#me: true but he probably gets off putting his partner in as much credit card debt as possible
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
oh to be Mahito's paypig
#my art#jjk#mahito#selfship#uwu#my partner: i feel like mahito is more a hot topic person than prada or lous vuitton#me: true but he probably gets off putting his partner in as much credit card debt as possible
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
about the OH trip, he said i support you going. but said since i just started a job that should matter more. money is tight. said he would've rather me went when i wasn't working. yeah i wasn't working so that would've been nice but i was stressed that we didn't have money coming in. i have $6000+ debt on my credit card because of how we live. it's frustrating because i didn't select these routines. i don't know how he got to spending so much money a month. i have expenses but not really. and we can't cut back. i have no idea what expenses to cut back. there probably is some but i dont know!! most of my money that is on my credit card is from grocery trips. i like eating what we eat but god damn. i'm so sad and stuck. i want to break up. not really but i feel like i don't understand him and i never will. but i don't have the financial stability or anything to actually breakup. i feel like my depression has gotten worse since i've moved. not really and i know i will be depressed even if i break up with him it's just exhausting. i feel like i've had low levels of depression for a really long time. i don't bounce or squeal with excitement. but now i'm majority depressed. i feel like i cant put on a good face for work, every moment i'm exhausted. i don't want to laugh or smile or even try to have a good time. i don't want to eat. i want to cry all the time. and not one tear down my cheek, scary cry. my whole body shaking cry, my face looking like a contorted clown cry. i don't want to feel like this but i'm not sure how to get better. i've been ignoring money stress, not enough time stress, partner is an asshole stress. i've been pushing it down. saying it's ok it's ok. it sucks but it's ok. i cant anymore. i cant. even yesterday i accidentally broke a piece of their rig when i was cleaning it. i spent an hour and a half driving around to different smoke shops to get the piece for him. it was my off day yesterday, i spent my time doing that. he says he cares about me but i don't understand him. if he cares about me, wouldn't that time be better spent together. watching tv or talking or idk. if he broke my things i would be upset but i'd be like no i'd rather spend the time with you than you go try to replace it by yourself. when i say punishment it's a real thing. he wanted to punish me for breaking it. my punishment was driving around for it and paying for a new piece. i told him i don't think i deserve punishment and he said ok don't talk to him. so i didnt for awhile but then i knew things would just get worse if i didn't talk to him so i went to talk to him. he made me say i was being careless. idk this whole thing is just sad. basically i bring this up because he was like maybe this relationship isn't working. he brings up stuff like that when i have pushback. which is true. i don't think we belong together. but jesus. how do you get from me breaking your piece to wanting to break up. it's because i said no to the punishment. he said i always argue and say no to the punishments. it's because i don't understand. if he broke something of mine i would be upset but i never would want to hurt him for it. how does that make sense. i hurt him so he hurts me and that's all better. it's not. i'm already upset at myself for being an idiot so why does he have to pile on. it's like no matter how little i have to give - he still needs and takes his piece.
0 notes
Note
“I can’t believe you told them you were my fiancé” + Drarry 😘
Thank you @stavromulabetaaa @secretlycrazyhummingbird and anon for your prompts! I turned them into a New Years story, I hope that's all right 😁
Thanks @april-thelightfury115 for betaing!
Drarry | 2k | Teen and Up | Fake Fiancés, Auror Partners, Locked Down Together, Love Confessions | Read on AO3
“...And we’re still unsure whether the situation will be safe enough for us to marry in spring, so that’s why we haven’t organised much yet. Don’t worry, you’ll be the first to know as soon as we have a date.”
Harry, mind still fuzzy with sleep, empty mug in hand, stopped in his tracks by the living room door. Had he heard right?
“We understand, Draco,” came Narcissa’s voice from the Floo. “But you must understand our concerns, too.”
“I do, mother. But you know this was necessary.”
“We do,” Lucius said. “The most important thing is that we’re all safe right now, even if we missed having you home last night.”
Harry didn’t hear the end of the conversation—didn’t notice Draco walking into the kitchen a minute later; he was too busy frowning at the kettle.
“Morning,” said Draco from behind him. “Didn’t know you were up.”
“Didn’t know you were engaged,” Harry said without thinking—without turning around, without even understanding why he didn’t want to turn around; didn’t want Draco to see the whirl of emotions unravelling in his chest.
“Oh,” Draco said, voice low. “You heard that.”
Harry shook his head, eyes still fixed on the kettle.
“Not on purpose.” His words came out strained, and he cursed himself inwardly. Why did he even care? It wasn’t like Draco’s personal life was any of his business. Sharing a flat didn’t make them friends, now did it? No matter how much Harry had grown to enjoy having the git around all the time, and watching him fall asleep while they watched telly together at night, and getting to see Draco’s tousled hair in the mornings—
Draco sighed—a slow, heavy sound—and leaned against the counter beside him. Harry did look up at him then, and the maelstrom of emotion probably still all over his face came to an abrupt halt when he realised Draco was holding back a giggle.
“I’m not engaged, Potter,” he said, grin widening. “You look really upset at the idea, though. It’s a cute look on you.”
Draco’s mirth was beautiful, and so, so good at softening Harry from inside out. Still, Harry crossed his arms over his chest with an indignant huff, grumbling, “Sod off, I thought you were keeping an engagement from me!” When Draco only laughed at him, he added, “Why on Earth do your parents think you’re engaged, then?”
“I’ll tell you,” Draco said through another giggle, “but don’t murder me. I’m the best Auror partner you’ll ever have.”
Harry just raised his eyebrows at him—curiosity and concern mixing with a subtle hint of betrayal that refused to fade away just yet.
“My parents are…very traditional,” Draco started.
“I’d gathered that much, thank you.”
“Shut up, you giant prick. The thing is, they firmly believe people must live with their parents or on their own until they marry. Sharing a living space with anyone other than your spouse is…improper to them. I’m sure I don’t need to go into detail as to why.”
“You really don’t,” Harry said, grimacing.
“So when I told them I was moving in with you temporarily, I sort of…kind of…had to tell them we were engaged, and the only reason I was moving in with you before getting married was that we wanted to wait until the pandemic was over to have a big wedding with all our loved ones.”
To Harry’s credit, he didn’t drop the mug full of piping hot coffee all over himself.
He did gape at Draco for a good three seconds, though.
“Your parents think we’re engaged?”
“That’s what I said, yes.” Draco had the decency to look sheepish, at least. “If it’s any consolation, they also trust me to remain chaste until my wedding night, so they don’t think you and I have—”
“Oh my god.”
“I would never, anyway. They raised me well.”
“Stop. Shut up.” Harry rested the mug on the kitchen table—sat heavily on a chair, gaze unfocused. “But didn’t you explain—”
“I did explain to them I was moving in with you because we work together and it’s safest to have you as the only person in my bubble so I don’t put them at risk, yes. They argued I had enough money to rent a place for myself, and I panicked and told them you and I had plans to marry anyway, so it wasn’t all that bad, since they trust me to wait until my wedding night to—”
“Yeah, yes, got it.” Harry pressed his eyes closed, desperately trying to will images of a virginal Draco Malfoy draped over a white king-sized bed from his mind. “Were you planning on telling me any of this? You’ve been here for weeks…”
“I was, of course.”
Harry side-eyed him.
“It’s just—I guess…I was waiting for the right time to tell you, and it never really came up. And don’t give me that look! Remember how long it took you to tell me you weren’t dating Ginny anymore?”
“That’s different!” Harry said.
“Potter, you let me send both of you a Christmas card as though you were a couple and replied to it with her because it felt too awkward to tell me you’d broken up!”
Harry took a sip of his coffee to avoid Draco’s gaze.
“That may be true,” he muttered eventually, when he looked up at Draco again and found him still looking expectantly at him. “But this involves me directly. I mean, what if I’d answered a Floo call from them while you were in the bathroom and they’d brought up the engagement?”
“Excuse you, I never schedule anything at bathroom hours!”
“I...don’t want to know what that means.” Would it be too much for him to bury his face in his arms and fall right back asleep? “What are we going to do now?”
“We wait until lockdown is over and pretend we’ve broken up and are no longer engaged, of course.”
“What, so your parents hate me forever?” Harry asked. “No, thank you!”
“What do you mean, no thank you? The alternative, in case you hadn’t noticed, is to marry me, Potter!”
“You’re making my year start with a headache,” Harry groaned. “I hope you’re happy.”
“Very much so, actually,” Draco said. “Because you will pretend you’re my fiancé over Floo, won’t you? My parents have been asking to talk with you directly, and if it doesn’t happen soon, they’re going to start thinking you’re a bad husband…”
“Fiancé! I mean—flatmate. Colleague. Ugh. Fine. Fine. I’ll do it,” he said when Draco just pouted dolefully. He couldn’t resist those puppy eyes, dammit. “But I’ll be cursing you to hell and back in my mind the entire time.”
Draco’s grin was definitely not worth the sacrifice.
***
“Harry! What a delight to finally be able to talk to you. Draco says you’ve been busy with work matters lately.”
“Y-Yeah, it’s been chaos,” Harry said, resisting the urge to glare at Draco and hoping Narcissa couldn’t see the puzzle sitting on the coffee table or the stack of movies by the sofa through the Floo. “I’m really glad to see you, too.” Fuck, that’d sounded awfully awkward. “Happy new year, by the way—let’s hope it’s a better one.”
“Oh, I’m sure it will be. The year an offspring gets married is always among the best of a mother’s life.”
“Right. Of course.” Add ‘upsetting Narcissa terribly’ to the list of reasons to curse Draco.
“And I imagine it will be an even happier year for you two, especially if a future heir is in the picture by the end of it!”
ADD ‘ALMOST CHOKING TO DEATH ON MY SALIVA’ TO THE LIST OF REASONS TO—
“Mother, please, I think it’s a little bit to early for that—”
“I know, I know, sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry at all. “I’m just really excited for you, my Draco. You’ve wanted this for so long…”
Harry’s heart skipped a beat.
“Harry, you are one very lucky man, I hope you know that,” Narcissa went on, oblivious to the look Harry and Draco were sharing—the colour drained from Draco’s cheeks, a breath caught in Harry’s lungs. “I do hope you will be taking the Malfoy name, too! It would be an honour to have you as a part of our family tree…”
She went on about the Sacred Twenty-eight for what seemed like forever, and Harry was only vaguely aware of Draco interrupting her with the excuse they had to get back to work and ending the call after a round of good-byes.
For a moment, they both stared into the faceless flames.
“You’re not going to buy it if I tell you I really do need to get back to work, right?” Draco said after a moment, voice low.
“You know the answer to that.”
Draco huffed.
“Well, then, go ahead and ask what you want to ask. Don’t make me suffer for longer than necessary.”
Harry sneaked a glance in Draco’s direction. Unlike a few moments before, his face was a dark shade of red, hand clutching the edge of the carpet, knees drawn close to his chest.
“I don’t want to ask if you don’t want to tell me,” Harry murmured, looking back into the flames.
“It’s not like I can Obliviate you,” Draco retorted. “You heard what you heard.”
Harry nodded.
“That you’ve wanted me for a very long time.”
Draco didn’t reply.
Harry glanced at Draco’s hand again, now playing nervously with the fringe of the carpet, and, after a moment of hesitation that faded with his next exhale, he reached out and rested his hand on it. Draco’s fingers stilled under his touch, and Draco’s eyes found his—wide, scared, vulnerable.
He dared run the tips of his fingers over Draco’s knuckles, and his own breath caught when he heard Draco’s hitch.
“Draco…” Harry started, not knowing what he was even going to say. “The past few weeks have been… they’ve been—”
“Don’t,” Draco said, voice strained. “Don’t. Just—” He looked away again. “Just tell me you just want to be colleagues and be done with it, please.”
“Maybe that’s not what I want.” He slipped his fingers between Draco’s soft own; squeezed them gently. “Maybe what I want isn’t so different from what you want. You don’t know what’s going on inside my mind. You have no idea what the past few weeks have meant to me.”
Draco didn’t move under his touch—didn’t seem to move at all, except for the quick, uneven rise and fall of his chest. When he talked, the words came out quickly, in a whisper, as though he was terrified to hear himself say them.
“What are you saying, Potter?”
“What I’m saying is I want more of this. More puzzles, and movies, and more of your way-too-salty chicken soup, and more evenings and mornings by your side. I’m saying I hadn’t realised until very recently how much I want more of you, Draco. But I do. Merlin, I do.”
A sound somewhere between a whine and a choked cackle came out of Draco’s throat.
“You sound like I’ve actually proposed to you, you idiot,” he groaned. Harry rolled his eyes at him, squeezed his fingers yet again.
“I’m being serious!” he said, unable to hold back a laugh. “Don’t laugh at me!”
“I’m not! I’m just—this whole situation, it’s…”
“I know,” Harry murmured. “But it doesn’t have to be. Things don’t have to be so different now. I mean, we already work together and we’ve been having movie nights every Saturday for, what, three years now? And now we live under the same roof, we cook meals together, we fall asleep together on the couch…Merlin. We’re already like a married couple, aren’t we?” Harry said, horrified. “No wonder your parents bought the engagement story!”
“Wait till I tell you they were actually surprised it hadn’t happened sooner…”
Harry buried his face in his knees to stifle a groan.
“Come on,” he said after a moment, and stood up still holding on to Draco’s hand. “Let’s make some lunch and pretend like this wasn’t the most embarrassing conversation we’ve ever had.”
Draco’s fingers were still comfortably hooked around his as they made their way to the kitchen.
350 notes
·
View notes
Note
Please do more truth or drink I am OBSESSED
Your wish is my command! Thanks for the amazing response to Truth or Drink, everyone! These are so much fun to write and the Sirius/ Regulus dynamic is unparalleled <3
Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!
There is more cursing in this one, just fyi
“Bonjour!” Sirius and Regulus said in unison as they waved at the camera.
“Welcome back to Lion Pride Truth or Drink! I’m your captain, Sirius Black, and I’m here today with my brother Regulus.” Sirius reached for the unmarked bottle on the table. “Since he’s un bébé—”
“I’m nineteen, you fucker.”
“We’ll be drinking apple juice today instead of alcohol.”
“I can legally drink back in Quebec,” Regulus scowled as he took a sip of juice.
“First question, petit enfant! Have any of your friends thought I was good-looking?” Sirius tapped his card on the tabletop and grinned as Regulus grimaced.
“Not that I know of. They have taste.”
“Rude.”
A slow smile spread across Regulus’ face as he read his own card. “Who’s the smarter sibling?”
“Me, obviously.”
“Liar.” He turned to the camera. “It’s me. The younger sibling is always smarter.”
“That’s such bullshit.” Sirius flicked his first question at Regulus and took a new one. “How many sexual partners have you had?”
Regulus pulled a face. “None. That’s really not my thing. What’s the worst fight we’ve ever had?”
“That’s a tough one.” Sirius thought for a moment, biting his lip. “We don’t usually have big blowout fights. If I had to guess, I’d say you were most pissed at me when I left for Gryff.”
“Yeah, but you were really upset after the interview.”
“True. C’est la vie, I suppose.“ He read the next card and snorted. “Is there something about our childhood that we don’t like to talk about as adults? If so, should we talk about it now?”
Regulus laughed at that, short and sharp compared to Sirius’ low chuckle. “Uh, everything? And no, that’s what therapy is for.”
“Santé,” Sirius said with a grin, clinking their glasses together. “Alright, your turn.”
“Oh, I’d love to hear the answer to this one. Which one of us is the most successful and which one of us is the fuckup?”
“In whose opinion?” They sipped their juice at the same time. “I think we’re both pretty successful, but I know several people who would say we’re fuckups.”
“Like who?” Marlene asked off screen.
“Our parents,” Sirius said with a snort. “Alright, next question. What’s your biggest complaint about my current partner?”
“He’s quiet,” Regulus said without hesitating.
“You’re literally the quietest person I have ever met in my life.”
“Remus sneaks up on people, even when he isn’t trying!” he protested. “You need to put a bell on him. I came downstairs for water the other night and nearly had a heart attack when I turned on the kitchen light and he was already at the table.”
“Have you tried this amazing thing called a normal sleep schedule?”
“Shut the fuck up.” A balled-up wad of paper hit Sirius smack-dab in the forehead and he laughed. “What’s my biggest flaw?”
“Hmmm. You’re kind of bitchy sometimes.”
“Aw, thanks.”
“That’s not a compliment.”
“It is coming from you. I thought you were going to say something much worse.”
“Do you want me to? I can. You leave your laundry all over, you don’t know how to cook, you never text me back—”
“D’accord, I get it, I get it.” Regulus rolled his eyes.
“Have you—” Sirius sighed and covered his face with his hands. “Come on, Marlene, I can’t ask him this.”
Regulus kicked him lightly under the table. “Ask it, coward.”
“Have you ever heard me having sex? Please drink.”
“I lived with you for almost three months, of course I have,” Regulus scoffed as he took a sip of juice. “Honestly, it wasn’t as bad as the sappy flirting. That was gross.”
“It’s called ‘being in love’.”
“It’s called ‘being gross’, and I stand by that. Donne-moi les cartes. Who is stronger?”
“Noodle arms.”
“Fuck off, I’m stronger than you.”
“Oh, yeah?” Sirius set his elbow on the table and Regulus immediately grabbed his hand. “On three. One, two—”
He started pushing before he reached one and Regulus clenched his jaw; determination that usually only came out on the ice was etched on both their faces, though Sirius looked significantly steadier as he pressed down more and more. Finally, the back of Regulus’ hand hit the table with a low thud and Sirius whooped. “I’m still smarter,” Regulus grumbled as he flexed his fingers to get blood flow back into them.
“Sure you are, petit bébé. Well, I guess you can get your vengeance here: what’s your most mortifying memory of me?”
Regulus steepled his fingers under his chin and narrowed his eyes. “This is difficult, I can think of so many. Probably the time a seagull flew at you on the beach and you startled so bad you shoved your ice cream into your face. That was a beautiful moment.” Sirius cringed and Regulus looked back at the camera. “He was fourteen, if anyone was thinking this was a cute little kid moment.”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up—”
“Ooh, this one’s morbid.” Regulus raised his eyebrows at the final question. “If you had to choose one of us to die right now, who would it be?”
Sirius was visibly taken aback; he started to answer, then stopped and pressed his lips together. “Uh, me.”
“Really?” Regulus was clearly surprised.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“That…was not the answer I was expecting.” A more somber tone took over as he fiddled with the edges of the card.
“No?”
“No. You know, you’re—” He made a vague gesture. “Happy. Getting married. We didn’t talk for six years, and we weren’t exactly close before that.”
“Hey.” Sirius’ voice was soft as he squeezed Regulus’ hand. “Reg, you’re my little brother. I don’t want to even think about being in a world without you now that I’ve got you back.”
Regulus’ nose twitched and he took a long drink of apple juice. They sat quietly for a couple seconds until he cleared his throat and squeezed back. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
“Can we—are there more embarrassing questions?” he asked the camera crew, blinking rapidly. Sirius quickly wiped the edge of his eyes on his shirtsleeve. “Please tell me I can be nosy and invasive again or the car ride home is going to be so uncomfortable.”
“Yeah, we’ve got a few,” Marlene laughed, though her voice sounded a little tight. “This is a speed round, so I’m going to ask a question and you’re both going to answer on the count of three.”
“Sounds good,” Sirius said, shifting slightly in his seat.
“First one: who is your favorite cousin? One, two, three.”
“Andromeda,” they said in unison.
“Name your favorite parent. One, two, three.”
“Neither.” The two men high-fived.
“What’s your favorite drug? One, two, three.”
There was an awkward pause. “Uh, Claritin?” Regulus said at last, making Sirius laugh.
“Last one. You two are notorious for looking similar and being mistaken for twins. Have you ever slept with the same person?”
“Merde, I hope not,” Sirius blurted before she counted down. “I’m gay and he’s ace so there’s really no crossover.” Regulus’ shoulders shook with silent laughter, and his eyes widened. “What? What did you do?”
“I thought he told you,” Regulus practically cackled as the color drained from Sirius’ face.
“Who told me what?”
“You had gone out to walk the dog and didn’t tell Remus, and I was—I was in the kitchen getting lunch out of the freezer,” he snickered. “He thought I was you and smacked me right on the ass.”
“No.” Pure delight overtook Sirius’ horror as Regulus nodded.
“The look on his face when I turned around was priceless. Went sheet-white, like he’d seen a ghost.”
Sirius dropped his forehead onto his forearms, wheezing with silent laughter. “Regulus, can you sign us off?” Marlene giggled behind the camera.
“Yeah, sorry.” Regulus took a few deep breaths, but almost lost it when Sirius looked up again. “I’m Regulus Black and this is my brother, Sirius. Thanks for watching!”
244 notes
·
View notes
Text
— 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝.
| 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 | You thought up a devious prank you could pull on your boyfriend, you would pretend to buy an expensive ass item from Gucci or Chanel and have him pay with his credit card.
| 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Kageyama Tobio and Kuroo Tetsurou
| 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬) | None
| 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝.𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1.4k
| 𝐚𝐭𝐡.𝐭𝐱𝐭 | So I've been radio silent all this time.. but uh here 🤲 have Kags and Kuroo
[ Kageyama ] — 影山 飛雄
You were feeling devious, you woke up and chose violence. Looking beside you laid a sleeping Kageyama, you decided to give him a little heart attack this morning, grabbing your phone off the bed side table you started to ring up one of your friends. Was this a good idea? Maybe, but it's all harmless, is what you think anyways. Walking out of your shared bed room and headed for the kitchen, the person from the other side finally accepted the call.
"You up for a little prank this morning?" You asked, your lips tugging upwards, in a very scary smirk. "I can see your smirk from here Y/N, and of course, why not," Sugarwara answered, the tone he used was nothing but mischief. You briefly explained about the plan, he'll call you when you text him, pretending to be one of the staff from customer service asking for confirmation for the Gucci bag you ordered under Kageyama's credit card.
"Alright, well text when it's go time," He snickered, you knew you could count on him. "Alright thanks!" You said, hanging up after. Not long after, you can hear Kageyama's yawning from your bedroom, "Good morning," you greeted him, he flashes a small smile as he walks towards the island, standing across from you. "Good morning, I woke up and you weren't beside me.." he said. "Oh? You missed me already?" You decided to tease him a little. "No.." Kageyama answered, not very convincing.
After a bit more time passed you decided it was go time, texting Sugarwara 'It's game time 🤩🥳' the plan was on the move. Placing your phone back down, you waited for the phone call, Kageyama didn't suspect a thing. "Do you want pancakes or–" Kageyama's question was cut off by your phone ringing, "I'll answer this real quick okay?" You said, putting the phone call on speaker mode, definitely not suspicious.
Sugarwara put on his best 'Customer Service' voice, but he kept in mind that he was supposed to sound nothing like his actual voice. "Hello! This is Warasu Kai! I'd like to ask you about the confirmation for your order, the credit card's last four digits are 0323?" Sugawara was a great actor, you had to bite the inside of your cheek to prevent laughter from coming out as Kageyama eyes you suspiciously.
"Yes! That's correct," you answered, "Alright, that'll be $1810 for the Gucci Horsebit 1955 small shoulder bag," Sugawara said, Kageyama's eyes widen comically large. "Yes, thank you!" You ended the call, ready for whatever Kageyama was gonna say. But he stayed silent, you figured it was because of shock but he looked at you again.
"What?" You smiled being the little shit you are, "Last time I checked.. 0323 is the last digits of my credit card.." He said slowly, as if he's trying to convince himself that it's true, and it is. "Yup, I really wanted to buy that bag.." you said, eyeing his next moves. But he just closes his eyes, his hands gripping the sides of the table, inhales deeply and then exhales. "Alright," he said. "Alright..?" You tilted your head to the side, he opened his eyes to stare at you, his gaze softening. "Yeah, alright, you can buy that bag with my card, you deserve it love,"
You honestly didn't expect that kind of reaction from him, "You've been nothing but supportive of my volleyball career since high school, you've been there for me and took care of my stupidly stubborn self, so yes, it's alright for me to spoil you a bit.." he said, a faint blush dusting the apples of his cheeks. Your heart gets a little tug, he was so sincere with his words. "Actually, that was a prank.. Sugawara helped me out," you admitted.
Kageyama's eyes widened again, "F-For real? I.. I almost fainted from hearing the price," he let out a little chuckle, his knees unbuckled. "But, my point still stands, if you want that bag I'll get it for you," He regained his composure. "No need Kageyama, I'll be okay without that lousy bag," you waved your hand dismissively. Hopping off your chair to make your way to your boyfriend. Wrapping your arms around his waist, his hands automatically hugging you back.
"That was cute though, your little confession," You smiled at him, "And I meant it.." he softly smiled back at you.
[ Kuroo ] — 黒尾 鉄朗
Kuroo was currently in the washroom getting ready for bed when you decided to play with him for a bit, you called up your partner in crime (read: Hinata) and began scheming. Since Kuroo likes to spend a lot of time in the bathroom for god knows what, you had enough time to plot this prank of yours. You deemed yourself a genius and gave Hinata a virtual high-five, after 10 minutes, you hear the shower getting turned off.
You predict that he'll take another 5 minutes to dress up and such, "Alright Hinata, I'll message you when the prank is a go," You said, making sure your voice was low enough just in case Kuroo hears you.
"Alright! I'll be waiting! Hopefully this work-" You accidentally cut Hinata off as you heard the bathroom door opening, you don't know if it's the heater or is Kuroo looking really hot? You shake your head slightly, you can't get distracted now! You mentally prepare yourself, Kuroo's eyebrow lifts up as he gives you a questioning gaze.
"You alright?" He asked, you didn't notice how jittery you were being, not trusting your voice, you gave him a small nod. Kuroo seems to take that as a good enough answer and smiles at you. "Do you need the bathroom?" He asks again, "No, no need.. I just need to make a call," You said.
That must've gotten his attention, "Yeah? Go ahead baby,"
You narrowed your eyes at him before texting Hinata, 'He seems suspicious but call now! 🤩🤩' Not even a minute later, your phone started to buzz. Kuroo was now sitting at the edge of your bed, drying his hair with the towel that was draped over his shoulder. "Hello ma'am?" The voice over the phone (Hinata) greeted, "Yes hi! I just wanna ask about the Gucci sling bag that I ordered?" You managed to say without fucking it up.
"Oh alright! The $2000 one?" He asks, Kuroo looks over to you, his eyes widening a bit. "Yes, that one," you answered. "Well ma'am it's on the way, and the credit card last number that it's charged from is 0813 right?" He asks, knowing Hinata he was probably trying hard not to laugh.
"Yes yes," The next words was a blur to Kuroo as he wracked his brain for an explanation, 'Maybe she was mistaken?' he tried to reason with himself, "Hey Kuroo, you okay?" You asked, as the conversation with Hinata finished. "Yeah! I'm fine but.. I thought your credit card's last digits are 6282?" He asked, his fingers fiddling with the ends of the damp towel that now rests on his lap.
"Yeah, you see.. I thought you'd buy it for my birthday next week.." you lied, Kuroo on the other hand already had his present, it was the exact same bag that you were talking about and now he's getting charged double? "It's fine Y/N, I know how much you wanted that bag for your birthday, I'll let this one pass but ask me when you want to buy something. Especially if you're using my card alright?" He smiled.
You smiled back at him, but you couldn't keep up the facade as you started giggling, "Y/N? Did I say something wrong?" Kuroo asked, placing both of his hands on your shoulders. Your giggling fit erupted into full on laughing, you couldn't believe how nice your boyfriend was being. "Why're you laughing Y/N?"
Kuroo started chuckling himself, "Sorry, that was just really wholesome, this was a prank babe," You said, wiping an imaginary tear from your eye. Kuroo completely blanks out, "What?" He croaked out, you held up your hand onto his cheek, "I had Hinata's help with this prank," You said, "Oh that little sh–" You didn't let him finish his sentence as your jumped onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck, peppering his face with kisses, Kuroo holds you by your waist as he gives you a lazy smile.
"You don't have to get me anything for my birthday, maybe food but I'm fine with that!" You said, Kuroo shakes his head. "You deserve the best, so I'm getting you a present, whether you like it or not," He says.
"Alright then, let's get ready for bed?" You suggested, getting off of him. "Yeah, but I'm giving Hinata a piece of my mind tomorrow," He sighs.
#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu kuroo#haikyuu kageyama#kageyama tobio#kuroo testuro#kageyama x reader#kuroo x reader#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu headcanon#haikyuu fanfiction#hq kageyama#hq kuroo#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu fluff
129 notes
·
View notes
Text
5 star conversation (reggie peters x reader)
I SAW THIS REQUEST AND SCREAMED I WAS SO EXCITED!!
word count: 4.9k (i can’t believe i wrote that much omg)
5 star conversation masterlist
place one: a 1 star motel
“I can’t believe this!”
Julie and I gave each other warnings look as he leaned against each other. That was Flynn’s “Something is going wrong and it’s the other person's fault” yell, and with how stressful the bus ride was I could tell this was worse.
“What’s wrong?” Reggie leaned over in his chair, his hood covering his face as we hid from camera flashes in the corner of the fancy hotel.
Julie shrugged, looking back to her phone and the Instagram edits of the band she had been tagged in.
“Guys, guys,” Alex did a awkward jog as he came back from the bathroom, the iconic pink hoodie pulled over his head and the front of his baseball hat sticking out.
“What?”
“I don’t think we have rooms,” Alex fell back beside Luke, his anxiety radiating from one person to another.
“Huh?”
We’ve had the tour planned out for months, each state planned and perfectly laid out for the perfect amount of work and play. There wasn’t a chance that we didn’t have the room for tonight, impossible.
“Flynn is too smart for that,” I leaned back, ignoring the way Reggie still leaned forward while his elbows on his knees watching me. It was weird, I knew it was Reggie but the way he sat and the fact I couldn’t see his face made it feel like a different person.
“(Y/N) right, Flynn way to put together for that,” Julie brushed off, hitting my shoulder to show me the edit she had found. It was of Reggie and I from a few shows ago, Flynn had been taking videos to help keep the fan active on us and she caught a video of Reggie and I fake rocking out on the empty stage.
It moved from that to a picture of Reggie and me in the costume store for the Halloween show, little fairy-like hearts floating around us. I smiled at the thought, grabbing Julie’s phone and sending the edit to me.
“Well, we don’t have rooms,” Flynn walked back, not giving any warning as she collapsed on top of Julie and I.
“I told you!”
Alex stood up, pointing his finger between Julie and I, a little smirk forming before he realized the weight of the words.
“What happened?”
“They didn’t tell me that rooms held for over 2 months have to be reinstated two week before or they cancel it,” Flynn didn’t move, laying over Julie and I with a broken spirit.
“I was looking forward to sleeping in a room, those bed’s on the bus suck,” Luke crossed his arms and pouted, looking like a kicked puppy.
“I don’t mind them,” Reggie smiled, bouncing in his seat slightly.
“It’s because you’d never fallen off the top,” Alex bit back, still mad about the sharp turns that have sent him flying the last few nights.
Flynn finally moved off Julie and I, saying nothing as she typed away on her phone. She walked away without another word, looking us back in the corner with hoods up.
I played with the sleeves of my own hoodie that had the new Julie and the Pathoms merch sketch.
“Oh look at this one!”
Julie showed me her phone again, this time a thirst trap edit. Her excitement bought the boys attention to us, all moving to look over my shoulder at the edit.
It started with a few of Julie with her amazing stage gear and a few photos from her instagram, neon letters over her head read “The Singer''. Then jumped to the few videos and pictures of Flynn that Julie and I would post behind her back, this time the neon letters read “The Manager''. Next was my face, bright smiles and a few of me backstage with an old Sunset Curve tee and sweat rolling down my back, the words said “The Designer ''.
I read the caption, smiling at “They carry the band” and laughing as the guys talked about the story behind each photo.
“I took the one of you in my old shirt,” Reggie smiled, staying beside me with his arm around the back of my seat. I did my best to ignore the butterflies, which became easy when Flynn came back with a smile.
“I found a motel across the street that will take us,” she spoke with pride, rightfully so as she saved us from another night on that bus.
“Oh I love you,” Alex jumped up, his arms wrapping around Flynn in a heartbeat. Julie smiled, standing up and putting the phone in the pocket of her hoodie.
“Come on, up,” Reggie jumped up, holding a hand up from me as I had started to slip down in my seat. I smiled, taking his cold hands and standing completely up with a smile.
