#pretty sure whoever I was died on that kitchen floor years ago

[kreftropod]

.

[lily-drake]

Happy Birthday Jason!

Jason ran as fast as he could through the streets back to his apartment where he knew his twin sister was waiting for him.  He raced up the fire escape and did a special tap against the window before opening it and entering the rundown broken apartment building.  As soon as he set his feet on the grossly stained carpet he felt a small body ram into him.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAY-JAY!”

His small sister, Marinette, cheered loudly as she crushed him in a hug.  He smiled as he hugged her back.

“Hey Pix.  Have you been good, didn’ cause too much trouble did ya?”

She shook her head against his chest and then jumped back as she ran towards their thin dirty sheet they used at night and brought it over to him.  

“Abuela gave me some money for cleaning her floors, so I gotcha somethin’!”

He pulled out a small cheap cardboard box from his hoodie pocket and handed it to her.

“Picked up enough money to get you somethin’ too.”

Her smile brightened, her smile didn’t belong in such a dark place.  They traded the gifts to each other and both were extremely happy.  Jason had given Marinette a small bracelet with a red string and different colored beads.  Marinette had gotten her brother an old book from the thrift shop that obviously used, but it was still good enough to be able to properly read from.  The book was titled Pride and Prejudice.  He looked so awed by the book and she felt immense pride in herself.  There was a bit of bread left over from a few days ago and Marinette made sure it was equally split so her brother also had his proper fill.  It was his birthday too after all!  

When it was time to go to sleep Jason read a chapter of the book to her then, the big meanie, made her read a chapter for him.  She stuttered a lot, but he would just smile and help her pronounce the word.  She was so lucky to have such an amazing big brother.

~~~~~~~~ It just didn’t feel right.  He had been living in the manor for a year now, and today felt so wrong without her.  Marinette had been taken by CPS three months before he had been caught stealing the tires off of the Batmobile.  He needed the money to hire a private investigator in order to find his sister.  It’s not that he didn’t trust Bruce, he just didn’t want him to put his sister into the danger that he was putting himself into as the new Robin.  He just knew that she would insert herself into vigilante life if she knew he was doing it.

Alfred seemed to understand what he was going through as he walked into the kitchen.  He didn’t know how the man knew, but he learned not to question it after spending about half a year in the manor.  He was silently eating his pancakes when Dick burst into the room yelling,

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY J-BIRD!”

While scooping him into his trademark octopus hugs.  Jason struggled to get out of it as shock and adrenaline coursed through his veins.  Instincts from living on the streets for many years never really going away.

“How old are you now?  You’re 14, right?”

“Yea, now get off me!”

He did not in fact get off of Jason, at least not until Alfred told him to a few seconds later.  Rolling out his arms and shoulders he rolled his eyes at his brother and turned back to his food.  After a few moments of peace Dick poked his arm to get his attention.  Jason sighed and turned to the side to look at Dick.

“Yes?”

“Here, I got you a present.”

Dick said with a bright smile that reminded him so much of his younger sisters.  He looked down and saw a rectangular looking thing hidden behind brightly colored and nicely wrapped wrapping paper.  Jason carefully took the book with a small thank you nod and tore open the paper to be met with a nice hard cover book of Peter Pan.

“I know we already have it in the library, but I thought you would want your own, and I just felt like you would like it.”

Dick said as he saw the gentle, reminiscent(?) look in Jason’s eyes as he stared at the book.  Jason willed himself not to cry as he stared at the book.  The book that inspired the nickname he gave his sister.  Abuela had read this book to them while they had stayed at her home during a harsh winter day.  Bless her soul, he knew that she was in the best place of heaven, if that place even existed.

Barbara walked into the kitchen with a bright smile and ruffled his hair.

“Happy birthday Jay.”

She said happily.  Jason looked up and gave her a small smile.

“Thanks.”

He hugged the book close to his chest.

“Means a lot.”

~~~~~~~~ Jason was angry, he didn’t understand why this was happening.  His body burned and everything felt like it was burning with pain.  He was training in the League with Talia.  He thought he had found a hint on where his sister was, and apparently his actual birth mother.  No, it was just a trap, and he had died by Joker's hands, and his sister wasn’t even there!  Now he spent the day training with Talia and whoever she saw fit to handle him.  His thoughts wandered to what his sister was doing, to what her life was like, if she was part of a good home, if she was still on the streets, if she was even alive.  No, of course she was, she had to be.  He refused to believe that she was gone before he could see her again.  

