you make an effort to respond in a way you think will make her happy.

Afterwards, she makes the both of you tea and you realize how nice it is to have someone take care of you after three days of your own miserable company. You sip it, staring out the window by your chair as she watches you closely.

“Y/N,” She says it so softly that you have to look at her. “I’m your friend. Please tell me what happened.”

You can’t stop the tears when they start and it’s the first time you’ve let yourself cry over this. Tara scoots towards you and rubs her hand soothingly up and down your back.

“I’m such an idiot, Tara.” She’s shakes her head, but you just nod your head. “I let myself think that he was—that we were—and then I just kissed him.”

Tara’s hand stops and her eyebrows shoot up. “You kissed Niall.” It’s not a question. She knows you’d never make anything like this up.

With a nod, you rub your sleeves under your eyes and nose, sniffling in an effort to hold yourself together.

“And what did Niall say about that?”

Sniffling, you let out a small sigh. “‘Oh.’”

Tara blinks at you for a moment, eyebrows furrowed as she takes in what you’ve said. “He said ‘oh’?” At your nod, she starts to rub your back again, the look on her face one of confusion. “What does ‘oh’ even mean? Why would he say ‘oh’?” You shrug lightly. “Well what did he say after that?”

“I don’t know. I left after that. Didn’t need to actually hear him tell me he didn’t want that with me.” One of her eyebrows raise and with Tara, you know that means business.

“So you left,” She sighs and pulls her arm back. “Didn’t even let him get another word out? My god you’re both idiots.”

“Hey!” Tara stands up and grabs her phone off the table.

She seems to push several things before lifting the phone to her ear. “Hello idiot #2. I’m over here with idiot #1,” You glare at her but she ignores you. “And we’d love it if you joined us.” She’s quiet for a moment. “Yes, now get your arse over here.” Hanging up the phone, she gives you a hard look up and down. “You’ve got thirty minutes. Go shower and put on something that doesn’t smell.” 

Helping pull you off the couch, she gives you a decent shove over towards your room. With Tara, there’s no arguing so you don’t bother to try.

Once you’re in the shower, you take a moment to breathe. Obviously, that had been Niall that Tara had called. The thought of seeing him again after what you’d done was really messing with your head. When you started rubbing conditioner on your body instead of body wash, you knew it was time to get out.

Finding an outfit was easy. Niall had seen you in just about everything, so you didn’t feel the need to try to impress him. Jeans and a simple t-shirt seemed the perfect outfit to maybe lose your best friend in.

“Stop it,” you harshly whisper to yourself. “Those thoughts aren’t helping anyone.”

When you hear the front door open and close, your nerves start again tenfold. You press your ear to the bedroom door and strain to hear as Tara brings Niall inside and forces him to sit down on the couch. Steeling your nerves, you slowly pull the door open.

The living room gets quiet and you come around the corner. Niall’s eyes find yours and you look away quickly, finding Tara’s gaze. She glances between the two of you.

“Alright, I’m gonna leave you idiots to deal with this.” You and Niall both give her a slightly desperate look. “Nope, you lot are on your own. No running away,” She points at you and then Niall. “You’re here until you figure this out.” 

When Tara’s gone, you and Niall sit in silence. He on the couch and you in your chair across the room. You can feel his eyes on you, yet you can’t bring yourself to meet them.

He sighs. In your peripheral vision, you see him lean forward and place his elbows on his knees.

“Least ya could do is look at me,” He says softly.

Slowly, cautiously, you raise your eyes to meet his. His eyes are a sea of emotional. Blue and gray that calls to you; has always called to you.

“There she is,” His voice melts over you and you’re suddenly nervous again. “Let’s talk about dis, yeah?”

Keeping quiet, you let him take the lead. “Alright so,” He sighs again. “The other day, we were—when I said—“ Rubbing his hand down his face, he stands up to pace. “I just—I just wanna know why.”

Your voice is stuck in your throat as your mouth opens and closes around no sound.

Niall’s hands go up and then to his hips as he looks at you. “Why would ya kiss me and then just leave? What we’re ya thinkin’ den? What in the hell are ya thinkin’ now? I just need ya to talk—“

“I wanna forget about it.” You blurt loudly. Niall stops, hands going to his hips as he stares at you. “I don’t know what I was thinking, it didn’t mean anything.” His eyes watch you, a little something like hurt flashing for just a moment. “I just want to forget about it and go back to our lives.”

The room is silent and still as Niall stares at you and you avoid his glance.

When he clears his throat, you glance up at him to see him nodding. “Alright. We’ll move on. It was a mistake and we can just pretend it never happened.” The stab to your heart almost makes you lose your composure. Niall grabs his coat and pulls it on. “I’ll see ya tomorrow at the airport?” At your nod, he clears his throat awkwardly and gives a small wave. “Alright. See ya.”

He’s out the door before you can convince yourself to change your mind. When the tears start to fall, you don’t stop them. Despite the fact that you’d both agreed to move on, you had the distinct feeling your relationship with Niall would never be the same.