“Thank you Reginald,” I winked, following the others as we made our way to the front of the hotel. I could already hear the crowd waiting for us, their cameras probably at the ready to take some pictures of the uprising band.
“Hoods up soldiers,” Luke announced, keeping Julie close as they were already openly in a relationship so nothing too bad could be made out of them. Alex stood in front of me, Flynn close behind as Reggie was an inch behind me.
I said nothing when I felt a small hand on my back, too caught up in the loud voices and the calling of our names.
“(Y/N)! Is it true you are jealous of the band!”
“(Y/N), Did you sleep with lead singer Luke even with him dating Julie?”
“Are the rumors of Reggie and you true?”
I was thankful we had made it cross the sidewalk when a large bus cut them all off, giving up enough time to make it to the motel without a problem. I was thankful once we made it inside but not for long as I took the place in.
The plants in the corner were dead, the desk was dusty and the couches looked to be from the 1800′s, not the good kind.
“How many stars does this place have?”
“Uhm, 4?” Flynn voiced jumped up, saying nothing to us as she walked up and dinged the bell on the front desk. I rolled my eyes, pulling out my phone and opening it to Google.
“What are you goggling?”
“Google, and this motel,” I corrected Reggie, doing a quick search of my location and found the name of the rusty place. When I saw the rating I almost screamed.
“This place just barely has one star!”
“What,” Luke ran from the random statue he was messing with to my side, tugging the phone so he could read the reviews.
“Apparently they had a rat in a bed once,” I spoke, reading over the words in horror.
“Nope, I’ll stay on the bus,” Alex let his hands fall to his side, walking back to the door before he noticed that the camera flashes had almost doubled and no way he could make it out without a panic attack.
“Evening.”
When I heard the vile voice I jumped into Reggie's side without thinking, looking up at the older man who was looking Flynn up and down like meat.
“I need six room,” Flynn didn’t waste time, holding the credit card in between her fingers as she did her best not to be a coward.
“He looks like the witch from Hansel and Gretel,” I whispered into Reggie’s ear, ignoring the way his arm seemed to drift to my waist.
“I don’t know how that is but I agree.”
“We only have only three rooms, little lady,” the man spoke, reaching for the credit card before Flynn moved it out of reach.
“You told me on the found you had six,” Flynn bit back, I admired her confidence in this moment as everyone was slowly losing there the longer we stood in this lobby.
“The paparazzi will have fun with this,” Julie reached my side, looking over her shoulder and the few shots they could get through the windows of the dusty place.
“Got that right.”
“Fine, will bunk up,” Flynn gave up with the man, it wasn’t any use and we were all tired of setting up the stage and soundcheck today. I had spent hours hunched over the computer trying to get the mercy drop reaching tomorrow morning, my back sore and my head hurting.
The man passed Flynn the keys, after she watched him closely to make sure he didn’t charge us extra. She walked over to us, obviously annoyed but calming down the closer she got to us, she knew how to manage her anger until it was only Julie and I around.
“Julie and I will take one room, Alex and (Y/N) will take another-'' I smiled as Alex was my go-to room partner.
“-And Luke and Reggie got the last,” Flynn started handing out keys when Luke started to pout.
“Last time I slept in the same room as Reggie he talked the entire night,” Luke pointed at Reggie, causing the boy beside me to frown.
“You sleep talk? I’ve never heard it,” I shrugged and looked at Luke who was confident that “Reggie sleep talks”.
“Why can’t I take Alex and (Y/N) take Reggie?”
This felt so out of character for Luke, he never missed an opportunity to hang out with Reggie, they always bunked together. It was weird how everyone agreed, which felt even more out of character.
“Okay it’s settled,” I wanted to say something, as a night in a room alone with Reggie would be horrible for my crush, but I didn’t want Reggie to think nobody wanted to bunk with him.
Reggie shrugged, taking our key from Flynn and grabbing my go-bag I’d set on the ground of the dirty motel.
“I’ll get our bags, I know you’ll sit with Fylnn and Julie before you come up,” he didn’t sound mad or upset, he was smiling widely as he skipped to the elevator before stopping halfway through and going to the stairs instead.
“What a gentleman,” Luke winked at me, smirking between the group as if he had done something.
That’s when it hit me, he had done something.
“Oh, you liar,” I pointed my finger at Luke’s chest, my pout similar to his earlier as I looked up to someone I called a close friend, basically family.
“I did nothing of the sort, he did talk all night last time we bunked together but it was because we decided we wanted to pull an all-nighter,” Luke shrugged, looking at the other three in the loony, all smiling at me.
“You’re all vile people,” I spoke, looking to Alex who wanted to laugh so bad by the look on his face.
“And you, why would you do this to me?”
“Because I’m so tired of Reggie and you dancing around each other,” Alex gave me a stern look, making me deflate slightly but that didn’t stop me.
“We do not,” the group finally started to move again, since Reggie would already be in the room and we didn’t want him suspicious.
“Oh no, you’re the liar now,” Luke sang over my shoulder, grabbing his and Julie’s bag, Alex getting him and reaching for Flynn bag who insisted she had it.
“His hands were all over you this morning on the bus,” Julie jumped in, grabbing my shoulders and leading me through the stairway.
“He was teaching me how to play bass,” I crossed my arm, knowing this conversation wasn’t going anywhere.
“Reggie never lets anyone touch his bass!”
I rolled my eyes, they were all insane at this point.
“The reason there are so many ship edits of you guys is that you give them so much to work with,” Flynn said from the front of the group, a kick in her step about the entire idea.
“It’s because fans are crazy,” we had finally made it to the third floor, opening the door and all walking into the smelly hallways.
“It smells like a pack of cigarettes,” I almost coughed as I spoke, watching Reggie’s back open the door and slide into our room.
“You coming to sit with us?”
“No, I’m mad at you all,” I frown, but none of my friends worried as I’d forgive in the morning because they were impossible to stay mad at.
“Suit yourself, also he didn’t have any two bedrooms so have fun sharing a bed,” Flynn gave me a sweet kiss on the cheek and skipped to her and Julie’s room.
“I’ll kill you,” I yelled at Flynn as she walked into her room, Julie giving a sweet waver over her shoulder.
“I wonder if they have a mini-fridge,” Luke spoke, opening the door as the two boys gave me an exciting wave as if they weren’t making my life harder.
“(Y/N)? Why are you yelling?”
I looked down a door or two to see Reggie leaning against the doorframe of our room with a white tee and black and red plaid pajama pants.
He was going to be the death of me.
“Uhm, Fylnn told me they didn’t have a breakfast bar,” I did my best to lie, smiling as I made my way to the door Reggie leaned against, his little smile made me feel light and fluffy.
“I’ll get us one of the Ubers to take us to that little diner on the corner,” Reggie smiled, not moving from the doorframe once I reached it.
I didn’t want to slide past him but I did, doing my best not to come in contact with him as that may just make it worse but luckily he moved back so that didn’t happen.
“Thank god, I like the layout of it.”
I saw the single Queen bed in the center of my room and my heart broke as I thought about Fylnn’s words, she wasn’t just trying to get under my skin.
“Yeah, I know you love dinners that look like they are from the 50s.”
My heart shouldn’t have been on fire because of his words but it 100% was. He remembered those little quirks and it started to make me feel light-headed.
“Yeah they’re my favorite,” I smiled over my shoulder, reaching for my bag I had packed for the night in the motel, luckily bought my sleep stuff and asleep attire.
“There was one by my house back in the 90s, it was right out of that movie you had me watched,” Reggie fell back on the left side, leaving the right side open for me.
He knew what freaking side of the bed I slept on, I was going to combust.
“Grease,” I ignored the way his arms bulged as he laid them behind his hand, looking up at me as I looked through my bag for a few more things.
“Yeah that one, I think I should do my hair like David-“
“Danny,” I corrected as I made my way to the bathroom, leaving the door cracked so I could keep the conversation but still closed enough so I wasn’t worried about Reggie seeing me.
“Oh yeah, I should do my hair like him.” I smiled to myself, imagining Reggie dancing around as a Danny from Grease, the excitement he would have.
I tried not to think about how hot he’d look with his hair slick back.
“Do it for Halloween next year,” I spoke up, splashing water on my face to make me feel a little calmer.
“But I thought we would do a matching costume?”
I was going to scream and cry if he didn’t stop acting like the perfect boy. How do you lie because Reggie Freaking Peters and not fall in love with him?
“You could be Sandy!”
I felt myself smile again, looking down at the short and long shirt I had stolen from Alex that sat on top of the toilet.
“You can have red lipstick and those leather pants,” he sounded like a child that was just given candy, he was jumping just at the thought of the costume together.
“The fans would love it,” maybe it wasn’t the best idea to bring them up, but I couldn’t stop myself from saying it.
“They would! They’d probably talk about how cool you look for months,” I finally got the shirt over my head, looking at myself in the mirror, my nerves calming the longer the conversation went on.
Reggie wouldn’t make this awkward on purpose, I knew that.
“Yeah, but they’d like us matching. They wouldn’t let the dating rumor die though”, I stepped out from the bathroom, careful not to hit the creaking floorboard I found earlier.
“Oh, I didn’t think about that,” I watched his face fall and maybe my heart broke a little, but it was probably better. If it didn’t I would have possibly let this crush grow more and more and I didn’t need that.
“Eh, I don’t really care what the fans think.”
Heart please don’t explode, you have a merch drop tomorrow.
“Must be nice,” I fell back on the bed, laying the same way as Reggie as we looked at the ceiling that could probably fall in any second now.
“Why do you care?”
I watched him flip on his stomach out of the corner of my eye, him watching me but my eyes didn’t leave the ceiling.
“They just like making rumors with people that aren’t in the band sometimes more than the ones in the band. You four are more open than Flynn and I so they can only make so many rumors, but Flynn and I,” I trailed off, not knowing if he wanted this conversation to get too emotional.
“Yeah I noticed that, I mean you're cheating with Luke!”
I laughed at this tone, that definitely was a real crazy one that just started.
“I literally hit him in the head with the mic stand yesterday and kept walking and people think we’re dating”, I laugh at the afterthought, Luke's face when the mic stand went by his face. He was fine, but I didn’t have time to help him up and he understood that.
“That was great to watch, I haven’t seen Luke that confused since we landed here,” I spotted his show stopping smile in the corner of my eye.
“He’s a mess that’s why.”
“All three of us are a mess, without you, Julie, and Flynn we would be dead.”
“You’re already dead,” I tried to keep a straight face but as soon as I looked at Reggie my giggles filled the room, a hand on my stomach as I rolled over slightly.
“You’re horrible! You’re laughing at my death!”
I kept laughing, looking over at him a few times but it only caused me to laugh harder.
“I can’t believe I was excited to have a sleepover with you,” he had a goofy smile on his face as he watched me roll around.
“You 're excited,” I was finally calming down, trying to blame my racing heart on laughing.
“Yeah!”
He was so confident in his answer it felt like he meant it, like he wasn’t just being nice or just happy to be close with his friend.
Reggie liked being with people, he was a people person, and I was a person.
“I was excited too.”
Wow (Y/N) don’t you love your loud mouth.
He looked around my face, his eyes tracing my features with a smile painted across his face. I was shocked someone could be so happy like looked at me, but he did and it felt nice.
It was creepy or uncomfortable, nothing with Reggie ever was. He made everything feel easy, and maybe that’s why he has plagued my thoughts for so long.
“We should head to bed,” I could speak above a whisper with the way he was looking at me, the way his eyes traced my nose and my eyes.
“Yeah.”
We didn’t move, just watching each other as if it was supposed to be sleep for us. I wasn’t tired watching him like this, how could I be tired when he made me feel more alive than ever.
The loud knock on the door brought me out of my trace, my fear of what could be at the door had me moving closer to Reggie without thinking.
I felt the side of the move, Reggie slowly walking to the moldy wooden door with the small peep hole, or more like someone put a nail though and took it out.
He looked through it, reading to each for the candlestick before he rolled his eyes and swung open the door. Alex stood with an awkward smile, doing an odd dance before smiling at Reggie and I.
“Alex?”
“Can I use your bathroom?” I finally realized why he was dancing and smiled to himself.
“Sure but why?”
As soon as he heard my yes he pushed past Reggie, running into the thin wall bathroom without an answer until I heard him yell “Yes!”
“Our bathroom had some weird bug in the toilet and Julie and Flynn’s bathroom was connected to some weird old dude who fell asleep on the toilet,” Alex responded through the door, the excitement obviously in his voice.
“Looks like I got the good room,” Reggie smiled but I was hoping Alex would catch on to my comment and by the way he laughed I think he did.
“Shut up (Y/N)!”
Reggie knocked on the door jokingly as he passed, making his way back to the other side of the bed.
“How did Julie and Flynn get a conjoining room?”
“I don’t know and I don’t want to,” Alex yelled back, the sound of running water confirmed he was now washing his hands.
“You don’t have paper towels,” Alex opens the door, holding his hands in front of him as he looks like a kicked puppy.
“Use your shirt,” Reggie nodded at him, both him and I on our side as we watched Alex.
“It’s not mine! It’s Willie’s.”
“We won’t tell if you don’t,” I smiled back, giving Alex a wink.
“I accidentally told him,” Alex muttered as he started walking to the door, waving back at us and he left to go back to his own room.
As soon as the door shut I let myself laugh a little at my close friend, slowly reaching for the lamp and lifting the covers up. I could feel Reggie doing the same as the cold air hitting my skin when it moved and disappearing once it fell.
“Must I say, this motel isn’t that bad.”
I turned to look back at Reggie, the only reason I could see his face was because of the city lights from the window that danced across his face.
“What?”
“Don’t get me wrong, this place breaks every violation ever, but I think places like this bring out the best stories,” Reggie moved to look at me, his nose close to my own and he smiled at me.
I smiled, it was truly the Reggie-ish thing I had ever heard.
“I believe that,” I spoke softly, watching him again but this time the tension was thick, it felt so much calmer.
“Julie and Flynn will never forget the creepy guy, Alex and Luke will laugh about Alex blatter, and I’ll never forget the best sleepover ever,” each word brought a little larger smile on his face, my heart racing again at his words.
“I mean that much to you?” I said the words jokingly, placing a hand over my heart as I spoke but Reggie took it differently.
“Most definitely,” his words are soft, making my eyes grow tired as his breath fan across my face.
He was watching me again, this time he looked like an angel with the way the city light bounced off his cheeks and bought out his pink lips.
“Yeah?”
“Yep,” his face looked like it was moving closer to me but I knew better than to think that, but that didn’t crush that little hope in the back of my head.
“If you were there in the 90s, I’d probably still be alive,” eye contact was made and I thought I would jump him there.
“I wasn’t alive then.”
“I know, but you’re alive now and I feel alive,” Reggie shrugged as if his words didn’t mean everything to me.
Like he didn’t mean everything to me. I felt myself break eye contact, smiling like a fool as I looked to the tv that was barely hanging on the wall.
“You’re cold,” I spoke softly, because what else was I supposed to say?
“You’re warm,” as he spoke he grew closer to me, resting his head near my collarbone as he waited for me to speak but it never came.
“Can I lay my head on your shoulder?”
“Most definitely,” I repeated his rooms from earlier, smiling when I felt his hair brush my cheek and he drew close to me.
“Goodnight (Y/N),” he spoke softly, his words causing shivers to run up and down my spine like a track race.
“Goodnight Reggie.”
A loud bang on the door woke me up, causing me to almost fall from the bed if the hand that grabbed my shirt wasn't a tiger. His arms weren’t around me, simply holding me closer by my shirt, his head still on my shoulder as my head laid on his.
“Flynn has coffee!” Julie’s voice was joyus, making a smile spread across my lips. My friends knew me so well, my hands gently pulling Reggie’s fist from my shirt. I carefully pulled myself from the bed, tip-toeing across the room to the door. I didn’t even need to look through the peephole to know who was on the other side.
“Did you get a cup for your neighbor?”
Flynn smiled, dropped, and the coffee she held out to me was brought closer to her chest.
“And to think I gave you a kiss yesterday,” I rolled my eyes, reaching out for the coffee that was easy to pull from her hands.
“Luke and Alex are stealing breakfast from the hotel we were supposed to be staying at,” Julie brushed past me, stopping in her tracks when she noticed Reggie's sleeping body, obviously splashing on both sides of the bed.
“How are they doing that?”
“I don't wanna know, but I do wanna know what happened here last night,” Julie spun around, pointing at Reggie over her shoulder.
“We talked and went to bed,” I shrugged, doing my best to keep my voice down but it wouldn’t change anything, Reggie was a heavy sleeper.
“I thought you would make a plate on the floor or something,” Flynn spoke as she joined us in the room, slowly walking to Reggie and inspecting him.
“That felt rude,” I sipped on the coffee, smiling when I realized Julie and Flynn got my order right.
“Or,” Julie turned around, poking my side with a goofy smile. I rolled my eyes, my excitement from last night and the presents of my friends was sending me through the roof and I don’t think I could handle it much longer.
“Guys!”
I looked down the hall, smiling when I saw Alex and Luke breathing heavily with large bags of hopeful food in their hands.
“Is that from the hotel?”
“Of course,” Luke smiled as he slipped into the room, handing me one of the bags so I could place it on the small table in the motel.
“We got chased out but we did it!”
I laughed at Alex's face, the anxiety was obvious but the smile told me he was fine and there wasn’t much to worry about.
“Well well well,” Luke walked around the bed, smiling at Reggie’s sleeping form.
“Don’t say a word,” I opened one of the bags and pulled a small piece of pancake off, and threw it in the air, catching it in my mouth easily. Perks of being friends with Luke, he teaches great party tricks.
“Aren’t you two the cutest,” Luke came over to my side, waving Julie over to show me something on her phone. I looked over my shoulder, watching a new edit that was posted maybe an hour ago.
“Reggie and (Y/N) were seen awfully close leaving their hotel last night,” the E! News reporter said, the edit jumping to a meme I had seen of a dude crying. Next thing I knew pictures from last night flash across the screen, Reggie’s hand on my lower back. The edit jumped to other pictures of us joking around followed.
I smiled, turning back to the bag and pulling another piece of pancake out.
“Awh look at that,” Flynn pitched my cheeks, smiling at my as I laughed it off. Butterflies were flying through my stomach but I didn my best to hide it.
“What?”
Everyone turned to Reggie once sleeping form, his eyes scanning the room before he fell back to the bed.
“Did anyone knock?”
“We did,” Julie smiled, flopping on the bed so her head laid on his legs.
“I wasn’t informed,” Reggie sat up, looking at me with a grumpy frown. I shrugged, taking another bite of pancake while smiling at him.
“What? You wanted me to wake you?”
“Most definitely,” Reggie smiled, the conversation from last night still floating around his brain.
I nodded, looking down at my hands and thought back to the late night we had with nothing but calming security.
He was right, crappy motels brought the best memories out in people.

#reggie x y/n#reggie peters x reader#japt reggie#reggie peters#reggie tag#julie and the phantoms x reader#jatp x reader
204 notes
·
View notes
Text
Like Father, Like Daughter
Tony Stark x Daughter!Reader & Peter Parker x Stark!Reader
Requested by @ritiizzxxx : Hey I have a request can u do it where reader is Tony Stark's daughter and he has kept her a secret n when she was 15 and graduated from MIT and started creating her own tech then Tony decided to let the world know about her daughter. and also can u add some scenes where she's being sassy and sarcastic my father with all the Avengers.
Warnings: Swearing (maybe more than usual), fluff (kinda), and a bit of violence.
A/N: I’m not 100% sure if this was what you wanted, but I really hope you like it. As usual, I don’t own any GIFs and credit for the GIFs go to owner.
“Tony Stark, is it true that you have a daughter?”
“Is it Y/N?”
“Is Y/N Vulpine?”
Tony should have known that sending you to college at a young age would have major repercussions. You were already an intern at Stark Industries and after graduating at the top of your class at MIT at only fifteen year years old, he should have know that people would start to suspect something.
You majored in Physics and Engineering, just like him, but you also had a Masters degree in Business and Finance. Obviously, people would make the connections between you and him, but he never expected people to make the connection between you being Vulpine.
“What are you working on?” You looked up from your work station to see your dad walking up to you.
“Just something that analyzes an opponents fighting style and predicts their next moves and what their weaknesses are,” you say. You knew that you dad had created something similar, but not to exactly like this.
This automatically analyzes the way an opponent fights and tells you the best way to beat them in any area of combat. It would alert you if their form was ever off and would tell you the best way to use their weaknesses to your advantage.
Yep, you were definitely his daughter.
“I’m planning on installing it into mine and Peter’s suits so that we don’t repeat what happened in Symkaria.”
“What happened in Symkaria?” You freeze, suddenly realizing what you let slip. Your dad wasn’t supposed to know about Symkaria. You and Peter had agreed not to tell anyone about it because they’d probably never send you on a mission to a foreign country again.
“It was a disaster and you don’t want to know.” Your dad seemed to accept that before clearing his throat.
“So, listen. I am so proud of everything you’ve achieved,” he says. “You’re tough, smart, amazing, and-”
“What did you do?” You eyed him suspiciously. He tended to go overboard on compliments whenever he wanted something or did something he wasn’t supposed to.
“What? Nothing. I was just going to ask how you felt about the public finding out who you really are.”
You thought about it for a second. You were ready to let the world know that you were Y/N Stark, but at the same time, it could cause major problems. Just like how Peter’s made up name is Spider-Man, your is Vulpine. Vulpine was meant to be mysterious, mischievous, and somebody nobody knew anything about.
It made thing a lot easier when nobody knew who Vulpine was. You didn’t have to worry about people coming after you or your friends. Not that you couldn’t handle it, but the last time somebody found out who you were was a disaster.
“I’m not really sure how I feel about it,” You say thoughtfully. “I’m nervous that if they find out I’m your daughter that they might find out about me being Vulpine.”
“I know.” You knew that he understood where you were coming from. He had stopped trusting telling people that you were his daughter after someone had tried to use you against him. “I’m nervous about that too.”
“Y/N, the download is complete,” you AI says in a gravelly voice.
“What was that?” Your dad asks. “Did you make your own AI?”
“Yes, I did and his name is Cas,” you giggle, knowing that that your dad would know what you were talking about. Modeled the voice exactly like it sounded on TV.
“Like that guy on TV?”
“Yep.” You become serious again, because you needed to turn the topic back to the serious conversation you were having with your dad. “Anyway, before to tell the world that I’m your daughter, we need to figure out how to keep my Avenger identity a secret. People can’t know that Vulpine and I are the same person.”
Your dad had ended up setting up a meeting will all of the available Avengers. That included Clint, Natasha, Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Peter.
“We could say that Vulpine went on a vacation?” Clint suggests. He earns a few looks from people around the table for suggesting something so out of character for Vulpine to do.
“Why would Vulpine go on a vacation?” Peter speaks up. Out of everyone in the room, Peter knew the most about you and Vulpine. You were partners after all. Besides, Vulpine definitely didn’t seem like the vacation type.
“I don’t know?”Clint said as he looked at you nervously. “Even mischievous superheros need breaks.”
“Right, because that wouldn’t be suspicious at all,” you say. Around the table you see Nat, Steve, Sam, and Bucky nodding their heads in agreement with you. Under the table, Peter gently squeezes your hand.
“I thought it was a good idea,” Clint pouts.
“What about a look alike?” Peter asks. “While Mr.Stark introduces you as his daughter, we could have a look alike do something on the other side of the city.”
“That could work if we find someone who looks like me”, you say, nodding your head thoughtfully. “Wait a second!”
“What?”
“Peter, remember when we went to that Fleetwood Mac concert in California?” You ask. Peter smiles as he remembers the time the two of you spent in California. It was good timing because there weren’t any looming threats, Peter’s school was on break, and crime in New York had been pretty nonexistent while you were gone.
Excuse me, but when was this?” your dad asked. You really need to be better at keeping these things from your dad.
“Yeah, and we made clones of ourselves so that nobody would notice we were gone for a whole week!” Peter, ignoring your dad, says excitedly. You couldn’t blame him. You and Peter had a really great week.
“You made clones of yourselves?” Steve finally pipes up.
“They’re more like interactive holograms that we downloaded our daily routine and personalities into.”
“Definitely her father’s daughter.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you smile.
“Normally, I would ground both of you for running off for a week” Your dad starts. “but I’m impressed so I’ll let it slide.”
“Peter and I will probably have to go digging through my lab to find them first, but I’m sure we could get them ready.” You look at Peter, making sure he was okay with that.
“Great. You two do that. I’ll go schedule a press meeting.” The meeting pretty much broke up the second your dad left the room. You and Peter walked hand in hand to your lab that was right across from your room. You usually kept it pretty neat and tidy... except for the storage room.
It took about twenty minutes longer than you expected and Peter had to do most of the heavy lifting, not that you minded.
“I just realized how useful these could be,” you say as you and Peter begin to set up the ones modeled after yourselves. “Just think of all the prank we could pull everyone.”
“They could also be useful on missions. Like decoys,” Peter tells you. You may have graduated college when you were fifteen, but sometimes you wondered who the actual genius in this relationship was.
“Pete, your a genius!”
“Says the girl who graduated from MIT when she was fifteen,” Peter blushes.
“Says the boy who is way smarter than he let’s on,” you say back to him. Sometimes it was like he didn’t know how smart he really was. You knew for a fact that he is probably smarter than all of his teachers combined.
“Enough flirting! Just find your freaking clones!” Sam yells as he walks past your room.
“After what happened in Symkaria, I can flirt with whoever I want!” You yell back. Yeah, Symkaria ended up being a disaster, but at least it was the push you and Peter needed to confess your feelings for one another.
“But just me, right?” Peter asks.
“Just you.” You plant a soft kiss on his cheek before the two of you get back to work.
The next morning, you and Peter sent your “clones” to Brooklyn while you and Peter went to the press conference that your dad had set up. You couldn’t believe how crazy these reporters were asking. It was a lot of one talking right over the other so you couldn’t understand a single thing any of them were saying. Finally, your dad had somehow managed to shut them all up
“You all ask if Y/N is my daughter, and it’s easy to see why.” Your dad gets started on the speech that Pepper had made for him, but then he puts the cards down, planning to talk for himself. “She is gifted, talented, probably smarter than me, and an overall amazing person. She has created tech that I have never even thought of and she’s been an intern at Stark Industries since she was only eight years only. Y/N Stark is my daughter.”
“Is Y/N Vulpine?” a blonde reporter asks. That causes the other reporters to stark buzzing out questions too before your dad quiets them again.
“Y/N is not-” Before he could finish, you spot an all too familiar looking face. Freaking Symkaria.
“Fucking shit!” You say, letting your frustration out before the Symkarian guard pulls out a sword and approached you and your dad with it. Peter tries to stand protectively in front of you (you’re pretty sure he just wants to get back at the guard for what he did) but you push Peter away. He doesn’t have his web shooters or his suit.
Luckily, you were trained by both Nat and Bucky. Each time the guard swung the sword at you, you were able to dodge it with ease. Working around the guard as he kept swinging at you, you sneakily removed his belt. After you had it, you wrapped it around his hand that he held the sword with, effectively causing him to drop his weapon.
“You will never get away with what you did.” The guard hisses out at you with his German-like accent. “Prince Adonis will have his revenge.”
“Seriously?”You dad asks looking amused. “Whatever happened to ‘the world must never know’”
“That was before I was attacked,” you shrugged. There was no way in hell that people would believe that you and Vulpine were two separate people now. You literally just disarmed a Symkarian guard on live TV. “Would you like to do the honors?” you ask you dad, giving him permission to tell the world.
“The truth is...” he begins but you decided, for dramatic effect, to interrupt him.
“I am Vulpine.”
A/N: Again, I’m still not sure if this was what you wanted, @ritiizzxxx , but I hope you still like it.
#tony stark x daughter!reader#tony stark x daughter reader#tony stark x platonic!reader#avengers#avengers x reader#avengers reader insert#peter parker x avenger!reader#the avengers#vulpine#peter parker#peter parker x reader#tom holland peter parker#peter parker x reader insert#peter parker x stark!reader
477 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stark Spangled Banner
Stab Me In The Front
Part 1: America’s Asshole
Intro: It’s been a year since Katie was held hostage by Hydra, and whilst she’s still working through her feelings she has an idea about how she can make other people’s lives better as a result of her ordeal. Alongside this, she needs to take a trip to Boston to meet Harlan Thrombey-SIP’s latest author. Slightly nervous about taking a business trip alone after what happened last time, Steve offers to go with her.
What could possibly go wrong?
Warnings: Bad language. SMUT (NSWFW)
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
A/N: So, here we go. This was a request/idea from @icanfeelastormbrewing for an Avengers/Knives Out Cross Over where Katie and Steve come face to face with America’s Asshole! The tongues are sharp and the knives are out! This is set in 2015 so way before the KO storyline so therefore contains no spoilers!
Oh, @angrybirdcr I bloody love this edit and banner- the edit you have named the Ransom pre- Steve-Rogers-fucked-my-face-after-I-called-his-wife-a-hoe edit...
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.
Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist
October 2015
“So, Mr Thrombey, that’s all confirmed.” Katie tapped at a key on her computer to lock the meeting in her calendar. “11 am, Next Thursday, the 15th ”
“I’ll send you through the zip code and location for your GPS.” Harlan responded “The house is just outside of Lincoln, not far from Pierce Park. It shouldn’t be too far for you if you’re staying at the Harbor.”
“Thank you.” Katie smiled as she spoke into her phone.“I look forward to meeting you on Thursday Sir.”
“Oh, less of the Sir, Harlan please. And the pleasure is all mine Miss Stark, I mean, Mrs Rogers, my apologies!” The man chuckled. “And thank you for accommodating my need to pull this meeting forward by a few days.”
“It’s not a problem.” She assured him. They exchanged pleasantries again and then she cut the call and leaned back in her chair, cracking her neck, before she double checked the travel arrangements. The hotel was booked, flight was sorted, hire care was confirmed. All that she needed to do was not forget the annotated manuscript or the cover ideas.
The door to her office opened and she looked up to see Tony leaning in the doorway, waving a Starbucks cup at her, along with one of their familiar brown paper bags, clearly bearing treats.
“I love you, bro!” She smiled at him as he wandered in, chuckling, placing the drink and paper bag down in front of her. She looked into the bag and gave a moan when she saw it was a rather large, gooey looking brownie, and gave a bigger moan when she sipped her drink and found it to be a Pumpkin Spiced Latte. “Perfect Elevenses!”
“Well thought you might need one, you’ve been locked in here since seven this morning…”
“You got FRIDAY spying on me?” She narrowed her eyes at him.
“No.” He denied, but at the same time the AI affirmed her suspicions.
“He has indeed had me watch you, Mrs Rogers.” “Traitor.” Tony rolled his eyes and Katie chuckled
“Well I had all this Harlan Thrombey stuff to sort, Steve’s still in Copenhagen with Sam chasing the alleged latest sighing of Bucky.” She shrugged “Not much point in lying in when you’re wide awake is there?”
“True.” Tony nodded. “Are you going back to the Compound tonight?”
“I might just stay here again if that’s ok?”
“Kiddo, you own part of this Tower, it’s always gonna be your home too.” Tony shrugged, “You can stay as long as you want.”
“Thanks Tone.” she smiled. She didn’t want to admit it, but she felt safer in the Tower whilst Steve was away, even thought it was ridiculous as the Compound was just as secure, being closer to her brother was a comfort.
“I haven’t forgotten what tomorrow is.” Tony looked at her.
Neither had she. It was a year to the day since Bucky had pulled her out of that shithole in Canada and rescued her from her ordeal at the hands of HYDRA. With a little sigh, Katie pulled off her glasses, a lasting consequence of her period of capture and torture. Ever since spending six weeks in that constantly lit cell she’d needed glasses for anything that required a long period of concentration on a computer screen or monitor if she wanted to avoid migraines. Bruce seemed to think it was something to do with the fact that her cell had been painfully bright all the time and that continued exposure to artificial light in such a way triggered a subconscious response.
She ran a hand over her face and looked at her brother, swallowing down the sudden spike of emotion, and swallowed.“I’ve been trying not to think about it.” she said gently.
“Which is why I booked you and Pepper into the Dominick for the afternoon.” Tony smiled at her, reaching over to take her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Well, Pepper has, I’ve just given her the credit card. Apparently you’re in for a full deep tissue massage, facial and then Franco’s booked to do your hair, oh and don’t bother telling me you’re busy as I had your diary cleared and everything reschedule to next week” He sat back, watching as she opened her mouth before shutting it, shaking her head softly. “You leave in thirty minutes.”