They are both 17 now, almost adults.  He would find her, but first he had to prove to Talia that he was ready.  He had to take out Bruce and his replacement.  D* that man, how dare he replace him like that.  He wasn’t just some tool, he was a person, he was important, he would show just how important he was.  This birthday was filled with rage that fueled him through the day, it was his motivation to find her one day and get his revenge.

~~~~~~~~ Jason watched silently as he attended a Justice League meeting with the rest of his family and Leaguers.  It was still rocky with his family, and he hadn’t been able to find a clue to where his sister was.  He still hadn’t told the others about her, though he was pretty sure B already knew about her from doing a background check or something.  He had never brought her up or done anything that made him think he actually knew about her though.  He had celebrated his 19th birthday, and so was she.  He was sure that she was still alive though.  He could never believe that she had passed.

A bright blue portal opened in the middle of the room just as expected.  Apparently Paris’s heroes were coming for a meeting or something today to discuss the Hero Ban there.  Five people in some form of animal themed suits walked through it.  A cat that looked like he could be Selina’s child, a bee, a snake, a dragon, and a ladybug.  

“Hello, I am Coccinelle and we are here to discuss the ban that we put up during Hawkmoth’s reign.”

He looked up suddenly, his eyes transfixed on the girl in the Ladybug suit that spoke.  His heart began to pick up racing quickly.  Her voice was so achingly familiar.  Her English was slightly accented in French, but it also had a small Gotham tint to it.

If this was a trick he would find a way to make the universe pay for this.  He hoped, he prayed to whatever God out there that existed that this was truly a gift from the universe.  He hadn’t realized that he had walked towards her until he was at her level staring into her eyes.

“Red Hood, what are you doing?”

Batman asked in his gruff voice.  He gently took off his helmet and mask before taking both her hands in his at her gasp.

“What are you doing, you bonehead fool?!”

Robin yelled at him, his glare intensifying.

Tears welled up in those oh so familiar blue eyes.  He had to be sure though.

“Marinette, is that you?”

She gave him a small nod before pulling her into a bone crushing hug.  Sobs left the young girl and silent tears fell down his cheeks as he ran his fingers through her hair in a comforting manner.

“J-Jason...I-I’m-”

“Shhh, it’s ok Pixie-Pop.  I got ya.  I’m not leavin’ ya again.”

It was silent around them as everybody observed what was happening, though the Miraculous team was shocked they smiled in a gentle knowing way.  A birthday gift from the universe it seemed, he wouldn’t curse it again…..At least he wouldn’t until the next world ending event.  He had his sister back in his arms, and that’s all he could ever ask for.

_________

I’m going to start an @ list.  If you want to be part of it comment your favorite part of the story or any story I’v written!  Thank you for reading!

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Be Here | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey lovelies! You ever just take a year to write a part two? Well, thanks to @hellotvshowtrash 's writing challenge I have finally written the second part to Come Back. I straight up just sat down and wrote this in less then two hours. The muses have blessed me and said Elijah Mikaelson reunion fic or nothing. I am not stupid-- I will not deny them. Shoutout to Lottie (@imdreamingwiththestars) for making me miss these boys <3

Description: Elijah was dead and now he's not, stand-alone sequel to Come Back

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Fem!Reader, Mainly Elijah

Prompt: "What was it like to die?"

Warnings: rushed writing, mentions of depression

Word count: 2k

Tags: Soft Angst and then Fluff

It’s been two years— well, almost two years. One year, eight months, and seventeen days. But who’s counting, right? Certainly not you. Certainly you wouldn’t be stupid enough to honestly believe that he’s coming back. Even after the promises. His promises and their promises— it doesn’t matter. Both mean nothing. You don’t blame them but you would be naive to believe them.

Still, you keep count— just in case. There’s no harm in that, right? Two years— one year, eight months, and seventeen days— without Elijah Mikaelson. Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach, your throat closing like it’s been only a few hours. Maybe there’s a little bit of harm.

You press your face harder into the sweater curled under your head. It doesn’t smell like him anymore— there’s no cinnamon left, none of his at least. None of the sugary vanilla that used to encase her like a NOLA bakery. Only traces of Kol’s nutty cinnamon blend— he must’ve snuck in here last night at some point. Both him and Klaus occasionally do. You don’t blame them for that either— you don’t have a monopoly on missing Elijah Mikaelson.

Slipping out of his sheets is harder than you would admit if either of the brothers were to ask you. It’s not like they’re warm or anything— they’re just as ice cold as the rest of the room— but they’re his and the thought of going the rest of the day without them just doesn’t appeal to you the way it should. Voices flit up the stairs but you don’t strain hard enough to make out the words. You could if you wanted to but there’s no point— you don’t care anymore. Not about trivial things— not about talking. You only do it when you have to these days.

The trek across the room to the door takes what feels like an hour. In reality you’re sure it’s only seconds but, well, this time you aren’t counting so who knows— maybe it did take you an hour. Sun is filtering past the curtains now, painting a stripe through the dim room and across the oak floor. An hour. You pause beside his dresser, debating going in to dig out a new hoodie. You haven’t taken a new one in about three months but your stash is running sparse. It’s not a hard decision, pushing past the dresser and leaving it untouched— you’ll need it more later.

In the hallway things feel different. You can’t put your finger on what it is exactly. There’s a slight shift in the atmosphere and a little more of a kick to the energy in the compound. It feels alive— like everything is humming. The hair on the back of your neck raises instinctively, the answer on your tongue but not quite forming. It’s probably nothing— you haven’t slept in two weeks. It’s probably exhaustion. You’re a vampire but you’re not impervious to sleep deprivation. Time marches on whether or not you acknowledge it— whether or not you reject it. You’ve learned that the hard way.

It’s why you keep padding towards your room, feet soft on the hardwood, trying desperately not to draw the attention of whoever’s in the kitchen. The electric charge in the air follows you to your bedroom, increasing ten-fold when you cross the threshold and halting your advance. You haven’t been in here in weeks but for some reason it feels like everything’s been disturbed. Not in a noticeable way— there’s still a thin layer of dust over everything— but something’s off. Your stomach rolls as you glance around at your things, the pressure building as your neck tingles. You could honestly just fucking scream.

Still, you push further, braving the sudden unknown of your room with a burst of stamina you haven’t felt in months. Breaching the doorway feels like being sucked into a new planet, one unrecognizable and dangerous. Thankfully you don’t need oxygen because you’re pretty sure there’s none in your room. Your chest is tight— heavy— and you make quick work of changing into a new pair of shorts and a Rolling Stones t-shirt that’s been hanging untouched in your closet for at least a year. You haven’t been afraid of it, per say, but you certainly weren’t ready to wear it. Today feels like the day though.

It isn’t until you go to sit on the bed, not bothering to even try to balance as you put your socks on, that you’re finally rewarded with a clue that you may not be as crazy as you feel. It’s warm— the bed is warm. Not the whole bed— because yes, you do reach out to check— only the part you happen to sit on. It’s warm like someone was just sitting here minutes ago and you spring up as quickly as you went down, closing your eyes and pulling in as much air from the room as possible. You’re getting to the bottom of this now. When the air reaches your nose some of the pieces begin to click together—

Cinnamon.

Only a faint trace of it but still your chest jumps— is it— no don’t be stupid it couldn’t be. You thump a hand against your chest to clear the feeling as you force your legs to carry you out the door. You realize too late that you only have one sock, your bare foot pressing against the cold wood of the staircase, but you’re too far and too determined to go back now. You’ve got to find Kol and you have a pretty good idea you know where he is.

Sugar wafts to your nose as you press towards the kitchen, mixed with a touch of citrus— Klaus must’ve picked up your favourite pastries. As you reach the door voices flit stronger to your ears. You can make out Klaus’ hushed tone but not his words, followed by a comment from Kol that you can’t decipher. Good, they’re both here.

The kitchen is by far the brightest room you’ve ventured into in months, the countertops gleaming so bright you have to squint, throwing a hand over your brows. When you blink, clearing the glare however, you notice something peculiar— no pastries. You could have sworn you just smelled them—

“Love, you’re awake.” There’s a whoosh of air followed by two hands on your face and the lingering scent of honey shampoo.

You smile weakly up at Klaus, shrugging. “Was never really asleep.”

Another pair of hands wrap around your stomach, pulling you into a nutmeg chest, lips finding your head. “That’s not healthy, darling. How long’s it been now?”

Shrugging again— this time at Kol— you let your eyes wander the kitchen, nose wrinkling at the heady sugar scent. “Two weeks, give or take.”

You can’t locate the source— but, then again, you can’t see past Klaus’s worried eyes. You watch as he tosses a look behind your head, presumably at Kol. When you roll your head back though you find that his brother’s brown eyes aren’t meeting his stare but are also tilted behind him. You chest jumps again, the air thickening, energy coursing through you— what the hell is going on?

You push away from the boys, arms crossing over your chest as you turn to the source of whatever’s got the compound disrupted this morning. Opening your mouth, you go to make a snarky remark— or to scream, you aren’t sure— but when you finally see it all that comes out is a soundless gush of air. All words are lost as your eyes drag over the back of a familiar brunette head, passing down a muscled back and over sweatpants you haven’t seen worn in years. One year, eight months, and seventeen days. It’s all you can do to poke your tongue out of your mouth, sweeping it over your dry mouth and tasting sugar.

There’s just no way.

You take a step backwards, back slamming into one of the brothers but unable to tear your eyes away from the figure long enough to see who. “What— what’s happening?”

Always the noble one, Elijah Mikaelson doesn’t keep you waiting, whirling on his feet, a box of pancake mix in his hands. “Couldn’t have waited ten more minutes, baby?”

You’re not alive but for a moment it feels like your heart stops as you drink in the man in front of you. Brown hair, brown eyes, stubble on his jaw the same as the day he died. Your vision clouds over, tears tugging at the corners of your eyes but you refuse to blink them away. You’re not risking clearing a vision this clear.

You take a tentative step forward, afraid that if you move too quickly the mirage might evaporate. “Elijah?”

“Hey baby.”

If your dead heart stopped upon seeing his silhouette then it restarts when he passes you the familiar, crooked smile that you fell in love with all those decades ago— the same one you’ve been longing for since the day he left you.

Fuck tiptoeing.

You’re across the room in record time, your hair flying behind you as you launch yourself into his arms, praying to whoever will listen that your body hits something solid. There’s a muted thud followed by his arms wrapping around you— his physical, cinnamon sugar scented arms. At his reciprocated touch you finally let yourself sob. You can’t remember the last time you actually let yourself cry but you are now and it’s finally out of relief.

Your hands attack his face, palms deranged and fingers haphazardly dragging across his neck and jaw and scalp. Your shoulders are shaking, tears hot against your face and pooling over your lips but you refuse to look away from his gaze. He looks just as wild as you feel, brown eyes ticking rapidly over your features. It’s all you can do to smash your mouth against his, crying through the kiss before laughing because he still tastes like your Elijah. Like cinnamon buns and sweetness.

“This can’t be real— you’re dead. I saw you die!” You sob against his lips.

He presses his mouth back just as hard, hands digging against your skin and clawing at his band t-shirt. You reciprocate by squeezing your thighs harder around his hips, pressing your body as close to his as you can get. It’s not enough but you feel like you can finally breathe again when you crush your arms around his shoulders.

“I know—” he finally murmurs into your mouth— “but I’m here. Right here.”

You pull away, hands still carding through his soft hair, pulling at the damp strands. “‘Lijah you were dead— I— I thought you weren’t coming—”

Your chest feels heavy again but he’s quick to move, cutting your destructive train of thought with his cinnamon and honey lips. You don’t mind— he could do anything right now and you would still cling to him like your life depends on it. Kissing him has been at the top of your list for two years now— you’re not going to refuse. One of his hands lowers, hooking around your thigh and tugging you higher up his body. You’re not the only one whose life depends on staying as connected as possible.

“It’s real— I’m real. I promised you, baby. I’m back— I promise I’m back.”

Just like that you’re back to giggling against his mouth, arms anchored behind his neck. Soon your head is falling back, the euphoria rolling through your body like nothing you’ve ever felt before. You would never wish for him— for any of them— to leave you again but this feeling makes every gruelling day worth it. He’s back. As if to prove it his lips find your neck, kissing over your skin feverishly.

After a few moments of soaking in the attention of the resurrected man you finally pull yourself together enough to attempt a true conversation like a respectable woman.

“What was it like to die?”

He chuckles against your skin, shaking his head, his lips never leaving you. “I’ll tell you later— there are a few matters we need to sort out first baby, starting with getting you out of that fucking t-shirt. It’s been too long.”

Who are you kidding— he’s right and you hum your agreement, lips searching for his, desperate once more—

“One year, eight months, and seventeen days too long.”

[egoludes]

let me come home: two.

Summary: After years at a dead-end job shouldering everyone’s expectations for you but your own, you’re finally free to be whoever you want, go wherever you want. That is, until a series of unfortunate events strand you in Amber’s End, where the sheriff – and notoriously unmated pack alpha – decides to take you in.

Pairings: alpha!Steve Rogers x omega!Reader; side alpha!Bucky Barnes x beta!Sam Wilson

Notes: Wowowow - I don’t even want to count how many months it’s been, but we are finally back in business! I can’t thank you all enough for the love you showed on the first chapter of this and I am beyond excited to share this and hear what you think. Big reminder from the last chapter that parts one and two are all about setting the stage for Steve and our lovely reader. So,  this is more or less 5k of more background. But, I really loved introducing Bucky, Sam, and Nat (Bucky especially because he’s going to be huge here!) and hope you enjoy them too. Especially my Heat Wave readers - mechanic!Bucky returns! And I promise parts three and four will be extra juicy to make up for it. Divider credit goes to @writeyourmindaway​!

Chapter warnings: Werewolf AU, A/B/O dynamics, incredibly basic knowledge of cars that is probably incorrect

The drive to Steve’s home is short: five minutes from the diner to the base of a wooded hill, another ten to reach the peak. You follow him up a slanted stretch of road with eyes trained on his tail lights, but there are moments when your gaze strays. Sunset lingers on either side of you, framing the forest in a pretty glow. The blend of deep orange and soft pink is hard to look away from, even when you know you should be focused elsewhere, and you make your way to the top in that dizzying in-between. 

When you finally come to a stop, it’s on a patch of paved road - a welcome change to the gravel before it - in front of a large wooden cabin. Behind you, the town’s spread out in a panorama, spanning for what feels like an eternity. You can see everything from here: the humble spread of Main Street; the blues and greens of the Hummingbird; and finally, the mountains, majestic and steady beyond that.

It’s the perfect place for the pack’s alpha to be and, coincidentally, has been the home of Rogers alphas for three generations now.

That lived in feel is the first thing you notice when you make it inside. The structure is sturdy, hasn’t so much as gnarled over the years. The decor, on the other hand, is dated. Doilies on some surfaces and beer coasters on others, there are hints of Steve and the alphas who came before him throughout. Still, it’s cozy, and you say as much in an appreciative hum as you pull your bag off your shoulder. 

The first floor is all open space, and you can see most of it from your spot in the foyer. It doesn’t take long for Steve to situate you - sitting room, kitchen, bathroom, and master bedroom — before leading you towards the stairs. The walls along the staircase are full of memory; pictures of him and his loved ones that catch your eye as you ascend. You don’t have time to linger now, but make a point to look them over before you go. He’s piqued your interest too much not to be a little nosy.

The second floor, on the other hand, isn’t nearly as wide as the first. There are three doors in the whole hallway, two on either side with the third directly in front of you. He identifies each as the guest room, the storage room, and a study in that order, though he’s careful to call out that no one’s used the study in a long time. 

There’s a story there, you’re sure, but any interest in it leaves when Steve presses the guest bedroom door open. The bed inside is too big for the room, one side even touching the walls. And like the rest of the house, it’s decorated in a way that reminds you of your grandmother; a quaintness that’s endearing on a man like Steve. But, as out of place as things might be, there’s an undeniable comfort walking into that room. Steve smiles when he smells it on you -- that cinnamon-sweet rise of contentment as you sink down on the bed at his behest.

“It’s a short tour,” he admits, leaning against the doorjamb, “but this is about it. You’re welcome to anything in the kitchen if you get hungry again tonight or before you go tomorrow. I’m usually up early, so in case I don’t see you, enjoy the rest of your trip. Take care of yourself.” 

It’s new to you, how easily people can offer such genuine acts of care. He hardly knows you, yet there’s no doubt that he means what he says. The thought of it makes you return that thoughtful smile. “Thank you, Steve - you’re seriously a lifesaver.”

With a final smile, he leaves you to it, shutting the door behind him.

At the click, you settle further into the bed, toeing your shoes off and sifting through your bag for house clothes and a towel. Your travels so far have been an adventure, to say the least. Just a few months ago, you’d been working a stressful entry-level job on Wall Street. Pressed skirts, sharp teeth, the days were full of routine, but not the kind that’s pleasant. Everything was uncertainty and fleeting gratification as you competed, day after day, for a seat at the table. 

Add to that the constant nagging from your family to find a mate  — the endless string of blind dates, the passive-aggressive mentions of other friends’ announcements; it’s a wonder you’d endured it all as long as you had.

The decision to quit had been a long time coming. The decision to leave was a whim - the first you’d had in a long time. It was freeing to even be able to make the choice and the lack of commitment only grew more intoxicating from there. You feel freer, less suffocated, and so does your wolf  — it’s a change you’d desperately needed.

That feeling is what follows you into the shower as you wash away the day, and back to bed in your loose pjs. As you settle in, you have to stop yourself from sighing out loud. The mattress is as tender as a cloud, molding to your body at every point, and after weeks of motel beds (and the back of your Jeep), you fall headfirst into that comfort. Sleep comes fast and stays put.

                                                       ----

When you wake in the morning, the world is quiet. It’s a long way from New York’s chaos and you bask in it, eagerly at that. The sun filtering in through the window above you leaves kaleidoscope patterns on the sheets. Your hand moves to trace them for a bit, thumb to fractured color, until you’re awake enough to focus your ear to the house. 

Like outside, Steve’s cabin is tranquil, not even a hint of the alpha’s presence. Given his warning the night before, it isn’t surprising, but you’re still a little disappointed. You’d hoped to repay him for his kindness somehow — maybe with breakfast, or whatever change you could spare. But, you’ll settle for what you can get: you make a mental note to try and catch him at his office before you leave town.

Weeks on the road have made your morning routine as efficient as it gets. So once you’re completely up, you’re out the door not long after, a slice of buttered toast between your teeth to get your system going. You find your car where you left it at the end of Steve’s drive and you approach with a bounce in your step, all thanks to the night of comfortable sleep. 

Maybe you ought to grab Steve a fruit basket before you stop by.

You’re racking your memory of Main Street for bakeries or something close when you settle into the driver’s seat. But, gratitude towards Steve quickly becomes the last thing on your mind when you try to start your Jeep and get nothing but a grinding sound. It isn’t promising, but you try it again, only to get even less response before the car dies altogether. 

You groan out loud, head dropping to the steering wheel while your shoulders sink in defeat. It was inevitable, really - it’s been years since you inherited the car from your older sister and it was only through a slew of band-aid fixes that it made it this far. 

Still, the timing can’t be any worse; you don’t have a schedule to meet, but it isn’t much of a road trip if you can’t make it on the road. You fish your cell out of your jacket pocket, hoping that your service has somehow improved between last night and this morning. But, you only have a couple bars - finicky connection at best - so, you head back into Steve’s home where you’re certain you’d noticed a landline. 

When you find it, you also come across a phone book --- not the newest edition, but recent enough. The list of mechanics in the area isn’t long, so you thumb in the first number you see. The phone rings only twice before someone picks up. 

“Barnes Garage?”

“Hi,” you start, perking up at the quick answer, “I just tried to start my car and it’s not working. It made this weird sound at first, then when I tried again, it just died.”

The man on the other end hums and you can hear paper rustling in the background like he’s taking notes. “Alright, we can send someone out right now to tow you in and take a look - what’s your address?”

“I don’t...actually know,” you admit, face hot from embarrassment when he goes silent. You must sound ridiculous. “I’m not from around here, so I’m just staying with someone. I’m not sure about the address.” 

A chuckle rises from him that eases your shame just a bit. “Alrighty. Well, it’s a small town  — tell me who you’re stayin’ with and I’m sure between the three of us here, we’ll know where to find ‘em.”

There’s a part of you that’s skeptical of that; but for a town so small and a pack so close-knit, maybe it’s possible. “Uh, sure. I stayed with Steve Rogers  — the sheriff?”

The line goes silent again, this time so prolonged you think the call dropped. Then, the mechanic speaks up and you can almost swear he’s smiling. “No shit. I know exactly where that is, I can be there in fifteen? Maybe twenty? That work for you?”

“Well, I won’t be going anywhere, so that works perfectly.”

                                                        ----

The mechanic manages the trip in ten, when you glance out the window at the sound of an engine to see a dark blue tow truck stalking up Steve’s driveway. You come out to greet it just as the man driving climbs out and nearly gasp. He’s as handsome as Steve had been: piercing blue eyes, an angled, stubble-lined face, and deep brown hair gathered at his nape. There’s something familiar about him you can’t seem to place, but it’s out of sight and out of mind when he closes the distance with a wide smile. “Well, hi there -- ‘m Bucky. Spoke to you on the phone.” You give him your name, to which he nods. “So, I’ll get your car down to the shop and we’ll take a look, see if we can’t fix you up today. You wanna come with me, or you staying at Stevi -- uh, Steve’s for the day?”

You shake your head . “Nah, I can come with - I was planning to head out of town today anyway, so I’m hoping I can just head out from your garage.”

“Hop on in then.”

The ride with Bucky is surprisingly warm. He’s not exactly talkative, but he’s engaging; asking questions where he needs to, humming out his interest when he doesn’t. You get so settled into the flow of quiet radio and chatter that you don’t realize you’ve made it to his shop until the truck comes to a full stop. 

Barnes Garage sits at the corner of some of Amber’s End’s quieter streets. The large lot outside has a few cars parked with a path between them for new ones to be driven into the workshop. Bucky’s pulled your Jeep right into that path, though he’s stopped halfway between the curb and the garage building. “It’ll take me maybe a half hour to really dig in --- you can stick around or explore, it’s up to you, but I’ll let you out here.”

You climb out with a nod, thanking him before nodding towards the streets behind you. “I’ll probably head out - grab a few more things before I go. See you in thirty?” 

For the second time in as many days, you’re exploring Main Street, this time with an eye out for the stores you didn’t visit the day before. There aren’t many, to be frank, so after the first few, you take to stopping in on some of the people you’ve met already. They seem surprised to see you again, but take advantage of your presence to tell you more about themselves, the town, their wares. 

You realize quickly that none of the stories about Amber’s End really do it justice. It’s quainter than what you’re used to, sure, but there’s so much history there. It’s romantic almost - like the first turn of an old book or light filtering into a tea shop. 

You think you’ll miss it when you leave, even if just for a little while.

When you get back to the shop, you’re a few souvenirs richer and have something nice to give Steve on your way out of town as well. Bucky is sitting at a computer - the model recognizably old but reliable like the rest of the town. He perks up at the sight of you, already waving before you make it all the way in the door and pull your scarf from around your face. “So,” he starts, walking to your car with a hand under his chin. “I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad news.”

You grimace. “Ok --- good news first.”

“Well, I know what’s wrong with the car. The starter motor,” he taps a finger on the hood over the spot where the part lives, “is out. Completely done. But, we can get a part delivered here to get you back on the road.”

“Okay,” you eye him suspiciously. “Then, what’s the bad news?”

“Lookin’ at the places we get our parts from, they’re all outta stock for the model you’ve got. The soonest the part could be here is in a month, and even that might be generous with all the storms lately.” As if pre-empting your shock, he hands over an invoice to confirm it.

Seeing it written out, plain as day, makes you grimace. Staying anywhere for a whole month (or more) had never been in the cards; but, there’s no way you can afford a new car either - you were just barely making it through with the money you’ve budgeted as is. You take a long, hard look at the estimate Bucky’s handed you before taking a deep breath to gather your thoughts. “Okay,” you start slowly, “so how does this work? If I decide to wait for the part.”

He gestures to the door behind you that leads to the lot from earlier. “We have a reserve lot - it’s where we keep all the cars that are waiting on a part for service. I’d keep your car here - free of charge - until the part comes, then we fix ‘er up. You’d pay for the part now and the fix later, when we call you to make sure it all looks good.”

You nod, glancing up from the sheet briefly before looking back at the part expense. It isn’t bad in the grand scheme of things - certainly cheaper than a used car that’ll just give up on you in a few months anyway. But, it will be a good chunk of what you’d set aside for your trip and if you’re staying put for the month, there’s no way you can afford to do it without really settling in. Job and all. “Okay - let’s do it.”

“Sounds good.” Bucky’s eyes are full of sympathy as he watches you; from what little you’d told him in the ride over, being stuck in one place is the last thing you wanted right now. “You want me to get you to Steve? He’ll have some good ideas for what you can do next.”

The nervous knots that’ve been building since the conversation started uncoil some at the mention of the other Alpha, though you try your best to ignore it with another nod to Bucky. “That would be great.”

                                                       ----

The sheriff’s station is small but busy when you walk in. Bucky trails ahead of you, walking with purpose that surprises you. At first, you chalk it up to the town being so small  — maybe there’s an open door policy for the residents. But, then you notice the way deputies and junior deputies let him by without even batting an eye. The ones who do simply nod, offering a smile while Bucky walks right past them and reception into Steve’s open office door. 

“Buck?” You can hear ahead of him. “What are you doing here..?” It dawns on you then that they must know each other; intimately, judging by the nickname and the pure ease that Bucky has as he maneuvers the station.

You hesitate to interrupt their moment, but Bucky’s response to Steve’s question is to angle himself so you can be seen from behind him. That’s when Steve notices you and you wave with a sheepish smile. “He brought me, actually - my car’s broken down and I don’t think I’ll be able to leave for a bit. I wanted to make sure you knew before you came home and found me still there…”

Your presence brings Steve to his feet and you notice that he’s in his sheriff’s uniform for the first time. Somehow, he seems more comfortable in it than the casual wear you’ve seen him in so far, but there’s no denying that he looks just as good. “Hey -- you don’t have to worry about that, I wouldn’t just kick you out. I’m sorry to hear about the car, though - anything I can do to help?” 

“Unless there’s a way the local sheriff’s office can put a little muscle on an auto-parts dealer,” you tease, drawing a snort from Bucky beside you, “I think I’m okay. I’m hoping we can talk more about where I should stay when you get back, though?” 

“Sounds good to me.”

With your big news out in the open, you turn on your heel to leave, but pause as another thought strikes you. “Actually, one thing I could use some help with: know of anyone hiring?”

Steve’s face turns pensively and you can see his mind working for an answer. “Not that I can think of, no…,” he offers, a little remorse in his tone, “but you know what? Most places are willin’ if you know who to talk to. How about Bucky take you around? See what you find?”

After giving his instructions to a suspiciously enthusiastic Bucky, Steve turns his attention back to you. You expect to see pity, but there’s nothing there but genuine concern. You feel a little warmth from it, like you’re protected just by standing in front of him, and wonder if this is how everyone in his pack must feel. “I’ll be back late today, so you can feel free to eat without me. Bucky will take care of you until then and help you talk to some folks about a job. You call me if you need me.” He brandishes a business card from a holder on his desk and pencils his cell number on the back before handing it over. “If you’re still awake when I get in, we can talk about your living situation. Otherwise, settle in for one more night and we’ll talk in the morning.”

                                                       ----

Over the rest of the day, Bucky takes you to a few shops with vacancies: pharmacy, market, the doctor’s office. Nothing seems to strike a chord for you, though, and you start to grow dejected, anticipating yet another job you have to work  out of necessity.

Then, Bucky pulls into the gravel lot of a tavern.