[pinchevaquerx]

Once Upon A Time In The West

disclaimer: this is so heavily hc based it’s unreal. This will all be canon for my Jesse unless you request otherwise during out RP, or if we’re already RPing something different. Also: yes- I am this horribly cliche (you’ll see what I mean). Yes- I did have to make him suffer this much (trust me, some drafts were even worse). And yes- I have spent far too much time thinking about this man. There IS a tl;dr at the end, don’t worry!

if you are at all concerned by the tags, feel free to message me and I can either give you a better heads up on what they’re for or give you a summary with those parts taken out!

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

In the year 2034, before the Omnic Crisis began, the American government replaced social security numbers with social security chips. The idea was a simple one: if people had their personal ID number implanted on a chip at birth, then identification would never be a problem again. No more unnamed bodies, no forging identities with fake cards, no codes or pins or keys needed to unlock high security features. Everything the government needed to know about everyone was in their chip. 

Jesse was never given one. 

His parents were repeat offenders for drug addiction, and going to the hospital for a delivery while high would have landed them another strike. So Jesse was born at home, never went to the hospital, and thus never received a SSC.

The back roads of Santa Fe were Jesse’s playground. He was allowed to roam, doing as he pleased, so long as he never let adults question him. Naturally, this means he didn’t talk to many people as a small, dirty child who spoke a broken mix of English and Spanish running around on their own worried most adults. 

However, there was one woman just a few streets over, one Ms. McCree, who Jesse adored. For meals, instead of returning home where’d have to scavenge for scraps, he knocked on her door and offered whatever treasures he’d found that day in exchange for food. It was Ms. McCree who introduced Jesse to Westerns and encouraged his love of them.

The one thing Jesse did get from his parents were his survival skills. They knew how to sneak and steal, how to bribe or charm others into giving them just enough to get by, and ( most importantly ) how to shoot. Jesse was a natural at aiming, and his love of westerns only pushed him to practice until he was a crack shot. 

Alias Jesse James

As rough as things were, they quickly got worse. Jesse’s mother grew sick, deteriorating so quickly that there was no time for her to get treatment. After she passed, Jesse’s father lost what little control he had. His drinking grew to be as bad as his drug addiction. Instead of shooting for a hobby, Jesse began to consider it for self-defense. For a while, it was enough to throw things and hide. If he couldn’t find a good spot outdoors, Ms. McCree’s house was always open to him.

It only took a year before his father borrowed money from the wrong people. The Deadlock Gang had been around since before the Omnic Crisis, but during the war is when they really took off. Now, they had near sole control of the Four Corners and their reach was spreading. 

When Jesse was eleven, Deadlock stormed their house. His father was as inebriated as always, so Jesse took matters into his own hands. Recklessly cocky in the way only a child who’d raised himself on too many westerns could be, Jesse grabbed his gun and squared off against the intruders.

Every member was at least ten years older and twice as heavy as the kid. They didn’t take Jesse as a threat, but one member noticed the steady way Jesse held his gun, even if he had poor form. After commenting on this, Jesse’s dad jumped on the opportunity. 

With a mix of confusion and anger, Jesse listened as his dad charmed the ringleader. His father had explained his lack of a chip, how he could slip into places without setting off any of their alarms because of it, how no one would suspect a kid if they did see him, how Jess was already skilled at doing this. An agreement was reached, and in the end Jesse had more or less been sold off to Deadlock to repay the debts. 

Jesse, having avoided his parents as much as possible growing up, never learned his last name. So when Winchester, the current leader of Deadlock, asked for his name upon arrival, Jesse confidently declared himself “Jesse James”. 

The Wild Bunch

Working with Deadlock taught Jesse many things very, very quickly. Despite his usefulness, no one was willing to go out of their way to help him. Jesse had to keep up or get left behind. As good a shot as he’d been before, being placed in situations where he either shot or got shot made him better.

They used him for everything from stealing to carrying messages to smuggling at the start. Once Winchester realized how much more he could do, Jesse suddenly became their ‘secret weapon’. He was sent on jobs as their sharpshooter. Sent to deals as the negotiator. Sent to contacts as the charmer. If Winchester needed it done, Jesse was his man. 

The first time he killed a man he was fourteen. 

It wasn���t for Deadlock, not really. Jesse had done his best to take people down but not out with his bullets, much to the ire of the gang. It did benefit them in the end, though, which meant Jesse didn’t have to reveal the real reason for his first fatal shot. 

During a face off with a rival gang, Jesse found a young kid trying to sneak away in all the chaos. They were younger than he’d been at first, and it infuriated him to see someone else treated that way. To be forced to work for a gang to survive as a kid. Winchester had clearly said to kill anyone they saw, but Jesse refused to even raise his gun at them. Instead, he offered his assistance in getting them out. Just as they were almost in the clear, a member of the other gang showed up. Jesse didn’t even have to think about it before he shot the man square in the forehead. 

The kid got away... and Jesse became a killer. 

After that, it got easier and easier to kill. Winchester was always pleased with the results and Jesse had so many nightmares there wasn’t any time left in the night for more. It was shortly after that when he first pulled of a perfect Deadeye, killing six targets within a matter of seconds.