“You spoil me.” She smiled softly.
“Anything for my girls, plus I thought it might keep you busy whilst Spangles is otherwise engaged.”
“He was hoping to be back but when I spoke to him before he doesn’t know if he’s gonna be.” she shrugged. “It is what it is.” Tony smiled at her before he stood up “Yes, it is. And this afternoon is your pamper time so get your shit together and meet Pepper downstairs.”
“Yes sir.” she said, saluting him with a grin.
****
As with anything Pepper or Tony booked, the spa was off the scale. Katie had been meaning to go for ages, and now, as she sat in the chair in Franco’s salon she was already searching available dates to go back. She laughed and joked with the stylist and Pepper, the pair of them enjoying yet another bottle of champagne as they had their hair done. A couple of hours later, at just gone seven, Pepper dragged her out over the road and into a ridiculously expensive wine bar.
“Feeling better?” Pepper asked as Katie took a huge gulp of her Sancerre.
Katie smiled. “Much, thank you.” “You know, I’m always here if you want to talk to someone other than Steve about stuff.” Pepper looked at her “And it won’t go any further.”
“That’s the thing, I don’t wanna talk about it.” Katie sighed “You know, Pep, I see all these women out there that went through…well, you know, and I read their testimonies and I just wonder how they’re so strong, like, how can they can just stand up and talk about it?” She trailed off, shaking her head “And me? I just wanna pretend it never happened. So much for being an Avenger huh?”
“Hey.” Pepper shook her head, looking at her sternly. “Stop that, right now.” “Well it’s true.” Katie shrugged. “I mean, I’m a public figure right? But all people know is I was missing for weeks, and it was put down to a mission gone awry. I just, well, I feel like I should be out there, trying to make a difference, helping people.”
“Kiddo, what you went through,” Pepper swallowed, “I can’t even begin to imagine. And how you’ve dealt with and processed it, well, frankly I don’t know how you’ve been so strong. There is no shame in wanting to simply move on and leave it in the past.”
“I know.” Katie sniffed a little. “Thank you. Having everyone around me makes me realise how lucky I actually am. I’ve got a huge support network. Not everyone who goes through…well, not everyone has that to fall back on.” Pepper pondered something before she looked at Katie, “You know, we haven’t picked our Partner Charity for the Stark Relief Fund next year. We could make it one that deals with Sexual violence. No need to go into details as to why.” Katie considered that for a moment, before she nodded. “That’s not a bad idea.” She clicked her deep purple manicured nails against her wine glass, thoughtfully. “It would make a difference, right?”
Pepper nodded. “Absolutely. Give it some thought, see how you feel.” “I will, thanks.” she smiled.
****
Steve was exhausted but wasn’t willing to spend another moment away from his wife. So the moment the jet was down he headed straight for the garage, jumped on his bike and roared out of the compound heading down town towards Manhattan.
“Good Evening Captain Rogers.” FRIDAY greeted him as he pressed his palm to the access pad at the rear entrance from the underground car park “Mrs Rogers is in your apartment.”
“Thanks FRIDAY.” he said, as the elevator began to rise. It stopped a few floors up, and when the doors flew open he was greeted by Tony who was undoing his tie.
“Oh, you’re back.” He looked at Steve appraisingly.
“You’re up late.” Steve remarked in response.
“Just working on a few things.” Tony said vaguely. “How was the search for Tin Man?” “Well, it was him alright.” Steve ran a hand down his tired face. “Few more leads to work on. We could have stayed out there for a bit longer truth be told but, well, I wanted to be here tomorrow, you know.”
The two men shared a moment of understanding, both of them having experienced unsurmountable raw pain and anguish over the weeks Katie had been missing and it wasn’t something they were likely to forget any time soon. If ever.
“She know you’re home?” Tony looked at him again. Steve shook his head.
“Wanted to surprise her.”
Tony smiled softly. “She’s probably asleep. Her and Pep have been in the Spa all afternoon and they’ve drunk a lot so…”
Steve gave a huff of a laugh. “Yeah she messaged me before saying you’d sent her there out for the afternoon. From the spelling mistakes in the text I figured there was a fair amount of alcohol that had been consumed.” He paused and smiled. “That was really thoughtful of you, Tony.” “Well it happens occasionally.” Tony sniffed as the elevator stopped at his floor. “Listen, Steve…” Steve turned to face him. “She’s not been herself the last few weeks.” Tony scratched at his beard and Steve took a deep breath.
“I know.” he said gently “I think she’s just, well, processing, if that’s the right word. We only got back from our honeymoon three weeks ago, and it kinda hit her when we got back just what time of year it was. Whilst we were away she didn’t have time to think about it.”
“Just, well, take care of her for me okay?” Tony looked at the Soldier and Steve nodded.
“Always Tony, you had my word on that when I told you I wanted to marry her, and I meant it.”
Tony nodded and clapped him on the shoulder, giving him a look of thanks before he left the elevator on the Part Floor level. It began to rise again and Steve let out a soft sigh. Tony was right, the last two weeks in particular Katie had been a little quiet, less vivacious, almost withdrawn even. At first he had put it down to post honeymoon blues, but Natasha had pointed out that this time twelve months ago she had been at the mercy of HYDRA, with those bastards brutalising her in ways that he couldn’t even bring himself to think about. For this reason, he’d been reticent to go on the latest mission but Katie had insisted, pointing out that they couldn’t not carry on with their lives and that she would be alright.
The fact she had basically moved back into the Tower for the three days he had been gone, however, made him think that she wasn’t quite as alright as she had told him.
The doors opened on their floor and he stepped out. It was mostly dark as he headed through to the bedroom where he found that the TV was playing on the wall, but Katie was fast asleep, one of the pillows clutched to her chest as a makeshift cuddle partner. With a soft smile he closed the door and headed over to the bed. Kicking off his boots he lay on his side, facing her, and brushed her soft hair back off her face before pressing a kiss to the bridge then tip of her nose and finally her lips.
She stirred, her face scrunching up in that adorable way it always did, before she blinked her eyes open. It took her a second to focus but when she did her lips curled upwards into a soft smile which became an ear to ear grin.
“Hey, Sweetheart.” He said softly, kissing her again, his hand cupping her face.
“You’re home.” She reached up to lay her hand over his. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”
“Wanted to surprise you.”
“Well it worked.”
“I missed you.” He whispered, his thumb caressing her cheekbone as he leaned in for another kiss.
“Missed you more.” She shot back, her lips brushing his and he chuckled.
“Doubt it. How was the Spa?”
“Oh it was amazing.” She gushed, her eyes shining. “I had this deep tissue massage and the guy hit spots on my back I didn’t even know I had. The facial was great, and my hair…”
“I like the colour.” He smiled, gently moving his hand so he twirled a piece around his finger. The ends were slightly lighter than usual, almost a dark honey blonde, and it extended a little up the strands before evening out.
“It’s called ballayage.” She smiled at him. “I just fancied a bit of a change.”
“Looks good on you. And I’m glad you had a nice time, you deserve it.”
“How was the mission? Worth it?”
“Yes and no.” Steve shrugged. “We have a few more leads we can chase up but…” he took a deep breath “I’m beginning to wonder what the point is. He clearly doesn’t wanna be found.”
“The point is he’s your friend, your brother.” Katie moved her hand to run her fingers over his jawline, the pads scratchings lightly against his five-oclock shadow. “Maybe he just needs a bit of time to find himself first, that doesn’t mean you have to give up on him. Besides, I need to give him back his jacket.”
“And I need to thank him. For getting my beautiful girl out and safe.”
“I can’t believe it’s been a year tomorrow since he found me.” She said softly
“Is that what’s been bothering you?”
“Huh?”
“The last few weeks you’ve not been yourself.”
She licked her lips and nodded “Yeah, I just, well, I didn’t give it much thought when we were on our honeymoon, you know, but since coming back and ramping up the Thrombey Campaign it’s kinda hit home a little.” And suddenly Steve understood. SIP were publishing the man’s latest book, “The Colour of Revenge” which was all about a Detective on the trail of a killer who was hunting down and dispatching of six men who had been acquitted of a gang rape and murder.
“Shit.” He let out a groan at the fact he hadn’t made the connection. “Honey, I’m so stupid not to realise that.” “Hey.” She frowned, “Don’t…” She reached up and smoothed the lines that had appeared on his brow and he let out a sigh, gently reaching up to lace his fingers with hers, bringing her hand towards him and placing a soft kiss on her wrist. “It’s better now you’re home.” She assured him gently.
He smiled and gave her a gentle kiss again.
“Is that everything?” He pressed and she hesitated again.
“I’m scared.” She admitted eventually, looking at him.
“Scared of what?”
“Going away, on my own.” The tears welled in her eyes. “I hate that they made me like this, Steve.”
He let out a sigh, he hated that she was scared too. She didn’t deserve it.
“Why don’t I come with you?” He asked, the idea suddenly forming in his mind. Katie stilled for a moment and he continued. “Not to the actual meeting, but I can drop you off and pick you up, hang around, whatever you want me to do.”
She looked up at him smiling softly, not even trying to pretend she wasn’t relieved he had offered. “Would you?”
“Of course.” He nodded, wiping the tears off her face. “You only had to ask.” “I didn’t want to. I know how busy you are here and…” “That can wait.” He held her face in his hands as he drove his message home. “You’re the most important thing in my life and if me coming with you makes you feel better then…” He shrugged “Besides, I’ve always wanted to go to Boston.”
“I know we haven’t been back from our honeymoon long, but maybe we can make a little trip out of it if you like?” Her face was suddenly hopefully “Come back on the Saturday?”
“Sure.” Steve smiled at her. “Let’s do it.”
“Oh, Stevie you’re gonna love it.” she beamed, and he smiled at the way her face had gone from being furrowed with worry to alive with excitement. “Massachusetts is amazing in the fall and Boston is just stunning…” “Well I’ll make sure I bring my sketch book.” He smiled “Give me something to do whilst you’re in the meeting.” “Thank you.” She said softly. “I’ll book us somewhere nice to eat one night. Give us an excuse to wear something pretty.”
“Like you need an excuse.” He teased, and she nipped him harshly on the arm. He chuckled and then with a groan he unwillingly pushed himself up off the bed.
“I need a shower.” He said, almost apologetically. “I won’t be long.”
“You better not be.” She muttered and he smiled, dropping a kiss to her forehead before he headed into the bathroom.
True to his word, he wasn’t long. Five minutes, tops. But by the time he came back, the TV was off and Katie was fast asleep. Thinking back to what Tony had said, he found himself wondering if she had actually slept much at all whilst he was gone.
Steve dried himself off, stepped into a clean pair of boxers and then slid into the bed next to his wife, slipping his arms around her. Once her back was nestled snugly into his chest, he dropped a soft kiss to her neck and closed his eyes, happy to have her in his arms.
****
Steve woke the next morning to find his girl tangled around him. She’d shifted in the night, clearly, and now her face was pressed into his chest, right leg snaked between both of his, her right hand was slid under his arm, lightly gripping his shoulder whilst her left rested against her head, fingers in her hair. Smiling to himself he pulled her closer, relishing the feel of her against him. She murmured something incoherently as she gently moved, her cheek pressing into the hair on his chest, the hand around his shoulder slid down to the base of his back where her fingers simply rested, soft against his spine as she continued to sleep.
And Steve was quite happy to let her nap for longer, using him as her own personal cuddly toy.
He dozed in and out of consciousness again, drifting off for another ten minutes or so, before he felt Katie stirring in his arms, and a soft kiss gently being pressed to his jaw line. He smiled at the contact and tightened his hold on her again, his eyes still closed.
“Morning, Beautiful.” He said softly, his voice still thick with sleep.
“Morning, Soldier.” She said, her cheek returning to his chest as she basked in the safety and warmth of his hold as his hand crept up the back of the stolen shirt she was wearing, his rough fingers ever so gentle against her skin as he trailed the pads up and down her spine.
“Sleep okay?” He asked, his eyes still not opening.
“Yeah.” She assured him, truthfully. It had been the best night sleep she’d had in days.
“Good. What do you fancy doing today?”
He felt her still and then she pulled back slightly, and at that he opened his eyes and blinked to see those gorgeous emeralds locked onto him.
“Are you not needed at the Compound?”
He shook his head “Kitten, I’ve not seen you for almost three days so I figured we deserved one together.”
She groaned “I have meetings this morning.” “That’s okay, I’ll meet you at lunch.” He said, tucking her hair behind her ear.
She didn’t argue. She knew full well why he’d taken the time out, and frankly she adored him for it. Without saying a word she leaned up and captured his lips in a gentle kiss that quickly became heated, but was shattered by the piercing noise of Katie’s alarm.
She gave a groan, and made to move.
“Don’t you dare.” Steve mumbled against her mouth, his grip on her tightening.
“Stevie,” She sighed “I gotta…”
He reached over, his large body flattening her into the mattress making her giggle as he swiped across the screen of her StarkPhone silencing it.
“You ain’t gotta do shit.” He said, hovering over her on his elbows. “Except me.” He added as an afterthought.
“Oh so you’re gonna to explain to the board why I’m late?”
“Well, to be honest,” he said, dipping his head to trail hot kisses up the side of the next, “they probably won’t even notice you’re not there. I mean, are you really that important?”
“Fuck you.” She giggled back.
“Believe me, I’m tryin’” he quipped, his mouth nipping at her ear lobe. That made her giggle even more and she felt his lips curve into a smile against her skin.
“I love it when you do that.” He whispered gently, using his leg to part hers, leaving a large thigh pressed against her mound.
“What?”
“Laugh.” His mouth moved up her jaw line. “It makes me happy.”
“You’re such a sentimental sap.” She mumbled, as his lips claimed hers again, the heat between her legs intensifying as the kiss grew deeper, tongues lashing against one another. Steve pulled back for long enough to pull his shirt over her head before his lips returned to hers and Katie’s hand slid into his hair, one hand gently winding into the longer locks on top, her nails on the other dragging against the hairline on his neck. His hands moved, one gently cupping the side of her face, the other, gently skimming over her breast, her nipples already hardened. He gently teased one with the pad of his thumb and his mouth moved down to the other, his tongue and fingers working in tandem. She gave a little involuntary twitch against his thigh and once more his lips quirked up into a smirk.
“You want something, Baby girl?” He asked, peeking up at her and she nodded.
“Stevie, don’t make me beg, please.”
And when she asked so nicely like that, how could he ever refuse? He hooked his fingers into the sleep shorts she was wearing and worked them down, before flipping down the waist band of his boxers. Katie bent her legs as he shuffled upwards and worked into her, the pair of them letting out a groan each at the stretch as he buried himself to the hilt. Steve’s hands fell to either side of Katie’s face as he held himself up on his forearms, kissing her deeply as he flexed his hips forward, again and again, picking up a gentle rhythm.
It was soft, it was gentle, it was loving, everything she knew her soldier to be and it wasn’t long before he had her writhing and groaning loudly, his lips assaulting that spot on her neck.
“So good,” he groaned, his thrusts getting deeper. “Feel so good, Sweetheart.”
“Keep talking.” She keened, arching into him as her hands raked down his back.
“You were made for me, God I love you Mrs Rogers. So fucking much.” His words were punctuated by his heavy breaths as she gave a soft cry, her head falling backwards, eyes fluttering shut as she tightened around him, her legs shuddering slightly as she came.
“Atta girl.” He panted, his hips becoming faster as he thrust through her orgasm, chasing his own. It wasn’t long before he felt the ribbons in his belly unravel and he came with a cry of his own, his head buried in her neck, hips slowing, thrusts going deeper before he eventually stilled, a loud contented sigh escaping his mouth.
After a few moments of them simply basking in the afterglow, Katie’s hands trailing through Steve’s ruffled hair as his nose slid against hers, she gave a sigh and pushed on his shoulders gently.
“Soldier, I really do need to get up.”
He pouted a little causing her to chuckle before he rolled off her and she pushed herself out of bed, heading for the en-suite. Steve watched her go before he swung his legs from under the covers,, found his boxers, pulled them on and headed down to the kitchen to make them both some coffee. *****
The idea had sprung to Katie as she’d headed out for lunch. The local shop was donating a percentage of its earnings that month to a homeless charity, and it set her mind whirring.
“So you want to donate, all the profit we make, from what is going to likely be the biggest book SIP will ever publish, to charity?” Tony looked at her.
“In a nutshell, yeah.” She nodded. “We can split it across various charities, all those that help victims of sexual assault, abuse or crime…”
“Isn’t that what the Stark Relief Fund is for?” Saul, the SI Finance Director looked at her and she turned to face him.
“Yes, but it isn’t just about the money, it’s about raising awareness.” She pressed “A lot of people don’t know those charities existed. Hell, I didn’t know about half of them until a year ago. If we do this, think of the publicity and the press and…”
She trailed off, looking at Tony. He could see the excitement shining in her eyes. She had a point, and it wasn’t like SI needed the money. SIP was her company after all, and if she wanted to use it to do something good, help people, maybe even help herself…then that was fine by him.
He shrugged and looked round the table “SIP’s vision was never about making money.” Katie beamed at her brother as she realised he was backing her “It was always about helping those who needed a hand to get their work out there…I don’t see why in this case, where they author is already so well-known we can’t use that to help those who need it.”
There was a pause and she looked expectantly round the table. One by one the board members seemed to concede, all of them that is bar their Legal Manager, Dan Robertson who was frowning.
“You’re going to have to bring Mr Thrombey on board Mrs Rogers.” He looked at her. “We can’t just use his book as part of a campaign without his permission.” “I know.” She assured him. “I’ve already realised that. I’m meeting him on Thursday next week, I’ll have a full proposal and pitch ready.”
There were a few murmurs around the table before Tony spoke. “Is that it? Are we settled?”
Everyone looked at one another, nodding, and Katie leaned back in her chair, smiling.
But, she wasn’t smiling now. She had less than twenty-four hours before they set off for Boston and her pitch was only half way through completion.
“Sweetheart.” Steve’s hands slid over her shoulders where she sat on the chair in her office. She looked effortlessly elegant, even in sweats and an off the shoulder sweater, one toned leg stretched out in front of her, the other bent at the knee so her foot was resting on the seat of the chair, her left hand was curled around her shin, her right was tapping at her keyboard, the dark blue framed glasses perched on her nose. “It’s late.”
“I know but,” she sighed, “this means a lot to me Steve. I need it to be right.”
Steve knew better than to argue. Instead he leaned over and kissed the side of her neck. “What are you stuck with?”
“I dunno it just…it all seems so impersonal.” She removed her glasses and wrinkled her nose as he sat down in the arm chair in the corner of the room “Facts and figures on sexual assaults and stuff, we all know it happens, it’s about making people want to do something about it.”
“Are you ready to make it personal?” He asked gently, taking a deep breath. He hated thinking about what she had gone through, he truly did, and if he had half a chance he’d rip the bastards limb from limb. But if she was ready to confront what had happened to her, he had to be there to support and back her all of the way, regardless of his own feelings.
“I don’t know. I was talking to Pepper about this the other day. I should be able to, I should be someone other women can look up to, being an Avenger and all but…maybe I’m just not strong enough.” “You’re the strongest person I know.” Steve leaned forward and locked eyes with her.
“I don’t feel like it when it comes to this.”
“Honey,” he scratched at his head. “Without wanting to sound flippant, since January this year, you’ve been, okay, well maybe okay isn’t the word but you’ve gotten on with things. You’ve moved forward, we both did.”
“Because we were busy, and we had no choice…”
“Well maybe,” he shrugged. “But chasing down a sceptre, fighting Ultron, mobilising a new base, planning a wedding, running a business…it’s all time consuming, stressful stuff that if you really weren’t strong enough to deal with what happened, then it would have all gone to shit and probably tipped you over the edge into a nervous breakdown.”
She brushed a piece of hair behind her ear as she considered what he was saying.
“Honestly…” he continued, his eyes boring into hers. “If you want my opinion I think the fact that it’s the year’s anniversary of what happened that’s playing on your mind a little. You need to stop, look back and how well you’ve done and stop beating yourself up about all the things you haven’t”
She smiled softly and looked down at her hands before she glanced back up at him “When did you get so wise?” He chuckled “Well I am ninety seven years old.”
She laughed “You don’t look a day over twenty five.”
Steve smiled and stood up. “I’m gonna make you a hot chocolate, and you’re gonna stop overthinking everything and come relax. We’re up early tomorrow. You can do the rest at the hotel tomorrow evening.” “No can do, we’re going out.” Katie grinned at him “I booked the Chef’s table at Menton.”
“The what?” Steve frowned.
“You never heard of a Chef’s table?” She looked at him, and he shook his head. “Oh my God I’ve let you down, so badly. Check this out.” she tapped on her computer, bringing up the website and showed him the photos “It’s a private table with a glass wall that gives you a direct view into the kitchen. Totally impossible to get a reservation unless you book like a year in advance. Or name drop.”
Steve groaned. “You seriously dropped the Captain America wants a table line?”
“No, I dropped the Captain America’s wife want a table line.” She smirked, closing down the browser page.
“Pain in my ass.” Steve grumbled, standing up. But as he left the office there was a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
One that his wife had seen.
*****
“So, was it worth a name drop?” Katie asked as they walked back into the Fireside Lounge located in their hotel.
“I’m happy to overlook the fact you acted like a total brat to make that reservation, yes.” Steve grinned as he went to remove her coat from her shoulders. He looked her up and down, the tight black jump suit she was in was driving him crazy.
She grinned, and then shivered slightly.
“Cold?” He asked, frowning.
“A little, don’t wanna sit in my coat though.”
“Do you want me to nip up to the room, grab your cardigan?”
“Would you?” She asked, even though she knew perfectly well he would.
“Course.” He dropped a kiss to her cheek “You get the drinks in, be right back.”
She headed over to the bar. The bartender, Will, was the same one who had been on before so he greeted her with a smile.
“Mrs Rogers. How was your meal?”
“Fantastic thank you.” She smiled. “Can I get two Bourbon’s please? I’ll leave it to your choice, I’ll be back in a second, just need to nip to the bathroom.”
She excused herself and once she’d finally had the pee she’d been dying for since they left the restaurant, she set about touching up her make-up, smiling to herself. She’d deliberately picked this jumpsuit as she knew it got Steve’s blood pumping. It was a simple, plain black one with a V-neck line, but it was tight. Teamed with a thin red patent leather belt, matching Jimmy-Choos and purse all set off by the bright red lipstick she was sporting, she knew she looked good. Not that Steve had much room to talk, she could happily perve on him in the dark pants he was wearing, teamed with a tweed blazer and that damned blue shirt, his collar left open. Frankly, he looked good enough to eat, which she was planning on doing later.
She headed back into the bar and spotted Steve perched on one of the stools, blinking as she saw he’d changed into a simple brown, long sleeved tee, but then again he always did like to get out of his dress shirts as soon as they got home usually, so she wasn’t that surprised.
“Hey, Handsome. You changed.” She slipped her arms round him from the back. He felt different, he was softer than Steve was. He smelt different, there was a really heavy woody scent to his aftershave whereas Steve’s preferred Hugo Boss was a lot lighter and she realised with horror that Steve hadn’t changed his outfit at all.
This wasn’t Steve.
When the man spun to face her, Katie had to do a double take as the likeness was indeed uncanny at first glance, but as she blinked and looked at him she noticed subtle differences. His eyes were cold and calculating, his jaw line wasn’t quite as sharp as Steve’s and the smirk he wore on his face was nothing like the cheeky one Steve would sport. It was almost a sneer which spread across his face, every feature laced with disdain.
“What the fuck?” The man glared at her as Katie stepped back, holding her hands up in apology.
“I’m sorry, genuine case of mistaken identity,” she said, taking him in. His shirt was the wrong colour too, only she hadn’t been able to see that from the back.
“Yeah well if you’re touting for business I already got some today so get lost.” The man drawled in his light, Boston accent. “Like I just said I thought you were…hang on…” Katie frowned as his words registered “You already got some?”
“Yeah, that’s right.” He looked her up and down, arching a brow.
“You think I’m a hooker?” Katie snorted.
“Pretty high end one though, I’ll give you that.” The man’s voice was now amused, as he nodded towards her chest.
“I’m not a hooker.” Katie shook her head, laughing in disbelief.
“Oh, sorry. Do you prefer the term escort?”
She rolled her eyes, flashing her left hand at him. “I’m married, this was a genuine mistake….”
She moved away from him to the side, nodding at Will who slid the check over for her to sign to charge the drinks to their room.
Ransom observed her for a moment, fighting the smirk that was threatening to break across his face. After another row with his stupid Libtard cousin and his mother who had been at his Grandfather’s house before, he’d come out with the sole intention of getting laid and then so drunk he could hardly remember his name. After a visit to one of his usual fuck pieces, he’d achieved the first part, now he was concentrating on the second. He’d been initially irritated by this woman’s interruption, but now she was getting sassy back, and he wasn’t about to let it drop. He could tell she had money,that much was clear to see. The way she talked, held herself, was dressed. Whilst she wasn’t a hooker as he had originally thought (although to be fair to her, she was pretty hot, he’d consider fucking her if the opportunity arose), she was probably living off some seventy odd year old rich banker husband. Huh, maybe she wanted a fuck after all…frustrated little trophy wife.
“So, tell me. Does your husband know you’re here trying to tap me up?” He looked at her.
“You know, if I was trying to errr…tap you up, you wouldn’t be able to afford me” She shot back, signing her name on the cheque with a flourish.
“Try me.” Ransom smirked, making a show of looking her up and down. “How much for that ass?” “I’ll kick yours for free you self-entitled dick.” She glared at him before she slid the signed paper and pen back to the bartender.
Ransom gave a bark of a laugh “I’ll pass thanks.”
Katie snorted and glanced sideways at look at him, scarlet red lips pursed as she eyed him over her glass of bourbon. “Good decision, because I’ve dropped bigger men than you for fun.” “Sure you have, Dollface” Ransom quirked an eyebrow, elbow leaning on the bar, angling his body towards her. She kept hers facing forwards, arms resting on the bar top, her head shaking slightly.
“You have no fucking idea who I am do you?” Katie shook her head, not looking at the prick stood next to her. She hated using that line, but, well, when the occasion arose to get one over on a weasely little shit like this, she wasn’t going to pass it up.
“Why should I?” He snorted “I don’t know all the little bitches in Boston.”
Katie felt her mouth drop open and she was about to retaliate when Steve gently appeared by her side, dropping her cardigan over her shoulders.
Ransom recognised him straight away. He’d had it quite often, been told he looked similar to Captain America. So this meant the woman he’d been baiting for the last five minutes was his wife, Katie Rogers, sister of Billionaire Tony Stark, the Avenger, Supernova.
He’d called Supernova a hooker.
Ransom looked into his glass of scotch, turning away back to the bar, snorting with laughter.
“Sorry baby, Sam called and…” Steve stopped, frowning at the look on Katie’s face. “You okay?”
“Fine.” She looked up at him, smiling and nodding towards a cosy sofa over at the other side of the bar. “You wanna go sit down over there?”
“Sure.” He nodded, picking up his glass of bourbon, he held out his free hand for her and she jumped down off the stool.
“I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure.” She snarked to the man next to her “But I don’t lie so…”
Steve frowned, wondering what had gone down whilst he’d been away. He glanced at his wife and then turned to look at the guy that was sat on the stool next to where Katie had been to see if he recognised him and did a double take. He recognised him alright, but only because he looked incredibly like him. Granted, there were a few subtle differences, but the resemblance was uncanny, to the point that at a first glance in the street, you could be fooled.
“Pal, you should keep that bitch on a leash.” Ransom spoke, his eyebrows raising and in front of him Steve stiffened.
“What did you just say?” He frowned, pulling himself up to full height.
“Seriously, man. You save the world from Nazi’s, get frozen for seventy years and then end up marrying that.” Ransom smirked, enjoying baiting the Captain “I’d ask ‘em to put you back under…”
Steve’s nostrils flared and he felt his neck getting warmer. “Don’t you dare talk about my wife like that.”
“Steve, leave it, come on.” Katie gently placed her palm on Steve’s chest. “The guy’s a complete ass hole. If brains were dynamite I doubt he’d have enough to blow his head off.”
“Well if we’re talking about blowing,” Ransom looked Katie up and down before locking onto her eyes. “You up for the job?
Katie let out a bark of a laugh, her hand still on Steve’s chest which was positively humming with anger as she turned to face Ransom, contempt etched across every single inch of her face.
“Go jerk yourself off and wipe it on a curtain like your father should have done with you.”
“I’d rather wipe it in your hair.” came the quip back.
And that was it. That was the point that Steve Rogers snapped.
There was a loud smash, the glass he was holding shattered in his grip as his fist contracted in pure anger. Katie barely had time to realise what had happened before he had stepped forward and grabbed Ransom by the front of his shirt, lifting him with ease, slamming him on the bar.
“Steve!” Katie pulled on his arm. “Baby, he really isn’t worth it, let go!”
“Captain Rogers!” Will behind the bar was desperately trying to talk him down as well “Please, don’t make me call security.”
Security! Steve wanted to snort. Like that would do any good.
“Soldier, come on.” Katie tried again, pleading to his reasonable side. “Look, we’ve had such a nice night. Don’t let him ruin it.”
Steve let out a deep breath, he wanted nothing more than to knock the asshole’s teeth down his throat, but he felt Katie’s touch on his arm and her pleading tone and he let go, shoving the man hard.
“I would tell you to apologise.” Steve snarled stepping back. His voice was steely, eyes carrying none of their usual warmth.“But I suspect it’s pointless”
“Yup.” Ransom nodded “Totally pointless.”
“Like your existence.” Katie mumbled, Ransom snorting in response. “Look, Drysdale, my manager’s told you before.” Will said, his voice laced with vexation as he shuffled from behind the bar to sweep up the glass that Steve had shattered. “Any more trouble and you’re gonna be banned.”
Ransom’s nostrils flashed angrily as he looked at the man “’I’m gonna be banned? Eat shit! He’s the one that just attacked me! He ripped my shirt!” he gestured down to where Steve had grabbed him, two tears either side of the buttons of his shirt “This is a Fendi!”
“Ransom, just shut up and apologise.” Will pressed again. “Or you’re gonna have to leave.”
“Fuck this, I was going anyway.” Ransom snarled, knocking back his drink. He stood up and pulled on a long, tan coloured camel coat before he glared at Steve then Katie “Really bad smell in here.”
Katie rolled her eyes, deciding to let him have that childish one without any fuss. But Steve didn’t.
“Close the door on your way out.” He watched as the man stopped, took a deep breath before angrily flinging the door open, his coat flapping behind him. There was a moment’s pause before it slammed shut.
“Sorry.” Steve turned, apologising to Will.
“He’s a dirt bag and a cretin.” Will shrugged, as he waved the apology off. “No redeeming features whatsoever. Well, none that I’ve seen and trust me, I’ve seen him a hell of a lot.”
“Is your hand okay?” Katie asked Steve gently. She turned his right hand over to see that there were no cuts at all from the glass, which was good.
“Yeah, fine, don’t worry.” Steve looked at her, frowning. “Honey, what on Earth just happened?” He asked her softly, as she took a deep breath, blowing it out of her mouth.
“I went to the bathroom and when I came back, well, I thought he was you from behind so gave him a hug.” She shook her head “Soon as I touched him I realised I was very, very wrong. I tried to apologise and he called me a hooker.”
“A hooker?” Steve repeated, arching an eyebrow.
“Yeah, so I told him even if I was he wouldn’t be able to afford me.”
At that Will, who had been busy pouring them both another drink, laughed as he slid two short tumblers of bourbon back over to them. “He won’t have liked that at all.”
Steve nodded his thanks to the man as Katie looked at him. “How come?” She asked.
“Well, simply put, his family one way or another are loaded, and Ransom likes to be the flash bastard if you get what I mean.”
“What do his family do?” Katie asked, “I’ve never even heard of the Drysdales.”
“His mother and father run a real Estate Company.” Will shrugged, “A local one round Massachusetts, but you’ll have heard of his grandfather, or if you haven’t you’ve been living under a rock for the last twenty years.” “Who?” she asked.
“Harlan Thrombey, the crime fiction author.” Will replied, and Katie felt the colour drain from her face. She turned to look at Steve whose eyes had also widened, and she gave a groan.
“Shit.”