Widow’s Den is the name carved in large wooden blocks over the front door, and despite the afternoon hour, there are a few cars parked in front of it. When you duck inside, a group of older men and women sit, talking over beers.

A tall, broad man is working the bar, his laughter booming over a pop song you haven’t heard in years. Beside you, Bucky beams, scent thickening at the sight, and you realize quickly that this must be the person behind the ring on his left hand and the soft pink mark on the right side of his neck. His mate. It’s adorable to see — this charismatic alpha unraveled at one glimpse of the man he loves. 

“Babe,” Bucky chimes for the bartender’s attention as you approach the bartop. Not that he needs to, though; it’s obvious in the way his scent spikes that he’s long since noticed Bucky’s presence and you nearly coo at that too. “Nat in the back?”

“Yeah,” he responds, not looking your way yet as he finishes pouring a drink. “Doing inventory, I think.” Once the drink’s delivered, he offers his full attention and that’s when he notices you. “Who’s this?”

Bucky grins, smile taking on a boyish quality as he slings an arm around your shoulders. “New girl, looking for a job. Her car’s in the shop with me now, so she’s staying with our lovely sheriff until it gets fixed up.” 

The bartender’s intrigue is immediate, eyes widening before he grins slyly — as if privy to a secret you’re not — and folds arms over his chest. The pose accentuates the corded muscle along his arms and chest and you have to stop yourself from sighing. Is there anyone in this town that isn’t woefully in shape? “You’re kiddin'. With Steve?” You have more questions than you know what to do with, but there’s no time to think about asking one when his hand is thrust your way. “Well, then, nice to meet you, girlie. I’m Sam.” 

The smile he offers you is welcoming, and you forget about the odd focus on your staying with Steve (it isn’t even official yet!) to accept his hand. When you share your name in return, the smile widens and he tips his head towards the stretch of hallway by the other end of the bar. “Head on back to talk to Nat -- Bucky can show you the way.”

The brunet rests a hand to your back, pausing only to give Sam a quick kiss over the bar before he takes you towards the back hallway. The vibe in this half of the building is noticeably different. Homey, like the staircase at Steve’s cabin. You recognize many of the same faces in these pictures as the ones back at Steve’s. Bucky’s against Sam’s shoulder, Steve head and shoulders over the rest. There are a few where he’s even bare faced, looking eons younger than he does now, but not a smidgen less intense, and you work out easily that they’ve all been friends for some time, maybe even since puphood.

It’s admirable to you, maybe even enviable too. You have friends from that age as well, but the unforgiving pace of city life had made it hard to stay close. The smiles in the bar’s pictures, in comparison, speak to nothing but growing bonds, year after year.

You can’t help but smile too.

“This way.” Bucky’s voice brings you out of your thoughts and into a half-cracked doorway. The room is cluttered, stacked with boxes and bottles. And in the center of the chaos is a woman with striking red hair, pulled up and out of her face. Her aura holds a candle to Steve’s; far-reaching, imposing, and immediate. There’s no mistaking her as anything but an Alpha, and when her eyes leave the clipboard she’s holding to focus on you instead, you struggle against the instinctive need to bow into yourself. But, years of Wall Street’s brutal pace (that cares very little for rank) steel you. You see something akin to amusement flash in her eyes when you meet her gaze head-on.

“What did I tell you about bringing in strays, James?” Her tone is level, but the words have no real bite. You look up at Bucky warily still, who reassures you with a little smile.

“This one’s not a stray --- not really, anyway.” He loops an arm around your shoulder again and you can tell the familiarity intrigues Nat. “She’s new in town - staying for a month or two until I can get her car squared up, so we’re hopin’ to find her a place to work.”

“Just a couple? That’s not a long time --- I mean, by the time you get settled in, you’re gonna be out of here.” A valid concern; one that the other shop owners had shared when Bucky told them your predicament. There isn’t much you can say to ease the worry, but it turns out you don’t have to. Nat turns the rest of the way to set her scrutinizing gaze on you properly and the look compels you to stay put; almost as if you’re presenting yourself to her. A stretch of silence sets in and the longer it goes, the more convinced you are that she’s about to reject you outright. Then, she clicks her tongue. “Hm. We don’t need much right now, but I could throw you a couple bucks if you want to help us bus tables or something. This is the only spot to really drink in town, so we could always use the help on busy nights.”

You’re so relieved you could kiss her, but you don’t need superhuman instinct to know that would not go well. You settle instead for a wide smile, the sort that’s contagious to the Alphas in the room who start beaming with you. “That would work for me!”

“Good,” she grins, setting her clipboard aside to cross her arms, “now to celebrate our new arrival.”

                                                       ----

You spend the rest of the day at Widow’s Den, getting to know Sam, Bucky, and Natasha over glasses of their best liquor. They confirm your suspicion that they’ve known each other for some time: Steve and Bucky are lifelong friends, brought together by a schoolyard fight started by a Steve who wasn’t even half the other boys’ heights. Meanwhile, Sam and Natasha came into the fray during high school years, transfers from their deep South and Russian hometowns respectively. But, they folded into the fabric of the boyhood duo easily and had been a foursome ever since.

You still don’t know where Sam and Bucky’s relationship turned romantic, but there’s an ease there that makes you guess it has been a while. Natasha, like you, is unmarked, but it’s rare for Alphas to do that anyway. You’re curious to learn more about her in particular. 

As time moves on, the bar fills more and more and you get a glimpse of what your life will be like for the next few weeks. The crowd is certainly diverse - people of all ages filing in with friends or on their own. In an odd way, there’s two bars existing in one - young and old, energetic chatter and introspective talk. 

By the time you leave, you’re a little tipsy and Bucky guides you out with a hand on your back. So far, you haven’t come across any other omega in their circle, and you wonder if his constant touch is a result of that instinct to protect you. The conversation on the ride back to Steve’s flows more freely now that you’ve spent so much time together and when he drops you off, he surprises you with an offer for a hug. When he glimpses that surprise, he laughs. “None of that now - you’ll be seeing a lot of me from now on, so we’re friends, sweetheart.” 

You laugh and step into his arms - you suppose he’s right.

                                                       ----

It’s near one in the morning when Steve finally comes home. His midnight patrol had been as uneventful as usual ---- a blessing, he thinks, considering how distracted he’d been during the run. His wolf is restless, agitated by the thought of this new omega being around longer than expected. He found his thoughts trailing to her during his time in the woods, particularly as he passed the quarry he’d found her in, and there was an eagerness to find out how the rest of the day with Bucky had gone.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little nervous. His friend, dear as he is, can be a handful, even for him. 

When he comes in, he’s shocked to find you still awake in the living room, a mug of what smells like herbal tea in your hand as you flip through a book from his shelf. You look up at him from the book, a dopey smile to your face, and that’s when the other, underlying smell on you hits. Alcohol --- something woody that’s familiar. He guesses Bucky must’ve taken you to Widow’s Den, which would explain why you’re still up at this time.

“Hey,” he speaks up, nodding at you, “couldn’t sleep?”

You shake your head, book forgotten as you cradle your tea with your other hand. “It’s been a busy night - still a bit wired!” 

Fair, he thinks. “Tell me about it - did it go well with Buck?”

You start to ramble about the day - the places you tried, the time at Widow’s Den, the offer from Nat you ultimately accepted. He tries not to tense too visibly, but he can’t hide the way his scent sharpens the way it often does when an Alpha is on edge. He can see the impact it has on you instantly; the way your excitement slows and your eyes dart to try and pick out what caused it.

He reassures you - or does his best to - with a smile, urging you on. He won’t explain this yet, but the crowd at Widow’s Den can be rowdy when they want to be, especially when they’re from out of town. Nat and Sam will show you the ropes --- and step in where they have to --- so you’ll be in good hands; but he wouldn’t be Steve if he didn’t worry. You’re the newest wolf in town now --- a part of his pack, even if just for a short while.

When you’re done recapping the day, his smile grows, the gesture deliberately wide to make up for his worry catching you off-guard. “Well, I’m glad to hear it went well - Nat and Sam are good people, they’ll take care of you.”

“I believe it.” You pause, running a finger along the rim of your mug. “Which reminds me, I… I don’t have to stay here. Once I start working, I think I’ll be able to check in at the Hummingbird, see if that room’s opened up.”

Steve gives you the same stern look from the diner and you almost giggle at the sight. It’s hard to see the same intimidating alpha now that you’ve heard a little about him from his friends.  “Come on - what kind of pack leader would I be if I kicked you out now?” He stands from the couch, eyes -- and stomach -- starting to turn towards the kitchen. “I won’t stop you if you prefer the motel, of course,  but the offer to stay here will be open until your car’s ready to go.” 

“Are you sure...?”

His stern face softens, giving way to another smile. “Positive - don’t worry about it, okay?” 

After the last twenty four hours, it’s hard to doubt his capacity for kindness, but reassurance is always appreciated. You thank him one last time as he stalks into the kitchen, wishing you a good night, and when your tea is finished, you pad up to the guest bedroom with your chest feeling as warm as your tummy. 

As you finally doze, it’s with a head full of excitement; like a kid the night before a field trip. You didn’t expect it, sure, but you’re ready, anticipant, for the start of your life for the next two months.

[falcqns]

partner in crime lV

pairing: August Walker x Reader, August Walker x OFC (Maeve)

summary: August attempts a mission and looks for a nanny.

warnings: ANGST, mentions of graphic death, fluff, mentions of character death, mention of harm inflicted upon an infant. 18+ ONLY.

a/n: This one got a little dark, sorry! Hope you enjoy! also if I missed ANYTHING in the warnings, PLEASE LET ME KNOW! I have mom brain so it wouldn't surprise me if I forgot something!

August hung up the phone with a sigh.

Sloane needed him for a mission.

It wasn’t a high risk mission or anything, Sloane had taken him off of those when he’d informed her he’d be taking Maeve in, but August was still nervous. He didn’t really have friends, and the friends he did have were coming on the mission with him. He had no contact with his mother, his father was dead, and he had no siblings.

He had no one to watch Maeve. He sighed, and flopped his body down on the bed, being careful to avoid the sleeping baby just inches from him. He didn’t know what to do. Sloane said she’d watch her, but she was needed at the Capitol, so his only option was his mother.

He still had her phone number, and she still had his, but he was still nervous. He found her number in his contacts, not under any name, just a number, but he knew it was hers. He took a deep breath, and hit ‘call’.

She answered after the fourth ring. “August?” She said, in a rather monotone voice.

“Hello mom.” He said hesitantly. He heard a slight laugh on the other side of the phone.

“I’m guessing you need something. You never call me.” She said, and August swallowed the lump in his throat, sparing a glance at Maeve.

“Yeah, I do. I um-” He took a deep breath to try and stop the shakiness in his voice. “I have a daughter.” He said simply, and when there was no response, he continued. “I-I only found out about her 2 weeks ago. Her mother died, and I’m all she has left. But, I have to go on a mission, and I don’t have anyone else to watch her. I was wondering if you could.”

“Of course I can.”

August let out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank you. I know you and I aren’t on the best of terms, but I have to leave tomorrow night and I haven’t found a nanny yet.” He said.

His mother laughed breathily. “August, I know I wasn’t the best mother to you, and I apologize for that. It’s one of the biggest regrets of my life, pushing you away. If I can make it better, then I want to. And she’s my granddaughter. It’s my job to be there and help you.” She said, and August felt a tear drip down his face.

“Thank you, mom.” He said, a smile breaking onto his lips.

“You’re so welcome Auggie.” His mother said warmly and full of love, a tone and nickname he hadn’t heard since his father was still alive.

August took a shaky breath. He was fully packed for the mission, and his mother was almost there. He knew Maeve would be perfectly fine without him for a day or two, but he didn’t know if he would be. What if she had a trauma meltdown while he was gone, and his mom didn’t know how to handle it? What if something happened to her, and he couldn’t get there quick enough? He’d never be able to live with himself if something terrible happened to her. Despite going into this agreement of taking in Maeve with pity for her situation rather than love for her, she had a hold on his heart, and their bond was the strongest one August had ever had.

To be honest? Maeve had become his reason for getting up in the morning. It used to be his job, but when Anais walked through his door with Maeve in her arms, that little girl became his reason to live. Finding out who hurt Maeve’s mom was a top priority. He couldn’t let his little girl down.

Although he hated to think about it, or admit it, he knew that one day, Maeve would ask what happened to her mother. She’d probably ask him her first day of school.

He could just imagine her on a crisp September morning, a little dress on her body, running shoes on her feet, and her curly hair in two little braids. A backpack practically the size of her on her back, and her eyes full of excitement. He could see her bounding up to him in the school yard after her first day, and the first sentence out of her mouth.

‘Daddy, why don’t I have a mommy like everyone else in my class?’

His breath caught in his throat merely at the imagery. What would he tell her? He wasn’t religious, so telling her that her ‘mommy is up in heaven’ would mess with both of their minds, and his moral compass. How do you explain to a child, any child, that their mother is dead, and you didn’t know why?

A knock at the door pulled him from his reverie, followed by a squeal from Maeve who was playing at his feet. He stood up, and pulled her up to sit on his hip. He took a deep breath, and the father daughter duo made their way to the door to greet his mother.

He opened the door, and there stood his mom. She still looked the same, with a few more wrinkles, and a few more grey hairs. The only thing that was different was the warm smile sitting on her lips.

“Hi Auggie.” She said tentatively, and August smiled back. “Hi mom. Come on in.” He said, and she followed him inside the apartment. She looked around in an amazement at his rather large apartment.

“Your place is beautiful, honey.” She said, and August smiled again.

“Thank you. We recently moved because she needed her own room and playroom and my one bedroom bachelor pad wasn’t cutting it.” he explained, and him and his mom shared a laugh, the first one in many years.

He showed her around the living room, kitchen, his bedroom, her bedroom, the bathrooms, the office, and the both balconies. He dropped Maeve off in her playroom, and August and her mom made their way back to the kitchen.

“So, you might have noticed she doesn’t have a crib.” August said, and his mother nodded.

“Yes I did. Is there a reason she doesn’t have one?” His mother asked.

August took a deep breath and began to explain. “I mentioned that her mother had died, but I didn’t mention how. Her mothers name was Adriana. We were never in a relationship, I barely knew her. We had one night together, and I never saw her again. But, a little over 3 weeks ago, I got a call from a lady named Anais Torres from Child Protective Services and she told me about Maeve. Adriana was killed. In front of Maeve. I won’t go into detail about her death because it was awful. They also hurt Maeve. Not as bad as Adriana, but still pretty badly. She has some scarring around her wrists from it, but mainly it’s emotional trauma.” He said, and reached out to hold his mothers hand when she began to cry.

“That poor baby,” She said, a sniffle coming out as well. August nodded. “She seems so happy though.”

August nodded again before continuing. “She is. She has ups and downs. She doesn’t fully understand what happened, but I think she has PTSD. She goes to a psychiatrist next week and I’ll find out for sure, but I’m pretty much certain she does. The crib is the main trigger. They restrained her to a crib, and she was forced to watch her mom die through there. I put her in it the first night, but she was already half asleep when I laid her in it, so she didn’t notice. She had a nightmare a few hours after, and that’s when she realized she was in a crib. I thought about a playpen, but I assume she’ll have the same reaction. Her other triggers are handcuffs, guns, small spaces. She’s also having an aversion to the smell of peppermint gum, so I think whoever killed her mom was chewing peppermint gum.” He explained, and his mom nodded.

“Okay. If she does get triggered, what do I have to do to calm her down?” “Hold her.” August said simply. “Just remind her that she’s safe and loved and nothings going to hurt her anymore. It can go on for a while, but it never goes beyond crying. She’ll settle down, and fall asleep. She’ll be a little off and emotional for the next few hours, but she’ll be back to normal soon enough. Playing with her hair helps a lot, as does her pacifier.” He said, and his mom nodded.

“Okay. Does she have a daily schedule?” She asked, and August nodded again.

“I usually wake her up around 6:30 because I have to be at work for 7 and she comes with me, but I’ll let her fall asleep in the car again. If I let her sleep, she’ll wake up around 9 or 9:30, so don’t worry about waking her up. She has a floor bed, and she’s been staying in it really well. She doesn’t nap in it, she prefers to nap in my bed, which I allow. For breakfast she has formula, oatmeal, dry cheerios, and some fruit. She’ll play for a few hours, and then she’ll have a nap. She’ll sleep for an hour or an hour and a half, but don’t let her sleep longer than an hour and a half. Then she’ll have lunch. Usually she’ll have the same thing I have, so whatever you make, just give her some of it. Just make sure it’s in small enough pieces. She has a bottle after, and I let her have a little bit of screen time. Her favourite show is Mickey Mouse ClubHouse, so I let her watch a few episodes. She’ll have another bottle, and another nap, and then she’ll play again for a few hours. By the time she’s done playing she’ll be ready for dinner. After dinner, she has a bath, then a book and bed. She usually goes to bed between 6:30-7.” He said, and his mom nodded.

“I put her schedule on the fridge in case you forget anything, along with her triggers. If you need anything, call me. I managed to convince Sloane, my boss, to let me keep my phone on in case you or her need anything.” He said. She just nodded again, and then a chime from his phone was heard, signalling that Ilsa and Benji were on their way to pick him up.

He sighed. “I should go say goodbye to her. I’ve gotta go.” He said, and his mom followed him into Maeve’s playroom where she was building (or trying to) a tower with big lego blocks.

“Maeve?” He called, getting down to her level and watched as she whipped her head around and gave August a big smile. “Come to Dada,” he said, and she dropped the Lego she was holding to crawl over.

He heard his mom chuckle behind him. “She listens a lot better than you did at that age,”

August smiled as he scooped her up. “I always think the same thing. Definitely learned it from her mother.” August remarked sadly. Partly out of what he had learned about Adriana, but mainly because he was going to miss the little girl he’d come to love so easily.

“I’m gonna miss you, but you’re gonna have so much fun with your grandma. I love you.” He said, and she smiled and cuddled him back, her curly head resting on his shoulder. His phone chimed again and he let out a sad sigh.

“Dada has to go. I’ll see you in two days, okay?” He said, and tried not to cry when he handed her off to his mom.

He said goodbye to his mom, and gave her another kiss on the head, before walking out the door, and trying to ignore the sounds of his daughter's pained wails for him. He grabbed his bag, and headed out the door.

Benji and Ilsa were waiting outside in a normal, inconspicuous looking car. He took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and put on his tough face. He didn't want to cry in front of the team. He needed to be tough, and crying wouldn’t make him ‘The Hammer”.

“Hey Walker.” Benji said as he got in, and August gave him a smile.

“Where’s the mission?” He asked monotonously.

“Germany. We’re investigating a target who we believe is a part of The Amiens Family gang.”

At the mention of the gang, August almost choked on his own saliva. “D-did you say Amiens?”

Benji nodded, a confused look spreading on his features. “Yeah. Apparently they’re trying to find a civilian who escaped their custody once before thanks to the police, and according to the files Ethan and I recovered last week, this person has a lot of information, mainly about the financial aspect, and they are not happy in the slightest that this person escaped. One of the targets is in Germany following a lead of their own, so we’re following him.” He said.

August sighed and nodded, and was thankful that no one suspected him yet. He had to practically beg Sloane to keep Maeve off of his file, and he wasn’t ready for everyone to know about her quite yet. She was going through a lot, and the next few months were going to be tough on the both of them as they got to know each other, so the less people involved, the better.

Then, a thought popped into his head. “What’s this civilian’s name?” He asked.

Benji glanced down at the file before speaking. “Alexis Amiens. I think she was very high up in the family, but I couldn’t be sure.” August nodded, and tried to appear unbothered by this information on the outside while he had a freak out on the inside.

If he was remembering correctly, Alexis was the twin sister of Adriana. So, they were after someone who was out to get Maeve’s aunt. That scared the shit out of him. Not just the fact that they were going to be tailing someone who was either a close relation or close contact to the people who killed Adriana, and hurt his daughter, but the fact of who it was. It could have been a coincidence, just like Maeve’s screaming was, but just like the screaming, August didn’t think so.

Were they after Maeve? And if they were, what did they want from her? He desperately needed to fully read her file, but he couldn't very well pull it out in the middle of the car with Ilsa and Benji, who would question him about it, and then demand to know who Maeve and Adriana were. He agreed with himself that he’d wait until he was in Germany, and he’d find time to sit down and read it.

He’d read bits and pieces, but after what Anais had briefly told him about Adriana’s family, he never looked in the family section. Hell, he only barely glanced at it for her name and age before, so he should probably read up on it.

By the time they made it to Germany, August wanted to go home.

He missed Maeve, and his mom had called him and told him Maeve was having a meltdown because she heard police sirens, and it set her off. She calmed down, and was fine, but he wished he could be there for her.

The poor girl was probably so confused, August thought to himself. In the past month, her mom was killed in front of her, a gun was held to her head, she was saved by the police then handed over to CPS, dropped off at some random man (in her eyes) house, and just when she was feeling comfortable, that man had to leave, and she was being watched by another random person she’d never seen before.

But, as much as August wished that he could be with her 24/7, he knew that wasn’t a reality. He had to find a nanny to take care of her during the day, but how would find one that he trusted? He knew for a fact that there were probably people out there who wanted him dead. It was just a part of the job description. Before Maeve, he didn’t care too much.

He always told himself that everything happens for a reason. If he was killed on a mission, it was his time to die. Unfortunate and untimely but still, it was clearly the universe deciding his life was finished. But, now he had Maeve. He had a 7 month old to take care of. If he died, that meant leaving Maeve.

He knew it would happen one day, but he’d always hoped it would be from old age, not an enemy or stray bullet. He didn’t want that on her conscience. He didn't want the idea that ‘everyone I get close to dies’ in his daughters head because that wasn’t healthy.

No. He couldn’t die. Not until he heard her say Dada, not until she took her first steps, until she went to her first day of school (a thought that made him slightly teary eyed, despite being a good 3-4 years away). Not ever. He would not leave his daughter.

He’d lucked out and got his own hotel room. He had a feeling that it was because Ethan was still a little wary of him, as he was new, but he didn’t care. As soon as he was handed the key to the overpriced hotel room where the gala that they’d be attending the next night was being held, he was off towards the elevator, his duffel bag and briefcase in hand.

The second the door shut behind him, he pulled out the file, and sat down at the table that was located beside the big windows and balcony doors. He opened the file, and read through it thoroughly, making sure to not miss anything.

Name: Maeve Luna Walker

Age:  7 months old

Birthday: March 15th, 2020

He knew that. He kept reading.

Mothers name: Adriana Cora Amiens

Fathers name: August Nathaniel Walker

Godmothers name: Alexis Luna Amiens

He swallowed roughly. Alexis was not only his daughter's aunt, she was her godmother. And, Maeve was named after her.

Reason for removal from household: Mother’s death.

Next of kin: August Nathaniel Walker (father)

He was the only one listed, and that satisfied him. At least CPS knew better than to put her with her mothers side.

Description of conditions of the environment where the child was living:

August took a deep breath, before reading the paragraph.

Maeve was found by LAPD police officer (REDACTED) doing a wellness check called in by neighbour (REDACTED).

August rolled his eyes at the word redacted. He could get the information, but that would have to wait until he was back in Washington.

She was restrained to the bed using metal, police grade handcuffs. The diaper she was wearing had been soiled in more than once, indicating she had not been changed in several days. She was extremely hungry and dehydrated. The doctors at (REDACTED) hospital observed that if she had not been rescued when she was, she would have died within 24 hours from dehydration and starvation. There was no physical evidence of abuse on her, other than some light scarring on her wrists from the metal handcuffs. However, she is exhibiting signs of emotional trauma and will likely develop Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It is unclear at this time whether or not she witnessed the murder of her mother, Adriana Amiens, or not.

Addition: as of September 17th- it has been confirmed through viewing of security camera footage that Maeve was indeed present and conscious during the murder of her mother, Adriana Amiens.

He pushed the file away after reading that paragraph. His poor little girl. She almost died because of what happened, and although she wouldn’t have known what was happening, she most definitely recognized the feeling of being hungry, thirsty, and soiled beyond belief. August told himself his little girl would never experience hunger or thirst again if he had anything to do with it.

He took a deep breath to calm his anxiety that had blended into anger, before reading further, specifically on her mothers family’s history.

Adriana Cora Amiens, born August 5th, 1989, was the daughter of Amiens Family Mob leader Charles Jacob Amiens, nicknamed The Master, and his wife, Rose Alena Amiens (formerly Anderson). She was the twin of Alexis Luna Amiens.

Not much is known about her early life, or her education, other than she had a twin sister, an older brother named Andrew, and was privately schooled.

She had very few long term relationships. Her longest relationship has been noted as one of her fathers lackeys, Anton Filho. They began dating in 2000, and the relationship endured until 2005. Sources close to the family state that he was killed by Charles for ‘deflowering his daughter’.

Adriana reportedly emancipated herself due to the murder of Filho, and had zero contact with her father, and the rest of her family, including her twin sister Alexis because of it.

In 2019, she fell pregnant. Sources say that the father is unknown, while others believe it is Fritz Corleone, a former mobster she had been spotted with, however this was never confirmed or denied by either party. It is rumoured that she regained contact with Alexis, who emancipated herself from her family not long after Adriana did, although Adriana did not know this, but this has not been confirmed.

It is unknown whether she went through with the pregnancy and if she did, it is unknown of the child's whereabouts after the birth, and following Adriana’s death.

Adriana died on September 15th of this year. The cause of death has not been announced.

August rubbed his eyes roughly with his fingers. That was a lot of information to take in at once. He definitely thought she made the right choice by emancipating herself from her family after what her father did, but it didn’t go into detail about her father at all. His last hope for that lead was Wikipedia, which meant he’d have to cross reference all the information with the CIA database. He had planned to do so when he originally found out Adriana had been murdered, but he’d been so traumatized by the pictures he found of Maeve that he never looked at it again.

He pulled his laptop out of the briefcase, opened Google, and typed in Charles Amiens on one tab, before opening the CIA database on another. He typed the same thing in the database browser, before heading back to Google. He clicked on the wikipedia link and began reading.

In the files he read previously, there were no pictures of the family. In Charles page however, there was a man who looked just as you’d assume a mobster to look. The greasy slicked back hair, the scowl on his face, the curl in his eyebrow. August didn't dwell on the photo, but rather skipped down to the text on the bottom.

Charles Jacob Amiens was born on November 18th, 1967 to father Jacob Amiens and mother Elizabeth Amiens (formerly Jones), in Brooklyn, New York, New York, United States of America.

It is currently unknown where he obtained an education, both primary, secondary and post secondary.

August switched over to the database to check on the schooling. He confirmed that it is unknown where he obtained his schooling, but on the database, it says that it was a private schooling program named “The Family”. Something about that name was familiar, but he resolved to check on it later.

Amiens took over the head of the family mob the day he turned 18. Suspiciously, this was also the day that his father, Jacob Amiens, went missing and was not found until 2 months later, when his body was found in Prospect Park, although it was clear in the initial investigation that the murder did not occur there.

Now that sparked August’s interest. Did Charles really kill his father or was that just another one of the many coincidences that he’d come across in the last few weeks? Much like the other ones, he found it highly unlikely.

Charles has been associated with over 1500 murders in the upper California area, where he relocated his entire family and employees soon after his fathers body was recovered.

August checked this information as well, and it was also true. Just as he was about to go back to the wikipedia page, something caught his eye.

A notable pattern in the murders that Charles himself carries out is that he carves into his victims, specifically the initials MA, which most take to stand for Master Amiens, which is what he has his men call him.

August slammed his computer shut at that.

Adriana was murdered by her father. He thought back to the photos of the gun being pointed in Maeve’s face. Was Charles the one who inflicted all of this pain on his tiny 7 month old baby currently asleep in Washington under his mothers care?

August felt conflicted. On one hand, he wanted to murder Charles and all those who ever laid their eyes and hands on Adriana and Maeve, but on the other hand, he had a feeling that there was more to Adriana’s murder.