Doing this caused him a massive headache, with the symptoms getting worse if he did it too frequently. However, Deadlock’s Deadeye gained an infamous reputation and helped the gang expand their territory even more.

Once other gangs realized their secret weapon was a scrawny kid, Jesse became an easy target. Deadlock didn’t want to lose him, but they weren’t willing to do much to help him out. During a botched job, Jesse ended up in enemy hands. He was with them for almost a week, getting tortured for information he wasn’t supposed to know. It’d have been so easy for him to give it all up, but he had a strong, misplaced sense of loyalty for his gang. Finally, Deadlock came to save him only because they needed Jesse for another job. Winchester made sure he knew, not wanting the kid to think he was more important than he was. 

In the end, Jesse was left with several new scars, PTSD he didn’t understand, and severe disillusionment. At sixteen, he finally stopped waiting for the day Deadlock would fully accept him as one of their own. His naive loyalty was shattered, yet he knew he still needed the gang. He no longer worked to gain their favor, instead doing his job in order to survive.

Hang ‘Em High

When Jesse was seventeen years old, Deadlock had finally grown large enough to catch the interest of Blackwatch. They had progressed from their small territory to all over the States and down into Central America. Now they dealt in nearly every area of smuggling: high grade weapons, drugs, tech, information, people... if someone wanted it moved, they’d do it.

Deadlock hadn’t expected the sting, had never assumed someone would dare to attack them on their own turf, and were vastly under prepared. Jesse had been sent out with a few others to hold the attackers back, while the higher ranking members gathered their supplies and tried to run. Both Jesse and Winchester knew the others who’d been sent along were canon fodder, so Jesse didn’t even blink as they were picked off easily. 

Jesse, for his part, was prepared to do whatever it took to survive this encounter. It had been his driving force his entire life, and some unknown gang with a goth aesthetic wasn’t about to change that. 

The Overwatch symbol one of them wore on his sleeve was enough, though. Changing his aim slightly, Jesse stopped making head shots and made sure the rest of his hits weren’t lethal. Killing other gangs was nothing, they were criminals and all around awful people, just as bad or worse than Jesse himself. Overwatch, though, was full of heroes. Despite being his enemy, Jesse couldn’t bring himself to kill a hero, someone who was out there doing good in the world, saving innocents from people like himself. 

Without Jesse’s shooting to keep Blackwatch stalled, Deadlock wasn’t able to get away. Before anyone knew it, most of Deadlock was either dead or captured, with only a few managing to slip away. Jesse had played up his age, played up the innocent look he knew he could fake, and got himself caught instead of killed. 

Man Without A Star

Jesse was kept in lock up for roughly 30 hours before being dragged into an interrogation room. The first agent treated him with kid gloves, which irritated Jesse enough that he immediately dropped the act. Only one person had ever been allowed to talk to him like a child, and that was before he’d been forced to grow up. 

The first agent walked out in frustration, yelling how Jesse wasn’t a ‘kid in the wrong place at the wrong time’ after all as the door shut behind him. Proud, Jesse promised himself he’d kick the second agent out even faster. This time, the man left after ten minutes with a bloody nose. He’d gone for the bad cop role, getting up close to yell in Jesse’s face, and had gotten headbutted for his efforts. 

The third man that walked through the doors didn’t just change the game, he ended it entirely. Gabriel Reyes was both everything and nothing like Jesse had expected. His mere presence demanded a respect that Jesse didn’t know how to give. 

Their conversation was quick, to the point, and heavily one-sided. Jesse wasn’t treated like a child or a criminal. Reyes laid out the facts at first, with no hints giving his thoughts away. Ballistics had come back from Jesse’s gun, revealing much more than Jesse knew was possible. He was linked to several impressive shootouts from the past three years, proving he was the Deadeye they’d had their eyes on. The majority of wounds he landed on the Blackwatch agents weren’t fatal, and based on the perfect head shots from before, it was intentional.

There was no doubt that there was enough evidence to send Jesse to a maximum security prison for the rest of his life, regardless of his age. After all that, when Jesse’s head was down, Reyes made his offer: Blackwatch or prison. Neither sounded great, but a gilded cage was better than a maximum security one. 

This time, he gave the name “Jesse McCree”.

The Good Old Boys

The first few years were the hardest. Jesse had rarely slept as much as he should and never ate as much as he needed. Thus, he was all skin and bones with only enough muscle to get by. Reyes became his personal trainer, working Jesse harder than he’d ever worked in his life. The military like routine was awful, but the results came quickly. 

Not even a year after joining, Jesse hit a growth spurt, his form finally filling out to match his gangly limbs. While he now had three meals a day, the nightmares still plagued him enough that sleep was rare. Once he was allowed on missions, though, they exhausted him enough that he’d pass out the second debrief was done. 

Emotionally, things moved much slower. 

Jesse had never trusted anyone else before. The closest he got to caring about anyone had been Ms. McCree, and even then had been it based more on survival than companionship. The concept of team mates and watching someone else’s back were foreign to him. At least once a week, Jesse was given a reprimand for fighting with fellow agents. 