**** Part 2
**Original Posting**
#stark spangled banner#steve rogers#Katie Stark#steve rogers x ofc#steve rogers x original female character#ransom drysdale#mcu#mcu fanfic#avengers#marvel#marvel fanfic
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
Voyagers
Genre: Fluff/Headcanon
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (Female)
Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to join BTS on a Bon Voyage adventure leads to once-in-a-lifetime love.
Author’s Note: Please note that my drabble Happiness fits into this part, and I’ve added a link where it should be read. Also, I’ve worked really hard to make this installment the best that it can be because - ready or not - this is the penultimate chapter! All that’s left is an epilogue! So please, please enjoy, and we’ll see you next time for the finale! 💕
GIF Credit: MONOSUGA
Masterlist
Part Twenty
Outro Interviews
When dinner was winding down, the production crew pulled Yoongi out onto the deck to film his closing interview
You started helping to clear the table, but the other boys insisted they could take care of it, and told you to go relax
Grateful for the opportunity to rest, you headed toward the living room couch, but stopped when you spied Yoongi through the windows
The outdoor scene behind him was completely black now, and he was sitting in front of a camera with several spotlights trained on him
You could tell he was talking to the camera, answering a question, but you couldn’t hear what he was saying
Your curiosity winning out, you stepped through the glass doors out onto the patio, and stood behind the cameramen
You overheard a producer ask Yoongi what was his favorite memory from the trip, and he caught sight of you while he was thinking of a reply
The corner of his mouth lifting, he looked back at the camera and said he enjoyed the helicopter ride, but the nights you camped out were his favorite
Especially the second night, he added, his eyes flicking towards you
You hugged your shoulders as you stood in the cool night air, self-consciously covering your blossoming smile as you recalled how Yoongi first kissed you that night
The producer then asked Yoongi about a time when he felt bad or disappointed
Yoongi’s half-smile faded, and again he glanced at you before answering
He was a little disappointed he didn’t try the Nevis swing, he admitted
He felt bad that Namjoon had to go twice, first with you, then with Taehyung
Hearing Yoongi’s response, you considered how things might have been different if he had been your swing partner instead of Namjoon
And you felt a little disappointed too
But you quickly pushed the regret from your mind and listened as the producer recited another question
“What are your feelings about this trip?” He asked
There were many things that took his breath away, Yoongi replied
At times he was very moved - and he doesn’t get moved easily, he reminded
It had been a season of healing and relaxation, Yoongi continued, and his favorite season of Bon Voyage
Then Yoongi paused, puffing his cheeks as he chose his next words
“I was able to open myself up,” He said, his eyes lifting to meet yours, “And I found more happiness than I ever expected.”
A few of the crewmen followed Yoongi’s gaze to see you standing behind them, and you ducked your head shyly
The producer conducting the interview didn’t seem to notice, though
Or maybe he did
Because his next question was about you
“What was it like having an ARMY join you? How do you feel about her after this trip?” He asked Yoongi
You held your breath, suddenly anxious
You realized the producer likely posed the same question to all the boys and he probably wasn’t trying to pry
Even so, it felt like a personal question
And you wondered how Yoongi would handle it
But he seemed altogether unbothered as he formulated a response
You’re very caring, and always looking out for others, Yoongi said breezily
He thought other ARMYs would appreciate experiencing the show through you and that they would find you likeable
He also said that he knew all the members enjoyed having you, and you would remain their close friend
You appreciated his kind observations, but you were waiting for him to address the part about his feelings
The producer apparently had the same thought, and he repeated the question, emphasizing the word “you”
Yoongi looked to you, unsure, and you nodded encouragingly
“We have a lot in common and we get along well,” He finally shrugged, sucking in air through his teeth
“I like how I am around her. She gives me… hope.”
His body language was nonchalant, but you could see the affection in his eyes
And it sent a thrill through you
To your relief, the producer seemed satisfied with Yoongi’s answer
And none the wiser about the true feelings behind it
With a nod and a thank you, he wrapped up the interview with Yoongi and looked around until he found you
He motioned for you to take a seat in front of the camera, and you understood that it was your turn to film an outro
Complying, you moved past Yoongi towards the chair he just vacated
As you brushed by each other, your eyes met and a silent reassurance passed between you
You then sat beneath the warm lights, and took a deep breath
You were a little nervous
You’d gotten fairly used to the cameras this week, but it was easier to ignore them when you weren’t staring straight into the lens under the glare of a spotlight
But you could see Yoongi standing behind the crew, and the soft expression he wore as he watched you calmed your nerves
So you kept your focus on him as the producer asked you all the same questions he’d asked him
And you answered each one from your heart
“What was your favorite memory from the trip?”
Watching the sunset from high atop the mountains, outside the observatory on the second night
“When was a time when you felt bad or disappointed?”
Any time wasted not taking full advantage of your time with the boys
“What are your feelings about this trip?”
You were able to experience so many new things, and you’ll be forever grateful for the opportunity
“What was it like traveling with BTS?”
So much fun, and surprisingly comfortable; the boys always made you feel welcome and included
“How do you feel about the members after this trip?”
The members are even sweeter - and funnier - than they seem, and you’re honored to call them friends
The more you spoke, the more relaxed you felt
And Yoongi’s faint smile continued to put you even more at ease
You felt like the interview went well and that you were about done
But then the producer asked a question that caught you off guard
“You said at the beginning of filming that Suga is your bias, and you’ve spent a lot of time with him this week. How do you feel about him now?”
For a moment, all you could do was stare at the producer, heat flooding your cheeks
He didn’t really expect you to confess, on camera and in front of the whole production team, did he?
The producer’s expression seemed innocent enough
Maybe he wasn’t implying anything
Maybe he just wanted you to say something sweet and generic about your bias, something along the lines of “he’s great,” “he’s still my favorite,” and “I like him even more now”
So that’s what you said
But as you looked back up and found Yoongi still standing among the crew, you knew it wasn’t the whole truth
You didn’t just like him
You loved him
You knew as the crew, the cameras, the microphones, the lights, and everything seemed to fade away as you looked at each other
You knew as you felt the warmth radiating from him as his soft smile reached his eyes
With all your heart, you knew
You loved him
You loved Min Yoongi
The producer cleared his throat, and you realized you’d been staring past him, unblinking and unbreathing
You brought your focus back to the interview, inhaling deeply, then exhaling slowly
The producer waited to see if you had anything to add
And you decided you did have one more thing you wanted to say
“Yoongi has a special place in my heart.” You breathed
And you hoped he - and no one else - understood what you truly meant
BTS UNO - Round Two
At the conclusion of your interview, the camera crew wrapped, quickly packing their equipment and heading out for the night
You heaved a relieved sigh as they left, and you and Yoongi joined the boys back at the dining table for a card game
As everyone agreed on another round of UNO, Yoongi noticed that someone was missing, and called out across the house for Taehyung to come
Taehyung innocently looked up from his seat on Yoongi’s other side, and the rest of the boys burst out laughing when Yoongi realized his mistake
You took Yoongi’s hand under the table to comfort him, but you couldn’t help but laugh, too
You knew exactly how tired he was (you were exhausted too, for the same reason), but his sheepish expression was too adorable
Then Taehyung and Yoongi both called for Jungkook, and when he appeared a few moments later, Taehyung dealt out the UNO cards
As you examined your hand, Namjoon asked if you were going to make another bet this game
Hoseok suggested the loser buy dinner for all 8 of you, and everyone agreed
But as play started and Jimin laid his first card down, he took it a step further, saying he’d buy dinner twice if he lost
Not to be outdone, Taehyung said he’d been studying the rules and if he lost, he’d buy dinner 3 times
The others noisily accepted the raised stakes, and the game continued
Though it was getting late, you were all energetic as you played, joking and teasing and laughing
As you took turns putting cards down, one of the boys started an acoustic beat and everyone joined in, chanting um-ch um-ch um-ch for several rounds
After a solid hour with no winners, you began to wonder if the game would ever end
The deck had been reshuffled a dozen times and despite several of you calling UNO, no one went out
Until finally, Jungkook laid down his last card, and immediately scampered off to bed
After that, the rest of you promptly followed suit, each of you emptying your hands until only Yoongi and Jimin were left
They went back and forth for a few minutes, until Jimin made it down to 1 card and he stood up on his chair, sure he was about to win
Then Yoongi put down a +4, and several of you exclaimed in surprise
But Jimin was unfazed, and threw down his last card with a triumphant shout
As he went wild and the other boys congratulated him, Yoongi stared at the stack of cards on the table in disbelief
And so did you
Jimin had thrown a wild card, but as you’d proven last night, stacking cards was against the rules and he should have drawn 4 and lost his turn
Raising your voice to be heard over the din, you called Jimin out, telling him he didn’t win after all
Jimin froze, his mouth falling open, and Yoongi’s arms shot into the air as he shrieked in excitement
He then played his last two cards in rapid succession (another +4 and a wild) and stole the victory from an astonished Jimin
The other boys were equally amazed, and as they shouted, clapped, and laughed, Yoongi gave you the gummiest smile
He clasped your hand tightly in his lap, thanking you, and you smiled back just as brightly
Everyone was eager to head to bed when the game was finished, so they dispersed quickly, pulling off their microphones as they went
But only you and Yoongi knew your reason for being eager had nothing to do with sleep
Yoongi walked with you down the hallway, and when you stopped in front of your door, he leaned in
He whispered by your ear, saying he’d be back as soon as the other boys were in bed, and his lips grazed your skin, sending a shiver through you
You nodded as he stepped back, and you exchanged small smiles as he continued down the hall to his own room
Your exhaustion replaced by anticipation, you slipped into your room and immediately made sure the camera was off
You’d been looking forward to this all day
And though you hurried to complete your bedtime routine, you had every hope that you wouldn’t be going sleep anytime soon
Happiness
Last Night in NZ
You and Yoongi spent the next several hours together much as you did the night before
You spoke quietly, about anything and everything
You kissed frequently, but without any urgency
And you both grew sleepier and sleepier
But you never let go of each other
If anything, you pulled each other closer the longer you laid together
Physically and emotionally
Until finally, you couldn’t keep your eyes open a millisecond longer
You only meant to close them for a moment, but when you opened them again, bright light was shining in around the edges of the curtains
And Yoongi was snoring quietly behind you, his arm tight around your waist and his chest pressed against your back
You grabbed your phone to check the time, instantly wide awake
It was still early
If you acted fast, Yoongi could still sneak back to his room without anyone noticing
You turned over and touched his cheek, saying his name
And you tried not to get distracted by how ridiculously adorable he looked while asleep
He opened one eye, then quickly closed it, groaning at the light
It was morning, you explained, telling him you both fell asleep
Yoongi rolled to his back, rubbing his face and swearing under his breath
But then he replaced his arms around you, and reminded you that filming wrapped the night before
You hadn’t forgotten, but you also knew the crew would be back soon to pack up all the GoPro cameras before everyone headed to the airport in a few hours
When you brought this to his attention, Yoongi opened both of his eyes and stared at the ceiling before conceding that you were right
With a heavy sigh, he sat up and ruffled his hair, then looked to you with a pout
Your heart melted at the sight
You could tell he was reluctant to leave the bed, and you knew it was not because he was tired
You felt the same way
But it would be okay, you assured him
You had time
And as soon as you rebooked your flight…
You’d have even more
Previous - Next
Taglist: @bucky-thorin-winchester @yvemoon @serpentiinequeen @neilpoetssociety @narcissism-iskey @kaitswrld
#bts#bts fanfiction#min yoongi#suganetwork#hyunglinenetwork#bts bon voyage#bts headcanons#yoongi x reader#bts imagines#bts fanfic#bts scenarios#bts suga#bts fluff#bts imagines suga#bts fics#bts fic#bon voyage season 4
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay I got a college Dabihawks quirkless AU ft. Trans Keigo
Keigo is just another broke college student who made it in on a scholarship. Even though he was on a scholarship, living in an apartment with his best friend Rumi was hard. Not to mention Testerone shots weren’t cheap. Thankfully Rumi’s family has always had his back. When they were still in high school, it was thanks to them that he was able to get top surgery and get his name changed. His home life was pretty tough; his mom and dad were both terrible people. His dad was always in and out of jail and when he was home he would hurt his mom and him. But his mom wasn’t any better; she also took out her anger on him and would abuse substances. In eighth grade he was kicked out of the house when his mom went through his phone and found out he was Trans. Rumi’s family swooped in so quickly to take him under their custody. It’s not like either of his parents cared enough to fight them in a custody battle. Rumi had always been there for him. The Usagiyamas offered to pay for his college tuition but Keigo couldn’t let them do that so in High School he worked his butt off to go on a scholarship. Sure he was intelligent but he also put in the wok to earn what he wanted. The college he attended had one of those student program jobs which he gladly accepted the one where he got to work in the library. It just made sense to him since he was an English major.
His favorite class had to be poetry. Sure he loved to read novels and add little notes in the margins but he has always felt comfort in poetry. Poetry was what kept him alive on those dark days in his parents’ old trailer. But it was sometimes hard to focus in that class because there was a guy who sat behind him in the next aisle that was always staring at him. He went by the name Dabi, whenever the teacher tried to say his name he would always cut her off. Dabi dressed like your stereotypical delinquent, always sporting ripped jeans and leather jacket. His nose, ears, and mouth pierced, tattoos that ran down his neck and arms and not to mention his hair was obviously dyed black. On the days Keigo really wasn’t having it he would turn around and send him a death glare as a way to tell him to cut it out. Dabi unfazed would just smirk back at him, earning an eye roll from Keigo who clearly gave up.
If the staring in class wasn’t enough Dabi eventually found out that Keigo’s worked in the library and soon started to show up there to the dismay of Keigo. This guy sure did like to bother him. Rumi after telling her what was going on, laughed and said Dabi was probably trying to get with him. Keigo only laughed and threw his pillow at her. No way a guy like him was trying to get with Keigo. One day Keigo got sick and couldn’t make it to his job. But Rumi needed to meet up with a partner to work on a project in the library. There she found Dabi who seemed like he was looking for someone. Just from the description that Keigo gave her, she was able to figure out that he was Dabi. So she decided to help the guy out a little. She sat across from him, and he looked up at her in a way that told her to scram. She just smirked.
“Keigo’s not here today. He got sick yesterday and it’s taken him awhile to recover.”
His blue eyes widened in surprise because he didn’t expect her to know why he was here.
“The name’s Rumi. I’m his sister.” She said while extending her hand to him which he reluctantly shook. She knew that he was questioning their relation since they looked nothing alike.
“Dabi. Now why are you telling me this?”
“Look Dabi, Keigo may be obvious but I am not. I know what you are trying to do.”
Her suspicions were correct in the way that his cheeks flushed and diverted his eyes.
“Normally I would threaten to rip you apart but I decided I was gonna take pity on you and give you a hand.” His eyes lit up in a way that reminded her of a puppy. Oh yes he may be just what Keigo needs.
“Keigo loves sweets. Sugar is his favorite thing in the world.That bastard has the fastest metabolism I have ever seen; he could eat desserts for days without gaining a single pound. If you want to get to his heart go through his stomach. Bring him poetry god he loves poetry more than life itself.” Rumi said with a soft look in her eye. She got up from her seat and before walking away Dabi spoke.
“How do you know if you can trust me.”
“I don’t.”
“.... thank you” was all Dabi could mutter, earning a smile from Rumi.
Dabi decided to take Rumi’s advice and started to bring Keigo sweets before their class started. Keigo was surprised to say the least that Dabi was giving him food but he wasn’t going to turn away sugar and would accept it. Making Dabi smile at him. He sure was confused to why he was doing this but hey free food is free food. On the days he worked. Dabi would stop with the whole staring at him from afar and snarky remarks when checking out books. Instead he would lean over and talk to him about their class and discuss their different analyses. Turns out Dabi had some pretty solid points. Dabi would sometimes even slide a poetry book over to him and every time he would try and return it he would refuse insisting Keigo keep it. Keigo’s reaction would always be to smile and look down at the floor as he hugged the book. Dabi’s heart would flutter at his smile only making him want to bring it out even more. One night when Keigo was leaving work Dabi decided to ask him if he would want to go to a local cafe. Keigo originally said no but his stomach eventually gave in. Dabi was ecstatic and they ate together. It was during this time that Dabi realized how much smaller Keigo was compared to him.This became their routine. Keigo would always try to fight him on paying the bill but Dabi would always win. He used his card so damn often that Keigo was definitely worried for his credit score. Dabi would only give him a lopsided smile and assure him that it was fine.
Rumi one night asks him how was his date with Dabi in which he denies it is a date. But the thought stays in his head and he can’t help but think were all those trips to eat were dates. The next day he doesn’t even look at Dabi; he's too caught up in his own mind. This stresses Dabi the fuck out because he doesn’t know if he accidentally did something to make the blond mad at him. So at Keigo’s job he asks if he did something wrong. Keigo really can’t bring himself to lie to the guy he really grew to like.
“Dabi… were all those trips to go eat together dates?” He asked not to look at him jut in case he was wrong he wouldn’t have to see the rejection.
Dabi sheepishly rubbed his neck debating whether or not to tell the truth.
“Well um uh yes…”
“Oh…” blush rising on both their faces.
“Look Keigo, I really like you and I want to continue to go on those kinds of dates. But if you don’t I um… understand.” He was able to push out laying it all on the line.
“ I want to.. I mean yes I will go on more dates with you.” Keigo was able to say as the blush on his face grew darker. Dabi’s entire face lit up in happiness.
They start to date each other doing normal things aside from eating out. Dabi goes out of his way to shower Keigo with both gifts. Dabi really liked to show his affection physically in the forms of hugging and kissing. But sometimes they would start to get frisky which would always freak him out because he hasn’t told Dabi he was trans. He was mostly afraid. He really liked Dabi but he was so afraid of him breaking up with him. Dabi never pushed him to tell him what was wrong and would drop it, opting to hold him instead. One instance he decides to tell him the truth, he expected him to maybe yell at him in betrayal but instead he got a kiss. Dabi reassured him that he still liked him even if he was trans. Things start to get easier after that and Dabi even begins to help buy his testosterone shots, even bringing him cookies as a treat to make him feel better.
Eventually they talk about their childhoods. When Keigo tells him, he has to physically stop Dabi from getting up to try and hunt his garbage parents down. He explains how he doesn’t care about them anymore and the Usagiyamas are his true family. Dabi reveals that he is actually Touya Todoroki, son of Enji Todoroki, a well known billionaire. His dad was a terrible person, Dabi told Keigo of all the things he did to his family like the physical, emotional and mental abuse they had to endure. This drove them apart. After his mom finally divorced his dad, he was legally obligated to give all members of his family a generous amount of money per month. Dabi used his on his college tuition and then later used it to shower his boyfriend with sweets and gifts. Dabi found it hard to talk with his family without feeling overwhelmed with bitter resentment for his dad. That night they just hold each other not wanting to let go.
During winter break Keigo decides to invite Dabi to celebrate Christmas with him and Rumi’s family. Dabi was reluctant but eventually gave in. The Usagiyamas were one of the nicest people Dabi has ever met and he was glad that they were able to care for Keigo for all these years. Rumi’s parents take a liking to him and unofficially make him a part of their family. It’s after this trip that Dabi realizes he misses his family. With Keigo by his side he reaches out to them and they decide to get together for New Year’s. Keigo offers him a gentle squeeze of his hand when that day arrives and they are in front of his sister’s door. He looks into Keigo’s golden eyes and gives him a nervous smile. Everything was going to be okay.
#dabihawks#bnha takami keigo#bhna hawks#bnha dabi#takami keigo#dabi#Dabihawks college au#trans hawks#trans keigo takami
88 notes
·
View notes
Note
r/n - i've been working on my backwards walk / there's nowhere else for me to go / except back to you just one last time / say yes before i change my mind
As Rebecca tries to be sanguine about nearing forty, seeing it as a peak rather than a slide into decay (a Naomi-fostered distortion that has proven remarkably difficult to shake), one thing that has comforted Rebecca over the last decade is that with experience, she’s learned how to handle all matter of situations with grace, simply because she’s seen them before.
Revisiting this particular situation, however, is not what she expected.
It starts with an invitation delivered to Rebecca’s house to Hebby’s fifth grade graduation. There wouldn’t be anything strange about such a thing, even after she gets over the orange-and-turquoise astronaut theme (Hebby was going through a bit of a NASA phase), were it not for the fact the invitation was also addressed to Nathaniel.
Rebecca and Nathaniel, specifically.
Still frowning and trying to ignore the weird ringing that just went through her head at the jolt of seeing hers and Nathaniel’s names juxtaposed across a piece of lurid cardstock—like they’re a unit, or something—Rebecca credits herself with just pulling her phone out and calling Darryl directly instead of diving headfirst into a panic spiral.
“Rebecca!” Darryl’s voice booms from the other end of the line, and Rebecca can’t help the reflexive grin—Darryl’s unflagging enthusiasm while raising four daughters remains nothing short than a scientific marvel. “What a surprise. How is my favorite pretzel singer?”
“Hey, Darryl. Quick question for you. I got your card—”
“Isn’t it great? Hebby picked out the colors specially.”
“I’ll bet she did. But that’s not why I was calling, actually. I was wondering if, perchance, you might have had a shortage of such eye-popping invitations?”
“What do you mean?”
“My invitation was addressed to me and Nathaniel, which, I can definitely send him the deets, no problem, but wouldn’t an email be easier?”
“Oh?” She can hear Darryl’s mustache frown from the other end of the phone. “You mean you and Nathaniel aren’t…”
“Well, he doesn’t live here,” snaps Rebecca, a little flustered. “Why would you think that? Why did you think—did he—”
“Hang on,” says Darryl, and she can hear him calling for April, leaving her stuttered rejection hanging.
Are her and Nathaniel—
How is that even a question anymore?
It’s been a decade, and everyone involved with that event has definitively moved forward with their lives. Her and Josh were a definitive ‘no’ from that fateful Valentine’s Day onwards, remaining dear friends instead, and she was very much the ‘cool aunt’ among his own children. Her and Greg had wavered briefly for a bit afterwards, ran into some seriously uncomfortable friction, and it took them the better part of two years to find a good balance. It probably helped that she accidentally connected him to the woman who would become his wife, but that was a story for another day.
And it was a similar story with Nathaniel. He went to Guatemala for two years, came back and split his time between helping at MountainTop and working with some volunteer legal capacity with the local zoos and her and him—
Ah. Well.
Okay, so it wasn’t quite as clearly defined with Nathaniel, beyond the general fact that she wanted him to be happy, and he wanted her to be happy, and generally their relationship since his return had been checking in on each other, making fun of their weird hobbies and still showing up to events that were important to each other. It was all very adult and friendly and open. Their friendship had appropriate limits and boundaries and they supported each other in the respective relationships they had tried over the years, and it was very platonic…
Well. Except when it wasn’t. There hadn’t been a repeat of the Mona incident ever, and Rebecca could honestly say that she really liked a couple of the long-term girlfriends he’d introduced to them since then, and was genuinely regretful when those relationships ended. Especially for Sylvia, the LA Zoo curator who had to move for her career. Not that the regret wasn’t complicated by other factors, like when Nathaniel had admitted privately to Rebecca later that as much as he liked Sylvia, he just couldn’t see himself leaving California again.
She didn’t get butterflies at that, exactly, because but there had been a comfort in knowing that Nathaniel was content to remain in her orbit.
Again, not entirely uncomplicated. But it was nothing beyond the usual messy spectrum of human emotion internally, and never acted on externally.
She’s dated on and off as suited her libido and her schedule and her desire to find a life partner. She’s had relationships that got serious enough to talk about the future on and off, but they’ve all ended too for reasons inherent to those dynamics themselves. Nathaniel had been a good friend while they were going on, and a shoulder to cry on after, and well, okay, they might have fallen back into bed together a few times over the years, but they never pretended that it was either more than it was or that it was some forbidden thing that wouldn’t happen again. It was what it was.
Well. And they hung out, sometimes. And occasionally were each other’s plus-ones to public events. And friends’ weddings. And quite possibly—
Hm.
It really, really doesn’t help her case that she’s going to see him tonight, either.
“Rebecca?” Darryl tears her out of her thoughts. “Sorry about that! I think there was just a mistake at the stationary shop and they put your cards in together. What are the odds? I might need to call the other parents on the list, just to make sure that they got theirs all right. Could you take that one to Nathaniel? I don’t know if it’s out of your way—”
“Not at all!” says Rebecca, smiling with all of her teeth even though Darryl can’t see her, her cheeks aching. “Not even remotely.”
“Good,” says Darryl, and she can hear him beaming from the other side of the line.
~
“So, a funny thing happened on the way to your apartment…”
“That’s ominous,” comments Nathaniel, taking the bag of groceries she shoves at him without complaint as he closes the door behind her. Rebecca kicks off her shoes and toes them out of the walkway, abiding by Nathaniel’s still oft-repeated entreaties to not leave her personal belongings strewn entirely across his apartment.
“It’s not ominous so much as luminous,” says Rebecca, reaching into her purse and withdrawing Hebby’s invitation with a little flourish of the wrist. “Well, fluorescent.”
“Oh my god.”
Nathaniel accepts the card and flicks it open, scanning through the cheerful, only slightly grammatically incorrect message, and cannot quite suppress an amused huff of laughter. Rebecca hides her own smile as she turns away to set her purse on the very useful hook Nathaniel installed for her own use. Like herself, Nathaniel has a soft spot for Hebby, despite his continued awkwardness around children.
“Right? She gets that from Darryl for sure.”
“I don’t know, I remember someone showing up in some pink and purple eyesore into a law firm the very first day I met her.”
“You just didn’t know fun when you saw it,” says Rebecca instead, perching on the edge of the couch. “But it was funny. I was worried for a second that he thought that we were a couple or something. How weird is that?”
She is completely, totally casual in her delivery of that line, she knows. A decade in community theater and singing gigs have certainly finetuned her ability to turn a phrase, if nothing else. But something must be slightly offkey, because Nathaniel snaps up from marveling at the card to eye her suspiciously.
“Very weird,” he says, after a slightly-too-long pause. “Do we seem like a couple? Why would we seem like a couple when we aren’t a couple?”
“That’s exactly what I thought!” She punches him companionably on the arm; apparently too hard, if the way he winces and rubs at his bicep is any consideration.
(She’s been taking workout classes with Valencia—she deserves something for all that pain.)
“But it’s probably nothing,” she adds, determined to address this weird little misstep directly, because they are both too old to be having any kinds of weird misunderstandings anymore. “We’re close. We have our own rhythm, our own special two step. No wonder Darryl got confused.”
“He’s getting old,” says Nathaniel.
“Dude, c’mon.”
“What? It’s true.”
“What about you, Mister Gray?” Rebecca challenges. Nathaniel pulls a face in response, clearly fighting the urge to brush his hand through the aforementioned silvering at his temples.
(He wasn’t quite vain enough to dye his hair yet, though Rebecca credits his restraint to the fact that she would never let him hear the end of it.)
“It’s just a couple of hairs,” he says inconsequentially, as though it hasn’t been long established that between the two of them, he’s the one with the greater fear of aging, and therefore in far more danger of aging gracelessly.
“Keep telling yourself that.” Rebecca hops off the couch and grabs him by the elbow. “Now c’mon, let’s make sure make these sweet potatoes are not oh-sweet-pies-don’t!”
~
Heading over to Nathaniel’s place had left Rebecca feeling on edge, not quite sure how to process the idea of someone, anyone, considering her and Nathaniel as a potential couple this late in the game.
Nothing is more grounding, however, than seeing Nathaniel being clearly so off kilter, missing steps in what should be a well-worn dance of theirs by now. Dancing has always been their thing—where they once threw each other off at every possible moment, shaking up their convictions about life and happiness and how that concept could exist within their previously compartmentalized existences. Now, they were familiar with each other. Comfortable. Predictable.
They knew each other’s moves now, which means that she could see Nathaniel’s as clear as water.
He’s unfocused during dinner, a little erratic in his answers, jittery, as if he’s had too much coffee. It’s putting her off her rhythm, and while she knows that not everything in life needs to be a big song and dance production, there does need to be some kind of continuity.
This evening was supposed to be easygoing and relaxing. And, yes, probably beneficial in that very particular friends-with-benefits way. But since that clearly wasn’t going to happen, they needed to execute a sharp left turn and get this all settled.
“Nathaniel?” she repeats, for the third time.
“Hm?”
“Are you getting hard of hearing in your old age?” He scowls deeply at her in response. “Yeah, yeah, I had to ask. So, what’s bugging you?”
He’s silent for a long minute. “Just something ridiculous.”
“Yeah?”
He shakes his head. “We don’t need to go through it again. It’s just spinning in circles around the same old subject.”
“Try a jazz square then.”
That startles a laugh out of him, much to Rebecca’s satisfaction. Good to know that she still has some capacity for surprise with him. She continues, “You know that move, right? Don’t tell me you forgot about Connie.”
“Are you kidding? I still have nightmares about her scarf strangling me to death.”
“Dark.”
“She was terrifying.”
“Yeah.” They sit in companionable silence. Then Nathaniel sighs.
“Sorry I’m being weird. I just…hearing that from you, I always thought it would just be a good laugh. You know, ridiculous to even think about romance again. But it made me feel weird instead, so now I’m acting slightly weird.”
“I wouldn’t say slightly,” teases Rebecca, unable to resist. Nathaniel doesn’t return her smile.
“Rebecca, I like where we are. I like that our relationship isn’t a big production anymore.”
“Don’t get me wrong—I love drama on the stage, but that’s definitely where it should stay.” She drums her fingers on her thigh, subconsciously tapping out a tune that’s been giving her trouble these last few weeks. “We can learn new steps, you know. Old dogs, new tricks? That doesn’t only apply to the bedroom.”
Nathaniel (again, predictably) groans.
“Aren’t you getting too old to have such a dirty mind?” But he’s smiling, now.
“Nah. I fully intend to be a filthy old woman. But seriously,” she adds, moving to sit besides him on the couch. “If just the thought of other people thinking that we’re a couple again is enough to send us both off balance, we need to center ourselves. Maybe it’s something worth talking about. What do you say?”
She reaches out and grabs his hand, and starts to tap a rhythm against his large palm—one of the first she ever composed, the first one her friends ever danced to. After a moment, he taps back, completing it.
“Yes.”
#writing meme reply#rebecca x nathaniel#crazy ex girlfriend#ellie writes fic#I'm not sure how happy i am with the denouement of this one#and it spun away a bit from the prompt#but i like enough of it#it's been forever since i've written fic#notbang
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Many Astonishing Ways Abuse Can Affect Your Money
Photo by Darío Martínez-Batlle on Unsplash
People will use money, and your need of it, to manipulate you in various ways. Some are relatively harmless, and extremely common i.e. an otherwise neglectful parent buying their child lunch to get some time with them. However, some are more nefarious, and insidious. Here are a few common tactics people regularly use to control you financially:
Manipulation- This category is comprised of various types of manipulation including emotional appeal, constant desperation, and the use of younger siblings/dependent adults i.e. grandma against you.
Most everyone has been on the receiving end of an emotional appeal before. We use this to declare our love for each other, ask someone we have hurt for forgiveness, and so many other very positive interactions. But emotional appeal is also regularly used to try to influence a reluctant person to continue offering support with which they have become uncomfortable. A common use of emotional manipulation is for the dependent person to respond with an outburst of anger when support is threatened. They may genuinely feel that they have a right to be angry, and that may in fact be true, but that doesn't change the fact that the person providing support also has a right to their feelings, and ultimately, to their own time, energy, and money.
Another type of tactic that is very similar and often used in conjunction with emotional appeal, is for the person receiving support to be in a constant state of desperation. This person will often come to you at the end of the month to say, "Can I just borrow a couple hundred to get us through the month? I'll pay you pack the second I get paid." This is essentially asking for a payday loan from you, which we all know, is just a cycle of debt that actually benefits no one. This type of manipulation can be difficult to extract yourself from because there is probably a genuine need. However, it is ridiculous to expect anyone to loan you money on a frequent basis. If you cannot support your lifestyle on your own, reduce your lifestyle to the best of your ability.
If you have dependent family members, constant desperation becomes all that more effective. If grandma is on a fixed income, and Timmy is only 12 years old, they come with fixed expenses. Anyone knows this. And therefore, anyone should be able to plan for these expenses. If you are not living in the home, you are not responsible for grandma, or baby brother. I know this sounds harsh, and if the need is true, you can always offer other material support such as taking baby brother school clothes shopping, or asking only grandma what she might need from the store. But you do not need to provide money to people who may or may not be spending it in the way that they say they are.
