#i can point you to a bunch of the affordable housing they build year after year

[windovvaving]

aileen ashild aodh.

triggers: ableism (towards an autistic individual; from school faculty), sensory overstimulation (mentions of it happening & how to combat it)

history / headcanons:

uses both neutral & feminine pronouns. tries to keep the usage of each about equal, but if someone just picks one & sticks with it, they won't get mad.

super into fixer-upper stuff, which explains why they live in lakeridge & drive a car older than them! the house they live in is going under remodel by her own hands! she plans to turn it into her dream home.

after four years, they’ve only finished two rooms: the main bedroom & the kitchen. this is because they’re trying to only use their own money on the renovations. & she wants it to be perfect, a dream home.

aileen comes from a pretty well-off family, which is how she can afford to live on her own in denver at 24 (parents pay the mortgage). they originate from castle rock, co, which is south of denver but north of the springs.

she grew up playing outside, never masking, & surrounded by family. even if said family was just her parents and older sibling.

their passion for music started young. see, both parents are in the music industry: mom’s an audio engineer & dad’s front man for an indie rock band. originally, aileen wanted to be a singer like their dad.

but they can’t carry a vocal tune to save their life. so they turned towards mixing like their mom.

which is how aileen landed her first dj job! a classmate (in her arts academy days, more on that below) was having a party & was in desperate need of someone to do the music. enter aileen, well-known to have music-inclined parents. she took the few mixing skills she had at that point to make a (pretty shitty) set.

seeing everyone enjoying the music they put together, even if it wasn’t their words or instrumentals, all of those people enjoying something they made unlocked a new passion.

their dj alias is “ASHE” (though this is the only time i’ll stylize it that way to keep an all lowercase aesthetic). it’s a play on their middle name “ashild.” also, phoenix imagery since their last name means “fire.”

won't get upset if you use her stage name instead of her real one in a convo. sometimes people know her better as ashe & who's she to care.

at twenty, after building rapport in castle rock, aileen set out for the big city. denver! why denver? why not los angeles or nashville or any city known for having a club scene? the sibling from bullet four is here! (i mean, not yet, but i plan on putting a wc out).

life hasn’t been all fun & games for aileen, though. it mostly has been, but being so openly autistic had consequences. school faculty brushed her off, rolling eyes at her “disruptiveness” aka stimming.

when it came to school, aileen made a conscious effort to not vocally stim & to keep other stims small (hair twirling, chewelry, leg bouncing, finger tapping, etc) to a minimum, but teachers didn’t work with her. it hurt her to not stim, but the school environment made i so she felt she had to.

not even an iep helped. this issue cumulated in the aodh parents pulling aileen out of public school & enrolling her in a charter arts academy. the faculty at this school were much better at working with aileen & the environment of a bunch of other public school rejects helped her flourish.

wears sound-cancelling headphones all the time to help with sensory overload. this is especially important when aileen's at the 303 since clubs are overstimulating environments.

being the one in control of the music (& the volume) helps combat that. it's why she can be in that environment for hours at a time.

wanted connections:

her older sibling! i’ll be submitting a wc to the main, but if anyone wants to discuss it already, hit me up. this is the only one that would need to be a brand new character.

fellow djs! not necessarily at the 303 or even professionals, but just someone aileen could talk about music & mixing with.

a best friend! someone they met in childhood*, or high school*, or maybe even during their time in denver. the two became fast friends over shared interests. thick as thieves ever since. (*if a childhood or hs best friend, they'd have to be from castle rock since that's where aileen originates from).

a rival! well, rival is a bit inaccurate. more like someone who just doesn't like her & who she doesn't like either. they'll get into word spars, but it doesn't ever really go too far. only a tiny bit of real heat behind hurled insults. could be a professional rival or a personal one or maybe even someone else obsessed w/ renovation who doesn't like aileen maximalist style.

romantic interest! i like cute romance threads, so a datemate (of any gender) for aileen would be awesome.

if you’re hearing THE RECORD PLAYER SONG by DAISY THE GREAT playing, you have to know AILEEN AODH (THEY/SHE; DEMIFEMALE) is near by! the TWENTY-FOUR year old DISK JOCKEY (DJ) AT CLUB 303 has been in denver for, like, FOUR YEARS. they’re known to be quite BOISTEROUS, but being INDOMITABLE seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble CHLOÉ HAYDEN. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those THE SPARKLE YOUR EYES GET WHEN EXCITED, STAYING UP LATE LISTENING TO A SONG ON REPEAT, & NEON LIGHTS AT ALL TIMES OF THE DAY vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the LAKERIDGE long enough!

*please note that since chloé is autistic, has adhd, & has postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome (pots), aileen will have these traits as well!! she is being written by an autistic mun, but one w/o adhd or pots. aileen's portrayal is heavily influenced by my own experiences.

[medicinemane]

I just had some thoughts on landlords and renting, and you know what? Became a long post, so I'm saving your dash from it, especially cause you can't even reblog it cause I don't want to deal with someone 4 reblogs out wanting a debate

Read it if you want, but I'll compact it

Ok... so... clearly somewhat controversial opinion, but I don't think landlords are inherently bad, I think that many are, but I don't think it's an inherently awful thing

Like I want to make this bit clear, me? I like owning my house, and I'd like everyone to own a house, I think that should be something everyone has the chance to do. Personally I dislike renting a great deal, I'm team homeowner (and death to HOAs)

It's just... I could be wrong here, but I get the impression that not everyone always wants to own a house. That people who are in transitive times in their lives like college, or say... moving away from someone abusive, might want to be able to do something for a year or two rather than having to do full on home ownership

If I'm wrong, if no one like that exists, then sure, fuck landlords all together. I'm not that person. If I'm right though... to do that you do need someone to rent a place out, and... we call that a landlord

I just kinda feel like we maybe need to start being able to distinguish between "person that owns a couple houses and rents the spares out" vs "massive company that buys up everything and then rents them back to people for absurd rates"

Like I remember when covid first hit, there was a story about a landlord who owned a building, and before anything was passed he was already saying to his tenants "don't worry about it, pay if you can but I get what's going on right now"... he had a whole building but... sometimes there's a bit of a difference between how a single person's gonna act and how a monolithic firm is gonna act

Like I'm all for having discussions about how society is structured, how you have a bunch of the haves leasing back necessities to the have nots at crazy prices and how maybe that contributes to the huge wealth disparity we see

It's just... you know how people point out that often with "eat the rich" types they're going after people like doctors who... are comfortable, but aren't rich by any means, aren't the ones with private jets and stuff and man... this feels like another case where people can't be trusted to figure out what rich means... also where only having one word for something leaves people confused and assuming everything called that word is the same

Like I don't have huge sympathy for landlords, that whole "tip your landlord" thing is stupid. At the same time, some dude who rents out a spare house and maintains the property himself, is kinda different to me that someone who owns a whole ton of properties and just siphons off all this money while acting like they're so put upon (you know the types, you see the dumb stuff they say)

...I think I'm gonna make this not rebloggable, less cause of any of you, cause I don't want to be debating some rabid loony 4 reblogs out

This is a letter to the editor tossing out an opinion, not a debate on policy

I just kinda feel like we more need to work on figuring out how renting should be structured and stopping malicious actors from draining everyone dry, rather than saying the very concept of a landlord is evil and doing away with renting entirely (which I've seen specifically proposed, explicitly they stated that people who rent properties should be forced to do it at a loss because they wanted renting to cease)

Again, my horse in this race is fuck renting, I'd love you to all have your own home cause... fuck, I couldn't even survive if I had rent or even a mortgage (don't know what I would have done if I hadn't found this place for $90k, last affordable house in this state)

I don't like renting, I'm not sad if it goes belly up... I just... I can't help but wonder if even some of the people who say they want that would actually be happy owning a home. Surely plenty would but... again, there's a lot of upfront cost to buying (even if prices reduced a lot), and it's something that becomes a lot harder to do things like move if you find you need to

(And if the argument is that houses should just be free... lefty and pro welfare as I am, not sure if that's a good idea. Finding a way to make renting free via things like subsidies and making sure tenets are getting a fair deal I can see, and working to make home buying easier I can see, but if the plan is just to give everyone a house they own... I'm not sure that one would work out successfully in a way that leaves society better off)

Sorry, just something that's on my mind right now. Again, I do agree that fuck the vast about of landlords, cause so much of the US for instance has basically been bought up by a handful of companies and renting is insane

I just worry about all or nothing mentalities where the very concept of someone renting something to someone else starts to become a vile idea

Like I'd be more or less ok with that... I just... wonder if everyone else who wants it has thought it through enough

[midorimoss]

A weird, custom built studio

This past June I moved into an old Victorian home that still had a lot of the original features from over 130 years ago like the solid Oak staircase and dining room tin ceiling. Definitely a unique place to live but even more unique to use as a studio. The garage is a huge two story building that’s detached from the main house. Lower level for cars and the upstairs was just totally unfinished, a blank slate. I turned it into my studio and here are the challenges I faced and how I made it my own, exactly to my preferences.

The walls

I had to learn how to do drywalling and did. I installed the drywall and made sure the place was solid, even adding insulation where I could.

I added curtains, blinds, and cleaned the whole space before doing so. Then I painted it green and white to suit a creative space.

The floors

I need some sound reflecting around. I don’t want a dead room to record instruments in. There’s a little dormer cutout where I sound proofed and that small, single person area is where vocals that cannot allow for reverb or echo get recorded. The floors I installed were high quality vinyl laminate. Basically fake wood. The second most expensive and the most I could afford. This gives me nice reflectivity off the floor. Since the second floor has two sloped walls the acoustics are unique. I spent a lot of time getting rid of the harsh echoes and then used enough sound treatment to just dampen the reflectivity of the space enough to where you get something along the lines of a slapback delay or short reverb. It’s a nice sound and easily removed by using proper mic technique if you don’t want that room sound. A rug in the middle of the room is key to keeping some of the worst sounds from bouncing between floor and ceiling endlessly.

Sound treatment

I used one diffuser in the live room across from the amps and then absorbers behind the line of amps I have so they don’t reflect off the back wall, only the wall they point at. The curtains I have strategically placed to help with that too and I have some pretty thick bass and treble foam that takes care of unwanted frequencies hidden behind wall art. Other foam is just on the wall in a nice pattern wherever I found that the echoes are a little too pronounced. In the end the space feels alive and open at the same time. It has echo but not so much that you feel like you’re in an empty warehouse.

Rooms

I have two rooms in the space. A control room and live room. The control room is smaller and that’s where I made sure to use sound treatment to deaden the space as much as possible. This is where I listen to my mixes, mix, master, and produce everything. I also do some vocal takes in there. It also doubles as my workspace for my full time job. I have a bunch of 20-25’ XLR cables running from the control room to the live room for mic’ing up amps and whatever acoustic instrument needs it. I have a headphone extender that lets me monitor as I record in the separate live room and I use Logic Remote on my iPad to control recording different takes without having to walk back and forth to the control room. I just have to make sure the speaker monitors in the control room are at their lowest volume so they’re not heard in the live room and as long as all that’s done I can sit on my couch and do take after take until I get a recording I like. It’s great.

In the control room is where I exclusively do things like arrange music on my synths, samplers, and other groove boxes like my OP-1, OP-Z, pocket operators, Volcas, and play MIDI synths for plugins in logic on my 88-key MIDI controller.

Climate control

I worried that the extreme heat and cold of Chicago’s summer and winter would make it so I only had a brief window to use the space each year before I had to bring my instruments inside so they didn’t get damaged but I’ve been able to set up a system that keeps the temperature up there consistent all year. In the summer I have a window AC unit that connects to the internet. I have Alexa monitor the temperature and then turn it off and on at preset temps to keep it in a good range. Then for cold months I have a space heater and fan that I also use Alexa to control. Alexa turns them on whenever the temp drops below 72 and stops when it reaches 74. On top of this I have a decently sized evaporative humidifier that automatically runs until the humidity is around 45% so my guitar collection doesn’t dry out.

It’s a great system and my instruments are in a consistent environment. I’ll see if things change if the weather gets real wild but I do have a backup gas furnace in the garage meant for when you’re fixing cars or something that I can use to heat the whole building but it’s a small unit, less efficient that most forced air units but definitely gets the temp up faster than the space heater and keeps it there longer. I expect to use that one when the temps dip into single digits. So far I haven’t had an issue with the temperature going below 72 a single time and it’s never gone above 80 on the hottest days.

So if you wonder what you need, it’s this:

- A space heater

- A box fan

- A smart assistant like Google or Alexa

- A smart plug or power strip

- Internet connected air conditioner

- Amazon air quality device

- An evaporative humidifier

From there you can set up routines for your Alexa or whatever to turn different appliances on or off depending on the temperature.

I didn’t get all this all at once. Took me years. But if you can focus on just what you need for your current season then you have time to plan for the next one.

[the-firebird69]

It's a few other things are very annoying so anyway these people are talking all the time it's very condescending and demeaning and we need to pair them down so you stop doing that stupid crap and they won't until they are your son pointed it out it's not really fair 2 hours not to let them know they're still pretty big and they're going to get cut down pretty soon and right now they lost I think 40% by tonight it'll be 50% and then it will start being bigger groups heading this way and it might be like 2 or 3 million octillion each time and it will go down 10% each time and that's a lot they can't afford that they think they can is there a bunch of jerks and tell me if too is going to be expending like crazy fighting them they're kind of works for us.

You're now beginning to acquire other companies that are very large and they are huge the commercial companies and industrial a lot of them are plastics companies and adhesives and also epoxies and coatings Andy and paints all of that industry is dangerous and we need it they all have massive amounts of voCs tons of which they are releasing recently and we grabbed the plants as they do it. We're moving to take these companies we need someone to move these people they're so f****** annoying. And moving today his granddaddy worked in a huge huge company and it was 3M and is working on the reactors and those reactors were pretty big back then they were about 1400 ft high and really that's like a hundred story building and they were shrinking and expanding three to four feet when they are heated and cool and he said that they had to calculate it or that you would break it and a few times you heard the horn they had to raise it up and it wasn't his and they tried blaming him every time are these people are not very smart and they don't know how to run a basic plastics reactor they don't know how to make the plastic either and they don't know how to extrude it but during the plant messing around with it and they say they need plastic but they don't know how to do it what they wanted to use was what was out there but that's not it's not enough to make to do anything it's just enough to terrorize a few people they think they're going to use a few devices when septillions a day are being hauled in and they're making less now and fairly soon they'll make a lot less. So I don't really know what they're talking about at all and they're not in the right business apparently but it is so damned annoying and they do it and people supply them so they didn't care about it they still don't. But the reactors are making and producing huge amounts of plaster only about 10 years ago and it kind of shutting down all over it was starting them up again and people need tons of stuff including housing this is what we're going to focus on and construction materials and we're making tons of them.

Right now we have about five complexes in Florida that are complete fully and people are moving in and it's a coincidence that the Holocaust apartments are open that these idiots moved into and they say they're snug is a bug and a rug and somebody looked at the pictures and they passed them around and their attitude change little another nasty and evil again and mean so we're building these apartments in the moving in and they are happy about it actually joyful and we figured out something yeah regular Max but they're all so more lok and they've just been abused by almost everybody. But they're passing it out doing their plan so it kind of tolerant to people and they moved in there I think it was bad at all and they're not bad at all that's so decent place and it's safe and bullet resistant impact resistant and fireproof that's a decent rating versus most of the other places around here even the new ones. Now there's about 15,000 people who want one of these today right now we opened up only 2,000 units but we're planning to open up about 45,000 units in about 5 days and after that 100,000 more 4 days later or 3 days later of a total of $147,000 units in less than 2 weeks and that's in Florida and it's a decent amount cuz they don't build thumbs down here but we are now getting the notice to proceed but an hour ago on 5 15,000 unit apartments and that's huge that's $75,000 additional and we got you notice to proceed sign today what about 200 that are about $3,000 on average so that's also about 40,000 other units on different varied sizes so that's like 200,000 units roughly it's over there 240,000 units additional to the $140,000 it's starting to get up there still only a million people and they're not mega complexes but they don't want those yet they want to see how it goes more later but right now we also plan on taking over no we plan on the final signing today for heavy equipment companies and we're going to list that in the next post

Thor Freya

We're going to use this as an example the problems next door they wanted to take over the whole thing and say the reserved it and they're talking loudly and they're being annoying and they're being harassing and they're not aware of the rules that went out no they heard them and they're scofflaws and the max are angry and they're going to arrest them they say they don't care if they get arrested it matters and there's sloppy and lazy and they're going to lose and we couldn't put any effort into them or support because of this now I'm just going to use them as cover and they're horrible horrible people it started ruining the economy and all of it and they would not have any place to live if you weren't for us it's terrible terrible people they have no real plan just to make everyone miserable and is a gigantic amount of hardware below gigantic and tons of it put down there by the clans of bush and the other side tons of it put down there by the clones much more of it huge huge fleets of ships and they're completely ignorant of it you can tell her ignorant of it this sit here and just become massively annoying.

Hera

Zues

Olympus

[zvaigzdelasas]

ok! now i can see the comments.

first of all, maduro is not all to blame for his government. a lot of the country's problems came from the now opposition of right wing christians and fascist nationalists that chávez was in charge to fix.

he did try to fix it when he rose to power and reduced poverty by 20% using the fired up oil prices. even to educate people, like you say, and as it should be. however they did all of this with a very low level of economic sense.

the state became a state devoted to spend and spend. and get debt after debt with a non diversified economy that didn't dedicate its spending to industrialize and better the petrol business. plus he didn't even try to fix the corruption that had impoverished the nation in the first place. this was all of the faults that maduro copied from his predecessor, having the distribution of food completely to himslef, and then, he had the nerve to blame it on the faults of capitalism, the same way you are doing right now. must be amazing not to have the fault of anything at all.

totalitarianism must be defined in this case by the way he wants to endlessly stay in power, the way how, as i already mentioned, threatened his people with not building the 500k homes he had promised over his lost at the legislative elections in 2015. look it up!

the people tried to actually kick him out in a referendum that he slowly killed with the help of the national electoral council.

he has very loyal friends in congress, among judges, in the supreme tribunal of justice, and, as mentioned the nec. also, he has declared states of exception NUMEROUS times to do whatever the fuck he wants.

these are all facts, it isn't a matter of whether i'm a marxist or a stupid nazi libertarian, these are all things that led up to venezuela's downfall.

he even tried to change the constitution that chávez made because even that hinders him from becoming the fascist state he wants to accomplish.

do you actually think the people who denounce him are capitalist brainwashed idiots??? all of them? even those who died in the street teargassed and shot for opposing the absolute tyranny that is going on here??

he even uses paramilitary to enforce his rule, giving out guns to non state loyalists to instill fear and panic.

now going back to what you replied to me: so where did that money go? chávez and maduro were supposed to invest in education, homes and skilled labour? where is that? why haven't they done it after a decade of government? they don't have it because it was all under a brainless economic model that forgot very quickly about the poverty ridden masses that today starve and die under this dictatorship.

just because it had good intentions and just because you have a man with a mouth that babbles against the united states doesn't mean he is the "shining beacon that we must defend", that is literally the same reason why a lot of people voted for donald trump: "because he's funny, because he says things that i like, because he doesn't speak like other politicians"

and frankly i find your take on colombia absolutely ridiculous, while it is true that it is a right wing government, there is a lot of opposition to both the extreme right government and the authoritarian left that lives on the other side of the river.

actually, my sources (and the reason i know so much spanish) come from marxist and leftwing colombian and venzuelan journalists that have discussed with venezuelans of all classes and forms to make actual criticism of the regime and the idiot who controls it

You should check out the post linked at the end here. most of this comment is honestly rly silly & making a whole lot of assumptions I've never said anything about, so honestly just ignoring most of it as a misdirected outburst of anger.

Most of the sources in the longer post are english, but if you want I can get them in spanish too. Neither language nor nationality are signs of trustability.

Check it out

[sunmoonandeddie]

and he kissed me right here

pairing: modern!bucky barnes x reader

word count: 6,100

summary: I've always been sure that all I ever wanted was a glamorous life.

warnings: Cuss words, mentions of the Afghanistan war (Bucky is a veteran), angst, happy ending, cheesy romantic confessions, age gap

a/n:  This is based on the song 'Stars and the Moon' from Songs for a New World! It's the first one shot in my musical series! This is written in first perspective, but there is no physical description or use of a name in this!

Twenty-Two

I sighed as I tossed a few more dirty plates into the dish window, wiping my brow. After a shitty dinner rush and an even shittier rush around two in the morning consisting only of drunk ass college kids looking for some sort of carb to suck up all the alcohol in their systems, I was ready to go the fuck home.

“Sweetheart, you head on home now,” the head chef insisted as he watched my head nod slightly as I tried my best to fight off sleep. “Ain’t nobody comin’ in before Melissa gets here. No point in you staying on your feet any longer.”

Louis was a godsend. At sixty-seven years old, you’d think he would rather be anywhere but a diner at almost four in the morning.

“Nah,” he had said when I’d asked him a few months after I’d first started. “My Ginny died a few years back, and since she’s been gone, I don’t really have the stomach to sit around that house all alone.” He had laughed, but there’d been a deep sorrow that had come over his deep brown eyes. “Kids are worried, but… Sleeping the day away is better than laying up at night staring at her side of the bed…”

“You sure, Lou?” I asked even as I headed for the back room where all the employees clocked in and kept their possessions in their own little cubbies. I did my checkout in view of the security camera, just like always. I didn’t want anyone to be able to say I stole anything.

Everyone who knew me knew that I wouldn’t, but I’d worked at two many places where the girls tried backstabbing each other and sabotaging everyone else to get them fired.

Though people were a lot nicer in Louisiana than any of the other places I’d lived.

Louis chuckled as he set a to-go box in the window, nodding towards it. “Mmhm. Long as Buck is getting you home safe.”

I gave him a joking eye roll as I took the to-go box gratefully, grinning at my name written in all caps with green Sharpie on top. “You know you don’t have to make me dinner every night.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, shooting me a look. “How else do I know you’re getting enough food in you, huh?” He pointed his rag at me. “Now you go ask him to get you home. Tell him I said he can clock out, and that he’s supposed to text me when he sees you safe inside. You better not say you’re gonna ask him again just to walk yourself home.” The old man shook his head as I headed for the back door, muttering to himself, “Damn girl thinks I’m gonna believe she’s feeding herself good enough when she’s risking her damn ass walking home alone.”

Despite the fact that I’d put off asking for Bucky Barnes’s service, I really did appreciate how fiercely Louis cared about me.

It had been a real long time since anyone had cared so much.

I hesitated at the back door of the diner, my hand resting against the cool metal.

What if he said no?

Granted, he most likely wouldn’t. But what if he said yes, and he secretly thought me some dumb little girl that couldn’t take care of herself?

What did I care if he thought that?

“I don’t care what he thinks of me,” I huffed as I straightened my shoulders, holding my chin a little higher.

“Stop talking to yourself and get going!”

I jumped in surprise, before shooting a glare in the direction of the kitchen. “Stop listening in on my private conversations!” I demanded before storming outside with new found vigor.

Only to freeze when Bucky looked up from where he was sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette.

God, he was handsome.

“You okay, doll face?” He asked, his New York accent a sharp contrast to the southern drawls you were used to.

“Um… Y-Yeah,” I said faintly, glancing back at the door that I’d come in from. “Um… L-Louis wants me to ask you… Can you walk me home? Or give me a ride? I don’t… I don’t know if you drive…”

“I do drive.”

“O-Oh. Okay. Great.”

“But I don’t have my car on me.”

I peered at him curiously. “Oh. Um… I can just walk by myself. I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna be a nuisance…”

He stood up, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. “Don’t be ridiculous, darlin.’ Come on. I’ll walk you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he began to head for the street. “Besides… It’s a real nice night.”

“Oh…,” I said in surprise at how ready he was to be of service. “Okay. But only if you’re sure.”

A faint smile graced his lips as he glanced at the ground, letting out a faint chuckle that rumbled deep in his chest. “I’m sure, darlin.’ But you gotta lead the way.”

I was surprised by the rapid pitter patter of my heart beat as we walked side by side down the street, the chorus of ‘Yellow Brick Road’ getting stuck in my head on a loop.

Bucky was an enigma that I found myself wondering about more often than not, but I always ended up talking myself out of going there. After all, he was an older man. A much older man. At least fifteen years older than my own twenty-two years, or something along those lines, not that he looked it. The man looked like some kind of rugged Greek god. Like Hades if Hades was born in the eighties. His dog tags clinked together under his shirt as we walked, his metal prosthetic glinting in the moon.

“So how did you end up in NOLA?”

It took me a moment to even realize that he was talking to me, my heart skipping a beat and my face going hot in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked.

His bright blue eyes flickered over to look me over. “How’d you end up in New Orleans?”

“I actually don’t know,” I snorted, avoiding his eyes as I kicked at a few broken up pieces of asphalt. “I just… Picked a bus ticket and ended up in one of the Carolinas. Then I picked another bus ticket and ended up in Minnesota. And then I picked another, and another, and another, and then I actually just… ended up here.” The months I’d spent alone on those Greyhounds felt both so long ago and also like it was just yesterday. “The diner was the first place someone recommended for food that’s good but cheap, and as I was eating my mountain of cheese fries, I saw the flyer that said they were hiring. So here I am now…”

“Huh,” he said, his brows furrowed. “I didn’t take you for the type of person to run off on your own… riding buses all over the country…”

Head tilting to the side, I gave him a long look. “You didn’t? What kind of type did you peg me for?”

Bucky gave me a long look, a single brow raised as though silently telling me that I jumped to conclusions. “Just that jumping from place to place can take a lot outta someone,” he said slowly, his voice low and soothing. “Hell, if you were my girl—” He broke off as his cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink, his long hair falling in his face.

I swore my heart had stopped inside of my chest, and I swallowed thickly around the lump in my throat. “Oh?”

He rushed to try to correct his wording. “I-I just mean, a lady should be comfortable. And if I had a g-girl like you, well… You’d never want for anything,” he stammered, stumbling over his words like a flustered school boy. “Hell, I… I’d give you the stars and the moon…”

I was shocked into silence, staring up at him like he was the sun itself. “Bucky…”

“No, no, don’t say anything. I… I know that was a lot,” he insisted quietly, unable to meet your eyes as he stared up at the shitty apartment building you called home. “Hell, you probably don’t want a gross old man hitting on you.” His metal hand, glinting in the low light of the street lamp, reached up to brush against my cheek for just a moment before it quickly dropped. “Just let me walk you home each night so I can make sure you’re safe, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I breathed out, unable to take my eyes off of him as he took a few steps back.

There’s a somewhat playful smirk on his lips as he watched me stumble up the steps, continuously glancing back at him. “Goodnight, baby doll.”

“Goodnight,” I said, barely audible before I finally headed inside.

Bucky kept his word. He walked me home every night, and honestly, there wasn’t a moment that I wasn’t thinking about what he had said, about if I was his girl.

What if I was his girl?

But… with that meant I’d have to give up the life I’d dreamed for myself. I wanted luxury, to never worry about bills or where I was gonna get my next meal or if I could afford to buy the nice work shoes or if I could only get the cheap ones that would fall apart in three months and then I’d just be right back where I started.

I wanted the life that celebrities lived. Hell, I wanted to go to parties on the same yachts the Kardashian-Jenners did, even if I couldn’t fucking stand them.

And with Bucky… I wouldn’t have that.

“So why’d you go on the run anyway?” Bucky asked one night as we sat on the curb, eating ice cream in the Louisiana heat. “I know you told me how you got here, but you’ve never told me why.”

“You’ve never told me how you ended up here or why either,” I shot back, nudging his shoulder with my own.

Somehow the age difference seemed non-existent as we sat there. Honestly, I felt like we were just a bunch of dumb teenagers, shooting the shit and enjoying each other’s company.

Bucky took in a deep breath, his shoulders sinking in a way that made it look like he had all the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I was over in Afghanistan for a long time,” he admitted quietly. “When the war first started, I was 19. I had no idea where my life was going and I had no options except my dad’s mechanic shop. So I enlisted with my best friend, Steve. The one I told you about.”

It’s completely silent except for the sound of an occasional car horn off in the distance.

“Neither one of us knew what we were doing. We realized very quickly that we had no reason being over there, but… but there was nothing else,” he said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. The ice cream he was holding was melting in his trembling hands. “I didn’t know how to do anything else, so I stayed. Steve moved up in the ranks, but I stayed pretty low… I didn’t mind. Kinda liked being the older guy all those young kids could talk to, could rely on… Because they were just like me, getting into a fight that wasn’t theirs because they had nothing else.”

My heart was shattering inside my chest as I scooted a little closer, my knee knocking against his as I tried to give him some sort of silent comfort. He’d been through Hell and made it through.

Bucky let his head rest against mine, his eyes closing as he breathed in the scent of my perfume. “They eventually moved me to some kind of specialized team… Called us the Howling Commandos. I found out that Steve was heading it and he picked me to be part of it. That’s how I met Sam, because he was on some sort of similar team with the Air Force, except it was just him and his friend, Riley,” he continued, taking a bite of his chocolate fudge brownie ice cream. “I am proud to say that I didn’t kill a single person while I was over there. I just couldn’t. Hell, they’re people just like me, terrified and unsure of what’s going to happen.” His lips pressed against my forehead, letting it linger. “But then about five years ago, I was on a mission with the Commandos, Sam, and Riley, and… this bomb went off while we were playing a game of soccer. I wasn’t even in a fight. That thing took my arm and it took Riley.”

Tentatively, I let my fingers find his, holding his hand and squeezing reassuringly.

“Sam decided to come home with me.” There was a forlorn look in his eyes, as though he was right back at that game of pick-up soccer. “After losing Riley… he couldn’t find a reason to be over there. And then Steve decided to stay, and hell, he’s still over there, leading that fucking team…” Glassy baby blue eyes finally found mine, the both of us doing our best to not cry. “I couldn’t face my family for a long time, so Sam asked me to come stay in Louisiana with him and his family, and I haven’t left since.”

“Have you gone to see your family?” I asked slowly, almost like I was scared I’d frighten him if I spoke too loudly, like a wild animal. “Let them know where you are? That you’re safe?”

He turned to look at me, his baby blues shining. “You worried about me, baby doll?”

“I can’t help it,” I said honestly, unable to tear my eyes away. I hadn’t opened up to someone like that in so damn long. “I can’t help but worry about you.”

The way that I felt about Bucky absolutely terrified me, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. It snuck up on me, like a train coming around a bend.

I hated it.

“What do you want out of this life?” Bucky asked on one walk home, his arm linked in mine. He’d become so much more… tactile. If anyone took a moment to look at us, they’d think we were a couple on a romantic stroll.

Perhaps we were.

But I couldn’t help but grin as I looked up at the sky, taking in the warm air. “I wanna live like how the movie stars do… I want a big house on the beach and twenty cars and a yacht and… and…”

He looked at me long and hard. “And you never wanna have to worry about where your next meal is coming from, if you’re gonna have a place to sleep at night…”

For some reason, I’d felt a bolt of panic over whether or not he’d understand. Whether or not he’d think differently of me, but I should’ve known that he wouldn’t. Hell, he knew me better than anyone else.

“You understand,” I said quietly, my hand squeezing his bicep gratefully. “I want to live how the other half lives for once. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

A small smile graced his features as we shuffled along. “There isn’t. But… What about love?” He asked.

“Love?”

“Love.”

Love.

Could I even have love? Did I want it?

“I don’t know if there’s a lot of room for love in my plans,” I admitted after a long moment. “In my experience, love has always just been a lie. A word used to manipulate and eventually abuse.”

Letting out a snort, he let his fingers tickle down my tricep until his fingers intertwined with mine. “I’d show you it’s not… I’d show you what real love is,” he said. “I’d give you every part of me, give you all my strength to help you grow into who you wanna be, even if I don’t particularly care about being famous or rich…” He brought my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “I’ll give you a love story, a life, that’s a million times better than any recycled Hollywood plot… I’ll give you the stars and the moon, if you would just let me.”

I hated the way that he made my heart beat faster, the way my breath hitched. “Jamie,” I breathed out quietly, the two of us having stopped in our tracks to just… take each other in. Live in each other’s presence for a moment. “I…”

“You want a big life… one a lot bigger than little old me,” he said simply, shrugging. His blue eyes were so honest, so loving. So warm. A warmth I hadn’t ever experienced before. “I know. But that doesn’t change that I’m in love with you. And if you ever change your mind…” Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, pressing it into my free hand. “This is where you can find me. I figure it’s time for me to go home.”

We’d come to a stop in front of my building, and I was shocked at how tight my chest felt. My eyes watered as I stared at him long and hard. “Jamie, please… I⏤”

“Don’t say it. It’s okay,” he insisted as he cupped my cheek, letting his thumb run over my skin as though he was memorizing it. “I just want you to be happy, darling. You got that?” His lips pressed to my forehead, letting it linger. “Go get that life you’ve been dreaming of.”

Twenty-Three

I left New Orleans the next day, grabbing a bus ticket after throwing all of my belongings into my old duffel bag. It was time to move on.

But God, did it hurt.

I didn’t stop crying for weeks, fighting the urge to go right back to Louisiana and tell Bucky to take it back, to get him to beg me to stay with him.

But what kind of life would that leave me with? Working in the diner day after day? Never getting anywhere?

But you’d have James, a voice inside my head reminded me snarkily.

Then again, he most likely wasn’t even in New Orleans anymore, if what he said was true when he gave me the business card of his father’s mechanic shop. Was he really planning on going home to New York City?

A few months later, and I’d worked my way all through the southwest to Santa Fe, where I met Pietro.

My heart was pounding as I pressed in the familiar numbers, having memorized them from the business card now soft and faded from how often I held it in my hands like a lifeline. “Come on… Pick up… Pick up…”

“Barnes Tires and Motors, this is George,” a man said in a gruff voice when he finally picked up. “How can I help you?”

“H-Hi, is James there? James Barnes? Bucky?” I stammered out, hands trembling so bad that the old payphone was almost rattling.

There was a pause, and then muffled talking away from the phone.

And then I heard it being picked up. “This is Bucky,” he said.

It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of my lungs. How had I gone so long without hearing his voice?

Breathing in sharply, I tried to figure out the words to say. But my throat was dry and it was like I’d suddenly forgotten the entire English language.

That was all that it took for Bucky to realize it was me. “Baby doll? Baby doll, is that you?” He asked quietly. “I…” He took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “You don’t gotta say a thing, sweetheart… But just know that if you’re in trouble or you need help or… or anything at all, you better call me…” His voice wavered, as though he was fighting tears just like I was. “God, I miss you so much, baby doll. I love you.”

I love you, too.

I hung up before I could actually say the words. “God, I’m so fucking stupid,” I whispered as I leaned back against the wall of the gas station I’d found myself at, rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes.

My dumb ass had decided to wander from the bus station, and I’d walked over a mile away. Unless I was staying in Santa Fe for a bit, I’d need to start making my way back.

“You okay?”

In my distress, I hadn’t even heard the rumbling of the motorcycle or noticed the handsome man making his way to me. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” I said even as I wiped my nose with a pathetic sniffle.