Seven months after joining, things hadn’t improved. However, that was when Fareeha Amari came to stay with her mother. She hadn’t heard anything about Jesse before seeing him, but immediately grew attached as he was the only person even close to her age. The twelve year old girl managed to do what no else had, and gained Jesse’s trust and friendship. 

Thanks for her efforts, it wasn’t long before Jesse’s trust extended to the entire Strike Team. None of them became as important to him as Ana or Gabe, though. Once he opened up to them, Jesse trailed after the pair like a puppy. While Ana became his greatest mentor, Gabe eventually grew to be more like a father figure. 

At first, he hated everyone who wore the blue of Overwatch, but especially Jack Morrison. On the surface, he was the perfect poster boy, a shining example of the law. He seemed to be an amalgamation of everything Jesse hated about authority. It was only after he grew to trust Gabe and Ana, who in turn trusted Jack, that he began to change his mind. They got off to a rough start, with him often seeing just how far he could push before he got in trouble. But, eventually, Jack became another person Jesse considered family.

True Grit

By the time Jesse was twenty-six, he had improved enough to be one of Blackwatch’s best agents. It was around then that Talon grew more powerful, and soon began to directly attack Overwatch. On a mission to take them out, the Second-in-Command was killed while saving his team. Following the loss, Gabe promoted Jesse to take his place, stating he had been next in line for a while and this was just a bit sooner than planned. 

When Genji Shimada joined their ranks, a part of Jesse assumed he’d be able to reach past his walls like Fareeha had done for him before. As a result, Genji ended up shoehorned into being Jesse’s partner, as it turned out they worked perfectly together. While Genji never grew past his hate during his time in Blackwatch, Jesse still formed a deep attachment to the man. In his mind, he’d care enough about their friendship for the both of them, and that’d be fine. 

Good things never last forever, and while Blackwatch wasn’t exactly good, they sure weren’t as bad as Talon. But somehow, despite their best efforts, Talon managed to infiltrate Blackwatch right under their noses. Important files went missing, agents disappeared, missions went wrong. 

Things really came to a head the last three years of Overwatch’s existence. Blackwatch was exposed, putting them on an indefinite hiatus, which let Talon take the lead in their struggle. Amelié Lacroix was kidnapped and Gerard was murdered in his own bed. Everything was falling apart, to the point Jesse wasn’t sure who he could trust anymore. 

The final straw was Ana’s death. Jesse only lasted another three weeks after the mission before he realized he couldn’t take it anymore. Fareeha had left for the military, Genji had left for peace, Angela was working at Oasis most of the time, and Gabe was just as distrustful as Jesse himself. The only person he had left had been Ana. 

So, with his mind made up, Jesse left an informal resignation letter (that was closer to an apology) on Gabe’s desk before sneaking out one day. Jesse was thirty years old, not formally recognized as a person as Blackwatch had never created a birth certificate for him, and had no plans. 

Three months later, Watchpoint: Zürich blew up, killing the rest of the closest thing he’d ever had to a family.

Lonely Are The Brave

Falling back on the survival instincts that got him through his early childhood, Jesse traveled the world as an outlaw. No one could trace who placed the first bounty on his head, but his gut told him Talon managed it somehow. After that, the price kept racking up. 

There were some things he fully deserved the blame for: some robberies, breaking and entering chargers, a few bar fights, a couple assassination jobs... nothing that would amount to $60,000,000 however. Most of the time he was used as a scape goat. Governments couldn’t pin crimes on an organization they didn’t know was there, after all. 

Jesse spent most of his time investigating Talon. He did research, exchanged favors, raided bases, and questioned agents. Everything he’d learned in Blackwatch was put to use, though it was much slower without a team to provide support. However, following Talon around meant he was usually in the wrong place at the wrong time, making him an easy target for the law. 

Just after the news of the explosion reached him was the worst. In order to cope with the loss, he drank himself into a stupor, loosing several weeks to a blackout binge. For the next month he was in and out of lucidity, staying mostly sober just long enough to get to a new town before drinking some more. Without meaning to, he made his way back to his roots in New Mexico.

It was there that Jesse stumbled across the ruins of Deadlock, working to rebuild themselves to their former glory. Not caring if he made it to the next day or not, Jesse charged in with gun blazing. It’s no surprise that he was overpowered and caught. 

After several days of torture, Jesse was visited by none other than Winchester himself. Since the Blackwatch sting he’d been working to rebuild his gang, refusing to go down without more of a fight. After seeing Jesse on the news when Blackwatch was exposed, he realized their Deadeye had turned traitor. 

Traitors, he said, didn’t deserve to wear the mark of those they betrayed. 

Deep in Deadlock Gorge, where no one could hear his screams, Winchester used a power saw to remove the arm with the Deadlock tattoo that Jesse had gotten as a teenager. After, they dumped him out in the gorge, leaving him to his fate and assuming he’d never make it. 

But Jesse, at his core, is a survivor. He managed to get himself to one of his old Blackwatch contacts, a back alley doctor in New Mexico, who patched him up enough that he’d live. After that, he cashed in a few favors down in Dorado to get a prosthetic arm. It wasn’t the sleekest, but it did what he needed it to. And for a bit of petty payback, he had a skull grafted on the forearm. 