Use of access to credit- Directly taking money out of an account they have access to, taking out a credit card in your name (or a joint one, if married) and using it indiscriminately or without permission.
My father was a big fan of this type of control. By the time my mother left him after 8 years of abuse, he had taken out something like 13 joint credit cards and run them all up to the limit. Not to mention all of the cards he took out in only his name or my mother's. He used my mother's maiden name and social security number to take out cards without her knowledge. He then chose to reveal the existence of these cards in moments when my mother was seriously considering leaving, claiming that if she left she would have nowhere to go because he had ruined her credit. This is obviously abusive behavior and should not be tolerated in any relationship, whether that is a relationship between adults, or a parent/child relationship. If you find yourself in a situation even close to this one, I highly recommend contacting the National Foundation for Credit Counseling (nfcc.org), as they may be able to provide concrete guidance on how to challenge behaviors like these in court.
Another form of manipulation could be pressuring you to take out a card and let someone else use it. This has actually happened to someone I know. Their parents put a lot of pressure on this person, basically the minute they turned 18, to take out a credit card in their name and let the parents use it, and pay it off. Or so they said. Ultimately, they were not able to make the payments on it, even the minimums, and destroyed this child's credit. The parents also convinced this child to take out payday loans in this child's name, and then just "loan" them the money. Please do not fall for this. This is manipulation, pure and simple. No reasonable person asks another to take out a loan for them, regardless of if you can afford it, or if they'll pay you back right away. Forget it. Any money loaned out is not a loan. You should be comfortable with the concept of never seeing that money back, and it should be an amount of money that you can afford to never see again. Regardless of how close you are, if not getting paid back would ruin your relationship with this person, you cannot afford to lend them money.
Monitoring- Keeping track of how you spend money, not allowing you a say in the family finances, or being cagey with their personal finances, while expecting you to be completely forthright with yours, usually perpetrated under the guise of "handling the finances", are all tactics that many people in long term relationships use to control their partner(s) or sometimes parents use to control their young adult children. This behavior can usually be spotted early on in the relationship.
1. Do they check up on you when they know you have other things to do?
2. Do they expect an unreasonable level of communication?
3. Do they ask to move in together pretty quickly? (This can be a tactic to more fully control your environment, or to begin the process of isolation, or dependence.)
4. Do they regularly ask for small sums of money, and always pay you back? (This can be a way to warm you up to the idea of giving them access to your accounts, or to loaning them large sums of money, which they will likely never pay back.)
5. Have they asked to share bills or accounts early on in the relationship, or before you have moved in together? (This could be a dependence or control tactic, because if they are on the account they are entitled to control and monitoring of the account, whether that is a cell phone bill, or a bank account.)
This is just a small selection of the types of questions that could come up as you negotiate the financial terms of your long term relationships. There are tons of questions that pertain to specific situations, people, and relationships. A great rule of thumb is to ask yourself whether you can communicate regularly, openly, and safely about your feelings with this person. If you do not have solid communication, trust, and safety with any person, they do not deserve access to or control of your financial life.
"Losing ambition" or other types of dependence- This can best be described as someone depending on your money while refusing to work when otherwise able - and this one comes with a huge caveat. Many people are truly dependent, and truly cannot work or find work for reasons beyond their control. But this needs to be communicated. Usually, the people who use dependence as a tactic to control you do not keep a regular conversation about finances going because that would reveal the extent of their use and abuse. My fiancee is pretty much entirely dependent on my income due to a chronic illness. I do not resent this because we have had tons and tons of conversations about our finances, and she has her own money and bank account. She contributes as best she can around the house, and constantly has ambitions of making her own money. She even buys me dinner sometimes. She is still driven and ambitious, it has just had to change in scope and degree from where she was before she was ill. That being said, refusing to work, find work, or otherwise contribute around the house can be a way to manipulate you into continuing to take care of someone. Keeping themselves dependent on you can make you second guess your desire to leave because "What would happen to them, they aren't working, I'm the only one paying the rent, where would they go?" This is a spiral that they want you to have because as long as they have nothing, you have to stay with them. The way to deal with this behavior is to do your best to sit with them and discuss their goals, what plans they have of achieving them, and how you and your money fit into that picture. Both parties should come to an agreement that feels ok for both parties. This will not feel good, do not expect it to. But this plan should offer both of you some level of psychological relief, and guidance on what the next steps could be for the dependent person. If someone is resistant to making substantive change in themselves and their lives, when they are otherwise completely capable of doing so, you do not need to feel responsible for their life, even if they do not feel responsible for it themselves. At this point you are forced to accept that this person is resistant to change right now, and will probably continue their pattern of behavior and manipulation regardless of anything you may or may not do. So, it would be in your best interest to distance yourself from the dependent person as much as possible. Ultimately, I encourage everyone to seek the professional help of a therapist, psychologist, or psychiatrist whenever possible. It always helps to have an objective lens through which to view a difficult situation such as manipulation or abuse.
Actionable Advice:
1. If you take nothing else from this article, always remember the 3 C's: Consent Communication Consideration. - Every partner in any relationship has a right to these three C's.
2. Protect yourself - we are raised to extend our trust, love, and vulnerability to the people who are closest to us, but this does not take into account the reality of toxic relationships and family members.
3. Educate yourself - Continue to advance your knowledge of personal finance and relationships. None of us are perfect. We all have gaps in our understanding, especially when it comes to interpersonal relationships, and getting along with others. Kindergarten can't teach us everything.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stark Spangled Banner: Stab Me In The Front
Part 1: America’s Asshole
Intro: It’s been a year since Katie was held hostage by Hydra, and whilst she’s still working through her feelings she has an idea about how she can make other people’s lives better as a result of her ordeal. Alongside this, she needs to take a trip to Boston to meet Harlan Thrombey-SIP’s latest author. Slightly nervous about taking a business trip alone after what happened last time, Steve offers to go with her.
What could possibly go wrong?
Warnings: Bad language. SMUT (NSWFW)
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
Square Filled : “Mistaken Identity” @avengersbingo A/N: So, here we go. An Avengers/Knives Out Cross Over where Katie and Steve come face to face with America’s Asshole! The tongues are sharp and the knives are out! This is set in 2015 so way before the KO storyline so therefore contains no spoilers! You don’t need to have read SSM to understand or enjoy but please do so if you wish.
Main Masterlist
**Shout out to @icanfeelastormbrewing for being my Insult Partner when I was writing this!!**
PLEASE PLEASE REBLOG and COMMENT, This is probably my fave part of this fic I’ve written to date!!
October 2015
“So, Mr Thrombey, that’s all confirmed.” Katie said, tapping at a key on her computer to lock the meeting in her calendar “11 am, Next Thursday, the 15th ”
“I’ll send you through the zip code and location for your GPS.” Harlan responded “The house is just outside of Lincoln, not far from Pierce Park. It shouldn’t be too far for you if you’re staying at the Harbor.”
“Thank you.” Katie smiled as she spoke into her phone, “I look forward to meeting you on Thursday Sir.”
“Oh, less of the Sir, Harlan please. And the pleasure is all mine Miss Stark…I mean, Mrs Rogers, my apologies!” The man chuckled “And thank you for accommodating my need to pull this meeting forward by a few days.”
“It’s not a problem.” she assured him. They exchanged pleasantries again and then she cut the call and leaned back in her chair, cracking her neck, before she double checked the travel arrangements. The hotel was booked, flight was sorted, hire care was confirmed. All that she needed to do was not forget the annotated manuscript or the cover ideas.
The door to her office opened and she looked up to see Tony leaning in the doorway, waving a Starbucks cup at her one of their familiar brown paper bags, clearly bearing treats.
“I love you bro…” she smiled at him as he wandered in, chuckling, placing the drink and paper bag down in front of her. She looked into the bag and gave a moan when she saw it was a rather large, gooey looking brownie, and gave a bigger moan when she sipped her drink and found it to be a Pumpkin Spiced Latte. “Perfect Elevenses!”
“Well thought you might need one, you’ve been locked in here since 7 this morning…”
“You got FRIDAY spying on me?” she narrowed her eyes at him.
“No.” he said at the same time the AI affirmed her suspicions.
“He has indeed had me watch you, Mrs Rogers.” “Traitor.” Tony rolled his eyes and Katie chuckled
“Well I had all this Harlan Thrombey stuff to sort, Steve’s still in Copenhagen with Sam chasing the alleged latest sighing of Bucky.” she shrugged “Not much point in lying in when you’re wide awake is there?”
“True.” Tony nodded. “Are you going back to the Compound tonight?”
“I dunno.” she shrugged “I might just stay here again if that’s ok?”
“Kiddo, you own part of this Tower, it’s always gonna be your home too.” Tony shrugged, “You can stay as long as you want.”
“Thanks Tone.” she smiled. She didn’t want to admit it, but she felt safer in the Tower whilst Steve was away, even thought it was ridiculous as the Compound was just as secure, being closer to her brother was a comfort.
“I haven’t forgotten what tomorrow is.” Tony said gently, looking at her.
“Funnily enough me neither.” she sighed “I should be celebrating, a year to the day Bucky broke me out of that fucking shit hole in Canada.” she pulled off her glasses, another remnant of her time with HYDRA. Since she’d been kept for 6 weeks in that horrific cell she’d needed glasses for anything that required a long period of concentration on a computer screen or monitor if she wanted to avoid migraines. Bruce seemed to think it was something to do with the fact that her cell had been painfully bright all the time and that continued exposure to artificial light in such a way triggered a subconscious response.
She swallowed “I’ve been trying not to think about it.” she said gently.
“Which is why I booked you and Pepper into the Dominick for the afternoon.” he smiled at her “Well, Pepper has, I’ve just given her the credit card…full deep tissue massage, facial and then Franco’s booked to do your hair…and don’t bother telling me you’re busy as I had your diary cleared and everything reschedule to next week” he watched as she opened her mouth before shutting it,, shaking her head softly. “You leave in 30 minutes.”
“You spoil me.” she smiled softly.
“Anything for my girls, plus I thought it might keep you busy whilst Spangles is otherwise engaged.”
“He was hoping to be back but when I spoke to him before he doesn’t know if he’s gonna be.” she shrugged “it is what it is.” Tony smiled at her before he stood up “Yes, it is. And this afternoon is your pamper time so get your shit together and meet Pepper downstairs.”
“Yes sir.” she said, saluting him with a grin.
As with anything Pepper or Tony booked, the spa was off the scale. Katie had been meaning to go for ages, and now, as she sat in the chair in Franco’s salon she was already searching available dates to go back with Natasha and Wanda. She laughed and joked with the stylist and Pepper, the pair of them enjoying yet another bottle of champagne as they had their hair done. A couple of hours later, at just gone 7pm, Pepper dragged her out over the road and into a ridiculously expensive wine bar.
“Feeling better?” Pepper asked as Katie took a huge gulp of her Sancerre.
Katie smiled “Much, thank you.” “You know, I’m always here if you want to talk to someone other than Steve about stuff.” Pepper looked at her “And it won’t go any further.”
“That’s the thing, I don’t wanna talk about it…” Katie sighed “You know, Pep, I see all these women out there, read their testimonies and things and I just wonder how they’re so strong, like, how can they can just stand up and talk about what happened to them?” she trailed off, shaking her head “And me? I just wanna pretend it never happened. So much for being an Avenger huh?”
“Hey…” Pepper shook her head, looking at her sternly. “Stop that, right now.” “Well it’s true.” Katie shrugged “I mean, I’m a public figure right? But all people know is I was missing for 6 weeks, but it was put down to a mission gone awry. I just..well, I feel like I should be out there, trying to make a difference, helping people.”
“Kiddo, what you went through…” Pepper swallowed “I can’t even begin to imagine. And how you’ve dealt with and processed it, well, frankly I don’t know how you’ve been so strong. There is no shame in wanting to simply move on and leave it in the past.”
“I know.” Katie said softly “Thank you. Having everyone around me makes me realise how lucky I actually am. I’ve got a huge support network. Not everyone who goes through...” she swallowed, not quite able to say it “not everyone has that to fall back on.” Pepper pondered something before she looked at Katie, “You know, we haven’t picked our Partner Charity for the Stark Relief Fund next year…we could make it one that deals with Sexual violence. No need to go into details as to why.” Katie considered that for a moment, before she nodded “That’s not a bad idea.” she clicked her nails against her wine glass, thoughtfully “It would make a difference, right?”
Pepper nodded. “Absolutely. Give it some thought, see how you feel.” “I will, thanks.” she smiled.
****
Steve was exhausted but wasn’t willing to spend another moment away from his wife. So the moment the jet was down he headed straight for the garage, jumped on his bike and roared out of the compound heading down town towards Manhattan.
“Good Evening Captain Rogers…” FRIDAY greeted him as he pressed his palm to the access pad at the rear entrance from the underground car park “Mrs Rogers is in your apartment.”
“Thanks FRIDAY.” he said, as the elevator began to rise. It stopped a few floors up, and when the doors flew open he was greeted by Tony who was undoing his tie.
“Oh, you’re back.” he said, looking at Steve appraisingly.
“You’re up late.” Steve looked at him.
“Just working on a few things.” Tony said vaguely. “How was the search for Tin Man?” “Well, it was him alright.” Steve said, running a hand down his tired face “Few more leads to work on. We could have stayed out there for a bit longer truth be told but, well, I wanted to be here tomorrow, you know.” Steve said, shrugging.
The two men shared a moment of understanding, both of them having experienced unsurmountable raw pain and anguish over the 6 weeks Katie had been missing and it wasn’t something they were likely to forget any time soon. If ever.
“She know you’re home?” Tony looked at him again. Steve shook his head.
“Wanted to surprise her.”
Tony smiled softly, “She’s probably asleep. Her and Pep have been in the Spa all afternoon and they’ve drunk a lot so…”
Steve gave a huff of a laugh “Yeah she messaged me before saying you’d sent her there out for the afternoon. That was really thoughtful of you Tony.” “Well it happens occasionally.” Tony said as the elevator stopped at his floor. “Listen, Steve…”
Steve turned to face him.
“She’s not been herself the last few weeks.” Tony scratched at his beard and Steve took a deep breath.
“I know.” he said gently “I think she’s just, well, processing, if that’s the right word. We only got back from our honeymoon 3 weeks and it kinda hit her when we got back just what time of year it was. Whilst we were away she didn’t have time to think about it.”
“Just…well, take care of her for me ok?” Tony said, looking at the Soldier.
Steve nodded “Always Tony, you had my word on that when I told you I wanted to marry her, and I meant it.”
Tony nodded and clapped him on the shoulder, giving him a look of thanks before he left the elevator on the Part Floor level. It began to rise again and Steve let out a soft sigh. Tony was right, the last 2 weeks in particular Katie had been a little quiet, less vivacious, almost withdrawn even. At first he had put it down to post honeymoon blues but Natasha had pointed out that this time 12 months ago she had been at the mercy of Hydra, with those bastards brutalising her in ways that he couldn’t even bring himself to think about. For this reason, he’d been reticent to go on the latest mission but Katie had insisted, pointing out that they couldn’t not carry on with their lives and that she would be alright.
The fact she had basically moved back into the Tower for the 3 days he had been gone, however, made him think that she wasn’t quite as alright as she had told him.
The doors opened on their floor and he stepped out. It was mostly dark as he headed through to the bedroom where he found that the TV was playing on the wall, but Katie was fast asleep, one of the pillows clutched to her chest as a makeshift cuddle partner. With a soft smile he closed the door and headed over to the bed. Kicking off his boots he lay on his side, facing her, and brushed her soft hair back off her face before pressing a kiss to the bridge then tip of her nose and finally her lips.
She stirred, her face scrunching up in that adorable way it always did, before she blinked her eyes open. It took her a second to focus but when she did her lips curled upwards into a soft smile which became an ear to ear grin.
“Hey sweetheart.” he said softly, kissing her again, his hand cupping her face.
“You’re home.” she said, reaching up to lay her hand over his. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”
“Wanted to surprise you.” he smiled.
“Well it worked.”
“I missed you.” he said softly, his thumb caressing her cheekbone.
“Missed you more.” she shot back and he chuckled.
“Doubt it. How was the Spa?”
“Oh it was amazing.” she gushed, her eyes shining “I had this deep tissue massage and the guy hit spots on my back I didn’t even know I had. The facial was great, and my hair…”
“I like the colour.” he said smiling, gently moving his hand so he twirled a piece around his finger. The ends were slightly lighter than usual, almost a dark honey blonde, and it extended a little up the strands before evening out.
“It’s called ballayage.” she smiled at him. “I just fancied a bit of a change.”
“Looks good on you.” he smiled “I’m glad you had a nice time, you deserve it.”
“How was the mission?” she asked “Worth it?”
“Yes and no.” he shrugged “We have a few more leads we can chase up but…” he took a deep breath “I’m beginning to wonder what the point is. He clearly doesn’t wanna be found.”
“The point is he’s your friend, your brother.” Katie smiled, moving her hand to run her fingers over his jawline, the pads scratchings lightly against his 5-oclock shadow. “Maybe he just needs a bit of time to find himself first, that doesn’t mean you have to give up on him. Besides, I need to give him back his jacket.”
“And I need to thank him.” Steve said, “For getting my beautiful girl out and safe.”
“I can’t believe it’s been a year tomorrow since he found me.” she said softly
“Is that what’s been bothering you?” he asked.
“Huh?”
“The last few weeks you’ve not been yourself.”
She licked her lips and nodded “Yeah, I just…well, I didn’t give it much thought when we were on our honeymoon, you know, but since coming back and ramping up the Thrombey Campaign it’s kinda hit home a little.” And suddenly Steve understood. SIP were publishing the man’s latest book, “The Colour of Revenge” which was all about a Detective on the trail of a killer who was hunting down and dispatching of 6 men who had been acquitted of a gang rape and murder.
“Shit…” he let out a groan “Honey I…I’m so stupid not to realise that…” “Hey.”she frowned, “Don’t…” She reached up and smoothed the lines that had appeared on his brow and he let out a sigh, gently reaching up to lace his fingers with hers, bringing her hand towards him and placing a soft kiss on her wrist.
“It’s better now you’re home.” she said gently. He smiled and gave her a gentle kiss again.
“Is that everything?” he pressed and she hesitated again.
“I’m scared.” she said eventually, looking at him.
“Scared of what?”
“Going away, on my own.” she sighed, tears brimming in her eyes “I hate that they made me like this Steve.”
He let out a sigh, he hated that she was scared too. She didn’t deserve it.
“Why don’t I come with you?” he asked, the idea suddenly forming in his mind. She stilled for a moment and he continued “Not to the actual meeting, but I can drop you off and pick you up, hang around, whatever you want me to do.”
She looked up at him smiling softly, not even trying to pretend she wasn’t relieved he had offered. “Would you?”
“Of course.” he nodded, wiping the tears off her face. “You only had to ask.” “I didn’t want to.” she admitted “I know how busy you are here and…” “That can wait.” he said, holding her face in his hands as he drove his message home “you’re the most important thing in my life and if me coming with you makes you feel better then…” he shrugged “Besides, I’ve always wanted to go to Boston.”
“We can make a little trip out of it if you like?” she said, somewhat hopefully “Come back on the Saturday?”
“Sure.” he smiled at her. “Let’s do it.”
“Oh Stevie you’re gonna love it.” she beamed, and he smiled at the way her face had gone from being furrowed with worry to alive with excitement. “Massachusetts is amazing in the fall and Boston is just stunning…” “Well I’ll make sure I bring my sketch book.” he smiled “Give me something to do whilst you’re in the meeting.” “Thank you.” she said softly. “I’ll book us somewhere nice to eat one night. Give us an excuse to wear something pretty.”
“Like you need an excuse.” he teased, and she nipped him harshly on the arm. He chuckled and then with a groan he unwillingly pushed himself up off the bed.
“I need a shower.” he said, almost apologetically. “I won’t be long.”
“You better not be.” she muttered and he smiled, dropping a kiss to her forehead before he headed into the bathroom.
True to his word, he wasn’t long. 5 minutes, tops. But by the time he came back, the TV was off and Katie was fast asleep. Thinking back to what Tony had said, he found himself wondering if she had actually slept much at all whilst he was gone.
Steve dried himself off, stepped into a clean pair of boxers and then slid into the bed next to his wife, slipping his arms around her. Once her back was nestled snugly into his chest, he dropped a soft kiss to her neck and closed his eyes, happy to have her in his arms.
****
Steve woke the next morning to find his girl tangled around him. She’d shifted in the night, clearly, and now her face was pressed into his chest, right leg snaked between both of his, her right hand was slid under his arm, lightly gripping his shoulder whilst her left rested against her head, fingers in her hair. Smiling to himself he pulled her closer, relishing the feel of her against him. She murmured something incoherently as she gently moved, her cheek pressing into the hair on his chest, the hand around his shoulder slid down to the base of his back where her fingers simply rested, soft against his spine as she continued to sleep.
And Steve was quite happy to let her nap for longer, using him as her own personal cuddly toy.
He dozed in and out of consciousness again, drifting off for another 10 minutes or so, before he felt Katie stirring in his arms, and a soft kiss gently being pressed to his jaw line. He smiled at the contact and tightened his hold on her again, his eyes still closed.
“Morning beautiful.” he said softly, his voice still thick with sleep.
“Morning soldier.” she said, her cheek returning to his chest as she basked in the safety and warmth of his hold as his hand crept up the back of the stolen shirt she was wearing, his rough fingers ever so gentle against her skin as he trailed the pads up and down her spine.
“Sleep ok?” he asked, his eyes still not opening.
“Yeah.” she assured him, truthfully. It had been the best night sleep she’d had in days.
“Good. What do you fancy doing today?”
He felt her still and then she pulled back slightly, and at that he opened his eyes and blinked to see those gorgeous emeralds locked onto him.
“Are you not needed at the Compound?”
He shook his head “Kitten, I’ve not seen you for almost 3 days so I figured we deserved one together.”
She groaned “I have meetings this morning.” “That’s ok, I’ll meet you at lunch.” he said, tucking her hair behind her ear.
She didn’t argue. She knew full well why he’d taken the time out, and frankly she adored him for it. Without saying a word she leaned up and captured his lips in a gentle kiss that quickly became heated…but was shattered by the piercing noise of Katie’s alarm.
She gave a groan, and made to move.
“Don’t you dare…” Steve mumbled against her mouth, his grip on her tightening.
“Stevie…” she sighed “I gotta…”
He reached over, his large body flattening her into the mattress making her giggle as he swiped across the screen of her StarkPhone silencing it.
“You ain’t gotta do shit…” he said, hovering over her on his elbows. “Except me.” he added as an afterthought.
“Oh so you’re gonna to explain to the board why I’m late?” she looked at him.
“To be honest...” he said, dipping his head to trail hot kisses up the side of the next “...they probably won’t even notice you’re not there. I mean, are you really that important?”
“Fuck you.” she giggled back.
“Believe me, I’m tryin’” he quipped, his mouth nipping at her ear lobe. That made her giggle even more and she felt his lips curve into a smile against her skin.
“I love it when you do that.” he said gently, using his leg to part hers, leaving a large thigh pressed against her mound.
“What?”
“Laugh.” he said, his mouth moving up her jaw line “Makes me happy.”
“You’re such a sentimental sap.” she mumbled, as his lips claimed hers again, the heat between her legs intensifying as the kiss grew deeper, tongues lashing against one another. Steve pulled back for long enough to pull his shirt over her head before his lips returned to hers and Katie’s hand slid into his hair, one hand gently winding into the longer locks on top, her nails on the other dragging against the hairline on his neck. His hands moved, one gently cupping the side of her face, the other, gently skimming over her breast, her nipples already hardened. He gently teased one with the pad of his thumb and his mouth moved down to the other, his tongue and lips working in tandem. She gave a little involuntary twitch against his thigh and once more his lips quirked up into a smirk.
“You want something baby girl?” he asked, peeking up at her and she nodded.
“Stevie, don’t make me beg, please.”
And when she asked so nicely like that, how could he ever refuse? He hooked his fingers into the sleep shorts she was wearing and worked them down, before flipping down the waist band of his boxers. Katie bent her legs, as he shuffled upwards and worked into her, the pair of them letting out a groan each at the contact. Steve’s hands fell to either side of Katie’s face as he held himself up on his forearms, kissing her deeply as he flexed his hips forward, again and again, picking up a gentle rhythm.
It was soft, it was gentle, it was loving, everything she knew her soldier to be and it wasn’t long before he had her writhing and groaning loudly, his lips assaulting that spot on her neck.
“So good…” he groaned, his thrusts getting deeper. “Feel so good kitten…”
“Keep talking.” she keened, arching into him as her hands raked down his back.
“You were made for me, God I love you Mrs Rogers. So fucking much…” he said, his words punctuated by his heavy breaths as she gave a soft cry, her head falling backwards, eyes fluttering shut as she tightened around him, her legs shuddering slightly as she came.
“Atta girl.” he said, his hips becoming faster as he thrust through her orgasm, chasing his own. It wasn’t long before he felt the ribbons in his belly unravel and he came with a cry of his own, his head buried in her neck, hips slowing, thrusts going deeper before he eventually stilled, a loud contented sigh escaping his mouth.
After a few moments of them simply basking in the afterglow, Katie’s hands trailing through Steve’s ruffled hair as his nose slid against hers, she gave a sigh and pushed on his shoulders gently.
“Baby I really do need to get up.”
He pouted a little causing her to chuckle before he rolled off her and she pushed herself out of bed, heading for the en-suite. Steve watched her go before he swung his legs from under the covers,, found his boxers, pulled them on and headed down to the kitchen to make them both some coffee. *****
The idea had sprung to Katie as she’d headed out for lunch. The local shop was donating a percentage of its earnings that month to a homeless charity, and it set her mind whirring.
“So you want to donate, all the profit we make, from what is going to likely be the biggest book SIP will ever publish, to charity?” Tony looked at her.
“In a nutshell, yeah.” she said, nodding “We can split it across various charities, all those that help victims of sexual assault, abuse or crime…”
“Isn’t that what the Stark Relief Fund is for?” Saul, the SI Finance Director looked at her, and she nodded.
“Yes, but it isn’t just about the money…it’s about raising awareness.” she pressed “A lot of people don’t know those charities existed. Hell, I didn’t know about half of them until a year ago. If we do this, think of the publicity and the press and…”
She trailed off, looking at Tony. He could see the excitement shining in her eyes. She had a point, and it wasn’t like SI needed the money. SIP was her company after all, and if she wanted to use it to do something good, help people, maybe even help herself…then that was fine by him.
He shrugged and looked round the table “SIP’s vision was never about making money.” he said, and Katie beamed at her brother as she realised he was backing her “It was always about helping those who needed a hand to get their work out there…I don’t see why in this case, where they author is already so well-known we can’t use that to help those who need it.”
There was a pause and she looked expectantly round the table. One by one the board members seemed to concede, all of them that is bar their Legal Manager, Dan Robertson who was frowning.
“You’re going to have to bring Mr Thrombey on board Mrs Rogers.” he said, looking at her. “We can’t just use his book as part of a campaign without his permission.” “I know.” she said, nodding. “I’ve already realised that. I’m meeting him on Thursday next week, I’ll have a full proposal and pitch ready.”
There were a few murmurs around the table before Tony spoke “Is that it? Are we settled?”
Everyone looked at one another, nodding, and Katie leaned back in her chair, smiling.
But, she wasn’t smiling now. She had less than 24 hours before they set off for Boston and her pitch was only half way through completion.
“Sweetheart.” Steve’s hands slid over her shoulders where she sat on the chair in her office. She looked effortlessly elegant, even in sweats and an off the shoulder sweater, one toned leg stretched out in front of her, the other bent at the knee so her foot was resting on the seat of the chair, her left hand was curled around her shin, her right was tapping at her keyboard. “It’s late.”
“I know but…” She sighed, “This means a lot to me Steve…I need it to be right.”
Steve knew better than to argue. Instead he leaned over and kissed the side of her neck. “What are you stuck with?”
“I dunno it just…it all seems so impersonal.” she removed her glasses and wrinkled her nose as he sat down in the arm chair in the corner of the room “Facts and figures on sexual assaults and stuff…we all know it happens, it’s about making people want to do something about it.”
“Are you ready to make it personal?” he asked gently, taking a deep breath. He hated thinking about what she had gone through, he truly did, and if he had half a chance he’d rip the bastards limb from limb. But if she was ready to confront what had happened to her, he had to be there to support and back her all of the way, regardless of his own feelings.
“I don’t know.” she said softly “I was talking to Pepper about this the other day. I should be able to, I should be someone other women can look up to, being an Avenger and all but…maybe I’m just not strong enough.” “You’re the strongest person I know.” he leaned forward and locked eyes with her.
“I don’t feel like it when it comes to this.” she sighed.
“Honey…” he scratched at his head “Without wanting to sound flippant, since January this year, you’ve been, ok…well maybe ok isn’t the word but you’ve gotten on with things. You’ve moved forward, we both did.”
“Because we were busy, and we had no choice…”
“Well maybe…” he shrugged “But chasing down a sceptre, fighting Ultron, mobilising a new base, planning a wedding, running a business…it’s all time consuming, stressful stuff that if you really weren’t strong enough to deal with what happened, then it would have all gone to shit and probably tipped you over the edge into a nervous breakdown.”
She brushed a piece of hair behind her ear as she considered what he was saying.
“Honestly…” he continued, his eyes boring into hers. “If you want my opinion I think the fact that it’s the year’s anniversary of what happened that’s playing on your mind a little. You need to stop, look back and how well you’ve done and stop beating yourself up about all the things you haven’t”
She smiled softly and looked down at her hands before she glanced back up at him “When did you get so wise?” He chuckled “Well I am 97 years old.”
She laughed “You don’t look a day over 28.”
He smiled and stood up “I’m gonna make you a hot chocolate, and you’re gonna stop overthinking that and come relax, we’re up early tomorrow. You can do the rest at the hotel tomorrow evening.” “No can do, we’re going out.” she grinned at him “I booked the Chef’s table at Menton…”
“The what?” Steve frowned.
“You never heard of a Chef’s table?” she looked at him, and he shook his head “oh my God I’ve let you down…so badly. Check this out.” she tapped on her computer, bringing up the website and showed him the photos “It’s a private table with a glass wall that gives you a direct view into the kitchen. Totally impossible to get a reservation unless you book like a year in advance…or name drop.”
Steve groaned “You seriously dropped the Captain America wants a table line?”
“Yup” she popped the p as she smirked, closing down the browser page.
“Pain in my ass.” he grumbled, standing up. But as he left the office there was a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
One that his wife had seen.
*****
“So, was it worth a name drop?” Katie asked as they walked back into the Fireside Lounge located in their hotel.
“I’m happy to overlook the fact you acted like a total brat to make that reservation, yes.” he grinned as he went to remove her coat from her shoulders. He looked her up and down, the jump suit she was in was driving him crazy.
She grinned, and shivered slightly.
“Cold?” he asked, frowning.
“A little, don’t wanna sit in my coat though.”
“Do you want me to nip up to the room, grab your cardigan?”
“Would you?” she asked, even though she knew perfectly well he would.
“Course.” he said, dropping a kiss to her cheek “You get the drinks in, be right back.”
She headed over to the bar. The bartender, Will, was the same one who had been on before so he greeted her with a smile.
“Mrs Rogers. How was your meal?”
“Fantastic thank you.” she grinned “Can I get 2 Bourbon’s please? I’ll leave it to your choice, I’ll be back in a second, just need to nip to the bathroom.”
She excused herself and once she’d finally had the pee she’d been dying for since they left the restaurant, she set about touching up her make-up, smiling to herself. She’d deliberately picked this jumpsuit as she knew it got Steve’s blood pumping. It was a simple, plain black one with a V-neck line, but it was tight. Teamed with a thin red leather belt, red leather Jimmy-Choos and a matching bag all set off by the bright red lipstick she was sporting, she knew she looked good. Not that Steve had much room to talk, she could happily perve on him in the dark grey suit he was wearing, teamed with a black dress shirt, his collar left open…he looked good enough to eat, which she was planning on doing later.
She headed back into the bar and spotted Steve perched on one of the stools.
“Hey handsome” she said, slipping her arms round him from the back. But the moment she did that she realised something was off. He felt different, he was softer than Steve was. He smelt different, there was a really heavy woody scent to his aftershave whereas Steve’s preferred Hugo Boss or Gucci, depending on his mood, were both a lot lighter. And when the man spun to face her, although the likeness was indeed uncanny at first glance, his eyes were cold and calculating, his jaw line wasn’t quite as sharp as Steve’s and the smirk he wore on his face was nothing like the cheeky one Steve would sport. It was almost a sneer which spread across his face, every feature laced with disdain.