He eyed me for a long moment, his eyes roaming over my figure. “You hungry? I know a great little place nearby. My treat.”

And well, I was never one to turn down free food.

Even if that ‘little place’ ended up being a food truck.

“You know, when you said it was a little place, I didn’t picture it having wheels,” I said teasingly, licking salsa off of my lower lip. “Though, it is the best food I’ve ever gotten from a food truck before.”

“Oh, come on. This is the best food of all time!” He laughed, shaking his head.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” I snorted, finishing off my flautas.

Pietro looked at me long and hard. “So, are you gonna tell me what the hell was going on to have a pretty girl like you all teary eyed?” He asked, his head tilting to the side.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Was this your plan all along?” I asked. Wiping my hands off on a napkin, I did everything I could to avoid his eyes. “Get me all fed and then question me?” But at the same time, the thought of being able to finally talk to someone about it was so appealing… After a long moment of hesitation, I finally gave in. “I fell in love with a man, and he let me go because he knew that I want a life he can’t give me,” I said. “And I was a bitch who didn’t even tell him I love him back when he said it to me.”

Pietro took in a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “Damn. You really are a stone cold bitch, aren’t you?”

“Hey!” I indignantly threw a chunk of tomato at him, glaring. “I just opened up my heart, you dickwad.”

“Dickwad?!” He said, blinking at me in shock. “No one’s ever called me a dickwad before.”

I raised a single eyebrow at him. “Maybe not to your face, but they definitely have.” He gave off the vibe of a fuckboy, of a really, really bad fuckboy.

“Well, since you’re running away from your feelings, how about you spend a week or two with me on the road?” He asked with a grin.

I couldn’t help but blink at him in shock. “What?” I let out a laugh, pulling one of my legs up to my chest. “Do you throw that line out to every girl you meet? Or am I just special?”

Pietro threw a chip at me, and I barely managed to dodge it. “No, I don’t. But… You remind me of me. Needing adventure. A life bigger than four walls and a fence.”

Instinctively, I wanted to snap back that sometimes, four walls and a fence could be an adventure, could be the biggest life there was, as Bucky’s face flashed across my mind.

But I couldn’t do that. Not when I wasn’t ready to face the truth myself.

“Come on, sweet cheeks,” he teased as his foot hooked around mine. “Just think of it. The open highway, a rhythm beneath your feet… Nights full of passion and days of adventure…” Pietro’s voice was deep and husky, as though he was trying to lure me in. “No strings… just warm summer rain soaking us to the bone before we find some cheap motel to huddle down in…”

Plastering on a smile, I stood up and brushed myself on. “Thanks, but… I’d rather be drinking champagne, and the quicker I get to LA, the sooner I will be.”

He let me go with a kiss on the cheek and his cell number pressed into my hand, with a promise to come and pick me up the second I rang.

And despite how sweet he was, how wild and funny and charismatic, there was only one man I wanted to call.

Twenty-Four

I sipped at my martini as I sat at the rooftop bar, absentmindedly watching the television that was mounted on the wall as people droned around me. I’d been in Los Angeles for a year, and I’d spent my time finding the best places to find a husband who could give me the life I dreamed of.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, it took connections to build a career, and the best way to get a foot in the door when nepotism was so rampant was by marrying someone in the industry.

My silk dress was the most expensive thing I owned, something I’d saved up for months for, had skipped meals for. And fuck, was it worth it. I could feel the stares, the lingering gazes on the little bit of thigh that was exposed by the slit in the dress.

I’d already turned away several men, able to tell just from their expensive watches and cheap suits and shoes.

It was amazing how all the up and coming finance bros thought they fit in with the truly big dogs.

“Well, hello, gorgeous.”

I turned to see who was speaking, my heart skipping a beat when I realized who I was speaking to.

The world famous (or infamous) director, Tony Stark.

“Hello, handsome,” I said smoothly, my lashes fluttering innocently as I took a sip of my horrible drink.

I fucking hated martinis. Always had.

But ordering a martini was more sophisticated than ordering a frozen strawberry margarita.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked as he motioned to the empty bar stool right next to me, even as he was already sitting down. “Let me buy your next round.”

“I can’t think of anything better,” I said, feeling as though my dream life was already in reach.

Twenty-Eight

“Tony, where are you taking me?” I laughed as I let my boyfriend lead me to the private dock at our Malibu mansion.

Well, his mansion. I just happened to also live there.

It had been a whirlwind of a year since I had met Tony, and he’d bought me that second round. He’d taken me all over the globe, anywhere my heart desired.

But I made sure to avoid New York City, though he never understood why. I would never tell him.

Not when I was so close to my dream. I could practically taste it.

“Come on, come on. I have a surprise for you,” he said, keeping his hands over my eyes. He was sure to keep me from tripping and busting my ass, thank god.

The ocean waves were so comforting as they hit the shore, a sound I’d gotten used to over the past year.

He finally brought me to a stop, quietly telling me to keep my eyes closed. “Okay,” he said finally. “Open them.”

My eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the bright light of the California sun. But I was more shocked by the sight of Tony on one knee in front of me, holding out a box with a sparkling diamond ring in it. “Tony?”

The ring was the size of a fucking meteor. It was easily the biggest ring I’d ever seen.

“You know, I never thought I’d meet someone like you,” he said quietly, his dark eyes shining. But his voice was steady. “Someone who understands me, who doesn’t expect me to change into someone I’m not. You accept me as I am, and that’s why I want to give you the world.” He couldn’t help but grin as he nodded to the right. “Starting with that yacht you’ve always dreamed of.”

I hadn’t even noticed that there were two yachts at his private docks instead of just the one. The new one had SS Princess emblazoned on the side, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh… Tony…”

“So, what do you say?” He asked, bringing my attention back to him. “Will you be my wife?”

“Yes.”

Thirty-Two

Swallowing nervously, I looked down at the business card in my hand for the millionth time, the stock paper soft from how often I’d looked at it in the past ten years.

Hell, just how often I’d looked at it in the past six should’ve made it fall apart by now. Not that I didn’t have it memorized.

I’d finally ended my marriage after being miserable for so long. I’d gotten my yacht, my fancy houses, my career, all the jewelry that I could dream of, and none of it made me happy. Tony and I… never grew. And I never dreamed. Every day was the same, and every day was torture as I realized that I didn’t have the one thing that actually mattered.

The garage in front of me was busy, music blasting and the sound of men shouting to each other as they worked.

Suddenly I felt absolutely ridiculous wearing a Chanel dress and Gucci heels, an Hermés bag on my arm.

BARNES TIRES AND MOTORS was lit up along the top of the shop in bright red letters, though the lights in the ‘r’ of ‘motors’ were out.

I felt like a fool. I had wanted the life I had so desperately that I gave up everything for it. I got the movie star life, my name on billboards and my face on magazines.

But it wasn’t ever enough.

My heels clicked against the blacktop as I slowly made my way towards the front area of the shop, bells clinging above my head to let them know someone was there.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” A man asked as he came around the corner.

He looked so much like Bucky, it punched the air straight from my lungs.

“H-Hi. I’m looking for James Barnes. Is he here?” I asked after a long moment of hesitation. There was no way that the man was Bucky, but I didn’t doubt he was related.

The man raised his brows, wiping his hands on a rag. “My son’s in the shop. I’ll take you to him.” His full head of hair was white, his thick facial hair matching. Even with all the wrinkles on his face, he was a handsome man. Holding open the door for me, he led me into the loud shop, some eighties rock song blasting over the speakers.

I couldn’t help but smile as ‘Rock You Like a Hurricane’ by Scorpions came on. It was one of Bucky’s favorites back when we worked in the diner together.

“BUCK! YOU GOT A VISITOR!” The man shouted, causing several people to look our way.

My cheeks felt hot as I avoided their gaze, hoping they wouldn’t recognize me. I didn’t want to be a famous movie star anymore, a celebrity that had to beg for scraps of privacy.

My mind went numb, my heart stopping inside my chest as he stepped around a gray Ford Escape another man was working on.

He was even more handsome than he was the last time I saw him.

“Can I help y—” He broke off, his blue eyes going wide when he realized that it was me. “Hi.”

All of a sudden, everything I’d planned to say flew out of my head. All of the eloquent words I’d strung together were gone. And I just proceeded to word vomit.

“Did you know that, uh, when you marry someone you’re not in love with, you won’t… you won’t grow into it?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Um… I married a man who could give me a life I thought I always wanted, and he just… sucked.” Eyes stinging, I fought back against tears. “And I thought that all I ever wanted was the life I have now, was the life movie stars and the Kardashians lived. But… But I hate it. I hated every second I was away from you.” I let out a weak laugh, unable to stop the tears. “I wanted to turn around the second I got on the bus in New Orleans, but my stupid stubborn ass didn’t. I should have. I should’ve gotten off and just run right back to you because I… I love you, James. I always have.”

The garage had gone almost deadly quiet, and my heart sank when I realized Bucky looked almost frozen in shock.

“I know that I shouldn’t have showed up like this,” I scrambled to say. “But I… I’ve been trying to get my divorce finalized for two years and I finally did, and I kept telling myself that once it was done, I’d never hold myself back from what I really want ever again. From who I want. If… If you want me.” My face felt like it was on fire, my hands shaking. I shook my head as I took a step backwards. “What am I thinking? There’s no way you’re not married. I… I’m so so—”

Before I could finish the word ‘sorry,’ Bucky had closed the distance between us, his hands cradling my face so gently. He held me like I was made of fine crystal as he kissed me. He kissed me like his life depended on it, like I was the one source of oxygen.

And I kissed him back just as fiercely. “I love you. I love you so much,” I breathed out in between kisses, unwilling to let him go as my Hermés bag fell into the dust and oil on the concrete below.

Bucky smiled into the kiss, his arm wrapping around my waist to keep me pressed to his chest. “I love you so much, darlin.’ God, I’ve missed you…” His nose nudged against mine as we finally broke for air, both of us breathing heavily.

My knees felt like Jell-O as I held onto him. His grip was the only reason I hadn’t fallen to the ground already.

“I’m sorry I was a dumb twenty-two year old,” I said, snorting as he stole another kiss.

“No… Don’t be sorry,” he insisted, his fingers massaging my scalp as our foreheads pressed together. It was like he was scared to stop touching me, like I would disappear at any second. “You were young… You had to go out and make your own mistakes… I’ve just been waiting for the day you were ready.”

All the years apart melted away and all that remained was the two of us, two souls so intertwined that there was no way to truly separate us.

Our lips were half molded together as I said, “I’m never leaving you again. I promise I swear on everything…”

My heart almost stopped inside my chest as I heard someone clearing their throat, looking to see Bucky’s father staring at us with his arms crossed over his chest. “M-Mr. Barnes, sir…”

He gave a crooked smile that was so reminiscent of Bucky that I couldn’t help but grin back. “The Mrs. will wanna know if you’re staying for dinner.”

“Yeah,” I said as I looked up at Bucky, toying with a strand of his hair. “That sounds perfect.”

Later that night, Bucky and I laid in his bed, a mess of bare limbs as his fingers ran up and down my back soothingly. “What do you want from this life, baby girl?” He asked absentmindedly.

Humming, I traced shapes on his bare chest, sometimes pressing a kiss to where his prosthetic met his shoulder, on the tender scar tissue. “You.”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, despite the already mischievous look on his face. “Really? Not even the stars and the moon?” He asked teasingly.

I knew he’d give it to me anyway, give me all that he could. But I was sure now that the only thing I wanted from this life was his love. “Not even the stars and the moon.”

[cinnamonest]

Since people actually liked it here's the continuation of the modern Xiao camgirl!darling post I cut from the original, as promised, most if it's under a cut. Here’s the original post. I didn’t think people would actually like the camgirl concept so I thought I was rambling too much and cut this part out lol but here it is now!

Tws: derogatory language/female slurs, mentions of reader being a cheater, reader is promiscuous, murder, incel-y mentality (our modern boy would be a 4chan user, look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong) and mentions of upsetting realistic things, this one's darker than the first part. If you're bothered by other modern stuff for being too realistic best avoid this too probably, involuntary pornography ---------- Coming up on one year since you gained your most loyal subscriber, you get a rather... Unsettling request. He has something he would like this month, in fact, he adds a few hundred to the regular amount (he's been saving up just for this) and asks for just the answer to one simple question. What's your name?

Your real name, he clarifies. He doesn't need a last name, nothing like that. It would just... Make him feel closer to you. He avoids using the term "anniversary," even though that's what comes to mind. He also doesn't tell you that he already knows, that this is just a test of your honesty. For someone who's so cautious, you would think you would think to give a fake name whenever you go to coffee shops for them to yell out, or change it on the packages you get. You hesitate. And it would be easy to give him a fake one, yet, you don't really think about it too much, you kinda think about that as an afterthought, what you should have done, but your very real name is typed out and sent before you really process it, and you feel a sort of unease, but it's already sent. No big deal. He can't do much with just your first name, right? If your name is common, you feel pretty safe, but even if it's a rarer one, surely there are other people with it, right? He's happy though. Kinda surprised, really, that you didn't lie to him. Maybe you trust him?

You're not stupid, you know something is wrong, you're becoming paranoid. And you connect the weird feeling to him, bc he goes radio silence for several days leading up to finally taking you. This dude who used to respond to any messages you sent within 10 seconds suddenly... It's like he disappeared? He hasn't responded to anything you send him ever since you said your name. You send him messages saying you haven't heard from him in a while and you're worried... The way you word it makes it sound like you're worried about him, but you both know that's not what you really mean. You're hesitant and suspicious of every guy you meet. You buy pepper spray and start carrying some around, you nearly spray a poor guy who you thought was trailing you, turns out he just lives in your building. He makes note of it. He watched you buy it, and is quick to realize you always hold it in the same hand. That must be your dominant hand, that's an important mental note for the future, since you're more likely to try to attack him with that hand. He'll remember. He has a note in his phone with information like that. Height, weight, birthday, social security number, parents' names, school she graduated from. All in little bullet points. He adds dominant hand to the list. He's not worried at all really. Already watched you struggle to carry packages he could lift with one hand, your strength doesn't cross his mind as a threat. At first he just doesn't know what to say, and that's why he stops responding, he feels too awkward but... He starts to enjoy the weird feeling of power the whole situation is giving him. You're worried, you're constantly paranoid, and it's because of him. Now you finally understand the same feeling you inflict on him, how you consume his thoughts every waking moment of every day. It used to irritate him that you held so much power over him, while he meant nothing to you. Now, the tables have turned. You're forced to have him constantly in your mind, whether you like it or not, just like you are in his. It's giving you what you deserve. It gives him a feeling of significance. He matters, even if it's not in a good way. And he keeps telling himself that once he's all you have, he'll matter even more. He's smart enough to realize that if you're paranoid, you might have mentioned him by username to someone else, so to ensure he knows what to do from this point, he has to sneak into your apartment at night as you sleep. It's so unbearably tempting, you have no idea -- you're right there and so vulnerable. He has to hold himself back because he knows that if he so much as touched you, he couldn't hold back. But it's torture, standing there so close, watching your chest rise and fall as he fiddles with the phone. Even when he unlocks it with your thumb, he tries to hold the phone from an angle to do so, even if the skin of his hand grazes yours, it would be too much. You have a lot of contacts across your messages and a bunch of different apps. You have one guy in your online chat you've exchanged far more messages with than anyone else! Hundreds upon hundreds of messages, and huge paypal cash drops, who the hell is -- oh, wait, that's him. Nevermind. But, to his pleasant surprise, he's the only one of your... customers that you regularly talk to, the rest just have a few paypal notifications or clarifications on your policies, but no actual conversations like you have with him. Of course, that's literally part of your deal, he's literally paying for it, but it makes him happy nonetheless. But as he goes through your personal messages, he finds that you are... in no shortage of options. Like, holy shit. It was kind of expected. You *are* really pretty, that's how you have so many followers after all, but this is a lot. So many contacts named some variation of "DO NOT ANSWER!!!" or "creepy guy that forced me to give him my number at the club", etc etc. Plenty of unsaved numbers texting you to never get a response. You've ghosted enough dudes to make your place haunted. It's... kinda awful, really. It also kinda hurts his heart a bit more than he expected. You have so, so, so many options, even without the cam thing, he's more insignificant than he even realized. ...Well, for now, at least. He'll be significant to you soon enough. And then you seem to have a sort of "boyfriend of the month" deal going on, aside from that. Plenty of male-name contacts whose last exchange is a "don't talk to me again!" message from you, plenty of messages corresponding to the same time as those to your girl friends about how you can't find a good guy and every relationship ends badly. How unfortunate. See, it's because you choose bad guys. You probably go for dicks and not.... well, he can't exactly pull the "nice guys like me" mentality, he doesn't delude himself into thinking he is one. He's lucid enough to realize that most nice guys would not be sneaking into your house and standing over your sleeping body to stalk your phone as they make plans to kidnap you. He knows he would probably fall under the classification of a creepy guy. He's just too far gone to care. Still, he would be so much better to you, he tells himself, not a cheater or a player like you complain about. To say he resents those kinds of guys -- ones that can do the unthinkable and actually talk to girls, let alone successfully, only to be assholes, and yet girls like you still go for them -- is an understatement. You're basically just a slut, you probably ignore all the guys that would be nice to you, just like all those internet forums he reads talk about. Typical.

Well, those forums also make fun of guys like him who pay for girls like you, but he can't blame them. It *is* kinda pathetic. There is one dude you talk to, though, now. Current boyfriend of the month, from the looks of it. You have a little heart emoji next to the name. He knows it's kinda pathetic that something so simple and insignificant sets him off, but it does, makes him pout and grind his teeth and curl his other hand into a fist. It's so unfair. Some dude you barely know gets to fuck you, and you haven't even known him nearly as long as you've known him! He doubts this dude -- hell, any of your boyfriends -- has put in the same amount of money that he has into you. They fuck you practically for free. And that, unfortunately for you, only solidifies his decision. If you're fucking some dude for a month because they buy you dinner every now and then, if we're going by that scale, then you owe him quite a good deal of pussy. Any hesitancy or guilt he had about the whole thing is gone. And he's a little mad. Keeps grumbling to himself that you're just a loose whore, fucking so many people and putting yourself out there on the internet. He wonders if they even know about what you do. Probably not, you probably don't tell them. Yeah, that sounds like what you'd do. Really, you're kinda lucky that someone like him is so willing to commit to you, since you are a slut. You don't deserve it, but he loves you anyway. And you'll probably have the nerve to be ungrateful for it too. Sigh. On the bright side, by some miracle, it would appear that you have not told any real-life people about him, you haven't sent out any hey if I disappear you should probably look into this creep type of messages. But he can't afford to have you doing so in between now and when you move in with him, so, he decides he has to act within the next 24 hours. While he's here, though, he decides to do a quick sweep of your place. Makes note of what snacks and drinks you like, what brand of toothpaste and shampoo and the like you use, so he can buy some for you. Maybe you'll adjust better if you have some of your favorite things. And then, after days of silence, he sends you a message, says it's fine, his internet went out for a few days. He means it to reassure you, but somehow it makes you feel more uneasy. He has everything planned out, or so he thinks. But you deviate from your usual schedule. When you leave work or class, you don't go home, you go somewhere else, first. How strange. Maybe picking up groceries? He follows from a distance. No, looks like you're going out to eat...? Maybe you're meeting friends or family or -- no that's a guy. Fuck. You must have planned this just earlier today, since there were no messages on your phone. It makes a bitter feeling rise in his gut. He hates that he can't get close enough to listen to your conversation. Well, he hates the whole thing, sits there and seethes the whole time. Watches you through the windows in the parking lot, thankfully you chose to sit outside. Feels his eye twitch and his hand clench every time you smile and laugh. It takes way too long. The fact that you split the bill feels like a punch to the stomach too. Shouldn't you be used to taking guys' money? Oh, and what's this...? This guy isn't the picture on boyfriend-of-the-month's contact. Well, well, well. You really are a whore. See, it's a very good thing he's taking you off the market. You're probably a reckless heartbreaker too. He's doing all the other men of the world a favor by taking on such a burden as you. And it makes him feel far more justified in keeping you locked away, since he has every reason to believe, now, that you'd run off and fuck someone else if given the chance. Halfway through, the guy briefly gets up and runs to the bathroom or something. While he's gone, he sees your face fall a bit. And then he sees you look around. You turn your head from one side to the other. Your eyes scan the area. You shuffle uncomfortably and you bite your lip and your eyebrows furrow. You're scared. You feel like -- no, you know you're being watched and it scares you. That makes him a little happy, for some reason. He wouldn't be sure what to do if you went home with the guy, but thankfully you don't. No big deal, this was just a bump in the road, he still beats you back to your building and he still goes through with the original plan. Even better, now that it's even darker outside. If anything, now he's got extra aggression and testosterone in his blood, running over the events in his head and going through some... very forceful and violent fantasies. The message he sent had you uneasy, and it's also how you immediately know what's going on when it does finally happen. You keep telling yourself you're being unnecessarily paranoid, that it's nothing, maybe that guy actually got his life together or got a girlfriend or something. Things like... What you fear, don't happen in real life, that's stuff that only happens in movies and stuff. You keep calling it that or it in your head. That won't happen to you. It's not going to happen. The series of events that play out in your head, scenarios you try to push out of your mind. Sure, in the movies it always takes place in the stairwell, but that's fiction, so you go up the apartment stairwell as always. You're not gonna let a bunch of B-grade old films scare you. And it's always some dude standing and waiting, but that nice young boy that you've never seen before is just leaning against the wall, scrolling on his phone, he only glances up for a second as you pass by, he's not a threat, you're being paranoid. You flash a smile and a little wave as you walk by, he doesn't return either, just looks back down at his phone. See? This guy doesn't even care, you're being paranoid for nothing, you tell yourself. But as you make the turn to go up the next set of stairs you hear the click of a phone being put on the lockscreen, a few metallic footsteps ringing out in the open hall and echoing, coming up right behind you, but for that split second you expect a tap on the shoulder, maybe he has a question, it's not like movies, it's not like movies, you're not gonna get a cloth shoved over your face and--- Well, it's not exactly like the movies. You were prepared, but it all happens in one motion - one hand grabs the hand with the spray and twists it, making you drop it, the other wraps some material over your mouth. You were prepared enough that you don't gasp in surprise, you hold your breath and thrash, but it doesn't make any difference, you wiggle and writhe for a few moments but can't even begin to break free, eventually succumb to the lack of oxygen and take a deep breath. It takes a few seconds to settle in, it's not so immediate. You instinctively panic and thrash again, but he has a complete iron grip. The dizziness takes a second to set in. He huffs a bit in frustration and says stop moving, it's fine. It's definitely not, but it occurs to you that that's not something a kidnapper looking for any potential vulnerable girl says. It's a poor attempt at comfort. It's someone specifically looking for you. And if that wasn't enough, he says your name. Your very real name. Maybe it was a mistake to tell him after all. But the worst part of it all is that there's not a single doubt in your mind, even in your panic you have the realization, it's definitely him and this is literally exactly what you were afraid of. And it's the last thing that goes through your head. And once he's got you out cold he just takes a sigh of relief. He may have been very neutral faced to you, but in reality he was incredibly nervous. He hasn't exactly made or used chloroform before, our boy is operating on YouTube tutorials here. He's got adrenaline pumping through his veins and carries you with his arms trembling. He's on autopilot carrying you out, but his mind is also consumed by holy fuck I'm touching her she smells so nice she's so warm her face is so close I'm actually touching her-- you get the idea. He feels bad about taping your hands and feet together and putting you in the trunk of his car, kinda. It feels too much like what a really bad person would do to a girl they didn't care about, like he's a trafficker or a murderer or a criminal or something, but that's not true at all. Sure, he's still mad at you for being a whore and all that, but it feels improper, he just has no choice. It's late at night, but he can't risk getting pulled or being at a stoplight and someone seeing an unconscious girl in his backseat, so, trunk it is. But once he's home, to his tiny little downtown apartment (he'll probably be able to move into a better place soon, since he's not paying you tons of money anymore), he takes a quick check to make sure the coast is clear, and drags you out, up the stairs, all the way into his apartment, sets you down on the bed, where you'll be staying. He even washed the sheets and cleaned the place up a bit for your arrival. You probably would not like to see what this place looked like before the five trash bags worth of cleaning was done. He'll probably be more motivated in the future, though, since now he won't be so depressed all the time. And then the adrenaline of the fear of being seen is over, and that's when it sets in that this is real. It's very, very hard to hold back. You're real, in the flesh, he can reach out and touch you with his hands! It feels like a dream. And he realizes he can take this opportunity to do things he would be far, far too embarrassed to do when you're awake. He takes a few minutes to do just that, cautiously reaches out to poke your face, and then run a hand down your neck, your skin is so soft! Your hair smells so nice, he lays down beside you and runs his fingers over it. Puts hands on your body and just lays there in awe of the fact that you're real. He's pretty certain he's never actually touched a human female before now. Everything about you feels soft. Weirdly feminine, which is something very foreign and confusing to him. And he kinda uh... Loses it. Goes buckwild with just taking in every aspect of you. Again, since you're unconscious he can be gross and entirely shameless about it. Peels your clothes off and runs his hands and mouth over every inch of flesh, takes the tape off your lips and presses his tongue into your limp mouth until he's forced to let go to breathe, fingers you and tonguefucks you and sucks on your nipples and your neck. Lays pressed against you and just breathes in your scent. It takes every ounce of self control he has not to fuck you already. But he does jerk off a few times. That way he'll last longer, so it's a win-win. And then... you twitch. Tape goes back over your mouth. And then, you twitch again. And this time, you make a little "mm!" under the tape, you start trembling and he sees you try to pull your hands apart. You whimper. It sounds scared and distressed. He feels kinda bad, but it also makes him hard, and that outweighs any guilt by far. Besides, it's what you deserve after what you did earlier. You tortured him mentally, it's only fair. On the good side of things, you suppose, you don't have to worry about the usual fears one would have over such a situation - you're fairly certain he's not going to kill you, nor sell you. In fact, the bed you wake up on is pretty soft. You're naked and the tape is uncomfortable, but... At least he was considerate enough to give you a blanket. He does care about you, after all. First thing he says is asking if you're awake. Can you hear me? You hesitate a moment, and then you nod. He's a bit new to this whole abduction thing. He wants to make sure he didn't pull a muscle or something with the tape. So... Do you hurt anywhere? Does your head hurt? Oh, right, the tape. He's not stupid either. You have to promise you're not going to scream. In fact, he's angry enough about earlier that he gets a bit meaner than he originally told himself he'd be. If you scream, I'll make you regret it. Understand? You nod, so he takes it off, holding it close in preparation in case you were lying, but you don't actually answer him, you're silent again for a minute, then just ask a question of your own. You're that guy, right? He's silent for a few seconds, there's no need for any clarification. Finally just says yeah. You just breathe again. Silently. Finally you summon the courage to ask him what he wants with you. And why are you doing this to me? And his answer is fairly simple. What do you think? You don't say anything for a minute, and neither does he. He's not good with words, and you don't really have ones for this situation. It occurs to you that offering to pay him to let you go is probably not the solution. After all, this is the guy that's dumped unimaginable amounts of money onto you, you couldn't even come close to paying him back. You figure maybe, after he gets what he wants... well, you get the courage to ask.  Is there anything... that I can do o-or... anything that will make you... are you gonna let me go, after you....? And the answer is, again, simple, but the one you did not want to hear. No. He's a blunt boy, so he doesn't beat around the bush, but he doesn't torment you by keeping anything from you. In fact, he's already rehearsed this speech a few hundred times in his head. He just wanted to make sure he's very clear so there's no misunderstanding, and while he likes some discomfort in a vengeful sort of way, he doesn't want you to be too freaked out to where you have a panic attack. He says he's just going to... keep you here. He has the things you'll need. He got your purse with your keys, so he'll even run to your apartment after this to go get some of your stuff. You don't need to tell him which number, he adds, he already knows which apartment you're in. He needs you here, he says. And he makes sure to add that it's your fault. If you were never out there selling yourself in the first place, this never would have happened. If you're good, he can make things a bit better for you. But you need to go ahead and accept that you're going to be staying and that no amount of begging or offers is going to convince him to let you go. He can be nice to you, he promises. A better boyfriend than the others. You just have to be a good girlfriend -- you know, obedient and sweet and do what he says. Just like you always were when you talked to him. Just keep being sweet like that and doing the things he tells you to do. You would argue that the terms boyfriend and girlfriend are not appropriate descriptors of the sort of relationship he's creating, but you keep that thought to yourself. Instead, you ask, How long are you going to keep me here? Which is a dumb question, since he's pretty sure he already made that clear. Forever. -----

There's a double homicide in the area. Takes place on the same night, and the same diameter of knife is used, so police believe maybe the two incidents are connected. Especially because they do have something in common, one girl. She was romantically involved with both of them. The girl in question's apartment has been vacated, very suddenly, and the girl has disappeared without a trace, taking things with her from the looks of it, so police believe she may be responsible, but other than that, they have no leads. A few weeks later, a video circulates all over the internet. Some famous camgirl finally started making porn, apparently. Just one video, but the description (which was totally written by her, it has to be since it's written in first person right?) says something about how she decided to quit camming, so this video marks the end of her career. She got into a relationship, so she says in the description, so she has to quit. It's roleplay porn, apparently, she's doing a good job at the acting. All tied up and gagged and getting fucked by some big-dicked guy holding the camera. He's silent, but she's making a ton of noise, cums several times. Really good acting, the fear and desperation in her eyes looks so real. Talk about going out with a bang. It gets a lot of likes. Tons of comments about how sad people are she's quitting. And of course, a lot of comments say, what a lucky guy.

[mischiefandspirits]

Bernard Figures It Out

Was reading through all the comments on @frostbittenbucky's post and all I could think of was that it was Bernard talking to Tim. Then I got to thinking...

"I've connected the two dots."

"You didn't connect shit."

"I've connected them."

Bernard figures out Tim's a superhero... sort of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim fidgetted nervously as he waited on the front porch of his boyfriend’s house. Bernard had sounded so serious when he’d called during Tim’s lunch to ask him to come over after work so they could talk about something.

Which Tim had done, after spending an entire board meeting just going over the past week trying to figure out what he’d done.

The only thing he could think of was that he’d ducked out halfway through their lunch date on Wednesday to give Duke some backup, but Bernard had seemed understanding when Tim explained there was an emergency at GRC Labs. It couldn’t have been a tipping point, either, since Tim had managed to only flake on three other dates over the past few months they’d been dating. Kate had been happy to cover for him as often as she could “out of queer solidarity” when she found out Tim was dating a boy for the first time and Tim had managed to trick Bruce into covering a few actual Wayne Enterprises emergencies for him when they came up.

There had to be a reason Bernard was breaking up with him, though. Had he missed something? He definitely wasn’t forgetting an important day. He was good with days and Tam was even better, so she would have reminded him on the off chance that he had forgotten.

What was he missing?

Bernard was smiling when he opened the door, but there was a nervous energy to it that had Tim’s stomach sinking. “Hey, Tim.”

“Hey.” Tim gave his own nervous smile then slipped inside.

They went into the living room and sat down on the couch.

Tim frowned when Bernard grabbed a manila folder off the coffee table. Crud, had he screwed up enough that Bernard had had to make a list? He knew he was new to dating a guy, but he hadn’t thought he’d done that bad. He’d really been trying, especially with how his and Stephanie’s relationship had fallen apart at the end. “What -”

“Just let me speak, Tim,” Bernard said, waiting for Tim’s nod. “Okay, so you know Clark Kent, right?”

Tim blinked as Bernard opened the folder to show a picture of Clark. It looked like one of the employee pictures from the Planet’s website, with his dorky “I’m just a humble country boy” smile and the golden globe from their roof photoshopped in as the background. “Uh, yeah? I think so. He works for the Daily Planet, right? I think he’s worked at a few of Bruce’s events. Not a lot of outside reporters are willing to come to Gotham.”

“Exactly!” Bernard said, snapping his fingers and pointing at Tim.

“What?”

He pulled out the picture to show the next page was an article titled, “DAILY PLANET REPORTER… BATMAN!?”

A wave of relief washed over Tim and he placed his face in his hands. “Were you up all night on the hero conspiracy boards again?”

“No. I mean, I found this on a board and was up all night thinking about it, but I found it reasonably early.”

“One in the morning isn’t reasonable, Bernard.”

“Says the guy who’s always wide awake when I call to infodump.”

“Touché.” Tim leaned against Bernard and gave him a smile. “So tell me, why is some reporter from Metropolis from all places Batman.”

“First of all, living in Metropolis is the perfect cover. Everyone assumes Batman would live in Gotham, no one would consider he could be from anywhere else. Metropolis is outside the GMA, but close enough that the commute is still possible.”

“But it’s Metropolis.”

“And who would think Gotham’s Dark Knight lives in the sunshine capital? Plus, I hear he disappears a lot on the job. There’s gotta be a reason for it!”

Tim made a note to let Clark know he needs to cut back on the disappearing act some since people are catching on.

“And have you seen the guy? He is swol AF, babe.”

“Please don’t call me babe while you’re talking about how hot another guy is.” Especially Tim’s honorary uncle.

“You know I prefer twinks.”

“BERNARD!”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, ignoring Tim’s shout. “The guy is definitely hiding something! Besides, Kent is an investigative reporter. He’s gotta know a lot about cases and the underground and detective work.”

Not as much as he likes people to think, but more than he likes people to know Superman does, Tim mused. “But what about the other vigilantes?”

“Well, Kent has a cousin…” Bernard flipped through a folder and pulled out a picture of Kara. It looked like a screenshot of her interviewing Lena for CatCo. “She’s obviously the latest Batgirl. Look at her hair. And the first Batgirl and the current Batwoman were obviously Lois Lane, the red hair is just a wig. Did you see how she kicked butt at that last event she went to? She’s not as subtle as Kent. That means their son is the latest Robin. He’s exactly the right size.”

Oh, Damian better not hear about this, Tim cackled internally. His youngest brother hated being reminded that Jon was the same height as him despite their two years age difference. Damian definitely took after Talia when it came to body type, no matter what he said.

“And Kent also has a brother.” This time he pulled out a picture of Kon. The clone must have been caught by a reporter out shopping with Ma since he was carrying some paper bags and glaring at whoever was behind the camera. “At least, he’s supposedly Kent’s brother, but he was a teenager when he first showed up with the Kents. A lot of people think he’s actually Kent’s son, that Kent got a girl pregnant when they were teenagers and something happened to the mom so Kent had to take him in. Now the Kents are trying to hide it by saying the two are brothers.”

That was… scarily accurate actually. Especially given Luthor and Clark were close friends at the time that Kon would have theoretically been born.

“And that beef would explain why the younger Kent brother went all crime lord on Gotham for a while before reconnecting with the family.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, Kent Jr.’s got the perfect build for Red Hood.”

Tim bit back a comment on how Kon was shorter than Jason by a good foot. Timothy Drake-Wayne should not know that. Add Jason to the list of people who can’t hear this theory.

