#I want to get something like the sets of drawers my uncle uses for screws and washers

[staffatemyblog]

Give me opportunity for minimalism and I will kill it with clutter and color. My room was driving me crazy while it was empty, I'm so happy to have it (mostly) put back together now

[clandonnachaidh]

Light Across The Seas That Sever (Ch4)

AO3

When he woke the next morning in Amsterdam, his feeling of utter contentment quickly gave way to dread as his hand eagerly searched the space in the bed beside him only to find it empty. Immediately, his eyes snapped opened and he looked around the room for her, for his Claire.

His heart sank at the sight.

The twin bed that she had slept in for the night prior to the one they shared was made, her suitcase gone from its spot by the door. He stumbled as he got out of bed, his limbs not quite awake yet as he burst through the bathroom door and he noticed that her things were gone. It was as if she’d never been there.

If not for the taste of her still on his lips, he’d have wondered if he’d dreamt the whole thing.

He spun around the room in a flurry, unsure of what he was looking for or what he planned on doing once he found it.

Then his eyes fell on the slip of paper that sat on the windowsill, the sun casting its rays down on her pen strokes.

I can’t bring myself to wake you. I have to catch my flight. I’ll let you know when I land in Boston.

Jamie’s heart clenched in his chest and he used the palm of his hand to rub at his sternum without thought. He knew that she was gone. He cursed himself for being such a deep sleeper, wished that he’d had the awareness to know that she had been moving around the room silently, packing her things to leave. But in the afterglow of their love making, having released tension and anticipation that had been building inside of him for years, sleep had taken him down and down until he was oblivious to the world. The last thing he remembered was the ghost of her fingertips on his cheekbone and his jaw as he whispered to her once in his mother tongue, the language of his heart that he knew she didn’t understand but hoped that she could feel the meaning of, before falling into a deep sleep.

“Mo ghaol ort, mo Sorcha.”

He had to find her, had to make her understand that he loved her and had loved her since the moment he saw her. Scrambling into the same clothes from the day before, he tore out of the hotel, not caring that they’d charge him for another night when he would inevitably miss check-out. He rushed to the train station and bought a direct ticket to Schiphol, his shaking fingers calling her repeatedly and his heart falling every time it went to her voicemail.

He left his third message, laying his heart out for her to hear, “Claire, please just answer the phone. Talk to me. I winna ask ye to do anything ye dinna want to do but I have to say it, Claire. And I refuse to say it on your bloody voicemail so answer yer phone, tell me where ye are. I’m on my way to the airport. I’m coming to find you.”

Once he arrived, he pushed his way past the crowds of holiday goers, businessmen in their suits and parents trying to corral their children into order. Suddenly thankful for the view that his height gifted him, he searched frantically for any sign of her. He’d found her flight on the departures board and raced to the terminal, praying to God that something had delayed her and she hadn’t had time to make it through security yet. The panic bubbled in his chest as he began to breathe heavily, black dots appearing in his vision. It took everything in him not to simply start shouting her name in the hope that it would bring her to him.

A furious hysteria was beginning to claw its way into his nervous system, controlling the frantic jerks of his long limbs that felt too heavy for him to carry. He dialled her number again and was astonished when she answered.

“Jamie,” she whispered and he felt his heart shatter at the pain in her voice. “Oh, my Jamie.”

“Claire, where are ye? What were ye thinking running off without saying goodbye?” His voice sounded desperate and angry as he spun on the spot, knowing that the compass in his heart that always navigated him to her side would point him in the right direction. Still, his eyes weren’t able to land on her. “Damn it, Claire, tell me where ye are!”

He heard her let out a sob.

“I’m at my gate. You won’t be able to get through.”

Unable to remain upright at her confession, he slumped against the wall beside him and let his head hang, releasing tears that he had been keeping at bay from the moment he had realised that she had left. He cried with her, not caring if people saw.

“Why did ye do this?”

“I couldn’t stand to say goodbye.”

“Claire, I lo-“

“Don’t,” she cried softly, only speaking when he went to say it again. “I’m begging you, don’t say it. If you care for me at all, don’t make this harder.”

He restrained himself from driving his fist into the cement and pushed his forehead against it as his fingers gripped his phone tighter in his hand.

“I canna believe ye weren’t going to say goodbye,” he whispered with a voice full of hurt and not devoid of anger. “Do ye regret it? Last night?”

Her answer came out in a burst, “No. No, I don’t regret it. But you’re my friend. My best friend and with everything changing… I’m going to need my best friend.”