What kind of father would do that to their daughter? August knew he wasn’t the best person. He had a dark history, especially one with the Apostles, but ever since Lane revealed they were going to use Julia as a pawn in the game, he couldn’t do it, and he backed out. He’d changed. It doesn’t mean that he’s a perfect person, but he could never even think to do the things that Charles had done, much less to his daughter.

August glanced around the room, and his eyes landed on the warm and inviting looking bed, and decided to leave the research for tonight. Maeve was safe, and he had a mission to think about. He grabbed the file and lifted it up to put it in the briefcase, when a small envelope addressed to him fell out.

He put the file away, and bent down to grab the letter. He sat down on the bed and opened it.

‘August,

I’m writing you this letter in case anything happens to me.

After our night together, I fell pregnant, and gave birth to a little girl. Her name is Maeve Luna Walker. I made sure she got your last name, and that you were on the birth certificate. I never wanted her to grow up without a mom, but I think I’ve known since the minute I found out I was pregnant that she’d end up with you.

I’m loving being a mom. It’s the best job I could have, and I want you to know I’m not keeping her from you on purpose. We didn’t talk about our families that night, but I come from a rather dark one. I won’t go into details, but us having contact would ultimately result in your death. I don’t want that to happen. The CIA and the world needs you more than Maeve and I do right now.

If anything happens to me, please find who did it. There are people after me, but I don’t know who. I do, however, have a suspicion it has to do with my family. You’re a great man, and an excellent CIA agent. I know you’ll be able to do it.

When you find the woman of your dreams, I want her to adopt Maeve. It pains me to say that, but it’s the right thing to do. Maeve deserves to grow up in a happy and healthy household, a household that I know only you can provide. I need you to protect our daughter. She is the light of my life, and I know she’ll be the light of yours too. She’s a sweet little girl who is sweet and kind to everyone she comes across. She amazes me in the same way you did.

I’m so sorry if I’m gone when you’re reading this, but if I am, it was my time to go. I know we only had one night together, but I want you to know that I love you. I never stopped thinking about you, not for one minute. I love you so much. I will never stop loving you, especially for giving me Maeve, my light in my otherwise pitch black world.

I know you’ll be the best daddy to our little girl, and I’m sorry I won’t get to see her grow up. If she’s anything like her father, she’ll be the best.

I love you. Thank you. I’m sorry.

Adriana.

P.S. I wrote Maeve a letter as well. I was hoping you could give it to her when you feel it's the right time.’

August dropped the letter to the ground and let out a sob, his hands coming to cover his face. Adriana knew that she was going to die, and that there was nothing she could do. Even in that horrible, unthinkable and terrifying situation, she put Maeve first. She thought about Maeve’s safety and wellbeing, both physical and mental. She wanted their daughter to grow up happy and healthy, and wanted him to be happy too.

He felt awful. He’d thought about getting her number, but ultimately decided against it. His line of work didn’t exactly allow him time to have a relationship like that. Hell, it barely gave him enough time to parent, but he managed that. Maybe if he had just gotten her number, he could have saved her from all of this pain. He could have seen the moment that his child took her first breath. He could have seen her first words, the first time she crawled, all of it.

He picked up the letter and folded it up before placing it into his wallet for safe keeping. He picked up the file again. He grabbed the letter addressed to Maeve, and placed it in a different section of his briefcase. Once he was home he’d put in his safe until he was ready for her to have it. He thought about peeking at it, but ultimately decided against it. Adriana wrote that for Maeve, not him. When she read it, it would be up to her if she let him see the contents. He doubted he would let her read the one from him anyways.

Once everything was put away, August flopped on the bed, fully clothed still. It wasn’t long after his tears began to flow freely, and he thought about the mother of his child, who was never going to see her little girl again. He thought back to that night, and suddenly, he could remember every little detail. The colour of her hair, her eyes. The shape of her nose and lips. The way she embraced him with her arms, and touched him with her hands.

Just before he fell asleep, he grabbed his phone off the bedside table where he’d thrown in, and opened up Adriana’s instagram. He found a few selfies that she had posted around the time that they had met, and screenshotted them.

He found one that captured her beauty perfectly, and made that one his lock screen. His home screen was Maeve, the first night they were together, asleep on his chest. That way he had both his girls on his phone no matter where he went, even if one of them wasn’t actually his anymore.

August awoke to banging on his door the next morning.

He groaned, but stood up and answered the door. He was greeted by Ethan, with a stupid grin on his face.

“Rough night?” Hunt asked, and August nodded, stepping to the side and allowing him in.

“Need something?” He grunted out, and Ethan nodded.

“Benji asked me to check on you. He mentioned that you and him had spoken about the Amiens family when him and Ilsa picked you up, and you seemed a little on edge. I just want to make sure we’re both on the same team here.” Ethan said, a serious look on his face.

August always respected Ethan, despite them not always being friends. Ethan trusted his team, and if he had any doubts about anything, he always confronted them himself. He never let things play out. August could come up with a lie about why he was uncomfortable about it, but Ethan had a knack for smoking out liars, so he couldn’t do that. He didn’t want to risk anything.

“I’ve actually been investigating them on my own, is all. I-” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I have a connection to them.” He said simply, and he almost hoped that that would be enough to make Ethan leave it alone, although he knew it wasn’t.

Ethan sat on the chair next to the table that held his briefcase. August sighed and sat on the still unmade bed. “My daughter.”

Ethan sputtered slightly before speaking. “Y-You have a daughter?” he asked, and August nodded in response.

“I do. She was born in March of this year, but I didn’t find out about her until the beginning of this month. Her mother was a part of the Amiens family. Specifically, Adriana.” He admitted, and Ethan sighed.

“Wow. That changes things. Wasn’t she murdered recently?” Ethan inquired, and August nodded once more.

“Yes. In front of Maeve.” He said, and corrected himself when he saw the confusion on Ethan’s face. “Her name is Maeve. They handcuffed my 7 month old to a crib, and forced her to watch her mother be murdered by her grandfather. That’s a speculation though, I’m not 100% certain. He also pointed a gun at her head through the crib, and I assume they were going to shoot, but the police raided where they were being held at that moment.” August said, and Ethan sighed in sadness.

“That’s rough. How is she doing now?” Ethan asked, and August smiled at the thought of his little girl. “She goes through waves. One minute she’s a happy and healthy little girl whose only concern is what toy she’s going to play with next, and the next she’s almost frozen, and seems to be reliving what happened to her and her mother all over again. She can’t sleep in a crib, or a playpen. She hates police officers, guns, handcuffs, and the smell of peppermint. In some ways she’s a normal baby, but there are so many things she’s struggling through, that I’m worried about her development.”

Ethan nodded, and was about to open his mouth to speak, when August’s phone went off. August picked it up, and answered.

His heart dropped into his stomach at his mom's words. Maeve had woken up and realized that August wasn’t there, so she called out for her Mama. When August’s mom had said that her Dada would be back in a few days, she was immediately sent into a meltdown, and his mom couldn’t calm her down, even after half an hour.

“Fuck. Okay. Let me think of something and I’ll call you back.” He said, and his mom thanked him before hanging up.

He turned to Ethan. “How badly do you need me on this mission?” he asked, and Ethan furrowed his brow.

“Is something wrong with Maeve?” He asked and August nodded.

“She’s having a meltdown because I’m not there and my mom can’t calm her down.” Ethan’s eyes widened.

“We can make do without you. You can go home, you’re needed there more than here at the moment.” He said, standing up, and helping August to get packed. August nodded, and as soon as he was packed he turned to Ethan.

“Thank you. I know this mission is important.” He said, and Ethan smiled at him.

“Being a father trumps all of that. You have a little girl, a little girl who just went through hell, so don’t even worry about it. Go make sure she’s okay.” He said, and August nodded, a smile peeking through on his lips.

August dropped his bag as soon as he made it through the door, in favour of finding Maeve. The door shutting behind him seemed to alert his mom to his presence, and a few seconds later, she appeared in the doorway of his bedroom.

“Hi, honey.” She said, opening her arms for a hug. August let himself relax in his mothers embrace for a few moments before leading him into the bedroom.

“She managed to cry herself to sleep, and hasn’t woken up yet. I thought you being here when she woke up would be better than anything else.” She said, and August nodded.

“Thank you.” He said, sincerely, and his mom smiled. “It’s no problem. Other than her huge meltdown she was a perfect angel. I’ll get going, and let you two spend some time together. If you need anything at all, just give me a call, okay?” She reassured, and August thanked her again.

“I’m really glad you’re giving me a second chance, Auggie. I hate what I put you through after your father died. I hate the person I became. I thought I couldn’t be a single parent, but after seeing you do it, I don’t know why I ever thought that.” She said, a tear slipping down her face.

“Mom, it’s okay. I never hated you. I didn’t really understand why you were so cold and distant all of a sudden, but I get it. I wasn’t an easy kid, and I’m sure Dad dying didn’t help,” He joked, pulling a laugh out of his mom. “You were too much like him for your own good.” She said, and August smiled in agreement.

He watched as his mother gave Maeve a kiss on the head, before giving him one as well. “You’re doing a terrific job. I love you, son.” She said, and now it was August’s turn for a tear to fall.

“I love you too, mom.”

He walked his mom to the front door, and closed and locked it behind her once she left. He glanced at his watch, and decided to let Maeve sleep a little longer. Her poor little body was probably exhausted, just like his was from the quick time changes. He walked back into the bedroom, kicked off his shoes, and laid beside his daughter on the bed.

As soon as his head hit the pillow, Maeve’s eyes opened, and a huge smile broke out on her face when she saw her Dada. She cooed and placed her hand on his mouth again. August pressed a kiss to her flesh, and to August’s amazement, she smiled and giggled, instead of crying and asking for Adriana.

“Hello, my love. I missed you,” He whispered, as his daughter snuggled up to him, and closed her eyes again. August followed suit, and the pair were out within seconds.

It took a few days for Maeve to be back to herself fully. Everytime August would leave a room, she’d get anxious and cry, almost as if she thought he wouldn’t come back. August knew that it was his fault. He shouldn’t have taken the mission, she wasn’t ready to be left with random people yet, at least for days on end.

As he sat on the couch working on his laptop, Maeve playing with some cars while watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse at his feet, he realized he needed a nanny. He really didn’t like the fact that he’d been bringing her to work everyday. No one else cared, but he’d rather her first words she says with him not be ‘gun’ or ‘murder’.

He had gotten a few numbers from one of the other agents who was also a parent, but had yet to call any of them, so that’s what he worked on while Maeve was distracted.

A few hours later, and he’d been having terrible luck. Everyone he called either couldn’t do it because of another job, had another family, wasn’t nannying anymore, or was 16. He was beginning to give up hope, when he looked at the last name on his list.

Y/N Y/L/N - (xxx) xxx-xxxx

He tried not to be too hopeful going into the phone call, but when you said that you were available anytime, and were willing to meet with him the next day. He was very pleased to learn that you had worked with children in the past who had PTSD, and developmental disabilities. He knew you were the one already, and knew Maeve would be in the perfect hands with you.

He had religiously cleaned his apartment last night, making sure it was up to standard for a nanny. As he vacuumed Maeve’s playroom, he realized she needed more toys. She had a few, but definitely not enough to support her development. He also needed to get her more books.

Maeve seemed to know what was happening the next morning, because when August woke her up she was all smiles, rather than her grumpy and cuddly self, who cried over August accidentally dropping her favourite pacifier on the ground.

He got her changed and dressed, and put her in her playroom while he got showered and ready. It was a Saturday, and he knew that you wouldn’t be staying for more than an hour today, but he also wanted to appear professional in the beginning. You’d get to see the mess that he was after some missions later.

He immediately liked you. The meeting time was 10:30, and you showed up at 10:25. You had told him that you once worked a job where you had to be on the floor 5 minutes before your shift actually started, so you were in the habit of showing up 5 minutes early to everything.

Maeve instantly liked you as well. She’d crawled up to you, and gave you a hug, and then refused to leave your grasp once she was in it. You had brought her a stuffed elephant, and told her and August that you loved elephants and always gave them to new children you nannied.

He showed you around the apartment, and blushed when you commended him about the floor bed rather than forcing her to sleep in a crib. You also mentioned that it made you happy when parents cared less about fixing the PTSD and cared more about supporting their child and their needs at that point in time because the majority of parents you’d worked with used exposure therapy.

By the time that you’d left August’s apartment, he knew that he’d found a lifelong female presence for Maeve. He wasn’t blind, you were insanely beautiful, but he didn’t want to imply anything because if he was wrong, the only one who’d end up hurting was Maeve, and he didn’t like that.

August watched as Maeve crawled over to the couch, and climbed up. His heart melted when she pushed the curtain aside and waved a chubby hand as best as she could at you as you left the building.

August walked over and scooped her up. “Did you like Ms Y/N?” He asked, and took her excited babbles and hand gestures as a yes. August smiled, and set her down. She took off running (crawling) towards the playroom, adn August turned to make dinner.

As he cooked for the two of them, he thought back to what you had said about exposure therapy. It made him happy to know that he was doing what was considered the right thing, and not forcing her to sleep somewhere that was the cause of so much of her trauma. While he wasn’t thrilled he assembled it for nothing, he knew it wasn’t her fault. He could have fully read the file and skipped the crib when he was shopping, but at least he saved another mother some money and assembly time.

Later that night, as he sat with Maeve in her room as she drifted off to sleep, her hand curled around his pointer finger, he really hoped that this would work out.

Taglist:

All:

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@colicovision

Henry Cavill:

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[chickwiththepurpleguitar]

It is I, here to Officially Request™ absolutely chaos All Named Characters Molina Family Board Game Night because honestly? The chaos needs to be freed.

THERE'S SO MUCH CHAOS I'M NOT SORRY.

Have the official sequel to this fic because when @screamin-amuseum requested the first part as "the whole gang + boardgame" I took that to mean All Named Characters playing board games and so here's that continuation. It's so unnecessarily long. It's so unnecessarily angsty??? TW for mentions of Trevor with an eating disorder, nothing graphic though.

I don't know what else to say. This is really chaotic. I can't write scenes with more than two people in them and yet this fic has 13. Hope you all enjoy.

Read on ao3 here:

--

Unfortunately, the Molinas’ extensive board game collection does not actually include Pretty Pretty Princess (it was just a tad bit before Julie’s time).

But on the bright side, she knows someone they can borrow it from. Even if Luke’s not happy about it.

“Why’d you have to invite him?” he complains the second Julie gets off the phone with Nick.

“Because—” Julie barely spares Luke a glance as she passes him on the way to the living room. “We’re borrowing his little sister’s board game.”

“So? That doesn’t mean he has to play it with us!”

Julie rolls her eyes. “Luke, are you seriously still jealous of him?”

Luke lets out an indignant squawk. “I am not jealous . I just don’t like him!” He poofs out and back in again to cut Julie off in the doorway, and she stops out of instinct, never quite sure these days if she’ll end up walking through the boys or into them. “Julie, in case you’ve forgotten, we’re talking about a kid who was literally possessed by Caleb five minutes ago. And you want us to hang out with him? You want to bring him into your house? Where you live? To play Pretty Pretty Princess? ”

Julie gives him the most exasperated look she can muster, trying to ignore the smile threatening to tug at her lips. “Luke. First of all, Nick’s already been to my house, so that argument is invalid. Second, he’s not possessed by Caleb anymore, and the fact that he used to be is only more reason for us to offer him some extra friendship, I’m sure he needs it. And third, I already invited him, he’s on his way, and not even your pouting and puppy dog eyes can change that, so don’t even bother trying.”

Of course, Luke immediately breaks out the pout and the puppy dog eyes, but Julie doesn’t let herself so much as look at him. She pushes past him and continues through to the kitchen, shaking her head in amusement as Luke’s annoyed grumbling fades out behind her.

Her dad’s at the kitchen counter, just hanging up his own phone. He turns when Julie enters and offers her a small smile. “Takeout’s on its way. And your tía’s coming, with her own set of dice, so be prepared for those to be loaded.”

Julie giggles. “Well, I called Flynn and they’re gonna bring some sodas and snacks, and Nick’s bringing Pretty Pretty Princess since the boys were so excited to play it. It’s still cool that he comes, too, right?”

“Of course, mija.” Her dad looks at her for a second, and then away, busies himself with wiping down the perfectly-clean counter. “Did you, uh… Did you maybe want to invite Carrie to join us?”

Julie sighs. “Dad, you know me and Carrie aren’t friends anymore.”

“No, yeah, I know.” He scrubs harder at an invisible speck of dirt. “I just thought it might be a nice gesture.”

Despite everything, Julie finds herself considering it. Sure, she and Carrie are still decidedly not friends , but… they’re not quite enemies anymore, either. It’s hard to be enemies with someone who helped you save your shared ex-love interest from an evil jazz-singing magician ghost. Carrie knows about the guys now and didn’t expose Julie and the Phantoms as a fraud, and she hasn’t been as actively mean to Julie and Flynn at school the past few months.

Maybe someday, the three of them will be able to reconcile, officially. Julie might even want to. But that doesn’t mean she’s ready to have Carrie in her house so soon, doesn’t mean she wants to include Carrie in their first family game night without her mom.

“Maybe another time,” she says, offering her dad a soft smile so he knows she means it.

He smiles back, and there’s more relief and happiness in his eyes than Julie would’ve expected under the circumstances, leaving Julie to wonder why her dad would care about her relationship with Carrie Wilson so much.

An hour later, everything’s all set up, and all the guests—ghost and human alike—have arrived. They’re all spread out across the various couches and floor space in Julie’s living room, all ten of them—Julie, her dad, Carlos, Tía Victoria, Luke, Alex, Reggie, Willie, Flynn, and Nick. The four ghosts are all sharing one couch, the four Molinas another, while Flynn and Nick lounge on the floor across the room because the ghosts still make Nick a little uncomfortable (though Julie’s unsure if that’s because of his stint with Caleb or because Luke won’t stop glaring at him).

Knowing Game Night, the seating arrangements won’t stay as they are for long, as the various games require space or privacy or the occasional team-up. Julie’s certain by the end of the night, her friends and family will all be mingling and getting along.

Since there are so many of them, they can’t follow the usual Game Night rules—everyone picks one game and they play through them all. If they tried, they’d be here all night, and half of them have to go to school tomorrow. So instead, the plan is this: Everyone’s name will go in a hat. Whoever wins each game picks a name out of the hat, and that person gets to pick the next game. They’ll play a total of five, or until midnight, whichever comes first.

The only caveat to this strategy is that they’re playing Pretty Pretty Princess first, and since that was technically Alex’s choice, his name’s not going in the hat (a fact Alex seems perfectly fine with).

Game Number One isn’t nearly as much of a disaster as Julie kind of expected it to be. It’s only a four player game, so they play in teams of two and three: Luke, Reggie, and Julie playing for the purple jewelry; Alex, Willie, and Flynn playing for the pink; Nick and Carlos for green; and Dad and Tía for blue. The only fight that breaks out is when Luke takes the black ring on purpose and then refuses to put it back the next turn; otherwise, the teams work together surprisingly well.

Somehow, despite Reggie’s earlier insistence that Alex is a PPP master, the adults win, and then they insist on splitting their winning jewelry between them even though it’s all sized to fit five-year-olds.

Just as Dad and Tía are celebrating their victory, and Julie and Carlos are having a telepathic brother-sister conversation about how their aunt must have rigged it, the doorbell rings.

“Ooh, I bet that’s the pizza,” Dad says, hauling himself to his feet. He keeps one hand on the tiny plastic crown on his head so it doesn’t fall off.

He looks ridiculous, between the crown, the singular clip-on earring, and the ring just barely stuck on the end of his pinky finger, but Julie manages to hold back her laughter as she stands and says, “I’ll help carry.”

Her dad beats her to the door, only because Reggie holds her back and tries to convince her not to let Luke have any pizza (to which Luke gives another indignant squawk and immediately starts bickering), so by the time Julie catches up with him, Dad’s already got the front door thrown open, and whatever’s on the porch to greet him has left him staring, wide-eyed, open-mouthed, and pale.

Like he’s seen a ghost or something.

“Dad?” Julie starts to say, but the word dies in her throat as she steps into view of the open door and sees none other than Carrie Wilson standing on her front porch.

Carrie looks nervous, and just as pale, as she stares back at Julie’s father, a clutch purse held in her white-knuckled hands.

Carrie says something, quietly enough that Julie thinks she might have imagined it, that sounds suspiciously like, “Hi, Papi,” and then her gaze flits behind him to Julie and her eyes widen. She clears her throat, straightens her shoulders, says louder, “Mr. Molina. Julie.”

“Hi, Carrie,” Dad says after a weirdly long pause, startling like he’s been struck. “What are—I didn’t—” He breaks off and glances at Julie over his shoulder, his expression screaming, I thought you weren’t going to invite her!

I didn’t! Julie shoots back, then trains a painfully plastic smile on her definitely-not-a-friend-but-not-quite-an-enemy. “Carrie, what are you doing here?”

“Sorry to interrupt, I—didn’t realize you had company…” She glances toward the driveway next to the house, where Nick parked his car. “I can leave.”

“No, don’t—It’s okay,” Dad assures her, a little too quickly for Julie’s liking. “What’s—did you need something?”

Carrie shifts her weight awkwardly from foot to foot, looking back and forth between Julie and her dad like she wants to ask Julie to give them some privacy. Julie just plants her feet and crosses her arms over her chest. Like hell is she gonna leave Carrie alone with her dad when he’s already acting weird and she still has yet to tell them what she’s doing there.

Julie doesn’t even remember the last time Carrie Wilson stepped foot on the Molinas’ property. It’s all too weird, like Julie’s stepped out of Family Game Night and into some strange, confusing alternate universe.

“Um… Okay, so, Dad and I were at this dumb charity event at Schaefer’s, and on the way back, our car broke down.” Carrie waves a vague hand toward the street. “Gerald—our driver—called someone, but Dad doesn’t trust mechanics, and I think it’s supposed to storm later, so…” She trails off, blushes, and adds, “We were only a block or so away so I thought…”

Julie’s not sure she’s following. Her dad must catch up quicker because he says, “Oh! Oh, well—well, you’re welcome to wait out the storm here, we’ve got food coming, we’re having a little game night. Why don’t you join us?”

He turns to look at Julie, almost as an afterthought, his gaze somehow pleading and apologetic at the same time.

Whatever frustration Julie might feel at his eagerness to let Carrie interfere with their lives despite knowing how Julie feels about her is quickly snuffed out by the look on her dad’s face, and the equally anxious look on Carrie’s.

Julie doesn’t like this. She doesn’t think putting her, Flynn, Nick, and Carrie in a competitive setting together is a good idea. She really doesn’t think putting Luke, Alex, Reggie, and Trevor Wilson in a competitive setting together is a good idea. She can think of very few scenarios in which this whole night doesn’t turn into a complete and total disaster.

But reconciliation has to start somewhere, and she does, deep down, want to be Carrie’s friend again someday, wants even more to help her boys get their bandmate back.

She takes a slow, deep breath, prays she won’t regret this, and says, “Of course, Carrie. Come join us for Game Night.”

Carrie visibly relaxes, something like a real, genuine smile fluttering around her lips. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll, um—I’ll go get Dad. He wanted to wait in the car, in case you guys… turned us away…”

Awkward silence falls, and Julie can’t understand why her dad looks so sad all of a sudden, but before she can think of how to ask, Carrie spins on her high heels and starts back down the porch steps.

The second the door closes behind her, Dad says, “I’m sorry, did I overstep?”

Julie sighs. Her dad’s always been particularly good with boundaries. And she thinks part of him might miss the days when Carrie was over more often than not, playing dolls and singing with Julie and Flynn. So Julie can’t be mad. “No, it’s okay. But you get to tell the guys the pizza’s not here yet, and the guy who stole all their songs is.”

His eyes widen in horror, only adding to the absurdity of his bejeweled look, and Julie stifles another laugh as she heads back to the living room.

All things considered, it’s not nearly as much of a trainwreck as Julie thought it might be. Flynn loudly declares that she will not be on a team with Carrie under any circumstances, and the guys don’t take the Trevor news well , exactly, but a sharp look from Julie and a badly whispered promise from Willie to do some serious ghost pranking later keep them from actively pitching a fit about it.

When the Wilsons and their driver Gerald arrive, the tension in the room grows so instantly thick and awkward that Julie’s worried someone might actually explode. Carrie breaks it by stalking confidently into the room and plopping herself on the floor between Nick and Carlos like she belongs there. Gerald soon follows, claiming a chair next to Tía Victoria, and smiles politely at them all.

Only Trevor remains hovering in the doorway, pale and shaky, taking deep meditative breaths as his eyes rove across each person one at a time, lingering a little too long on Julie’s aunt, skipping over Luke entirely. Finally, he swallows, winces like it hurts, and says to Julie’s dad, “I didn’t realize you still did these.”

Julie frowns, unsure what that’s supposed to mean exactly, but her dad offers up no explanation, just waves Trevor over to sit on the couch with him. Luke lays a gentle hand on Julie’s knee, leans in close to whisper, “Hey. You okay?”

She gives him a grateful smile, nods. “Fine. How about you?”

Luke shrugs, glances over at Trevor, who’s still very purposefully not looking in their direction, and winks at Julie. “Let’s just cream this guy, shall we?”

And so, Game Night continues.

The three new guests’ names get added to the hat, and Victoria shuffles them around before pulling a slip of paper out.

“Carrie,” she reads. “You get to pick the next game.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Carrie tries. “I just got here, someone else can pick.”

“Come on, Care,” Nick says, nudging her encouragingly. “Them’s the rules.”

“Your name came out of the hat,” Julie agrees, attempting a smile. It’s the closest she can get to a peace offering. “Pick a game.”

Carrie scans her face a moment, like she’s searching for any hint that Julie’s being mean or ingenuine. She must not find any, because she says, “Okay,” and gets to her feet, brushing invisible dust off her skirt. She peers into the game cabinet for a total of about five seconds before she says, “Oh my god, you still have Monopoly with the credit card readers? We are definitely playing that.”

“Dibs on banker!” Carlos shouts and jumps to his feet to dig the box out of the cabinet.

Julie grins at her little brother’s enthusiasm, and when she catches Carrie’s eye, her smile doesn’t fade.

Maybe they can do this. It’s as good a first step toward reconciliation as any, she supposes.

The pizza arrives while Carrie and Carlos are setting up the Monopoly board, so Julie and her dad bring it in and set up the stack of boxes on the kitchen island for easy access. The ghosts immediately descend on the food like a pack of rabid animals, Luke grabbing four or five slices at once and starting to stuff them in his mouth before Julie shouts, “Plates, boys! Plates!” and he deflates, grinning bashfully at her.

Once everyone who wants pizza has gotten some (Gerald takes a slice, Trevor and Carrie don’t—Julie remembers vaguely that the Wilsons were never big fans of take-out in general), they work out new teams, which leads to less bloodshed than Julie expected but takes way longer than it has any right to. Finally, they figure out a breakdown that everyone’s more or less happy with, despite now having an uneven number of players: Trevor, Gerald, Dad, and Tía; Carlos, Luke, and Reggie; Alex, Willie, and Flynn; and Carrie, Nick, and Julie.

It’s a chaotic game for sure, but no one outright attacks each other, so Julie counts it as a success. And her team wins, so.

The rest of the night goes like that, one game after another. Julie picks Willie’s name, Willie picks Mario Kart, Carlos wins. Carlos picks Gerald’s name, Gerald picks poker (“Oh my god, my driver’s a gambler,” Trevor sighs into his hands), and somehow Flynn smokes them all. For the last game, Flynn picks Luke’s name, Luke picks Candy Land because he’s actually eight years old, and Flynn and Carrie manage to eke out a victory despite being on the same team and bickering the entire game.

Luke and Trevor, also on the same team, don’t say a single word to each other, but Julie doesn’t miss how a smile tugs at Luke’s lips when Trevor makes a joke about Lord Licorice looking like their high school English teacher.

Gerald gets a call just as they’re finishing up and informs them that the broken down limo’s been towed away and one of his colleagues is there with a fresh car to take the Wilsons home.

“Perfect timing,” Dad says, clapping his hands together. “I’ll walk you out.”

Once they’re gone, Nick and Flynn soon follow. Julie thanks Nick profusely for letting them borrow his sister’s game and convinces him to take some of the leftover pizza home to his family. Tía kisses them all goodnight (including the ghosts, which leaves Reggie grinning and the rest of them bright red), and then she’s out the door too, and Carlos heads up to bed, and Willie poofs out, telling Alex they’ll catch him later, leaving just Julie alone with her Phantoms.

“That was actually really fun,” she says, leaning back into the couch.

“Next time, I think we should choose teams at the beginning and stick with them all night,” Luke suggests, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “More fun that way.”