“And then there’s this girl,” Bernard picked up a picture of Lois, Jon, and Natasha Irons walking down the street together. “No one’s sure exactly who she is, but she’s been spotted with the Kents a few times. I think the cover story is that she’s Jon’s babysitter.”

“And the actual story?”

“She’s Black Bat, obviously. That’s why she wears a mask that fully covers her face. She doesn’t want to stand out as the only African American Bat.”

“Isn’t Signal also Black?”

“Yeah, but he works in the daytime so he’s already a standout.”

“And who is Signal in this? And what about Nightwing and Red Robin?”

“Well, Nightwing’s just a Blüd who came to Gotham. He doesn’t count.”

Ouch. Sorry, Dick.

“And Red Robin is obviously an older Robin, the one who was Robin when we were kids. Kent wanted to keep him on, and I don’t blame him. As for Signal, he’s got the same backstory as all the other Robins Kent picked up, he just went the Signal route because he didn’t fit the usual Robin mold.”

“Because the female Robin fit the mold,” Tim snorted. Robin Mold, as if he and his brothers were even the same ethnicity. Or even had the same hair color. Jason dyes his hair, Dick’s is brown-black, Tim’s is pure black, and Damian’s is more a dark brown and it’s only getting lighter as he gets older.

“She didn’t, that’s the point. Kent tried to give breaking the Robin mold a chance by letting his cousin have a go at it, but he realized it just didn’t work so she went back to being Spoiler and he got a new Robin.”

Not touching that with a ten-foot pole. “Right, and where does he get the usual Robins? Please tell me you’re not back on the secret government orphanages theory.”

“No, no, no. Kent travels sometimes for his job, right? And a lot of the time he’s going to places that have been hit by disasters or major crimes. So he’ll take in some of the displaced children to train as his robins.”

Tim pressed his face back into his hands.

“You see it, right?”

Honestly, Tim was just wondering how his boyfriend could be so close, and yet so far off. “How would Kent even afford taking care of a bunch of secret -- possibly illegally acquired -- children without anyone noticing?”

“Simple. Bruce Wayne is funding him.”

“Bernard, I love you, but what the heck?” Tim blushed and looked up as he realized what he’d said, but Bernard didn’t seem to notice as he steamrolled ahead.

“It’d also explain how he can afford all the gear and how he’d be able to travel to Gotham or anywhere else Batman goes without anyone noticing. He probably has a secret Batplane or something.”

“Why would Bruce do that?”

“Because Wayne cares about Gotham, everyone knows that, and this way he can make sure someone’s taking care of the city without anyone putting two and two together.”

“And two plus two is?”

Bernard gave him a hard look. “I’m not stupid, Tim. Bruce Wayne is obviously Superman. His face is right there.”

Oh, the others are going to love this! Too bad I can’t tell Damian or Jason. Jason especially would have loved this. “Right. Bruce is Superman.”

“He is. Superman is known for being nice and Bruce Wayne’s basically all that’s keeping the city running at this point. That’s nice as hell.”

Oh my god.

“And Wayne does charity for the victims of cataclysms, doesn't he? I bet he first saves people from them as Superman and then builds them new homes for free.”

Oh my god! Why am I not recording this!?

“And the Wayne’s were rich enough to hide the fact they adopted an alien baby.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “If you’re about to tell me this is why Bruce’s parents got killed, you might want to stop while you’re ahead.”

“It’d make sense. There’re all sorts of unanswered questions about their deaths,” Bernard muttered under his breath, flipping through the folder. He pulled out another picture of Kara. This time she was in full Supergirl attire with a bus held overhead. “So if Wayne is Superman, then that’d mean your ex-girlfriend could be Supergirl. They look a lot alike and it’d explain how she got involved with you all.”

“Bernard, she has a human dad. You know, Cluemaster. The supervillain.”

“Yeah, her dad. But we don’t know anything about her mom!”

“Let me guess…”

Bernard pulled out a picture of Karen. She and Helena were suited up and talking to a group of cops, two goons held over each of Karen’s shoulders. “Her mom could be Power Girl! Some makeup and a wig and she could look just like Crystal Brown! And Damian Wayne is obviously the new Superboy! That’s why his background is such a mystery, right? He had to stay a secret until he could control his alien superpowers. That’s why he’s always so mean. It’s a cover since everyone knows Superboy is super sweet!”

Sure, when he’s not helping Damian pull pranks or using his adorable powers to put the blame on Kon and I. “No, Bernard. Damian and Steph are just very human hellspawn. And Bruce and Crystal are human too. I can’t believe you called me over here just to tell me you think Superman is both Batman’s sugar daddy and my adoptive dad.”

“Well, that’s not exactly why I called you over,” Bernard admitted, the nervous energy coming back. He grabbed Tim’s hands. “Tim -”

Tim’s stomach sank. “You are breaking up with me!”

“What? No! I don’t want to break up!”

“Why are you acting all nervous and serious then!?” Tim asked, pulling his hands away to throw them up in the air.

Bernard shook the folder. “Because I’m trying to tell you I figured out you’re Superboy!”

Tim’s brain blue-screened and his hands slowly dropped. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I know you’re Superboy. The older one, obviously. By the way, you and Damian really need to figure out separate names.”

Forget Jason and Damian, Kon can never find out about this. He’d never let me live it down. “Bernard, you called me a twink five minutes ago. Su-” Shoot, I can not risk getting Kon’s attention! “The older one might not be as big as Superman, but he’s not a twink.”

“Well, yeah, that’s the shapeshifting at work.”

“The what?”

“Obviously you Kryptonians can shapeshift. Why else would you look so much like humans?”

… Why do Kryptonians look so much like humans? Was there some - Wait, no! Break into the Fortress of Solitude for research later! Reassure your boyfriend that you’re not an alien now! “Bernard -”

“And that explains why your step-mom was so hot.”

“Gross.”

“She and your dad were actors hired by Luthor so you could have a normal life! But now Bruce has custody so he adopted you.”

“No.”

“That’s why you and your dad were so weird with each other when I met him.”

“We were weird because he’d just gotten out of a coma not long before to find that his wife was dead so he decided to actually be a dad for once in his life, but overcompensated and became a helicopter parent to a kid who was mostly on his own for his entire life!” Tim blurted out. “I am not an alien, Bernard!”

“Well, not technically since you were cloned from Superman on Earth.”

“Oh my god! You were just talking about Steph being Supergirl! Why would I date my dad’s cousin?”

Bernard blinked. “Supergirl and Superman are cousins?”

Right, Timothy Drake-Wayne wasn’t supposed to know that. “I thought they’d said something like that before, yeah. Are people seriously saying I’m Superboy on the internet?”

“NO! No, I swear I would have led with that if I thought your identity was compromised. A few people have mentioned Wayne and Damian, but not you or Steph or Jason.”

“Wh-Jason!? You think Jason was an alien too!”

“No, not exactly, but a few times when I’ve visited I swear I’ve seen a guy in the manor who looks like Jason. It’s just been out of the corner of my eye and he’s gone whenever I look so I’ve always thought it was just Dick or Bruce or some picture of Jason that my mind was playing tricks with, but it makes sense now that I know Wayne is Superman. He must have been able to heal Jason with alien tech, but couldn’t say anything because that would give away that he’s Superman.”

Damn it Jason! And damn it Bernard! I’m dating the smartest moron in the world! “Bruce did not bring Jason back with alien technology and none of us are aliens!”

“It’s okay, Tim. I won’t tell anyone.”

Tim grabbed Bernard by the jacket and pulled him into a kiss. When he started to feel lightheaded, he pulled back, “Could someone whose skin is as solid as stone kiss like that?”

Bernard blinked dazedly at him for a moment. “How do you know what Superboy’s skin feels like?”

Tim screamed internally. “He’s saved me from a kidnapping before.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I can get you the police report if you want.”

“Huh… And the others?”

“Not Supers. I can stab Damian the next time we’re at the manor if that’ll prove none of us are aliens.” He’d rather stab Jason, but that would probably only confirm to Bernard that Bruce used alien technology to bring him back.

“You probably shouldn’t stab your brother if he isn’t an alien.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I won’t stab him anywhere deadly.”

“That’s not the point,” Bernard said slowly.

“He’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

“So do you believe I’m not an alien now?” Tim huffed, letting go of Bernard’s jacket.

The blond’s eyes dipped down to Tim’s lips. “If I say no, will you kiss me like that again?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Tim said, but he kissed him anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay, but I still say Clark Kent is definitely Batman.”

“Sure, Bernard.”

[joyfulhopelox]

The Weasel and The Serpent

Summary: When Yoongi, a halfblood, enters Hogwarts he lies about being a pureblood and is welcomed into the elite of the Slytherin House. Yoongi spends the whole of his school life upholding this lie, terrified of being exposed. Until one day, Jimin's cousin, the loud and rambunctious Y/N enters his life and gradually breaks down the walls that he had tried so hard to build. Can the weasel and the serpent learn to co-exist?

Pairing: Slytherin!Yoongi x reader (Hogwarts!au)

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: light swearing

Word count: 13.2k

Rating: pg

A/N: Welcome to the first instalment of the Hogwarts for @homeofbangtan collab!

I want to thank everyone in the collab for being amazing and patient and incredibly lovely! @mochi-molala for being the catalyst of this fic, @min-yoon-kween for being an amazing support and beta reader and @ttaetae for this amazing banner. @delacyrose224 @alpacaparkaseok @joheunsaram @sunshinejunghoseokie @ggukcangetit for being an amazing squad!

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox

As always please leave feedback and/or talk to me as i love to hear from you! Enjoy <3

Who would have thought you would end up here? Knees bruised on the cold wet tiles, bent over, heartbroken and desperate. If at the beginning of the year someone would have said you’d be in this position, you would’ve laughed at them. But there you were, on your knees, watching helplessly, as the person that had become your everything suffering on the wet bathroom floor. The mournful sobs wrecking his body echoed through you, rendering you speechless. If it weren’t for the fact that it was Yoongi’s sobs you were witnessing, you would’ve thought it was Moaning Myrtle doing her usual rounds in the bathroom.

You willed yourself to move. The sound of your robes trailing through the murky water were muffled by the anguished cries and heart wrenching sobs. You felt powerless and it scared you. The feeling gripped at your heart tighter and tighter until you felt like you could not breathe.

How ironic is it, you thought, that when you first met him you were in the exact same position that he was in now. Yet, at the time, he knew exactly what to tell you, as if you’d been friends for a long time. This trait he possessed; the ability to read someone so well and yet be so detached from everyone, had made him popular in your year.

Everyone liked Yoongi, his aloof personality a complete contrast from his soft looks. With his coal black hair and pale white skin a contradiction to his soft lips and plump cheeks, it was hard to not be intrigued by him. Yet, for some reason you chose to keep him at an arm’s length. He became your cousin’s friend quite quickly. It was Park’s gift; having the ability to make friends and break hearts left and right. However, being the rising star of the Slytherin house, he made enemies just as quickly. But the relationship between him and Yoongi developed so quickly, you didn’t even see it coming. One day Jimin was loitering around the corridors being his dramatic self with only Taehyung to keep him in check. Next you run into him and Taehyung and Yoongi. They were whispering secretively to each other and you couldn’t pass up on the opportunity to intervene.

“Oi, Cocky Park, why are you acting like a bunch of gossip girls?” you shouted at him across the corridor. The three of them jumped apart in surprise and glanced at you, each face looking similar to a kid’s having been caught with his hands in the cookie jar. Satisfied at the reaction you got, you sauntered over to them.

“So, what’s the deal?” your grin intensified when Jimin’s flustered face morphed into an annoyed one. It meant you had done your job. You were cousins on your father’s side, but in reality you acted more like siblings. You grew up together, always around each other, your father and his attending meetings together. So of course in true sibling fashion, it was necessary to rile up the other.

Taehyung glanced at the both of you, knowing that if he did not intervene there would be bloodshed. “Hey, Y/N, uhhhh, we were just talking” he tried to distract you from the situation at hand. You tapped your foot impatiently, an eyebrow raised unimpressed and urged him to continue. “About what?”

Before Taehyung could say anything, Jimin stepped up, “Nothing that concerns you lesser Park, so run along to your clique” he smirks at you, his hand gesture dismissing you. You huff in annoyance.

“Cocky Park!” You warn glaring at him stepping closer to his frame. He was by no means tall, only a few inches taller than you, and you liked to remind him of that every single day knowing that it drove him up the wall. “I’ll tell mother about that one time you set the family portrait on fire just because-” Jimin instantly covered your mouth, not wanting to be exposed in front of his friends like that.

“Ok ok ok, enough,” He pleaded, your laugh muffled and your eyes displaying the satisfaction you felt at his distress. You had won this battle and you savoured every moment of it. “Take a chill pill J-Park.” Noticing the third person next to the double trouble of the Slytherin house you paused. “Oh, new friends?” You pointed towards the silent man behind them. During the whole interaction between the three of you he hadn’t said anything, his dark eyes meticulously observing the scene before him.

You decided it was rude of you to not introduce yourself. You may have a loud personality and be opinionated to the point of aggression sometimes but you couldn’t forget the etiquette that your parents instilled in you. Especially in front of a fellow Slytherin, so with a confident grin you stepped around the two clowns of the house and extended your hand out.

“I’m Y/N.” The stranger looked wearily at your hand before hesitantly extending his. You don’t wait for his hand to reach yours, grabbing it mid rise and waiting for him to tell you his name. Only for a drawn out silence to ensue. You give his cold hand a small encouraging squeeze, urging him to say something. Noticing the shift in atmosphere Jimin stepped up next to you grabbing your forearm.

“Y/N, Yoongi. Yoongi, Y/N” he quickly said whilst pulling your hand away from the hold. You eye your cousin suspiciously but decide to not say anything. Instead you look at Yoongi and offer him what you hope is a friendly smile. “ Nice to meet you Yoongi. Well I have to go back now, I have practice” you turn on your heels prepared to leave. But before you could rush off you stop abruptly as if you’ve remembered something. Turning back, you point to Yoongi’s hands, making the boy take a small step back at your abruptness. “Make sure to wear gloves Yoongi, it may still be autumn but the castle is cold and your hands are freezing.” With a wink you then turn your attention towards Jimin, pointing threateningly at him.

“And you, you better not be late for practice, Outdated Park. We can’t afford to lose in front of Jeon again so get your ass on the pitch on time or I'll tell Sunny about your massive-“ Jimin’s cheeks turned red instantly and he almost shoves you down the corridor desperate to not let you finish that sentence.

“I get it, now move your troublesome ass out of here,” he pleaded. Laughing you wave at the three of them one more time before you rush down the corridor to meet up with the rest of the Quidditch team.

That was the first time you saw Yoongi, not as tragic as the second time; where he stumbled upon you in a dimly lit corridor. You took refuge there after receiving an unsettling letter from your parents. Said letter, now suspiciously damp, dangled from your hands when he found you. Even though your face showed no sign of distress, if there was someone who could read emotions well it would’ve been apparent. Yoongi was that someone.

He approached you silently, cautiously. As if he was afraid his presence would set off the feelings you were trying so hard to suppress. He observed your blank face for a second, his face not giving away any of his thoughts. You knew he was there and yet, you did not move. You couldn’t, the fear and pain gripping at your heart making you immobile. The letter you had just read replayed in your mind constantly.

‘Our daughter,

As this year happens to be the last year of your studies, we have decided that it is time for us to think about your future. Your father and I have decided that once you have finished your exams you shall be coming back home to Murkwood Manor where you will be spending the summer attending galas thrown by esteemed families. We are pleased to have come to the conclusion that for your sake and progress into the pureblood society, a convenient marriage is the best option and what better place to find such connections than there?

We hope that you can see how much we are thinking about you and understand our worries about your future.

Your everloving parents.’

You tried to forget the words staining the white paper, but it proved to be difficult. You knew the day would come, you and Jimin having been primed for this since you were children. Unlike Jimin, who would have more freedom of choice as he was to inherit his parents’ manor, you were doomed to enter an arranged marriage. As a pureblood it had always been your duty. Before you understood what that meant, as a romantic, you used to be excited at that prospect. Your brain came up with scenarios similar to ones in books about wizards in arranged marriages and living happily ever after.

Once you grew up, the excitement morphed into apprehension. The prospect of being tied to someone you did not willingly choose was daunting. To receive a letter informing you of your imminent fate crushed you.

Yoongi let out a soft breath, the sound loud enough to break the silence between the two of you. You knew you had to acknowledge him and yet, you could not bring yourself to. You barely knew each other, but as soon as he crouched next to your slumped form, a hesitant hand reaching out for yours the dam broke. You didn’t know or care if his touch was the push you needed or if the tumultuous feelings running through you became too much. You let yourself weep, not caring about the man tightening his grip on your hand witnessing it.

Normally your mother’s voice would be ringing in your head, telling you that your behaviour was unladylike, that someone of your status should not act like this. But the cold touch enveloping your trembling hand offered you the comfort you needed to let go.

Though only a few minutes had passed they felt like an eternity to you, your violent sobs dissolving into sniffles, too tired to carry on. Unknowingly, your hand sought out the reassurance of Yoongi’s hand, your fingers now intertwined. He let you cry it out, not saying a word, but his mind was running at a hundred miles an hour. Had he not been an expert at hiding his feelings, you would have been able to see the sadness he felt displayed across his face. He could not fathom why you would be sitting on the stone cold ground, knees drawn to your chest, shivering and looking so...broken.

When your sniffles ceased you looked up at him, your face red and blotchy from crying. He didn’t ask, his understanding eyes only watched you as you tried to gather your thoughts. He didn’t ask and yet, you couldn’t help but tell him. Tell him of the fate that waited for you once you graduated. There was something about the way he looked at you, a comfort you found in his gentle gaze that you couldn’t help yourself. Hiccuping you let it all spill out, his grasp on your hands becoming your strength to carry on.

“Your parents don’t define who you are, you define who you are. Whatever you are feeling, going through and your future, your parents will not be with you forever. And if you spend most of your time pleasing them, when they are gone you will start resenting everything that you have become.”

With that Yoongi wordlessy let go of your hand and slipped out of the bathroom leaving you with a tear stained grubby face slumped on the bathroom floor.

For a few days after that you tried avoiding Yoongi like the plague. Too embarrassed at your outburst you found yourself leaving the Great Hall when he would enter, turning your head the other way when you happened to make eye contact in class and avoiding any conversation that brought him up. If anyone noticed your odd behaviour towards him they did not say a word. He didn’t try to approach you, and no one in your House mentioned anything about it, and so after that first week you relaxed. Your cousin, however, did notice and when he tried to approach you about it you dismissed it as not having enough free time with the Quidditch game around the corner.

“Y/N, you do know I am on the same team as you right?” Jimin’s use of your full name indicated he was serious about the conversation. Sighing your shoulders slumped, you were feeling tired of hiding around. After letting it all out in front of Yoongi, it felt like all your body wanted to do was shout out to the world how exhausted you were of being a member of a pureblood family. No one would understand you better than Jimin would.

“I’m just tired, Chim.” Jimin faltered, his seriousness melted into worry at the sound of your voice. You sounded meek, the exhaustion clear on your face. Jimin was never one for emotional display, but he was your cousin, he was your family, he was like your brother. He offered you the comfort that you sought, placing his arms around you. You didn’t wait for him to speak, the unasked question hanging above you like the ghosts roaming around the castle.

“I’m getting married.” At your words you felt Jimin stiffen. He knew what you were talking about, it was a long tradition in pureblood families. Arranged marriages were not uncommon, if only to keep the bloodline pure; so it was only a matter of time before this happened to you as well. He was lucky, as the male of the family, he had more freedom than you but that also didn’t mean he could marry just anyone. “Who?” Was all he asked and you took a moment to recollect yourself, wondering if the mention of the rival School in the tournament would be a bad idea. “Who, Y/N?”

You stepped away from him, your eyes glossy with unshed tears. “Someone from Beauxbatons. I don’t even know his face. Just his name. And I am supposed to live the rest of my life with this person.” You felt the tears gather in your eyes but you knew you couldn’t cry. Even if it was just Jimin, the rest of the courtyard was completely void of students, your pride stopped you from letting all your emotions flow. Yoongi caught you at your most vulnerable and since that day you swore to yourself you would never let it happen again. If anyone were to witness it and your parents to get wind of it, you would be reprimanded, possibly even punished.

Jimin felt the shift in you, your vulnerable demeanour instantly covered up by a cold emotionless wall. He tried to say something, anything to prevent that shift but he couldn’t bring himself to. He understood why you would do that; as a pureblood the expectation to be impeccable was high, and the slightest slip would end in punishment. Not wanting to push you towards an emotional breakdown he did what he normally did best and distracted you from your misery. Gripping your shoulders he smirked at you, “come on Park 2.0, we need to get on that pitch today and win.”

The sight of the Quidditch pitch along with your peers cheering and chanting, instantly calmed you. This was your home, on your broom, ready to kick some ass. Today was the game against the Gryffindor team and the contrast between the green of your House and the red of Gryffindor House formed an enchanting colour palette. The Team Captain was yelling instructions left and right, discussing the strategy once more but you didn’t care. All you wanted was to be up in the air and hit a few Bludgeons to vent your frustrations out. As soon as your Team is given the go ahead you kick off onto your broom. The feel of the air brushing your face and the sound of your teammates yelling encouragement to each other giving you the adrenaline that you needed to get your head in the game.

The chants fuelled you, dodging a Bludger here, slamming your bat into it, sending it into the direction of a chaser, your head never left the game. The dynamics of the group, the teamwork, they all made you proud to be part of the team. From time to time, your eyes would wander towards the bleachers, taking in the crowd. Your fellow Slytherins were cheering as loudly as they could, chanting everyone’s name. You rolled your eyes, of course the loudest yells would come from the Gryffindor side. Kim Seokjin and Jeon Jungkook were favourites and so, their names would be on every lion’s lips. A quick break from the referee allowed you to catch your breath, high fiving with your fellow beater. You were crushing this. Taking in a deep gulp of air to calm down your heartbeat you scanned the crowd once again, only to make eye contact with a dark haired Slytherin who seemed to be watching you intently. You smiled hesitantly, confused at his presence, Yoongi had never been the one to watch the Quidditch games, but his presence gave you confidence that everything would be alright.

The game wasn’t going in your favour, Gryffindor had a good chance at winning, everyone on the edge of their seats for the end of the match. Suddenly you saw Jimin and Jungkook diving towards the ground, neck to neck and you knew that they'd spotted the Snitch. Breath caught in your throat, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Jimin turns at the last minute, rising back up leaving Jungkook behind. In his hand he held the Snitch. The triumphant yell of the crowd switches from the Slytherin crowd towards the Gryffindor team and you lower your head dejected. Jimin may have caught the Snitch, but Gryffindor House had already won enough points to win the game without it. Sighing you turned towards your team, their hopelessness could be felt throughout the pitch. It wasn’t their fault, they’d played a good game, so in an attempt to cheer them up you started clapping. Soon, the crowd all caught onto what you were doing and joined in and quickly, what could have turned into a disastrous end for the team morale ended up quite the opposite. You turned yourself towards the crowd, the smile on your face widening at the sight of your fellow Slytherins cheering for you. In that moment you swore you didn’t look through the crowd for a particular person, but your eyes found his and your grin widened. Yoongi was clapping along with everyone else, his reassuring gaze never leaving yours. Suddenly you didn’t feel like you lost anymore, instead, you felt like a winner.

Under normal circumstances, the days after the game were the hardest to endure. This time however, the atmosphere felt lighter than even before the match. After the game ended and the team went back to change out of their uniform, your Team Captain held a speech about pride and defeat. That, along with the cheers from the crowd, lessened the sting of the loss and you promised yourselves that you will do better for the next one. However, classes and your professors waited for no one. With only a few weeks left until Christmas break the number of assignments kept rising, and the pressure of your N.E.W.Ts looming above your head forced you to spend every possible waking moment inside the library, your head stuck in a book. Despite being a Slytherin and not a Ravenclaw, you did enjoy studying. You were never alone whilst in there, especially now that Jimin and that Hufflepuff were spending more and more time in the library together. You got first hand experience of their budding relationship. Both of them being very much interested, yet both of them being very much oblivious.

It was during one of those days in the library when Yoongi approached you. The library was already full with students trying to cram a last minute essay. You were no better, your Potions essay due that afternoon, you tried to get as much done as possible. Writing about the properties of Amortentia was not a pleasant experience. Scribbling furiously, you bit your lip in concentration, not even noticing the silent dark haired man that sat down in front of you.

“You’re going to break your quill if you carry on writing like that.” His remark made you jump out of your skin, dropping your quill to the ground and knocking your ink over the sides of the table in the process. “Ah, shit.” You muttered as you tried to blot your parchment with your robes. Yoongi jumped out of the seat, hurrying to help you salvage your work, muttering his apologies to you incessantly. “It’s okay, no problem.” You smiled at him, you were not really upset, you knew your essay could be done better and maybe a restart is what you needed. “You actually did me a favour.” Confused, Yoongi glanced at your paper. “Isn’t it due today?” He motioned towards how much you’ve written, “and that looks like a lot of research to me.” Waving him off you sat back down and got out another piece of parchment.

“It wasn’t that good to begin with. Potions is not my strongest suit so I could probably do with rewriting it. There’s only so much, ‘and boom they fall in love’ that you can describe.” You laughed at Yoongi’s expression. He looked offended at your statement, and you took the time to admire his expressions. Never one to express too many feelings, at least not in your presence, it felt like a breath of fresh air. You couldn’t help but wonder what caused the change in behaviour. “Wait, a Slytherin, not good at Potions?” He mock gasped at you and you laughed. He looked a lot younger, freer this way and you couldn’t help but take in this carefree Yoongi. As you stared at the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled; his wide grin making his round cheeks puff out, you felt your heart speed up, and butterflies start fluttering in your stomach. “I know right?!” You carried on with his joke, not wanting this lighthearted atmosphere to end. “Appalling.” He nodded trying to look serious. You tried to hold in your laugh but when your eyes met, you couldn’t stop yourselves and burst out laughing.

“Shhhhhh.” The angry librarian loomed over the both of you and you bowed your heads in apology still trying to stifle your laughter. “Well, that is that… now you know my darkest secret.” So absorbed in getting your books together, you didn’t notice the way Yoongi stiffened. “I am bad at Potions, and it’s my final year and there is no way I can do anything about it now.” When you carried on, Yoongi relaxed a small smile thrown into your direction. “Would….you don’t have to, but would you like some help? I may not be the best….” You perked up instantly as soon as he said that, not even letting him finish you quickly grabbed his hand and nodded. “Nonsense. You are one of the best in our year!” You noticed the slight redness that crept up Yoongi’s cheeks and you smirked. “And I heard that you are going to be interning for the Auror Office at the end of school! I would be honoured if you helped me!” Sensing his hesitation, you paused for a second, trying to think of a way to make him feel more comfortable about it when an idea suddenly hit you. “How about an exchange?” You looked at him hopefully, his eyes roaming over your face trying to understand what you were proposing. “As in, is there anything that you may need help with?” You clarified and Yoongi nodded, finally understanding what you meant. He didn’t reply for a while and you started to get uncomfortable under his gaze. Shifting uneasily in your seat you cleared your throat, “of course, you don’t have to, I just thought it may make things a lot fairer if-”

“Defence” Yoongi interrupted abruptly. You stared at him for a second before your baffled expression turned into a smile. “Deal.” You took the deal, even though you knew very well that Yoongi was more than good at the subject, having managed to be one of the few people who could produce a Patronus in class. Deciding not to mention having observed his wispy Weasel Patronus almost starting to attack your Serpent one, you nodded at him extending your hand to seal the deal. Startled, Yoongi took a glance at your hand before hesitantly grabbing it. His warm hand enveloped yours and you gripped it, immediately finding comfort in his warm grip. Staring at each other for a second, the silence that settled over you wasn’t uncomfortable. There was a remnant of something that felt overlooked, as if there was something left unsaid between the two of you. Yoongi opened his mouth and your breath caught in your throat.

“Oi, Park!” Your cousin’s voice broke the comfortable bubble that you and Yoongi were in and you immediately dropped your hand on the table, pretending nothing had happened. You knew Jimin, and you knew he would not let you live it down if he noticed the position you and his friend were in. You schooled your face in a sneer and turned towards your obnoxious family member. “What Outdated Park?” You sneered at him, annoyed, then settled your eyes on the person hiding behind him. Sunny looked uncomfortable, so to ease the tension you smiled at her. It wasn’t that you didn’t like her, yet, you would not go out of your way to get to know her. “Are you ready for the Yule Ball?” Jimin airly said, dropping his arm over Sunny’s shoulder in such a casual way you could tell it was something he did often. At the thought of the Yule Ball, your mood instantly soured. Jimin knew there was no way you were excited about it, you glanced at Yoongi, who was doing his best to look at anyone but you. “Uhm, yeah, I guess.” You shrugged, the disappointment in our voice quite obvious.Yoongi chanced a glance at you, and you smiled sadly at him. “We will have to wait and see.” You broke eye contact, turning around to look back at Jimin, whose sympathetic eyes took in the interaction between you and his friend.

Yoongi felt his heart drop and his hand twitched. The sadness that he could read in your eyes made him want to grab your hand again, to reassure you, yet he stopped himself. He was nothing for you, and he could never be something. He would just stay as a friend and tutor, even though all he wanted to do was ask you to be his partner for the dance.

Staring at yourself in the mirror you took a deep breath in, your hands twitched at your sides. You were trying hard to not wipe them on your ball gown, your parents would kill you if you appeared less than perfect in front of anyone. Yoongi’s words rang loud and clear in your head. Refusing to acknowledge the truth of his statement you focused on your appearance once again. Tonight, you would be meeting your fiance officially - the thought as appealing as that one time you fell off the broom during the match against the Gryffindor team. You threw one more glance at yourself in the mirror before you acknowledged your friends calling your name.

“Coming! Wands out your asses.” You walk out of the dormitory into the Common Room. The dark atmosphere broken by the languid emerald flames coming from the fireplace, enhancing your satin dress. The lights caught in the folds of it giving it the fluidity of a crystal clear lake, the silver diamond like colour reflecting the green sheen cast around the room.

“Y/N, you have outdone yourself. Your partner is extremely lucky.” Your heart sped up at the thought of having to face your supposed arranged marriage partner. After you received your letter and had your emotional slip-up, you’d pushed the thought of your future fiance to the back of your brain. However, what you hadn’t realised was that with the Tournament happening at Hogwarts this year, you were going to meet your future husband sooner than intended. A pureblood from Beauxbatons; he was amongst the students chosen to be part of the visiting party. So, it didn’t surprise you when one afternoon, during your study session with your friends, he approached you. After he introduced himself, he immediately asked you to be his partner for the Yule Ball. No one else had dared to ask you to the Ball. Mouth agape you struggled to respond to him, knowing full well you couldn’t refuse, when you spotted Jimin and Yoongi making their way towards you.

“Hey Annoying Park.” Jimin greeted you, but at the sight of your discombobulated expression his face darkened, and he glanced between you and the Beauxbatons guy. “Who are you?” He narrows his eyes at the stranger and you would’ve laughed at his crassness if not for the conflicted feelings coursing through you. A small cough behind Jimin caught your attention and your eyes made contact with Yoongi’s. He shifted under your gaze as if uncomfortable and a sudden rush of embarrassment came over you. There was no reason to be ashamed of the situation you were in. Your future fiance had asked you to a ball, it was a perfectly normal situation. Nonetheless, the thought of Yoongi witnessing it made you squirm.

The tension was so thick you felt as if you were trapped in the darkness of the Forbidden Forest. The Beauxbatons student took a step forwards, placing himself in front of you in a protective manner. “Luc Millefeuille the Third.” He announced proudly, puffing his chest. Yoongi stiffened drastically at the name. He had heard it before, in newspapers. His great grandfather, the famous patissiere, was known for the serial mass poisoning of a group of muggles. The thought of you being chained to such a name made his skin crawl. If Jimin recognised the name he didn’t show it, instead he eyed the male with a steel gaze. “Nice to meet you.” Glancing at you he motioned with his head. “Red, we have practice to go to.” Taking the chance to get out of the situation you mumbled a goodbye to Luc before you hurried after Jimin.

In the end, Luc cornered you once more and you had no choice but to agree. Your parents were bound to have some harsh words for you if they found out you refused him. You knew of the family name, Jimin had made you aware of it. Despite your inherited indifference towards muggles, the thought of mass murder disgusted you. You didn’t know what your parents were planning and you couldn’t find out as your letters home had not been replied to.

“Y/N, are you ready?” You snapped out of your reverie. Turning to look at your friends, your smile grim, you nodded at them. “Yes, I guess so.” Patting your skirts once more you prepared to exit the dungeons just as the entrance opened, revealing a dashing Yoongi dressed in black robes, with a dark green sash around his torso. You faltered as you made eye contact with him, his eyes trailed down your form, darkening to the colour of tar. You felt yourself flush under his gaze, a slight tingle underneath your skin making you shift in discomfort. You couldn’t break eye contact with him even as your friends greeted him, his shocked gaze keeping you in place. “Y/N.” He whispered, taking a step towards you, you’re prepared to reach out to him when your sight is cut off by the abrupt entrance of the blonde Frenchman who barged past Yoongi.

“Y/N. You look delicious.” He smirked at you and you had to fight the urge to grimace. Grabbing your hand forcefully he doesn’t even acknowledge Yoongi as he dragged you out of the Common Room. Having to pick up your pace so that you didn’t trip over your dress, you looked back, your desperate eyes making contact with Yoongi’s dark ones once more. However, he’s gone from your sight the next second as Luc turned the corner.

Not being part of the Champions, the two of you had to wait near the entrance to the Great Hall, so you took your time observing the Christmas decorations that littered the gradious hall. The theme was a dark blue, with stars sparkling above your heads bathing the dance floor in an ethereal glow. You spotted Jimin and Sunny waiting to the side for the signal to start the dance. You could tell she was nervous by the way she gripped at Jimin’s robes, whispering animatedly in his ear. You laughed to yourself, you didn’t know her very well and you weren’t her biggest fan per se, but their relationship was adorable. Both of them were so oblivious to the other it was almost endearing if not borderline annoying.

Luc’s grip on you hasn’t softened since you entered the Grand Hall, it was starting to make you feel uncomfortable. You stepped to the side as you tried to get him to loosen his hold on you. When you were unsuccessful, you stomped your foot near his. “Let go.” You warned him through gritted teeth. Not only did he ignore you, but he tightened his grip on your arm as he dragged you forwards towards the rink. You didn’t even notice that the Champions had finished with their first dance, and now it was open to everyone to join in. You knew you’d regret it later, as you missed the opportunity to witness your cousin’s marvelous dancing with his clumsy partner, but you had more pressing matters to sort out. Your partner pulled you onto the dance floor and with a sneer he glanced at you, “I hope you know how to dance, I don’t want to be embarrassed.” You bit back a remark, you knew you couldn’t cause a scene in the middle of so many people, no matter how loud you normally were. Instead of answering you tighten your grip on his shoulder, your eyes coldly staring past him.