“What the fuck?” the man glared at her as Katie stepped back, holding her hands up in apology.
“I’m sorry, genuine case of mistaken identity…” she said, taking him in. His shirt was the wrong colour too, only she hadn’t been able to see that from the back.
“Yeah well if you’re touting for business I already got some today so get lost…” the man drawled in his light, Boston accent. “Like I just said I thought you were…hang on…” She frowned as his words registered “You already got some?”
“Yeah, that’s right.” he said, looking her up and down.
“You think I’m a hooker?” Katie snorted.
“Pretty high end one though, I’ll give you that.” the man said, nodding at her.
“I’m not a hooker.” she shook her head, laughing in disbelief.
“Oh, sorry. Do you prefer the term escort?” he raised an eyebrow.
She rolled her eyes, flashing her left hand at him. “I’m married, this was a genuine mistake….” she said, her temper rising slightly. She moved away from him to the side, nodding at Will who slid the check over for her to sign to charge the drinks to their room.
Ransom observed her for a moment, fighting the smirk that was threatening to break across his face. After another row with his stupid Libtard cousin and his mother who had been at his Grandfather’s house before, he’d come out with the sole intention of getting laid and then so drunk he could hardly remember his name. After a visit to one of his usual fuck buddies he’d achieved the first part, now he was concentrating on the second. He’d been initially irritated by this woman’s interruption, but now she was getting sassy back, and he wasn’t about to let it drop. He could tell she had money, that much was clear to see. The way she talked, held herself, was dressed. Whilst she wasn’t a hooker as he had originally thought (although to be fair to her, she was pretty hot, he’d consider fucking her if the opportunity arose) she was probably living off some 70 odd year old rich banker husband. A trophy wife. Huh, maybe she wanted a fuck after all…hell, he might not have to pay for it. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that.
“And does your husband know you’re here trying to tap me up?” he looked at her.
“You know, if I was trying to errr…tap you up, you wouldn’t be able to afford me” she shot back, signing her name on the cheque with a flourish.
“Try me.” Ransom shot back, making a show of looking her up and down. “How much for that ass?” “I’ll kick yours for free you self entitled dick.” she said, sliding the signed paper and pen back to the bartender.
Ransom gave a bark of a laugh “I’ll pass thanks.”
Katie snorted and glanced sideways at look at him, scarlet red lips pursed as she eyed him over her glass of bourbon. “Good decision, because I’ve dropped bigger men than you for fun.” “Sure you have Dollface” Ransom quirked an eyebrow, elbow leaning on the bar, angling his body towards her. She kept hers facing forwards, arms resting on the bar top, her head shaking slightly.
“You have no fucking idea who I am do you?” Katie shook her head, not looking at the prick stood next to her. She hated using that line, but, well, when the occasion arose to get one over on a weasely little shit like this, she wasn’t going to pass it up.
“Why should I?” he snorted “I don’t know all the little bitches in Boston.”
She felt her mouth drop open and she was about to retaliate when Steve gently appeared by her side, dropping her cardigan over her shoulders.
Ransom recognised him straight away. He’d had it quite often, been told he looked similar to Captain America. So this meant the woman he’d been baiting for the last 5 minutes was his wife, Katie Rogers, sister of Billionaire Tony Stark, the Avenger, Supernova.
He’d called Supernova a hooker.
Ransom looked into his glass of scotch, turning away back to the bar, snorting with laughter.
“Sorry baby, Sam called and…” Steve stopped, frowning at the look on Katie’s face. “You ok?”
“Fine.” she said, looking up at him, smiling and nodding towards a cosy sofa over at the other side of the bar. “You wanna go sit down over there?”
“Sure.” he said, picking up his glass of bourbon he held out his free hand for her and she jumped down off the stool.
“I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure.” She snarked to the man next to her “But I don’t lie so…”
Steve frowned, wondering what had gone down whilst he’d been away. He glanced at his wife and then turned to look at the guy that was sat on the stool next to where Katie had been to see if he recognised him and did a double take. He recognised him alright, but only because he looked incredibly like him. Granted, there were a few subtle differences, but the resemblance was uncanny, to the point that at a first glance in the street, you could be fooled.
“Pal, you should keep that bitch on a leash.” Ransom spoke, his eyebrows raising and in front of him Steve stiffened.
“What did you just say?” he frowned, pulling himself up to full height.
“Seriously, man. You save the world from Nazi’s, get frozen for 70 years and then end up marrying that.” Ransom smirked, enjoying baiting the Captain “I’d ask ‘em to put you back under…”
Steve’s nostrils flared and he felt his neck getting warmer. “Don’t you dare talk about my wife like that...”
“Steve, leave it, come on.” Katie said gently, patting Steve on the chest “The guy’s a complete ass hole. If brains were dynamite I doubt he’d have enough to blow his head off.”
“Well if we’re talking about blowing...” Ransom looked Katie up and down before locking onto her eyes. “You up for the job?
Katie let out a bark of a laugh, her hand still on Steve’s chest which was positively humming with anger as she turned to face Ransom, contempt etched across every single inch of her face.
“Go jerk yourself off and wipe it on a curtain like your father should have done with you.” she said.
“I’d rather wipe it in your hair.” came the quip back.
And that was it. That was the point that Steve Rogers snapped.
There was a loud smash, the glass he was holding shattered in his grip as his fist contracted in pure anger. Katie barely had time to realise what had happened before he had stepped forward and grabbed Ransom by the front of his shirt, lifting him and slamming him on the bar.
“Steve!” she said, pulling on his arm. “Baby he really isn’t worth it, let go!”
“Captain Rogers!” Will behind the bar was desperately trying to talk him down as well “Please, don’t make me call security.”
Security! Steve wanted to snort. Like that would do any good.
“Baby, come on…” Katie tried again, pleading to his reasonable side. “Look, we’ve had such a nice night. Don’t let him ruin it.”
Steve let out a deep breath, he wanted nothing more than to knock the asshole’s teeth down his throat, but he felt Katie’s touch on his arm and her pleading tone and he let go, shoving the man hard.
“I would tell you to apologise.” Steve snarled stepping back. His voice was steely, eyes carrying none of their usual warmth “But I suspect it’s pointless”
“Yup.” Ransom nodded “Totally pointless.”
“Like your existence.” Katie mumbled, Ransom snorting in response. “Look, Drysdale, my manager’s told you before.” Will said, his voice laced with vexation as he shuffled from behind the bar to sweep up the glass that Steve had shattered. “Any more trouble and you’re gonna be banned.”
Ransom’s nostrils flashed angrily as he looked at the man “’I’m gonna be banned? Eat shit, he’s the one that just attacked me! He ripped my shirt!” he gestured down to where Steve had grabbed him, two tears either side of the buttons of his shirt “This is a Fendi!”
“Ransom, just shut up and apologise.” Will pressed again, “Or you’re gonna have to leave.”
“Fuck this, I was going anyway.” Ransom snarled, knocking back his drink. He stood up and pulled on a long, tan coloured camel coat before he glared at Steve then Katie “Really bad smell in here.”
Katie rolled her eyes, deciding to let him have that childish one without any fuss. But Steve didn’t.
“Close the door on your way out.” He watched as the man stopped, took a deep breath before angrily flinging the door open, his coat flapping behind him. There was a moment’s pause before it slammed shut.
“Sorry.” Steve turned, apologising to Will.
“He’s a dirt bag and a cretin.” Will shrugged, as he waved the apology off. “No redeeming features whatsoever. Well, none that I’ve seen and trust me, I’ve seen him a hell of a lot.”
“Is your hand ok?” Katie asked Steve gently. She turned his right hand over to see that there were no cuts at all from the glass, which was good.
“Yeah, fine, don’t worry.” Steve looked at her, frowning. “Honey, what on Earth just happened?” he asked her softly, as she took a deep breath, blowing it out of her mouth.
“I went to the bathroom and when I came back, well, I thought he was was you from behind so gave him a hug.” she shook her head “Soon as I touched him I realised I was very, very wrong. I tried to apologise and he called me a hooker.”
“A hooker?” Steve repeated, arching an eyebrow.
“Yeah, so I told him even if I was he wouldn’t be able to afford me.”
At that Will, who had been busy pouring them both another drink, laughed as he slid 2 short tumblers of bourbon back over to them. “He won’t have liked that at all.”
Steve nodded his thanks to the man as Katie looked at him. “How come?” she asked.
“Well, Ransom’s mother likes to claim she’s a self-made millionaire. Fails to mention the million dollar loan her dad gave her to start up her business like, but that’s by the by. Simply put, his family one way or another are loaded, and Ransom likes to be the flash bastard if you get what I mean.”
“What do his family do?” Katie asked, “I’ve never even heard of the Drysdales, and I’m pretty well connected…”
“His mother and father run some real Estate Company.” Will shrugged, “A local one round Massachusetts, but you’ll have heard of his grandfather, or if you haven’t you’ve been living under a rock for the last 20 years.” “Who?” she asked.
“Harlan Thrombey, the crime fiction author.” Will said, and Katie felt the colour drain from her face. She turned to look at Steve whose eyes had also widened, and she gave a groan.
“Shit.”
@the-omni-princess @momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @thewackywriter @marvelfansworld @cobalt-gear @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13 @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @navispalace @patzammit @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @icanfeelastormbrewing @djeniiscorner @ayamenimthiriel @coldmuffinbanditshoe @disneylovingal @madzmilllz @sgtjaamesbaarnes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork
#stark spangled banner#knives out#steve rogers x original female character#steve rogers x oc#steve rogers#captain america#tony stark#iron man#ransom drysdale#mcu#mcu fanfiction#marvel#marvel fanfiction#avengers#avengers fanfiction#cross over#americas asshole#americas ass
102 notes
·
View notes
Text
an interview with @changingthefairy-tale
What are you working on right now? Right now, I’m focused on BellarkeFic-for-BLM (I just got an amazing canon prompt I’m really excited to finish). I’ve also been participating in this round of the Chopped Challenge, which has been fun and challenging. In between prompts, I’ve got two WIPs that I’m slowly cranking through. Shoutout to every single reader who’s been incredibly patient while I’ve been so slow on those updates — though, reminder that you can donate to a BLM organization (even a $3 donation works) and request an update to get those higher on my prio list while I’m focused on that initiative.
What’s something you’d like to write one day? My absolute dream job and the ultimate goal is to become a showrunner for a prime time TV show. I love TV shows — I love the way actors and directors and crew take a script and breath life into it, I love how you take a general idea for a story and mold it into something amazing as you go, I love how a series gives a story more time to be fleshed out and explored, I love the concept of a writers room and collaborating on a story. It’s a different ballgame from fic writing (which I do for fun) and travel writing (which I do for a living), but I’m determined to make it happen. JRoth, I’m coming for your job, babe. 😉
What is the fanwork you’re most proud of? I’m still really new to fic writing, especially compared to some of the powerhouse writers in this fandom. And I’m sure one of my WIPs (when finished) will probably supersede this. BUT, my one-shot about Madi calling Bellamy on The Ring (She called you for 2,199 days) is something I’m really proud of. I’m a long-winded writer, so one-shots have never come naturally to me. This one just…clicked. It’s got some good lines in there that I’m proud of, and based on the feedback I’ve gotten, it really made readers feel something and connect to the story. It’s not my longest story or my most thought-out. But it shows my growth as a writer these past few months, and I’m proud of that.
Why did you first start writing fic? I started writing fic as a creative outlet for my writing. My day job is writing about travel and credit cards. And while I enjoy that, it’s just not as creative. My dream is to write for a TV show though, and I was craving a way to flex my creative writing muscles in a low-stress way. I started watching The 100 when it first came out, but I didn’t really get into the fandom until I came back to the show during the S5/6 hiatus. That’s when I started reading fics and reblogging stuff about the show on Tumblr. During the S6/7 hiatus, I had this idea for a Greys Anatomy AU, and my sister (who is also a major fan of the show) was like, “You literally write things for a living. If you want to write a Grey’s AU for t100, there is absolutely nothing stopping you.” I published my first chapter on that The Choices We Make in Dec. 2019, and the rest is history.
What frustrates you most about fic writing? For me, I think that the most frustrating thing isn’t even about fic writing itself; it’s the fact that it’s a side-hobby and not something I can dedicate my full attention to. When you write all day for your day job, then do some for your freelance gig, and then turn around and try to write for a few hours every night for fic… that gets hard sometimes — especially since starting quarantine where I’m not traveling, going out with friends, getting a break from it, etc. Fic writing is a creative release for me, and I absolutely love crafting and writing these stories that involve some of my favorite fictional characters. And I love interacting with other writers and fic readers, I love talking about ideas and exchanging headcanons and fangirling over my favorite writers’ works. But (because there’s always a but), sometimes I just don’t have the mental energy or capacity to write at the end of the day when I’ve turned in 3 deadlines for work. I’ve got all these ideas floating in my head, but only so much time and mental energy I can dedicate to it.
What are your top five songs right now? Oh boy. So I live alone, which means I’ve got either music or Netflix on in the background 24/7 because ya girl doesn’t like silence. I have a different playlist for different moods. I’ll share my fav song from each of those playlists. Lol Fvck Somebody by The Wrecks (On my “Summer state of mind” playlist for when I wanna dance it out in my kitchen like an idiot)
Don Quixote by Drapht (On @talistheintrovert’s “My Good Bitch Murphy” playlist for when I’m feeling *edgy*)
that way by Tate McRae (On my “Pandemic Jams” playlist bc I like angsty music and this song is a Bellarke MOOD)
Washington on Your Side from Hamilton (On my “Feeding my Broadway Obsession” playlist for when I wanna sing show tunes and plot overthrowing the government)
Tea by Noah Davis (Shameless plug for Noah bc it’s a bop and I literally dated Noah’s older brother in junior high — so proud of this kid for making his dreams a reality)
What are your inspirations (books, songs, other fic, really good cake)? All of the above, except I like pie more than cake. lol But really, I kind of use everything around me for inspiration. “The Choices We Make” is inspired by my love of Grey’s Anatomy. “Intertwining your soul (with somebody else)” is inspired my the first draft of my YA novel (though the setting was adapted to a grounder canonverse AU). “The Day He Shut That Rocket Door” and “She called you for 2,199 days” were inspired by @historyofbellarke‘s headcanons that were brought up in S7 speccing conversations (shoutout to her for enabling my angsty ass). My most recent WIP “There are some things written in the stars” that I started as part of Chopped (but will continue because I’m obsessed with the idea) is inspired by my love of Timeless. And I have an entire Notion database filled with fic ideas — some one-shots and some multi-chapter fics — that are inspired by quotes, songs, conversations with friends, books I love, shows I adore, random HCs that pop into my head while I watch, my own life experiences, etc. I take inspiration in any form it decides to come in. 💕
What first attracted you to Bellarke? What attracts you now? I’m a ho for enemies to lovers — the idea that you can put your worst foot forward and show someone all the ugly parts of you… and that they’ll see that and somehow look past it to see the good stuff too, falling in love with your whole self instead of just the pretty parts. Yeah, it’s my favorite romance trope. And that tension is what originally drew me to Bellarke. Now, it’s a combination of things. I love each of these characters in their own right. I relate to Clarke in a lot of ways, and I aspire to be her level of badass. I straight adore Bellamy Blake (flaws, stupid decisions, and all) and would marry him in a heartbeat if he were real — I’m not even kidding. lol But I also love their dynamic. They are partners, best friends, perfect compliments to the other. They see each other in a way no one else does, and they are the one person the other constantly risks everything for. They are both so driven by their responsibilities to their people, yet that all typically goes out the window the moment the other is at risk. I don’t believe in soulmates in real life, but it’s nice to get to believe in this fictional world that they are just made for each other.
BESIDES Bellarke, what character or pairing do you like best on t100? My favorite character besides Bellarke is John Murphy. His arc has been BY FAR the best on this show, going from that little shit in S1 to this “asshole we love” in the middle to now a true hero in this final season. And through it all Richard Harmon has been amazing to watch on screen.
My favorite pairing besides Bellarke is Linctavia. Yes, that ship is problematic in a lot of ways, but I still loved their dynamic. Lincoln helped Octavia navigate this new world that she was so desperate to be apart of while being mindful of her safety. And I thought they were a good match — he helped tame her fire without putting it out, and she helped challenge the way he was raised. Given time, I think they could have become one of the most stable and loving relationships on t100. Of course, that couldn’t happen because Jason needed Bell’s actions in 3A to have heartbreaking consequences, O to spiral for her own character journey, and whatever mess happened off-screen between Ricky and him. But they still remain my favorite ship aside from Bellarke.
Why did you decide to start writing for bellarkefic-for-blm? The second I saw that Sam was planning on doing this, I reached out to ask how I could help/write/be involved. The BLM movement is so important, and this is an amazing way for me to contribute while pursuing my passions. It’s a way for the fandom to get involved and do something good. And ultimately, this helps organizations that need donations. Shameless plug for everyone to please go check out the Bellarke Fic for BLM page — check out the many amazing writers and artists we have participating, and send in prompts. Most of us are allowing WIP chapter update requests, and there are a number of us (myself included) who are matching donations made! No donation is too small, and you’ll be supporting a movement that is a necessity in the U.S. and beyond.
What’s your writing process like? My mind is literal chaos, so I plan and outline like hell in order to make sense of everything. When I get an idea for a fic, it goes on my Notion database. Within Notion, I write down my inspiration for the idea, and a pretty in-depth summary of where I want the fic to go — dialogue ideas, any feelings/emotions I want to invoke, literally just a brain dump of all my ideas. From there, I’ll arrange that brain dumb into an outline. If it’s a one-shot, I’ll generally write the whole thing in the Notion doc. But multi-chapter fics will get a checklist within Notion for me to keep track of progress, and I’ll actually write the fic in Google Docs. I generally start writing from the beginning of a story, but if I get stuck or have an idea for a later scene, the fact that I’ve outlined heavily allows me to jump around as ideas come to me. I’ll read each one-shot or chapter after I’m done to make sure it flows before publishing. I post chapters for my WIPs as I write them, which I should really stop doing. lol For my readers’ sakes, I should work ahead and publish on a schedule rather than making them wait for my slow ass to finish chapter to chapter. But right now, that’s my process!
What are some things you’d like to recommend? Oh goodness, too many fics to possibly name. Instead, I’ll link to my AO3 rec bookmarks (which isn’t all-inclusive of the amazing fics I’ve read in this fandom, but it’s got some good favs in there) and shout out all of our awesome Bellarke Fic for BLM writers. Y’all should check out their work (and send in prompts)!
Where’s the best place to find you (twitter? tumblr?) I’m @changingthefairy-tale on Tumblr and @changingthefairy_tale on AO3! My ask box is always open for anyone who wants to scream about the show, ask about specs, talk about my fics, etc. Come say hey!
#bellarkefic for blm#bellamy blake#clarke griffin#john murphy#bellarke#bellarkefic for blm interviews
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
if you’re not the bride (deluxe version)
So you may be wondering why is it you're seeing this. Hello, it is I again. If you're here, maybe you're familiar with the original "if you're not the bride', which I posted about three years ago. In case you're not, then, hello, welcome, when I was 15 I wrote a story under this same title. Then forgot all about it. But every so often someone would come across this story and I was reminded of its existence. Then, back in september 2019, I decided to read it again, correct some grammar and call it a day, you know, just so I could rest assured I hadn't written something horrible. Turns out, it got a bit out of hand and I decided to rewrite the whole thing. However, due to the fact that college is the worst, I never finished it and, well, forgot about it, again. Now, as quarantine came around, I found my rewrite from 6 months ago and since I got the time why not, right? This is now more than double the size of the original and has a lot more of backstory than intended. You can still find the original with some corrections here on AO3 and , and the cursed unedited version somewhere on tumblr for the sake of nostalgia. Warnings: There's cursing, some drinking and good old make outs. July 2020 edit: here I am, re-edting this thing again. This all said, welcome folks, to the deluxe version:
"You're going to what?!" Agatha raised her voice, tightly holding her phone to her ear. Surely, she must have heard Sophie wrong. Her friend did have a reputation for being over the top, but this was beyond absurd.
When people said that being friends with Sophie was…an exotic experience, they weren't completely wrong, per say. Being friends with Sophie could be a lot like being friends with a hungry animal. She was ruthless, dangerous and not trustworthy about 60% of the time. Sophie would do most anything to get whatever she wanted and absolutely would step over you in the process (sometimes for no reason other than because it amused her to do so). It wasn't personal, mostly. It was simply her nature.
For her, there were two kinds of people: her friends and her enemies. It was very easy to go from one category to another and anything in between simply couldn't be processed by her brain.
Sophie was a difficult person.
Agatha could tell you in more detail, she would know. Being Sophie's best friend wasn't exactly a dream come true. It had its perks of course, and when all was said and done, Sophie was an okay-ish person and a mostly good friend, but you gotta give it up to Agatha; it was no task for the weak-hearted.
They had been friends since kindergarten and were as different from one another as it gets. Had they met later in life, Agatha is certain they would've never become friends at all. Sophie was a loud, gorgeous (and kinda mean) blonde bombshell and Agatha was a grumpy, average-looking mostly nice girl (she wouldn't call herself kind, really, her niceness was more of a subproduct of her aloofness than anything else). The two of them disagreed in most anything and had not that much in common. Yet, it somehow worked. They argued a lot, as in, a lot, but it was always fixed within a weeks' time, in a coffee shop, over a good old vanilla latte and some black tea.
An odd pair, to say the least.
Which was fine by them. Sophie… was a work in progress. She was trying.
Nevertheless, every once in a while, something like this would happen. Because Sophie was still Sophie and her head worked in mysterious ways.
"I'm getting married, Aggie," Agatha could practically hear the blonde rolling her eyes on the other side of the device, "people do that all the time. It's, like, a thing."
"Sophie, you're not even done with college yet! Getting married with what money? As far as I know, your modeling barely pays your rent and don't even get me started on your student loan and credit card debt! And getting married to whom? Last time I checked, you weren't even going out with anyone!" She tried to cool her head, catching her breath while trying to recall any possible groom Sophie could have taken. "Unless… Are you marring Hort?"
A disgusted groan was heard.
"Ew, no. Not Hort, for God's sake. What do you think I am? Desperate?"
A bit, but Agatha didn't dare say it out loud.
Hort was a guy who lived at the apartment just below Sophie's, in a tiny complex downtown. They've known each other for quite a long time now. It was practically common knowledge that Hort acquired the biggest crush on her the moment he first laid eyes on her. It was all the old ladies from 1A and 2C ever talked about.
Over the years, he became quite easy on the eyes, even Sophie had to admit it. No longer the scrawny awkward kid that helped Agatha drag Sophie's couch upstairs (while Sophie flirted with the trucker, trying to get free shipping for her mattress, which, by the way, she got), but a fully formed man, completely jacked, and with a growing bank account to match, due to his fitness-program-thingy taking off. Agatha didn't really know the details of that, but she knew it was going well, mostly because Sophie told her so.
Anyway, he claimed to not want anything to do with her friend nowdays.
Yeah, right.
Agatha felt bad for him, she really did.
Loving Sophie was like loving a hurricane. Violent, brutal and downright painful.
She had initially assumed it would go away with time, that he would eventually see that they weren't compatible and let it go.
However, it was a bit more complicated than that, as most things in life tend to be.
She knew he and Sophie had hooked up, in fact, she knew that they did so often. Sophie hadn't told her, but she didn't need to. Agatha knew. The aftermath was never good, and for the sake of keeping things short and lighthearted, Agatha shall spare you the angst and just say that, as mentioned above, Sophie was fantastic at getting whatever she wanted and disregarding other people's feelings.
Honestly, Hort could say he wasn't into Sophie all he liked. At the end of the day, he was still living at that shitty apartment (even though he could probably have moved somewhere better a long time ago), hadn't seriously dated anyone since meeting her and was responsible for at least half of Sophie's modeling gigs, which were her friend's main source of income. Agatha had warned him, several times, mind you, but all you can do is all you can do. The heart wants what it wants, she presumes.
"If not Hort, who then?"
"Oh, you don't know him yet," She could practically see Sophie twirling a golden lock on her fingers, a mischievous smirk on her face.
"Clearly," Agatha rolled her eyes and put her phone on speaker to be able to look around for her keys more comfortably. Reaper, her cat, had a bad habit of hiding them in the weirdest places. "Why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone last time we went out for coffee?"
"Because I wasn't seeing anyone at the time," the blonde-haired woman sounded a bit annoyed, seemingly not understanding why Agatha was having such a hard time believing her ludicrous story.
"Sophie."
"Yes, Aggie?"
"That was literally three weeks ago."
"It's true love, Agatha. I can feel it. This is my real-life fairytale. I found the perfect guy for me. He's so different from anyone I've ever met…" Agatha tuned her out, finally realizing what was going on.
For Sophie, everyone she dates is her one true love. She was intense like that. There were lots of "perfect guys" on the list, too many, and eventually Agatha grew tired of counting them. Neither did she remember their names. Why bother, when Sophie would grow tired of them soon enough?
Her friend's drug of choice just so happened to be was serial dating with lots of love-bombing on the side.
Parents got divorced? Look at this cute basketball player that will probably cheat on me.
Bad day at a shoot? Oh, that barista is so sexy, bet he'll hook up with me anyway.
I have no idea where my career is going and hate my major? Why not call Hort up, right?
But getting actually married? That's new.
Agatha sighed, picking up her keys from the pot of her balcony plant. Time to be the be the grown-up. Again.
"Sophie, are you 100% sure you want to get married to this guy? Can't you wait a few months at least? How about you guys move in with each other first?" If Sophie doesn't tire of him, that would terrify the poor thing into ending this madness. Again, Agatha would know. She had to stay at Sophie's for a few weeks once, back when she had split with a partner whom she had been living with; it was hell on earth.
"Weren't you hearing, Aggie? We. Are. Soulmates. He is very serious about me. He's so in love with me, he would never hurt me, and I need to tie him down before he runs away. Isn't this what people always say?" Her friend's voice was getting snappy. Oh, no, not good.
"Sophie, I just think you should be more careful and reasonable…" Agatha tried to pacify, tiredly.
Did she not own any clean jeans? Damn. Why does she keep forgetting to do her laundry? The blue skirt she wore to work would have to do.
"It's always reason, with you, Agatha! You never listen to your heart! I thought you would be happy for me! You're always telling me just how much potential I have! He brings out the best in me! What do you even know about relationships anyway, you always end up ru-"
"SOPHIE!" She interrupted, before her friend could say something she'd regret and crush whatever good mood was left in Agatha's body. "I'm just surprised, that's all. Tell me about this guy…?"
Fuck it, she decided. Agatha was in currently in a hurry and this could be solved later. She wasn't going to be able to win Sophie over the phone. Maybe she could sit her down on sunday, have one long talk about red flags in relationships, again. Convince her to stay engaged for a bit longer, just enough for her to get bored and then call it all off as soon as the new whats-his-face walks through the door.
Now was not the moment to be arguing, especially if she wanted to be on time.
"…And he's so great and wonderful, he's tall, has these hypnotizing eyes, they're so intense, it's like they suck you in, Aggie! His hair is just wow, it's a very uncommon shade of blonde, the undertone is beautiful, so expensive-looking... but it's natural, he swears. And his skin is so soft, you wouldn't believe, his name is…"
Agatha tried to listen. She really did. However, all she could hear was "bla, bla, bla, perfect, bla, bla, bla, handsome". Lord, not this again. Did it get worse every time...?
The brunette stuffed her wallet in a handbag, grappling to close it (it had been a present from Sophie, and as such, probably hardwired to annoy her and look good at the same time), and gave herself a look over in the mirror, before frowning. Oh, time for her limited make-up skills to be of use.
Damn, she looked rough. She left in hurry that morning, so her bare face stared back at her in its full sleepless-racoon glory.
It has been a long week of nothing but late nights trying to get her workload done. She couldn't believe she was saying this, but she missed college. At least back then she didn't have to worry about rent. Oh, to be young, broke, dead-inside and living on a dorm. The wonders, truly.
Concealer, blush, eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick. There. Done.
Kinda?
"… So, are you up to it?"
What.
"… Hm, sure?" She responded, still trying to evaluate if her liner was acceptably symmetrical. It wasn't. It never was, but it wasn't always this bad. Really, not her best work. Maybe she could fix it, somehow?
"That's amazing, you'll look so pretty, the dress I picked is perfect for your undertone, you'll be the best maid-of-honor ever!"
Oh, god, no. No way. What has she done?
Should she do that red-flag-talk now?
"How… nice of you to say that," Agatha replied, barely contained horror coming across in her tone. Not that Sophie paid her any attention.
"I set the date for the engagement brunch-party for tomorrow around 10am. At the terrace. And speaking of dates, I must introduce you to someone, he's great, Aggie, and I think you guys could…"
No. No. No. Agatha is drawing the line here.
"Oh really, cool, hey I have to go, callyoulaterbye-"
Agatha throws her phone on the bed, groaning loudly. Reaper stirs in her pillow, but is otherwise unbothered by the conversation, unlike his owner.
Of all things… getting married. Agatha was now her bridesmaid. Engagement brunch…?
Sophie, why. Why?
Agatha was now an accomplice of this crime against good judgement, wasn't she? Should she call Sophie again…?
Ugh, you know what? She'll sort this out this later. Sophie could wait a few hours, Agatha earned this night out.
…This totally is going to come back to bite her, isn't it?
Well, too late, Agatha's leaving. Because, unlike Sophie, who clearly had too much free time in her hands, Agatha had things to do and couldn't just waste her precious friday nights on this kind of bullshit.
.
.
.
"You're late," is the first thing Hester says to Agatha, not even lifting her gaze from her phone as she approaches their table.
It was the usual one, right by the wall, perfectly placed so it was far enough from the dance floor but close enough to the bar, so it was still socially acceptable to be seated but not too "loser-zoned", in Hester's own words.
Hester herself looked the same as always. Dressed head-to-toe in black and showing off an impressive number of tattoos per square inch of skin, she made quite the intimidating sight. The only tip to her actual day job was the discarded white blazer and sleek suitcase lying on a chair beside her. Back in school, Agatha used to find it hard to picture Hester being anything but a witchy-biker or a badass-tattoo-artist, but she supposed scary-lawyer suited her friend just fine.
"Nice to see you too, Hester. I've been well, thanks for asking," Agatha sits down, annoyed. She knows she's late. She missed the "early-comers, free entrance" time, and damn if the isn't pissed that she's now 15 bucks broker then she already was. "Anadil, Dot, it's great to see you guys too"
Both women acknowledge her presence quietly: Anadil nods,before getting up from her spot and leaving to god-wishes-he-knew-where and Dot hugs her briefly, headed to the bar.
Hester rolls her eyes and repeats herself.
"You're late."
"Shut up, I'm here, aren't I?!" Agatha snaps, before she bit her lip and propped her elbows onto the table, head in her hands.
The gesture makes Hester lift her eyes from the phone, finally.
"Well, someone's had a bad day."
"Look, I'm sorry. It's been one looong horrid day. Have you ordered any drinks? Or are we going for beer tonight?" Agatha asks, going over the familiar menu, even though she has every beverage price there already memorized.
"Okay, slow down," Hester yanks the menu out of her hands. "Have you eaten? I'm not going to take care of you if you didn't."
Yes, she would, but that's not relevant.
"Yes, mom," Agatha rolled her eyes. "I'm tired, tomorrow is gonna suck, let's drink."
"Tomorrow? Tomorrow's saturday, loser, sleep to your hearts content," Hester reminds her, but at seeing Agatha stare back at her in misery it occurred to her what, or rather, who, this was about.
"Blondie has been texting me non-stop about brunch. At 10. What's up with that?" She lifts a brow, her judging eyes scanning Agatha's expression. Agatha in turn, lets her elbows drop and bangs her head onto the table, harder than originally planned, a whimper leaving her lips.
Hester sighs. She loves Agatha to the death, but when it comes to Sophie, she has always been way too forgiving. Agatha was not Sophie's mother, she shouldn't have to look out for her and bend over backyards to help her. Personally, Hester and Sophie didn't get along very well.
Which lead to: Sophie never invited Hester anywhere, unless she wanted to rub something in Hester's face.