High Noon

Six years of being on the run had pulled Jesse back into his shell. The few people he would still consider trusting were lost to the wind, none of them having been contacted since before he left Blackwatch. He had contacts, those who owed him favors, and those who paid him for jobs, but no allies. No friends.

However, despite himself, Jesse missed his found family. So he kept the old Blackwatch communicator, though he never expected to use it. 

The drinking problem he’d gotten rid of in Blackwatch had come back with a vengeance. Jesse wandered the world mostly aimless, wanting to take out Talon while also not caring if they took him out first. He was only alive due to a mix of stubborn pride and sheer dumb luck. It was only in the heat of the a showdown that he’d decide someone wasn’t worthy to take him out, that they needed to be put in their place. His will to live was weak, but his willingness to give up was entirely nonexistent. 

Then he received Winston’s Recall notice. The video was inspiring on it’s own, but the sight of an old friend meant more to him. Because it had been Winston, instead of some nobody agent he didn’t know, Jesse actually considered responding. He spent three days thinking about it before making up his mind. 

Talon had infiltrated Overwatch once, and while he wanted to trust Winston, trust anyone else who responded to the Recall, he wouldn’t allow himself to be a part of that again. His job was to stop Talon, and no matter how long it took on his own, he was determined to do it. If, after he’d dealt with the terrorists, Overwatch was still around, he’d reconsider. 

But... if they both had the same goal of stopping Talon, well. He wouldn’t hate it if they happened to run into each other while chasing down the same bad guy.

TL;DR

Jesse grew up in Santa Fe with drug addicted, neglectful parents. His mother died when he was young, driving his father to alcoholism and abuse. After borrowing money from the Deadlock Gang, and being unable to pay it back, his father sold Jesse to Deadlock at age eleven. At fourteen he made his first kill in order to save another kid trying to escape from a rival gang. Blackwatch took down Deadlock when he was seventeen, and his skill interested Reyes enough to offer him a job. Blackwatch whipped him into shape and also managed to help him open up emotionally... at least until Talon managed to infiltrate and tear Overwatch down from the inside. When he was twenty-six he was promoted to Second-in-Command of Blackwatch. Ana’s death was the final straw that made him leave at age thirty. Shortly after that, Deadlock caught him and cut off his arm, causing him to get a prosthetic. Jesse refused to answer the Recall notice, but is going to continue fighting Talon on his own. 

[marblesarelost]

Change Your Mind, Change Your Life

                                          CHAPTER TWO

A soft knock on her office door brought her back out of herself, and she looked up from her screen to the door.  “Um. Come in?”  Jane peeked around the door, her grin wide.

“I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU!” She squealed, coming into the office, a wine bottle and two glasses in her other hand.  “Oh my God, Darcy, this is amazing!”

“I know,” Darcy agreed, nodding excitedly.  “Two seconds, Janey, let me save this, okay?”  She bookmarked the article about Doom’s request to the United Nations and saved her notes before closing her tabs and screens and rising from her desk. Her desk.  Yes, it was standard and she’d had one in the lab, but this was hers, in her office, and she was going to do a hell of a job because she knew that they were trusting her and she didn’t even have her master’s yet oh God. “Okay,” she said, turning off the coffeemaker and picking up her bag.  “Let’s go celebrate.”

“All the celebrating,” Jane agreed.  “I’ve ordered dinner and I went downstairs to Michelle’s and got you a chocolate orange.”

“You’re the best,” Darcy said, following Jane out the door and closing it behind her.  The magnetic lock clicked, and she grinned at the nearest camera before heading for the elevator.  “I guess Tony talked to you?”  Jane’s ponytail bounced up and down ahead of her.

“Yeah.  He explained everything, and I’m supposed to start meeting with some of his people in the morning to try to find a new set of assistants. Seriously, I’m going to need at least three to handle what you do,” Jane sighed.  

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, boss --“ Darcy shook her head, brown hair flying.  “You’re not though.  For…for the first time in…”

“Four years,” Jane said softly.  “But I’m glad.  I’m really glad, Darcy.  I mean, I love you, you’re the sister I never had, but…”

“But I need to spread my wings.  I get you,” Darcy agreed.  “Well, the good news is I should definitely be able to afford my own apartment in a month or two, I’ve just got to save up for deposits and everything.”

“Yeah?  That is good news,” Jane agreed.  “Maybe next you’ll get a date.”

“Oh, shut up, I go out,” Darcy said, bumping shoulders with her friend.  It wasn’t long before they were having dinner, Alessandro’s from downstairs.  Darcy moaned just a little as she ate, the lasagna perfect, the breadsticks good and crunchy.  “I didn’t realize how hungry I was,” she admitted, taking a long drink of red wine.