As you glided in a waltz across the floor you took your time scanning the room, taking in all the couples, the decorations and most importantly, your eyes were searching for the sole person you wanted to see that night. You spotted him in a corner near a table, his eyes already on you. The intensity with which he was watching you made a shiver run down your spine. This time, it didn’t feel uncomfortable, on the contrary Yoongi’s gaze on you felt reassuring. The whole dance you kept your gazes locked on each other, Yoongi not even glancing away as his partner got pulled from him for a dance. Even though you were apart, and you were dancing with the man meant to be your husband, it felt like it was just you and Yoongi in the room.

You stepped away from Luc as soon as the dance ended. Muttering an excuse about needing refreshments you fought the urge to gag when instead of offering to get them for you, he burdened you with his own refreshments. Taking any excuse that you could to get away from him you nodded and hurriedly made your way towards the tables where Jimin greeted you.

“You could’ve done worse.” His mocking tone irked you and you resisted the urge to kick him in the shin. Instead you angrily grabbed a glass of mead and downed half of it in one go. “Woah there, slow down.” Jimin backed away from you. “If you tell me it’s unladylike Park, I swear on Peeve’s dung bombs you and Sunny will not have any children.” You grumbled under your breath at him, not caring that said girl was also next to him, both their faces now beet red. “I am close to murdering him.” You sighed, the drink and reprieve you had from your French fiancee finally calming you down. “Oh Merlin’s beard, here he comes.” You spotted Luc making his way through the crowd with a pompous stride, heading straight towards you. Grabbing Jimin by his robes in a desperate attempt to hide, you didn’t notice the other man that reached you before your fiance could. With a yelp, you stumbled straight into Yoongi’s chest, his hands wrapping around your waist in an attempt to steady you. “You’re good.” He whispered in your ear. Your stomach clenched at his low voice and his breath hitting the sensitive shell of your ear. Mumbling a thanks you stepped away from him, your eyes never leaving his. You could feel your heart speeding up and you had to resist the urge to grab onto him for support once more.

“Y/N, where are the drinks?” Luc’s voice broke you out of your daze, and you turned away from Yoongi to face him. “I- uh- forgot.” You mumbled causing the Frenchman to scoff at you, a look of pure disgust on his face. “I can’t believe my wife is this stupid.” He spat at you. You could feel your blood boiling in anger, but before you could reply Jimin stepped in front of you. “She is not your wife and she is definitely not stupid.” You could hear the anger in his voice. Luc sized him up, knowing that he couldn’t have an argument with the head of the Park family, that would ruin any chances. Instead he sneered at your cousin whilst grabbing your arm tightly. “Come on.” He glared at you, but having had enough you stood your ground trying to pry your arm out of his grip. “Let me go.” You said through gritted teeth, you were close to hexing his ass and no one would have been able to stop you. Pulling at you roughly once more trying to get you away from your friends, he suddenly tripped over his robes. You yelped feeling yourself start to fall down along with him, when a hand grabbed you and pulled you towards a familiar chest. In the corner of your eyes you noticed a wand being placed back into the black robes that Yoongi was wearing.

“What happened?” Luc looked around confused, picking himself off the floor and you realised straight away what Yoongi had done. “Your robe’s dirty.” Yoongi pointed out with a monotonous voice, and you fought back a laugh. You could see the change in Luc’s eyes, the anger making him explode. With a flurry of curses thrown around in French, he stormed out of the Great Hall. You stared after him in silence for a second before you couldn’t help it anymore and you burst out laughing. “Oh, wow. Who would have thought?” Jimin finally calmed down enough to speak. “Now if you’d excuse us, Sunny needs to polish her dancing skills.” Saying that he grabbed said girl by the arm and led her towards the dance floor. Still chuckling to yourself you turned towards Yoongi, a sparkle in your eyes that made his heart burst with warmth.

“Confundus eh? Thank you. I don’t know how to repay you for that.” You smiled kindly at him, waiting for a response. But when he silently extended his hand towards you, all you felt was the blood rushing to your head, making you dizzy. “You could dance with me.” His tone was calm, not once giving away the nervousness that he felt beneath his skin. You didn’t even hesitate, you placed your hands in his. He led you towards the dance floor, wrapping his arm around your waist, whilst you daintily placed your hand on his shoulder. As you slowly started to glide along the dancefloor between the couples, your eyes locked onto his. The charmed stars twinkling above you, your heart fluttered in hope.

Needless to say, Christmas holidays came and went, your trip home cut short by your desire to be away from your obnoxious family, and the excitement of continuing your studies alongside Yoongi. With his help, you started making progress with your Potions, and you would have long chats about anything and everything during the hours you were meant to be studying for Defence. Yoongi felt happy, it felt like everything was finally going right. Until that one fateful day when a curse and a fight would change everything for him. He never thought that by being himself just once in his life, would cost everything he had managed to build over the past seven years at the school.

Yoongi’s heart dropped. He’d been found out. He could tell just by looking at everyone’s reaction. The friends he’d managed to make, had found out about his blood status. If not certain, they are suspecting him now. Suddenly, flashbacks of his father degrading him- calling him a dirty blood traitor, whilst making sure the skin of his wrist was raw and blistery, plagued his mind. His thoughts filled with his father’s harsh words, accompanied by his mother’s cries; the symphony of Yoongi’s life. He stood frozen on the spot, the adrenaline coursing through his veins causing him to enter the fight or flight mode. His wide eyes took in the faces of the people that have always supported him for the past few years he’s been at Hogwarts.

But then again, could Yoongi even call these people friends? Could he say they have always supported him? He glanced at Jimin.

Jimin, the person whom he thought was a stuck up pureblood. The person who approached him, offered him not only a seat at the Slytherin table, but also a group to belong in. He could vividly recall the day he got put into his house. He was terrified when the Sorting Hat sealed his fate with a simple holler- “SLYTHERIN!” Yoongi was aware of the house's reputation and fame. Full of purebloods, prejudice and pride; his mother had warned him to stay away from them. But how could he, now that he was one of them? In a split moment, he decided then and there that he would not allow anyone know about his status, he would take it to his grave if he had to. So with a strengthened resolve he created Slytherin Yoongi. Gone was the boy who would openly smile until his cheeks hurt, the boy who dreamt of happy endings, the boy who would innocently sit by the lake, his eyes following the murtlaps chasing each other. In his stead, a coldness settled over him. He knew that in order to make it he had to avoid being too close to anyone. Becoming friends with people would only make it harder for him to hide who he was. So he hid in the shadows on his own, keeping himself away from activities that would force him to interact with people more than necessary.

Until Jimin came along. Under the pureblood facade, Jimin was charismatic and flirtatious with everyone and that made him very popular amongst his fellow Slytherins. Yoongi stood no chance against his charms, and when one day he felt himself pulled down, to sit with the most popular Slytherin boy and his best friend he did not know what to make of it.

“You look terrified,” Jimin laughed at Yoongi’s expression.

Being aloof and stiff with most of his peers made Yoongi very good at reading people. However, there was one person he could not read at all, and that was himself. Conflicted most of the time, the battle between the soft hearted boy who would try his best to make everyone happy and the new indifferent one mirrored in his eyes. Jimin was not stupid by any means, Yoongi found that out along the way. The internal battle that he was going through was not unnoticed by the pureblood Slytherin. Thinking about his friend and their journey into their friendship caused an old wound to reopen, a new wave of pain washing over him.

Then there was Jin, his neighbour Jin, who had stuck with him through thick and thin since childhood. Jin was there to pick him up when the other muggle children started calling him a freak. He never thought that Jin would end up at Hogwarts, not until they both got their letter when their mothers met up during their weekly cooking sessions. Getting excited over the letters, their mothers gushed at the two of them being best friends forever. Having Jin be there with him when they both entered the grand halls of the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was a comfort he knew he shouldn’t indulge in. After all, they would probably not end up in the same house, and having read enough about the School, he knew there were rivalries, stereotypes. He couldn’t bear the thought of Jin becoming his enemy. So he kept his distance. But as usual, Jin had an innate ability to jump in and save the day, a stubbornness only characteristic to Gryffindors. So, Jin stayed by his side. The boy was smart enough to not reveal their friendship to everyone. Until this day, that is.

Then there was Red, you were the sole reason his cold facade melted. For you he became the person that he used to be. Warm hearted and ready to jump to anyone’s aid. He tried his best to not let his wall crumble, and for the most part he succeeded. But in his heart, something changed, something shifted. Your loud and honest personality paired with your stubbornness and your laissez faire attitude drew him in straight away. Yet, you were Jimin’s cousin, born as a pureblood, with the values of a Slytherin. You were loud and proud about being who you were. Never obnoxious about it, but there would be times when you would slip in one insult or another towards fellow ‘mudblood’ students. Yoongi knew then that as enraptured as he was by you, he had to keep you at a distance. He could not let you find out who he was, so he denied himself the intimacy with you that he desperately craved.

He got caught in the web of lies he has created around his persona. The Yoongi that everyone knew was a facade, he was not and he would never be that Yoongi. He wasn’t the pureblood genius that everyone knew, and he certainly was not the pureblood that could ever hope to win Red’s heart. At the thought of you his eyes honed in on yours. To his surprise he couldn’t see any animosity in them, instead the sheen that glossed over your eyes spoke of pain. The sight of you there, amongst the people who have witnessed his comeuppance was unbearable to him and so with one last wistful glance at you, he turned on his heels and ran.

“Yoongi!” The chorus of voices calling him was drowned out by the desperation in your voice.

He ran as fast as he could, stumbling into people, his eyes filling with hot tears. His legs were starting to hurt, and as he passed students, teachers, statues, Peeves who tried to pelt him with water - all he could focus on was the scene that had sealed his fate. The punches, his innate reaction to help his friends. The way Jin and Jimin had thrown meaningless words at each other. Something so unlike Jin that he did not know what to do, he acted instantly to break up the fight. Seeing his childhood friend, his brother, this aggressive triggered something in him he had not felt for a while. Fear.

He feared that Jin may have snapped, the trials of his life finally catching up to him at one word sputtered by Park’s mouth, so he acted out of pure instinct. He got in between the two, but to everyone’s surprise, Jimin was not the person he first reached out to. It was Jin who worried him the most. Talking to him in front of everyone as if he was an old friend, saying things to him that he shouldn’t have known, raised an alarm in everyone’s minds. When everything finally calmed down, Jin calmed down and Park, constrained by Taehyung. Yoongi was the only one left in the middle of the crowd, exposed and afraid.

Seeing him stand like that, his nervous countenance so unlike the cool composed man you’ve come to know, spurred you on. Cautiously you approached him, your hand extended towards him. “Yoongi?” You tried to get his attention however, your voice came out softer than you’d intended. Clearing your throat, you tried again, this time with a lot more conviction. “Yoongi, are you...ok?” To your credit, you settled for the safest of questions. There were a million thoughts running through your head, how did he know Jin? Most importantly, how did he know Jin so well? You have never once witnessed any contact between him and the Gryffindor Head Boy, other than the occasional nod in his direction. But this, everything you’ve heard, it seemed like their relationship ran deeper than Hogwarts. Purebloods and muggles in your head did not mix, especially Slytherins, unless there was something there that you were missing. That thought now in your head, you threw a hesitant glance in Jimin’s direction. It was easy to spot him amongst the rest, his face the only calm composed one out of all of them. Taehyung, Sunny, Nerd- the surprise was clear and apparent on their faces. Jimin’s calm composure told you all you needed to know- he was aware of the situation. Promising yourself to question him later, you turned your attention back to Yoongi, who as time passed looked more and more like a cornered animal, and you knew that at any moment he would flee the scene. Without thinking you took three rushed steps towards him, your eyes locked onto his. You read the sheer panic in them and before you could react his feet had carried him halfway across the hallway. “Yoongi!”

Without thinking you ran after him, ignoring your cousin’s shouts for you to return. You did what you normally did best, acted rashly and ignorantly. As a beater on the Slytherin team you had the athletic advantage and so you quickly caught up with his retreating form. Reaching out for his arm you stopped him dead in his tracks. “Yoongi. Stop.” Your voice sounded harsher than you’d intended, so desperate to get him to listen to you that you did not consider how your tone would affect him. You waited, not even phased by the sound of the other students milling in the corridors, the sight of his back being all you could see. The sound of his laboured breathing all you could hear. You uttered his name again yet, he did not turn around to face you, and for a second your composure crumbles. You squeeze his arm trying to get his attention, trying to get him to respond to you, trying to get him to do something. Caught up in your own thoughts and worries you yelped in surprise, you didn’t even notice his sharp intake of breath before he suddenly yanked his arm out of your hold.

“What do you want now?” The tone of his voice is as cold as the corridor you are both in. Your heart clenches at the sound. You were expecting him to be hurt or scared, but the anger that you could read in his voice takes you by surprise. How Slytherin of him, you thought, and how Slytherin of you to assume he would be anything but angry. All your life you’ve been indoctrinated to believe that anyone is below you, no matter who they are, all your life you were taught to assume you could read everyone, and you would always be right in your assumptions. Prejudice is not a winner in this case, you realised, not when it comes to love. Because all the nights you have spent in your dark room mulling over what had transpired between the two of you since that day in the bathroom, to the Yule Ball where you could barely think of dancing with anyone else but him. You didn’t see it coming, like a Bludgeon to the head, but your heart did. You tried and tried to tell yourself that it was not love, but it was already too late.

“Yoongi, please don’t shut us out.” You haven’t pleaded in your life, the sound of your voice a surprise to your ears. Before you could think too much into it, Yoongi’s response hit you like the Cruciatus curse.

“Why? Why would I not? Why would I let you use my situation to fuel your pureblood pride?” He spat and you recoiled instantly from him, you’ve never heard such venomous words coming from him. “Yoongi,” you whispered, the fire in your heart dwindling. “Why are you like this? I’ve never....why,” you tried to find your words but the hurt and shock running through your body made it difficult. “You’ve never been like this.” You finally settled. Yoongi narrowed his eyes at you, his fierce expression made you tremble. The shivers running down your spine didn’t stop even as he carried on. The malicious tone of his voice bleeding through your veins like ice cold water. For a second you wonder if this is what Jimin’s felt like as Sunny pulled him out of the Black Lake. Cold and scared.

“What do you know about me?” You open your mouth to respond but he stops you dead in your tracks. “Nothing!” he hissed. “You don’t know anything about me. You know Yoongi, the Slytherin. But you don’t know anything about Min Yoongi the person.” His words cut through you and in that moment you’d rather be stuck with an army of Dementors than hear the accusations thrown your way. You knew he was right, you knew nothing of him. You hadn’t tried to even after your brain finally accepted that your heart belonged to him. Ashamedly, you cower away from him, your heart stuck in your throat, the sudden feeling of nausea hitting you as if you’ve had more Butterbeer than needed. You couldn’t speak, your words falling short of your own feelings. You wanted to tell him you wanted to know him, the real him, pureblood or not, it was him you have fallen in love with. You wanted to tell him the extent of your feelings, yet nothing would come out. The silence that settled over the two of you was pressing and your senses were telling you to run, to get away from the uncomfortable feelings coursing through you. There was a reason you were sorted in Slytherin, more than your pureblood status, the need for self preservation ingrained in you since birth.

Yoongi’s laugh brought you back to the present, the despair you could discern in it made your heart break. Once more, the need to yell out your feelings, to comfort him like you did that day in the bathroom, willed you to move, and so you did. Taking a small weary step, the need to be closer to him overriding your cautiousness you softly whispered his name.

Scared and confused, Yoongi knew he had shut himself in. He was aware of what his words were doing to you, yet he could not bring himself to care. Not when all he could feel was the rejection that had trumped over his entire life, not when the hurt he has carried since birth which was not even his own doing, fuelled his emotions. His heart was screaming at him to move away from you before he did more damage, to remove himself from your vulnerable form, something he had only witnessed twice, your pride never allowing you to show anything less than perfection. However, what he did was the complete opposite to that. The hand that was extended towards him, in an attempt at reconciliation, made him bristle, and so, acting like a cornered Hippogriff, he took the bite in the form of words. Words he would come to regret later, but at that moment, it did not matter to him.

“Stop, just stop.” His voice was loud and clear, the hardness of it washing over you. He could have cast a Stupefy spell over you and the results would have been the same. You froze, the feeling of dread gripping at your heart. “Do you think you can come here, with your pretty words and make everything better?” He spat, his eyes blazing with anger. “You don’t know anything about me, and you wouldn’t care to know.”

Finding your voice, the anger he is throwing at you fuelling yours, you narrowed your eyes at him. “Yoongi, stop. I never said I did not want to know you. I will never shut you out like you are now. Stop being a coward. Don’t shut us out,” The anger in your voice dissipated, leaving the desperation that you felt to seep through. “Don’t shut me out.” But Yoongi is relentless, his anger blinding, he knew he needed to protect himself from what was to come and so, he chose to do it in the only way he’s known how to, by distancing himself from people and his own feelings. “So what, are you implying you’d be friends with a mudblood?” He scoffed, and for a second you couldn’t find the will to speak. Taking it as an agreement, Yoongi carries on, his voice more spiteful than before. “See what I mean? You are not going to shut me out? That is a lie, and you know it. What would your parents think about their perfect princess being friends with a dirty blood traitor huh? What would they say if you brought something as disgusting as that and presented him as your friend? You couldn't, could you? Your perfect status is too important to be tainted” He took another step towards you, but this time instead of meeting him in the middle, you took a step back. The fire in his eyes, and the hatred in his voice terrified you.

“But you’re not a mudblood, not…” You couldn’t continue, your heart stuck in your throat, and the taste of bile invaded your tastebuds once more. You could feel the tears pricking, waiting to come out. Yoongi stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide as if you’ve burnt him. And maybe you have, because the next second he groaned in frustration, “see what I mean, Y/N? Full mudblood or not, blood status will forever matter to you. And this is why you need to stay away from me. Forget I even existed in your life.” With that he turned around and left in a hurry his robes billowing behind him, not even bothering to glance back at your broken form. He knew he shattered you, his words pierced through your heart, he could’ve used an Unforgivable Curse on you and it would have been kinder than this. Yoongi tried his hardest to not break down in front of you but as soon as he turned the corner and was out of your sight he crumpled to the ground, his silent sobs a mirror of your echoing ones.

He didn’t know how long he’d stayed there, he didn’t know when his legs carried him to the bathroom that Moaning Myrtle normally did the rounds in, yet he wasn’t disturbed by anyone. He didn’t even notice you entering and trying to talk to him again, all he could hear was the yells of his father, the abuse he suffered because of what he was, all to the soundtrack of his own sobs. He could feel his body begging him to stop, to stop crying himself to exhaustion. When he eventually calmed down he found himself unable to move, and you were nowhere to be seen. His body stiff from sitting in one position for so long, his head pounding with the effort of crying, he felt empty. Helpless. He didn’t know where to go from there, aware it was late he willed himself to move. He knew he needed to return to the dungeons, it would be around this time that Jimin would start his rounds as Prefect and he didn’t want to risk getting points taken away from them if anyone else but Jimin found him loitering in the corridors. Though, that wouldn’t be unlike him, a disappointment to his house.

Luckily for him, the way to the Common Room was deserted. Before entering, the growl coming from his empty stomach reminded him he missed dinner and so at the last minute he took a detour towards the kitchens, hoping that one of the Elves could make him something to eat. Standing in front of the painting he tickled the pear. Entering the kitchens he greeted the House Elves but to his surprise, he found himself staring at Jimin. Muttering his name Yoongi went to turn around and leave, the sight of his friend a painful reminder of what happened a few hours prior. “Yoongi, wait.” Jimin’s voice sounded stern and by habit, Yoongi stopped dead in his tracks. He didn’t want to face his friend, the friend who always thought he was something he wasn’t, something he could never be, and something that Jimin valued above anything else. The thought of you crossed his mind and he closed his eyes tightly in grief. How could he dare face the cousin of the person he’s hurt the most?

“Jimin.” He couldn’t say anymore than that, his feelings clear in his voice. He felt angry, he felt ashamed, he felt like a fraud. No one said a word, the hustle and bustle of the House Elves the only noise that could be heard around them. Finally, Jimin sighed as he sat back down, motioning for Yoongi to join him. Yoongi hesitated, he shouldn’t. He didn’t know what Jimin would do now that he knew his friend wasn’t what he said. “Please sit or I'll have to report you to the Headboy for being out this late.” Yoongi narrowed his eyes. He wouldn’t put it past Jimin to do such a thing so he complied, and sat down further away. Once again Jimin sighed,”look, I won’t discuss what happened today unless you wish to.” Yoongi’s eyes widened, unable to believe what he was hearing. It was so unlike Jimin to make a pass at someone in such a way.

“Then why am I sitting here?” Yoongi bit back, too exhausted to lash out at Jimin, even though that is all he wanted to do. “Because you are my friend.” Yoongi couldn’t help but scoff at Jimin’s words, “Yes, you are my friend Yoongi, nothing can change that, especially since you are in love with my cousin.” Yoongi froze, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His brain was yelling at him to deny it, how could he love you, when all he’s done was hurt you, yet his heart wholeheartedly agreed with Jimin. Confused by his own feelings, he didn’t say anything while waiting for Jimin to continue. Seeing that his friend was not going to react to his words Jimin sighed and continued. “Look, I knew who you were, I've known since 4th year.” Yoongi snapped his head round to look at Jimin, his eyes wide in surprise. “You...knew? Why then...?” he whispered and Jimin nodded. “Yes, I knew. Why, then, did I not say anything or why have I stayed your friend?” Yoongi nodded at the latter, he wanted answers for both of those questions but he would take whatever Jimin would give him. Jimin sighed once more, he never realised how broken his friend actually was, and it broke his heart to see it. “Because no matter what, you are who you are, not what your blood status is. Yes, there is prejudice, and I apologise if I've ever made you feel like I would shun you because of this, but I frankly don’t care. My family does, but I don't care what they do either.” Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh, relief washing over him. Jimin didn’t care. It felt as if a rock had been lifted off his chest. Jimin smiled grimly, “I will fight until the end with them if it means I get to live the life I want.” Yoongi nodded in understanding. “Is this about Sunny?” Jimin hummed in agreement. “I will tell my parents after graduation.” Yoongi shuddered, he knew where this was going, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to refuse. “I will consider.” He said and got up to leave; suddenly he wasn’t hungry anymore.

“That is all I am asking of you.” Yoongi smiled grimly at Jimin but didn’t reply. Jimin continued, “And Yoongi, what I just said about not caring what you are? I know Red doesn’t either. So please consider that too.” Yoongi left without uttering another word, his heart pounding in his chest.

The sight of the looming manor made Yoongi stop dead in his tracks, his blood ran cold and he fought the instinct to Disapparate back to his home. He was here for Jimin’s sake, he needed to be there for his friend so with a sigh he dejectedly made his way towards the entrance. With the last bit of his strength he prepared himself to knock, only to be startled when the door opened for him as soon as he raised his hand towards the knocker. Confused, he took a cautious step inside, expecting someone to yell at him for trespassing. When only silence greeted him, he glanced around, taking in the intimidating vastness of the corridor. The mahogany theme of the door continued inside, the tall ceiling supported by wooden beams displaying various carvings. Yoongi took his time observing the paintings displayed above his head, the intricacy and detail told him they were an expensive artifact. Taking a few more hesitant steps, he came face to face with a grand mirror, its frame made out of solid gold and Yoongi couldn’t help but huff at the thought of a Slytherin owning something else apart from silver. But then again, Jimin has never been your usual Slytherin. Before he could wonder further into the house, his ears picked up a murmur carrying over from the right hand side.

Determined to not make himself appear like a muggle, he took a deep breath in and with a determined stance, straightening his back he prepared himself to fully enter enemy territory. He was a lithe person, normally living in the shadows, he was used to not making a sound as he walked. Sometimes that would be a blessing and sometimes it would be a curse. As he approached the location where the voices were coming from he decided it was the former rather than the latter. Turning the corner, his heart stopped for a second. With her back towards him, in full dark green robes, bent over, whispering cautiously to a house elf, stood Red. He hadn’t seen you since that last argument, the two of you making it clear you wanted nothing to do with each other. You played this avoidance game throughout to the end of the year, it wasn’t hard to do so.

With your N.E.W.Ts around the corner, you both got stuck studying for your respective classes. Fortunately for him, aside from Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts you two didn’t share any other classes together. So for the rest of the year, you two didn’t have any unnecessary meetings. At first, Yoongi felt relieved, the way he treated you at that time was a painful memory, not having the chance to face you about it eased his mind. He wasn’t wrong when he told you during your dance at the Yule Ball that he was going to hurt you, you adamantly refused to believe him. That night in the corridor when he degraded your status as a pureblood with all the hatred he could muster, he saw the heartbreak in your eyes. At the time, he couldn’t care less, the painful memories of his childhood completely blinding him, the shame hit him a few hours later when he talked to your cousin. “She has the right to love whomever she wants, what she doesn’t have is a choice to have whomever she wants. Yet, she’s fighting for that choice, and her choice is you. She couldn’t have found a better cause to fight for.”

Those words stayed in his heart until the end of the year, he didn’t know how or when, but he’s slowly come to terms with his feelings. He suspected his talk with Jin about it also helped. Jin, who came to apologise about the situation he put Yoongi through, however, contrary to his first reaction, Yoongi was quick to assure him it didn’t matter. People were bound to find out regardless, it wasn’t as if the situation ended up that way due to Jin’s malicious intent. The discussion with Jin made him realise that people haven’t treated him differently. He’s managed to make friends during these years at Hogwarts, and the friends he’s made liked him for himself, not his status in society. The only people who may have had a real issue with it were the first people to find out, the people who accepted him without a doubt.

At the sight of you, crouched to the House Elf’s level whispering instructions, his gaze softened. You were one of those people, and yet, he treated you horribly. As a Slytherin pureblood you had your faults, pride being one of them, but you’ve never treated anyone differently based on their blood status. You tended to stay away from what would be deemed as ‘impure blood’ but that wasn’t a choice, the rivalries and prejudice between Houses made it difficult to overcome that. Suddenly his ears picked his name out from the conversation and he took a step back, assuring that he was hidden from view.

“Make sure Yoongi doesn’t realise, ok? Honestly, how can he Disapparate in front of the Manor and come knock like a muggle?” Yoongi’s heart clenched at your words, maybe he was wrong, maybe you did avoid him on purpose. Before his thoughts could take over his actions, you carried on, “this family would not only suspect him, but go to the depths of looking into his family history. Make sure no one realises he didn’t Floo himself here, Harvey.” Yoongi unknowingly took a few steps closer to you, his body now in full view. Straightening up, you turned to leave the room when you caught sight of Yoongi’s frozen form.

Your surprised expression instantly turned cold, as you nodded at him in acknowledgement. “Yoongi.” Said man couldn’t find his words to greet you, the discrepancy between your cold words to him and what he’s heard earlier making his head spin. Your face may have been stony cold, but your heart bled for him. You’d missed him- playing the avoidance game had been the hardest thing you’d ever had to do. Seeing him now, looking fresher and healthier than he was the last time you saw him, hurt. Because you knew that it was you who’d managed to bring him to despair. You may have done it subconsciously, or maybe you weren’t even a part of it, but the guilt gnawed at your inside nonetheless. Your world was not healthy for him. You knew that. You shouldn’t have even thought about bringing him into it, this wasn’t a fairytale, and it would never be. You needed to let him go. Defeated, you prepared yourself to leave. But just like Jimin had stopped him that night in the kitchens, Yoongi decided that it was time to stop being a coward. He needed to face his demons, and most importantly he needed to make sure you never left his side again.

“Y/N.” The tone of his voice made you stop abruptly, your eyes widened in panic. This was not meant to happen, you weren’t ready to face him on your own just yet. Putting on the most cordial face you could, you nodded at him in acknowledgment. “Yoongi. How have you been?” He hated it- hated this politeness towards him. Where was the woman who put him in his place more than once? Where was the woman whose pride meant she had to have the last word. “I-Fine.” He was so caught off guard by your behaviour that he found the words he’d prepared stuck in his throat.

Staring at him for a second longer, you nodded. “Well-“ Yoongi knew what you were going to say so with a last surge of courage he plunged. “I love you.” You froze, your brain trying to wrap itself around the confession that Yoongi just hurtled at you. “What?” You whispered, you needed to make sure you heard it correctly. Yoongi took a deep breath in, the cat was already out of the bag, and he would be as truthful with you as he could without drinking any Veritaserum. “I love you, I may not be the best for you, by Merlin, I am not even a possibility for you, but I wanted to let you know. I’ve run away too much, and you were right, I’ve been a coward. But if I want to stand any chance against your family, I need to stop hiding behind my hatred and cowardice.” His words were said with such conviction they brought tears to your eyes. Unknowingly, your feet carried you closer and closer to him, until you broke off into a run, not caring about how unladylike you may have looked. You threw yourself into his arms making him stumble. “I love you.” You whispered into his shirt, the tears flowing down your cheeks washing away the pain you’ve garnered in your heart. There was nothing else exchanged, there was no need to. You both knew how you felt, you both knew the other knew how you felt. You were both aware it will be a tough ride for the both of you, but your hearts were mending and that was all that mattered.

“What about the French bastard?” Yoongi broke out of your hold and looked at you in confusion. “What about him?” Your eyes are twinkling like the night stars, and Yoongi swore he saw galaxies in your smile. “My parents don’t want a son in law who ditches their daughter at a ball.” You chuckled as Yoongi’s eyes widened. “Plus,” you grabbed his hand and led him out of the drawing room towards a grandiose, intricately carved door. Behind it, Yoongi could hear murmurs and he assumed that is where the party was being held. “Jimin can be very convincing when he wants to.” You winked at him playfully.

“Let's hope he’s more than willing to be convincing today too.” Yoongi smirked and he looked at you. “You ready?” At your nod, you both waved your hands whispering Alohomora and watched with your hearts in your throat as the door opened. It was now or never.

As Jimin announced his relationship to Sunny, your hand gripped Yoongi’s subconsciously. Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest in fear. Fear for Jimin and his relationship, but most importantly, fear for yourself and your own chances at a happy relationship with Yoongi. You glanced at said man, he looked terrified as if he was the one under scrutiny, you could notice his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. The silence in the room felt heavy and you turned your attention towards your parents. You knew it was selfish, it was Jimin you should be worried about and yet, all you could think of was the man next to you. The man who managed to brave this manor, and these purebloods despite his adversity to them. All for your cousin. You could see the tick in your parent’s jaw, you could see the tension between Jimin and his father, so thick you could cut it with a knife. No one dared to say anything for a while, and just like that, with the sounds of a platter dropping to the floor the tension was broken like a spell. Everyone’s heads turned towards the source of the noise. There in the middle of the fireplace, stood the fashionably late Taehyung, having Floo’d in straight into a House Elf serving a platter of wine. “My apologies for the lateness!” He exclaimed as he took in the mess he’s managed to create. With a wave of his hand he mumbled “Reverte” under his breath, not giving the House Elf another look as he made his way in between Jimin and his father. “Mr. Park, lovely to see you.” He bows his head in respect, not giving Jimin’s father any time to react, Taehyung turns quickly towards Jimin. “Jimin, you are needed in the Auror Office today as soon as possible.”

If you wouldn’t have known those two rascals from a very young age you would’ve thought it a coincidence, a bloody godsend, but because you have been around them since diapers you didn’t miss the slight turn at the corner of Taehyung’s mouth, or the way Jimin subtly nodded at him. They have planned this from the beginning, and with a small relieved laugh you acknowledge Tae’s greeting with a wave of your hand.

“They planned this all along didn’t they?” Yoongi’s whisper in your ears makes you shudder. Still chuckling to yourself you nod, “of course they did, it’s the double trouble of Hogwarts, well I should say the Auror’s Office now shouldn’t I?” Turning towards him, you don’t miss the amused glint in his eyes. You barely notice the commotion of the party carrying on around you, your fingers intertwined with Yoongi’s, your gazes locked and silly smiles on your faces. If Jimin could do this and get through it, then so could you. You weren’t going to let Outdated Park beat you at that too.

“We will be fine.” You said determinately, a surge of courage and hopefulness running through you. Chuckling at your expression, Yoongi nodded.

“Yes we will, Red, yes we will.” You could get through this, especially if it was with Yoongi by your side, it was all worth it.

Main Masterlist

[sdv-player-9]

Sebastian

I was going to make a post about how sad it was that everyone wants to leave Pelican Town in Stardew Valley, but then I got caught up in reading Sebastian’s dialogue on his wiki page and I just-

You know what makes me really sad? Even more than everyone wanting to leave? Sebastian.

- “If I just disappeared would it really matter?”

- “What’s the point of going outside? I’ve already seen it all.”

- “Why does everyone like Maru so much? Sure, she's smart and friendly, but don't they realize it's all just an attention-grabbing scam? Sorry...”

- “I was this close to moping in bed the entire day. Kinda wish I had, now.”

- “Hey... It's hard to think of new things to talk about, sometimes. Even after you know someone. ...Sorry.”

I think he’s depressed. Like, how do you say those quotes and mean them and not have something hurting you inside?

Also these:

- “I was thinking... people are like skipping stones. Eventually we’re going to sink.”

- “I usually stay inside, but I do go to the beach now and then. Pretty much only when it's raining, though. For some reason, staring off into the bleak horizon makes me feel... I dunno. Like it's worthwhile to keep pushing on, I guess.”

- “Nothing surprises me anymore... nothing makes me laugh. Yeah, I know... I'm being a little dramatic.”

I’m starting a petition to add a new character who’s a therapist and has a room either in the clinic or in a new building. We could do with one of those.

But then I read further into the dialogue, because it’s mentioned quite a lot that Sebastian wants to move to a big city and work there and I was wondering if that was ever addressed, or if he just kind of lives with this guilt inside him that he hasn’t done what he wanted to with his life. And I found this (dialogue is from when he and player are married):

- “The older I get, the less I'm drawn to the city. It had a certain mystique to it, once. But it turns out that was just a romantic fantasy. The city's so busy, so full of people... I don't belong there. I'm a loner.”

And it makes me kinda sad that he does abandon his dream, but then (dialogue is from when he and player are married):

- “I did some work on the laptop today. I was actually brainstorming some ideas for a game I want to make. With your farming income, I can afford to do what I want with my life. It's pretty amazing. Thank you.”

And if you read his dialogue from after the player marries him (if you do) it’s just- it’s so sweet??? And he seems so happy??? And it just???

- “Living here with you is teaching me to come out of my shell a little bit. I think it's good for me.”

- “I couldn't sleep last night so I went for a night ride on the motorcycle. I need to stay independent, even though we're married. That's just how I am. I still love you, though.

- “Hey...want some coffee? I needed some...woke up early from a nightmare and I just couldn't fall back asleep.”

- “I'll just watch you from here. I enjoy watching you.”

- “This is so different from my old life, but I'm really starting to like it. I feel like I really belong here.”

- “I often felt unappreciated at home...but here I feel like I really belong. Thanks for making me feel welcome, [Player].”

- “Hey. I just hung out around the house, today. Nothing interesting... The view from our house is perfect. You can see the sun setting over Pelican Town from the front porch.”

- “I may be a reclusive guy, but I'm always happy when you're around.”