“Yer being selfish, Claire. To give me hope last night and then to pull it out from underneath me, to leave me wi’out breath,” the words were spilling out of him, not caring if he hurt her. She had hurt him well enough.

“Jamie, I thought-“

“No, ye didna think at all. Only of yerself getting to have a wee bit of fun before running off and settling down a whole fuckin’ ocean away.”

With a man who’s not me, he thought.

The line went quiet apart from the gentle sound of her crying and the odd ragged breath that he drew into his lungs to try and settle his racing mind. He screwed his eyes shut and banged his head lightly against the wall.

“Claire, forgive me, I- fuck, I just dinna ken what tae do.”

“They’re calling my gate, I have to go,” she whispered.

“Please, I didna mean it, I was sore and said more than I meant,” he desperately tried to explain himself.

“I’ll let you know when I land. Goodbye Jamie.”

“Claire—”

When she hung up the phone, he sat on the floor and went to pieces. An hour passed before he was able to bring himself together enough to make his way back to the hotel, gather his things and get his own flight back home. With one look at him, standing on the steps of Lallybroch with the spirit of a broken man, Jenny set her mouth in a straight line. In a feat that would’ve astounded Jamie had he the energy to care, she kept her words to herself and brought him a bottle of whisky as he sat in front of the fireplace, somehow managing to keep her children from pestering their uncle. He spent days moping around the estate, barely speaking a word but she made sure that he knew that when he did want to talk, Jenny Murray would be there to listen.

It was two weeks after Claire had left that Jamie heard from her. It was early evening and he had just punished himself with a 10km run around Lallybroch’s grounds, thinking that if his muscles were screaming in pain then he might get some distraction from the dull ache that had set up shop in his chest. The minute he stepped into the hot stream of the shower, his phone pinged with a message. How he would kick himself afterwards that he hadn’t given it a cursory glance because when he exited the bathroom ten minutes later, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him when he saw it.

Sassenach: Message

He opened it greedily, desperate to receive any sort of contact since the painful last phone call that would play on a loop in his mind every night as he lay in bed, sleep evading him.

It was a picture of a bouquet of flowers, a huge arrangement made of foliage and sea holly, thistles and white calla lilies that he knew were her favourite. He’d spent more time than he’d like to admit picking out the perfect flowers for her and knew exactly which bottle of whisky to put in with it (the one that they’d drank together the night that he’d teased her that she had no friends before she replied with a blinding smile and said the words ‘I have you’). She had photographed them prettily displayed on a windowsill that was drenched in sunlight. Underneath she had simply written the words ’Thank you!’ and he realised that he had forgotten that he’d even arranged for the gift to be sent. It was meant be a moving in present, a little reminder of home and the people that she’d left. Now it seemed sad and it made Jamie and his bruised ego feel a bit pathetic.

But it was a start, a small plaster on the gaping hole that was their friendship but one that he was determined to improve on. Anything to keep her in his life, in whatever capacity. He replied to her message with hopes of her having had an easy move, asking whether she was settled in yet. Claire replied almost instantly and so begun the back and forth, both of them trying to be painfully normal as Jamie paced in his bedroom, naked as the day he was born and dripping water all over the floorboards.

When he slipped on a puddle of his own making, he chucked his phone back onto the bed and set to rummaging amongst the old clothing in his drawers in an attempt to find something clean. He really needed to help out around the house more, he thought. Jenny had been rushing around after a husband, two children and now her brother and she deserved better. He had started to deal with the pile of unwashed material that had accumulated on the floor by his bed when he heard his phone ring.

Without even looking, he accepted the call.

“Aye?”

“Hi! It’s Claire!”

As if she needed to tell him that. The minute that he heard her voice he felt like he could breathe that little bit easier for the first time since being in that fucking airport, the gentle lilt of her English accent making him picture the shapes that her lips made. The memory of it stabbed him in the gut and he took a calming breath, turning from his discomfort into the humour that they both teased each other with.

“Sorry whoever ye are, I dinna ken anyone with a Boston accent, ye must hae the wrong number.”

“Asshole,” she snorted. “I sound exactly the same as I always have. It’s… it’s good to hear your voice.”

He smiled into the phone, letting his voice soften and convey the sincerity of his words, “Aye, Sassenach, it’s good to hear yours too.”