“Isn’t that usually my line?”  Jane said, her smile quivering just a little. “Oh, this is going to be…it’s great, but I just know I’m going to miss you so much in the labs, Darce, I’m used to having you there…”

“Hey, now.  Like I said, it’s gonna be a couple months before I move out anyway, I’m still gonna be around,” Darcy insisted.  “And besides, I’m only five floors down from this floor and four down from the labs.  It’ll be fine, Janey, we can have lunch together, we can go to the movies, it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah.  I know, and I know…Tony said what you’re doing is absolutely essential, really, for the Avengers, it’s just…I don’t like change in my personal life.  It’s hard.”

“Awww.  I know,” Darcy soothed.  “But it’s not going to be that big a change.  It’s not.  And he promised me he would find you somebody good.  So it’s gonna be okay.”

 The next morning found Darcy up bright and early, her heels slightly muffled by the carpet of the building as she went downstairs to her office.  Instead of her baggy sweater over a tee over jeans, she wore a black pencil skirt that fell just below her knees, white blouse, with a sapphire blue jacket for a pop of color.  Her hair was up in a tight French braid, her bag replaced by the briefcase her Opa had given her for graduation.  She nodded pleasantly to the few people she saw in the hallway of her floor, and went directly to her office, the door now bearing a brass nameplate; “Darcy Lewis, political analyst.”  She couldn’t resist the smile that split her face, seeing it there, or taking a picture and sending it to her Opa and Oma.  She had called them the night before, but that, that sort of made it a little more real.

She had just sat down behind her desk, coffee at two o’clock, notepad and pencil before her, when someone tapped on her closed office door.  “Come in,” she called, and the door opened to show a stranger, an older woman with graying black hair.

“Good morning, Miss Lewis. I’m Linda, Linda Garrison.  One of the attorneys for the Initiative.”  Darcy rose from her seat, holding out her hand.

“Good morning, Ms. Garrison. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” the attorney replied, looking over the office.  “Just started?”

“Yes, just yesterday actually.”

“Ms. Potts said that she’s going to be adding more analysts?”

“Yes.  I’ll be heading the political team; of course we’ll leave the PR and the legal aspects to your team and PR, we’ll be offering political advice in regards to the different countries the Avengers might find themselves in,” Darcy explained.  Ms. Garrison nodded slowly, her smile fading a bit, but never quite leaving her face.

“I head the legal team. I don’t know exactly how much we’ll work together, Ms. Lewis, but just in case there’s any friction between your team and mine, I’m who you’ll come to.”

“The same; I hope there won’t be any, though.  I can’t really foresee any,” Darcy said, and Ms. Garrison  nodded.

“Neither can I, right offhand, but one never knows, and it’s always best to know one’s peers and the chain of command.  Well. I’ll let you get to it, my office is up the hall toward the elevator if you should need anything.”

“Thank you, Ms. Garrison. Good meeting you.”

“And you.”  Darcy nodded, shook hands again, waited for the woman to leave before sitting back down at her desk.  “FRIDAY, is there a way to engage do not disturb on this floor for the individual offices?”

“Yes, Miss Lewis. Would you like me to?”

“Give it another half hour, and then yes,” Darcy ordered.  “Jane, any member of the actual Avengers Initiative, and Ms. Potts can override, but that’s it.”

“Yes, Ms. Lewis,” the AI agreed.  “May I ask if the coffee provided was adequate?”

“Yes, it’s fine for now. I’d like to put in an order for a two pound bag of Thunderbolt French Roast starting next week, please.”  

“Yes, Miss Lewis. Weekly or bi-weekly delivery?”

“Ah…biweekly for now, I’ll reevaluate once I figure out how much I actually need?”

“Excellent.  Will there be anything else?”

“Not right now, FRIDAY, thanks so much.”

 Her first real day of work as a political analyst went well, she thought.  She read through the various articles and watched the news clips that had had aggregated over the last six months about the political situation of Latveria, taking careful notes, until lunch.  During her lunch (a very nice lunch of fruit and soup, thanks, she’d had all the carbs the night before) she made notes regarding what she wanted her team to do from day to day, mainly research on what Pepper had called the short-term assignments, the political and social thoughts of the various countries of the world on the Avengers and whether they would accept assistance or not.  “FRIDAY?” She asked once she was done with that.

“Yes, Miss Lewis?”

“What were the date parameters of the Latveria search that Tony ran?”

“Mr. Stark ordered a search for news stories regarding Doctor Doom and the political situation in Latveria between six months ago and two days ago, Miss Lewis.”

“Okay, new search, please. Same parameters except go back one full year, and update with any new stories that have shown up in the last two days,” Darcy ordered.  “And keep it updated with new stories until further instructions.”

“Yes, Miss Lewis. That will take a few minutes, I’m afraid.”

“That’s fine.  Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“You’re very welcome, Miss Lewis.”

By the end of the week, she had the zero draft of her report, she had reviewed a dozen resumes for the team that had been sent on to her by Pepper, and she had a rough idea of how the countries in the EU and some of the Eastern European countries viewed the Avengers.  She felt it was a good start.  There were a few sticky points that she wanted to work out, but overall, it was a good start.

 She spent the weekend combing through thrift shops and secondhand stores, looking for businesswear that number one, would fit, number two, wasn’t all black or gray, and number three, was good enough quality that if it didn’t fit, but could be tailored, she would be willing to make the investment.  She could do some things, taking hems up or down, for example, but she preferred to let professionals deal with the jackets, for example.  