- “Hi, [Player]. Good to see you. It's comforting when you're around.”

- “Hey. I couldn't sleep last night so I took a walk to the caves. I found this ...want it? I just have trouble sleeping sometimes, it has nothing to do with you. I love you.”

And there are just so many more and it’s beautiful. He’s my favourite character. Go read all of his dialogue, even if you aren’t gonna marry him in the game.

I don’t know where I was going with this. Sebastian makes me sad.

-10 minute timeskip-

I went to try and find an image with one of his quotes to put at the end of this post and instead came across a bunch of Reddit posts about how awful he is and honestly they have a fair point ngl

- When married to the player, he keeps his frogs inside the house even if the player asks him not to

- Doesn’t consider Abigail one of his friends, because he has a crush on her

- Literally makes an effort not to get along with Demetrius and Maru, even though he’s had at least 10 and possibly 20 years to come to terms with this

- Apparently when you’re married he also just kinda vanishes on a Friday and also complains about mess a lot

However I then read a ton more people with good fair points that go against this so

- Keeps his frogs in his office. That’s fair enough. He can have his own stuff in his office

- Doesn’t consider Abigail a friend cause he isn’t sure if she’s into him, and it’s also okay to grow away from people you once wanted to be close to

- Demetrius does blatantly prefer Maru and rarely mentions Sebastian. It’s not Sebastians job only to fix his relationship with Demetrius. Demetrius could’ve done something, and so could Robin and Maru

They didn’t say anything about the final point but that’s cause it was from a different post

I also learned that everybody loves Elliot and there’s an even split between the people who like Shane and the people who don’t

In conclusion, I have no conclusion. All of the characters are flawed, which is good, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be problematic because some of them are.

Might switch who I’m trying to marry tho lmao

I did find this funny though:

[jeagerism]

on the tuesday that george begins to admit to himself that he feels differently about you, it's freezing.

the ac in your shared apartment has been off for weeks at that point, leaving the both of you to shuffle towards the living room earlier on in the day; wrapped in fluffy blankets normally kept on the middle shelf in the hall, torsos bundled up in hoodies—his some old one dream had sent him ages ago, yours one he'd let you borrow after seeing the way you'd shivered in the thin sweater you often inhabited.

george had decided to move out of his mom's house earlier that fall, after he'd endured just as much teasing from sapnap and dream as he could handle. he'd found an apartment easy—mostly thanks to the help of his two friends—but affording one on his own was the issue.

he'd eyed the bright red price marking on his monitor with disdain, and had immediately shut down any attempts dream had at paying for him. his teasing had always been annoying, but george also knew he'd done more than he could thank him for already; he'd traced his finger over the tiny ceramic elephant he kept on his desk.

george had nearly been at his wit's end when sapnap had suggested looking for a roommate. and it had seemed like a good idea; he'd be allowed to pick and choose who it was, analyze what type of person they'd be, if he wanted to share his space for the next year with that person.

which was how he'd met you.

of the few applications george had gotten—from an ad he'd spent hours pouring over, writing and rewriting until it was just right—he'd come back to yours the most. nothing much had stood out about the others, and even less about your own; you'd said you didn't make much mess, that you were still in college, so most nights were spent inside of your room studying.

the next day, he'd watched his phone ring against the counter of the painfully empty apartment, biting at the corner of his nails in nervousness. the thought of hanging up had crossed his mind just before you'd answered, a strange sort of crackle echoing throughout his spot in the kitchen as you let out a short, "hello?"

which was how you'd gotten here. three months later, the fall weather having tumbled it's way into cold, frigid nights and frustratingly windy days. george had spent so much time curled up on the corner of the couch—a couch you'd dragged him to buy on your fourth day here, something about the emptiness being saddening—that he's sure there's a permanent imprint of his form in the cushions. the heat in his room had stopped working the first week of winter; in some way, he thinks it had been a warning.

he'd been facing the television, back against the soft material of the cushions, when his shoulders had gotten strangely cold. a short walk over towards the air conditioning had confirmed his suspicions—the heater had broken, and even after waiting another hour to try again, it had remained a blank, glowing blue screen.

and now, he's here, pressed into the corner of the couch, material sinking under the weight of him trying his best to snuggle into any warmth the cushions may be hiding. you've been sat across from him since earlier that morning, feet tucked underneath you for any sort of heat, hands shoved into the hoodie he'd given you—whenever you move, which isn't very often due to conserving as much body heat as you can, he sees the stitched red logo of his channel against the grey fabric.

minutes into another rerun of some reality show that plays on the television, you speak. "it's cold." it's muffled, george notices, probably due to the way your nose is dug into the bunched material of the hoodie. he hums out an agreement, glancing sadly at his laptop resting atop the coffee table, mere inches away. he thinks of risking it, but as soon as he feels the biting cold against parts of his skin, all thoughts of this go out the window. editing could wait, even if he had to suffer through another shitty fight between two annoyingly loud cast members.

"like, unbearably cold." george likes you. you're a good friend, and you'd been willing to put up with his strange schedule from the moment you'd moved in. he'd never had to ask you to clean up any of your mess, and there were even times when you'd offered to take his turn at dishes when he'd had a lot on his plate. there was nothing to complain about when it came to you, so much so that he'd practically sung praises of you on late night calls with sapnap and dream.

george had even mentioned you on stream once, albeit accidentally, on an occasion where he'd been smiling from ear to ear at the fact that you'd brought him some sort of baked treat—"you look like you needed food, and i doubt you'd look away from your computer too much to eat a full meal"—but nonetheless.

it was with burning cheeks that he'd realised he'd never asked you if that was okay. to admit your presence to hundreds of thousands of people, people you didn't know and that didn't know you, but would obsess over any deal of information about you if it came from george's lips. but, you'd brushed it off with ease when he'd mentioned it, laughing with a soft, "it's perfectly fine, george. you tell them about a lot of your friends, don't you? i'm not any different." and after a beat, you'd stood from your chair, wood scuffing against tile, and had winked at him. "plus, georgenotfound talking about me? i should be flattered, huh?"

george is pretty sure he'd spent the rest of the night thinking about that; quackity had made fun of the way he'd kept zoning out, the way his jackbox answers had been considerably less funny that night.

so he did like you, even if he wasn't so sure what that meant. he knew he liked the way you played songs he liked on cleaning days. that he liked when you'd join him on the couch while he edited videos. bought the kind of soda he liked, even if you didn't. he thinks your spectacular, in the kind of way that makes him feel wide awake, like he's been shocked full of energy from knowing you. he thinks you look pretty in the morning time, stepping out the door for class; at night when you've been stressed over coursework.

the episode ends and another starts in the time it takes george to finally open his mouth to speak. "we could move closer." it's the first thing he's said since he'd asked if you'd wanted coffee earlier, voice as hoarse now from hours of being unused as it had been from the hands of sleep still holding onto him. his arms feel sore as he moved them out—he ignores the stinging cold that nips at his knuckles. a few seconds skip by of silence, his neck swarming with an uncomfortable sort of prickling.

"or no-"

"no! uh, no i mean, that's", george watches the couch dip with your knee dug into it, shuffling your body closer to his until you're fit against his side, pressing his arm against the back of the pillows, "that's good."

"yeah?" you're warm. the heat coming from your body spreads over him like a wildfire—he doesn't mind being burned. for the first time since he'd sent that angry email to your landlord, fueled with the desperate shivering that had taken on his body, he's glad that the heater had broken. he supposes this—george feels your arms wrap a little higher around him, head lean back against his shoulder—was worth the last week of freezing his ass off.

some building sense of courage towers in his chest, gathers in his throat, "hey, i want—"

and george watches as you look at him. what does he want? if he thinks about it, he wants to tell you that he thinks you're wonderful. that he likes that you let him use your shampoo when he runs out. that he remembered the night you'd watched all the austin powers movies with him because he'd been sad, even when you'd had school the next day. he wants to do just as much as you'd done for him in the three months he's known you, more than he could ever repay you for.

another part of him, a part that's selfish and wanting and probably a little too high off of the warmth he's been missing since he'd woken up—wants to kiss you.

he wants to.

so he does.

prompt taken from here : "the landlord still hasn’t repaired the heater in our apartment and we’re already wearing several layers of clothes, we need to find other ways to keep warm"

[bold-writing]

The One With Whiskey Eyes || 5 || Soft Tones in Which to Whisper

Warnings: Mentions of abuse.

Words: 3200+

Previous || Next

~5~

Barry made sure that Iris was wrapped tightly in his jacket when they left the café, her second cup of tea cradled between her hands to keep her palms warm. Her arms were through the sleeves this time, making her look absolutely tiny with how much she had to bunch it at the wrists to free her hands. Barry had also been able to slip her arm through his before she could stick it in her pocket, so she was pressed close to his side as they made their way in the direction of her apartment building.

 Barry and the others had walked this street many times, but they’d never realized that their soulmate was so close. She lived between where he lived and where Dr. Fletcher’s office was located, a comfortable walking distance between both. It made him wonder if that was the fate of the soulmark at work. Was she drawn to where he lived and instinctively moved close?

A particularly strong gust of wind nearly blew Iris’s hood back but Barry was sure to catch it before it could expose her now-dry hair. He’d already finished his tea at the previous intersection, throwing in into the overflowing garbage can that was near the street-lamp.

 “Thanks,” she stuttered, shivering against the cold that went down her neck. His coat definitely helped, however, so she wasn’t nearly as cold as she could have been. “I didn’t really think before I left my apartment. Fletcher had called me and when I found out you were there, and you were struggling as bad as me…”

 “I don’t hold it against you,” Barry assured. The smile that he offered made her heart flutter softly, clutching her cup a bit tighter between her hands.  “You were worried about me?”

 “Yea,” she admitted, nodding against the urge to duck her head down in a mixture of shame and embarrassment. “I hated that I knew you weren’t sleeping and it was because of me.” A strong shiver wracked through her body, causing her to tremble against him. “So I kinda ran out without a coat…”

 His smile remained endearing as he gently tugged her arm to draw her in closer, feeling when she rested her head on his bicep. “Well I’m touched,” he teased while she tipped her head enough that it was still resting on his arm but she could look up at him. “Are we close?” he asked calmly, turning to look around them. It was late enough that there was no one else out—even the road was empty of cars.

 “Yea, right through the intersection,” she answered while motioning ahead of them. “See the three story white brick building? I’m on the top floor, far right.”

 Barry looked over the building that she was pointing at. It wasn’t anything fancy or expensive looking. The building had probably been there for as long as the city was around—he was pretty sure the walls were more paint than brick at this point. However, he also knew from the short hours that he and Iris had been talking, she was simple and easily pleased. She didn’t want anything fancy or expensive, and comfort was found as long as it was her own space.

 “How long have you lived there?”

 Iris’s lips pursed as she quickly backtracked the time she had spent in that apartment. “Just over three years this summer. The previous place I was in was great, but the landlord kept raising my rent more and more and eventually I couldn’t afford it. So I left.”

 “How much are you paying for this place? If you don’t mind me asking.” Barry tapped the walk signal when they reached the intersection, able to see the building more clearly from the new vantage.

 “Eight-hundred, all inclusive,” she answered honestly, sounding slightly proud of herself. “I was almost at eleven-hundred at the previous place and it was almost the same size, so I’m rather happy with this one.” Barry was relieved to know that she wasn’t being too overcharged for her place, but he knew that small studio apartments were always more than they were really worth.

 He was definitely relieved to be where he was, especially since there was enough space for each of the alters to have a room of their own. That thought made him wonder about bringing Iris over to the Zoo sometime soon, but he knew that he should wait for her to meet some of the others first. She knew they existed and she seemed okay with the idea, but it was very different to know something in theory than be faced with it in reality.

 Once they had crossed the intersection to get to Iris’s building, Barry found himself growing more and more reluctant to let her go. “I live just down that way,” Barry started abruptly, motioning in the direction they had been heading all evening, passed Iris’s apartment. “It’s…a bit of a peculiar place to live, but we need a certain set-up for all of us, ya know?”

 “Peculiar?” Iris repeated as her face scrunched up faintly in thought. What exactly did peculiar entail?

 “Yea…” Barry sudden quieted, not wanting to bring it up. What kind of place to live was the old basement of a zoo? If not for Dennis that place probably wouldn’t even be considered sanitary or liveable. “I mean, it’s not any regular apartment, and we don’t really have enough money for a house that would fit everyone, so-”

 Iris interrupted his rambling softly with a call of his name, “Barry.” Her hand came to rest on his cheek, still warm from her tea even though the cool wind had been battling against her bare skin. “I’ve lived my whole life with a ‘peculiar’ set-up. Believe me, I’ve come to live with a very…open mind.”

 “I…really?” Barry breathed in relief, letting his shoulders relax as he leaned into her touch ever so gently. Iris smiled up at him at the action, her whiskey eyes looking like amber beneath the streetlight. Her thumb stroked against his cheek gently to further calm him, while she openly stared up at him with surprising adoration.

 Looking down at her now, he truly did want to do nothing more than protect her; to shield her from the world that they had been brought into—a world that was too much for Kevin. Wrapped in his large coat, her hand barely visible as it cradled her cup to her chest, the other continuing to caress his cheekbone, she looked so tiny and frail.

 “Do you-” Iris began but stopped suddenly, almost as though she was second-guessing herself. Shaking her head, an action that told him she was trying to dispel bad thoughts, she continued, “Would you like to come up? I think it’s time I was completely honest as well.”

 As though to stop her, Barry’s hand came up to clasp the one resting on his cheek and held her in place. “What do you mean, completely honest?”

 “I haven’t lied to you,” she assured, knowing how her words must have come across. “But…I assume Dr. Fletcher brought some things up that she knew about me and I feel I should be as open with you as you have with me. You told me the truth about the other identities—the other marks—and about Kevin and how you all came to be in order to keep him safe. I only want to return the favour, and be open with you in return.”

 Using the hand that Barry was holding, Iris turned and gently tugged him after her. Of course he could have stopped her if he was opposed to the idea, but in complete honesty he was just glad that they didn’t have to part ways just yet. So, instead, he let her lead him into the building. It was relieving to see that the front door was locked, Iris only releasing his hand to briefly turn the lock before she had reclaimed it and was guiding him to the stairs. Once they were in the stairwell, away from the doors of the other tenants, she explained quietly that the building didn’t have an elevator.

 In turn, he had commented that it was no wonder she was so skinny.

 She didn’t release his hand until they had arrived to her floor, pulling out her keys once more as she quietly opened the door to her own apartment. Slipping in as though trying to hide something, she looked mildly hesitant when she glanced back at him before she offered a shy smile and stepped aside.

 Having Barry enter her apartment only made the small studio look even tinier. He wasn’t overly tall, maybe bordering on six feet, but he was still much taller than her and he was more than twice as broad. Her apartment wasn’t too cold, but Iris almost immediately moved to turn on her little heater just to be extra certain. Once the faint hum of the heater filled the space, Iris turned to look over to Barry to gauge his reaction.

 His attention was away from her for the moment, looking around the small space. Upon entering, her bed was only a few feet away and the kitchen sat a few feet across from the foot of the bed, one step up to elevate it from the ‘bedroom’. The closet-alcove was to the right of the entrance—the kitchen to the left—and the door to the bathroom was on the opposite side of the bed on the wall the headboard was pressed against. Two small windows allowed her to look out onto the street they had just been on, sealed tight and always locked.

 “I know it’s not much—it’s absolutely tiny, really—but it’s home,” she mumbled while setting her cup onto the nearest counter and began to pull off Barry’s jacket.

 “It suits you,” he answered in complete honestly, looking away from her simple kitchen to offer her a smile instead. “Where I live may be bigger, but I do share it with twenty-two others, so…”

 Iris smiled in relief at his acceptance as her heart calmed. “Well, uhm…I don’t suppose you want another tea?” When Barry laughed and shook his head, Iris flushed slightly and nodded in agreement. She’d been prepared to make him anything if he asked for it—she wasn’t accustomed to having company over. “Well, you can get comfortable? Look around?” she offered, motioning to her sparse belongings. “I’ll just be a minute.”

 Turning into the bathroom and quickly shutting the door, Iris took a moment to calm herself.

 She’d met her soulmate.

 She’d gone back for him.

 And now he was standing in her apartment.

 Knowing that if she stopped she was going to overthink everything, Iris just turned away from the door and barely glanced at her reflection on her way into the room. She hadn’t properly wiped off her makeup from work so the black of her mascara and eyeliner had run down to make the shadows worse beneath her eyes, and her hair was an absolute mess from not having been brushed.

 Instead of bothering to make herself presentable after having been with him as she was for so many hours, Iris just wiped her fingers beneath her eyes to remove excess makeup, and pulled her long hair into a tail over her shoulder.

 Washing her hands and taking one brief moment to collect herself, Iris unlocked the door and stepped out. Barry was now standing in her kitchen as he looked at the wall of teas that she had been accumulating—majority of which were new from the past week of no sleep. He turned to look at her when he heard the door open and pointed to the display in front of him.

 “That’s a lot of tea,” he commented in awe, getting a laugh from Iris that she tried desperately to smother and only ended up snorting through her nose. That only made Barry laugh as he looked at her sheepish face endearingly.

 “I was hoping an herbal tea would help me sleep, so I went a bit overboard,” she admitted with a timid shrug, tugging on the hem of her large sweater. “You sure you don’t want one?” she asked again, however, he declined again. Instead, he politely excused himself to the washroom as Iris moved to the kitchen to take the kettle out of the sink from where she had dropped in when Fletcher called earlier.

 It had only been a few hours but somehow it felt like days since the setback she had in the shower, and since Fletcher had spooked her into dropping the kettle. It also brought to her attention that she hadn’t eaten dinner. However, the distraction of everything had her forgetting all about her hunger. The tea had at least filled her enough that her stomach wasn’t a bother.

 She had just placed her keys and cellphone on the counter when Barry stepped out of the washroom. Iris only gave a brief glance in her peripheral as he was stepping out, but she had to turn for a full look when she realized he had removed his gloves and beanie while he was in there. The sight of his closely buzzed hair, so close to being shaved that she figured it was probably just growing out. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting to be under the beanie, but somehow she couldn’t picture him with any other style than that.

 Barry noticed the stare she had on his head and reached up to self-consciously rub at it. The prickly texture was something he was still getting used to, having shaved it for so long. “Not the smartest hair-style for winter, huh?”

 His comment made Iris realize that she had been staring and guilt tugged at her gut. “Maybe not, but it suits you,” she assured with a smile. “And it’s a good thing you look good with a beanie.”

 The unsure posture that Barry was standing with disappeared with her comment, the easy-going smile coming back. “So, you wanted to be completely honest?” he prodded gently, returning their earlier conversation to the forefront. Iris was relieved that he had, otherwise she probably would have lost the nerve and tried to dance around the subject.

 Motioning for him to sit on the bed, which was the only place to sit since she had no table or chairs, Iris joined him once she had kicked off her shoes and crossed her legs under her. “I said earlier that I hadn’t finished school,” she began, getting an encouraging nod from Barry when he remembered that particular comment. She’d been scared when she’d said it, he realized, but he would never judge her for that. “It’s because I ran away from home when I was fifteen. I had to get away from my parents, so I just left.”

 Barry’s hands clenched against the gloves he was holding, causing the tendons to pop out against the backs of his palms.

 “I lived on the streets for a bit, saving all the money I could and working odd jobs. Most of the time I stayed in shelters. When I was eighteen, I worked really hard to get a permanent job so I could find a place to live. At first I worked as a hostess in a restaurant, but the people were so rude that I left. That’s when I applied for Pages of the World, and I’ve been there ever since.”

 Barry’s throat felt raw when he spoke up, “You didn’t have a home?” he forced out, hating how the words made his chest ache.

 Iris reached out to take his hands in hers gently while coaxing the death grip he had on his gloves to relax. “For two years, no, I had no home. But I learned a lot in that time. My parents taught me to love my marks, because nothing they could do would ever take them from me; and being out on the streets taught me to love and cherish the few things I had. That’s why a tiny apartment with one good coat and some overpriced tea leaves is all I really need.”

 He released his gloves to turn his hands over and take her hands within his, letting his large hands cradle the small, delicate fingers that had tenderly brushed along his skin.

 “You said you lived somewhere peculiar, so all of you could have space. I’ve shared bunks with girls younger than me, who ran from homes far worse than mine. I’ve slept in alleys before—and that did not always end well. But, again, I learned from it.”

 Thinking back to the time she had spent on the street, as brief as it may have been, made Iris’s eyes burn with tears as memories flooded her mind. She had good memories of people she had met and things she had accomplished, but just like with her parents there were always things to tarnish the good memories—but only if she let them. Some things stuck around—she was still afraid of entering a room with a door too wide open because of the fear that someone will force themselves in behind her, or that her marks would be seen and she’d be chased across town by the unmarked.

 Barry immediately caught on to the glistening of her eyes, instantly knowing that they were unshed tears. Releasing her hands to instead take her into his arms like he had in Fletcher’s building, Barry softly shushed her as he shuffled in close to her body. “It’s alright, Sweetheart, ain’t nothing gunna get you now. You’ve got us on your side, and we protect our own.”

 Iris released a laughing sob as she nodded against his shoulder, but remained leaned in close. Barry didn’t seem to mind what-so-ever and continued to hold her close as he rocked her from side to side, continuing to whisper assurances against her hair and into her ear. She shook faintly against his body as she leaned into him, her breath hot against the side of his neck as she tried to regulate her breathing to calm herself down.

 Breathing in Barry’s smell as she leaned against him to take in his warmth, Iris came to realize why so many people seemed to change entirely after they had met their soulmate. There was a shift in everything. The world faded back and they came to find the relaxation of having their destined other half there.

 Iris had never felt calmer or more welcome than when she was being held by Barry, and she was sure that when she met the other identities it would be the same. Although she assumed they would all offer her different types of comfort; they would each offer her what they were meant to give.

 Barry could feel when she began to relax again, her steady breaths offering her a reprieve as she leaned heavily against him. She felt as though she weighed nothing, so it was easy when Barry manoeuvred the two of them down to lay on the mattress with their heads hitting the soft pillows. Iris didn’t react immediately, but she soon curled into him until her head was tucked beneath his chin once more.

 “Will you stay?” she asked sleepily a few minutes later, lying nearly limp against him.

 Barry, who was feeling the same lure of sleep, gave a sleepy smile against her hair as he nodded. “Couldn’t chase me away, Sweetheart.”

 “Good,” she mumbled, sounding as though she was just barely on the cusp of awareness. “Because I already messed up once.”

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[ohkiyo]

characters: msby black jackals, reader, and schweiden adlers.

warnings: lots of cursing.

word count: 9.8k

a/n: I wanted to upload this next week, but this one have been sitting in my drafts for almost a month. So hope you all enjoyed this piece!

(c/n)- country

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        msby navigation || main navigation

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When everyone woke up that morning, you were all greeted by Coach Foster standing in the middle of the living room, hands on his hips with the team’s bus driver standing beside him. Wearing the standard black jackals' themed t-shirt and jacket.

“Today you’re going on a trip, go pack your bags” those were the only things Coach Foster said, straight to the point and no more opening speeches to begin it with.

Those words barely registered into everyone’s mind but the moment that their brain did manage to process it. They all dash back into their respective room, grab their suitcases, and stuff their essentials. Everyone was excited, a trip? Like just a normal getaway and not some sort of out of the city training? Hell yes!

They have been dying to have one, because of their new and improvised training regimens. It was rigorous, brutal, but overall worth it because results show it all.

Quickly, they ran downstairs, backpacks on their back, suitcases on their hand. Whilst they try to put on their shirt or shorts all the while sprinting towards the bus. Again, too excited about the trip.

“Where are we going?” Takato asks as you stood beside him, waiting for the driver to load the luggage into the bus’s compartment. Coach Foster remained silent and instead gave you both a smile in reply, patting both of your backs then pushing you towards the vehicle’s entrance.

Watching from the bus’s glass window as he waves you all goodbye, you and Takato shared a look. Not having any prior knowledge of your trip was a bit concerning on your parts as managers. However, Coach Foster would not arrange a trip that could potentially harm his players, so you hope that he will send a message when you arrive.

You hope.

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“Where are we?” they look from left to right, as they try to decipher which part of Japan they were dropped off to. Apparently, sleeping during the entire ride was a bad idea, because now, they were standing beside a dirt road.

In front of them were rows and rows of pine trees stretching as far as their eyes could see. Behind them, was a hill with a big wooden building seated on top and a footpath decorated with stone lamps on each side leading towards it.

“Please tell me that’s where we’re staying” all heads turn to Takato who also has no idea. It was clear to everyone that Coach Foster did not discuss this trip to any of the members, not to the managers nor to the captain himself. Because Shugo’s standing behind the group while scratching his head with an obvious question mark floating above it.

“Let’s go up there and find out” grabbing their bags, they walk up the stoned footpath, and towards the big wooden building. The hill thankfully was not very steep, they had packed quite a lot of clothing that carrying it uphill might become a problem.

“Wow”

The big wooden building turned out to be a guesthouse, a traditional guesthouse to be exact. It was big and very spacious; from the front porch, alone they could figure out that it was not just a house, but a mansion. From its lavish and intricate designs to the furniture and other decorations placed outside was an obvious sign.

“This is so cool!” Hinata exclaimed, taking a seat on a wooden swing bench, Bokuto joining him.

“There might be a caretaker we can talk to” Inunaki examined one of the potted plants displayed on the wooden deck. The leaves all green and healthy, its soil still wet, meaning someone was just here a while ago.

“Look at that beautiful home!” all heads turn to see the Adlers’ team reaching the peak of the hill, their bags in hand as they walk towards the open area in front of the house.

After noticing that they were not the only ones there, they pause in their tracks as they stared at each other. Their reactions a mix of surprise, confusion, and delight.

“Let me guess, Coach Suzaku surprise you when you woke up” Shugo watch as the rest of the Adlers members drops their bags on the wooden floor. Fukuro nodded his head, sitting down as he pulled his jacket closer to his body.

“Coach Foster too?”

“Yeah”

“I don’t get this” you look up at Takato as he stared at his phone, dialing Coach Foster’s number while his other hand scratch his head. “Are we supposed to share this trip with Schweiden?”

“I’m not sure” Takato answered, before he held up a finger, bringing his phone on his ear. Walking away from the group as he talks to the person on the other line.

You just stood there, wringing your fingers together as you watch them interact with each other. They may be rivals on the court, dead set on beating each other on volleyball, but once they are outside they actually get along quite well. Although, there is still an air of competitiveness floating around, what more could you expect from a bunch of pro athletes?

“Listen up everyone” Takato called out, pocketing his phone as he went back to gather with the group. “I just called Coach Foster and he said that this was prepared by both him and Coach Suzaku. He didn’t say anything else, other than we’ll be staying here for a week, to enjoy this trip, and to keep the damage to a minimum”

In the last part, the eyes of the older ones immediately turned to look at the troublesome younger players. If there was one thing they could all agree, it’s that their younger members were by far the most chaotic people they’ve met. After knowing each other since their high school years, they all have become so comfortable enough to show their true colors.

“Did he say who owns this mansion?” Tatsuto voiced out the question that was on everyone’s mind the moment they saw it. Surely, the house must have belonged to a close friend of their coach, or maybe another generous sponsor. It didn’t matter much, they just want to know the name of the owner.

Takato shook his head. “He didn’t say anything, but I’m assuming it’s a mutual friend of theirs”

They accepted that explanation and didn’t question any further, who were they to complain? Everything’s free, and their coach themselves said to enjoy, so they were going to enjoy their one-week break from their training.

They went inside the house, each one of them letting out a sound of amazement at the interior. The living room was the most spacious part of the house, in the middle was a sofa with two love seats of both sides and a coffee table in the middle.

In front of the sofa were a fireplace and a flat-screen TV installed on top of it. On both sides of the fireplace were two hallways leading to the deeper parts of the huge house, and on both sides of the living room were two sliding doors leading to the garden.

“There are nine bedrooms in total so we have to sleep by pair. (Y/n) gets to have a room of her own of course”

From behind Sakusa’s mask, Takato could see the way his lips just bend downward. Clearly not happy having to share a room with anyone, not totally convince that they are free of germs.

“There’s also a hot spring at the back area…” Takato trailed off as he stared at the text Coach Foster sent him.

“A hot spring?!” Bokuto and Hoshiumi jump from their seat in excitement, wide eyes staring expectantly at Takato for confirmation.

“Yes that’s what it says here”

“Whoever owns this place must be crazy rich” Inunaki mumbled as Adriah nodded beside him, agreeing to the libero’s words. Of course, they must be rich, only those with money can afford to build their own home a personal hot spring after all.

“Let’s just go to our own rooms and we’ll discuss the rest once we’ve settled”

They nodded their head, grabbing their bag and making their way towards the area where the bedrooms were located along with their preferred roommate. Each one choosing which room they like best, you walk past Hinata and Kageyama who were fighting with Atsumu and Hoshiumi for the bedroom with direct access to the gardens.

You just shook your head at their squabbling, adjusting your backpack on your shoulder. Finally choosing your room, you opened the door just a little bit to see if it’s occupied. It wasn’t, opening the door a little wider you gave a wave and a smile to Fukuro and Toshiro who walk past before you continue to drag your suitcase inside.

The room didn’t have much furniture in it aside from the wooden cabinet on the side, and a wooden table on the other. With another door for the bathroom. You pushed your suitcase towards the cabinet and opened it; the futon, blanket, and pillows you are going to use later were inside. Neatly arranged in a pile.

You quickly unpack your bag, placing your clothes inside the cabinet, and just as you’re stacking the last piece of shirt inside. You heard Bokuto’s laughter in the room beside yours, meaning he and Takato were in the room next door.

Once you were finished, you stood up and walk out of the room towards the kitchen to check if there were any groceries. Takato was already there going through the fridge, while Shugo and Fukuro were checking the cupboards.

“The good thing is we have groceries” Takato closed the fridge, looking over to Shugo and Fukuro who are still going through the rest of the cupboards. “They’ve just been brought in this morning by the caretaker, but I doubt it’ll last us a week”

“There are canned goods over here” Fukuro patted the four cupboards, he was just checking earlier.

“I saw like 3 packs of pasta here along with some spices” Shugo gestures to the remaining cabinets.

“We could buy some from the farmers here” you shrug your shoulders, leaning on the table.

Takato nodded his head. “We will look for anyone selling tomorrow, for now, let’s rest”

All three of you nodded your head at his words and left the kitchen. Walking back to your rooms to get that much-needed sleep, and shoo away the fatigue from that long travel.

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“Ah~ I could get used to this” Adriah closed his eyes in content, resting his arms on the edge of the pool. The warm water rippling around his body as it calms him and his tense muscles, the effects of the training from a few days ago still evident on his body.

“I could stay here all night” Toshiro rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck. Those familiar sounds of joints popping reaching his ears.

The hot springs were most definitely one of the best spots in the house, and everyone could agree to it. Just sitting on the pool’s rock floors, with warm water to soothe their bodies and the peacefulness of it all were just purely therapeutic.

“I might just build myself my own private hot spring if I get to feel this relax every day” Shugo states, as he runs a hand through his wet hair.

“Invite me sometimes when you do” Nicollas replied from beside him, eyes scanning the space they were currently in until they landed on Sakusa situated on the farthest side of the pool. With Ushijima accompanying him. “Kiyoomi, are you alright over there?”

Sakusa just nods his head in response before resuming his conversation with Ushijima, Nicollas was worried that he had made the Sakusa uncomfortable by persuading him to join everyone at the hot springs. When Takato had suggested that they would enjoy the hot spring together, Sakusa was the only one to deny and instead prefers he use their bedroom’s bath instead.

However, Nicollas wanted to spend time with all of them, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity after all. Their team may be rivals in sport but there’s nothing stopping him from making friends outside of it.

“Seeing you with your hair down is so weird, Kotaro” Tatsuto observes the multi-colored locks. “You look like a completely different person”

Bokuto laughs, his voice echoing throughout the huge bath. “I do?”

Takato chuckled, before adding. “The first time I saw you, I thought I was looking at a stranger”

“Gahahaha Kageyama you should’ve seen your face!” All three men hear Hinata’s loud laugh. Turning their heads, they saw him pointing at the setter after splashing his face with some water. His hair, sticking to his forehead. Kageyama glared at his former teammate, before placing his hand on top of Hinata’s head and pushing him down.

“Take that you idiot” Kageyama smirk watching as bubbles float around the area where Hinata was earlier. Removing his hand, Hinata shot up, splashing him again, pouting.

“Bakeyama! I could’ve died”

“Careful” Takato reminded as Hoshiumi push them both down into the water, cackling as he and Atsumu share a high five.

Takato let out a sigh before he remembers that their other manager was alone on the other side of the wooden divider. Moving a little closer to the wall, he gave it a few taps before he called out.

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“(Y/n)? are you okay over there?”

“I’m fine, Takato-san!” you replied before a shriek from the other side was heard, followed by Hinata and Hoshiumi’s laughter.

‘I wonder what they’re up to now?’

You thought as you try to listen to the commotion happening from the other side.

“Shoyo-kun, Korai-kun. Gimme back my towel!”

“Atsumu, you might wanna cover your junk”

A few rounds of laughter was heard, Atsumu screaming for Hinata and Hoshiumi to give back his towel before Takato spoke to you again. “You were so quiet; I thought something happened to you”

“I’m fine”

You rest your head on the edge of the pool, a warm towel over your eyes. Listening to the voices coming from the other side.

Flapping noises reach your ears, a hooting sound followed right after. You remove the towel, wanting to see what it is. There, at the top of the wooden wall was an owl, a barred owl to be exact. Looking down at you, its head cock sideward.

“Oh my” you slowly leaned forward, wanting to have a closer look at the creature. “Hello”

It let out another hoot as if responding to your greeting. You chuckled, this was the first time you have ever encounter an owl out in the wild, you have seen them in zoos or sanctuaries before, but in the wind? Today was a first.

“You look so beautiful” you continue to observe it a little more, it doesn’t seem to be bothered by your staring though. Whenever you would tilt your head to one side, it would mimic it. Whenever you spoke to it, it would give a hoot in response; you look like an idiot for talking to an animal.

You were thankful that it was just you over there. Although, you’re sure that the guys could hear you.

“Where are your friends?”

As if on cue, another one landed beside it, your eyes widened. Its familiar black and white feathers and the little horns at the top on its head reminding you of a certain someone.

“No way” you wanted to laugh aloud at the coincidence, a barred owl and a horned owl sitting side by side together. Watching you bathe, somehow this duo just reminds you of a certain duo as well, the ones you have spent your high school with.

“Why didn’t I bring my phone with me?” you muttered to yourself. You really wanted to take a picture of them and show it to Bokuto later, you were sure he was going to be ecstatic about it.

You watch as the horned owl moved closer, preening the barred owl’s feathers. You press your hands on your mouth to stop the loud squeal from leaving your lips. That was just so cute, are these two a couple? You were hoping they were.

“Best day ever” you sighed in content, watching as they jump around the wooden fence, flapping their wings occasionally. Not only did you wake to the news of going on a trip, but you also get to stay at a wonderful mansion as well, and you have two owls keep you company. If that’s not considered a great day, then I don’t know what is.