An hour or so later, when Jenny Murray went up to her brother’s room to let him know that dinner was on the table, the sound of her brother laughing halted her hand just before she knocked. For the past fortnight, Jamie had been dour, sullen and more prone to tantrums than Wee Jamie and Maggie put together. Getting the two of them fed tonight had been a battle, Ian trying his best to wrangle a teething Maggie as Jenny had an entire bowl of mince and tatties spilled down her front by her son. It had been a tiring night but now, the two wee ones were in bed and her brother was laughing again. Her heart lifted at the thought and she sent a prayer of thanks up to her parents for giving him a bit of a reprieve from his heartbreak.

“Sassenach, ye ken fine well…”

As soon as she heard him say it, she spun herself from Jamie’s door, cursing under her breath about her eejit brother who didn’t know what was good for him and definitely not what was bad for him. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Claire, in fact she had been glad knowing that there was someone to look out for Jamie when he’s was away at university. Jenny always knew that her younger brother was more green behind the ears than he was willing to admit. When he had nonchalantly mentioned that he’d be bringing home a friend for the summer of his first year at university, Jenny had pulled Claire into a hug on the steps of Lallybroch, welcoming her with literal open arms and finding Claire to be a quick witted, intelligent woman but with a softness behind her eyes that Jenny hoped would lend her to being a good friend to her brother. The problem, Jenny quickly realised the first night they’d all sat down to dinner together, was that Jamie had fallen head over heels in love with her.

She tried her hardest to lighten her step as she made her way back into the kitchen, knowing that she would not react kindly to any teasing about her ‘stomping’ around the house. Instead Jenny took out her frustration on the chicken curry that was bubbling on the stove, whirling the wooden spoon around with a little more force than was needed.

“Did I miss saying goodnight tae the bairns?” Jamie’s voice rumbled against the stone walls of the kitchen, pulling her attention away from the storm cloud that was brewing in her stomach as she plated up for herself, his large frame appearing over her shoulder. “Smells fine.”

As the full plate slammed down on the countertop, Jamie frowned in confusion as Jenny turned, her hands set at her hips in a way that still put the fear of God in him.

He took a step backwards (out of her reach if she decided to brandish the spoon at him), his eyebrows raised along with a single hand. Jamie knew from experience that it was better to pip her to the post before she got into the swing of an argument, “Before ye say anything, I want tae apologise first.”

“And just what will ye be apologisin’ for this time, mo bhràthair?”

“For treatin’ this place as a hotel, havin’ ye run after me like I’m one of yer bairns,” he had the foresight to look genuinely penitent and it softened her a bit. “I promise ye I’ll start pullin’ my weight.”

“Well, I canna say that I disagree wi’ ye. And I’ll be thankful of the help, Ian was just sayin’ the west gate needs mending. About time ye bucked up and started helpin’ wi’ the jobs around here,” she said firmly. Jamie’s eyes narrowed in at her face, confused. He’d apologised before she even asked but there was clearly something still there that he hadn’t addressed, that she was expecting him to bring up.

“Is there somethin’ else?” He asked carefully, fighting the urge to pull up the door to the priest hole that he was standing on in an attempt to hide from her wrath.

Instead, she sighed and handed a second plate to him. Her hands went from her hips to the table in front of her as she manoeuvred herself to sit. He followed her lead and sat down across from her, watching closely as she began to eat after expelling another pregnant sigh.

“Will ye give me a hint as to what I’ve done tae piss ye off?” He grumbled as he began to eat himself, trying his hardest not to cower as she sent him a death glare from across the table. Suddenly, the space between her brows furrowed and she let the weight of her head slump into an upturned palm.

“I’m worried about ye, Jamie. I’m always worried about ye but still,” she said in a quiet voice.

“I ken I’ve no’ been out of my room much and I’ve been a right miserable sod. But I’m starting to feel better… I think.”

Jenny narrowed her eyes at him, trying hard not to let the judgement seep in as she quickly placed her hand over the top of his, rolling her eyes when he jumped at the sudden contact.

“I think ye should stay away for a while. She’s in Boston wi’ Frank and havin’ tae adjust to her new life, ye should give her the space to do it.”

Realising that she’d overheard their phone call, Jamie shifted uncomfortably in his seat, fighting the urge to pull his hand from underneath hers as she tightened her grip.

“She was just phonin’ to say thanks for the flowers,” he mumbled, spooning a large helping of his dinner with his free hand into his mouth to try and shut down any need for a further explanation. Sadly, his big sister wasn’t buying it.