"...Apparently, she's getting married in, like, two weeks?" Hester's brows lift in surprise. "...To some guy I don't know?" Higher. "...And I'm a bridesmaid?" Almost disappearing into her hairline by now.
Awkward pause.
"Okay," Hester breathes in and out, "what the actual hell?"
"My words exactly."
"She'll be over it in a week," the tattooed woman deadpans.
"No doubt," the other replies.
Three more seconds go by, and it's far too long for Agatha, whose leg starts to twitch under the table.
"You're doing it again," she states.
"Doing what?" Hester asks, crossing her arms, lying back at her chair.
"That thing."
"What thing?"
"You know," Agatha vaguely gestures at Hester's face, "that thing your eyebrows do when you're being judgy."
"I am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"I so need a drink right now," she tells her before leaving the table.
.
.
.
At the bar counter, Agatha sits down on a stool and waits for the bartender, Chaddick, to show up, ignoring Hester's glare on her back.
Now for some unnecessary backstory, in case you're interested: Agatha and Chaddick had a bit of history (read, beef) long before this club, The Woods, opened and even before Agatha and Hester started to have their monthly night-out there.
Chaddick was a jock whom Agatha went to school with, all the way from sixth grade to senior year of high school. To be brief, he was the worst ™. He made fun of her, tormented her days, spread rumors about her (including one that she was witch, which lasted for years) and even stole her stuff once. In senior year, he had even developed this habit of showing up with his friends at the tea place her mother owned, where she had worked a few shifts from time to time, ordering not a single drop of fucking tea, being loud and annoying for hours and only leaving when closing hour neared.
Agatha was sure that if you googled 'jackass', his picture would turn up. He'd been so full of himself, all because he had some cash, was athletic and was "cute", you know, in that white-upper-middle-class-way that most school-aged popular boys tended to be. But then, flash-forward: Chaddick now worked wednesday to saturday as a bartender at Agatha's favorite club. Apparently, his parents went bankrupt or something during college. Agatha felt kinda bad for him, but not really? She supposed he wasn't as terrible of a human being nowadays, but she was not about to go ahead and call him her friend, no matter how many times she had to make small talk with him for the sake of bar etiquette.
"So what's it gonna be today?" The bartender asked, not quite politely, but she lets it slide, for she could tell he was as thrilled about this conversation as her.
Chaddick, too, looks the same, to no one's surprise. He looked more tired, but still douchey enough that Agatha didn't feel too horrible of a person for not feeling as sorry for him as she probably should.
"Surprise me. I've had a very bad day."
"Is Sophie actually up to something then?" He asks while grabbing some bottles, "I hear there's going to be a brunch-party tomorrow…?"
"Who told you? Reena?" Chaddick dismisses the name casually with his hand. "Gisele?" 'no', he denies with his head. "Beatrix then?" he nods, uncharacteristically shy, and Agatha nearly felt pleased, before she remembered what they were talking about before. "Bingo. But yes, there's a brunch-party tomorrow. An engagement brunch-party."
He hands her a cup, wide-eyed, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"Engagement? Do I even wanna know w-"
"You don't. Trust me on this," Agatha cuts him off, taking a sip of the beverage. She doesn't recognize its taste, which makes her wary. She knows her alchool. "What did you even put here?"
"It's a secret, tonight's special," he winked mockingly, before hurrying on to the next client.
Agatha briefly wonders if she should drink the rest of it, eyeing the cup curiously. It didn't smell bad and she kind of liked the taste. Should she trust Chaddick? Probably not. Then again, Agatha needed a drink tonight.
It would be fine. She is no lightweight, Hester is here, tomorrow's saturday. Right?
Another thing that would probably bite her later. So, she braces herself and downs the cup in a few large sips, heading back to her table.
Bring it on.
.
.
.
Two other cups of who-knows-what and an hour later, Agatha was back at the bar, now sitting in different stool, as far from Chaddick as she possibly could be, when a body drops on the sit next to her.
It's Dot, giggling loudly like a high school girl on heavy drugs.
The giggling persists for quite some time.
... It's kinda creeping Agatha out.
"Penny for your thoughts…?" She tries, taking a sip of her drink.
No response.
Giggle.
More silence.
"Hm, Dot?"
She continues to stare at her joyfully, still smiling like a madwoman.
Agatha found Dot adorable and friendly, which was a surprise since she was one of Hester's best friends. The two of them weren't really that close themselves, but she did enjoy her company. Being friends with Dot was as easy as it was harmless.
"Don't look, but there's a really hot guy right by the pool table who hasn't been able to take his eyes off you for the last fifteen minutes."
Agatha's eyebrows shot up in Hester-like fashion and she fights the instinct to turn around and check if Dot isn't messing with her.
She knows she is not the most attractive female in the room. Agatha tends to think of herself as more of an acquired taste, truly. Yet, every blue moon someone would come over to try their luck with her. Sometimes they're cute, sometimes they're funny and sometimes they're just desperate. So far, "hot guys" haven't really been her target demographic.
"So what? What's the big deal?" She tries to keep her nerves out of her voice, mostly succeeding, but Dot's smile only grew more and more mischievous, as if seeing right through her.
"Turn around. I dare you not to remember him. Pretty sure Sophie told you about how she met him again a few weeks ago, at that event she went to? The one sponsored by Camelot International?"
…Okay, so Agatha might be a bit of a bad friend. She didn't listen to 90% of Sophie's rants about guys or modeling events, so most likely she had told her about him as Agatha did something else. Something important, really.
…Like playing games on her tablet.
She worked a lot, okay? Can't have people hogging all her free time. Even if it was Sophie. Her best friend.
Shit.
Agatha's face must have betrayed her because Dot laughed even louder than before.
"You seriously don't?" she managed to ask between giggles, as Agatha blushed, frowning.
"I should?"
"Most likely yes. Sometimes you're way too funny, you know?" Her smile was dangerous. Stop smiling at Agatha like that, woman.
It was at times like this she could see why Hester and Dot were such good friends.
"Thanks, I think?" Agatha eyes her companion carefully "How hot is this guy any…"
"Hot enough for you to talk to me, I hope," a male voice announced behind her, seemingly amused.
Not her day. Definitely not her day.
"He's right behind me?!"
Dot giggled loudly a final time before walking away to Hester's table. Very helpful. Forget what Agatha said about liking Dot. She didn't. Dot was a horrible person.
Agatha turned on her heels, facing the stranger with a sheepish smile. She was not ready for what was about to bite her.
Oh damn, please do.
…Figuratively, fuck. She meant in a figurative way.
Before we go on, Agatha would like to clarify that she blames any less than pure thoughts on Chaddick, because who knows what he put into her drink.
(Yeah, it's totally Chaddick's fault)
Amen, praise Jesus, okay?
Embarrassingly, her first instinct is to say that yes, he was totally hot enough to talk to her. Or come home with her. Or marry her (too soon for this joke, scratch that). That's not what she did, however. Oh, no, she stood there, in silence, and stared for quite a while before her brain rebooted and she finally gained control of her own body again.
Agatha is the first in line to advocate on why you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but she had eyes.
He was tall. As tall, if not taller than her, and Agatha was a tall woman. His jeans looked expensive and his light blue social shirt was tight on his chest, almost as if it were a size too small, the top buttons open, defined muscles visible to even the most casual observer. The shirt was paired with a grey-ish tie that hanged loosely around his neck, a bit too effortless-looking to be unintentional. His features were sharp, sculpted even, a certain California-sunny-surfer meets Adonis-next-door quality to them. Soft blond locks had an unnatural shine under the club's lights, as if they were made of gold.
And his eyes, my god, they were so blue Agatha felt like sinking and drowning in his arms right then and there. Unfortunately, she couldn't. Because you see, she is a grown woman and had a little thing called dignity.
Not that she didn't want to though.
Focus.
He did look kind of familiar. Had they met before? Agatha doesn't think so. This man looked like he just walked out of a Calvin Klein ad, and she sure as hell didn't know many people who look like that. One of Sophie's model friends? If so, she certainly hadn't introduced the two.
Yet, the way he was looking at her right now indicated the reality that she should probably know who he is. Maybe he was from her old gym, back when she let Sophie talk her into going for a few months? No, there were no hot guys there, just old ladies and teenagers.
Okay, so, plan B, say something smart.
"Hm…"
Say something.
"…So…"
Anything!
He doesn't look very impressed by her articulate conversation skills, but Agatha can't place where she had seen him before. Maybe they had been neighbors at some point? She moved quite a few times in these last years and keeping track of all of them was impossible. But that didn't seem quite right. A friend of one of her exes then? Did they meet at pride or something?
Seriously, who was this guy! Acting all smooth, as if she should know who he is! He's good looking enough to be memorable sure, but clearly not memorable enough.
Hell, did she sleep with him? He must have been the worst one night stand ever for Agatha to somehow forget him. Maybe he was so bad that she forgot about him completely...?
"I give up, I can't remember you."
He looked a bit offended. Maybe he was indeed a Calvin Klein model.
"The name's Tedros…?"
Tedros, Tedros… Tedros?
"Nope, doesn't ring a bell," she concludes, "but, I'm, hm, Agatha?"
"I know," he responds, curt and firm, nearly glaring at her.
"Neat."
"Nice."
"Good."
"Great."
"Awesome."
"Amazing."
"Extraordinary."
"Now, that's a big word," he mocks. Agatha suspects he just didn't know any bigger ones to keep up. Part of her wishes to strangle him with his own tie and part of her wants to call him out on his shit. He approached her, okay? She is under no obligation to recognize him.
Her eyes narrow and she sips on her fourth cup again.
"Do you need for me to tell you what it means?"
"Oh, no, I'm fine."
The passive-aggressive-ness of this conversation is starting to exhaust her and kill any buzz she had, but she can't just let Mr. everyone-knows-who-I-am-and-I-look-like-walking-sex win. He needed to go down (on her). What.
"Hm, Tedros, you're going to order something or what?"
Chaddick cuts the stare contest between brown and blue and Agatha makes a note to leave him a nicer tip tonight.
"What's the special of the day?" Tedros' tone is amused, as if he and Chaddick are old friends. Ugh, of course he would. He sounded douchey enough. Maybe he went to school with her? That sounded about right, she could picture it. Pretty-boy-Tedros, walking down the hall wearing a football jacket with a cheerleader or two on his arm.
"Nice little things I've put together," Chaddick wiggled his eyebrows. "Want some?"
"Is it safe?" Tedros asks him, cautiously.
"Well, Agatha here is still fine at four, I would say so."
Soon enough Tedros is downing his second cup, sitting on the stool next to hers.
.
.
.
Agatha wasn't sure how or why, but things went from point A to point B very, very quickly.
Point A being sitting beside Tedros at the bar and point B being heavily making out with him in a corner.
Agatha wishes she was joking. She wasn't. It just…somehow…happened?
Fuck.
It all started when Tedros eventually caught up to her and from there on they held a little amicable drinking competition.
("I bet you can't do more shots than me." "Oh, you're so on!" "You drink like a fourteen-year old, dude." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah.")
Then, they paid for their drinks. Well, Tedros did.
("Did you just... pay for me?" "It's called having manners." "Excuse you?")
After that, Chaddick kicked them out to the dance floor, something about the two of them 'grossing him out'. Agatha is not much of a dancer, so she tried to go back her table but Tedros said something (she can't quite remember what it was) that made her realize that she kind of didn't want to. Leave, she means.
They danced for a bit before she stepped on Tedros's foot, or maybe he stepped on hers first?
("Ouch." "Get out of my way!" "Make me.")
From there on it was incomprehensible screaming over loud music for a while and they somehow ended up being way too up in each other's personal space. Agatha eventually just lost it, and grabbed him by his collar, bringing him down to place a forceful peck on his lips, before backing away, partly horrified, partly proud.
It took two mortifyingly long seconds of silence and pure embarrassment for Tedros to grab her by the waist and kiss her roughly.
They stumbled to a more secluded corner, until Agatha's back hit a wall, but she was distracted from the pain of the impact by Tedros licking her bottom lip, seeking her tongue, a small sound escaping her once he found it. What the hell is she even doing, this should not be happening. And yet, she cannot bring herself to care.
This is a wild, passionate kiss and not at all Agatha's expertise. She always considered herself more of a slow-vanilla-soft kind of girl. But out the window with that, Tedros was nowhere near close enough, no matter that they were already flush against each other. Maybe this is why Sophie thinks every guy she meets is her soulmate. As cheesy as it sounds, she feels somehow connected to this stranger, almost as if they were meant to be or something.
Ha, as if.
Any thoughts, of soulmates or otherwise, are forgotten when Tedros' hands start to wander, one goes from her waist to her hip and the other moves to explore her tight, squeezing it deliciously. Agatha retaliates by pulling on his hair, not as lightly as she probably should've, but is rewarded with a husky groan and a bite on her bottom lip.
(She does it again because that might be her new favorite sound.)
What. Is. Going. On.
Her last braincells are on fire. She was on fire.
Okay, young lady, de-attach yourself from the handsome male slo…
Oh God.
She's pretty much breathless when he decides to break the kiss, her lips chasing after his for the slightest second as he pulls away. Her heartbeat has never been this loud and she has no time to overthink, as, suddenly, his lips are on her neck. Agatha lets out a quiet, but embarrassingly needy, whine (as quietly as she could, but it didn't really matter, he heard her anyway) when he nips on her ear and then trails down to suck at her pulse point. Her hands snake their way from his hair to under his shirt's collar and Tedros shivers once she drags her short nails lightly on his upper back and shoulders, but she can still feel his very attractive smug smirk against her skin.
She felt drunk. She doesn't feel like that often.
Not the completely-trashed-I-just-had-countless-drinks kind of drunk and certainly not this don't-care-keep-going-my-blood-is-on-fire kind of drunk either. Like she wanted to keep touching Tedros for the rest of her life (the idea doesn't sound half bad), as fireworks danced around them and… God, if Sophie knows this guy how she could not marry him on the spot, because fuck…
He's leaving quite a few love bites along her collarbone, teasing, attempting (and succeeding) at drawing tiny sounds from her and Agatha can't take it anymore. She drags him back up to her mouth and somehow pulls him even closer. She did not like feeling weak, but to her surprise, Tedros seemed to possess the superpower of turning her completely boneless in the best kind of way.
Wait.
Agatha is making out with Tedros.
Tedros is making out with her.
Agatha's eyes open in late realization and the two of them stare at each other for a few seconds.
So, this happened, huh?
"I… hm… have to go. Out of here. Home. Alone. Yeah, that," Agatha makes way around paralyzed Tedros, whom looks very confused and disoriented. His lips are tainted with coral lipstick, he's panting for air, his bright eyes dark with desire, clothes looking disrelished, pants looking a bit too tight, and he just looks throughfully kissed.
No, Agatha does not feel even a little tiny bit of pride by seeing him look like that because of her, what are you talking about, not sexy, not sexy at all.
… Maybe he could come along?
No. No, no, no.
She doesn't run away from him exactly, but she sure as hell wasn't walking. As she passes Hester and Anadil, the two of them raise eyebrows judgingly, but Agatha does her best to school her expression into neutrality.
If she waited a bit longer, she might have heard Tedros saying:
"Until tomorrow then."
.
.
.
Agatha regrets every single life choice that led her to this point.
She's sitting on a ridiculously shaped chair at Sophie's apartment building's terrace, brooding silently in the corner, with a big headache, while eating some diet cake that tasted like foam, listening to violin versions of bad pop songs, probably dying of heatstroke, and if that doesn't kill her soon enough, can someone please end her misery…
Hester and Anadil are not here after all. Agatha doesn't blame them. It might be for the best, because Agatha doesn't need to deal with Hester's judgy eyebrows right now. Dot is down in Sophie's apartment, at the kitchen, most likely trying to steal some wine and she is pretty much the only person here Agatha can stand.
She partly wonders if Hort will show up but decides she does not care. She's running on aspirin, her head feels like it was smashed against a wall multiple times, and it's too hot here, okay?
It's a hot sunny day and the limited shade would not be enough to cool Agatha down even if she wasn't wearing a scarf. Agatha hates this scarf. It was another one of Sophie's gifts, and Agatha hates it because it's an evil scarf that pinches her every five seconds. However it's the lightest scarf she owns, and she can't it take off.
Otherwise, someone might notice the dark mark on her neck, which her shirt could not hide, as was the case for the other ones, lower, in her collarbones.
Tedros freaking marked her. The nerve.
She's not nearly as pissed as she should be, because honestly she's kinda into it.
Taking off the scarf would lead to too much teasing and questions, she had no turtlenecks available (damn you, past-Agatha, for not doing your laundry) and if only she had the skills to cover it up with makeup. Not only was the scarf evil by itself, it made it impossible for her to not think of yesterday, therefore, making her even more irritable.
She is not the kind of person who kisses people at the club. She sure as hell wouldn't bring a guy she's just met, at the club of all places, home. What if he'd been a psycho? She doesn't know him. He'd know where she lived. She wouldn't go to his place either, that sounded even more irresponsible. But she wishes she had at least gotten his number, you know, instead of freaking out and running away. Well, he knew Chaddick, so maybe she could ask him?
No, that would be humiliating, and Agatha is trying to hang on to whatever dignity she had left.
Also, it had been almost an hour at this damned terrace party and she hasn't seen a single trace of Sophie's fiancé, but the blonde assured her he would be there soon. He's the late-type, hm.
Okay, so Agatha hates him already.
She has been to this terrace quite a few times, it was the one pro of Sophie's building, aside from cheap rent. But she was running out of both will and things to point out in small talk with all these models and small influencers. If she hears "Sophie has such a lovely terrace" one more time…
Suddenly, there was clank, signaling that someone pushed the terrace door open. As Sophie lit up and moved to greet the newcomer, Agatha felt the cake climb up her throat.
Holy hell, is that Tedros?
What is her life, really.
Agatha gets up from her chair quietly, observing the scene from behind a plant, trying not to be too obvious, just, ya know, casually chilling in the middle of the scorching sun. Sophie hugs him tightly, placing a kiss on his cheek, grinning as she laces their fingers together and starts walking in Agatha's general direction, pulling the handsome man behind her.
Hm, no.
Agatha resists the urge to pace in circles as she tries to gather her thoughts. It might be the hangover or the diet cake but seeing the two of them together made her wanna barf. Not because they didn't look good together. They did. In fact, maybe too good. Sophie's long soft hair was a shade or two lighter than Tedros', but other than that, they might as well have been made in the same Instagram-model-facility. Like a set, Barbie and Ken.
What is this feeling?
Oh no, she can see them approaching. Abort mission, leave, get out, hit the road…
"Aggie, darling!"
Agatha forces herself to fake a confident smile, as if she could always be found casually hanging out behind plants on saturday mornings. It turned out to be more of sheepish grin, especially when compared to her friend, whose pretty smile is almost too big for her too pretty face.
Sophie looked particularly gorgeous in her pastel green summer dress and peep-toe heels. Her tanned skin glows under the sun, the light catching in her green eyes on that special way that made photographers all around the industry want to work with her despite her inexperience, the grace within her movements creating an allure Agatha doesn't think she'd be able to recreate even if she were to be born again.
This is not good. Leave, abort mission, repeat, abort miss…
"Aggie, this is Tedros, you know, the one I was telling you about yesterday," she winked. "Teddy, this is my bestie, Agatha, you remember her, right?" Sophie nudges him lightly using her elbow.
Tedros looks even better now that she can see him in natural daylight. Which should be illegal, truly. He's wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans, his hair made of pure gold looked just messy enough to not look too try-hard, yet something about him looked weirdly… staged? Agatha couldn't quite put her finger on it.
"I surely do," Tedros lets go of Sophie's hand, shoulders tensing, and Agatha thinks he might be blushing. Is he nervous? "We-"
"Nice to meet you," Agatha interrupts him, grasping his hand on a firm handshake and letting go just as fast, as if touching his skin would burn her. "Sophie told me a lot about you."
Play along, please. I beg you.
"Oh, hm, it's very nice to meet you too?" Tedros responds, confused, but not calling her out. "Nice scarf," he adds, his lips curling upwards, so very slightly she might have missed if she wasn't micro-analyzing his every movement. Smug bastard. She is all too aware of his gaze lingering on her neck, a hint of pride showing in his bright eyes, the teasing in his voice making her want to pull him down by the collar, whether to choke him or to kiss him she couldn't tell.
"Oh, isn't it cute? See, Aggie, I told you that color looked great on you!" Sophie cuts in, reaching to touch said scarf. Agatha steps back self-consciously, making an effort to not scratch the back of her neck as not to call more attention to it.
"Quite the bold fashion statement for the summer, may I add," Tedros continues as he casually leaned one elbow on Sophie's shoulder. Subtle enough that Sophie wouldn't read too much into it, but Agatha could see right through his shit. "But I like it. You look very pretty, Agatha"
How dare he, truly. No sham-
Wait.
"So, I need to get going, work emergency you see, but I'll make it up to you, Sophie," Agatha excuses herself, quickly. She tells herself it's just the heat that it's bothering her, but her brain is going 300 miles per hours and she needs to leave. Now.
"Aggie, tomorrow we'll be having lunch at the country club, don't be late!"
"Yeah, be there, alright."
Agatha sprints down the complex's stairs as discreetly as she can, which is not much. By the time she's at her car, the weight of her realization hits her full force.
.
.
.
"I'm getting married, Aggie"
"Not Hort"
"You don't know him yet"
.
.
.
"Aggie, this is Tedros, you know, the one I was telling you about yesterday."
.
.
.
"That was literally three weeks ago."
"I dare you not to remember him. Pretty sure Sophie told you about how she met him again a few weeks ago at that event she went to? The one sponsored by Camelot International?"
.
.
.
"…Oh he's so great and wonderful, he's tall, has these hypnotizing eyes, they're so intense, its like they suck you in, Aggie! His hair is just wow, it's a very uncommon shade of blonde, the undertone is beautiful, so expensive-looking, but it's natural, he swears, and his skin is so soft you wouldn't believe, his name is…"
"bla, bla, bla, perfect, bla, bla, bla, handsome"
.
.
.
"He's so different from anyone I've ever met…"
"She feels somehow connected to this stranger, almost as if they were meant to be or something."
.
.
.
"Acting all smooth, as if she should know who he is!"
"He looked a bit offended."
"The name's Tedros?"
.
.
.
"God, if Sophie knows this guy how could she not marry him on the spot…"
"Sophie hugs him tightly, placing a kiss on his cheek, grinning as she laces their fingers together and starts walking, pulling the handsome man behind her."
.
.
.
Agatha is a very bad friend, isn't she?
She bangs her head on the wheel.
Then, she regrets doing so, opening the car's door, so she could vomit some diet cake and last night's alcohol on the parking lot's floor before driving away.
.
.
.
By a miracle, Agatha survives the drive home and makes it back home in one piece.
As she walks into her own apartment, she does not feel half as guilty as she thought she would be. But she was very, very angry. Furious, actually.
At herself for being both a dumbass and a bad friend, at Tedros for being a player, at Chaddick for being a dick in general, at Sophie for being Sophie, at Dot for not warning her and even at Hester for not being at the party today so Agatha could at least not freak out by herself.
She can't do anything for the rest of the day, because trying to work, read or sleep is useless, since she can't focus with all the internal screeching her mind is doing. Her existence now doesn't make any sense and Agatha is about to tear her hair out, lying down in her bed, staring at the celling.
(There's a long crack on there and for whatever reason, it reminded her of a river. Probably because it didn't look like anything else.)
She contemplates calling Hester and telling her everything but ultimately decides against it. She can't bring herself to explain this out loud, least of all hear any possible lecture Hester might give her. Is this how Sophie feels when she decides hide things from her-
Oh my God, Sophie.
Tedros was engaged. To Sophie. He was Sophie's fiancé.
Agatha is not freaking out at all.
.
.
.
At last, ten long hours of sulking later, Agatha is feeling a lot guiltier, still very much pissed and just confused as a whole.
She made out with Sophie's fiancé. Should she tell her? Yes. Would she? To be decided.
Maybe they wouldn't even get married. Come on, a few weeks? There's no way Sophie will keep up this insanity. Telling her about the club incident would only hurt their life-long friendship over a guy who wasn't even gonna last two months. Years of companionship out the window. She had no intention of doing it again so, did it really matter? What the eyes don't see, the heart doesn't feel, right?
She hadn't even known he was Sophie's fiancé!
But then again, Sophie had told her all about him. She didn't listen because she was a bad friend! Was she really gonna play the "I didn't know" card...?
It was the truth!
But no one would believe her. Fuck, if Agatha were Sophie, she wouldn't believe herself. Agatha was a smart grown woman, godamn it. What kind of dumb bitch even-
This wedding wasn't happening. No need to worry, right?
For now, Agatha has two long weeks of supposedly weeding-related bonding moments with Sophie to survive, without accidentally letting slip that, oh, talked, drank, danced and made out with Tedros.
Well, shit.
.
.
.
Even if one ignored the fact that the guilt was starting to eat Agatha alive from inside out, the next day would still have been a long, tortured journey of nothing but cringe and regrets. Yet she bore it, because she, even if accidentally, brought this on herself.
Agatha got up early on a sunday (name a bigger crime) to try and get something done, since she would probably have little time to work in the following weeks. Then, she went to have lunch with Sophie at a fancy country club (that Sophie couldn't afford by the way, which earned her a lecture on credit cards and personal finances) hoping to have that "red-flag" talk.
It did not go well.
Sophie had invited him along. Of course, she would. Apparently, since she was getting married soon, Agatha should be used to have him around. And, of course, Sophie would have decided to tell her he was coming the moment he walked in, headed to their table.
This is Sophie's fiancé. Do. Not. Stare.
What kind of cosmic karma is this? He isn't even her type.
WHY-
"Afternoon, ladies."
Sophie greeted the blonde with a smile and a hug, as Agatha merely nodded his way, scanning the room for the closest exit.
"Hi Teddy!"
"Tedros."
Lunch is awkward as hell and at this point Agatha is just waiting for a waiter to come and stab her. It ends up being both not so terrible and the worst lunch ever because she does talk quite a lot with Tedros, against her better judgment.
She learns that Tedros did go to her school, for three years. Sophie asks him if he remembers Agatha, and from Tedros' silence, Agatha assumes he doesn't want to admit to having been part of Chaddick's... shenanigans.
Her friend then talks astrology, and Agatha learns that he is a leo (because of course he would), is kinda proud of it but says he doesn't believe in astrology, prompting Sophie to start a discussion on why he wouldn't believe in astrology if he believed in tarot. The way he blushes and stammers is cute and makes Agatha feel horrible for thinking so, but she asks him about tarot anyway. She's just being polite, okay?
He mentions he'd turned 26 a while ago and recently moved back to the city, as he moved away to go to college in Avalon. She tells him she almost went there, but her scholarship did not include a dormroom and she knew no one there to share an apartment with. His answer is a blunt "I know", which both confuses and pisses her off.
Tedros offers her no further info on it, but they engage in conversation again after he mentions he is working at Camelot International.
("As one of the main executives on the board," Sophie adds, "it's one of the most powerful companies in the country.")
They quickly bond over their massive workloads (Agatha may not be a main executive of a huge corporate empire, but damn if being head finance director for SGE Enterprises didn't keep her busy enough), until Sophie slips that he must be very lucky to be the sole heir to the Pendragon Group.
Oh.
Tedros Pendragon. Are you kidding? Agatha remembers seeing his family's name being all over the news back in school and she feels dumb for not remembering that Tedros and 'that Pendragon boy' were the same person. Hadn't his parents had a huge cheating-divorce-scandal that caused the stock for the company to plummet a few years ago?
Tedros frowns at Sophie before saying that, "Yes, indeed, he's very lucky."
The blonde doesn't seem to notice the way his hands grip the fork tightly as he pronounces the last word, but Agatha does.
It adds on to the list of things that keep her awake later, after she does her damn laundry and stress-cleans her entire apartment. She curses as she turns and tosses on her bed, because it's 2 AM, work starts in a few hours and she needs to sleep.
.
.
.
The next four days are not much different, the routine is pretty much the same, except they have dinner plans instead of lunch. Work, eat, work, do bridesmaid shit with Sophie and Tedros somewhere, avoid his gaze, talk for a bit over something like choosing the best flower arrangements, and then hightail out of there, only to come home and be restless.
She was still very confused, because honestly, Tedros didn't seem bad at all. The more she talked to him, the least she wanted to stop talking to him. He definitely had some family issues and was doing some overcompensating, but nothing that made him, like, a total trash human.
And yet, he was still the guy who hit on her (fucking made out with her), knowing exactly who she was, while being engaged to her best friend.
She always thought herself a good judge of character.
Anyway, she did her best to act aloofly polite and if he ever seemed to hint at the night at The Woods, Agatha cut him off before he could. It was a good plan. Wait it out. And it really was working just fine.
Until the dress store.
For some reason she cannot wrap her head around, Tedros is there too.
(Isn't there a tradition against seeing the dress of your bride before the wedding or something?)
At some point, Sophie struggles to get into a particularly complicated dress at the dressing room, yelling at the poor employees like a harpy on a rampage and Agatha is about to intervene when he manages to pull her aside, his grip firm but with a certain gentleness that made her skin burn.
He semi-drags her across the store through a sea of sparkly white dresses and into this small nook between sections. Agatha does not want to admit that the main reason why he is able to do that is because she allows him to.
Things only go downhill from there.
He has her cornered, her back nearly merging with the wall as he stands close to her, his posture tense, moving slowly, like one would in presence of a startled animal. He doesn't look like he is trying to purposely intimidate her, and she doesn't feel particularly unsafe. No words are spoken between them and the silence allows Agatha's senses to pick up on a deliciously rich smell. Is that Tedros' cologne-
Agatha forces down the rash that is creeping up her neck and tries to focus on doing what she does best, aka, running away from her problems. She looks anywhere but his face, but he is not making ignoring him an easy job.
"I don't get you."
What.
"Excuse me?"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about."
Agatha scoffs, arms crossing in front of her chest.
"I truly don't."
Her response seems to annoy him, which she counts as a win, but Agatha might have declared victory just a bit too soon. Tedros, who was a couple of feet away has managed to get way too close (yet again). His hand raises her chin and forces her to look into his eyes. Her resolution to run away falters and she's scared he might hear her heartbeat speed up.
"Playing dumb doesn't suit you, Agatha. One second you don't like me, then you do like me, then you don't again… I don't understand the game you're playing here… So, I'll make this simple, you won, congratulations, now stop playing games, now you know I'm interested."
Agatha blinks. This is… not the conversation she thought she was going to have.
Of course, during her nightly overthinking sessions she thought about what she'd say if he confronted her about the previous friday, even if she didn't think he'd have the balls to actually do it. But she seems to have been reduced to this dumpster fire nonsense. Tedros never did what she thought he was going to do and it was short-circuiting her braincells.
She's way too aware of the hold he has on her, the compromising situation they're in. One of his hands cages Agatha in, placed on the wall behind her head, while the other keeps her from adverting her gaze from his. Tedros is too close, he smells too good and his mouth looks too inviting.
She hears him, but she doesn't really hear him, his presence fogging up her senses.
Agatha briefly entertains the idea of giving into temptation and kissing him. How nice it would be to grab his collar, invert their positions, slam him against the wall and kiss him senseless, so he could feel just how helpless she felt having him corner her like this. Kiss him and just leave him there, wanting, begging, and…
What. Wow, fuck. Stop.
A new thought hits her like a ton bricks.
This guy is an asshole.
Tedros looks irritated and Agatha wants to punch him.
So she does.
She's strong enough to give him a black eye, but she (unintentionally, Agatha swears) holds backs and aims for his chest. However, she can tell it hurt a lot by the way his eyes water and he backs away several steps. She hears Sophie yelling their names across the store and giving Tedros one last glare, she turns around and walks away.
The nerve.
Why would anyone marry him?
Sophie needed a wakeup call. And fast. Because while Sophie could be a nightmare, she did not deserve to be played like that.
.
.
.
Agatha was not a superstitious person.
If she forgot her umbrella at home and it started raining when she left the dress shop (Tedros and Sophie both offered her a ride but she would rather choke, honestly, and said no, forgetting that she rode here with Sophie in the first place), it's not fate, it's bad luck. If she gets sick and loses her voice (and therefore can't go do neither her work or her bridesmaid duty), it's not conspiracy, it's simply a coincidence.
Well, call it fate, call it bad luck, call it conspiracy, call it coincidence. The case is that Agatha has lost her voice and has both a running nose and a fever. She considers texting the whole story to Sophie but changes her mind when she imagines the blonde woman's reaction.