Alex plops onto the couch on Luke’s other side. “But if we play Pretty Pretty Princess again, I’m not playing on your team, bro.”

“Yeah, man,” Reggie agrees, snuggling up under Julie’s arm. “We coulda won that game if you’d just put the black ring away. ”

“It made me look awesome!” Luke insists.

“And the purple one didn’t?”

Alex lets out a dramatic sigh as Luke and Reggie break into an argument over Julie’s head. She just rolls her eyes and tries not to giggle too audibly, though it’s hard when her boys are so lovingly silly.

When she looks up, her dad’s lingering in the doorway, watching the four of them and playing a little nervously with his hands.

Julie frowns, catches his gaze, and mouths, You okay?

He nods, smiles, but looks from her to the three ghost boys cuddled up next to her and back again. Julie instantly catches his meaning.

“Hey, guys,” she says, loud enough to be heard over Luke and Reggie’s bickering. They shut up right away. “I’m gonna help my dad clean up. Can you go wait in the studio for me, and we can rehearse a bit before I go to bed?”

“Oh, yeah,” the boys say, and “Yeah, sure, Julie,” and they all hug her and wave goodnight to her dad before disappearing with a gentle displacement of air.

Julie gets to her feet as her dad joins her in the living room. He sets his phone on top of the game cabinet and plays a Celia Cruz album her mom liked.

They work in companionable silence for a while, other than the music, counting all the cards and tokens and jewelry pieces to make sure everything’s accounted for and gets back into its proper box.

As Julie’s wrapping up the Mario Kart controllers, her dad says casually, “You have fun tonight?”

“Yeah,” she says, and finds she means it. “Yeah, you know, it wasn’t quite the same as playing with Mom, but I still had a really good time. Thanks for letting everyone come over.”

“Thank you for being such a good sport about Carrie. I know she wasn’t exactly part of your plan for how the night would go.”

“No,” Julie agrees, shutting the game cabinet. “But I kinda liked having her here. Although—can I ask you something?”

Dad grabs his phone to pause the music. “Of course, mija. What is it?”

Something’s been nagging at her all evening, but now that Julie actually has the opportunity to ask about it, she’s not quite sure how to put her question into words.

Finally, she manages, “When Mr. Wilson first got here, he said something like… like he didn’t know we still had game nights. But I don’t remember him ever playing with us when Mom was alive.”

Her dad doesn’t answer for a really long time. Julie knows him well enough to know she needs not be concerned—her dad, much more than her mom, has always needed to really take his time and think before he says anything, especially anything important. Finally, he sighs and says, “Honestly, mija… I’m not quite sure what to say. It’s not really my story to tell.” He sits on one of the couches and pats the cushion next to him. Julie joins him, hugging a throw pillow as she waits patiently for him to continue.

“Do you remember, when you were really little, Trevor and Carrie used to live with us?”

Julie’s mouth drops open. “What? No. When?”

“Only until you were about six,” Dad explains. “But for a while, we had a house together, the five and then six of us, once Carlos was born. Your mom and I, and Trevor, we all kind of raised you kids together.” He elbows her teasingly. “You used to call Trevor Daddy.”

“I definitely don’t remember that,” Julie says, eyes wide in horror.

His smile fades, face turning serious. “I think Carrie does,” he says softly, and Julie remembers when Carrie first got here tonight, how she called Julie’s dad Papi , so quietly Julie thought she’d imagined it.

“Anyway,” he continues, “before all that, before Trevor was even… Trevor … he lived with your mom and me, and he was going through a really rough time, had a lot of trouble with food because, well…”

“Because food killed his best friends…” Julie realizes.

“We used to play board games with him, after dinner, when things were hard. It kept him distracted, made it easier to keep things down. That was the real start of Molina Family Game Night.”

“Huh,” Julie breathes. “Well then, next time? I want to invite him and Carrie for real.”

--

Taglist: @whenweremarried @sunsethimb0s @pink-flame @penguin0613 @fighttoshine @sunsetcurvecuddles @apples-bees @reggiescrookedteeth @brightattheorpheum @queenmolina @jandthephantoms @lexilucacia @sapphossidechick @acnhaddict @shrimp-colours @sunset-bobby @lenacarstairspotterstewart @conversationaltreestump @burntchromas @shellydominique

[shinazugawaswife]

Love your work❤️❤️ I’m not sure if you write for Rafe but I you do, how about number 79 with him?✌🏼

To the beach - Rafe Cameron

I know you requested this such a long time ago and I'm sorry that I never got to it, but I haven't been on this app for so long and I just recently rewatched the show and wanted to write this<3

Prompt 79: "We'd make such a badass couple"

Prompts

Summary: you convince Rafe to go to the beach with you while you’re both as high as you can be

Warnings: drugs, swearing, violence (just a little fight were sexy Rafe kicks ass), a little sexual but nothing dangerous;)

Not my gif, creds to the owner

You had always been close with Sarah, ever since you'd met on the playground when you were both five. That meant you'd been to dinner at her house a hundred times and slept over at least a thousand times. Sarah was your best friend and the two of you were rarely seen without the other. 

It wasn't until about a year ago that you'd started noticing Rafe Cameron, Sarah's older brother. He'd always been around and he loved to make fun but you'd never seen him as anything more than Sarah's annoying brother. Last summer though, you'd suddenly realized how good-looking he actually was. It had been like a wake-up call for you. One day he was the same he'd always been, and the next he'd walked out to the pool where you and Sarah had been tanning, sending a wink your way, as he often did because he was a tease, and then jumped into the water, looking extremely good. You remembered the way he'd pushed his wet hair aside once he'd reached the surface again, and the way his muscles had tensed when he'd pulled himself out of the pool.

Since then you'd been aware every time Rafe had entered a room and somehow the smirk and winks that couldn't get to you before, now made your knees weak. You hadn't told anyone about this newfound discovery of yours though and it was a secret you intended to keep. It wasn't like you wanted to go anywhere with Rafe, he was your best friend's brother, but you couldn't help sneaking a peak of him from afar from time to time. 

Currently, you were in Sarah's room, getting ready for a party. It was a party Topper, Sarah's annoying and overly protective boyfriend, had gotten you and Sarah invited to. You knew a lot of the people who were coming you just didn't know the guy throwing the party. His name was Toby if you remembered correctly, and apparently his parents were out of town for the weekend.

When you arrived at the party, Sarah quickly disappeared somewhere with Topper. He was probably showing her all the things he didn't want her to drink or touch or do. You rolled your eyes at the thought. Sarah knew you weren't Topper's biggest fan, but you never voiced your opinion of him.

You wandered around by yourself for a while until you found a group of people that you knew. You sat with them for a while, laughing and drinking more than you should, until you were pretty wasted. You must've sat there for about an hour when Rafe came and sat down beside you. You weren't surprised to see him, Rafe had always been where the party was. 

The sofa you were sitting on was small, so Rafe and you were close once he'd squeezed down in between you and a girl named Carla. Carla was beautiful in such an annoying way. She was the kind of beautiful that made her get all the attention and she never even tried hiding how much she enjoyed it. She knew she was gorgeous and she would always use it to make a big drama. And even though she scooted closer to Rafe the minute he sat down, carefully tracing a finger down his arm while she spoke with a flirtatious tone "hi Rafe", his attention was solely on you. 

"Wanna try this?" Rafe asked you as he pulled out a bag of pills from his pocket. You'd taken drugs before, but never with Rafe, and though you knew it was a bad idea and Sarah would kill you, how could you say no?

You starred into Rafe's eyes as you sank a pill. He smirked as he took one as well, before smoothly draping his arm around your shoulders, leaning back on the couch. "Get out of here" Rafe demanded Carla, who'd been looking at you and Rafe with surprised eyes during your whole interaction. She huffed and made a dramatic swing of her hair before walking off towards the kitchen.

You smiled, no one dared stand up to Rafe Cameron. You had no idea why he was there with you, you figured he had lots of other people to do drugs with, but you didn't mind. You casually leaned into him, trying not to make it look like it was intentional, and waited for the room to start spinning.

It surprised you how fast the pill worked. Soon your body relaxed the way it only did when you smoked weed, but it was different from that still. It was like your limbs weighed a hundred pounds, but you still had all the energy in the world. You had a hard time describing the feeling, all you knew was that you liked it.

"I'm gonna go for a swim" you announced after you'd gotten used to the way your brain worked while under the effect of the drug. You rose from the sofa and almost fell to the floor, but Rafe caught you. "Thanks" your words came out blurry as you took Rafe's hand and led him towards the exit. Once you passed the kitchen and kept heading for the front door, Rafe pulled your arm back. "Pool's this way" he pointed to his right. You laughed at him as if he'd said the dumbest thing in the world.

"I don't wanna go in the pool, I wanna go in the ocean" you deadpanned as if it was obvious. "And how will you get to the beach?" Rafe laughed while slowly pulling you closer to him. "You have a bike don't you?" You raised your brows whiled tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. You looked at his lips, lingering them there for a moment before you looked back into his eyes. God, he was so hot.

When he didn't protest, you turned around and started walking again. You immediately spotted Rafe's bike once you were outside, and you ran towards it, excitingly placing yourself on it once you reached it. 

"I'm a bit too drunk to drive," Rafe smiled as he reached the bike as well. "It's never stopped you before, come on" you insisted.

It didn't take long for you to convince Rafe to take the two of you to the beach. After all, he wasn't the most responsible person on the island, so after a promise that oh yeah, you'd most definitely be skinny dipping, Rafe was all for it. 

Your hands were snaked around Rafe's waist as the wind was blowing through your hair. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of being close to Rafe while driving through the night. The moment was ruined though when you felt your phone buzzing in the back pocket of your pants. You released your grip from around Rafe and pulled out your phone, it was Sarah calling. Instead of answering though, you went to the camera on your phone and took a couple of pictures. Your brain was pretty clouded though, so you chose to listen to the only current reasonable part of your mind, and put your phone back in your pocket before you dropped it.

It didn't take long for you to get to the beach, probably having something to do with Rafe driving way over the speed limit, but life was too good for you to care at the moment. Rafe stopped the engine of his dirtbike and you laughed, kissing his neck once from behind, before jumping off the bike and running towards the water.

Rafe had to take a minute, he was more used to the drugs, so it took a bit longer for him to get affected by them. He was just thanking God or the universe, or whoever the fuck was in charge, that he'd managed to drive here with a somewhat clear mind. The drugs slowly crept in on him now though and when he spotted you laying in the sand, laughing, some ten meters in front of him. There were absolutely no cons for him to go join you.

When you were laying in the sand with your eyes closed, you swore it felt like flying and you couldn't stop laughing. You questioned if you'd ever experienced anything as extraordinary. While Rafe was locking his bike, two guys approached you, drunk and curious as to what you were doing. You didn't notice them until they stood right above you, looking down at you. You opened your eyes and raised yourself in a hurry but your forehead collapsed with one of the guys' noses and you fell down again. You couldn't help but laugh, not even feeling the pain.

"What the fuck! I think she broke my nose" the guy called out. "Dude, chill, I barely bruised it" your laughter had died down to giggles as you rose from the ground. "Shut up! It fucking hurts" the guy raised his voice slightly, but you kept laughing. "I'm sorry, really, it wasn't even on purpose" you blinked repeatedly, trying to see straight. 

"Hey! Who the fuck are you?" Rafe roared as he approached you, having finally noticed the guys. "Your girl almost broke my nose dude, fucking bitch" the guy yelled out. It was like Rafe had a switch that went from decent to aggressively angry in a matter of seconds, and he lunched at the guy. His fist landed right in the center of the guy's face, so hard you were able to hear the bones crushing. His nose was definitely broken now. The guy stumbled backward and his friend, who'd been quiet until now, immediately jumped forward, but Rafe grabbed his fist in the air and hit him in the stomach. The guy hunched forward in a cry of pain.

Both guys soon regained strength and though their punches were sloppy due to the obvious intake of alcohol, they managed to get a few good hits at Rafe seeing he wasn't really in his best state either. Everything happened so quickly you barely got to react before Rafe was in a boxing match with two strangers. They hadn't even done anything, why did Rafe freak out?

You didn't wonder for long before you ran to Rafe's side and kicked one of the strangers in the balls, making him instantly fall to the ground. Rafe hit the other right across the jaw and the strength of the punch made him fall to the soft sand as well. Both guys laid whimpering on the ground and Rafe pointed a demanding finger at them, "do not call her a bitch, you fucking losers" he roared before he grabbed your hand and walked in the opposite direction.

Once you were a couple of meters away his demeanor completely changed again, as he looked back at the guys and started laughing. "We'd make such a badass couple" he announced as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders for the second time that night, and pulled you close.

You couldn't help but smile, did he really just say that? 

Your brain didn't get a lot of time to overthink what Rafe had just said though before you looked at the ocean and remembered why you were even here in the first place. You smiled like a little girl who'd just gotten a candyfloss and ran towards the ocean. You threw off your shirt while running and stepped out of your pants as you reached the water, wasting n getting in.

You were only in your underwear, but it wasn't nearly as cold as you'd feared. You dived under, getting your hair and face wet, and when you resurfaced two things happened. One, your brain immediately cleared up from the fresh sensation of water in your face, and two, Rafe was standing right in front of you.

You giggled, "wasn't it worth it? Driving all the way? A pool can't compare to this."

Rafe didn't answer, he just looked at you. He was determined to kiss you. He barely registered what you were saying, because all he could think about was kissing you. So he did just that.

Taking you by surprise, he walked forward, grabbed your face, and smashed his lips onto yours. It didn't take you many seconds to realize what was happening and you snaked your arms around his neck, eagerly pulling him closer.

What was even happening? Why would he even want to kiss you, you were younger than him and Sarah was your best friend.

In the back of your mind, you knew this was only for one night and that Rafe was the fuckboy of them all and you were probably just a fun challenge for him, his sister's best friend. But you didn't mind, you were just gonna make tonight last as long as possible and you knew you'd have no regrets in the morning.

The water stopped at your waist, which meant it reached Rafe just to the top of his hips. His hands moved from your face, down your waist, and down to your butt, giving it a squeeze. You gasped and he smoothly sneaked his tongue into your mouth. He grabbed your thighs and lifted you. Your legs wrapped around his waist and the kiss turned rough and heated. His hands stayed on your thighs, holding you up, while his thumbs traced small circles on your skin.

Truth was, Rafe had wanted to kiss you for a while. He had always thought you looked good, but recently his eyes had opened to how good-looking you actually were. God, you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. 

There was no sound other than the gentle waves and the sound of your mouths moving against each other. Rafe pulled your legs tighter around him and your hands moved to his hair, pulling slightly. You both let out a moan, swallowing each other's sound. You couldn't get enough, it was like you needed more, faster. 

There was no way you were having sex with Sarah's brother though. She was never gonna find out about this, but if she did, she would might be able to get over a kiss, but she'd never forgive you or Rafe if you slept together.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, Rafe let go of you and you separated yourself from him. You couldn't help but smile.

You looked up at Rafe who was smiling down at you, moving his hand to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. You tilted your head, certain that this came close to the best night of your life. You broke the silence after a couple of minutes.

"Hi Rafe" you mimicked Carla's high-pitched voice from earlier and you both started laughing. Rafe shook his head, a smile still playing on his lips as he leaned down and kissed you once before grabbing your hand and you walked back towards the shore.

[forzalando]

Lessons | George Weasley | Pt. 1

Pairing: George Weasley x F!Reader AU: Royalty!AU Word Count: 2,240 words Warnings: mentions of sibling d*ath, a very rude knight grabbing the reader, mentions of bruising on reader, reader sl*pping aforementioned knight, aggressive language and behavior

A/N: hello friends! here is part one of a two-part George Weasley Royalty!AU! I am so very excited. I apologize in advance for any inconsistencies throughout the story, there isn’t really a specific time period except that I didn’t want it to be modern! thank you to @awfulmoons for being the first person to read this and for her support! part two will be posted tomorrow! :) 

Summary: After the tragic loss of his twin brother, George Weasley finds himself using his talents to secure a job as the new Potions Master and Healer for the Royal Family. Unbeknownst to you, he takes a particular liking to you knowing that you have more in common than you realize.

part two here

***

Your mother playfully glared at you as you giggled, watching one of your father’s knights trip over a bit of wire and slam into the wall outside her study. He was a rather crude man, always touching your arm or lower back when he walked past you in the castle, and seeing his dazed expression and the bruise forming on his cheek brought you far more enjoyment than you’d ever admit.

“Sir Cormac, are you alright?” Ana, your younger sister, asked as she fled to his aid. She never minded his lingering touches and had always envied that you received his “affections” as well, even though you hardly wanted them.

“Yes, yes, quite alright, Your Highness. Just lost my balance is all,” Cormac grumbled as his eyes lingered on the wire. He didn’t want to be seen as foolish enough to be bested by a simple prank, but unfortunately the evidence was far from discreet.

“Come, I’ll take you to the infirmary. I’m sure there’s something we can do about that bruise.”

You watched with disgust as your sister practically carried Sir Cormac down the hall, until the clearing of a throat broke your attention.

“Y/N, did you lay that wire?” your mother asked, the accusatory tone evident in her voice.

“No, Mother, but frankly I wish I had. Do you see the way he’s always caressing my arms?! He’s even dared to touch my back and he does it to Ana as well! Of course, she doesn’t mind, though it truly escapes me why she doesn’t. He’s horrendous.”

Your mother stifled a laugh; even though she was the Queen, you knew your mischievous and independent ways had come from her.

“Next time he tries to touch you, tell him that your Mother will have his hands,” she spoke with a smile. “I have business to attend to in the dining room, please try to stay out of trouble for once.”

She turned on her heel and left you on your own, but you knew her warning was playful. When the sound of her footsteps receded, your mind and feet began to wander. Your thoughts were consumed with all of the small, mostly harmless, pranks that had been occurring around the castle.

Just the other day, your handmaiden and close friend Luna had witnessed one of your tutors walk out of the kitchen sopping wet. She asked around and found out that a bucket of water had fallen on her head that morning seemingly out of thin air.

You wished that you would have felt sympathy for her, but she had scolded you until you cried last week because you couldn’t remember the first name of a Prince that you would never meet.

A little over a month ago you noticed that Lady Priscilla, a dreadful, awful young woman from a noble family in your Father’s Court, was itching constantly at her corset. You recalled receiving an actual stern glare from your mother for laughing at that one.

But, the little things you noticed weren’t always directed at people. Occasionally you’d find furniture askew, flower arrangements and paintings altered, sticky substances on the railings (you had gotten caught up in that a time or two). You recalled finding every piece of furniture in the Great Dining Hall practically glued to the floor once and thought your parents were going to have coronaries, but to your surprise, they laughed alongside you.

Your father had suspected you at first, of course, but when the pranks continued while you were away last month visiting your best childhood friend, Lady Hermione Granger, it was obvious you were not the culprit. No one could recall when the odd occurrences started happening, so it just became a way of life around the castle. Not that anyone minded, you’d even seen your grumpy sister crack a smile or two at the jests.

Sometimes you wished you knew who it was, that you could dismantle the mystery, partly because you wanted them to include you in their havoc. However, a far greater reason, was that over the past few months, you had found yourself smiling and laughing again after the untimely death of your elder sister, Clara, during the Great War. Whoever this mystery prankster was, you owed them a thank you about a million times over.

Fearing that you’d smack straight into a wall while your mind was reeling over the castle’s secret joker, you shook the thoughts from your head and found yourself walking towards the gardens.

As you began opening the door to the greenhouse, it suddenly flung open to reveal a rather tall and beautiful man with hair the color of a roaring fire.

“Pardon me, Princess,” he apologized immediately. “I was all too focused on not dropping these herbs and didn’t realize the door was opening.”

You realized then that you had stumbled into Mr. George Weasley, the Potions Master and Healer that your Father had employed months ago. He was supposedly brilliant; had a way with creating concoctions that even the brightest minds had never thought of. When your Mother fell ill earlier this year, George had her right as rain within days.

You also recalled from palace gossip that he used to run a business with his twin brother a few years ago, but his brother had died in the Great War and George refused to carry on the business without him.

“It’s quite alright, Mr. Weasley. Do you need some help carrying your things?”

“I-I-You know my name?” He stuttered quietly.  

“Of course I do,” you chuckled. “My Father speaks very highly of you, especially after the way you took such great care of my Mother. Thank you for that, by the way. I tried to find you to thank you in person before, but it seems we always miss each other.”

“Yes, it seems we do, and please, call me George,” he trailed off lightly, a twinkle in his deep, brown eyes.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you; you could have been gazing into each other’s eyes for hours, you couldn’t be sure, but the trance was broken when the hoard of plants fell from his arms.

“Here, please let me help,” you said as you bent down to the ground, gathering the discarded herbs.

“If your Mother or Father catches you helping the insignificant Potions Master – ”

“They would be thrilled that they had raised a kind and helpful daughter. Isn’t that what you were going to say?”

George smiled down at you, a blinding smile that reached his eyes and made the corners crinkle.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I was going to say.”

The two of you headed off towards the East Wing of the castle where his living and work chambers were located. Once you had helped him sort out the herbs and tidy up any fallen leaves or stems, you sat down and sighed, admiring his workspace.

“I’ve always been fascinated by potion making and medicine,” you said quietly. “I wish it were part of my studies. I learned a little bit during the War to help with the wounded but nothing more in the past few years. Now that I’m older, my lessons, if you can even call them that, only consist of recalling Monarchial history and information about other kingdoms.”

You noticed George stiffen at the mention of the Great War, his cheerful demeanor suddenly disappearing from sight, but as quickly as it was gone it was back again.

“The War is what got me into all this in the first place. I figured I’d use my talents to help people if I could, and it turns out I’m pretty good at it.”

He managed a weak smile, and the sight of it broke your heart.

“I’m sorry about your brother, George. I-I heard about him in passing, some Noblewomen were discussing your tragedy like it was front page news since they never have anything better to do. I suppose I’m no better for listening, even if it wasn’t entirely on purpose, but I’m still so sorry.”

“I appreciate that, Princess. I will always miss him but in the past year I feel like I’ve finally started moving forward with my life instead of standing still.”

You fiddled with the hem of your sleeve, embarrassed that you had brought up such a sensitive topic upon your first time meeting George, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted him to know you were sorry, and that you understood his pain.

“I’m sorry too,” he murmured. “You lost someone as well, didn’t you?”

“My sister, Clara. She was always rebellious, even worse than me, and she was in love with a man from the village just outside the palace grounds. His name was Thomas and they were just perfect for each other. When my Father got word that Riddle’s Army was headed towards the castle, she snuck away through one of the secret passages to the village to save him, but Riddle’s Army was already there and she died with him when they destroyed the village.”

George couldn’t say anything, the tragic story rendering him speechless. Your sister’s bravery and your obvious heartache, he didn’t know what to say, but you began speaking again.

“We probably have a lot more in common than you think, Mr. Weasley,” you teased, although he didn’t miss the glimmer of tears in your eyes.

“I’d love to find out what more, Princess, and I told you to call me George.”

“I’ll call you George only if you promise to call me Y/N.”

“Your Father would have my – ”

“He would have your utmost support because I asked you to call me by my name and it’s never polite to refuse to request of a Royal, right, George?”

“Absolutely, Princ…I mean, Y/N,” George said with a smile.

You decided instantly that your name had never sounded better.

Once again, a comfortable silence fell between you two as you rose from your seat and traced your fingertips along his equipment. Cauldrons, beakers, books with the directions to make the most difficult of healing draughts, when suddenly you had an idea.

“George,” you began, turning to face him, “what would you say to a little extra work?”

“Well, that depends. Is it difficult?”

“Well, that depends. Do you find me difficult to spend time with?”

“Not in the slightest,” he answered immediately with a smile.

“In that case, how would you like to teach me your ways? I want to learn all that there is to know about potion making, herbs, plants, medicines. And who better to teach me than you?”

“If…I mean if the King and Queen do not mind, I have no objections,” George spoke, failing to stop the hopeful grin that appeared on his face.

“I’m sure they won’t but I will speak to them this evening. Shall I come find you tomorrow? Will you be here?”

“In the morning, yes. Let’s meet here at, say, nine o’clock?”

“That sounds perfect,” you said eagerly. “I’d better get back, I’m sure someone’s wondering where I’ve been, but I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow!”

With a quick wave goodbye, you swiftly made your way out of George’s workshop before he could tell that you were practically trembling with excitement.

Unbeknownst to you, George had to steady himself against a table so he wouldn’t faint at the prospect of seeing you not only again, but so soon.

Your hurried steps had brought you back to your Mother’s study and you were delighted to see she had returned from her earlier meeting.

“Mother, what would you say if I began taking lessons from Mr. Weasley?”

“Well,” your Mother began as she closed her book, “I’d be curious to know how this proposition came about.”

“I bumped into him in the gardens earlier. He’s brilliant, Mother, and you know how interested I am in his specialties.”

“Are you interested in his specialties or him?” She asked with a sly smile.

“I…I suppose maybe both?”

Your Mother stared at you for what seemed like ages, taking in the sparkle in your eyes and the giddy smile on your face that had been absent since the passing of your closest sister.

“As long as you’re able to attend to your duties and join Father in court meetings, I don’t see why not. You need something substantial to fill your time anyway, I swear you’re either always in the garden or sneaking tarts from the kitchen.”

“Thank you, Mother,” you exhaled, not even realizing you had been holding your breath awaiting her response.

“Go find your brothers, supper should be ready soon. I’ll speak to your Father about these lessons and let you know what he decides.”

You nodded your head and went off in search of your younger siblings wondering what color dress you would wear tomorrow.

Elsewhere in the castle, George Weasley was in front of a mirror fiddling with his hair and already planning what he would say to you when he saw you in the morning.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed another trip wire safely tucked away near the Knight’s living quarters.

For once, you didn’t stick around to wait for the inevitable chaos because the quicker you found your brothers and ushered them to supper, the quicker your day would end, and the quicker you would again be able to see Mr. George Weasley.

***

taglist: @thoseofgreatambition @theboywhocriedlupin @theseuscmander @fortisfiliae @carolinesbookworld @starssayhello @finnofamerica @swellwriting @themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy @marauderskeeper @wildfire-whizbangs @woakiees also tagging some mutuals who maybe might want to read! if you do not, PLEASE let me know and I apologize profusely!: @ickle-ronniekins @hollands-weasley @weasleytwinswheezes @theweasleysredhair @sleep-i-ness 

[myhockeyworld87]

Ruined - Jamie Benn - Part 2

Word Count: 5,716

POV: Jamie

Warnings: Language, Smut, NSFW, talks about losing virginity

Notes: Here is the next part right away. Hope you guys enjoy this. Happy Reading!!!

Ruined Masterlist

Throwing on some shorts and a t-shirt, you headed down to the kitchen to whip up a quick protein shake before Tyler got there for your morning workout. With the season just around the corner, you’d pushed training into high gear, Tyler coming to your place every morning before you’d head off and workout with your trainer. In just a few short weeks training camp would be in full swing and you wanted to be in your best shape to make a run for the cup. But the Stanley Cup wasn’t on your mind as you turned the blender on, the grinding sound echoing through the empty house. Empty was the keyword there. You were tired of being alone, tired of going out to the clubs, ending the night with some mindless hookup. Maybe it was the fact that Jordie had finally popped the question to his long-time girlfriend Jess and the two seemed blissfully happy, that was making you want to settle down, or maybe it was seeing your sister with her little girl and longing for a family of your own. Whatever it was, you wished that you could just meet the perfect woman and fall madly in love. 

 The problem was you were too picky. They were either too tall or too blonde or maybe it was not blonde enough, then there were the ones that didn’t talk or were too chatty. You seemed to find something wrong with each and every woman you dated. Hell, your longest relationship only lasted six months and you’d only kept her around that long for appearance sake. You wanted a meaningful relationship with the girl of your dreams. It didn’t seem like much to ask for.