“Hm? Are you two leaving now?” their heads were turned towards the thick body of trees just outside of the wooden fence. Flapping their wings a few times, before they eventually flew away. Their bodies disappearing into the night.

“Bye, see you again” you wave, hearing one last hoot from them before it became quiet once again. Even the chatter from the other side had stopped.

Did they go back to their rooms already?

“(Y/n)? Have you gone loco?”

You giggled at Hinata’s question, his voice lace with genuine worry. You had not realized that they had stopped talking to one another and decided to listen to you instead.

“I’m alright Hinata”

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The next morning, you were awoken from your sleep by a series of knocks on your door. You turn around, pulling your blanket over your head, the knocking continued and it seemed like it would not stop.

You crawled over to the door and opened it. Atsumu’s grinning face greets you, you almost slammed it shut but a hand prevented you from doing that.

“Get up, we’re going on a run” Atsumu opened your door further, to reveal the rest of the monster generation waiting outside. You just stared at them, still half asleep, observing through sleepy eyes their attire. They are already changed into some track pants, shorts, shirts, jackets, and running shoes.

“Why?”

“For exercise (Y/n)!” Hoshiumi replied, a little too loud for your liking. You deadpan at them, a look on your face clearly saying. ‘Seriously?’

They seem to be determined though to get you to join them. Although it’s just Atsumu, Bokuto, Hinata, and Hoshiumi, the rest didn’t really care much. You let out a sigh.

“Alright, give me a few minutes”

“Great! See you out front!”

Then the door slammed shut, you rub your temples, staring at your futon longingly. You really wanted to get back to bed, but you were sure that if you do, they would probably come back and drag you out. You slip into a pair of track pants, sweater, and running shoes. Brushing your hair, you tied it into a ponytail, then spraying yourself some cologne before walking out into the front porch.

“I thought you went back to sleep” Takato laugh at the look on your face, waking up early was not exactly your forte. You would pretty much prefer to claim every second of sleep you could get. Now that the team was on break, he was sure you were hoping to sleep in. However, that does not seem to be the case today.

“Why am I doing this too?” you yawned, squinting your eyes a little. It was still a bit dark, the only source of light was from the lamps near the footpath and the light installed at the porch.

“Alright everyone stretches first!”

You copied their routine counting along with them. The warm-up exercises were slowly helping you dispel the sleepiness you were still feeling, your joints cracking with every bend of your limbs. When that was done, each one chose their jogging buddy before going down the footpath.

You joined along with Nicollas, Takato, and Oliver. Listening to them discuss family stuff.

“Is your wife going to be okay on her own, Takato?” Nicollas’ face twist in worry, having experienced the fear of having a pregnant wife alone at home. “She’s eight months along now, right?”

Takato nodded his head, as you fastened your pace a little. “She’s with her parents right now, so she’s fine. I also visit her during the weekends”

Nicollas hums before turning to Oliver. “You also visit your family as well right Oliver?”

“On the weekends I go home to them”

Nicollas let out a groan. “I envy you two; I haven’t seen my wife and son in six months. I miss them” he sniffled, as you stretch out your hand to pat his back in comfort. Going to another country for work has many cons, you get to leave your family behind, and not see or touch them for long periods of time.

You could imagine just how upset he must be, to not be able to see his family.

“How about you (Y/n)?” Oliver turns to you, as you look up at him. “I haven’t seen you visit your family before”

All three men turn to you as they waited for your reply, their pace steadily matching those who were in front. Just to make sure, the group stays together.

“My family migrated to (c/n) when I started college. So I can’t really visit them whenever”

“Oh (Y/n), you must really miss them huh?” Nicollas rest a hand on your head, sharing the same sentiment as you. Unable to be in close contact with their family.

“There are times where I just want my mom” you laugh, feeling embarrassed at the prospect of still relying on your mother even though you were already in your early twenties. “I just want to taste her cooking again”

All three men express their agreement at your words, also feeling the same. No matter how old they may be, there is still that longing of wanting to feel their mother’s love again.

“Now I’m also starting to miss my mom”

The four of you fell silent; now enjoying the scenery you are passing by, on your left and right were rows of rice field. The crops have grown quite well and ready for harvest, you may not have like it that you were woken up at 4 am but you were grateful in the least.

It was peaceful, the breath of fresh air, the spectacular view. You can’t experience something like this in the city.

“Hey look!” Bokuto held up his hand and pointed to the mountains, the sun slowly rising up from behind the two landmasses. Everyone stops in their tracks to admire the wonderful sight.

“Beautiful” Toshiro whispered, holding up his phone and snapping a few photos of the sun. Saving the picture for when he will upload it later on his socials.

The sun slowly moves out of its hiding spot, its rays gently covering the croplands with its warmth. Drying the morning dew that came from the previously cold night.

“I guess it’s time we go back” Shugo suggested and everyone started stretching their bodies once again. Preparing themselves for another long run.

“I’ll race you there Kageyama” Hinata jumps on his spot. The setter shot him a smirk, accepting his challenge as he cracks his neck.

“Woah, Woah. We’re jogging, not racing” Atsumu reminded them when he saw that they were serious. “No one’s racing anyone”

“Last one back to the house will have to eat a handful of jalapeños” Hoshiumi added, ignoring what Atsumu just said earlier.

“And where are you going to get these jalapeños?” Sakusa rolled his feet, both hands on his hips.

“I saw a bunch of them planted at the house’s backyard” Hoshiumi replied, preparing himself as he positioned his body.

“Alright, let’s do this!” They immediately dash away. Leaving Atsumu in the dust, coughing at the dirt that he accidentally inhaled.

“Tsum-Tsum! You better start running or else you’ll be eating those jalapeños later!” Atsumu curse under his breath before running after them, catching up in no time.

The rest of the members that were left behind just blink, watching as they quickly disappear from their line of sight. You let out a sigh, knowing well that you need to go after them to make sure those idiots don’t do anything stupid.

Even though Sakusa and Ushijima - the more responsible ones - are present. They also get swept away by challenges that they sometimes join in as well, and today was just an example.

“I’ll go after them” you run, mentally thanking your PE teacher for having you run laps around the track field almost every day. Because now, it had proven to be very useful.

“That girl’s a blessing, don’t you agree?” Tatsuto looks to them as they nodded their head. The black jackals’ members witnessing firsthand how (Y/n)’s inclusion in the team had helped them keep everyone under control.

They started making their way back home, going at their own pace. Passing by some of the residents who were now up and about their day. Some were on their way to check their crops, while others were on their way to go out into town.

Once they reach the house, they immediately went into the kitchen to see you already washing the rice. “Where are they?” Inunaki opens the fridge, taking a bottle of water and drinking it.

“Over there” you gestured to the open door leading towards the garden, they peek through the door just in time to see Hinata stuff his mouth with a handful of chili. The others watching him with interest as he chews the spicy plant.

“They were actually serious?” Adriah questioned in disbelief, watching as Kageyama did the same thing Hinata had done earlier. “I thought they were just joking”

“At this point, I’m not even surprised anymore”

They step aside as the two ran through the door and towards the fridge, frantically gulping down some cold water to help the pain from the spiciness.

“Sakusa, Ushijima. Why didn’t you two stop them?”

“We did try to stop them” Ushijima answered, watching as Hinata fans his mouth with his hand as he took in deep breaths. “But they refuse to listen”

“Something about their manly pride at risk if ever they don’t do it or whatever it was” Sakusa shrugs his shoulders before he and Ushijima went back to their shared room to change.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

“Is it this one?” Kageyama gestures to the river in front of him, looking over his shoulder as the rest slowly emerges from the canopy of trees.

“Yes, this is the one” Takato place the bucket on the stone covered ground, wiping the sweat running down his face. While they were eating breakfast earlier, Coach Foster sent another text saying that there was a river a few kilometers away from the mansion. With many fishes swimming by and that they can go there and catch some fresh fish if they want to.

Since half of them have never gone fishing before, mainly the younger ones. They collectively agreed that after breakfast they would go to the river, catch some fish, and maybe enjoy a little bit of nature.

“The water is so clear” you crouch down near the riverbank, running your hand through the cold water. The river’s current is not very fast so it was safe to go down there and cool down if ever the heat becomes too much.

“Alright, boys! Let’s catch some fish” Nicollas seems to be overly enthusiastic about this, the man looks so happy to be fishing.

There were not enough fishing rod for everyone, so some had decided to forego them and chose to catch the fish by hand instead. The group split into two, those with the fishing rods stayed in the same area while the rest moved a bit farther away.

“The mosquitos here are so unforgiving, sheesh” Inunaki hand landed on a particularly big mosquito on his arm. The insect squash in between his palm and wrist, with its blood, splattered on his skin.

“I have some insect repellent here in my bag” you sat down on one of the rocks, rummaging through your bag and pulling out two spray bottles of insect repellent. Giving one to Inunaki who started spraying the area around him, before giving it to Sakusa who quickly sprayed his body. Just the thought of insects and other disease-carrying pests landing on him or even just biting him makes his skin crawl.

“Ah Wakatoshi, you got something!” Ushijima grips the rod tighter as he pulled it back. The end bending down at the weight of a possible fish caught at the end of the line. With a flick of his arms, the fish finally jump out of the water, wiggling its tail as it grips the bait in its mouth.

“Oh~” it was a catfish, a big one about the size of one forearm. Ushijima drops the fish in the bucket you gave him as he took another bait from the can and swings the fishing rod back to the water.

The rest stared at their respective floaters, calmly floating above the water, still no signs of it attracting the fishes. They could see the silhouette from their spot, but somehow it seems like the fishes are not satisfied with a bait they offered.

“I think they don’t like it” Adriah muttered as he watches the fish swam past his rod and into the other end of the river. Towards the area when the rest were channeling their inner bear skills.

“Should we go join them? They seem to have caught a lot already” Toshiro pointed to where the rest were concentrating on catching some fishes. They watch as Hinata crouches down tongue struck out in concentration, hands ready, before it strikes fast into the water. Effectively catching a fish.

“Heiwajima-san, you got something” you tap on the libero’s shoulder as he immediately focuses his attention on his fishing rod. He stood up, grab the handle, and started pulling, excited for what it caught.

“The hell?” it was a clump of algae, with sticks sticking out on the sides. The fish that he hopes to be at the end of that line was nowhere to be found.

“The fish outsmarted you” Nicollas pats Toshiro’s back in consolation, as he too is yet to catch his own.

Meanwhile on the other end of the river, just like their other teammates. Some were blessed some were not.

“I mean, catching them wouldn’t be hard right?” Fukuro eyed the fish swimming around his feet. Slowly, he leaned down, before striking his hands into the water to catch the fish, unfortunately though, it swam away.

Shugo snorted, leaning on the rock to balance himself. “This isn’t some sort of survival show; catching one wouldn’t be that easy”

“Oh! Kotaro nice one!” they heard Tatsuto exclaimed, looking over to where they were. They saw Bokuto holding out a big fish with both hands, a wide grin on his face, proud of his catch.

“Good job! Korai, Shoyo!” Oliver’s voice followed, the two mentioned players holding their own fish, as they carefully wade through the water as you stood at the edge of the river. Holding out the bucket for them to drop the fish inside.

Fukuro shot Shugo a look. “You were saying?”

“Nevermind”

The two captains went back to whatever they were doing, determined to catch some fish.

“I think there’s a high chance we’ll catch some on the deeper parts Tobio-kun” Atsumu pointed to an area that was a bit darker than the rest of the river’s area. As he slowly walks over to it.

“Isn’t that a bit dangerous though Atsumu-san?” Kageyama followed behind the older man, as Atsumu waves his hand. Dismissing the younger player’s previous worry.

“Atsumu, Tobio be careful” Oliver called out from the side when he saw them going closer to the parts where there were a lot of rocks protruding.

“It’s fine, it’s fi- ack!” Atsumu stepped on a slippery rock, losing his footing as his body crash into the water. Disappearing into the dark pools.

“Atsumu-san?!” Kageyama stared wide-eyed to where Atsumu was just standing earlier. Atsumu had slipped on a much deeper area of the river, and he doesn’t really know what was down there.

Atsumu emerges, shaking his hair, running a hand on his face to wipe off the running water. “Great, now I’m wet”

He walks towards the shore, the water dripping off of his body and down on the ground.

“Told you to be careful” Inunaki handed him a towel, thankfully. You had prepared towels and extra clothes for everyone in case an accident like Atsumu’s would ever happen. Although the house isn’t too far away, it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared just in case.

“I feel like water went inside my ear” Atsumu mumbled, as you place the bag you brought with you in front of him. He crouches down, pulling out his spare shirt and shorts, before pulling his wet t-shirt over his head.

“Uh… Atsumu?” Toshiro stared at his back wide-eyed, waving your over then pointing at whatever he saw. A gasp leaving your lips.

“Yes? Heiwajima-san what is it?” Atsumu looks over his shoulder, by now Sakusa and Ushijima walk over. Staring at his back in a mix of disgust and fear.

“Miya, do you feel anything?” Atsumu’s eyebrows furrowed at Sakusa’s question.

“What?”

“Atsumu, touch your back” the setter followed Ushijima’s simple instruction; carefully he reaches behind his back, patting it before his hand landed over something slimy. His eyes widened, turning around and looking at them in shock.

“What the fuck was that?!”

His outburst caught the others' attention and went over to him.

“Atsumu-san, y-your back” Hinata stuttered in fear, watching as the animal clung on his teammates back. “There’s a leech on your back”

“Leeches actually” you corrected, shuddering.

“There’s more than one?!”

“Atsumu, hold still” Takato push him back down to sit on the ground, a Swiss knife on his hand.

“Get them off, get them off”

Nicollas and Toshiro went over to assist him. While those who were in the river earlier, immediately started checking their whole body in fear that they too had one.

“This might help” you pulled out a jar of salt from your bag and grab a handful of it before drizzling them on top of the leeches sucking on Atsumu’s back. Their screeches, reaching your ears as their hold on the skin loosened.

“Why do you have salt with you?” Toshiro asks, as you grab another handful and covered the one that Takato successfully removed, killing it.

“I actually don’t know” you laugh, covering the last one with salt, killing it. “I think I accidentally grabbed it earlier”

“Is it gone? Did you get them all?” Atsumu shakily lifts a hand, running it over his back. Letting out a sigh in relief.

“Anyone?” Takato looks to the others as they shook their head; thankfully, none of them was a victim.

“How did it feel Tsum-Tsum?” Bokuto crouches down beside him, as Atsumu shuddered, remembering how he could feel its tiny teeth sinking into his skin and sucking his blood.

“Horrible”

No one went back into the river after that and instead opted to switch using the fishing rod. They stayed there until the sun was high up, and the heat becomes too much for them, so they made their way back towards the house to prepare their food.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

“What are they doing?” Takato observes with curiosity the younger members of the team as they gather in the middle of the living room. With you standing in front and doing weird gestures.

“Charades, I think” from their spot on the deck, they watch with interest how you tried to act out the word you’ve gotten. They aren’t sure if this is a competition or not, the group wasn’t exactly split into teams.

You draw a ball on the air, and just as you were about to add another figure. They all collectively answered. “Volleyball!”

Shugo and Fukuro laugh at the exasperated look on your face.

“Do they have anything else on their head aside from volleyball?” Nicollas shook his head, chuckling. Taking a sip of his tea as he watches you act out the word again.

You draw another ball on the air, then drop it on the ground, and started doing a kicking motion with your foot.

“Soccer!” you shook your head. Bokuto crosses his arms, furrowing his eyebrows as he tries his hardest to guess what it is.

“It’s not soccer?” Ushijima asks as you shook your head at his question. Before doing the kicking motion with your feet again then gesturing to the whole living room area.

“What?”

You pointed to the view outside and made an x mark with your hands, then gestured to the whole living room and did an okay sign.

“So it’s soccer but indoors…?” Hinata trailed off, as you excitedly nodded your head and urge him to find the right word for it. “I don’t know”

“Futsal?” Sakusa added as you clap your hands at him, finally happy that you could move on to another word.

“What’s futsal?” both setters questioned as you took another piece of paper from the bowl you placed on the coffee table.

“It’s basically indoor soccer, but the rules are different. I’m not good with explanations but you can search it up once we go back” you pulled out the paper, and on it ‘little giant’ is written.

You stared at the paper for a few minutes. When you ask them earlier to write down random words on the pieces of paper you gave them, you didn’t expect their choices to be quite hard to act out.

You sighed then pointed at Hinata and Hoshiumi, and gestured to their whole body.

“Short?”

“Hey!” Hoshiumi kicks Atsumu on the leg as the setter glares at him in response.

You shook your head at the answer.

“Tiny?” you settled with that one then you pointed to Oliver. The tallest person within the group.

“Tall?”

“Big?”

“Bald?”

“Atsumu, I heard that!” Oliver’s voice boomed from the outer deck as Atsumu flinch. Not expecting him to hear it all.

“Giant?” you nodded your head at Hinata, before he immediately understood what the word was. “Tiny giant?... no little giant!”

“Yes”

You sat down on the floor, crossing your legs. “Let’s play another game, my hands and feet are tired”

“I think it’s best we all go to bed, that was enough brain exercise”

Everyone stood up, saying their good nights before going back to their own room.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

The next day you were once again woken up at an hour earlier than intended, not because someone was at your door. But because of that rooster crowing endlessly since 1 in the morning. You weren’t bothered by it a few hours ago, but now at this very moment, you want nothing more than wish for it to shut up. It’s so loud too, every time it crows a few more follows.

“These damn chickens” you sat upon your bed, grumbling. Your sleep ruined, listening to them flap their wings a few more times before letting out the signature cock-a-doodle-doo.

You got out of bed and went to the kitchen instead, a delicious cup of coffee now on your mind. You entered the said room and found Takato already sitting in the table reading a newspaper.

“Good morning” he greeted, that smile on his face had you wishing you were a morning person like him. You could do so much more when you’re up the moment the sun starts rising.

“Morning Takato-san” you took the kettle and filled it with water, before putting it on the stove and turning it on.

“Ah, Coach Foster sent me a text last night” he turned on his chair to look at you. “He said he had to cut our break short, the doctor wanted to do the medical check-up for this month a little early. So Coach we’ll be sending the bus to come get us tomorrow”

“Schweiden too?”

“Yes, Coach Suzaku doesn’t trust his team without anyone else to look after them”

You laugh, turning off the stove, and pouring hot water on the mug you prepared. “He doesn’t trust his players unsupervised?”

“No”

You started preparing your drink as Takato continues reading the newspaper, flipping through the pages every few minutes, whilst drinking his own cup of warm beverage. Sitting down, you stirred your coffee, your ears capturing the footsteps approaching the room you’re in.

“These mosquitos are killing me” Kageyama enters the kitchen, scratching his arm, his nails leaving traces of red marks as he rubs off the itch left by the insects. A thin layer of skin peeling off at how harsh he’s been rubbing, but he seemed unfazed by it though. All he wants was for the itch to disappear. “The rooster too, I can’t sleep with it so noisy”

“You too? I thought it was just me, the others don’t seem to mind though”

More bodies entered the kitchen. Yawning and rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

“I swear if I see that chicken I’m going to cook it” Hoshiumi grumbled, flopping down on the empty chair beside Takato. Resting his head on the table as he closes his eyes.

“Right? I can’t sleep with it cock-a-doodlin’ every few minutes”

Each one of them took an empty chair and sat down on it. Waiting for the water Kageyama was heating up so they could have their own cup of their preferred drink.

“I guess us leaving tomorrow is good news then”

Everyone perks up at that, now alert, properly awake, and their faces sporting questioning looks. “We are?”

Takato nods. “MSBY’s monthly check-up was rescheduled to an earlier date-“ he points to the Adler’s team members. “-and Coach Suzaku wants them home too. He said he doesn’t trust them alone”

As expected, the reactions were a mixture of disappointment and relief. Some still wanted to stay, while the others were already excited to go back home.

“Well, what are we going to do today?”

“Remember the old couple we met in one of our jogs?”

Everyone nods their head. “I saw them again yesterday, and they invited us to come to their farm to visit. It’s not too far from here”

“Sounds good”

With that, they prepared their breakfast settling on a light meal. Cleaned themselves up and walk to where the farm the located.

The farmland was wide, rows and rows of vegetables neatly planted side by side, fruit trees standing high and proud. Aside from that, they raise animals as well; pigs, chickens, fishes, and cows. All these crops and produce were either sold to whoever comes to visit their farm - or sent to the market.

“This is such a beautiful place Hisano-san, Jiro-san” Hisano –one of the owners- smiled, with her husband Jiro standing beside her.

“Thank you”

Everyone volunteered to help the couple around their farm, just so it would lessen the stress on their old body.

You stayed near the farmhouse, Hisano was about to collect the eggs from the chicken and she needed the extra hand. You, Bokuto, and Atsumu volunteered to go inside the coop to collect them all whilst Hisano stays outside to collect the baskets.

“Bokuto-san, careful. That hen doesn’t look too happy to see you” you warned, eyeing the hen that was already standing on her nest, feathers spread out in a threat, ready to defend her eggs if needed.

“It’ll be fine” Bokuto reassured you, slowly approaching the animal.

“(Y/n)’s right Bokkun, ya might wanna go to another one first” Atsumu moved to the deeper part of the coop. While you collect the eggs from the chicken that was just beside Bokuto’s.

Bokuto crouch down, the chicken following his movements. He stretches his hand to take the egg at the edge of the nest when the hen pecks his arm.

“Ow hey!”

“Told ya to go to another one” you heard Atsumu say from the back as you turn to Bokuto nursing the spot where the hen’s beak hit, the bruise glowing red.

You expected him to move to another one, but Bokuto being Bokuto, he can be very persistent at times. As expected, he stayed on his spot, having a staredown with the chicken.

“Okay here, listen” he started, eyes never leaving the animal. “I mean no harm I just want t- ow stop that!”

You sighed, shaking your head then standing up from your spot as you walk towards the door. Passing the basket towards Hisano, then grabbing another empty one. Bokuto still has not gathered at least one egg, and now he seems to be giving that chicken a lecture.

“Bokkun, you’ve gone nuts” Atsumu said as he walks past him, fortunately after 4 failed attempts. The chicken has had enough and just let him take the eggs. Bokuto happily collected them all, saying a little thank you, gave her a few pats on the head before giving the basket to Hisano waiting by the door.

You stood there dumbfounded, staring at the chicken that had a beef with Bokuto earlier. Now calm, and sleeping on her nests.

“What just happened?”

The three of you continued to collect the eggs, filling up basket after basket with the produce. Until only one hen was left, and she seems to be more aggressive than the one Bokuto dealt with earlier.

“Calm down I’m not gonna hurt ya”

You and Bokuto stood behind Atsumu, watching at the hen spread her feathers even wider. Angry eyes staring at his colored hair, Atsumu didn’t notice though, too focus on the eggs that were near his reach.

“What the – ow!” the chicken seems to dislike Atsumu’s hair and it now pecking it endlessly, the blond Miya shooing her away, but failed.

“Gah! (Y/n) you deal with this one!” Atsumu pushed you towards the hen as you instinctively held up your hands in defense. Afraid that it might start attacking you as well. You kneeled down, carefully you took the eggs, all the while making sure she doesn’t peck your eyes out.

“Thank you for the help” Hisano says as she accepts the last batch of eggs, arranging them in the tray. Then moving the trays inside the farmhouse so it could be pick up later.

You walk over to where Adriah and Sakusa were washing up the vegetables, a crate on their respective side of the sink filled with the freshly washed vegetables.

“Those cherry tomatoes look so yummy”

“Right? They’re tasty too” Adriah gave you one as you took a bite of it, popping one into his mouth as he chews on the fruit. Ushijima and Kageyama arrive with another batch of eggplants and cabbages. Placing the crates near the sink.

“Ushijima-san, Kageyama. Have you tried these?” You pointed to the tomatoes, Adriah pouring the last batches of tomatoes was washing.

Kageyama took a smaller one, chewing on it as he hums at the flavor. “It actually tastes nice”

“They are” Ushijima added.

“Don’t eat too much of those yet, they need to be sorted first. Some might have worms in them” Sakusa reminded as you both nodded your head. He took a few pieces of eggplants them putting them under the running water.

“(Y/n)!” Bokuto calls you, as you turn to where he and Atsumu were standing. Carrying a hook and some crates. “Hinata and the others needed help with the mangoes, can you come with us?”

You jog over to them and walk towards the area where the mangoes were planted.

“Those mangoes look really delicious” you stood beside Nicollas, looking up the tree while holding a crate. The mango fruits dangling by the branches were big, the tip was starting to ripen up, the perfect time to harvest them.

“They are aren’t they?” Nicollas watches as Hinata and Hoshiumi started climbing the tree. “Shoyo, Korai, careful.”

“Why are they climbin’? they could just use this instead” Atsumu tap the hook with a net strap on it. He and Bokuto standing in front of another mango tree just beside the one Hinata and Hoshiumi were climbing.

“I dunno ‘bout you ‘Tsum-Tsum, it looks kinda fun” Bokuto grabs onto a nearby branch and uses it to hoist himself up. Atsumu facepalmed, letting go of the hook and grabbing the crate instead.

Mango after mango was thrown at you as you try to catch them all, running left and right to make sure they wouldn't hit the ground. From the other tree, you could hear Bokuto shouting. "Nice receive!" to Atsumu when the setter would run to catch the mangoes he would accidentally throw a bit farther than intended.

"This isn't volleyball practice boys" Nicollas laughs before easily catching a mango Hinata dropped.

"Nice receive" you clap as the Brazilian man lets out another hearty laugh.

You look up to Hinata and Hoshiumi again, the two climbing to another branch, to get the rest of the fruit that was at the top.

“(Y/n), do you hear that?” Nicollas taps you on the shoulder as you look at him.

“Hear what?” you look around for anything he could mean, there wasn't anything out of the ordinary. There wasn't anyone else there either, just the 6 of you. The others were back near the farmhouse.

“It’s some sort of buzzing” He explained as you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. A buzzing? You look around the rows of mango trees, carefully observing each branch. Before you finally saw what he meant.

“Uh…” you tug on Nicollas’ shirt, he turned to you pointing at the big beehive at the end of the branch Hinata and Hoshiumi were standing at.

“Oh dear” his eyes widened, slowly the both of you started stepping backwards.

“Hinata get that one” Hoshiumi pointed to the mango just above Hinata, the orange-haired male stretch his arms. But because of his lack of height, it prevented him from reaching it.

“Oi don’t jump, you’ll fall” Hoshiumi warned when he saw Hinata crouch down.

“Don’t worry Hoshiumi-san. I’ll be fine” Hinata readied himself before he jumps up, wrapping his hand around the fruit, plucking it from the branch.

“Shoyo, don’t do that” Nicollas warned, pausing in his tracks. However, you were not staying there any longer, not when that beehive is so close to falling.

You saw Ushijima enters the opening to the mango plantation, about to assist in carrying the crates back to the farmhouse. “Is something wrong (Y/n)?”

You silently pointed to the beehive that was ready to fall, taking hold of his arm and pulling him away and back to the house.

“Should we tell them?” he asks you again, but you shook your head. Nicollas could deal with it.

“Where are the others?” Oliver notices that it was just you and Ushijima who came back.

“We’ll hear from them later” Oliver tilted his head at your answer before a scream from the distance reached his ears. He turns around to see Atsumu, Bokuto, Nicollas, Hoshiumi, and Hinata emerge from the trees, a swarm of bees chasing after them.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

“Korai-kun this is yer fault!” Atsumu screamed the white-haired male that was running beside him snaps his head to glare at the blond.

“Haaaah?! I wasn’t the only one up there you idiot!” Hoshiumi bites back. “Besides wasn’t it Hinata who thought that jumping on the branch was a bright idea?!”

“It was bright at first! I’m sorry!”

“Now, now. We must not point fingers” Nicollas tried to calm them down. “Although, this is Shoyo and Korai’s fault”

“Nicollas-san?!”

You all watch from the sideline as they round the pigpen. Hinata jumping over the fence, running across the inside of the pen before jumping out again.

“Should we help them?” Takato asks in worry, watching, as the bees were so close to reaching the five men.

“And risk getting stung? No way!” Inunaki vigorously shook his head and the others agreed with him.

“Miya-san jump in the fish pond!” you shouted, as they run towards the pond.

Atsumu’s head whips in your direction. “Are ya crazy?! There might be a leech in there!” he shouts, nearly tripping over a rock. “How come the bees aren’t chasing you?! Weren’t you with us earlier?!”

You shrug your shoulders in response. Not wanting to tell them how you know there was a beehive there in the first place.

“Jump in the fucking pond!” Tatsuto shouted.

“No!”

“Oi Miya, choose between the two, bees, or leeches?” Sakusa asks as he watches them run with mirth dancing in his eyes.

“Neither!”

“Just run, they’ll stop eventually!” Shugo offered, as they dash out of the farm and into the streets. Running away as far as they can.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

“Ah! Isso dói” Nicollas hissed as you apply a cold compress over the part where the bee had stung him. Offering him an Advil and a glass of water to help reduce the pain faster.

“Fucking bees” Hoshiumi grumbles as Hisano treats him, having the urge to scratch the itch it left. But restrains himself, or else it’ll become worse.

It took them at least 30 minutes before the bees finally stopped chasing after them, they did get stung and thankfully only once. It was like they had run a marathon, Atsumu’s legs were burning with how much he had to force himself to run faster. The heat wasn’t making it any easier for him either and the only thing he wants right now is to go home.

“When you get back home, go and visit a doctor just to make sure” Hisano gathers the materials used to treat them, and went back inside the house to put them away.

“Let’s go back” Atsumu says as he lays down on the wooden floor, brushing his hair away from his eyes.

“We will in a few minutes, I need to talk to Jiro-san and Hisano-san first” Takato stood up and went inside the house to talk to the couple, as they all waited outside enjoying the afternoon breeze.

They stayed there for a few minutes, feeling the cool air blowing past them as dark clouds start rolling in.

“Okay guys let’s go”

They stood up, dusting away the dirt that got into their pants. Waving goodbye to the couple, the group started their trek back to the guesthouse. So that they could finally get the rest, everyone had been wanting.

Just as they reach the foot of the hill where the house was situated, the rain unexpectedly dropped down. Drenching the dried out soil, and watering the wilting plants.

Later that evening as everyone was lounging around, having had finished packing their things. Fukuro approaches you, his hands behind his back.

“(Y/n)” he called out, you look up from the book you were reading to see him smiling at you. “I heard your birthday is in a month” he showed to you what he had been hiding behind his back. It was a white-colored gift bag with a little gold ribbon tied to the side. “Here you go, an advance gift from me”

He passed you the bag as you accepted the gift with gratitude, thanking the older man. The others now curious as to what it would be, placing it on your lap, you gently opened the bag. Hinata and Bokuto now glued to your side to see what is inside.

“No way” you gasp, as you pick up the signed album of your favorite band. The members’ signatures and their little messages catching your attention. “Hirugami-san thank you so much!”

He smiled at you ruffling your hair. “No problem kid” he went back to where he was seated moments ago. Leaving you to fangirl on your seat, Bokuto and Hinata joining you as they too were a fan of the band.

“I know what you’re planning” Shugo narrows his eyes at the Adlers captain, as Fukuto sat down on his spot among their little circle. “It’s not going to work”

Fukuro help up his hands in defense at Shugo’s accusations, feigning innocence. “Hey, I’m not planning anything”

“Just give it up; (Y/n) won’t leave us for Schweiden” Shugo shots Fukuro a smirk as the Adlers captain mirrored it with his own.

“We’ll see”

The rest could see the spark that flashed between their eyes, challenging each other to yet another unsolicited competition.

“Okay stop it you two, we have a game to play” Oliver calls them out as they snap out of it. Finally focusing back on the card game, they were playing a few minutes ago.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

The next morning, the bus of both teams had arrived early at around 8 am. They loaded their luggage into the vehicle, making sure nothing was left behind. All the bags and other souvenirs they had pick up from randomly walking around were stuffed inside and ready to be brought home.

“The next time we see each other again, it will be on court”

That was the last thing they said to one another before they piled into their respective bus. Situating in their chosen seat as the driver starts the engine, then driving back home.

"This was a fun trip" Shugo nestled himself in his chair, leaning on the window as he eyes the passing scenery. "Wouldn't mind going back here again"

"Yeah"

They stayed quiet after that, once again falling asleep through the whole ride.

"Wait guys, where's (Y/n)?" Inunaki's voice rang through the bus as their eyes snap open.

"What do you mean? She's over there" Bokuto pointed to where you were usually seated, but the spot was void of your presence. He stood up from his seat, looking around the empty seats but his eyes never found you.

"Was she still inside the house?" Hinata asks in worry. Takato's phone rings your name on the caller ID. He accepted the call and put you on speaker.

"(Y/n)!"

"I can't believe you guys left me behind!"

"We're sorry (Y/n), we thought you were inside the bus already. Where are you right now?" Takato says as Oliver tells the driver to turn around to get you.

"I'm in Schweiden's bus, I'm riding with them"

"Wait what?" Shugo stood up from his seat and motioned for Takato to give him the phone. "(Y/n), where are you?"

"I'm with Schweiden" Shugo heard shuffling from the other side as the phone was pass to another person.

"Shugo!" Fukuro's voice rang from the other side of the phone. "Thanks for the new manager!"

Shugo's eye twitches, as he listens to the man laugh. Cursing under his breath as the bus drives back. The driver going as fast as he can, all the while making sure to keep them from any accidents.

The next time you go on trips they really need to keep an eye on you, or else you will get snatched away.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

a/n: that charades part was so messed up, I haven’t played charades before guys. So I’m not exactly familiar with how it goes. hahaha

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 14: Nothing Personal

Summary: Steve confronts Fury about the Lemurian Star mission and the Director reveals just exactly what it is he’s been working on. However, when Fury is later gunned down in Steve’s apartment right in front of the Captain and Katie, the two are forced to run from the very people they’ve called colleagues and friends for years.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: Language! Violence.

A/N: I love this edit from @angrybirdcr​

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 13

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“You just can’t stop yourself from lying, can you?” Steve seethed as he crossed the floor of Fury’s office.

Nick didn’t even need to ask him what he was talking about. Without turning round the Director spoke calmly. “I didn’t lie. Agent Romanoff had a different mission than yours.”

“Which you didn’t feel obliged to share” Steve pressed, raising an eyebrow as the Director spun in his chair to face him.

“I’m not obliged to do anything” Fury replied simply, looking at him.

“Those hostages could’ve died, Nick.” Steve pressed, holding the man’s gaze.

“I sent the greatest soldier in history to make sure that didn’t happen.” Fury stated, and Steve could feel his temper rising even more. He hated the blasé attitude the Director was discussing the issue with, like it was simply something he wasn’t all that bothered about.

“Soldiers trust each other, that’s what makes it an army.” He said after a short pause. “Not a bunch of guys running around and shooting guns.”

He wasn’t expecting the response he got. Fury leaned forward, frowning as he levelled Steve with a look.