Monday morning, she was in her office at eight-thirty, sipping coffee and looking over her notes regarding the actual national status of Atlantis.  Was it a country?  It wasn’t recognized by the UN, or by more than two or three other countries, one of which was Latveria, which was amusing as Latveria was a landlocked postage stamp, actually, in the middle of Eastern Europe.  But Greece, Italy, and Greenland all three recognized it as a sovereign nation, and King Namor had given several interviews…she should really look into that. If the Avengers had to deal with something rising from the sea, which they had already done on several occasions, they should really have at least a working relationship with Atlantis.  But how?  They didn’t exactly have an embassy, it was common knowledge that most Atlanteans would die if exposed to air too long.  She’d have to think about that.

“Miss Lewis, Mr. Stark and Captain Rogers have just gotten off on your floor, they seem agitated,” FRIDAY warned her.  

“Thanks, FRIDAY. Unlock the door for them, would you?”

“Certainly.”

A few seconds later, Tony and Steve came into her office, both in mufti, which gave her the chance to appreciate Steve in jeans, thank you Dr. Erskine.  “Really sorry about this, Darce,” Steve began as Tony pushed past him on the way to the coffee machine.  He looked as if he had just rolled out of bed, possibly head first. That was definitely yesterday’s AC/DC tee he was wearing, and --

“Tony, are you still in your pajama pants?”  Darcy asked.

“Maybe.  At least I’m wearing pants, be grateful,” he said, picking up one of her novelty coffee cups.  “You’ve got Rebel and First Order and Imperial coffee cups?”

“May the Force be with you,” she said, and he snorted.

“And also with you, Artoo.”

“Does that make you Threepio?  Because you’re the snarkiest bastard in the building.”

“HA!  No.”  He poured himself some coffee, choosing, she noted, the “I run so I can keep up with the Doctor” cup.  “Steve?” That got her attention.  Tony was using Steve’s name.  Not Cap, not Capsicle, not Captain Tightpants.  Steve.  Tony was being serious, or at least trying to.  He turned her office chair around, sitting on it backwards, while Steve hovered near the doorway.

“Okay.  Steve, close the door, get some coffee if you want, then sit down.  Tony. Seriously.  What’s going on?”

“About twenty minutes ago, I got a phone call,” Tony began as Steve, bless him, followed orders. “From the Latverian Embassy.” Both of Darcy’s eyebrows went up. “Doom is coming here, to New York, tomorrow.  His bees are working overtime, because he wants to set up a meeting with the UN and ask, formally, for UN assistance in…” Tony looked at his coffee, took another sip, shook his head.  “He wants to reset his government, I guess.  Change Latveria from, let’s face it, a dictatorship ruled by a literal iron fist, to a constitutional monarchy.”

“Are you serious?” Darcy said when she could find her voice.  “That’s…that’s nothing short of amazing.”

“Yep.  That’s what the guy on the other end of the line said.  I was informed because he wants to ensure that the Avengers know he’s coming on a diplomatic mission.”

“Okay,” she said slowly. “I haven’t had time to do more than a zero draft of my report, but I can email it to you, no problem.”

“And you’ve got time to finish it, Darcy, I’m not trying to rush you, but I -- we,” Tony corrected himself, looking guiltily at Steve, “want your general impressions and conclusions.”  Darcy took a deep breath, blew it out.

“Okay.  General impressions and conclusions?  He’s been working on this for at least the last year,” she began.  “Slow outreaches to surrounding nations, specifically Symkaria and Chernaya. Definite rebuffs toward Putin’s minions; there was a minor diplomatic dustup last year when he and a couple of his robots personally dropped off four Russian agents on the front steps of the Kremlin.  It was…interesting, at least for a few days, over there, but thankfully, nobody got stupid.” She paused to sip her coffee, then continued.  “He’s allowing at least some of his subjects to visit Chernaya and Symkaria now, and he’s put down two attempted coups by a couple of his colonels, both of whom would have probably wanted to keep the police state.”

“That…maybe it’s just me,” Steve said slowly.  “But if you wanted to make your country free, why wouldn’t you just do that?”

“Because they wouldn’t know what to do with freedom, Steve,” Darcy explained.  “They still don’t.  It’s going to take at least a couple of generations before the general populace understands the difference between what they’ve always had, and what they have the chance for.  Even a constitutional or parliamentarian monarchy is better than the despot he’s been.” She drummed her fingers on her coffee cup, trying to think of how best to explain.  “They’ve lived under a very harsh rule all their lives.  They don’t know anything but toe the line, don’t speak badly of Doom, or life in Latveria, or else you disappear.  Allowing small groups to go experience what life is like in Symkaria and Chernaya for a week or two at a time lets the people see the difference between the countries.   He’s lifted the ban on speaking favorably of other countries, yes, that was an actual law for thirty years, you couldn’t speak well of the United States or Canada or the EU if you were in Latveria. He’s upgraded the common standard of living for most of his people, if you’ll give me a second?”  She picked up her tablet, ran a before and after image search on Google, handed it to Steve.  “On the left, you’ll see a common Latverian farm in 1990.”  A small house that could barely be called better than a hut. Four people, man, woman, two children, standing in front of it with blank expressions.  “On the right, you’ll see that same farm last year.”  The house behind the family, which now numbered eight, had obviously been expanded, a real metal roof rather than tin sheets on the top, there was a truck and a four door sedan in the background.  “He imported, at his own expense, a work truck and a car for every Latverian farming family last summer.  Gave it to them.  Flip the screen.”  Steve did so to look at a line of trucks painted in bright, cheery colors, the people standing in front of them smiling broadly, dark skinned and haired, dressed in Latverian folk costume.  “That’s a tribe of Latverian Romani.  He’s always been partial to them, his mother was Roma.”