 “Hey, I see you're getting new neighbors.” Tyler’s voice brought you out of your musings and you glanced at him as he walked into your kitchen. “Well not neighbors exactly, since it’s like two houses up, but the woman who’s moving in is hot as hell.”

 “Do you mean in Doc Lundin’s place?” Dr. Lundin had been the team doctor for the Stars for the last several years and had finally decided to retire. You’d heard his practice had been looking at a young and upcoming doctor to take his place but didn’t know that they’d hired anyone. 

 “Yep,” Tyler finally answered. “Must be the new doctor’s hot wife. It’s a shame she’s married because, DAMN!” He gave a low whistle of approval. “I’m telling you, I’d be all over that.”

 “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

 “We’re in an open relationship.” All you could do was roll your eyes, for all Tyler’s relationships were open, at least on his end. “But hey, if you wanted a crack at her, I’d give you first dibs, since it’s been a while.”

 “Gee thanks,” your sarcasm was not lost on your best friend.

 “I’m just saying it’s been a bit since you’ve gone out with anyone.” This you already knew and were just contemplating moments ago. “Maybe we should go for a run while she’s still out directing the movers.”

 “Why don’t we leave the new doc’s wife in peace at least for a day or so.”

 “You’re no fun.” Tyler downed half your drink but luckily, you’d made enough for another glass, before you headed out to your pool house that had now been turned into a gym. The two of you spent the morning and afternoon training before Tyler headed back to his house.

 It was just after dinner when you decided to go for a run, now that the sun was setting and the Dallas heat wouldn’t make your shoes melt to the pavement. You thought you’d head up to see Jordie and Jess, who only lived about six blocks away. It would be a short little run, but still, a way to get some exercise in. As you stepped out of your house, it was still a bit steamy, so you tossed your shirt off, and flipped your cap backward before heading up the street. The moving truck seemed to be gone, so you guess whoever it was that captured Tyler’s attention was busy inside unpacking. You were so absorbed in checking out the house you didn’t realize that someone was coming around the corner at you until your bodies collided. Your hands immediately went to her hips to steady her. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t watching…” you started to say while she was apologizing to you at the same time. It wasn’t until you looked at her face that recognition hit, then all words died on the tip of your tongue. “(Y/N), is that you?” She didn’t need to answer for you to know that it was her. This was your (Y/N), the first girl you ever kissed, the first girl you ever slept with, and the only girl you ever loved. Though you’d ruined all that. Standing there, you took in all of her features and you were reminded of how much you’d loved her back then. How much that first and only time with her had meant to you. 

 You’d been so nervous driving all the way to Vancouver with (Y/N), but she was more nervous. So, you took her hand and held it the whole way, occasionally dropping kisses here and there. The foot that wasn’t driving, bounced uncontrollably up and down with anticipation of the night to come. You were pretty sure you were wearing a hole in the flooring of the car. It had to be the longest car ride you’d ever had. “Did you maybe want to get something to eat before we head to the house?” You asked (Y/N) hoping to break some of the silence that was filled only by the stereo in the car. 

 “Yeah, we could do that.” She glanced over at you and gave you a weak smile.

 “(Y/N), we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” You totally meant the words you’d just spoken, for you in no way wanted her to feel pressured about having sex with you. This should be something you both wanted.

 “No, I want to. Don’t you?” Her voice picked up a little bit, the sound more reassuring than the smile she gave only moments ago.

 “I want to, too.” God, you sounded like an idiot. “I went to the pharmacy and got protection, so you don’t have to worry.”

 “Oh, you didn’t have to.” This time it was your turn to look over at her, trying to see if you misunderstood her statement before scanning the road again. “I’m on the pill, have been for a while.” She said by way of explanation. “My mom thought it would be best, once she found out I was actually dating someone, but we can use the condoms too if you want.”

 “I mean…uh…” were you really having a conversation about birth control methods? You supposed it was the adult thing to do. “If you think we should, we can.”

 (Y/N) turned in the seat to fully look at you then. “Ok, so this will probably sound stupid.” Your head bobbed back and forth between the road and the girl you were in love with.

 “(Y/N), nothing you say is stupid. You’re the smartest person I know.”

 She leaned over and kissed your cheek. “Thanks,” she took a deep breath. “Anyhow, I kind of don’t want to use a condom if we don’t have to, at least this time.” You weren’t quite following her thinking so you remained silent for her to explain. “Like, it’s both our first times, so there’s not a chance of us getting a sexually transmitted disease or anything. We just really have to worry about getting pregnant. Which since I’m on the pill, and before you say anything, I take it the same time every day, so no worries there. I think we’re safe on that account.” You nodded your agreement, for it was just like (Y/N) to be so precise about something. “But the real reason I don’t want you to use it is…” she hesitated, almost as if she was embarrassed to tell you why. She certainly had to know that there was nothing to be ashamed of, especially with what the two of you were about to do. 

 “Just tell me (Y/N). I promise I won’t laugh or make fun of you or anything.” You squeezed her hand giving her a little added courage.

 “I just want to feel you.” Her face started to turn a combination of pink and red, which looked totally adorable on her. “You know nothing in between us. I just really want to know what it feels like.” Fuck, you wanted that too. 

 “Yeah, that does sound nice.” You tried to downplay it though inside you were a jumble of nerves now, and thinking about what it would feel like to be inside her only made those magnify. What if you spent the moment your cock dipped inside her pussy? What if she didn’t cum? There were so many thoughts whirling around in your head, that you were ready to explode, and in more ways than one. 

 “So, then you agree? No condom.” (Y/N) asked you, drawing you back to the present.

 “Yeah, no condom.” The car grew silent again and you could feel your hand sweating as it held (Y/N)’s. There was only about another half-hour left in the drive. “So, where were you thinking to get something to eat.” You changed the subject hoping to take both of your minds off what would happen later. You stopped off at a little burger joint that (Y/N)’s family always went to when they were in town. You couldn’t stop grinning at each other all through the meal. It was really quite ridiculous. 

 Afterward, you headed over to the house. You carried both your bags in. “Umm…where should I put these?”

 “Oh, I don’t really have a bedroom here. I just sleep in one of the guest rooms, so we can just use one of them. They’re upstairs.” You followed her up the stairs, as she led the way to the bedroom. Inside was a massive four-poster king-size bed that had curtains draping down from it. Both of you just sort of stared at it for a full minute, letting the weight of what was about to happen sink in. “You can just put our stuff over there.” She pointed to the window that had two chairs sitting by it.

 It was late in the afternoon and you weren���t really sure if you should wait until dark to do this or start now. Everything felt too planned out, except for the exact timing. “Did you want to…” you trailed off, unable to put your thoughts into words. 

 “Oh…umm…yeah,” (Y/N) answered and you took a step closer to her. Your hands went to her waist, as you pulled her closer to you, before dipping your head down to kiss her lips. It was awkward, just like it had been the first time you kissed, but then your tongue slipped inside her mouth and you felt her melt into you. She pulled back though suddenly. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She stepped over to her bag, rifling around inside. “I brought these.” She pulled out a couple of glass candles. “I thought…well I don’t know what I thought, but you know, they always have them lit in the movies.”

 You smiled over at her, taking a couple of them and setting them on the nightstand and dresser. “Do you have something to light them with?”

 “Oh, one sec.” She took off downstairs and you could hear her rummaging around the empty house. You gazed at the bed. Should you turn the covers down? Maybe take some of the pillows off? You were contemplating what to do when (Y/N) came back in. “I found a couple more, and this.” She held out a pack of matches and you took them, lighting the candles that she’d placed throughout the room. She pulled the blinds down on the windows and it cast the room in a romantic glow, which reminded you of the item you brought to add to the romance.

 You pulled your mp3 player out of your bag and found the love song list you’d created for tonight and turned it on. You prayed that (Y/N) wouldn’t think that it was cheesy. When you finally turned around, she had the most adorable smile on her face. As you took the couple steps to close the distance between the two of you, she took a step back, and suddenly all those nerves from the car ride were back. “There’s just one more thing.” This time she grabbed her bag and headed into the bathroom. 

 While she was in there, you shucked off your shoes, then decided to get rid of your socks as well, since it would just be awkward to have them on. Grabbing the small bottle of Listerine, you had packed, you swished it around in your mouth then looked around for someplace to spit it out. There wasn’t any, so you just swallowed the small amount, coughing as you did. Lastly, you threw off the sweatshirt you had on. The fewer clothes you had to take off the better was your thought. You were tugging down the plain black t-shirt you had on, when (Y/N) stepped back into the bedroom, clad in a short silk robe. Your mouth went dry. Thoughts of what was underneath or what wasn’t filled your brain, both the one in your head and down below. Fuck, you needed to think of something else or this was going to end before it even started. You tamped down the lust that was threatening to boil over and walked towards (Y/N). “You look,” you shook your head trying to come up with the right word but there was only one. “Beautiful.”

 “Thanks,” she mumbled back as a blush stained her cheeks. “I’m nervous.”

 “Me too,” you admitted and you wiped your palms off before reaching for her. They slid around her waist then up her back as you looked her in the eyes. “Are you sure?”

 “Yeah,” she breathed out knowing that you were asking if she still wanted to have sex. You kissed her then like you had so many times in the past. Her arms slid up around your neck and you deepened the kiss. When you heard her moan, you let your hands roam to the belt of her robe, which came easily undone. Your hands roamed up her sides where you felt her lace bra. You were dying to know what she looked like in it. All the times that you and (Y/N) had done anything sexual together, she’d never been completely naked nor had you. It was always something hurried in the back of your car or on the couch when no one was home. Now though, you could drink your fill of her as you were alone with nothing and no one to interrupt you. 

 Gently, you pulled back from the kiss so you could gaze at her. Her body was covered in white lace, and you wondered if she had done it on purpose; sort of a nod to giving her virginity away to you. Unconsciously, you licked your lips as you took in the swell of her breasts and the curve of her hips. She was sheer perfection. “Damn,” you hissed out. “How did I get so lucky?” She giggled at your comment then let the robe slide off her shoulders; the view now even better than a second ago and you were finding it hard to breathe. 

 You felt yourself get hard just standing there staring at her. “Jame,” she said breaking you out of the spell. 

 “Yeah…uh…sorry.” You blinked hard, then took her hand and led her over to the bed, where you kissed her again. Slowly, you leaned her back onto the mattress, as your body hovered over hers. This part was nothing new, you’d made out with (Y/N) hundreds of times. It was what came next you were unsure of. Her hands slid under your shirt, and she bunched it up so that you could climb out of it. It fell to the ground somewhere in the bedroom. She then reached for the button on your jeans, but you knew if she took them off now, you’d be done. So, you rolled her to her side and followed her, unclasping her bra the minute her back was free. Your legs tangled with hers and you felt her hips gently rock into your thigh. She wanted this just as much as you did but you needed to make it good.

 Last night, you’d pulled Jordie aside and told him of your plans, purely so you could ask his advice. He’d chirped you, of course, for not having done the deed with (Y/N) sooner. But when you threatened to just leave, he stopped. He gave you a ton of information, go down on her first to help her relax, make sure she was wet before you even tried to stick your dick in her, go slow because it will probably hurt her, and the last bit was, make sure you didn’t bust your load too soon. The last part was the one you were truly worried about.

 (Y/N)’s bra now forgotten, you focused your attention there as you twisted both of your bodies so that she was now lying flat on her back. Kissing your way down her neck, you first took one nipple and then the other into your mouth. She moaned and it went straight to your groin. Thank god you still had your jeans on or you’d had spent right then and there. There were times you’d spend a good hour, just toying with breast but tonight was not going to be one of them. Working your way down her stomach, you kissed her right above where her panties were. The cute little white lace panties barely covered her pussy, and your mouth salivated just thinking about tasting her. You hooked your fingers around the elastic at the side, then started to shimmy them over her hips. (Y/N) rose up to help you rid herself of the flimsy garment.

 Setting back on your heels, you drank in the sight of her bare body. You’d never seen her totally naked before, so you took a moment to just drink in the sight of her. One leg slightly bent, her arms off to the sides, but fidgeting as you gazed at her. “Jamie?” Her voice wobbled slightly and you could tell you were making her somewhat nervous, yet you couldn’t take your eyes off her.

 “Sorry,” you said a blush coming to your cheeks. “You’re just…perfect.” She smiled, then sat up, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in for a kiss that had you wanting more. “Lie back,” you told her after kissing her breathless. She did and you took your hands and glided them from her ankles to her inner thighs; spreading her legs wide, so you could settle in between what you knew was your own little piece of heaven on earth. You grinned up at her before laying your tongue flat against her sweet little pussy, then licking between her folds. Her hips bucked forward even at the first contact. Your smile growing wider knowing that you were turning her on. You couldn’t help looking up at her as you flicked your tongue back and forth over her clit. Her hands fisted into the sheets and she moaned out something that you couldn’t quite hear. 

 Spreading her pussy lips with your fingers, you dipped your tongue inside her. “Jamie,” she cried out, and then you felt her hands threading through your hair urging you to continue. She tasted so sweet as you licked up and down her slit then flicked her clit. When she was wet and wanting more, you slid a finger inside her, mimicking what you wanted to do with your cock. Just the thought of being able to slide it into her warm and wet pussy had your cock hardening to granite. Fuck, you needed to get her off, so that you could feel her wrap around your dick before you lost your load. You made that come-hither motion, finding that spongy little spot up inside her. “Oh God,” she moaned out and you felt her legs start to tremble, as your hands kept them from clamping down on your head. Your tongue worked tirelessly on her little nub, alternating between flicking and sucking on it, as you fingered her. “I’m gonna…cum.” (Y/N) barely got the last word out and you felt her pussy spasm around your finger while her whole body bucked upwards. You felt a rush of wetness hit your lips and as much as you wanted to lick up every bit of her essence; you didn’t. 

 She slowly came back to reality with you, as you moved back up the length of her body until your lips were locked with hers. This time when her hands went to your waist you didn’t stop her as she undid first the button then the zipper. (Y/N) tried to help you shimmy out of your jeans but it was no use, so you rolled off her and wiggled out of them yourself. Her giggle went straight to your groin. “We have time, Jame.” You knew she was right but this was a moment you’d been waiting for, for a while now. You tossed the jeans and then your boxer briefs to the floor, before rolling on your side to face (Y/N).

 “I know…it’s just…” you couldn’t quite put it into words, but she nodded her understanding, bringing her hand to your cheek and slowly kissing you. Your hand roamed up her bare back, pressing her close against your skin. She felt so soft and supple in your hands, and you rolled her onto her back, your body looming over hers as your lips and tongues molded together. She moaned into your mouth, and you broke the kiss looking down at her. There was a questioning look in her eyes at your actions. “Are you sure you want to do this? You can tell me no right now and we’ll stop.” It would kill you, but all (Y/N) had to do was say the word.

 “I want this Jamie. I want you.” She cupped your face and brought it down to mere inches above hers. “I love you.”

 Your lips spread into the widest smile that ever graced your face and it had nothing to do with her saying yes to sex. “I love you too, (Y/N),” you told her and although they were only five words, they were the truest thing you’d ever spoken in your life. This wasn’t some fleeting crush that a sixteen-year-old boy had on a girl. This was true love in every sense of the word. You’d known your feelings for her the first time you’d met, now they were just intensified and what would happen next would bind you two together. 

 Her legs fell open, letting you work your way between them. Taking your cock in your hand, you slid it in between her damp pussy lips. She gasped, breaking the kiss and allowing you to stare into her eyes. “Let me know if I’m hurting you,” you hissed out as you nudged forward just an inch. Her walls surrounded your cock and it felt like heaven. Jordie was right, you just wanted to push all the way into her and shoot your load, but you couldn’t or wouldn’t do that to (Y/N). This had to be good for her too. She bit her lip, which made you wonder if she was in pain or if it felt as wonderful for her as it did for you. Another inch forward and you felt a barrier in your way. You knew enough about the female anatomy to know what it was and that going forward would change everything, not only for (Y/N) but you too. You leaned down and gave her another kiss, hoping to ease some of the tension that you could feel coursing through her body. When you felt her relax a bit into the kiss, you pressed all the way forward burying yourself deep inside her. (Y/N) froze and you pulled your head back to look at her, as all the blood in your body went directly to your penis. It took every ounce of your being, not to move. Sweat beading across your forehead as you asked, “Are you ok?” You couldn’t tell if she was breathing or not. She had to be, right? 

 Finally, she inhaled deeply and it was as if you were taking a breath with her as the two of you were finally joined as one. “I think so…I...just need a second.” God, you weren’t sure you could last that long. Her breathing started to even out, as yours became irregular trying to keep your body in check. “I think…” she wiggled and you hissed in a breath. “Yeah…I’m ok…maybe if you…” she didn’t finish what she was saying as your hips moved of their own accord, just a thrust in and out.

 “Fuck.” You were cursing more at yourself for moving than anything else, but damn if she didn’t feel good. 

 “It’s ok,” (Y/N) moaned out, her arms reaching around to your back urging you on. “Keep doing that.” Those words were like music to your ears and you found yourself surging forward back into the warm cavernous heat of her pussy, then pulling back out. 

 “God you feel so…” Good, just didn’t seem like the right word, but at the same time, your brain wasn’t exactly looking for another one. Your cock started to twitch, your balls getting that familiar tightening. You couldn’t cum, not yet, you’d only been inside her for a few minutes. You wanted this to last longer; wanted her to cum too, but there was no more fighting it. “I think I’m…”

 “Yes, Jame, cum inside me.” That’s all it took and you thrust one last time before shooting your load in her as she reached up and kissed your neck. Stars clouded your vision, as your climax hit you. A strangled groan leaving your lips. You’d never came that hard in your life, as you collapsed on top of her.

 It took a second for you to basically regain consciousness. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m probably crushing you.”

 (Y/N) laughed. “Actually, I kind of like it.” Your laughter joined hers until you started to wonder if it was appropriate for sex. You could feel your cock softening inside her, so slid it out of her as you rolled to your side. She whimpered slightly.

 “Fuck, baby, did I hurt you?”

 “No, I mean…it was a little uncomfortable at first but…then it felt so good.” She was on her side now gazing at you.

 You brushed a stray lock of hair off her face. “Sorry, I couldn’t last longer, so you could…well you know.” It still felt awkward talking about getting off, even after what the two of you had just done.

 “Don’t be. It felt good, Jame…really good….and maybe,” she ducked her head down into your chest, suddenly shy and mumbled something incoherent.

 “Babe,” you said, lifting her chin with your thumb and index finger. “I can’t hear what you said.”

 There was the cutest blush on her cheeks. “I just thought…maybe we could do it again. Like later tonight and well maybe tomorrow before we leave.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, her words were like a dream come true. Damn right, you wanted to do it again; as many times as she’d let you.

 “Yeah, baby. I definitely want that.” Your lips connected with her, and after what the two of you had just shared, (Y/N) not only stole your heart, but your soul. That night you made love to her again, only then you made sure she came with you, just like you did in the morning before you left. Those twenty-four hours would forever be embedded in your brain and your heart, and as you dropped her off at her friend's house, so she could maintain her cover you knew that you would love only (Y/N) for the rest of your life.

 Now, here she was fourteen long years later back in your arms. You shook yourself making sure that you weren’t dreaming. She still looked the same, only better; all hips and curves and things that made men lay awake dreaming about at night. As you took in her features, it struck you then. All those other women the ones you’d found something wrong with all the time; didn’t have anything wrong at all. It was just, they weren’t (Y/N). They were only filling a void from the time that you’d ruined everything until now. She was the woman that everyone else had to measure up to, only now she was someone else’s. Fuck, the thought made your head spin. Had it truly taken fourteen years to get her back only to lose her?

 “Hello, Jamie,” she finally spoke and her voice washed over you taking you back to that day and the way she’d called out your name when you were inside her. Your cock hardened instantaneously. She was pressed close to your body and you wondered if she could feel it. 

 “It’s so good to see you.” They were the first words out of your mouth that made sense but they were also the most truthful. It was just too bad that the look on her face didn’t reflect the same. “Sorry, I’m just in shock seeing you is all.”

 “No, I get it.” She replied. “Do you live around here?”

 “Uh…Yeah, I’m the white house right there.”

 “Oh,” she seemed to be taken back by this knowledge, which was probably understandable. Especially given the fact that her husband was going to be your new team doctor. Nothing like having your ex be your new neighbor. 

 “What about you? What are you doing in Dallas?” Though you knew the answer, you needed to hear the words come out of her mouth as confirmation, for until you did; you held out that small hope that there was a chance to make things right again.

 “Um…well.” It was then that she stepped out of your embrace. You hadn’t realized how naturally she fit back in your hands and that of their own accord they didn’t seem to want to let go. “I just moved here.”

 “Kind of got that with the moving truck and all,” you replied, your hand going to the back of your neck at your awkward comment, though she did smile at your words. 

 “Yeah, I suppose that did give it away.” She shifted her weight from one foot to another. It was a nervous habit of hers that you remember from back in the day.

 “It was hard to miss, but I knew the old owner quite well since he was our team doctor. In fact, I heard our new doc was moving in. I guess I’ll be seeing you and your husband around more.” There you’d finally said it. It was like ripping a bandaid off. Sure, it hurt and all but once it was off the sting started to fade, only this time it didn’t, as a look of confusion crossed her face.

 “Husband?”

 “Oh sorry, my bad. I just assumed you were married. Fiancé then?” Either way, it was going to be awkward as hell seeing her at games and functions, let alone out in their yard. Maybe you’d need to look for a different place. Tyler had just moved recently, you’d have to get the name of his realtor.

 A look crossed her face, and you remembered seeing it once before. It was when you’d tried to talk to her after the whole gossip fiasco. She was angry and you had no clue what you said to make her that way, but this was not how you wanted the conversation to go. “I’m not married or engaged, for that matter.” So it must be a boyfriend then, though that didn’t explain her displeasure with you at the moment. 

 “Geez, (Y/N), I’m really sorry. I just assumed that for you to move all the way here you’d be engaged or married to the guy.”

 “There is no guy Jamie. I’m the new doctor.” A look of shock crossed over your face. Why hadn’t anyone told you she’d gone to study medicine? The obvious answer being you tended not to ask about her when you were back home, only because it hurt too much to think about her being with someone else. Though she wasn’t with someone else, it was just her, and she was now your team doctor, who you’d see almost every day. “I can’t believe that you’d think the only reason I’d move her was for a guy. Incredible! You haven’t changed one bit have you?” 

 “It wasn’t…I didn’t…” She started walking away, just like before when you’d tried to explain what had actually happened. “I just assumed…”

 “Yeah, Jame, you just assumed! That what, I couldn’t be smart enough to earn the MD after my name, or that I’m still only good enough for a quick roll in the hay.” You went to answer but she held up her hand and took a deep breath. “Save it, Jamie. I’m a professional and that’s what I’ll be when I see you at the arena or out, but other than that…we have nothing to say.” With that, she left you standing there speechless as she jogged back up her driveway and into the house. And here you thought you had a second chance, that things weren’t totally ruined between you two. Maybe they weren’t. If anything, her position on the team, meant that you’d be seeing a lot of each other, something you were definitely ok with. You might have messed up all those years ago, and somewhat today, but now you had a chance to turn everything around. Maybe things weren’t quite ruined….yet.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 29

First

Previous

Next

Chat was still reeling from the bombshell that was ‘everyone apparently knows about his family life’ when Master Fu had told them that he probably knew Hawkmoth… and then, because apparently the universe wasn’t done with him, Master Fu had told them that he had personally chosen Hawkmoth.

Master Fu sighed as he looked over all their faces and then motioned for them to sit down. They did so without question or complaint, though it was mostly because everyone was in shock and on autopilot.

He leaned heavily against his cane.

“You all know the way the story started. About thirty years ago, a woman calling herself Paon started terrorizing Paris with what she called Sentimonsters using the peacock miraculous.”

Of course they knew the story. They had only been alive for a little more than half of it, but that didn’t mean they didn’t remember the giant Sentimonsters wreaking havoc every day. Those kinds of memories stick with you.

“To counter her, a man called Pieris, with powers that varied by the battle, rose to counteract her.”

They all nodded. They were beginning to piece together who Hawkmoth was, they weren’t stupid, but… one thing didn’t make sense:

“But Pieris would have been an akuma, not Hawkmoth,” said Rena, frowning.

“Who says Hawkmoth can’t akumatize himself?” Said Master Fu quietly. He sighed again, looking even older than usual. “Anyways, you all know that it took about twenty years for him to defeat her.”

They all nodded again. Chat hadn’t been allowed out, but he remembered all of the parties and celebrations when it had been announced that Paon’s reign of terror was over.

(Not that he’d wanted to be let out at the time. His mother had just died, going out and having fun had felt wrong. How could he be happy when his mother would never be able to do so again?)

“But… it turned out that the man that I had chosen to be Pieris was Paon’s husband. When he found out what he had done to his wife, he was overcome with grief. His miraculous corrupted him.”

Beside him, Rena clenched her fists. “So… did you choose Paon, too? Is this just our fate? One day we’ll just go evil and there’s nothing --?”

“No,” Master Fu cut her off. “Paon… it was passed through her family. Sometimes the person would use it for good, other times bad, but no matter what they passed it on once the eldest child became an adult.”

Rena relaxed, but only slightly.

Chat couldn’t find it in himself to do the same.

He turned and buried his face in Rena’s shoulder, unsure what to do. There was no way...

Right?

Chat bit his lip.

His parents had always been very busy and a little bit distant, though he had just attributed that to their jobs. Then there was the fact that his mother’s death coincided with the day that Paon had last been seen. When Paon and Pieris had disappeared his father had been more present, and when Hawkmoth had appeared his father had suddenly had a heavy workload again...

But that could be explained away, he thought. The death could be an unlucky coincidence, and who wants to do extra work when their wife has just died? And then who’s to say that his father couldn’t get back into work again by the time Hawkmoth had appeared? No, that could make sense.

His father HAD been really interested in his ring, though --.

No.

Gabriel Agreste COULDN’T be Hawkmoth. Chat didn’t have any proof of it, but he knew it to be true. Sure, the man was distant, but that didn’t mean he was evil. After all, Chat still had memories of his father sitting him on his lap and letting him color a design he’d made. He could still remember all the times his father had shifted aside in bed so he could cuddle after a nightmare. How could a man like that be evil?

How could a man like that knowingly endanger his son every day?

No. There were other people.

Sure, there were only a few people he could consider himself close to, but that didn’t mean he never talked to anyone outside of his family, servants, Kagami, and Chloe. As an Agreste, he’d attended many different balls and galas and even business meetings to represent his family, he was acquainted with plenty other rich people.

Yeah. There were other options. He was just jumping to conclusions because of the Traitor Scare a few days beforehand. Yeah. It was someone else. It had to be.

~

Rena had been the one to escort Master Fu home. Maybe it was to question him further, they didn’t know. They were all pretty sure they didn’t want to ask, though, because she came home looking even more dejected than before.

When she got back she took a seat on the table. Chat had perched himself in the window. Chloe had laid across the couch, legs in Ladybug’s lap. Carapace had slung himself across the armchair.

Despite the disparity in their positions, however, all their faces had the same contemplative look.

Rena was the first one to speak: “Fuck that guy, am I right?”

Ladybug laughed a little, though it sounded forced. “Yeah. All I’m getting is that the bitch didn’t use to have child heroes.”

There was a beat, and then Carapace sat up suddenly. “Wait a minute, you’re right! Pieris was an adult!”