“The last time I trusted someone, I lost an eye.” Fury spoke, his tone steely. Steve cocked his head to one side, crossing his arms but maintaining his silence. “Look, I didn’t want you doing anything you weren’t comfortable with. Agent Romanoff is comfortable with everything.”

“I can’t lead a mission when the people I’m leading have missions of their own.” Steve pointed down at Fury’s desk, stressing his point.

“It’s called compartmentalization” Fury eyed him. “Nobody spills the secrets because nobody knows them all.” Steve snorted silently and gestured at Fury. “Except you.” Fury took a deep breath and levelled Steve with a look. “You’re wrong about me. I do share. I’m nice like that.” Steve frowned as Fury stood up and motioned for him to follow.

“Where are we going?” Steve’s frustration was evident on his tone.

“You’ll see.” Fury stepped inside the elevator. Steve followed. “Insight bay.”

A photo of Nick’s SHIELD ID flashed up on the screen, surrounded by a green light. Then Steve noticed his, but the light was red as the SHIELD computer spoke. “Captain Rogers does not have clearance for Project Insight.”

“Director override, Fury, Nicholas J.” Fury spoke, without missing a beat.

“Confirmed.”

The elevator started to moved downwards. Steve leaned against the rail which ran round the middle of the glass box and clasped his hands in front of him by his belt. Despite his initial annoyance, he had found himself beginning to understand what the Director was saying. SHIELD had so many secrets, many a matter of national security. It made no sense for everyone to know everything, it was a security risk, he got that. But it still irked him.

“You know, they used to play music.” Steve said, his tone softer as he broke the silence, making a joke at his own expense.

“Yeah. My grandfather operated one of these things for forty years.” Fury mused, somewhat nostalgic. “My granddad worked in a nice building, he got good tips. He’d walk home every night, roll of ones stuffed in his lunch bag. He’d say ‘hi’, people would say hi back. Time went on, neighbourhood got rougher. He’d say ‘hi’ they’d say, ‘Keep on steppin’. Granddad got to grippin’ that lunch bag a little tighter.”

The flash into Fury’s personal life surprised Steve somewhat. He cocked his head to one side and looked at the man. “Did he ever get mugged?”

“Every week some punk would say, “What’s in the bag?”

“What did he do?”

“He’d show ‘em. Bunch of crumpled ones and loaded point twenty-two Magnum.” Fury smirked “Granddad loved people. But he didn’t trust them very much.”

Steve had to smirk slightly, thinking that Fury sounded a hell of a lot like his grandpa. He looked down for a second, and when he looked up he was aware that they had now travelled down the side of the Triskellion and were descending further, underground even. As Steve looked around he realised he was in some sort of below building hangar, and he looked out of the glass, spotting three giant Helicarriers. His mouth fell open in surprise, his brow furrowing.

“Yeah, I know. They’re a little bit bigger than a point twenty-two.” Fury remarked.

Eventually the elevator stopped and Fury stepped out, Steve hot on his tail as he watched people bustling around the hangar shouting, carrying things, fixing things. The helicarriers were bigger than the one they’d used during the Chitauri invasion, each being able to house at least twenty Quinjets.

“This is Project Insight.” Fury explained as he led Steve across the floor of the hangar. “Three next generation Helicarriers synced to a network of targeting satellites.”

And then Steve understood. “Launched from the Lemurian Star.”

“Once we get them in the air they never need to come down. Continuous suborbital flight courtesy of our new repulsor engines.” Fury stopped underneath one.

“Stark?” Steve asked, frowning.

“Well, he had a few suggestions once he got an up close look at our old turbines.” Fury nodded, as they continued. “But don’t worry, that’s not something Nova is keeping from you.”

“I wasn’t” Steve said honestly, as he looked up and around the hangar. “I trust my girl.”

Fury looked at him before he turned his attention back to the matter in hand and pointed up again “These new long range precision guns can eliminate a thousand hostiles a minute. The satellites can read a terrorist’s DNA before he steps outside his spidy hole. We gonna neutralize a lot of threats before they even happen.”

Steve crossed his arms. “I thought the punishment usually came after the crime.”

“We can’t afford to wait that long.”

Steve could feel the nerve twitching in his jaw. “Who’s ‘we’?”

“After New York, I convinced the World Security Council we needed a quantum surge in threat analysis. For once we’re way ahead of the curve”

“By holding a gun at everyone on Earth and calling it protection?” Steve looked at the director, frowning. He didn’t like this. It smacked of something HYDRA would do.

Fury picked up on his tone and he looked at Steve, arching an eyebrow. “You know, I read those SSR files. Greatest generation? You guys did some nasty stuff.”

Don’t I know it? Steve thought to himself as he took a deep breath. “Yeah, we compromised. Sometimes in ways that made us not sleep so well. But we did it so the people could be free.” He turned and pointed at the helicarriers before looking at Fury “This isn’t freedom, this is fear.”

“SHIELD takes the world as it is, not as we’d like it to be.” Fury stated simply. “It’s getting damn near past time for you to get with that program, Cap”

Steve shook his head. “Don’t hold your breath.” And with that he left.

He changed quickly, eager to put as much distance between him and SHIELD as possible for the rest of the day. After a short conversation with Rumlow about a mission report, he was on his bike and heading for Katie’s apartment, his mind whirling. What was Fury playing at? This wasn’t what he signed up for, at all. It felt so far removed from what he had joined the army to do, to keep people safe, free. Had he really changed that much? He felt a sudden pang for his Howling Commandoes, for Bucky, for Peggy, for Colonel Philips, for all those damned missions which had been simple- destroy HYDRA before they destroyed you.

Despite the fact he had woken up that morning and felt so happy with his girl being there, he couldn’t help but wish life was as simple as it had been back then.

*****

Katie’s morning had been far more productive. She had looked at a couple of transcript extracts her editor had selected. She had to admit, the guy had a good eye for a future blockbuster, and this one she particularly liked. After discussions, they settled on an initial run of two hundred hard copy of the books to be sold online, along with a downloadable kindle version, and if they went they would review how many more we needed.

Pleased with her mornings work and having cleared her diary for the afternoon, she had lunch in the kitchen and had just finished when she heard the elevator door open. She headed into the main area of her apartment to greet Steve, taking a deep breath as she noticed how drained he looked.

“Dare I ask how it went?”

His response was a sigh as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a hug, simply wanting to feel her close.

“That good huh?” She squeezed him back gently before she pulled away and headed towards the kitchen, him following behind her.

“Debrief was fine. Fury, however, went on about compartmentalisation, the usual crap.” Steve sighed, running his hand over his face, smiling softly to himself when he saw she was gathering stuff out of the fridge to make him a sandwich “And then shared something I really wish he hadn’t.”

“Like what?” she asked, throwing some turkey and mayo onto a sub. “Ever heard of Operation Insight?” Steve looked at her, even though he knew the answer. There’s no way she would have and not told him.

“No?” She handed him the plate containing his sandwich.

“Well apparently your brother has. Thanks.” He took the plate from her sat at the breakfast bar taking a bite of his food. He swallowed and then continued “Three huge hellicarriers that are basically designed to go up in the air and never come down based on Tony’s arc reactor tech. Programmed to monitor potential threats and wipe them out before they get chance to do anything.” She frowned, settling on the stool next to him. “And Fury has sanctioned this?”

Steve nodded, taking another bite of his food. “I don’t like it. Like I said to him, punishment normally comes after the crime.”

Katie could see he was really struggling with this and that his faith in SHIELD was running very, very thin. A lot of what the Agency did was political, not just about keeping people safe. She’d tried to explain that the lines were a lot more blurred than back in the 40s, but still had to admit she was kind of with him. As she pondered for a moment, Steve could see the cogs whirring in her brain, the slight v shape crease that always formed in the middle of her eyes when she was thinking was present. Steve didn’t blame her, it had thrown him too and he’d had the full explanation. The hangar had been huge, and there were enough people in there to make him realise that a LOT of people knew about it. What he didn’t know was who on his immediate team knew about it.

“I just wanna know who I can trust” He sighed, looking at Katie as she reached out gently, touching his cheek.

“I know, Soldier.” she said, softly before she shook her head. “Okay, no more talk about SHIELD or hellicarriers, or whatever.” She moved to pick up her soda. “What do you want to for the rest of the afternoon?”

Steve wanted to go to the Smithsonian. He’d been thinking about it since they had emailed him to invite him to open the exhibit on him, which he had politely declined. But he was curious to see what it was like, curious and also eager, after today, to be reminded of a time when he worked with people he knew inside out, people that he would trust with his life. And he was keen to share that with his girl, the woman who had months ago before they even started dating, been the one to help him pick what the museum would display.

“You know, we’ve still not been to the Smithsonian since they opened the exhibit.” He shruged, hoping his tone was casual enough to make it sound like he hadn’t been thinking about it enough. He failed though, smiling as Katie looked at him, arching an eyebrow.

Busted.

“Call it curiosity.” He shrugged.

“You know what curiosity did don’t you?” Katie quipped back, her eyes flashing playfully.

“What?”

She grinned as she delivered the punchline “Killed the Cap.”

*****

“A symbol to the nation. A hero to the world. The story of Captain America is one of honour, bravery and sacrifice,” the narrator at the Smithsonian museum said as we entered the exhibit.

Steve paused to pull the collar of his blue jacket up a little further, a gesture that, along with the cap that was pulled down over his face, he hoped would prevent him from being recognised as they made their way to the start of the pieces.

"Denied enlistment due to poor health, Steven Rogers was chosen for a program unique in the annals of American warfare. One that would transform him into the world’s first super soldier,” the Narrator continued. Steve paused to look at the display to his right when Katie gently nudged him.

“Think you’ve been rumbled.”

Steve looked down at her, and then followed her gaze as she looked to her left at a small boy dressed in a light blue T-shirt adorned with the design of his shield who was watching the pair of them, his eyes growing wide. Steve smiled, put a finger against his mouth to indicate for him to keep quiet. The boy nodded and then turned, running back off to find his mum.

Without speaking Steve took her hand and led her over to the part of the exhibit that had an older looking motorcycle on a platform and some black and white footage playing beside it. The footage was of him in his older Captain America uniform, also currently on display, running through a battlefield.

“In this rare footage, everyone’s favourite war hero, Captain America…”

He didn’t stop to hear the rest, he could remember that mission by heart. It had been on the outskirts of Toulouse, liberating another HYDRA prison camp. Katie allowed herself to be led by him, this was his moment after all. They slowly walked to a display of mannequins dressed in his original suit, plus those of the Howling Commandos, which had been donated by their families. His eyes lingered on Bucky’s for a second and he took a deep breath.

“Battle tested, Captain America and his Howling Commandos quickly earned their stripes. Their mission, taking down HYDRA, the Nazi rogue science division,”

Katie looked at the uniforms, a smile on her face. She had only seen photos of Steve’s war suit, never seen it in person and it intrigued her. More so because this was something that her dad had made, something physical he had touched. She felt a tug on her hand again, and she looked up to see that she was being led to a section dedicated to Bucky. The familiar (albeit again, only from photos), handsome face of his best friend looked back at them as they wandered over to read what it said in more detail.

“Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers were inseparable on both school yard and battlefield. Barnes is the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of his country…”

The narration didn’t cover half the text on the black, glass screen and in Katie’s opinion it wasn’t a particularly good tribute to a man who had lost his life in such tragic circumstances. She read the rest of the text as Steve’s eyes skated over it, reading, despite the fact he knew it all. He wished he could have saved him, he really did. He’d loved him to have been able to meet Katie. But then, he wouldn’t have anyway. As he would have most likely been dead now. Or what’s to say things may or may not have ended up differently. Would Buck have been on the Valkyrie with him?

He watched the black and white footage playing, where the two of them were talking and then laughing about something and he felt the sadness hit his chest again. And as if she sensed it too, Katie gripped his hand a little bit tighter and lay her head against his arm, her weight giving him something to anchor himself too, and he was grateful for it.

They carried on walking and then they found there was a small cinema area a bit further round the corner playing footage and interviews. Steve paused for a second and then looked at Katie, the question stayed silent. She nodded and together they walked in, taking a seat on one of the benches. There was a bit of introduction footage, and then a familiar face appeared on the screen.

Besides him Katie took a deep breath and whispered a single word “Dad…” and he automatically dropped a hand to her knee, where she placed hers on top of his as the two of them watched her father an animatedly talking to the camera.

“Rogers was different” Howard spoke, smiling, the caption on the screen telling him the footage had been filmed in 1953. “He was constantly striving to do the right thing, with no fear or care for how it would affect him. He, err, when we dropped him behind enemy lines we had no idea if we would see him again. I narrowly escaped myself, the machine guns nearly took our aircraft down but without thought to how he would get back, he told us to leave him behind. When they declared him missing in action the entire company was devastated but, lo and behold… well they can’t keep a good man down.”  Howard paused and then looked down and back up at the camera “I can only hope that if I’m graced with Children, they grow up to be half as driven as he was to do the right thing…”

As Katie looked down at her feet, a stray tear fell down her cheek. Seeing her dad there like that was raw. She knew that Tony felt the loss of their parents far more than she did, she had only been seven after all when they had died and Tony had been her father, if you will, for far longer than her actual dad had. But still, seeing him in front of her so candidly, talking about his hopes for his future children, made something in her chest tighten and she couldn’t help but feel sadness at the fact she never got the chance to really know him. Steve gently squeezed her knee, but then as they looked back up at the screen it was his turn to still as someone he recognised extremely well, her face painted into his memory for life, entered the screen and began speaking, also in 1953. 

"That was a difficult winter. A blizzard had trapped half our battalion behind the German line. Steve, Captain Rogers, he fought his way through a HYDRA blockade that had pinned our allies down for months.” Peggy Carter stumbled slightly through the interview. “He saved over a thousand men, including the man who would become my husband as it turned out. Even after he died, Steve was still changing my life,” And despite the fact that she smiles slightly at the end of this line, it’s clear to see that talking about Steve affected her a lot.

Katie leaned against him and with a breath he lay his head on top of hers. “We haven’t seen her for a while…” she whispered as the video finished. “Shall we go on the way home?” He gave a soft chuckle and dropped a kiss to the crown of her head.

“You read my mind.”

*******

Peggy was pleased to see them, as always when she was having a good day. They both greeted her and after a few pleasantries they told her about their trip to the Smithsonian. Peggy smiled, informing them that she remembered the interview, like it was yesterday, apparently the man interviewing her had been an “utter rogue”, but she didn’t elaborate on what that meant further than saying he was worse than Barnes, which made Steve laugh.  They chatted a little about her time as Director at SHIELD before she trailed off with a sigh as she noticed that Steve was uncharacteristically quiet. After a little gentle coaxing from her and Katie he told her what was on his mind.

“My whole life I’ve just wanted to do what was right, I guess I’m not sure what that is anymore.” He paused for a moment, thinking of how to voice his worries about SHIELD “And I thought I could just throw myself back in and follow orders, it’s just not the same.”

Peggy chuckled as she rolled her eyes and looked at Katie. “He’s always so dramatic.”

Katie let out a small laugh, nodding her agreement. “Tell me about it!”

Steve shook his head, a smile on his face as he raised his eyebrows slightly and looked away as Peggy continued to speak.

“Look you saved the world, we rather mucked it up.”

“No you didn’t. You know, knowing that you helped found SHIELD is half the reason I stay.”

“And the other half being?” Her eyes strayed to Katie who smiled, looking down and then up at Steve as he caught her eye, his hand resting on her knee.

“I quit remember?” Katie reminded her.

Peggy smiled “Indeed, a woman with principles. That I can get on board with. ”Katie gave a little smile as Peggy continued. “Look, the world has changed and none of us can go back.” She spoke softly. “All we can do is our best, and sometimes the best that we can do is to start over.“

At that she started to cough. Steve quickly picked up a glass of water from the table and rounded the back of the chair Katie was sitting in to try and hand her the glass. 

"Peg?” He held the glass out as her coughing subsided and she took a sip. Once she had finished she looked up and stared at Steve as if she was seeing a ghost

“Steve?” Peggy breathed out in an amazed yet broken voice.

“Yeah,” Steve whispered, his heart sinking as he recognised the look in her face. Her memory had gone, again.

“You’re alive! You, you came, you came back,” Peggy whimpered. Tears were gathering in her eyes at this point as she tried to hold them back and Steve was struggling to do the same with his own. One of the smartest, nicest, bravest women he had ever met was being betrayed by an illness that was literally rotting her brain. It was cruel, and every time she did this, they went through the same routine.

“Yeah, Peggy.” Steve responded forcing a smile onto his face as Katie squeezed his hand gently, standing up so he could take the chair next to Peggy.

“It’s been so long. So long,” Peggy started to cry, giving up on holding back her tears.

“I’ll leave you with her.” Katie spoke softly as she gently touched Steve’s shoulder. His hand briefly reached up to lay over hers before he leaned over to take Peggy’s.

“Well, I couldn’t leave you.” He forced himself to smile. “Not when you still owe me a dance.”

Normally that calmed the old lady down, but not today. She was becoming more and more confused and in the end he had to press the call button.

“Again?” The nurse who attended asked softly, and Steve simply nodded.

“I’ll fetch the doctor.”

Outside Katie took a deep breath and headed towards her car. Ex partners could always be an issue in relationships but this was something else, something completely different. She opened the passenger side to the car and sat side on in the seat, door open, legs dangling out. She felt sorry for Peggy, she really did, and her heart ached for Steve. It can’t be easy seeing the woman he once loved, and probably still did in some way, fading like that in front of your eyes.

She ran her hand over her face, rubbing at her eyes slightly and waited as she watched various people coming and going out of the main doors of the hospital. It wasn’t that long before a familiar figure appeared, a flash of white T-shirt standing out against his dark navy jacket and equally dark jeans as he walked towards her, hands in his pockets. She stood up, not saying a word as she wrapped her arms around him and he buried his face into the nook of her shoulder and neck, his safe place, his hands gently resting on her hips as he breathed out a sigh.

“Is she okay?” she asked gently. “Yeah they sedated her.” He said as he pulled away.

“I’m so sorry Steve.”

“What for?” “Peggy…it’s so unfair.” “Yeah…” He replied simply. And it was. He wished things could be different, that Peggy wasn’t ill. That she could be home, with her family, living out the last years of her life with the dignity she had lived the rest of it. She deserved more. He looked over the car roof across the street and watched for a second, everyone milling about their business, getting on with their lives. Like he was, and whilst he wished things had been different for Peggy, he suddenly found himself thinking and wondering if he would change anything if he could.

He felt Katie still in front of him, reacting to the fact he himself had changed posture, and as he looked down at her he was suddenly struck with the answer to his question. Despite everything, despite his sudden feelings of nostalgia sparked by the events of the last twenty hours or so, no he wouldn’t. Because whatever had happened, every action, every decision, it had led him to the girl now in his arms, and he loved her so fucking much it hurt. Yeah he had loved Peggy, he still did in some ways, but it was nothing compared to this. Nothing.

He reached out and took Katie’s hands, pulling up her arms so they were round his neck, pulling her closer to him as his own hands joined at the bottom of her back

“I love you.” He said gently, needing her to understand, to believe him. “My best girl.”

“I hope I’m your only girl, Rogers.”  She sassed back with a sniff, and he smiled softly, happy that she understood.

“How about we head back to mine and not leave the flat for the entire day tomorrow?” Steve looked down at her, the idea suddenly coming to him and her face lit up. Katie loved lazy days. It was rare Steve was in the mood for them, his incessant energy normally meant he had to be doing something. But on the odd time he agreed, it usually involved them staying in bed till about midday, then watching old movies on the TV under a blanket on the couch, maybe a bit of fooling around and then calling a take out before retreating back to bed. Right now that sounded like a damned fine idea. “Can you clear your diary?”

“Consider it cleared.”

“I just wanna make one quick stop on the way home” He suggested, his journey of contemplation was leading him to one more place. He glanced at his watch before planting a kiss on her lips as she looked at him questioningly. “Thought we could pay our jogging friend a visit.”

********

“Look who it is. The running man and his pretty girl.” Sam joked slightly as he came over to the doorway where Katie and Steve were stood.

“Hey.” Katie smiled as he dropped a kiss onto her cheek.

“Caught the last few minutes. It’s pretty intense,” Steve commented as Sam shook his hand.

“Yeah, brother, we all got the same problems. Guilt, regret,” Sam shrugged.  As his sentence went on his voice got more serious and softer.

“Have you lost someone?” Steve asked, perceptive as ever. Katie mentally cursed herself for not filling him in fully, but Sam didn’t seem too bothered to talk about it. He nodded gently.

“My wingman, Riley. Fly in the night mission. A standard PJ rescue op, nothing we hadn’t done a thousand times before, till an RPG knock Riley’s dumb ass out of the sky. Nothing I could do. It’s like I was up there just to watch,” Sam paused to cross his arms over his chest, his posture slightly tense. “After that, I had really hard time finding a reason for being over there, you know?”

“But you’re happy now, back in the world?” Steve asked

“Hey, the number of people giving me orders is down to about zero. So, hell, yeah,” Sam joked, loosening up slightly, before getting a bit serious, “You thinking about getting out?”

“No.” Steve replied quickly before he took a breath. “I don’t know. To be honest, I don’t know what I would do with myself if I did.”

“Ultimate fighting?” Sam shrugged and Steve laughed as Katie snorted.  “It’s just a great idea off the top of my head. But seriously, you could do whatever you want to do. What makes you happy?”

Steve turned his head to look at Katie, an unconscious movement, smiling gently as he shrugged. “I dunno…”

“Oh I think you do.” Sam said, smirking slightly as Steve placed his hand on the small of his girl’s back.

“Oh, stop by the front desk on your way out,” Katie turned to Sam, smirking, and he raised an eyebrow in question,

“We asked for you by name.” Steve clarified.

“She seemed thoroughly impressed.” Katie finished. Both of Sam’s eyebrows rose at that and he looked down the hallway towards where the front desk was.

“You two are the best.” A smile stretching across his face as he began to turn to head down the hall. “Stop by anytime.”

“No problem.” Steve grinned in amusement as Sam jogged his way down the hall.

It was gone eight by the time they got home, having made a pit stop for a beer on the way. Steve held the door open for Katie, and she stepped into the apartment building and started to climb the stairs in front of him, giving him a quite pleasing view of her ass as her hips swayed side to side in front of him.

“Sam’s right you know.” She continued their discussion from the bar. “And so is Peggy.”

“What about?”

“If you wanted to get out you could do, start over.”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t know what I want, but spending the rest of my life playing janitor for Fury is not it.”

“I can write you a resignation note.” She grinned and Steve chuckled slightly and then took a deep breath.

“You know, it’s funny when I think about it. Us, stuff, what we’ve done and how far we’ve come in a year.”

“You’re saying it like it’s a bad thing.” She teased as she stepped onto his landing.

“No, that’s not what I mean at all.”  He took a deep breath as she headed towards his door and turned to face him “You know, I’ve never really talked to anyone or shown them about my past in detail or introduced anyone to Peggy bar you.”

“Well I am your girlfriend.” She shrugged, holding onto the hand that wasn’t digging into his jeans pocket to fish out his keys.  “Your best girl.” At that he smiled. “So you should be able to talk to me about anything.”

“I know, I’m not explaining myself very well.”  He remarked, finally succeeding in obtaining his keys. And he wasn’t. He was trying to tell her that he couldn’t imagine his life without her, that he wanted her to share his everything, including his home.

“Spit it out Rogers.” She teased as he slid the key into the lock.

He took a deep breath. “Coming home last night and you being there…and then this morning…it was perfect, Doll, and I want that all the time.” He turned to face her leaving his key hanging from the door. “How would you feel about us maybe moving in together?”

She paused for a moment, looking at him, realising he was deadly serious. She raised her eyebrow.

“I thought you came from a time where man and woman didn’t live together until they were married?”

“We could get married if you want.” He blurted out. That made Katie raise both eyebrows as she studied him again, her mouth dropping into a small ‘o’. Steve looked back at her, trying to keep his face passive, as if it had been a joke, even though he knew it wasn’t. He’d known for months she was the one.

But to blurt it out like that? Outside his apartment door, in such a dumbass way?

Way to go, Rogers.

Katie cocked her head to one side, there was a funny look on Steve’s face that she couldn’t place. But whatever it was, even if Steve was serious about them getting married, she knew him well enough to understand that was not how he would want to propose, and that he was probably kicking himself about stumbling it out the way he had done. So she broke the nervous tension, as she always did, with a slight joke.

“You know, that’s not much of a proposal.” She slid her arms up around his neck. “But its one step up from you’d make a great housewife, I suppose.”

“Should I try again?” A cheeky grin spread across his face, glad the tone was playful, his arms circling her waist “Yeah, with a big, fuck off Tiffany diamond.”

“I didn’t think you were so materialistic?”

“Well, you know what they say? Diamonds are a girls’ best friend.”

“And there I was, thinking it was me.” He muttered, his lips pressing onto hers.

“That’s so sweet!” A voice interrupted and they both turned to look at Kate, his neighbour from over the hall. For a split second Steve thought she was talking to them but it soon became apparent she was on the phone. “That’s so nice…but hey, I gotta go…okay bye…”

She dropped the phone into the basket of laundry she was carrying before grinning at us both “My aunt, she’s kind of an insomniac”

Steve smile before looking at the basket of washing in her arms as he dropped his arm round Katie’s shoulder “you know if you want…if you want, you can use my machine. Might be easier and cheaper than the one in the basement.” “Thank you, but I already have a load in downstairs actually, and you really don’t want my scrubs in your machine.” She grinned. “I just finished a rotation on the infectious diseases ward, so,”

“Ah, well, we’ll keep our distance,” Steve grinned, holding his hands up, palms out.

“Hopefully not too far.” She chuckled. “Don’t want to lose my best neighbour. Okay, well I better be off.” She turned to go before she stopped and spun back round to look at Steve. “Oh, by the way, I think you left your stereo on.”

“Right, thank you.” Steve watched her go, frowning. He looked at Katie as they both pressed their ears to the door. The record player was certainly on but…

“We definitely didn’t leave that on before.”  Katie looked at him, as the gentle tones of Kitty Kallen Long Long Time hit their ears.

Steve held his finger up to his lips and gestured to the window, before leaving Katie where he was. He ran off, down the stairs as fast as he could and then he scaled the gate on the fire escape easily. Once he reached the steps which were parallel to his window he took a running jump, easily pulling himself up over the sill and into the kitchen area. Quickly and quietly he moved along the wall, picking up his shield which was leaning against the shelving unit. Holding it up, he cautiously peered round the corner of the room into the living area and instantly relaxed when he saw Fury lounging in a chair.

“I don’t remember giving you a key.” He said, somewhat sardonically.

“What, you really think I’d need one?” Nick replied. Steve shook his head and headed to the front door of the flat, pulling it open.

“Fury.” He said with a roll of his eyes, turning and walking back into the apartment.

“Huh?” Katie asked as she followed him into the living room, where the music was coming from, to see Fury sitting on the couch in the dark.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded.

"Nice to see you too, Nova. And in answer to your question my wife kicked me out.”

“I didn’t know you were married,” She continued, frowning. And she didn’t. And she wasn’t sure that he was.

“There are a lot of things you don’t about me,” Fury replied casually.

“I know, Nick. That’s the problem,” Steve grumbled walking forward as Katie remained where she was, eyes narrowed at her old boss. Steve flipped on the light switch, instantly recoiling in surprise when he noticed Fury’s injuries. Besides him Katie gasped slightly and moved to get closer to help but Fury indicated for her to stop and the both of them to stay quiet. He turned off the light again and typed something on his phone.

'EARS EVERYWHERE’.

Bugs? His apartment was bugged? By who? They both exchanged a glance and instantly Katie looked up and around the room, as if she expected to see a microphone glaring at them.

“I’m sorry to have to do this but I had nowhere else to crash,” Fury looked around a bit before he typed something else up on his phone:

'SHIELD COMPROMISED’.

Steve and Katie shared another glance, the pair of them wide eyed. This was bad.

“Who else knows about your wife?” Steve asked, keeping his voice even.

Fury showed them another text;

'YOU TWO AND ME’.

“Just my friends,” Fury grunted in pain while getting up and walking closer to them.

“Is that what we are?” Katie blinked at him. She still hadn’t completely forgiven the man for lying to them all about Coulson. 

“That’s up to you.” Fury replied, his eyes darting from Katie to Steve.

Then out of nowhere came a rapid succession of gunshots. Steve quickly pushed Katie out of the way, the pair of them taking cover behind the kitchen wall as Fury groaned before he collapsed down to the floor. Steve scooted forward, keeping as low as he could, pulling him into the kitchen. Katie knelt next to him and tried to check his injuries through his black clothing when he reached up and handed something to Steve.

“Don’t, trust anyone,” he coughed before passing out.  Katie and Steve both looked at what he had been handed and saw that it was a flash drive. Steve curled his hand around it and looked at Katie, but before either of them could say anything else there was the sound of someone breaking into the apartment. Steve quickly moved into a defensive position, in front of Katie and Fury, raising his shield.

“Captain Rogers?” a familiar voice suddenly called out and they watched as Kate, his neighbour, cautiously walked in with a gun pointed. “I’m Agent Thirteen of SHIELD’s Special Service.”

“Kate?” Steve frowned, shaking his head. He’d just about had his fill of surprises.

“I’m assigned to protect you.” She continued

“On whose orders?” Katie snapped.

Kate stopped as she spotted Fury lying on the floor. “His,” she dropped besides Katie, checking Fury for a pulse and then spoke into her radio

“Foxtrot is down, he’s unresponsive. I need EMTs.”

“Do you have a twenty on the shooter?” A SHIELD agent questioned through the radio.

Then there was a movement on the other side of the window, on the roof adjacent to the building.  Steve instantly glanced up and saw a flash of silver and the shadow of a figure running across the rooftop.

“Tell them I’m in pursuit.” He said and with that he took a running jump and smashed straight through his window, and through into the office building opposite. Steve ran, keeping his eye on the man, smashing through walls, windows, anything in his way. Eventually he caught up with him on the roof and flung his shield at the assassin who, to Steve’s shock, caught it with one swift move in the hand of his metal arm. There was a pause as Steve could do nothing but eye the man with surprise before the shield came flying back. Steve caught it, with both hands on its rim but the force pushed him back a few yards along the gravel surface of the roof. By the time he had stopped the momentum moving him, the assassin had jumped. Steve ran to the edge of the building and looked down.

He was gone.

*****

“What happened?” Hill asked as they all looked through the glass window at the hustle and bustle of the operating room. Steve moved his arm from around Katie and took her hand in his, squeezing her fingers gently.

"He was at my apartment when we got home.” Steve started. “I hadn’t even had chance to ask why when there were two blasts, then another. Someone shot him through the window- three times. I tried to go after the shooter, but I lost him on the roof of the building across the street.”

Steve had no doubt in his mind that if there was anyone else in SHIELD they could trust right now it was Hill, but both he and Katie kept quiet. He had taken Fury’s warning of trusting nobody seriously and had told Katie as much as they had strode through the ED of the hospital. Both were aware that Hill was studying them, side on, her face stony.

“What aren’t you telling me?” She asked quietly.

“Nothing.” Katie answered for them.

Before Hill could drill either of them anymore, the door to the observation room flung open and heavy footsteps crossed the room, stopping at the other side of Katie.

“Is he gonna make it?” Natasha asked, almost inaudibly, staring through the window.

“We don’t know,” Hill mumbled.

“Tell me about the shooter,” Natasha whispered

“He’s fast and strong. And he had a metal arm,” Steve said, letting go of Katie’s hand to fold his arms across his chest and as he did, they both caught the look of recognition and slight fear on Natasha’s face reflected in the window.

“Ballistics?” She swallowed heavily.

“Three slugs. No rifling and completely untraceable,” Maria answered softly.

“Soviet made?”

“Yeah,” Maria looked at Natasha in shock. Steve turned to face her, as did Katie, but she didn’t look back. She stared straight through to the operating theatre but before Katie could ask what it was that she wasn’t saying, the operation room went into overdrive. Machines started beeping erratically, the doctors and nurses were rushing around the room and the panic was palpable even behind the glass. But they couldn’t save him.

“Time of death, 1:03 A.M.”

A few moments passed as the four of them stood completely in shock. Katie reached up to wipe a tear that had trickled down her cheek away, before Natasha turned and almost sprinted out of the room.

Steve pulled his hand out of his pocket, turning the flash drive that Nick had given him over in his hand. Nick had been killed because he knew whatever it was that was on that drive. What could possibly be so bad, so secret, so dangerous that the Director of SHIELD was deemed a threat for knowing? He glanced up at Katie who was watching him, tears in her eyes. She might have had her issues with Fury, but he was a good man and would never have wished him dead. With a sigh Steve placed the item back into his pocket and pulled her in for a hug.

******

A little later, they were all in the same room as Nick’s body. Natasha was by him, hardly having moved a muscle, almost like she was in shock. And it unnerved Katie. Nat wasn’t one to really show emotion but then again, Fury had meant a lot to her. The door opened and a doctor entered, speaking to Hill. She nodded and then walked over to Katie and Steve, coughing to clear her throat.

“They need to take him.” She said, her voice cracking slightly. Steve nodded and stepped forwards.

“Nat. Natasha…” But at that she turned away from them all and made her way quickly into the corridor of the Hospital. Katie and Steve looked at one another, before they hastily followed her.

“Why was Fury in your apartment?” Natasha span around to ask Steve. Her eyes were filled with sadness, but Katie could also see suspicion etched on her pretty features.

“I don’t know,” Steve sighed shrugging his shoulders, and before the conversation could go on further they were interrupted by Rumlow.

“Cap, they want you back at Shield,” He informed them, gently touching Katie’s shoulder. “You too Nova.”

“Alright, give us a second,” Steve nodded dismissing Rumlow, perhaps a little more harshly than he intended, as he turned back to Natasha but Rumlow was insistent

“They want you now,”

“Alright” Katie spoke firmly but calmly. Rumlow nodded and then moved back down the hallway.

“You’re a terrible liar.” Natasha shook her head at Steve with her trademark smirk that didn’t reach her eyes before she turned and left.

“What the hell is on that drive?” Katie asked Steve after a moment of silence.

“I don’t know, but it’s what Natasha was saving data to on our mission the other day.” He replied before he looked up staring very focused into a vending machine to his right, which was open as a janitor filled it up. He didn’t want to take the drive back to the Triskellion, just in case. He knew that something wasn’t quite right.

Katie caught his eye before glancing around the hallway that was mostly full of SHIELD agents, luckily they were all congregated on the other end.

“Do it.” She nodded, figuring out his intention to hide the item “I’ll distract them.”

Without another look back at him, she began to stride forwards towards Rumlow.

“Its almost four am.” she glanced at her watch. “What do they want us for Brock? We already told Sitwell what we know and I don’t work for SHIELD anymore, remember?”

Rumlow shrugged “Honestly, I don’t know Nova. I’m just under instructions to get you both back to base.”

At that point Steve reached them, but he wasn’t stopping. Taking Katie’s hand he nodded to the STRIKE leader

“Let’s go.”