Agatha, you're such a slut.
She is going to tell Sophie about this… this… this individual. Yeah, she was going to come clean and expose Tedros. No wedding.
Why was Tedros marrying Sophie anyway? She could understand why Sophie would go for Tedros. He did seem like her type. Young, rich, successful and handsome.
(Not really what she herself looked for. Agatha tended to go for witty, responsible people and who did not mind her blunt nature. Never in the history of ever, had Sophie and Agatha been interested on the same person.)
Anyway, he would give her lots of exposure, would look great on her Instagram feed, would be able to save her from her terrible apartment, student loan and infinite credit card debt, and would open up the world of fancy designer shoes and pretty gowns Sophie always dreamed of.
But why would he do that?
Tedros was, again, young, rich, successful and handsome. He hardly expressed any special affection towards Sophie or had the usual lovesick look most of Sophie's victims sported when they found themselves bewitched by her. They didn't really agree on much, from what Agatha gathered on their conversations, had no shared interests, lived completely different lifestyles, had different moral values and overall didn't seem to have the grandiose connection Sophie spoke of at all. Maybe he was with her because she was pretty? But again, why. There werw thousands of pretty girls willing to date young rich men, why Sophie in particular?
Something about this seemed off. She needs to talk to Sophie.
…When she recovered.
.
.
.
Alright, maybe it was conspiracy. The wedding was in two days.
Two days.
She supposes time does go by quickly when you're procrastinating something you really, really don't want to do. Nearly two weeks gone by in a flash. And, as she should, Agatha finally gets herself together. She is going to tell Sophie.
Well, she was going to tell Sophie. The blonde and a few of her friends were at The Woods for a last girl's night out. Meaning:
Sophie was currently drunk.
But maybe she wasn't?
She probably was though. Sophie was the most lightweight person Agatha knew, likely because she was so skinny. Girl could not hold her alcohol and drunk-Sophie was messy-Sophie. Unwilling, untamable and unimaginably difficult to have a coherent conversation with.
But, maybe she wasn't drunk? Agatha was not going to risk it.
She forces herself to hurry. She doesn't change out of her work outfit (merely discarding the suit's jacket), stopping by her house to feed Reaper and leave some important documents. Agatha even nearly forgets to lock her front door, calling a car to the club, hoping it might not be too late to come clean. But she was late anyway, as proven not only by the 15 bucks that left her wallet (for the second time this month) but by-
"Aggieeeee! You're better! Have you taaaasted this? It's amaziiiing!"
Agatha glares at Chaddick, who has the decency to look away. He knew the amount of alcohol Sophie was capable of processing, namely: none.
"Yeah, I have…"
"You should have seen, Sophie; the other night Agatha was so wasted she ma…"
"Chaddick, don't you have somewhere to be? As in, not here?"
The ex-jock walks away with a smirk, knowing he had some nice blackmailing material on her. Could this get any more horrible?
Now what? Should she just take Sophie home? Sober her up, tell her everything then beg for forgiveness? She couldn't. Then what to do, what to do…
"Sophie, I have to tell you something, it's really important, you see…"
"Oh Aggie, I'm sure you can tell me laaaaaatteerrrr! I've been so stressed lately! Time to let it goooo! Come on, I'll even pay your first drinkkkk!"
Her friend lifted a glass of what looked and smelled like a vodka and gin disaster waiting to happen.
"Sophie, what is even that?"
"Not sure…but Chaddick told me it was good."
Agatha sighs. She should tell the truth, right here, right now, shouldn't she?
"… Alright."
And she would have if she were a better person. But to her shame, she downs five more after the first and suddenly she can't remember why she came here on the first place. Something about a guy?
(Lies, Agatha knows exactly what she is doing, but for a few more hours she gives herself the benefit of the doubt.)
Whatever, she'll just deal with it later. She hasn't said anything for the past few days, surely it can wait some more, right?
.
.
.
Said and done, five hours later Agatha concludes she is a horrible human being. She should just quit. Leave the job of human being for people who will not mess up. Like Hester. Hester never messes up shit. Yeah, great plan.
Sophie is knocked out cold, sleeping with her face in a table, drooling, besides said Hester, who has her usual judgy face on, glaring at the blonde woman, like she was some kind of disgusting creature.
Agatha doesn't think she could feel worse.
She should have just told Sophie the truth right away. The moment she found out Tedros was, well, Tedros. Instead she had gone along with a wedding that was sure to be a fiasco, because not only was the groom a liar and a player, but Agatha was therefore his accomplice, and her silence was probably the greatest betrayal of their entire friendship.
She picks up her phone to call a car, so she could at the very least wallow in misery at home, but before the app even loads someone snatches her phone.
Turns out she can indeed feel worse.
"We need to talk."
His voice sounds as it always does whenever she's around, half-annoyed and half-something else Agatha doesn't dare name. As usual, he looks nice. His tight shirt and tie are still in perfect place, unlike the last time she saw him here, signaling he too probably came straight from work.
"This is girl's night; you're not allowed here."
"Oh, I'm not?" Tedros mocks her, but she can tell his heart isn't truly in it. "Then please do tell me the circumstances in which I can talk to you, because you sure don't make it easy."
She is so tired. Trying to avoid him is hard enough, trying to avoid him knowing that she doesn't really want to is impossible. She has always read people so well, and he always seems so genuine. It makes her wanna believe he is not the bad person she knows he is.
"…I've been… avoiding you. It's not that I don't want to talk to you. Is just… that I shouldn't," she hesitates but ends up answering honestly.
Tedros' expression softens at her candor, peering at her with concern.
"Are you drunk?"
"No. Maybe."
He sighs, then digs his car keys from his pocket, still holding her phone hostage on his other hand.
"Look, I'll give you a ride home. I really just wanna talk. We have…unfinished business."
Agatha considers. All this wedding-baloney made her poor, Tedros is so pretty, he looks so wholesome and honest, and she just wants to sulk at home for the next few hours. Maybe he could stay for a day or two. That shirt of his would look great on her floor…
No, bad idea.
"I don't wanna get into a stranger's car," she blurts out the first excuse her mind can manage. In retrospect, that was some obvious bullshit, seeing as they had talked for hours last week and he had already given her a ride before. Granted, it had been Sophie's car and Sophie had been there, but still, that didn't make much sense.
"Oh truly?" he holds up her phone, the ride app now open, "You're gonna pull that one on me?"
It's Agatha's turn to sigh.
"Okay don't go using logic on me, mister. For all I know, you could be planning on kidnapping me and selling my organs on the black market," or worse, actually talking to her.
"Can never be too careful, can we?" he looks partly amused and partly annoyed. "Look, I'm serious here, okay? I'm not going to do anything to you, we can talk to Hester on our way out, I'm sure she'll hunt me and string me up upside down at her soundproofed basement in case I even dream of harming you. Alright?" Tedros's eyes never leave her face in the twenty seconds she takes to decide, and it's really distracting, but she manages to answer:
"Okay, fine."
They talk to Hester, rather, Tedros talks to Hester while Agatha avoids her gaze shamefully. Why does Tedros know Hester? Did they ever talk during school?
Agatha doesn't know and she doesn't ask. Her gaze lingers on Sophie's drooling face and she feels her chest tighten.
The two of them walk into the parking lot awkwardly, in mortifying silence, and enter a silver Porsche. Agatha notes that it looks very out of place, since most cars belonged to employees and looked rather humble next to the silver beauty. Why was Tedros here? He came in his car, so he was not here to drink. Did Sophie tell him to pick her up? Or was he here to see Agatha?
Her heart skips at beat at the thought and she doesn't ask him any of this either.
"Nice ride," she offers instead.
"Thanks."
Tedros drives in silence, with Agatha occasionally telling him to turn on certain streets. She keeps her gaze on the empty roads, but she does catch quite a stunning sight of his profile when she forgets she's not supposed to look at him at all.
To avoid getting too in her head, she decides to turn on the radio. The song that starts playing is familiar and she guesses the radio must be on CD mode. The letters in bold red on the visor tell her she is correct, and this is indeed the song she thinks it is.
"You're into this kind of stuff?"
Tedros grips the wheel, almost defensively.
"They're really good, okay? I've been listening to them for a few years and so far, they're my favorite band. I know their sound isn't for everyone and-"
"I know."
"…It's not what most mainstream artists are doi- you what?"
Agatha blushes when she feels his incredulous gaze on her face, and it occurs her that this is the first time he looks directly at her since they got into his car. She hopes he'll attribute the redness on her cheeks to the red light they're currently stuck at and hesitates before answering, in a quiet voice, meeting his stare:
"They're my favorite band too."
"Oh."
The rest of the drive is less awkward, one would even say comfortable if not for the leftover tension. They sing along quietly to the vocalist and Agatha is sure Tedros stopped himself from doing the guitar once. Not cute, not cute, not cute.
Eventually, they get to her apartment building. She reaches over and turns off the radio, the deafening silence almost too much to bear.
Agatha tries reaching for the car door, but it's locked.
"I did tell you we needed to talk."
Usually, she'd be scared if a guy trapped her in his car in the middle of the night, but Agatha's frustration just comes back at full force and topples over anything else.
"What's to talk, you're clearly into someone else."
Tedros' eyes go big, and Agatha can't help but think he must be the world's greatest actor. Oscar nomination performance. The academy is shook-
"What? Did you, like, not hear anything I sa-"
"I'm not that kind of girl, Tedros," Agatha interrupts him firmly, "I don't hook up with anyone who's in a relationship, especially in a relationship with my best friend, no matter how stupidly short said relationship may be."
"I… Did Sophie tell you-"
"She didn't need to? You guys are engaged, and I am not going to get caught in between, okay? Please, please leave me alone. Don't talk to me. Don't look at me. Don't give me rides when I'm drunk."
Suddenly, Tedros' confused expression is gone and his eyes are gleaming with what looks like joy. He looks like he might kiss her and Agatha is not sure how well her defenses will hold in case he does.
"Agatha, I think you got this all wrong, I'm not-"
"What, you have amnesia? Or, let me guess, it's your twin brother who's engaged to her?"
Tedros burst out laughing and he sounds like an angel, throwing his head back, and Agatha forgets for a second that she's mad at him. But eventually reality brings her back and she pushes him, with just enough force to get his attention.
"Leave me the fuck alone, dude."
…Asshole.
This time when she reaches for the door, it's unlocked.
She glares at him from the sidewalk one more time, before entering the building.
.
.
.
Agatha doesn't hear a word from him after that.
It's for the best, she tells herself. Agatha spent so much time wishing he would just go away and take these weird feelings he gives her with him that she didn't even consider that once he did go away for real, new, stronger, and even more angsty feelings would appear. She only knew him for two weeks. He wasn't even hers. She has no grieving rights.
She goes out with Sophie one more time, and now it's just the two of them. It would be the perfect time to tell her. She has no excuses. No drinking, no sickness, no Tedros-
Agatha doesn't.
.
.
.
Today is the day.
It's a clear summer night, which is unfair with how angsty and conflicted Agatha feels. Hollywood lied to us all, hasn't it?
Agatha is dressed in a silky blue dress Sophie chose for her. It suits her and she thinks she looks quite pretty. Someone who actually knew what they were doing did her make-up, and for once she managed to tame her hair into submission, putting it into a fancy-looking up-do youtube taught her how to do. She's wearing her best shoes and her fanciest earrings. Agatha is looking and smelling like a daydream outside the main room of the church, but her hands are shaking and she's terrified.
She's not ready. Far from it really.
The rules were simple. If you're not the bride you don't wear white, you don't overdrink, and you never, ever, under any circumstances, fall in love with the groom.
No matter if they were hot, if they smelled good, if their eyes made you feel weak at the knees, if they shared common interests with you, if their taste was impossible to forget, if they went out of their way to get your attention or if they felt like they just might be the one.
You just didn't okay?
Shit, this was messed up. Still, Agatha brought herself to breathe deeply, trying to contain her anxiety.
The ceremonialist tells her it's her cue and she's soon walking down the aisle, clutching a small bouquet of pink carnations like a lifeline, looking around the church.
The place is crowded. Their entire social circle and their grandmother seem to be here. People from their childhood neighborhood, people from school, both of Sophie's parents, her stepmother and step siblings, quite a few models and influencers and a bunch of people she had never seen, probably Tedros' friends, family and co-workers.
The flowers and decorations look as amazing and beautiful as she would have expected from Sophie and she might have seen Hester, Anadil and Dot on a row somewhere, but that's not what made her almost freeze, nearly stumbling on the red carpet.
The groom.
He's wearing an expensive-looking white tuxedo, his hair is an unnatural platinum blonde and his eyes are disturbingly intense. He's tall, sharp and everything about him screams fancy. He's attractive in the way some snakes are attractive, beautiful and deadly, but the big deal is:
Agatha has never seen that man in her entire life.
She goes to her spot standing by the side, her brain running a marathon, tons of data just being tossed aimlessly on her mind as she tries to wrap her head around what the actual fuck is going on when her eyes meet someone else's.
Seating on the third row on the left, Tedros' blue eyes are shinning in complete and absolute amusement, his hand is over his mouth in a barely controlled laugh. The music seems to be on his side, because no one hears him. Agatha schools her expression into anything other than the overbearing wrath she feels, but she's not sure if she's doing a good job.
She's somewhat aware of the chaos that seems to be unfolding around her; the ceremonialist's screeching, the groom's rage, the crowd's confused mumbling and Sophie's absence. But it does not matter.
Agatha really wants to choke Tedros with his tie.
.
.
.
Turns out, Sophie's groom was named Rafal. Not that Agatha would remember his name a few days from now.
He is the current CEO of Two Brothers, a huge company, often associated with the mafia for fucks sake. Known playboy and womanizer, with a criminal record for drug dealing, as well as physical and sexual assault. Also, partially involved on the illegal leaks of information that caused the media scandal around Tedros' parents' divorce all those years ago, she later learns.
Great guy, Sophie. 10/10. Husband material right there.
At least she didn't follow through, Agatha argues to try and calm herself down. Oh yeah, Sophie ran away from her own wedding. No one was surprised honestly. Maybe Rafal. He looked very, very angry. Agatha didn't really blame him, after knowing that he was the one paying for the wedding, after party and honeymoon, no matter how horrible of a person he seems to be.
By now, Sophie should be in Paris, enjoying her honeymoon tickets and reservations. Through text, she tells Agatha how lonely and sad she is and how she'll tell her everything that happened in complete details on their next café meeting in a about month and a half. Agatha suspects she is not as lonely as she claims to be because Hort's Instagram stories tell her he is currently in Europe as well, if not in Paris. But then again, she will not concern herself over this matter. "No wedding" was good news enough to keep her in a great mood for any of Sophie's shenanigans for the next following weeks.
And since the reception was already paid for, everyone just decided to come enjoy it.
Yes, when she says everyone, she means everyone.
"Hey, you."
Oh, Lord, no.
Agatha doesn't lift her head to look at him, continuing to type a half-assed reply to Sophie's whiny texts. She won't give him the satisfaction. Instead she downs whatever is left of her whisky, because that's what one does when courage lacks.
She's sitting at the main table of the ballroom, by herself, mostly because it's where she's been assigned to sit, but also because she's not up for the questions the other guests will probably feel entitled to ask if she were to sit with them. Hester is nowhere in sight, but Agatha is sure she's making herself scarce on purpose. She saw Chaddick back at the church but they politely ignored each other and Dot had been missing for quite a while.
"Not speaking to me?"
"No."
"Come on, it was pretty funny."
"No, it wasn't," she finally looks up at him and he must have sensed true resentment in her perfectly lined brown eyes, because his smug, perfect façade crumbled, and he looked very awkward suddenly. Tedros pulls up the chair beside her and she notices it has his name on it. Sophie was not being subtle on her matchmaking at all, was she?
God, Agatha was so dumb.
"Well, it wasn't very funny to me either then, but I do laugh quite a bit now," he offers, sipping on champagne, trying to keep busy.
"I'm glad my pain amuses you," she's quiet for few seconds, considering what she's going to say. "Tedros?"
"Yeah?" he looks up from his flute of champagne, hopeful blue eyes shining in the half light of the candlelit ballroom and keeping her from saying what she was actually going to say, so instead she blurts:
"I'm not sorry for punching you."
"I didn't expect you to be," his smile is friendly and contagious. He downs the last of his champagne and extends a hand to her. "Okay, let's start again. I'm Tedros, I'm so single it hurts, and when we were in high school, I had a crush on you."
The way he says this so openly, his voice so even and clear nearly drowns out the vulnerable look on his face. Agatha herself can barely register his expression because she's pretty sure her brain has short-circuited. Again.
"No, you did not."
"But I did."
Tedros proceeds to tell her all sorts of things.
He tells her about how he first saw her as a rival because of her grades (she never really paid any attention to the scoreboard, she thought it was bullshit, but in retrospect she does remembers his name was always under hers), and about how sorry he was that he laughed and partook at Chaddick's antics during junior year, mostly because he the felt like 'the new guy with a big name and no friends' and felt she was a threat.
"That's some real introspection and self-awareness right there, hm"
"I'm just fortunate enough to have had a really good therapist," Tedros responds, "Merlin is like a psychology-wizard. He was the one who kinda sorted out that maybe part of my teen angst was repressed attraction to someone who fed the cats behind the library"
"Oh, then you've been my stalker for quite some time then."
Tedros blushes and Agatha is both flattered and embarrassed at the same time.
He then explains about how shit blew up on his face during his parents' divorce, how his grades dropped, how he got kicked out of the football team and how he started to spend a long ass time sulking at the library. Which just so happened to be Agatha's favorite hangout spot at the time. Tedros tells her how he thought she was cute, how she was one of the people who hadn't changed with him (even if unintentionally) and how he wanted to get to know her.
What.
"I just… wasn't sure how to approach you? I always dragged Chaddick to your tea shop when I didn't see you at the library but then chickened out and-"
"...I take neither of you were huge tea fans?"
"Yeah?"
"That does explain a lot," Agatha mumbles.
"I was going to talk to you about Avalon when I heard you were going there, but… Since you didn't tell me that, I kinda found out when Chaddick took your math notebook to be my 'wingman', I didn't think you would have…appreciated.
"Wait, that was Chaddick playing your wingman?" Agatha burst out laughing.
"The plan was that I was supposed to casually hand back to you something you forgot, but he kinda grew tired of waiting for you to actually forget something," Tedros chuckled. "If you thought Chaddick was bad then what big word is Miss-best-in-class going to use to describe Sophie's take on playing wingwoman?"
"Horrendous," Agatha deadpans and now it's Tedros turn to laugh.
Silence sits between the two. It's not uncomfortable and kinda welcome. Agatha digests the last forty minutes of enlighting conversation as they eat the main course of the night. A waiter comes to pick up both of their plates and she decides she still has some questions.
"Well, do you still do?"
"Do I still what?" Tedros questions, his head slightly inclined, like a confused puppy.
"Have a crush on me," Agatha mumbles, her cheeks burning.
Tedros' expression goes from 'confused' back to that mischievous look he had back at the church, leaning towards her ever so slightly.
"Maybe."
"Good," she offers her hand, as he had before, "I'm Agatha, I jump to conclusions, but I am very interested in getting to know you."
Tedros however, doesn't shake her hand as she had his. Instead, he takes it to his lips, pressing a light kiss to her knuckles, relishing in the shocked look on her face before she can school her expression back to unaffected aloofness.
"Are you free at six next friday?"
"Late meeting, but I'm good at seven. Pick me up?" she asks, an unspoken challenge laced in her words.
"As the lady wishes." Challenge accepted. "Any preferences?"
"Anywhere but 'The Woods'. But make sure to text me first if it's somewhere fancy," she smiles. "You know what? I still don't have your number."
Tedros confidently stands up, his hand yet to release hers.
"A number for a dance?"
Agatha told him that night at 'The Woods' that she isn't a very good dancer but again, he insists. It's fine, because they don't dance for long anyway. By the time Tedros gives up, fumbling with his phone to call a car, his hair is already a mess, Agatha's broke free from her up-do and there is lipstick everywhere.
I'm not sorry This was so much fun to revisit. I forgot how fun SGE was. I kinda fell out of touch with the series. I did read QFG, I just can't remember what happens in it? Idk. I felt the series should have concluded on TLEA. If possible before the whole Agatha and Sophie baloney stunt, because I never bought that. Please leave me comment and share your thoughts with me! Hope you are all safe during this quarantine, friends
#Tagatha#tagathashipweek2016#rewrite#agatha sge#Agatha of Woods Beyond#tedros sge#tedros of camelot#sophie sge#sge#The School for Good and Evil
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
Put a ring on it 2
Gonna drop this here super quick and then go back to cram for my finals. Who allowed me to schedule six finals in one week? I’m gonna die. Pray for me.
Tagging @jedissica ‘cause they asked me to, and @animemangasoul who I think will like this.
---.---
-Batman, here we are. It’s been a while since you last called an emergency meeting. Is everything okay?
-Were you aware that our children eloped together?
-...what.
-As in, my third kid, your first one, Diana’s second, and Barry’s… grandchild. I’m not exactly sure about who married who, but there was more than one wedding and they have a group chat called ‘hubbies and waifu’. Whatever that means.
-...
-...
-That’s my girl. I always told her, go big or go home.
-Diana, no.
----.----
Cassie’s phone went off again with her specific Diana ringtone, and she gave up, turning it off and throwing it on the pile with Kon’s, Bart’s and Tim’s (the last one had four all by himself, so it was quite a big ‘phone tower’; Hah, pun intended).
-You’re gonna freak out so badly over this when you actually wake up -she informed Tim’s fluffy hair.
Said vigilante only released a cute little snore, face buried on her lap, legs thrown over Kon’s, one hand that had fallen from the couch resting on Bart’s head where he sat on the floor in front of them.
-Well, they were going to find out one way or another. And this was probably among the best scenarios.
-How? I’m sure this one was top five on Tim’s ‘worst case’ nightmare list.
-I was there and saw their faces. I didn’t even know Batman could express any emotion other than ‘cold’ and ‘overflowing with rage’. That image will bring me joy in future distressing times, I’m sure. My patronus memory, if you will.
-I’m soooooooo jealous, dude.
Cassie snorted, carefully not moving an inch, fingers cradling through Tim’s hair. Over her dead body would he ever cut it, now that it was finally long enough to make itty tiny braids all over it, her favorite therapeutic iddle work.
-We’ll make Tim give us footage when he wakes up. He has to provide for us, after all.
Kon let his arm, resting on the backrest of the couch, fall over Cassie’s shoulders- Be sure to include footage from after we left, too. Nightwing’s ‘As in more than one?!’ part was solid gold.
-No kidding, I want that as my ringtone for you and Tim -chimed in Bart, carefully moving Tim’s hand back to the couch and then running to the kitchen- Ice cream?
-Do you even need to ask?
---.----
By the time Tim woke up, the hero gossip network had done it’s thing, and almost everyone with a costume was aware of the news. Even Cissie, who was officially retired, and Zachary Zatara, away on his shows and usually out of reach, had called, the first one to offer congratulations and ask if the thing was real emotionally-wise, the second to just laugh at them for full six minutes before hanging up.
He did text them later, asking when the celebration ceremony would be.
-It’s not a bad idea -mused Cassie, showing them her phone screen with the magician’s text- a party, I mean.
Tim, from his place working a case on the Titan’s main computer, tuted- Batman might actually kill me for that. I think we’ve survived this far only because there are no written records making this official, and a part of him must think it’s all some elaborate prank.
-It’s not -insisted Bart, head poking out of the kitchen- we are family now, officially. No take backs.
Their Robin shifted in place just enough for them to see his smile, a gift on itself- I know, guys, and the sentiment is much appreciated. But from a legal standpoint, it’s not that different from what a few kids on a playground could do while playing family. Only place this could stand against judgement would be the future, some ancient Amazonian tribe, or Krypton.
-Doesn’t matter, as long as it’s true for us. And, I mean, we didn’t want to cut your options if you ever wanted to actually get married the classic way.
This time, their bird actually turned around, a warmth on his expression that he usually reserved for his team. It made them feel special like nothing else.
-Yeah, I know. Thank you for that. It was really considerated.
As if they would drag Tim into something like legal marriage without previous consent. The fact that he even felt the need to thank them for showing him basic human decency was making their blood boil with the need to punch a bat on the face.
Kon flew over, the high chair preventing him from draping himself on his best friend’s back, but not from hugging his neck and messing his hair.
-Back at my point -cleared her throat the amazonian-, your former mentor can suck my metaphorical Freudian dick. We could throw a party, and it would only be different from a normal one because marriage celebrations include gifts, which I’m totally for. I haven’t seen Zatara, Cissie, Greta and Anita in a while, and Miguel, Raven and Gar might murder us for not telling them about our plans and not making it up to them with a party. No ‘adults’ out of the ones on team, or mentors, invited, enough alcohol to re-drown Atlantis, fancy food bought with Bat’s credit card…
-You are right, it does sound kinda nice -hummed Kon, floating just out of Tim’s range when former Wonder Boy tried to slap his hands away. Silly bat, always denying affection.
-All in favor?
-I don’t know -giving up, Tim went back to his case files- I have a lot to do this days, and there’s a lead that might take me to Asia…
-Isn’t Cass there? Ask her to take over it for you, as a marriage present or something. C’mon Tim, do it for the gifts. Imagine what Zatara might get for us. So crash.
-If it’s a magical object, I won't want it anywhere near me. We bats don’t have the best track record with that stuff, and I swear to god if I get deaged I would use my non-prosecutable age to murder someone. Probably Zatara himself.
-Adorable as that might be, it totally won’t happen.
----.----
-....can you repeat it one more time? Slower, though. I think I’m getting hearing problems.
Raven, through the video call connecting the Cave with the Tower, didn’t seem fazed by Nightwing’s slightly threatening tone.
-I said, the team had a party, everyone got drunk, and it was fine for a while. I was watching over them, but then I needed to use the restroom. When I got back, someone had gotten ahold of Zachary’s gift for Tim, Cassie, Kon and Bart, and…
-Why for those four? -asked Hood, standing right by N’s side. He had came in during Raven’s first explanation, and felt like there was something he was missing.
-It was a marriage gift. Moving on…
-A what?! Since when is Lil Red married? The fuck happened while I was in Russia?!
-...someone had gotten ahold of the gift -Raven kept going, cool as a cucumber. On the background behind her, teen heroes were running back and forth, people were screaming and something was smoking-, which happened to be some sort of magical artifact. Zachary wasn’t really aware of what it did, he just randomly choose it from among his collection of magical tools when he remembered at the last possible time a gift was mandatory for a wedding party. I returned from the bathroom and everything was a mess, the couch was turned upside down, a pipe had burst, the tv was on fire and Tim had been de aged.
There was a battle scream, in a distinctly childish voice, somewhere on the room out of view of the camera, and Raven’s eyes left the screen for a second as if looking at it.
-Was that Red Robin? -Batman, because of course he was listening in, started typing at the console, frantically trying to get a new angle to see what was going on on the Tower.
-He’s unharmed, and everything is under control.
Another scream, this time louder.
-...that didn’t sound under control -mused Dick, apparently still processing the information. Bruce typed faster. Robin gripped his sword tighter, as if readying himself for a war.
Jason still looked utterly lost.
-Marriage? She said marriage? AND YOU ASSHOLES KNEW ‘BOUT THIS?!
-He’s… throwing a tantrum -the woman ignored him, still looking only at her former leader-. Something about using his age to kill Zatara without being convicted. I’ll need to leave now, I only called to ask you to take over Tim’s cases while we solve this issue.
-Wait! Rae, if Timmy’s a kid, he needs to be with us. We are his family, it’s our jurisdiction.
A green bird suddenly landed on her shoulder, halthing whatever response she might give. Gar pecked her on the cheek lightly before turning his beak their direction.
-Husbands and Wives get priority, N, you know that. Cassie, Kon and Bart are looking after him, and keeping him from killing Zachary, while the rest of us research how to turn him back. Zach is actually trying to contact his cousin, maybe the great Zatanna will quicken this process. So, yeah, no Bats allowed on the Tower until then!
-But/!
A loud crash, followed by a wail, made Gar wince and Raven’s head to snap to the side and growl.
-Whelp, gotta go, Tower out! -a ‘Tim!’ could be heard in the background just before the screen went dark.
-...
-...
-...
-...Anyone gonna fill me in?
-Drake eloped thrice over without informing us and has been living in sinful unworthiness with his three partners since last month or so, that we know about. Probably more.
-...Partners?
-You heard her. The speedster, clone and amazonian.
-...
-...
-Dickie, how t’fuck did ya allow’is to happen?!
-IT’S NOT LIKE I WAS ASKED FOR MY BLESSING, JASON!
-B, what the utter hell, ain’t ya supposed to keep track of this kinda shit?!?
-...
-Don’t bother, Father has been broken since learning of Drake’s mistake, and will go unresponsive at the most inconvenient times.
-...
-Fuck, I need a drink. Also, ’m going there.
-You heard Gar, Jay -pointed out Dick- we can’t just walk in there, and the Tower is legally his. We have to be smart about this, plan this through, and/
-Yeah, no, he said ‘no bats’-gesturing at his gun holsters, he started to walk to where his bike was parked-. RIP ya’ll, but I’m different. See ya.
-...
-...
-Tt. Useless. I’ll go back to training. Father, Grayson, should you two, as the plebeians say, ‘snap out of it’ and come with a good plan to get Drake back under our tutelage, I’ll be by the mats waiting.
-...
-...Don’t look at me like that. I raised him for a few months tops, but he’s your kid, not mine. Same with Tim, and Jason’s entirely your fault.
---.---
Meanwhile, back at the Tower, Kon let out a screeching ‘Tim!’ before diving out and catching the baby bird in his arms, halting his fall from the ceiling rafters where he had been climbing. Behind him, Cassie let out a relieved breath.
-God’s above, you almost gave me a heart attack. Okay, new ground rules, this two little feet stay on the ground.
Tim, as proudly as a three year old toddler could, frowned at him.
-Don’t patwonize me, Kon. And lemme go, I havta cacth Zac/ Zat/… Magic-boy.
Bart materialized by their side, arms looping below Tim’s armpints to carry him to the recently put back to its correct place couch. He dropped there, tiny bird in his lap, cooing all the while.
-Aww, you’re precious.
-I could still huwt you -pointed out the toddler, resigning himself at being manhandled.
-I know -replied Bart lovingly, softly stroking his turf of hair.
Somewhere on the side, Cissie clapped her hands, as if getting rid of the dust there.
-Okay, I putted out the fire, so now I’ll be heading home. This magical bullshit is way out of my ‘retired’ comfort zone.
Cassie landed by her side and gave her a quick hug, while Greta walked up to them- I understand, thanks for coming.
-Give us a call when this is solved, we can have a coffee while you complain about your husbands. And… child, now, I guess. God, it was already weird calling Tim your husband, but now he’s a baby and it's doubly weird. Figure this out quickly.
-Will do. See you guys later.
One by one, they all left, some offering their support (appreciated, but not needed, thank you, we’ll manage), some still laughing. In the end, only the Core Four, Gar, Raven and Miguel remained. Zachary probably was there somewhere (if he dared leave without helping them fix this, he was dead meat), but out of the enraged toddler’s sight, which. Wise.
Even if said little human being was pint sized and cow eyed, he was probably still the most dangerous person in the room, unarmed or not (you know what, scratch that; if time with Tim taught them anything, was that no bat was ever unarmed. Even bare handed, their own bodies were weapons).
-...So... What should we do while we wait for Zatara’s solution?
-I vote movie night. It’s not like we can keep on drinking, with a kid in the room/ Auch! Pointy elbows, Tim!
Kon swooped in, picking Tim from Bart’s not invulnerable lap and cuddling to him on the couch by the speedster’s side. Tim knew better than to hit the Boy of Steel without proper equipment, so he let himself fall back against the broad chest. Cassie, talking to the older members of the team on the side, smiled softly at them before returning to her conversation.
As mad as his current situation made him, Tim couldn’t bring himself to pout too much. It had been a fun night, all things considered.
-----.-----
#Tim Drake#kon el kent#cassie sandsmark#bart allen#bruce wayne#dick grayson#Jason Todd#Damian Wayne#young justice#teen titans#core four#crack wedding#Don't know what I'm doing hahaha#don't have an excuse i'm just procastinating from studying for my finals#gonna be dead by next week so enjoy this folks#i did this instead of studying#my writing#No edit we die like women
119 notes
·
View notes