“It’s probably because kids are easier to manipulate,” said Chloe quietly. All eyes fell on her. “Think about it. Chat, Ladybug, and Carapace never really defend themselves -- Carapace defends other people, sure, but he wasn’t close enough to any of us to bother before. Rena and I both started out practically worshiping at least one of you guys. For one reason or another, we were all pretty easy to manage.”

The silence that followed the statement was deafening.

The longer they stewed in it the angrier they got and the luckier they were that Hawkmoth had already used up his akumitization of the day.

“Can’t believe that he did this to stop me from retiring -- actually, no, I can believe it,” muttered Carapace. “I shouldn’t have told him I was thinking about leaving for college. Should’ve just applied, made a public statement, and then dropped the bracelet on his doorstep… damn him...”

Rena laughed bitterly. “‘Damn him’ is right. Really, though, I should’ve known he was fucked from the start. Who the hell goes up to someone and says ‘I have been looking for a person like you for a while now’?”

“You punched him, right?” Said Chloe with a frown.

“Obviously. I punched him and ran. Went the wrong way, though, and ended up cornered in an alley.”

“You definitely should’ve been wary of him after that one,” agreed Ladybug. “If he had done that to me I wouldn’t have trusted anything he tried to put on my neck even if I saw a God coming out of it... maybe I would’ve trusted him less if that happened, actually.”

“Things have gone downhill since I was recruited, apparently.” Chat said with a weak grin, and Ladybug nodded her agreement. “I had to save him from getting run over. Which was stupid, might I add. What if I hadn’t looked up in time? Did he have a backup plan or was he just going to let himself get hit if I didn’t notice?”

“Wait, go back. You had to save him from a car?” Said Chloe. “I had to pick up his cane for him! Where was my super cool trial?”

“I think I can answer both of you guys’ questions…”

Everyone looked at Carapace, but he was determinedly looking at his phone.

“Well, for one, no, he did not have a backup plan.”

Rena’s hand flew to her mouth. “You let him get hit?!”

Carapace winced. “Okay, wait, hold up. I did not ‘let him get hit’. I just… didn’t notice that he was in danger until he was hit, there’s a difference.”

Ladybug and Chat looked at each other and their eyes widened as they realized something at the same time.

“Oh my kwami, are you the reason he has to use a cane?”

He didn’t seem to hear this, apparently very interested in something on his phone.

“Are you the reason he has to use a cane?” Chat repeated.

Still nothing.

“Carapace… Carapace… please tell me you’re not the reason,” said Ladybug. Her voice wobbled with either laughter or tears, Chat wasn’t sure.

Apparently their friend had gone deaf without them noticing.

Chloe’s eyes were alight with what was definitely laughter. “Your first day was even worse than mine!”

“PLEASE,” said the no longer deaf Carapace. He briefly set his phone down to count off on his fingers: “Let’s see… revealed your identity, covered half the city with honey, nearly crashed a train, got akumatized --.”

He never got to finish, because Chloe had thrown herself at him and started trying to smother him with a pillow.

“That’s a throw pillow, Chlo, you’re supposed to throw them,” supplied Rena.

He tried to yell something through the pillow, probably ‘traitor’, but it sounded like “Huhu!”

Chat smiled and walked over to Carapace’s fallen phone and started recording.

~

There was no context for the video that showed up on Carapace’s account that night.

All the people of Paris got was a video of Chloe and Carapace rolling around on the floor, laughing as they took part in what was essentially a pillow fight at that point.

Rena was in the background. She was goading them on, yelling encouragement for whoever she wanted and switching sides at the drop of a hat.

Ladybug was also there, her lips pressed together thinly in an attempt to hide a smile as she made eye contact with the camera and gave an eyeroll.

Chat’s laughter, which had been a soft but constant sound throughout the video, picked up briefly at the eyeroll.

The video cut.

~

Despite his exhaustion, he hadn’t been able to sleep. So, at four in the morning, he shuffled downstairs with a blanket wrapped around himself.

He started towards the kitchen for something to eat, only to stop cold when he heard a quiet scraping sound from inside.

The lights were still off in the kitchen… and everyone should have been asleep or out on patrols...

Many thoughts ran through his head. Hawkmoth could be back. Robbers could be in the house.

He pulled out his phone and transformed. If it was people robbing the place he’d need proof for the police, and if it was Hawkmoth Rena would kill him if he didn’t get a picture (if Hawkmoth didn’t kill him first, of course).

He started recording and then walked to the door, flicking the light on.

Ladybug was sitting on the counter in a Totoro onesie, eating mac and cheese straight from the pot.

He relaxed and let his phone arm fall limply to his side. “Oh, it’s just you.”

She nodded. “Yeah. I was hungry.”

“I can see that.” He realized something as she pulled more food to her mouth and he squinted just to make sure. “Is that… is that brown?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Put coffee in it.”

He was tempted to try and clean out his ears, because there was no way she should have been able to say that so nonchalantly.

“WHY?!”

“Wanted to see if it tasted better.”

He stared at her, trying to gauge if she was messing with him… and then, because he simply had to know, he asked: “And… and does it?”

She looked down at the abomination she had created sadly.

“No.”

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write @trippingovermyfeet @melicmusicmagic @meimei3841 @roseliali

[yuiopiklmn]

hello :) can i request a sam winchester (if you’re doing him) one shot where the reader has some sort of ability that can help them so they start taking her along since she doesn’t have any family or a job and her and sam fall for each other? something fluffy bc i love sammy 🥺🥺

Sam Winchester One Shot (unless you want more)

Request above

Warnings: Language, and not edited

Parining: Sam Winchester x f!reader

Word Count: 1263

Make your own Request or just write it in "ask me anything"

More works by me

I came home from a very long night of studying at the library, and the moment I stepped into my dark apartment it smelled horrible. If it was one of my roommates cooking I wouldn’t be shocked but the moment the light turned on it shone on 3 dead bodies. The bodies of my roommates, my friends, and the only family I had left. They were my people and they laid dead with slash marks through their faces, and their hearts ripped from their chests. Tears were uncontrollably falling down my face as I called 911.

They hurried over and I answered all the questions I could. After their bodies were covered, and the police left I packed my things. Everything that could fit in a duffel I took and I left my apartment, the only home I’ve known for the past couple of years. I left a note on the counter for my landlord with the rent for this month. I drove down the streets late at night with my headlights as my only source of light, and a couple of traffic lights and street lamps, to the nearest hotel.

I got a key and headed straight to my room. Nobody questioned me as I slowly walked through the halls with tears still running down my face. I opened the door and threw my duffel on my bed before sliding down to the floor. I silently cried before falling asleep with my legs propped up and my head in my arms.

I woke up to a knock on my door. I looked in the bathroom mirror fixing myself up while yelling that I would be there in a minute. I opened the door and two handsome men stood opposite of me in black suits. They held up their badges which showed they were FBI. I welcomed them in, and while they took their seats I offered them a drink.

They explained that my landlord told them I’d be here and they asked many questions about last night, and I explained it the same way I did to the cops. They looked at each other and the taller one said, “Miss, can you tell us about anything that was out of the ordinary? Like any strange smells, or tiny bags.”

“I mean it smelled like a corpse, what am I supposed to say?” “Like, did it smell like sulfur?” chimed in the second one.

“No it didn't, all I know is that the moment I walked in and turned on the lights they were covered in slash marks and had their hearts ripped out. The police didn’t even acknowledge that, so why are you two curious?” “Well you may not believe us but we aren't the FBI, we are hunters, and we think that your roommates were attacked by a werewolf. My name is Sam and this is my brother Dean, we kill these things,” said ‘Sam’ “So you guys are telling me that you committed identity theft to get answers and to tell me they were attacked by something from Twilight.”

“Well the first part is correct, but things that lurk in the night are real. Witches, demons, vampires, werewolves, everything you can imagine,” Dean explained. “If I believe you then what do we do?”

“We kill the bastard that hurt your family.”

“I want to come with you guys.” “Sorry sweetheart, but you aren’t coming,” Dean said.

“Well sorry to disappoint you but I will get my revenge on whoever the hell did this to my family.”

“Dean, I think we should let her join.”

“Fine, you can come, but first may we know your name.” “My name is (Y/N).”

“Good to know, now let’s kill this son of a bitch.”

TIME SKIP

The monster was dead and it turns out it was one of my roommate's ex-boyfriends which I wasn’t surprised at.

Dean was talking to some chick and I sat by Sam at the bar, who I personally find hotter between the two even though all of the chicks were pulled more towards Dean.

“So what are you going to do now that the werewolf is dead?” He asked, and I turned my attention away from my drink to look at him. “Live life I guess, I miss them though. My roommates were everything to me and they were my only family left since my parents died in a car accident,” I answered.

“I know how you feel. My brother is all I got, yes he is a pain, but he has always been there for me since our parents died,” We looked at each other with sympathy and shared a smile, “What if you continued hunting with us? We have a nice place to live, you did really well without any hunting experience, and we could be your new family. What do you say, (Y/N)?”

“I say…..hell yeah let’s do it.” We raised our glasses and shared a quick ‘cheers’ before downing them.

After a couple more hours of drinks, and funny stories to keep the subject off of our lost, loved ones, we headed out. Dean agreed to letting me join and we headed to my hotel to pick up my stuff.

TIME SKIP AGAIN

I have been living with boys for quite some time and I became really good friends with their angel roommate named Castiel. I also learned that I had powers from Cas, specifically I was an angel. I found that really weird since I would’ve known if I had powers or at least I would’ve known I was an angel. He explained that since I didn’t know they were pushed and buried away, I had to train to gain them back. I worked really hard with him and I was able to heal people, mostly, and I had lots of practice since the boys got injured a lot.

After a while I also noticed that I had feelings for Sam. I wanted to tell him, but I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. Dean caught on pretty quickly and would tease me often, and since he cared about us both he encouraged me to tell him.

One day I walked up to him and pulled him into the kitchen for some privacy.

“Sam, we need to talk.”

“Is everything okay?” He looked at me with caring eyes and my heart did a flip.

“Yes, everything is okay…..I just wanted to tell you something.”

“Sure, anything, what’s up?” “I don’t want to ruin our friendship because it matters a lot to me, but I like you a lot. I realized this a bit ago and I-” I was cut off by a pair of lips that were attached to mine. I quickly kissed back, but he soon cut it short.

“I like you too.” He blushed while rubbing his neck.

“ABOUT TIME!!” Dean said while peeking his head by the door frame with Cas by his side.

“Dean what the hell!!” I said, very flustered.

“You both told me you liked each other and Cas and I made a bet on who would have the balls to ask the other person out....Cas pay up.” He looked at Cas with his hand out and Cas reached into his coat pocket and handed him $5.

“You guys were betting on us?!” Sam said.

“You better believe it brother and I won, you have no balls man.”

“Shut up!!” Sam andI were bright red, but then we all burst out laughing and it was one of the best days of my life.

A/N: Sorry if that made zero sense. I want to do all the requests I get, and I may not like Sam a whole lot because I’m a Dean girl. I still wanted to fulfill this lovely person’s request. I hope you enjoyed it. I might make a part 2 to “Visiting Austin” next so drop a follow, send in more requests, and leave a like. Also please check out “Angel” . It's a book I’ve been passionate about for almost 2 years now and I would love for you guys to read it. See you in the next thing I write. Bye my bumblebees!!!!

[voiceless-terror]

Okay but. Jon saying to Tim "I don't know where to go" when they're all estranged and sad and stuff and Jon's been mauled or something else we all enjoy putting him through. What a dynamic.

Hey there friend! This turned out a lot angstier than I planned, but I hope you like the torture. Just 2k of Jon and Tim season three feelings.

Tim’s pulling out of the Institute’s tiny car park when he sees him.

He heard that Jon had been gallivanting across America from Martin; that’s how he got most of his Jon-related news, lately. Wasn’t like he was going to ask the man himself. 

“He was kidnapped, Tim,” Martin furiously whispered to him after Jon’s bout with the Circus. “The least you can do is ask after him.”

“Looks fine to me,” he shrugged callously, turning his chair around as Jon walked into the room. He was walking and talking. That’s more than a lot of people can say.

Jon’s standing there, looking lost and small against the austere backdrop of the Institute. He doesn’t seem to be going anywhere, just staring straight ahead like a lost child. He looks...sick. Hurt. Hunched over, like someone just out of sight is going to hit him. Jon always looks that way, sure, but Tim needs him to be alive and functioning if they’re going to take on the Circus. And what the hell was he wearing? He’s decked out in some sort of baggy flannel button up and torn jeans, a giant green coat over the whole ensemble that makes him look like a vagrant. It angers Tim how tiny and stupid he looks in it. 

Against his better judgment, he finds himself pulling over and opening the window, tamping down the concern with annoyance. “What are you still doing here?” he says in his gruffest voice, hoping to spur him into action. Even watching him skitter down the street would be easier than this.

Jon startles, jumping in place with a wince. “O-Oh, hi Tim.” The happiness on his face is at odds with the rest of him. Tim has noticed the way Jon’s eyes light up whenever he so much as glances at him, desperate for any attention or reconciliation he can get. “How are you?” Tim rolls his eyes.

“What,” he repeats, as if talking to someone particularly slow. “Are you doing here?” Jon shuffles his feet and looks down at the pavement. He’s sweaty and twitching, like a junkie looking for his next fix. Probably another spooky side effect of whatever the fuck is going on with him.

“I-I, well- you know I’ve been away,” he begins, ever evasive and stuttering. “I was staying with, with a friend-” Tim didn’t know he had any of those. “-but I don’t think she’d appreciate me showing up like this-” An embarrassed glance down at his clothes and a self-deprecating laugh. “And I’m pretty sure I’ve been evicted, so- to be honest, I don’t know where to go.” He says the last bit with such sadness and open vulnerability that Tim’s not sure whether to hug him or hit him.

His mouth quickly decides for him. “Get in the car.” Why am I doing this? He’s unlocking the door and pushing it open, gesturing roughly.

“W-What?” Jon stumbles a bit as he steps forward, his body eager to follow Tim’s instructions but his mind still hesitant. “I don’t- really, Tim, you don’t need to-”

“What are you going to do, sleep on the street?” You look like you already did, he doesn’t say. “Get in the car. Just stop...standing there.”

Jon quickly but gingerly gets in the car, probably afraid Tim’s going to change his mind. He still might. But Tim pulls away from the institute and onto the road, already on his way. “Thank you,” Jon murmurs. He doesn’t respond, just watches as his arms curl around his torso in a protective manner. Now that he’s closer, he can see the man’s face is flushed, likely with fever. But there’s something odd about the way he carries himself, like he’s about to keel over even while sitting.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asks, his voice blunt and sharp. “You look like shit. America didn’t treat you well, then?”

Jon chuckles humorlessly. “More like Daisy,” he says. Tim remembers Martin complaining about the way she had marched him back to the Archives “too roughly,” as if Jon were a piece of fine china that should be handled with care. “There was an incident with er, some stairs. But I’m really just not feeling well, I’m afraid. Probably caught something on the flight.”

“Hang on- did she push you down a stairwell? What the fuck, Jon?” His outrage surprises him and he slams on the brakes too quickly at the next light, jostling Jon in his seat. “Isn’t she supposed to be, I don’t know, babysitting you? For Elias?”

“It was just the last few, and I was kind of dragging my feet-” Jon tries to school his face into calmness, but it’s clear the mention of the woman makes him anxious. “Elias doesn’t really care about that- as long as I get the job done.”

“Stop- why are you defending her?” His hands grip the steering wheel with a painful force as he bites out the words. “Stand up for yourself, for Christ’s sake. You just let everything happen now. You’re not even trying.” There’s years of pain behind the words that Tim can’t hide and he watches as Jon shrinks in on himself, curling further into the passenger seat.

“I’m trying,” Tim hears him whisper. “I am.”

They don’t speak for the rest of the drive.

__________

He doesn’t take the lift up to his apartment as it’s only on the second floor; he swallows down the guilt as Jon struggles. There’s only so much sympathy he can spare. Jon trails behind him as they enter the flat- its dark, and messier than Tim likes to keep it. He hasn’t been one for tidiness these days.

“Sit,” he points at a chair by the kitchen table as he throws his bag on the floor. “I have leftover Pad Thai. That’ll have to do.”

“Oh I’m fine, thank you,” Jon shifts in his chair, uncomfortable. Probably in pain. Tim will give him some paracetamol with his food. 

“You’re sick,” Tim’s getting tired of pointing this out. “Hurt. You need to eat something. It’ll make you feel better.”

“I already had a statement-”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” Tim yells as he slams his hand down on the counter. He’s sick of these strange conversations. Jon will do anything that fucker Bouchard wants him to do, but now he’s being contrary? “Just eat the fucking food, Jon.”

“Okay,” Jon capitulates at the angry tone, eyes looking down at the table. Good and quiet. Tim can work with that. 

It only takes a few minutes to heat up the food. When it’s done he slams a bowl in front of Jon along with three pills. Jon had always taken a bit more than the usual dosage; Tim used to fight him over it. He doesn’t anymore. Jon swallows them sans water and pokes at the food with his chopsticks. He’s not going to let Jon up from the table until he eats at least some of the food- he thinks Jon subconsciously knows this.

But Jon isn’t interested in eating right now. Jon wants to talk. Tim can see it in every line of his shaking frame, the buzzing urge to ask a question, to dig. Tim knows what happens when Jon asks questions and he freezes, clenching his jaw in preparation.

As expected, Jon begins to speak. “I’m- I’m worried about you, Tim.” Dear God. “Martin says-”

“Oh, what’s Martin got to say about me, Jon?” He clenches his hands into fists and narrows his eyes at the man across the table. “Go on, then. I’m waiting.”

“He’s worried too!” There’s a bit of fight in Jon’s eyes, his words are sharp and biting. It’s strangely comforting. “He says you’re getting reckless, that- that you’re willing to do ‘whatever it takes’ to stop the Circus and I-”

“I am,” Tim confirms. He’s never made a show of hiding it. “And I thought you would be too.”

This time it’s Jon that slams his hands on the table- it’s a mistake, Tim can see his body shaking and straining with the pain. “Goddamnit Tim, I’m not going to watch you die!”

The temperature drops and Tim finds his breath catching in his throat. He’s thought about dying. He thinks he’s made his peace with it. Go out in a flaming inferno, taking whoever’s in his way down with him. Jon looks devastated at the idea. He doesn’t know why. He thought they were past this.

“Sasha died,” he says, relishing Jon’s flinch. “My brother died. Sometimes, Jon, people die.” His own eyes are stinging but he doesn’t want to give Jon the pleasure of seeing him break. “And there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Jon's body wilts at this, slumping further into his chair in a way that must have been painful. But his eyes burn with a strange, manic fire and his hand reaches across the table, grabs Tim’s own and squeezes with a force he didn’t think Jon was capable of. 

“Don’t,” Tim whispers- but he doesn’t pull his hand away, just averts his eyes because he can’t stand to see this broken, shaking mess of a man trying to comfort him. 

“I’m so sorry, Tim-” and that’s when he rips his hand away from Jon’s. Apologies were never his forte.

“Don’t be sorry,” he snarls, standing from the table and pushing his chair back with a bang. “Just promise me that when the time comes, you’ll get out of the way and let me do what needs to be done.” His chest heaves with an emotion he’s never been able to put into words- it’s more than grief. It’s fear and pain and uncertainty and emptiness all rolled into one and spilling at the seams. “Please.”

Jon just stares- his face is ashen and there are so many words he wants to say, Tim can feel it.

Instead, he says nothing.

__________

Jon is curled up in Tim’s bed. He tried to refuse it multiple times, but Tim wouldn’t hear of it, practically shoving a pair of pajamas into his hands as he studiously avoided Jon’s eyes.

“The sheets are clean,” he said, the words flat and monotone. “You always liked it when the sheets were clean.”

He did. He remembers a time not so long ago when Tim would laugh as he buried his face in the pillow, relaxed and smiling. “Like a cat!” he teased.

Jon always slept easy in Tim’s bed but tonight rest evades him and it’s not just the pain or the fever. It’s lonely, cold and empty in here. He wonders if Tim is already asleep on the couch.

He’s not. Jon’s standing in the doorway and watching the tenseness in his posture, arms curled into his chest and eyes clenched shut. Tim was always an open sleeper, legs and arms akimbo as he sprawled across whatever surface he laid claim to. He also snores, though he denies it whenever Jon brings it up. 

Despite knowing the rest is feigned, he jumps in shock when one arm reaches out in a beckoning gesture. Is he-?

“Don’t think about it,” Tim says in a clipped tone but his arm’s still out and Jon hurries across the floor, hoping this isn’t some sort of fever dream. But Tim settles him against his chest, warm and real and Jon chokes with everything he wants to say and never said, wants to ask him about Sasha and Danny and-

“Stop thinking,” Tim interrupts his musings again, his arm tightening around Jon. “This means nothing. Just go to sleep.”

“Okay,” he whispers hoarsely back, burrowing his head in Tim’s chest. This means nothing. Go to sleep. He listens to Tim’s heartbeat, slow and steady and thrumming with life.

He wonders how long it will stay that way. 

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27389947

[mandowh0re]

Peter’s Emergency Contact

Summary: Peter meets the Avengers. It doesn’t go well.

A/N: I’m a terrible person tell me to finish my wips. Also I’m sorry about May :(

P.s. it’s been a long time since I picked this fic up so there are some continuum issues, please forgive me.

Part1/ Part2/ Part3/ Part 4

Part 4

Putting it mildly, Peter was fucking bored. It was summer, but both Ned and MJ were on vacation with their families. And on top of that, it was way too hot to go out and do anything, including patrol. He was, however, on stand by if Karen came through with anything that required Spider-Man’s assistance.

A few floors down, the ex-Rogue Avengers were doing god knows what. They had been pardoned a month earlier and moved back into the tower. Peter had yet to meet them, though Tony seemed okay with them. But Peter didn’t really trust them.

Well, okay. He more-so didn’t trust Steve. Even though the others fought against Tony too, it was Steve that scared Tony. Peter noticed minute things that Tony would do whenever the Captain was mentioned. He’d fidget, or grab his left wrist, or rub his chest, or bite the inside of his cheek. Mostly stuff that would fly past most people.

But Peter wasn’t ‘most people’. Officially, Peter was Tony’s child. After a car accident killed May about eight months prior, Tony legally adopted Peter. Since then, Peter has learned all of Tony’s tells. Wanting to get to the bottom of these anxious ticks, Peter hacked his way around FRIDAY’s systems to figure out what had happened.

Peter wasn’t one to give into rage, but that day he spent a majority of his time in the gym or swinging through the city because he was basically vibrating from the emotion.

But they lived in the same tower, and maybe Peter was desperate for something to do, so he decided to head down to the common room where FRIDAY had informed him that a few of the Avengers were hanging out.

The elevator dinged and Peter walked out to the sight of… Christmas decorations?

“What the…” He breathed, looking around the room.

“You’re not Stark,” Natasha said, suddenly appearing in front of Peter.

Peter had to literally fight down his fanboy excitement to greet the literal Black Widow!

“Uh, no. I mean, technically I am but-”

“You’re Peter, right?” Was that a smirk? Peter couldn't tell.

“Uh, y-yeah. How-?”

“I have my ways of finding things out,” Okay, now that was a smile, “I haven’t told anyone though. So you’ll have to introduce yourself to them.” She said as she tossed her head to the side, motioning to the others on the floor.

“Oh, right.”

Peter followed Natasha farther into the room, gaining the attention of the rest of the crew including Wanda Maximoff, Vision (who Peter had actually met before), Clint Barton, Sam Wilson, and Bruce (who Peter had also met before as he and Thor showed up about two months after May’s death).

“Uh, who’s the child, Nat?” Clint asked, sitting on the kitchen island.

Natasha looked at Peter, who began picking at the hem of his shirt. A nervous tick of his own.

“Uh, hi, Mister Barton. I’m Peter. Uh, Peter Parker. Or, Peter Parker-Stark now I guess? I’m-”

“Wait, excuse me, Parker-Stark? Since when the hell did Stark have a child?” Sam cut in.

“Let him finish,” Wanda berated the man, who seemed to currently be baking cookies, “Go on,” She said to the other teenager in the room, smiling kindly.

“Right, so uh, Tony hired me as his personal intern like two years ago, and we got pretty close. My aunt died last December and since she was my last family, Tony took me in and adopted me.” Immediately after mentioning his aunt’s death, almost everyone in the room looked at him with pity.

“I’m sorry kid,” That was Clint again, “Life sucks sometimes.”

“I’m adjusting,” Peter replied, but he quickly changed the subject, “Why are you decorating for Christmas? It’s almost a hundred degrees outside, not to mention it’s July.”

“Ah, that was my idea!” Sam called from the kitchen where he was currently pulling cookies out of the oven, “Since we’re on house arrest until further notice, I thought we could entertain ourselves with Christmas in July. It’s something we used to do when I was younger.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!”

“You’re welcome to join, kid.” Bruce called from his spot on the couch.

“Really? Thanks guys!” Peter jumped onto a seat at the island.

“Have a cookie, man.” Sam said, holding out a plate of santa shaped sugar cookies.

“Aw sweet!” The boy grabbed one and took a bite, “Thanks!”

About fifteen minutes passed by when Peter’s senses upped a few notches.

“Any cookies left, Sam?”

Peter nearly choked on his current cookie and jumped up to see Steve Rogers walking out of the elevator.

“Yep, a few plates full. There’s sugar, gingerbread, and chocolate chip.”

A few seconds passed before the super soldier noticed Peter.

“Um, hello. I’m Steve, you are?” He offered a hand for Peter to shake.

Peter tried to respond, but the room suddenly began spinning. He gripped onto the counter to steady himself.

“Son?” Steve asked.

“Don’ call me tha’,” Peter tried to glare, but he wasn’t even sure he was controlling his face properly.

Out of nowhere his legs gave out, and black began overtaking his vision.

A chorus of exclamations rang out as everyone ran over to tend to the boy. Fortunately and unfortunately, Steve was the closest and was the one to grab Peter before he hit the ground.

“No! Let me go!” He struggled against Steve’s arms to no avail.

“Calm down, son, I’m just-”

“What happened?” Bruce asked, feeling for Peter’s pulse.

“He just collapsed.” Sam answered.

Then Peter began seizing.

“Fuck, Sam, start a timer to time the seizure. Steve, pick him up and bring him to the medbay with me. Natasha, call Tony.”

“Why are we calling Tony?” Steve asked, following Bruce into the elevator.

It was silent for a moment where Bruce and Nat exchanged glances before Bruce answered, “He’s Tony’s kid.”

“Since when-”

“Later Steve. One thing at a time.”

***

“This better be important. Like, life or death because you pulled me out of a meeting and Pepper-”

“Shut up, Stark. Something is wrong with Peter.”

Tony was quiet for a moment before growling back, “Explain, Romanoff. Now.”

“I don’t know, Tony. He came down and introduced himself and was hanging out with us when he just collapsed and started seizing. We’re taking him to the medbay now-”

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I’m in DC. I’ll have to come back with the suit but it’ll still take me an hour.”

“What do you want me to-”

“Do not let him out of your sight, Nat. I don’t want him waking up alone and you and Bruce are the only two I trust enough to watch him. Keep me updated, I’ll let you know when I’m there.”

“Got it.”

***

“He’s showing symptoms of anaphylactic shock,” Bruce said to the other two occupants after injecting Peter with an anticonvulsant, “ FRIDAY, is Peter allergic to anything? Override code six one three three nine seven five.”

“Peter is allergic to peppermint, and as well has severe reactions when in close vicinity to insect repellents.”

“Was there peppermint in Sam’s cookies?”

“One moment, Doctor Banner.” A few seconds passed before the AI came back with an answer, “Mister Wilson has supplied that the sugar cookies had peppermint extract in them.”

“Peter had several of those,” Nat said quietly.

“Okay, okay at least I can work with that. Steve,” Bruce called to the soldier while pulling out an epinephrine pen, “I think it’d be better if you waited with everyone else. Thank you for helping.”

Steve wanted to argue, but he looked at Nat who seemed to agree with Bruce.

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything else.” He offered before walking out the door.

As soon as the door shut behind him Nat spoke, “If Peter hadn’t accidentally poisoned himself I’m pretty sure he would have punched Steve.”

Bruce finished injecting the medicine and pulled the pen away from Peter’s thigh, “He still might.”

Natasha helped Bruce fix an IV drip in Peter’s arm in silence.

“You don’t have to stay, I can watch him until Tony gets here.” Bruce offered.

“He won’t be here for another forty five minutes. Plus, I’m supposed to keep watch. Stark’s orders.”

Bruce nodded in understanding, “His vitals are starting to return to normal. I’ll go update the others.”

“I’ll call Tony.”

***

Peter felt like he’d been hit by a train.

Had he?

Honestly he couldn’t remember what had happened. He opened his eyes to see Tony next to his bed (why was he in the medbay?) talking to someone on the other side of his bed. Soon his ears stopped ringing and he heard another hushed voice. Probably whoever Tony was talking to. Why did Tony look upset?

Peter turned his head to see Steve standing there.

And

What?

Without really having his wits about him yet, Peter jumped up and shoved the man back, pulling and knocking over his IV stand in the process.

“Woah, Pete! Calm down-”

“What? You didn’t get to kill him in Siberia so you thought you’d come and finish the job while I’m out?” Peter practically snarled.

Steve’s eyes blew wide, shock and shame overtaking his features, “Son, I-”

“And stop calling me that!” Peter shoved again, sending the captain into the wall, leaving a sizable crack.

“Peter!” Tony yelled, grabbing at the kid’s arm, “Calm down, bud. He’s not here to hurt me, or you for that matter. Can you please sit back down before you give me another damn heart attack?”

Peter obliged but his eyes never left Steve, who looked to be in too much of shock to really say anything.

“Cap, let the team know he’s awake, will ya?” It really wasn’t a suggestion or a question, more like a thinly veiled disguise to get him out of the room before Peter decided he hadn’t had enough.