“I ken that yer finding it difficult, mo bhràthair, but maybe this is the opportunity tae find someone. Someone who’ll have ye. Ye’ve pined for Claire for so long but she’s never—“

“We slept together. In Amsterdam.”

The words hung in the space between the two siblings, heavy as lead. Jamie had felt the twist of his stomach at saying the words out loud and shot a glance to his sister’s dumbfounded face as the information permeated her thoughts.

“Ye glaikit bastard,” she finally exhaled softly, earning herself a sad smirk from her brother. “Why would ye dae that tae yerself?”

Jamie shrugged his shoulders, “It seemed… it felt like the right thing to do in the moment. And then I woke up the next morning and she was already gone. Chased her to the airport an’ aw but I was too late.”

Jenny huffed again, leaning back in her chair.

“I just thought if I could tell her that I loved her, that I’m in love wi’ her, maybe she’d have stayed. But she didn’t let me say it.”

“Aye, sounds like Claire,” Jenny scoffed, quickly composing herself at the glare she received. “Suppose it makes mare sense for all the mopin’ ye’ve been doing.”

Jamie humphed and rubbed a hand roughly over his face, sinking his fingers through his hair.

“It’s fine, it’s done and I canna change it, wouldn’t change it anyway. It was a very special night for me.”

“I ken but, Jamie, she is gone. She has made her choice. And it’s coorse of her to dangle herself in front of ye when she’s away living her life and yer here, where she left ye.”

His bright blue eyes bore into her, a warning, “Careful, Janet. Claire is my friend and I wilna let her navigate this on her own—“

“She’s nae on her own, she’s wi’ Frank!”

“Aye, she is. And there’s fuck all I can dae about it so this is where I find myself. I wilna let my feelings get the better of me. I will be her friend, as I have been these past years.”

Jenny knew that there was no point in pushing. It was a Fraser family trait, digging your heels in, more often than not to your own detriment. And if there was one topic that Jamie wouldn’t budge on, it was Claire. She got to her feet and grabbed her plate, moving around the table to press a single kiss into the mop of his red hair before leaving the room.

“Ca canny, mo bhràthair.”

[believinghurts]

Aurora Black-Lupin

Relationship: Percy Weasley x Aurora Black-Lupin

Warnings: Panic attack 

A/N: I thought about making this a series, but I’m not a 100% sure yet. This would be the first part. Let me know what you think. The story would follow the daughter of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, and her relationship with Percy Weasley, the Golden Trio, and her family. Feedback is always welcome! Requests are open!! Message me to be added to me taglist!!

Taglist: @thesweethufflepuff

The World with You

Aurora (Rory) Black-Lupin sat on her bathroom floor staring in disbelief at the two little pink lines on all four of the muggle pregnancy tests she had taken. Pregnant. She was without a doubt pregnant. The sickness started about a week and half after her missed period. She had hoped that it was a coincidence and that she was just coming down with a bug and her period had decided to just be irregular for that month, but when Hermione said that she thought Rory might have been pregnant after she explained her symptoms to her, she knew that she needed to take the test. Which is how she ended on the floor with tears streaming down her face as her best friend rubbed circles on her back trying to calm her down. 

“It’ll be okay, Ro.” Hermione whispered. 

Rory curled into her friend's side, “How? We have never even talked about kids. We are both on the younger side, what if he wanted to wait? How am I even going to tell him this?” 

The thoughts running in her head made her cry even harder. What if Percy didn’t want children? They both were young still; her only nineteen and Percy twenty-three. What if he called off their engagement? What if he was disappointed that she had screwed up all the plans that they had talked about? She placed a hand on her lower abdomen, with all the thoughts of Percy leaving there was one that was sticking out in her mind like it had flashing lights on it. She wanted this baby. 

She knew first hand how hard it was for some people to have children. Her fathers were prime examples. They wanted another child, but never got there after her dad, Sirius, was wrongfully imprisoned for the murder of her late Godparents, James and Lilly Potter. Her dads loved her more than anything in the world and Remus made sure to tell her that all those nights when he was tucking her into bed by himself when she was small. Although Remus wasn’t her biological father, since she was a drunken accident that took place after Remus and Sirius had a fight, he loved her like she was his blood. Her fathers wanted a big family; Remus came from a single child household, and Sirius had a sibling, but they weren’t close at all in fact she had never even met or heard a lot about her Uncle Regulus. 