“He’s buying his people things?  Why didn’t he do that before?”  Steve asked, handing her the tablet, his face blank.  “Why didn’t he try to improve their standard of living before?”

“I don’t know.  What I do know is that in the last year, maybe year and a half, I haven’t finished all the research yet, he’s been making huge strides in improving the standard of living and expanding and opening human and civil rights in his country, and that by itself is amazing.  For someone to just…turn themselves around like this? It doesn’t happen.  It really doesn’t happen.  Not without some form of intervention, not without something happening personally to open their eyes to what they’ve been doing.”

“So he got Jesus?” Tony asked, and Darcy threw her hands in the air, shrugging.

“I don’t know if it’s Jesus, Odin, or Baba Yaga kicked the fear of her into him, but the results speak for themselves.  Victor Von Doom has been making changes in his country and in his rule for the last year. Maybe you guys could go over to Empire State and see if there are any recent Latverian students who are willing to talk to you?  I don’t know that they would, but it’s a possibility.  All I know for sure is that the news stories currently coming out of Latveria, Symkaria, and Chernaya all point to a massive change in the governmental outlook, and the quality of life.”

“Huh.”  Tony sipped his coffee again, leaning back in his chair, his eyes half-closed.  “Steve?”

“I mean, I think it’s great,” Steve said slowly.  “If he really is sincere about all of this, it’s great.  Knowing that maybe in a time of world crisis, we could perhaps ask Doom for backup?  Would be a huge advantage, honestly, because he’s almost as smart as you, Tony.”

“Please, tell me more about how clever I am,” Tony smirked, and Darcy rolled her eyes.

“Be serious.  But on the other hand, what if --“

“IT’S A TRAP,” Darcy and Tony said at the same time, and Tony picked it up.  “Yeah.  It could be. Or it could be he finally took a page out of his old pal Namor’s book, and decided to build instead of destroy.”

“I know you want to believe, Tony,” Steve sighed.  “I know you do.  And honestly? I do, too.  I’d love to have another ally, especially in Eastern Europe. But I can’t just…say I’m from Missouri, I guess.”

“Look at it this way, Steve,” Darcy interjected.  “He’s doing all the right things, and has been for a year.  He’s invested tons, literally tons, of money in fixing his infrastructure and his people’s way of life.  And now he’s coming to the UN for help.  He’s not stupid, not at all.  He knows he can’t just say, okay now, let’s vote on who you want to represent you. The UN is going to want to send teams over there, they’re going to want to investigate themselves.  Can you open your mind enough to give Doom the benefit of the doubt until the UN finishes their investigation, at least?”

Steve was quiet, looking down at his hands for a long minute before his shoulders rose and fell, and he nodded.  “I won’t say I don’t want to be cautious,” he said, looking up at her.  “But we can give a man a chance.  Everybody deserves at least one chance to change.”

“Great,” Tony said, standing.  “Then I’ll call the Embassy and let them know that the Avengers recognize and approve of Lord Protector Von Doom’s visit to the UN, and any unpleasantness will not be started by the Avengers.”

“And give them my office number, would you, Tony?”  Darcy interjected.  “If I’m your political liaison, they should call me from now on.”

“Fuck.  You’re right, Lewis.  My bad.”  He had the good grace to frown, at least.  “You just started the job, hell, we just created it, that’s probably why…”

“No, I’m not mad,” Darcy hastened to reassure him.  “You’re right, it’s not as if we’ve made a big deal about the new position or anything yet.  We can make an announcement after Doom leaves.  We don’t want to upstage his visit, that wouldn’t be prudent.”

“Right.  Okay.  Get with Pepper on that, she’s got the embassy numbers.  Cap, you good?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, rising as well.  “Thanks for your time, Darcy.”

“Hey, it’s what I’m here for.  My advice, honestly, cautious support and observation is the best way to go in this. If he’s for real, we’ll know it; it’ll take the UN at least a year, maybe two, to get the elections set up. If he’s not, he’ll fuck up and show the autocratic DOOM IS BETTER THAN YOU PEASANTS crap again.”  She grinned, bumping fists with Tony.  “Villains, real ones, can’t help themselves, they have to feed their massive ass egos.”

“Exactly.  Come on, mon Capitan, let’s go get Danish.”  The two men left her office, and Darcy shook her head, smiling, as she went back to work.