“Yeah,” Rumlow fell into step with them, fixing his earpiece. “Strike! Move it out.”

Steve drove to the Triskellion, Katie’s car flanked by the Armoured SUVs as they sped through the streets of DC. Katie dozed off for ten minutes and Steve let her sleep, lost in his own thoughts. He had expected her to be called in alongside him, especially after she had been, along with him, the last people Fury had spoken to him before he died. But he wasn’t happy about it, he wanted her as far away from whatever the hell was going on as possible. Once they arrived he gently shook her awake and the two of them were given an hour or so to grab something to eat. Neither were hungry, but they forced down their sandwiches, Katie’s brain working in overdrive as she did so. Something was nagging at her, and she was trying to make the connections, figure it out, but her head simply kept replaying Fury getting shot over and over.

“Foxtrot is down, he’s unresponsive. I need EMTs.”

“Do you have a twenty on the shooter?”

She frowned.

“What is?” Steve asked, coffee in his hand as he sat back on one of the large chairs in one of the common rooms by the kitchen area.

“Before…when Kate…Agent thirteen, whatever the hell her name is called back to base…she said Fury was down and needed EMTs…”

She paused and Steve waited, knowing how her analytical brain worked. She had to follow threads, talk them over or write them out, letting them weave together as she did. A look of comprehension crossed her face as the threads connected.

“Sitwell…” She whispered.

“What about him?” Steve asked. “He was the one that replied, at least it sounded like him.” She bit her lip, but not in the seductive way that made his crotch twitch, the way she did when she was thinking “And he asked…do you have a twenty on the shooter.”

Steve frowned, not quite sure where this was going. “Okay…”  “Well, how did he know Fury had been shot? How could anyone know he had been shot?”

Now he understood. He understood completely. Damned it she was clever. “They couldn’t.” He sat up and leaned towards her, his voice dropping. “Not unless they were there or Kate…whoever, told them.”

“And she didn’t. She just said he was down and unresponsive.” “Which means…” Steve began, but Katie finished for him. “Sitwell knew about the hit. Because he was in on it.”

The both looked at one another, their faces wearing similar looks of shock. Fury was right, SHIELD was compromised. But how far, they had no idea.

Before Steve had chance to say anything else, the door opened and Rumlow stepped in

“Secretary Pierce is ready now guys.” “Thanks.” Katie nodded, shooting Steve another glance as they both stood up.

“Not a word.” He mumbled as they got into the elevator “We say nothing, not until we figure out who we can trust.”

“If we can trust anyone.” She mumbled back.

*****

“Captain, why was Nick in your apartment last night?” Secretary Pierce looked at Steve as he sat on the couch next to Katie in the large office.

“I don’t know.” He answered in a soft voice.

“Did you know it was bugged?” Pierce pressed on.

“We did.” Katie nodded meeting the secretary’s eye. “Because Nick told us.”

“Did he tell you he was the one who bugged it?”

Steve took a breath and glanced at Katie, his expression stony but the two of them shared the understanding.

No, no he had not.

“I want you to see something.” Pierce continued, and gestured to a monitor just behind the couches we were sitting on. On the screen was a man tied down to a chair, he looked to be currently being interrogated. Katie didn’t recognise the man, but Steve did.  It was Batroc, the lead merc from the hijacking of the Lemurian Star.

“Is that live?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, they picked him up last night in a not so safe house in Algiers.”

“Are you saying he’s a suspect?” Steve didn’t take his eyes off the screen “Assassination isn’t Batroc’s line.”

“It’s more complicated than that. Batroc was hired anonymously to hijack the Lemurian Star. He was contacted by email and paid by wire transfer, and then the money was run through seventeen fictitious accounts. The last going to a holding company that was registered to a Jacob Veech.” Pierce said handing Steve a folder.

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Steve skimmed through the file offered to him in curiosity and confusion.

“Not likely. Veech died six years ago. His last address was 1435 Elmhurst Drive. When I first met Nick, his mother lived at 1437.”

“Wait,” Katie frowned as she gathered what Pierce was suggesting. “Are you saying Fury hired the pirates? Why?”

“The prevailing theory?” Pierce shrugged. “The hijacking was a cover for the acquisition and sale of classified intelligence. The sale went sour and that led to Nick’s death.”

“If you really knew Nick Fury you’d know that’s not true.” Steve replied strongly, and he believed it. Fury was a lot of things, but a traitor he was not.

Pierce nodded in agreement. “Why do you think we’re here talking?” He then got to his feet and began to walk towards the window. “See, I took a seat on the council not because I wanted to, but because Nick asked me to because we were both realists. We knew that despite all the diplomacy, and the hand shaking and the rhetoric, to build a really better world sometimes means having to tear the old one down. And that makes enemies.”

Steve didn’t like the way this was going. He looked at Katie and gestured for her to stand as he did. Pierce turned back around and looked at them both.

“Those people that call you dirty because you’ve got the guts to stick your hands in the mud and try to build something better. And the idea that those people could be happy today,” Pierce shoved his hands in his pockets. “Makes me really, really angry. Captain, you and Miss Stark were the last ones to see Nick Fury alive. I don’t think that’s an accident.” Pierce said matter-of-factly. “And I don’t think you do, either. So, I’m going to ask again was he there?”

“He told us not to trust anyone.” Steve said honestly.

Pierce made a humming sound. “I wonder, if that included him.”

There was a tense moment of silence before Steve spoke again. “I’m sorry. Those were his last words. Excuse us,” He turned to leave, picking up his shield that he sent down upon our arrival and attaching it to the harness on his back, before ushering Katie out of the room slightly ahead of him.

“Captain,” Pierce’s voice halted him mid step and he turned to look at him. “Someone murdered my friend. I’m going to find out why. Anyone who gets in my way is going to regret it.” Pierce’s voice rang out again, a pointed look in their direction.

Steve wasn’t a stupid man, and he knew that was a veiled threat. He took a deep breath, considering his response, before he decided appearing un-rattled was the best option.

“Understood.” He nodded, holding the door open for Katie to step through keeping himself between her and Pierce as he followed, anchoring his hand on her back to keep her moving.

“You should have lied.” She whispered.

“Huh?” “Back then, said we didn’t know why Fury was there. By telling him that he told us not to trust anyone he knows we know and that we’re hiding something.” Her tone was a little panicked and Steve simply took a deep breath.

“We need to get to the hospital and get that stick.” He looked at her, remaining  adamant that whatever it was that was on there would hold the answers. He looked up and down the corridor before they stepped into the elevator.

“Operations Control” Steve spoke as the elevator scanned his face and Katie’s Guest ID.

“Confirmed”

Just as the doors were about to close, Rumlow stepped in with two other STRIKE agents.

“Keep all STRIKE personnel on site” He was saying.  Both the agents nodded and voiced their acknowledgement of his order. “Forensics.” 

“Confirmed.”

“Cap, Nova…” Rumlow nodded to them both.

“Rumlow.” Steve acknowledged him as the doors closed and they started to descend.

“Evidence Response found some fibres on the roof they want us to see.” Rumlow turned his head to look at Steve. “You want me to get the tac-team ready?”

“No, let’s wait and see what it is first.”

“Right.” Rumlow turned back and Steve looked out of the side of the elevator, pondering what his next move was. Chase down the man responsible? The drive? The elevator stopped at the next floor and Rollins plus a few more SHIELD and Strike agents entered, Steve moving over slightly to allow them in.

“What’s the status so far?” Rollins was saying.

“Administrations level” another one asked, before they continued whatever it was they were talking about, moving round to find a space behind Steve and Katie.

He noticed Katie look round, a frown on her face, but before he could say anything Rumlow spoke, looking over his shoulder at Steve.

“I’m sorry about what happened with Fury. Messed up, what happened to him”

“Thank you.” Steve nodded.

Katie could sense something was off. Years of training as an Agent didn’t just leave you when you quit, and those years of training had taught her very well to read body language. Rumlow was alert, too alert, and it was more than just a nervousness because Fury had been killed. There was an atmosphere in the lift, and she glanced at one of the agents that had joined them at the last floor. He was still talking, normally, but he there was a bead of sweat dripping down his cheek from his temple.

Steve could sense it too. He watched as Rumlow and Rollins exchanged a glance and looked down at Katie who was watching him, nervous expression on her face. He shook his head gently, instructing her to keep calm.

The elevator stopped and another agent entered.

“Records”

This one stood in front of them, facing the elevator doors and it was then with a slight air of exasperation at allowing it to happen, Steve realised they were surrounded. Whilst he wasn’t too concerned, he knew he could more than likely fight his way out, it was his girl he was bothered for. It had been months since she had been in active combat, and this was going to be brutal. Besides him Katie stiffened, feeling very underprepared for what was about to go down. She had no weapons, nothing. Instinctively Steve gripped her hand and pulled her forward so she was stood next to him instead of behind and moved his feet apart slightly, hands on the buckle of his belt, adopting his Captain stance, preparing for what was coming.

“Before we get started,” he sighed, looking down before he stared straight ahead, “does anyone want to get out?”

His eyes flicked to the back of Rumlow’s head. There was a moment’s pause before all hell broke loose. They both put up a good fight, ducking, diving, punching. Steve was then shocked with a baton, but he simply grit his teeth, absorbing the electricity into his body. It hurt, but it wasn’t unbearable. And then, three of them managed to snap one of his arms to the wall of the elevator using some kind of metallic clamp, before five of them piled on him at once, attempting to pin his other arm in too. He kicked out, taking down as many as he could.

Just as Katie had floored the second of the agents who had launched at her, she was grabbed from behind by her hair and hauled to the edge of the elevator, being wrestled roughly to the floor by Rumlow who was instantly on top of her, trying to get her wrists from where she had positioned them underneath her body in an attempt to stop them restraining her.

"Brock…” She spoke gently, looking at him as she swallowed. “What’s going on?” “I’m sorry Stark.” He shook his head. “Just following orders.”

“Yeah well follow this.”  She snarled, the anger brewing in her as she jerked her head forwards as hard as she could, feeling it connect with his nose.  He yelled, and then her head snapped painfully to the right as he back handed her straight across the face. She felt her lip split and the warm, metallic taste of blood hit her taste buds, stars flashing in front of her eyes as her ears began to ring from the harsh knock.

Steve saw Rumlow land the blow to Katie’s face and let out a growl of anger and aimed another kick at the final agent standing, causing them man to collide with the side of the elevator before slumping down. He turned, pulled on his arm as hard as he could, wrenching the cuff off the side of the elevator and looked up in time to see Katie, who was now pinned against the wall by another set of those damned cuffs, take a blow to the ribs from Rumlow causing her to cry out in pain.

“Rumlow!” Steve yelled causing the man to whip his head round, surprise on his face. Katie, using her arms as leverage, swung her legs upwards, kicking Rumlow with both feet. The STRIKE leader stumbled slightly as Steve snarled at him, his entire body and face alight with rage “Touch my girl again and I’ll fucking kill you.”

Rumlow got to his feet, holding one of his arms out, electric rod in his hand “Whoa, big guy. I just want you both to know, this ain’t personal.”

He then lunged at Steve with his electric rod but one on one Steve was easily able to defend himself, he moved to the right, dodged and grabbed Rumlow, throwing him harshly upwards where he crashed into the ceiling of the elevator, before falling to the floor, unconscious.

“Yeah well, it kind of feels personal” Steve said, his breath slightly ragged from the exertion. He used his foot to flip his shield over like a Frisbee, catching it perfectly.

“You alright?” Steve asked, stepping over the bodies that littered the floor of the elevator to get to Katie.

“Yeah.” She assured him. Steve cut the cuffs that were restraining her into two pieces with his shield and she bent over, his hands gently on her back as she rubbed at her side before straightening up and stalking over to where Rumlow was beginning to stir slightly. She kicked him hard in the face, causing him to flip backwards and he was out, unconscious.

“Nothing personal.” She spat, then looked up at Steve. There was a moment during which they both looked around, trying to make sense of what had happened, before the elevator doors opened and Steve pulled Katie sharply behind him. They both stared at a team of STRIKE agents pointing their weapons into the elevator. Steve raised his shield.

“Drop the shield! Put your hands in the air!”

Steve looked round, and spotted the elevator wires to the left of Katie’s head

“DUCK!” he yelled at her, and as she did, he swiped with his shield over her head sending them plummeting. Eventually the emergency brake systems kicked in and the elevator stopped, slightly misaligned with the doors by a few feet. As Katie bent down to retrieve a gun and some ammo off one of the Agents, Steve forced the door open, intending to climb out but more STRIKE agents were approaching. He closed the door again and looked at Katie, then around the glass walls, looking down below us at the glass roof of the main Triskelion atrium.

It was a long way but they could make it.

“You’re fucking kidding, right?” Katie exclaimed, realising exactly what he was thinking.

“Give it up, Rogers! Get that door open! You have nowhere to go!” came the yell from the floor outside the elevator door.

“Do you trust me?” Steve asked, both his hands cupping Katie’s face.

“Of course I do, but…”

“Then hang on…”

She sighed and jumped onto his back, swinging her legs round his waist and her arms round his neck. Steve raised his shield in front of him, before he propelled them forward and broke through the glass in the elevator, spreading his arms out wide as he fell to prevent them from tumbling through the air before tucking his body as tightly in to his shield as he could. Katie did the same, burying her head into his back as they crashed through the glass ceiling and hit the floor with a loud clang, to screams and shouts from people all around the atrium.

Katie gave a soft groan, rolling off Steve who moaned and stretched out, having been winded from the impact. But Steve knew they had to keep moving. With a monumental effort, he pushed himself up onto his knees, took a deep breath and offered his hand to Katie to help her stand. They both took a quick glance around before he started to run, pulling her with him. She stumbled slightly, but Steve kept hold of her, not letting her fall until her legs seemed to be working again.

And then they ran.

**** Chapter 15

**Original Posting**

[travelingue]

Houghton Hall, Norfolk: Bob’s palazzo

The hall was built as a residence for Walpole, Britain's first prime minister.  How a mere politician – and a commoner at that - could afford such splendour is no mystery, given the corruption of the early 1700s.

Building a country house in his native Norfolk had several advantages for Robert Walpole.  He could impress people with displays of his wealth and power.  And he could keep his wife there while conducting the affairs of the state - as well as more private ones - in London.

The Walpoles had been country squires in this north-west corner of East Anglia for a long time.  In 1721, after become prime minister, Robert came up with a plan to turn the family manor into a grand home in the Italian style.

The estate manager looked at the drawings and saw a problem: there was a village where Bob's palazzo would stand.

Walpole shrugged: "I'll just move those cottages there."  He pointed to a spot two miles from their present location.

"You can't do that," the manager said. "I'm the most powerful man in the land now.  I can do as I bloody well please."’ "How do you suppose the villagers would feel about it?" "I should think they'll be delighted," Walpole said. "Why?" "Have you ever heard the phrase Build Back Better?" "No." "Are you suggesting I invented it?" "Yes." "Thank you."

As he surveyed his future aggrandized estate, Walpole spotted a bunch of deer.  One of them was white.

"What is this?" he asked the manager.   "It's an albino deer." "It looks like a unicorn with antlers." "They are very rare indeed." "I want all the deer in my park to look like that."

The manager pointed out that finding a male and female albino deer would be difficult enough, but culling their non-albino offspring and repeating the operation over generations would be a huge waste of animal life and human effort.

Walpole shrugged: "What did I say about being the most powerful man in the land?"

So the palace was built, the village was moved and to this day all the deer in the park are white.

Walpole's descendants still live in Houghton Hall. You can visit part of the grounds but the State Rooms have been closed since the start of the pandemic. I suppose one can understand the desire of the current marquess to keep the Great Unwashed at a distance.  I wouldn't want the paying public to breathe all over my flat either.  Still, it's a bit of a shame.

You can visit the walled garden though.  I didn't see the point of paying £10 a ticket to look at some shrubbery, but the prospect appealed to my wife.   We had travelled all the way from London so we went.

Now I don't like gardens.  You say the word Capability and I stop listening.  In fact we moved from a semi-detached to an apartment specifically to escape burgeoning vegetation.

But I have to admit that the walled garden at Houghton Hall is something else.

Some bits reminded me of the Jardins du Luxembourg back home.  Then I turned a corner and I was in Versailles.  I found even the flowers magnificent.  I impressed my wife by correctly identifying hydrangeas (it was a guess, but it may have been an educatedly Freudian one.)

The centrepiece of the place – the bit that has everyone go "Wow!" - was a flame fountain.

Walpole had a knack for the wow-factor.  I wanted to read about him so went to gift shop and paid another £10 for a booklet on him.

Nothing, I found out, predestined Robert for grand things: he was short, fat, unkempt, and a third son.  In the early 1690s, he was sent to Cambridge to prepare for a life of ecclesiastical obscurity.

His father, a colonel also called Robert, mainly saw him as source of cash: in 1700 Bob the elder arranged a marriage with the daughter of a rich merchant and pocketed the dowry to settle his gambling debts.

But then young Walpole's luck turned.  His two elder brother AND the colonel died in quick succession.  At the age of 24 he inherited not just the Houghton estate but a parliamentary sinecure that went with it. He never looked back.

A gifted orator, a tireless worker and a master at sharp parliamentary practices, he became the key man in the Commons and took over the Whig faction.  He got the top job in 1720 and kept it for 20 years, a longevity record for UK prime ministers he still holds.

Incidentally, the booklet said, he did not like to be called "prime minister".  He was the chancellor.  But as this was the most senior cabinet position at the time, wags gave it the ridiculously grand title of "prime minister".  In time a term of derision became an official title.

Walpole knew exactly whom to bully, whom to flatter and whom to bribe.  He grew very rich as a result.  Like other successful PMs down the ages, Walpole was duly hated by the best writers of his time.  He inspired Swift, Fielding and Gay to peaks of satirical literature.

Our visit to Houghton Hall helped me refine my views on British history.

Continentals of a liberal bent like me tend to see the Glorious Revolution as a cut-off point. Before 1688 it's all mayhem, misery, civil war, bloodthirsty kings and martyred archbishops; after 1688 we have the parliamentary system, clean successions, tolerance, the Industrial Revolution, the sheltering of immigrants, resistance to tyranny and the invention of the World Wide Web.

In short 1688 begat John Locke, who begat David Hume, Adam Smith, and every Great Briton from Jane Austen to Brunel, Dickens, Lewis Carroll, John Cleese, David Gilmour and Emma Raducanu.

I now realise that my "It's the Glorious Revolution, stupid" view was a tad simplistic.  The transition from absolute rule to representative democracy and the Enlightenment was a messy one.  Real change is always gradual.  Given my nationality and liberal bent, I should have realised that abrupt revolutions don't work.

It took someone who was steeped in the old, venal ways to stabilise a fragile parliamentary order.  That person was Walpole.  He deserved his palace.  I'm not sure about his current descendants though: I hope they reopen the State Rooms soon and stop culling deer that happen to be the wrong colour.

[supernatural-jackles]

The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 14

Title: The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 14

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3,510

Warnings: Minor Angst, Mentions of Semi- Forced Prostitution, Manipulation,  Ketch is a HUGE douchebag, Anxiety, Sickness, FLUFF!

Summary: Driving down the road, going well over the speed limit. You come across a man walking in the opposite direction with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. His head cast down as he walked. Your gut instinct is telling you to check on this man, no matter what your parents told you growing up. Little did you know just how much this would change your life.

The Man on the Side of the Road - Masterlist

A/N: Are you ready to hate Ketch more? Happy Sunday!! As always, I love hearing your thoughts on this story!! Only two parts left after this!! Happy reading!! 

Finally!

You were free.

 You walked out of the building with your head held high. You had just finished your last final for the semester and you had a great feeling about it. Not only was it your easiest exam, but it was also your longest. It was a simple essay about the things you had learned in the class throughout the semester and how they are relevant to your life outside of the class. It was simple and you finished it in record time. Now you were free until next semester. You had all of Christmas break to relax and spend time with your boyfriend.

 It was your turn to pick up the groceries this week. Dean had wanted you to grab him some shampoo, and a stick of deodorant. That was all he needed. You on the other hand needed a bunch of things. You were out of tampons and running low on pain meds for the monthly visit from Mother Nature. The fridge was practically empty, and the freezer was no better.

 You grabbed a cart before entering the store. It was pretty empty for just after one in the afternoon. Everyone was at work, which was going to make shopping a little easier. You went about your usual routine. Starting with fruits and vegetables. You had certain things you needed in order to make dinner. Dean liked to have lettuce in the house at all times because of how useful it was. Tacos, burgers, salads. So many purposes. You picked up some carrots, onions  and celery too, knowing it was going to get cold. It was always good to have for soup.

 You turned down the aisle you needed the most, grabbing a box of tampons off the shelf, along with a box of pads, just in case. Your cart was getting pretty full with all of the stuff you threw in on your way to this aisle. You headed straight, knowing that Dean’s shampoo would be at the other end when you hit something.

 “Y/N,” the female voice breathed out. Your eyes darted up, not believing what you were seeing. The last person you wanted to see, well, one of the last people you wanted to see anyways. Hell, you were surprised she spoke. 

 “Jo,” you scoffed, taking your cart to move away from her.

 “Y/N, wait,” she called out.

 “What? What do you want Jo?” you rolled your eyes, throwing your hands up in defeat. Her stomach was huge. She had to be seven months along by now, at least. You had to admit to yourself, it was a little funny to see her in this situation.

 “To apologize,” she frowned. “Can - can I take you out to lunch, please. I promise, one lunch and I’ll leave you be.”

 “What’s the point?” you sighed.

 “We were best friends at one point,” she sniffled.

 “Were,” you pointed out.

 “Please. I just - I want to explain things,” she shrugged. “Please. You can hate me all you want after. But I’d really like to tell you everything.”

 “Okay,” you nodded. “One lunch.”

 “I’ll meet you at Benny’s in twenty?” she told you.

 “Yeah,” you agreed.

 You went about the rest of your groceries. Your mind was reeling over what just happened. What could she possibly have to say to you, especially after all this time? She had Ketch, and she had a baby on the way. She was wasting her time, and quite frankly, so were you. There was nothing more she could say to make amends for all she did. She had proven she didn’t care about you long ago. 

 You paid for your groceries and headed back out to your car. Thankfully, you didn’t buy anything frozen so you could afford to sit for a little while without things melting. You didn’t think this lunch was going to last long whatsoever. You had visions of you storming out on her. Or worse, seeing Ketch there with her. You really didn’t want to do this. Why did you have to be a good person? Why did you have to listen to that tiny voice in the back of your head that was telling you to hear her out. 

 You pulled into the parking lot at Benny’s, taking the first available spot around the side of the building. You swallowed hard, knowing full well you should have ditched and headed home. You held your head high, willing yourself to stay confident. You didn’t want her to see you were weak or hurt by this. You were over this now. You were over Ketch and you had moved on. Your life was going better than it had been for a long time. You weren’t about to resort back to how things were before. 

 Jo was sitting in one of the booths that the group of you used to sit in late at night when you were drunk. They served the best of everything in this diner. It was a shock that you and Dean hadn’t eaten here yet. He’d like everything here, you thought to yourself. She had her hands out in front of her, linked together. You could see she was nervous. She had every right to be after what she had done to you.

 “Hi,” you greeted her. Her head flicked up, her eyes meeting yours.

 “Hi,” she swallowed hard. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

 “I’m a woman of my word,” you said plainly, taking a seat in front of her. You kept your expression emotionless. 

 “Y/N, I’m so sorry, for everything,” she breathed out. “Words can’t even begin to describe how sorry I am for what I’ve done to you.”

 “You’re damn right,” you scoffed. “There is nothing you can say that is going to make up for two years of it, Jo. Nothing. I don’t know what your intentions were when you wanted to talk, but if you thought I was just going to forgive you and we’d be best friends again, then you are stupid.”

 “Y/N, I’m not expecting your forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. I just wanted you to know my side of it. I should have told you about it. I really should have, but I was in trouble,” she began. “I- I was running out of money about two years ago. My mom only left me a little bit of money, the rest had to go towards paying off her debts, and everything else. I needed a job, so I asked Ketch if he could get me a job somewhere. A waitress at the country club, anything! I was desperate. I had nothing. I was about to be kicked out of my apartment.  He told me he had a job for me and to show up at his place at nine. I thought I was helping with a party or something. Turns out he was offering me money to sleep with Mick. So I did. I made a couple of grand for a couple of nights. I thought that was it. I had enough to keep my apartment, and I got the job on campus like I told you.  Then he told me that he’d pay me more for a threesome. I figured the extra cash would help so I agreed.  I didn’t know it was him until after the fact. He’s been paying me to keep quiet about it and to keep sleeping with him. He didn’t want to screw things up with you. He does love you, I want you to know that that part wasn’t made up. He was pissed and heartbroken when you didn’t show up for the wedding. I found out I was pregnant a few days after the wedding-”

 “I’m sorry, but he didn’t love me if he was sleeping with you,” you shook your head. “I’m sorry that things turned out that way for you, I am. But I wish someone would have told me I was wasting my time on him. I could have been happy with someone else. I was going to marry him! Why didn’t you stop that? Why weren’t you my friend? Why was he more important than that?”

 “You’re right. I realize that now. I’m nearly eight months pregnant with his baby; a baby he doesn’t want. I screwed up my life. I know he’s not going to stick around when I have her,” she admitted. “But I want you to know that he’s not over you. He’s convinced that he’s going to win you back. He’s just giving you space.”

 “I’m with someone else now,” you shared. “Ketch is dead to me as far as I’m concerned.”

 “Good for you. I hope this one treats you much better than he did. You deserve so much better than Ketch was to you. He controlled you too much. You look happier than I’ve seen you in a long time. You haven’t messed your life up like I have.”

 “It’s not completely your fault,” you shrugged. “You didn’t exactly have a choice.”

 “I had choices, I just made the wrong ones until I couldn’t get out of them,” she swallowed hard. “I’m glad you’re okay after all of it. I’m glad nothing happened to you. You deserve a better life than what was given to you.”

 “It took me a long time to be okay,” you admitted. “I - I wish you the best with your life, and your baby. Congratulations on the girl, by the way. I hope for your sake, he sticks around to help you. For once, he should pay for his mistakes.”

 “Who knows with him,” she whispered. “His parents are being more than supportive. Makes up for him.”

 “Good. I’m glad,” you nodded.

 “I should let you go, get back to your boyfriend and your life. You’ve got groceries,” she reminded you. “Thank you for coming.”

 “Yeah,” you breathed out. “Good luck with everything.”

 “Can - can I call you after she’s born?” she questioned.

 “Sure,” you agreed. “Take care.”

 You hopped back in your car, peeling out of the parking lot to head home. There was a part of you that felt really bad for her. It all started because she needed money. All because her mom died suddenly and she couldn’t handle things on her own. She made bad choices after bad choices and ended up in an even worse situation with a monster. You understood where she was coming from. You were happy you sat down with her and learned what you did. Ketch was an asshole, but then again you already knew that. It just sucked it took her this long to come forward. It didn’t matter to you at this point. You were over it. 

 You pulled into the driveway, finding Dean’s car still sitting in it’s usual spot. Was he home from work early today? It was rare for him to be home early. You managed to take all the bags inside in one go. The front door was already unlocked for you, and quite frankly, you couldn’t wait to see your handsome boyfriend when you walked inside.

 “Dean, I’m home,” you called out as you shut the door. Pure silence. Not a single sound from the house. You shrugged it off as you kicked your shoes off, taking the grocery bags to the kitchen.

 You began unpacking them, putting everything on the counters before putting them in their respective places in the house. It looked like a lot more in the cart than it did when you had it on the kitchen counter.

 “Hi,” his deep voice called out. You smiled, turning around to face him. Your face dropped when you saw him. His nose was red, his eyes a little puffy. He looked exhausted standing there in a green henley and pyjama pants.

 “Hi handsome,” you cocked your head to the side. “No offense babe, but you look a little under the weather.”

 “I caught a damn cold,” he pouted. Your heart melted at how adorable his pout was. He could get you in a lot of trouble with a face like that.

 “Poor baby,” you frowned. “I can make you some soup if you want?”

 “Would you mind? I feel like shit - no I feel worse than shit,” he admitted. “My nose is stuffy, my head is pounding. My throat is killing me. The worst part is that I can’t even kiss my girlfriend when she gets home from finishing her last exam.”

 “Come kiss my cheek,” you smiled. “I’m not afraid of your germs.”

 He slowly stepped over to you, a smile creeping up on his lips. You reached your arm out, your heart rate picking up as he grew closer, slipping into your hold. His lips pressed against your cheek, lingering a little longer than you anticipated.

 “How did your final go?” he asked you, moving to sit on top of the counter.

 “Aced it,” you grinned. “As you can see I went grocery shopping. Any kind of soup you want?”

 “Can you make tomato rice?” he pleaded, giving you his puppy dog eyes.

 “Anything for that face,” you beamed. “I want you to go into my bathroom, the drawer on the left. There is some dayquil in there that should help you feel a bit better. I’ll give you the nyquil before bed tonight.”

 “Thank you,” he muttered. “I’ll take these with me.” He grabbed the two boxes of yours off the counter before heading to your room. You smiled as you watched him walk away.

 You managed to get the rest of the groceries away without a problem. You felt bad for Dean. Having a cold was the worst and he sounded like he was suffering. You could only hope that the dayquil helped him, along with the soup you were making. You didn’t like seeing him sick.

 “Y/N,” he called out, his voice coming out raspy.

 “Hmm?” you cocked your eyebrow, glancing over at him.

 “I would help but-”

 “Go lay down. I’ll bring your soup in for you in a little bit. I’ll hold you later, play with your hair the way you like it,” you assured him.

 “I’m so damn lucky to have you,” he muttered the best he could.

 “Nah, that’s me,” you winked.

 You pulled out the supplies you needed to make his tomato and rice soup. You couldn’t have been more thankful for the vegetables you picked up. You had everything you needed to make it. You just hoped it was good. You hoped it made him feel a million times better. You didn’t like seeing him sick like this. He looked miserable.

 It took about an hour to get the soup done. It looked and smelled delicious. You couldn’t wait to try it for the first time. You placed two bowls on a tray you had tucked away in a cupboard, along with two glasses of water and a sleeve of saltine crackers.

 You walked over to Dean, seeing him curled up on the couch with a blanket covering his body. He was exhausted. You just wanted to hold him until he felt better. He had what looked to be Snow Day, playing on the tv. Not that he was paying attention.

 “Babe, time for some soup,” you whispered, nudging him awake. He let out a groan, shifting from his lying position just a little.

 “Sorry,” he mumbled, “tired.”

 “I know,” you frowned. “I’ve got your soup, and some crackers. I hope this makes you feel a little better.”

 “Me too,” he let out a dry laugh. “Thank you for making me this.”

 “‘Course, boyfriend,” you giggled. “I hope you like it.”

 “I’m sure I will,” he nodded, taking the spoon off the tray. The steam coming off the soup was still pretty strong. You took a spoonful, blowing on it before taking your first bite. The flavours hit your taste buds instantly. It was delicious. One of the nicest soups you had ever made. Dean looked like he was enjoying it. “This is delicious, sweetheart.”

 “Thank you,” you beamed at him. “Fingers crossed this makes you feel better.”

 “Just seeing you makes me feel better,” he shared with you.

 “You’re such a sap,” you giggled. “I love that about you.”

 “I gotta make up for not being able to kiss you for the next couple of days,” he shrugged.

 “You’re cute,” you smiled softly. “I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”

 “I’m the lucky one,” he shrugged. “How was your day anyways?”

 “Interesting,” you started. “I uh- I ran into Jo in the grocery store. She asked me to have lunch with her.”

 “Did you end up going?” he questioned, taking another bite of his soup.

 “Yeah, I did. We didn’t eat lunch or anything, but I heard what she had to say,” you began. “She told me about what happened between her and Ketch. How it all got started. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it at first. But I was kind of glad she told me. She was having money problems after her mom died, and Ketch offered her money to sleep with his friend. It ended up that he was paying her to sleep with him and to keep it quiet after that. She told me that he loves me and all that jazz. He’s apparently heartbroken that we’re over and he doesn’t want anything to do with her or their kid.”

 “That really doesn’t surprise me all that much,” he admitted. “Did she apologize to you?”

 “Yeah,” you nodded. “She did. But we’re never going to be friends like we were before. Or even acquaintances.”

 “Yeah, I wouldn’t be either. I’m glad she apologized to you though. She owned you that much. It's a little sad it took her this long to do it.”

 “Yeah,” you agreed. “I told her that part of my life was over and I had moved on with someone pretty great.” you nudged him. You looked over at him, seeing the smile appear across his cheeks. You liked seeing him smile like that. You knew you did a good job of making him feel wanted and that was something he needed.

 “I’m not that great,” he shrugged. “Better than Ketch in some ways-”

 “Dean Winchester, one, don’t you dare compare yourself to someone like Ketch, ever! And second, you are the best person I know,” you argued.

 “Y/N, I can’t give you what he surely could have. I’m not rich or have connections like he does-”

 “And I’m not asking you to,” you assured him, letting out a breath. You glanced over at him, seeing the sad look in his eyes. That same sad look he wore for a little while when he moved in all those months ago. He had the same look he had from time to time when he didn’t feel so great. “Dean, that’s not really the problem is it?”

 “I just- I’m having an off day, and I’m not sure I deserve you.”

 “C’mere,” you muttered. He placed his half eaten bowl of soup on the table in front of the couch, you doing the same. There was no way you were letting him feel like this. He shifted closer to you and you opened your arms up for him to move into. He rested his head on your shoulder, melting into your hold. You pressed your lips against his heated forehead before resting your cheek on his head.

 “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

 “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. You know that,” you stated. “Ketch isn’t half the man you are. He may have more money than he needs, and connections to a lot of people. That’s what my mom wants. Not me. I don’t care how much you make, or what kind of job you have. I care about you. I care about the person you are, and the relationship we have. Nothing materialistic matters to me. Not in the same way it does to everyone else I grew up with. As far as I’m concerned, this is exactly where I want to be. You’re exactly who I want to be with. My best friend.”

 “Me too,” he nodded.

 “Good,” you smiled softly. “I’ll always be here for you. Whether it’s when you’re dying from sickness, or your head’s not okay. I’ll always be here to make sure you’re okay, Dean.”

 “Goes the same the other way around,” he sniffled before clearing his raspy throat. “I love you, you know that?”

 You swore, your heart was going to leap out of your chest. Dean just muttered those three words to you. He said them first. He had a fever of one hundred and something, and you knew he was high on cold medication, but he still said them. Your lip curled upwards, tugging him closer to you before you placed another kiss to the top of his head.

 “I know,” you nodded. “I love you too.”

 “Really?” he asked, his voice going a little higher than normal.

 “Really,” you stated. “My poor sick boyfriend.”

 “Is it okay that I said it?” he mumbled. “It’s not too fast?”

 “Not too fast,” you whispered. “Thank you for saying them. Means a lot to me that you do.”

 “Means a lot that you do too,” he said lowly. “I’m pretty sure I took nyquil.”

  “I’m pretty sure you did too, babe,” you giggled. “Get some rest. I’ll be here.”

  “Mhhh good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

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