But even with the blaring thought that she wanted this baby she was still terrified about what Percy’s reaction was going to be. The thought of the disappointment that she would potentially see in his in eyes when she told him made her breathing pickup and her tears to run faster. She felt lightheaded, and like she wanted to throw up much like she had every morning for the past almost two weeks after Percy left for his job at the Ministry. 

Hermione, noticing the change in her friend's demeanor, curled her arms tighter around Aurora trying to ground her from the possible panic attack. She stroked the hair on the back of Aurora's head much like she did Harry’s after he woke up from a nightmare. The war had taken its toll on the close group of friends who were now family. Hermione had to obliviate her parents in order to protect them; Harry had lost his parents during the first war, but later found his Godfather, who was wrongfully imprisoned for twelve years, and his Godsister alone with his Uncle; Aurora got her father back, but lost her cousin, who had been an older sister to the young girl since they met, Nymphadora; and Ron nearly lost his older brother, Fred. 

The war had been over for close to two years, however the damage was done and still haunted them all to this day. The good that they all had in their lives helped balance it. Hermione was sure that this was going to be a good thing just like when Lilly Amelia Potter was born four months after Harry and Hermione’s wedding. Though convincing Rory of that could potentially be hard since she had that Black stubbornness. 

“Listen Ro, this is a good thing. You and Percy are engaged. You were already going to spend the rest of your lives together, and this topic would have come up eventually. This just sped up the process. Percy worships the ground you walk on, and you’ve seen how good he is with Lilly. You both will make great parents. And hey, if he decides to be a total arse when you tell him I’ll hex him and you can come stay with me and Harry till Percy got his shit together. But I know for a fact he won’t be, you wanna know how I know? Cause I’m Hermione Granger-Potter and I am never wrong.” 

Aurora made a sound in between a giggle and a sniffle at her friend's speech before shifting around to look at her, “But how c-can you be so sure? What if he hates the thought of having a child with me?” 

Hermione brushed some hari behind her ear, “I’m sure because I was in the same position you are now when I found out about Lilly. I was scared Harry would be mad. He had just started working as an Auror and I was working in the Ministry, and we weren’t married yet. But then I remembered he loves me and we have an army of people to help just as you do.” She gave her friend a soft smile. “So what I purpose is for us to get off the floor, wipe the tears before Percy gets home, and come up with what you are going to say.” 

Right on cue there was a ‘pop’ from the living room signalling Percy was home. The girls scrambled to their feet, hastily wiping tears, and stuffing the test into Rory’s makeup drawer. “Rory?” Percy called out into the house. 

The girls dived onto the bed trying to act as if they were just talking when Percy entered the room. If the look on his face was anything to go by they didn’t do a very good job. “Oh, hello ‘Mione. Didn’t know you were here.” 

Percy placed a kiss on Rory’s head. Her eyes met Hermione’s as the other girl gave her a small smile, “Oh well, I was just leaving actually. Just needed another adult to talk to before I went stir crazy from the baby talk and my work at home.”

Hermione called out her goodbyes before apperating away. Percy turned his attention back to Rory. “Well that was...odd?” He chuckled. His laugh trailed off as he took on Aurora's full apparence. Her eyes were red and puffy, lip slightly swollen as if she had been biting on it, and her messy dark curls. Percy knelt down in front of her, cupping her face in one hand while brushing  her hair back with another. “What’s wrong, love?” 

Rory avoided his eyes, terrified that when she uttered the life changing words he would walk away. “Percy, I have something I need to tell you.” 

“What is it? You know you can tell me anything, sweetheart.” He placed two fingers under her chin gently making her look at him. 

Rory mustered up all of the Gryffindor courage that she had before she spoke, “Perc, I’m pregnant.” 

She felt her heart fall to her stomach as his hand dropped off her face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I thought we took every precaution that we could. Please, please believe me. Please don’t leave me. I don’t know if I can do this without you.” She trailed off as tears ran down her face again harder than ever before. 

Percy sat in shock. The love of his life was pregnant with his baby. He was going to be a father. Tears gathered in his eyes that he quickly blinked away upon seeing and hearing his darling girl apologize and beg him not to leave her. “Sorry? What on Earth are you sorry for, love? And leave you? I wouldn’t leave you if someone tried to drag me away.” 

He wrapped her up in his arms. Rory sniffled confused as to why Percy was hugging her. He was happy about this baby? Percy tucked her head under his chin, rocking back and forth till all of her tears stopped. She couldn’t bring herself to leave his arms in fear that everything would fall apart if she did. Percy heard her mumble something into his chest, “Repeat for me, love?” 