Nodding, Steve hightailed it out of the room, but not before looking back at Peter and offering a quick apology.

It was quiet for a few moments, in which time Tony set the IV stand back up and made sure Peter’s IV was still in place. Finally the older man spoke, “Pete, buddy, what was all that about? How do you know what happened in Siberia?”

Peter’s demeanor fell slightly as he came back to himself, “Wasn’t hard to guess.”

“Mhmm. Wanna try again? Maybe with the truth this time?” Tony said as he sat back down next to his kid.

Peter crossed his arms and looked down at the floor.

“I hacked FRIDAY,” He mumbled.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Tony asked.

Peter sighed audibly before repeating himself, louder this time, “I hacked FRIDAY.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because you were beat up and withdrawn after we got back from Germany. Which, okay, fine. We weren’t in a place for you to tell me what happened. But then the pardon for them was beginning to go through and every time Steve was even mentioned, you had these reactions like you were nervous or something. And I wanted to know why. I already had a pretty good idea. Then I saw the footage and I just… I don’t want him near you..”

“Peter, buddy. Look at me, please,” Tony gently held the boy’s chin and turned his head so that he looked at Tony, “Thank you for looking out for me. But that’s not your responsibility,”

“Yes it is! I can’t-” His throat catches and a lump forms, tears making their way to the surface, “I’ve lost everyone because I couldn’t protect them. I can’t lose you too.”

Tony pulls Peter in for a hug, and cards his fingers through the kid’s curls, “It’s okay to cry, honey. But I’m not going anywhere. Remember that. The universe will have to personally fight me before I let anything get between us. Understood?” Peter nodded slightly, but clung to his father’s shirt as he cried.

Eventually Peter fell asleep in Tony’s arms.

“I love you, kid. I’m not going anywhere.” Tony whispered, placing a kiss on top of the curls on his kid’s head.

And yes. Peter did end up punching Captain America. We don’t bring that up.

***

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[illlumiseven]

Don’t Ever Scare me Like that Again.

Joel Miller x Reader

Pt : 1/2

Warnings: Light Angst, fluff(if you squint), swearing

Summary: You’re Tess’ slightly younger sister and you tag along with Joel and Ellie even though Joel insisted you go with Tommy to Jackson.

Word Count: 1.7k

———————————————————

Autumn

Autumn rolled around pretty fast.

We had separated with Tommy almost a month ago now and you could really feel the cold beginning to seep in.

Joel had been particularly quiet this journey barly even scolding Ellie, which to you was unbelievably confusing.

You stared at the back of Joel’s head as he lead the three of you into a new town.

Ellie had decided to give him a break and ride with you for a change.

You didn’t mind, it was comforting with Ellie so close to you she was like a personal heater.

“Hey what was Tess like ?” She asked you loud enough so you could hear her but Joel couldn’t.

You drew in a shakey breath as memories came flooding in from your childhood.

“Tess was great, she was this cheerful, kind of peppy girl, especially when we were in school,” you smiled at the thought.

“See Tess was the popular girl and in turn everyone knew who I was. I was only a year behind her in school,” you explained to the girl.

You glanced back at Ellie and noticed she had a small smile on her face.

“Did she like the attention ?”

This made you laugh slightly which had Joel’s head turning around slightly to peer at the two of you.

“Liked it! She fucking loved it,” you said, your laughter dying out.

“I have no clue why though,” a small smile still eteched on your face.

Ellie smiled proud of the fact she got you to show some emotions that weren’t sadness or anger.

Ellie had noticed from the day Tess died that you had been kind of like a shell of a person and she felt guilty.

She had a feeling that you and her would get along but she just needed to break through the walls you put up.

Ellie was about to ask you another question about life before the infection, when Joel suddenly pulled his horse to a stop.

“Stop with your chit chat and go look for supplies,” he said in a short and clipped tone.

You noticed Ellie roll her eyes and mock salute him as she hopped off the horse. You quickly followed after her, after you handed Joel the reigns of your horse.

Ellie ran into a bookstore while you went into the supermarket next to it.

You quickly picked up anything you found that could be useful.

Your head whipped round when you heard Ellie call your name from the bookshop.

“Yeah?” You replied as you finished putting some food into your rucksack.

“Look,” she said as she held out a copy of a book.

You couldn’t make out the title from where you stood but when you moved forward and saw it you drew in a small breath beofore a smile spread over your face.

“Grimms’ Fairytales!” You said as you took the book out of her hands and inspected what kind of condition it was in.

“How’d you know ?” You asked her as you looked up from what was practically your childhood.

“It looked old just like you,” she said in a joking tone.

You feigned a look of hurt before smiling and looking back down at the book.

“What is it about ?” You heard Ellie ask.

You looked up and opened your mouth to answer but changed your mind halfway.

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll read you this book when we take breaks, and then you’ll find out what it’s about.”

You looked over and Ellie had the biggest smile on her face and it warmed your heart.

A sudden thought passed through your mind and it made a small smile appear.

‘ This must be what having a kid feels like’

That thought ran through your head for the next couple of days on your journey when you and Ellie would talk constantly while riding.

She would speculate what was going to happen next in the first story you started with from the collection.

Cinderella.

Joel was still very quiet but you noticed that some days he looked a bit happier than he was most.

You also noticed the amused smile that would appear briefly on his face when Ellie would make a ridiculous assumption about what would happen next.

Over the coming weeks it began to get progressively colder and you all began to search for warmer clothes when you’d stop in old QZ’s or towns.

Everything was smooth sailing until you ran into another group of hunters.

You had finally made it to Colorado and you were honestly a bit upset about the fact you’d be parting with Ellie so soon, but you hid that from her and Joel.

Walking through the science building made you feel uneasy.

That feeling only grew when you heard something on the floor above you.

“What if it’s hunters,” you said to which Joel scoffed.

“The place still looks inhabited,” you tried to argue.

He had simply brushed you off saying whoever lived there probably moved on, which in all honesty confused you because he knows hunters don’t move on from places once they settle.

So here you were shooting two guys in the face as Ellie pulled Joel up off of the rusted metal spike that had impaled his stomach.

Joel was a mess.

He could barely stand and would stumble every couple of metres before you eventually forced him to lean on you as you told Ellie to cover you both.

When you finally made it back outside you helped Joel over to his horse before he insisted he was fine.

You told Ellie to stick with Joel this time and with that the three of you took off out of Colorado and the rest was a blur to you.

You had made it a good bit away from the university and you were coming up to the outskirts of a smaller town before Joel keeled over, off of his horse.

Your mind went fuzzy and you felt yourself breathing heavily as you jumped off your horse and down beside him.

Ellie snapped you back to reality as she picked up Joel’s left arm and slung it around her own before telling you to ‘hurry the fuck up and get his right side.’

With that you snapped into action and and helped put him on the horse before walking the horse to an abandoned cabin.

You helped Ellie a good bit. While she took Joel down off the horse you went upstairs to check for infected. There were two clickers in a the kitchen that you easily took care of.

You went back down to the basement and noticed Ellie had found a mattress and pulled it down for Joel to lie on.

You stared at the man you had known since you were 34 a nauseating feeling spreading throughout you as you did. Joel was always ready to fight, but now just looked so weak and fragile and it scared you like nothing else ever had.

Winter

About a week had passed since you had arrived at the cabin and winter was now in full swing where the cabin was located anyways.

To say you hated being stationed in one place for too long, was an understatement.

You despised it.

You felt like a sitting duck waiting to be eaten by clickers or killed by hunters.

You had been going out on supply runs constantly refusing to let Ellie accompany you or go herself.

Which pissed her off to say the least.

But you knew better.

Joel would have your head if he found out you let her out alone.

You were doing everything in your power to protect the two of them.

Making sure Ellie had food in the morning and evening and making sure Joel got some form of medicine everyday.

It was incredibly difficult to come by but you found a couple of abandoned lodges that had some Penicillin in them.

While you were were on your way back you bumped into a small group of hunters.

You easily picked them off silently before you headed back.

Once you got back you went straight for the basement and injected the antibiotics into Joel’s stitched up wound.

Joel seemed to be better the next morning and that put your mind at ease. You were expecting to be back on the road soon enough.

But what you didn’t anticipate was the fact that you were tracked.

You told Ellie to stay with Joel, that you’d get rid of them and you’d be back soon.

But when you never came back Ellie got worried and followed after your tracks only to find Callus dead.

So instead she just followed after the trail of dead bodies you left behind.

You couldn’t really remember much.

You were taking out one guy and then you somehow ended up battered and bruised on the floor, in a place you didn’t recognise.

You didn’t know how long you were there or when the man with the baseball bat finally stopped hitting you and disappeared.

Voices barely registered in your mind. You thought you heard Ellie but you could’ve just been hallucinating due to the concussion.

What you did recognise though was Joel’s voice.

You swore you heard him yell your name but it was too hard to tell since you were in and out of consciousness.

You felt a pair of warm arms embrace you. You tried to focus on something, anything when you could faintly hear Joel.

“C’mon darlin stay with me,” his voice sounded far away but you knew it belonged to the person holding you.

You forced your eyes open much to the begrudgement of the rest of your body.You realised your right eye was swollen and could barely open but through your left you could see the face belonging to a worried Joel hovering above you.

“You’re okay,” you mustered up as you looked at the man above you.

Joel’s expression softened and he chuckled, “don’t you be worryin’ bout me darlin,” he said softly.

You smiled before turning your head towards his body and closing your eyes.

He let out a breath of relief before picking you up and getting Ellie before walking out of wherever you were.

Before you faded out of consciousness, the last thing you heard was Joel’s voice.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”

Authors Note: Hey hoped you enjoyed this for now it’s a two shot but I don’t know how I’m leaving the second chapter so there could be a part 3. But again hoped you enjoyed ❣️

[tsaiko]

Wip Wednesday

Undertale. Mentions of character death. Trauma. Unfinished.

***

Halloween was one of those things that the kid left behind. They had spoken to several monsters about it after the last RESET – in between murdering random monsters of course – and the idea had taken root in the Underground. Monsters had already known about pumpkins. Some of them had tried growing them years ago. They tasted terrible, and so they'd soon given up. With the realization that pumpkins were meant to be carved, not eaten, they had resurged in popularity.

Sans wasn't sure how he felt about the whole thing. On one hand, everyone was pretty certain that they were not going to make it to the surface. There'd been a rash of monsters falling down right after Toriel had peacefully abdicated the throne. The revolution had fizzled out and there was not a lot left to give monsters hope. Halloween at least gave them something to look forward to.

On the other hand, Halloween had turned from a holiday of candy and costumes and carved pumpkins, into a way to remember the dead. Sans didn't need a holiday for that. He would carry around the empty spot in his soul that Papyrus use to fill for the rest of his life.

They didn't get many trick-or-treaters out in the Ruins. Some made the journey to pay respect to Toriel. Others did it to play tricks. Some of the tricks were hilarious enough that they could make Sans laugh despite everything. Halloween was one of the few times he interacted with anyone besides Toriel.

So Sans wasn't really surprised when there was a knock on the door to Toriel's home. Toriel was in the kitchen making dinner. While she cooked, Sans was on candy duty. He got up from the table where he'd been playing a game of solitaire, grabbed the bowl, and answered the door.

There was a skeleton monster at the door.

Papyrus was dead.

There was a skeleton monster at the door wearing Papyrus's body.

He watched him die. Once. Twice. A dozen times.

There was a skeleton monster at the door wearing Papyrus's body and a pumpkin for a head.

He never saved him. Not once. Papyrus wouldn't have wanted him to. Papyrus would have wanted to have died for his belief. That was what Sans had told himself while he stood by and watched his brother die.

The worst part was that the monster, whoever they were, had scraped a likeness of Papyrus's face into the pumpkin's flesh. They had completely carved out the eyes. There were no eyelights. There was nothing, nothing but darkness in those eyes. Sans felt his face freeze into a rictus grin.

"SANS. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HARD IT WAS TO FIND YOU." They even sounded like Papyrus. Maybe a bit different. In fact, they sounded like if someone Papyrus was speaking from the inside of a very large gourd. "I HAD TO ASK MULTIPLE MONSTERS BEFORE I FOUND ONE THAT DIDN'T RUN AWAY SCREAMING. THE PUMPKIN HEAD DEFINITELY HELPED WITH THAT."

Sans did the only thing he could do in this situation. He closed the door right in their face.

"SANS!"

There'd been monster last year that had dressed up as the kid, covered in blood and clutching a fake knife they'd found in the dump. Sans had almost dusted them with a blaster. The only reason he hadn't was because the monster kid had cowered down, which had shocked Sans enough that he'd taken a second look. Toriel had come running at the sound, had quickly herded Sans into the kitchen, and then had read the monster kid the right act.

There was a lot of meanness in the Underground since the kid had left. That happened when hope dropped as low as it had. Not a day went by that Sans wasn't glad he'd told them to never come back. Toriel would be heartbroken if she ever found out what Sans had said, but Sans just couldn't trust himself not to put a knife in the kid's back if he saw them again.

It looked like that meanness was back again this year. Someone had thought it would be funny to dress up like Papyrus. With a pumpkin head. The absolute ridiculousness of the whole situation was the only thing keeping Sans from having a nervous breakdown in the doorway.

"Toriel," he called from the front of the house, setting the candy bowl down carefully on the floor. "I need you to take care of a situation at the front door. I'm going to my room."

"A situation?" Toriel asked. Sans didn't reply. Just kept walking. He was going to get into bed, pull the blankets over his head, and pretend that the entire incident hadn't happened.

Like always. Inaction was his best reaction.

[wayward-mikaelson]

Winter’s Doll--Chapter One

Word Count: 3105

About: A new recruit joins the team

Characters: Nadia “Nadie” Alekiev, Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Nikola Alekiev, Wanda Maximoff, Vision, Bucky Barnes, 

Pairing: None

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Language, a little bit of angst, mention of death, flashback

A/N: There are some Bulgarian phrases such as Baba (grandmother)...,I used google to help me with these, and if I messed something up and you are familiar with these phrases please let me know. I am trying to just keep it simple since my character has Bulgarian background but isn’t fluent with the language except for a few phrases. 

*This work contains content meant for the 18 and up crowd.

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Today was the day and Nadia Alekiev wasn’t nearly awake enough to take on the day. She was going to need all the caffeine she could get her hands on. Nadia had been awake since two in the morning wrecked with nerves and excitement. Maybe even fear, since this was such a huge step for Nadia. Every meditation technique she tried, it wouldn’t help her go back to sleep. So Nadia spent her time going over her ‘New Recruit’ packet. The packet was actually a binder that was super detailed. Whoever wrote it really wanted to make sure the reader knew what they were getting into.

Nadia was only allowed to pack one small suitcase of clothes and personal belongings. Everything else, would be boxed up by agents and donated while her small apartment would be listed as a safe house. Something that was hard for Nadia to agree to but, she had been trying to get into the Avenger program for two nearly years. So, she reluctantly signed it all over. Anything to get into the program, right?

As Nadia pulled a decent sized suitcase from her closet, a small shoe box fell to the floor. The contents spilled to the floor. Smiling ever so small, Nadia picked it up and stuffed the small contents back into the box. Nadia almost forgot that she had it stashed up there. It would now be accompanying her to the compound where she would now be living. The box was all Nadia had left of her dead brother.

Right on schedule, a knock came at her door. Zipping up the suitcase and slinging a bag over her shoulder, Nadia took one final look around her apartment before opening the door. This place had been her home for the last decade and had so many happy and painful memories.

When Nadia opened the door there stood a woman with shoulder length red hair and a serious look on her face. “Nadia Alekiev?” she asked, her green eyes were impossible to read. Her voice was professional yet slightly intimidating.

“That’s me,” Nadia gave a small smile shifted on her feet. She hoped to feel less intimidated by the woman standing in front of her.

“I’m Natasha, I’ll be taking you back to the compound while these two gentlemen,” Natasha gestured to two men dressed in black and wearing super dark sunglasses. They, too, were also intimidating. “Take care of the rest of your apartment. Shall we get going?” Down to business, Nadia thought. She nodded.

Natasha lead Nadia to a nice black SUV where the window tinting was just about almost illegal. Placing the suitcase in the backseat of the vehicle, Nadia got into the front seat and buckled in tightly. Natasha looked like one of those women that have a heavy foot.

Once on the road, the nerves started back up again. Nadia crossed her ankles and began to twiddle her thumbs. From the corner of her eye she saw Natasha’s green eye’s zero in on her actions. Nadia crossed her arms over her chest and stared out at the road in front of her. She hoped the nerves would calm down. She felt Natasha’s expression on her get hard and her eyebrows furrow.

“How much sleep did you get?” Natasha’s voice was soft. It helped Nadia relax some.

“Not much,” Nadia replied. “Is it that obvious?” she then asked looking toward the woman at the wheel.

Natasha quickly flashed a questionable like smile her way. There was also a sparkle in her eyes. “It’s my job to notice just about everything in my surroundings, Ms. Alekiev.”

Nadia looked down and started to twiddle your fingers again. Great, she thought, my first day and I look tired as fuck. She watched as her fingers played with each other taking her diamond-ruby ring off her finger and putting it back on and repeating the action again. The ring was given to her by her brother before his death.

“Can I ask you a question?” Natasha’s voice had Nadia look up. “With experience like yours, you would have had no issues getting into any program. Why the two years?”

Nadia turned her head back toward the red head. “Experience like mine?” She asked.

“I’ve seen your file,” Natasha gave a fast look at Nadia then her gaze snapped back to the highway in front of her. “You could have gone anywhere. Why the top?”

Nadia took a deep breath and straightened up. No one asked her that questions before. Not even during the brutal interview process she had endured the week before. She licked her lips before responding. “I believe I have a skill set that is worthy to help out the Avengers. I have combat experience and I am quick on my feet.” And my brother died two years ago in a bombing that had the military discharging me faster than anything without reason, Nadia wanted to say. But she didn’t think that something that personal would have mattered.

What happened next, was fast.

From the corner of Nadia’s eye, she saw Natasha’s free hand snap from her lap. Nadia’s instincts kicked into hyper drive. She twisted the upper half of her body to grab Natasha’s hand. She bends it back, causing her to drop the guns she had drew. Nadia picked up the gun and pointed it at Natasha’s head. The SUV hadn’t even swerved an inch off the road.

“Good, you are quick on your feet,” Natasha said calmly. “Well, quick to think on your ass.” She gave a sly smirk. “I like you.”

Nadia did lower the weapon in her hand. “What the fuck?! So that was a test?” she asked, her voice rose an octave. The adrenaline was acing through her veins and her heart beat a million times a second. “I could have shot you!”

Natasha’s teeth flashed when she smiled at her confused passenger. “But you didn’t and you passed.” Nadia lowered the weapon and slowly handed it back the woman in the driver seat. If she wasn’t a wake before, she sure was now.

They arrived at the compound twenty minutes later. Nadia was still on her adrenaline high while her entire stomach was being attacked by butterflies. At least she hoped it was butterflies. Nadia slid out of the vehicle and looked at the huge building in front of her. This was actually happening, she thought. I’m finally here. She pulled her suitcase from the back and followed Natasha inside the front doors.

“Welcome,” a voice said coming from the left. Nadia stopped in her tracks and watched as Captain America, himself, approached them. Wearing a dark tactical suit that defined his muscles better than his normal tact suit. Then the beard he had almost took up his face. That made Nadia weak in the knees. “You must be our newest member. Steve Rogers.” Steve held his hand out and Nadia took it and gave the super soldier a firm handshake. Oh thank God, she thought, I didn’t pass out.

“Nadia Alekiev,” she replied. “This place looks incredible.” Nadia gestured to the whole room around them.

“It is pretty amazing is it?” Steve crossed his arms. The muscles began to pull at the seams of his tact suit. “I’ll let Agent Romanov show you to your room. We have a meeting at noon in the conference room. Don’t be late.” With that Steve walked away leaving Nadia and Natasha alone.

“Alright,” Natasha motioned for Nadia to follow her again. “Let’s get you to your room. You can rest up and shower there. I’ll come back for you at eleven forty-five to show you where the conference room is. There will also be food and coffee there. Something Steve had done to make sure the team showed up.”

Natasha lead Nadia down to the living quarters and showed her around. It was furnished beautifully with nice furniture that looked like it cost hundreds of dollars. The kitchen and dining area was huge as well. In the far off left corner of the dining area was a fully stocked bar. Complete with bar counter and bar stools. Nadia already saw herself sitting there on the rough days.

“Food is first come and first serve, unless it’s marked down with a name,” Natasha said as she kept walking. Nadia was almost having a hard time keeping up with her as Natasha walked fast and with purpose. “Now here,” She continued back into the large living room. “This is where we all gather for Steve’s boring historical movie nights or Tony’s last minute game nights or whatnot. To the right, are the women’s rooms and to the left are the mens rooms.”

Before Nadia could get a word out, Natasha started her way towards the women’s rooms. “Um, Agent Romanov,” saying her name felt weird coming out of her mouth.

“Please, call me Natasha,” Natasha didn’t look back.

“Okay, Natasha, is the separation to help from other team members from sleeping with each other or something?” The moment Nadia asked that question, Natasha stopped at a room and unlocked it.

“Sort of,” Natasha pushed open the door and looked back at Nadia. “Not since Vision though. He walks through just about anything. But we keep our side cleaner than the boys. Unless your Steve. Steve’s sort of a neat freak. Now,” Natasha gestured into the room. “This will be your room. You have your own personal full bathroom. Bed is made of memory foam. Those guys from your apartment will be by later today to drop off whatever they could fit into a few boxes.”

Nadia’s head snapped towards the red head. “I thought I couldn’t have that stuff anymore? Fury told me nothing more than a bag or two.”

Natasha smiled. “Lucky, you have a team member like me who can pull strings and put the fear of God into anyones eyes.” The look in Natasha’s eyes had Nadia making a mental note to not get Natasha’s bad side. “Alright, this is where I leave you. Shower, relax, I’ll be by to get you at eleven forty-five.” With that, Natasha left Nadia in her room, closing the door behind her.

Nadia looked around at the lightly furnished room. It was very modern with some paintings here and there. It left a lot of room for personal decorating. Nadia wondered what of her belongings would make it and which ones wouldn’t. A lot of personal things Nadia owned were stored at her parents farm house. Gosh, Nadia thought, I haven’t spoken to my parents in almost a year.

Nadia set her things on the bed before checking out the bathroom. It was slightly bigger than her old bathroom at her apartment. The bathtub was separate from the shower. Something Nadia liked a lot since she wasn’t much of bath type of person. The cabinets were stock with top of the line towels and when Nadia touched them, they were softer than anything she had touched before.

Stripping down, Nadia decided to try out the shower. She flipped the water on and adjusted the temperature to what she liked. The pressure of the water hit her skin just right. It was super relaxing. Nadia slide down and sat with her knees to her chest. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

***

“I’m not going anywhere,” Nadia said to her brother as she peeked out the window. “I’m staying here until you can prove that what you said is right.”  

“When I have ever said anything that wasn’t true?” her brother looked up from the computer he was trying to get into. “Aside from the time I had you convinced you were actually speaking Bulgarian.”

“I still don’t forgive you for that one, Nikola,” Nadia gave a teasing smirk. “Baba look so confused as I tried to tell her about my runaway turtle.”

Nikola laughed. “Baba wanted to have Mom’s head on a platter because her grandchildren weren’t well versed in the Bulgarian language.”

Nikola went back to work on to hacking into computer in front of him. He had to prove to his sister that the government that they had signed their lives over to were selling off elite soldiers to underground domestic terrorist groups. Nikola knew that once he and Nadia had that information it would be time to fall off the radar and run.

“Nadie,” Nikola called his sister by her nickname. Nadia didn’t know that night it would be last she heard it. “If anything were to happen tonight, I need you to know that I am right about all of this.”

***

Nadia woke up in the shower. The water was still hot, but one look at her fingertips, Nadia knew that she had been in the shower longer than she should have been. Turning the water off and grabbing a towel, Nadia wrapped herself up and walked out into your room. You saw the clock on the wall, eleven thirty.

“Wow,” Nadia spoke to herself. “I was in there for a few hours.” She unzipped her suitcase, pulled out a decent shirt and jeans and threw them on. Then she quickly brushed through her hair and threw it up into a hair band. By the time she was finished, it was eleven forty-five. Perfect timing.

Nadia made her way towards the door and when she opened it there stood Natasha. “Very impressive,” she said smirking. “I also see that you got some rest. How do you feel?”

Nadia followed Natasha through the living quarters back to the main part of the compound. “Better than this morning to be honest,” Nadia said as she was now able to keep up with Natasha.

The two of them walked into the conference room. Three of the four walls were all glass, but not just any kind of glass, the strong kind that would most likely need a tank missile to break it. Just like Natasha had said earlier, there sat coffee on at a small coffee bar. Nadia went straight towards it poured herself a cup.

As she turned around she saw some people make their way into the room. They grabbed their coffee or food. Nadia recognized Tony Stark, as we took three muffins from the food tray and at at the table. A ginger haired woman saw Nadia and smiled at her as she patted the spot next to her. Nadia made her way over to the woman and sat next to her.

“I’m Wanda,” the woman said. “You must be Nadia.”

“How?” Nadia started to ask until she heard the chair next to her move and somebody occupy it.

“Wanda, here, she can read minds and move things with her mind and do this weird red light thingy.” It was a male. “It scares me sometimes, honestly. I’m Clint, the bow and arrow guy.” He reached his hand out and Nadia shook it.

“Weren’t you supposed to be heading home back to your family?” Wanda asked raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that was until Cap said I needed to stay until after the meeting and now I see why,” Clint took a bite of his muffin.

Nadia smiled some and turned to see Steve walk in, he had changed into a dark t-shirt and jeans. The person who walked in with him was just slightly taller than him. His hair was shoulder length and Nadia couldn’t help but notice that his left arm was completely made of metal. The way he smiled and nodded when Steve said something had Nadia mesmerized.

When he turned away from Steve his eyes locked with Nadia’s. His bright, clear blue eyes stared into her dark brown eyes. The smile that had been on his face, slowly faded as he lost himself in her look. Nadia felt like her breathing caught in her chest when this mans eyes slowly looked her over. Steve then tapped the mans shoulder and said something to him and he made his way to an empty chair. The man looked again at Nadia who gave him a small smile before looking down at the coffee that sat in front of her.

“Okay,” Steve’s voice was loud and firm. “As you all know, we recruited a new team member. Some of you already met her already or saw her as you walked in. She’s ex-military, special ops. Very well versed in hand to hand combat.”

“She’s also very quick to think,” Natasha threw in. Nadia thought back to when Natasha drew a gun on her earlier that day.

“Nat, please tell me you didn’t,” Steve’s voice trailed off and Nadia looked up to see him with a hand over his face. Nadia also didn’t miss that the man next to Steve still looked at her.

“Oh I did,” Natasha said. “She passed that part. Now to see her in a combat like situation.” Natasha leaned her arms on the table and her green eyes looked deep in Nadia’s.

“Okay, well, “Steve shuffled the papers in front of him then looked up at Nadia. “Avengers, this is Nadia Alekiev. Nadia, this is the team. Now, since today is a free day, we won’t have you show off your skill set.” Steve looked at Clint and then back at Nadia, “Well, maybe two hours with Clint before he goes.” Nadia saw Clint throw his head back next to her.

“Alright,” Clint finished his muffin. “But you owe my kids a laser tag game.”

“And I,” Nadia eyed Tony Stark getting up from his seat to snag more muffins from the counter. “I will have Pepper arrange a nice little welcoming party for Miss Alexis.”

“Alekiev, Mr. Stark.” Nadia said as she straightened her back. “I know it’s hard to pronounce, you can thank my Bulgarian parents for that. Next time just call me Nadie.”

“Mmm,” Tony looked over at Steve was eyeing the situation. Tony looked back at Nadia and took a bite of the muffin in his hands. “You know what,” he said with his mouth full. “I’m going to call you Alexis from now.”

“We’ll see how long that lasts,” Nadia rose an eye brow and smirked at Tony. Tony gave a small huff and walked out. Nadia followed with her eyes and didn’t miss the attractive small smile on the man with the metal arm who still looked at her.

Steve ended the meeting shortly after that. Clint stood up and with his hands on his hips he said “Let’s get this over with or my wife will find a way to kick my ass.”