“I said you aren’t mad?” she whispered again. 

He gently pushed her back off his chest. “Mad? Why would I be mad? This is great! I’ve always wanted a family of my own. Especially with you.” He bopped her on the nose eclicting a little giggle out of the girl. “I mean I was thinking we would wait a little bit, however that doesn’t matter. I am so happy, love! My baby is having a baby!” He pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. 

“I thought you would be mad….that's why Hermione was here. I didn’t know what to do and she brought me the test. I would have asked Ginny, but she can’t keep a secret.” They both laughed at that. Rory wiped her face with the sleeve of Percy’s Christmas jumper that she had on. 

Percy wrapped her back up in his arms, laying back down on the bed with her half on him. “Well, we know how I feel about this, but are you happy about it?” He whispered into her hair. 

She tucked herself further into his neck, “Honestly at first I was in shock I think. Then I was panicking about your reaction, but now that I can truthfully think about it and let it set in. I am. I’m happy this happened to us. I want this, Perc. I’m scared as hell, but we can do it.” She pressed a kiss to his collarbone. 

Percy smiled against her forehead before sliding down so that he was eye level with her stomach. Rory’s hand slid into his curls, playing with them. “Hello there darling. I’m your daddy. Me and your mum absolutely cannot wait to meet you. You are going to be the luckiest kid in the whole world because you are going to have the best mum ever.” 

He pressed a kiss to her abdomen just above her belly button before working his way back up towards her mouth. He slotted his lip with hers with such passion it made tears well in her grey-green eyes again. “Thank you.” Kiss. “You’re amazing.” Kiss. “You are to be the best mother.” Kiss. “I love you both so much.” Kiss. 

Rory smiled, “We love you, too.” 

Percy flopped down beside her, “So ‘Mione is the only person that knows right?”

“Yeah besides us.” She said absentmindedly playing with the fingers on the hand that Percy left on her stomach protectively. 

“Well, what do you say that we tell everyone this weekend about her?” He suggested. 

“Her?” Rory’s eyebrow arched at him playfully.  

Percy shot her a smile, and a wink. “Yes. Her. It’s a girl. I can feel it. Fathers intuition.” 

She let out a laugh, “I don’t think that's how it works, but okay whatever you say. I think its a boy.” 

Percy rolled his eyes at his beautiful girl, “How about we make a bet? When I’m right and it’s a girl I get to pick her first name and you her middle, and vice versa if you’re right. Which you aren’t.” 

“Okay, you’re on Weasley.” They sealed it with a kiss. “But back on topic, yeah that’s fine. It’ll be a good chance to catch everyone together.” She smirked at him with a mischievous glint in her eye that looked all too much like Sirius’s. “Including my dads.” 

Percy gulped at the thought of telling Sirius Black-Lupin, an ex Auror, and Remus Lupin, a werewolf, that he knocked up their little girl. 

[ciggylungz]

Positive

Blurb night:

1.4k words

(request: imagine you’re married to harry & you’re pregnant and you meet up with the boys and tell them and it’s just all happy and so cute🥺) + request: what about some morning cuddles? or how they communicate to everyone that they’re having a baby? sorry im soft today i need some good fluffs)

(Sorry if you didn’t want them combined they were similar so I thought it might be repetitive if I did them independently)

 -----

Trying to conceive was always a nerve-wracking trial and error process for those participating in the journey, and Harry and Y/n are no exception to those bumps in the road to starting a family.

The couple had waited till their one-year wedding anniversary to start trying for a child, making sure the marriage was going smoothly and both of them were able to devote as much attention to the child if they were to successfully fall pregnant.

The pair decided to both get exams to make sure they were fertile and another to make sure Y/n was healthy enough to carry a pregnancy, both of their results came back perfect for the two of them so you can imagine the confusion and upset they experienced when months went by without a positive pregnancy test. Harry and Y/n have been doing a lot of condoling each other, cooking comfort foods for dinners and taking their vitamins religiously to give themselves some hope, carbs and cuddles to carry them through this journey of bringing a new person into the world.

You’d think trying was the most fun part of making a baby yet months of constant sex did a number on the two. They were losing their libido, tired and sometimes sore from the constant friction on their most sensitive areas but the duo refused to give up.

__

It was a typical Thursday morning, Harry sending off emails while cramming toast into his mouth and Y/n was brushing her teeth, feeling particularly out of it that day. She was tired and sluggish, a bit queasy and just off.

By now taking a pregnancy test was part of her morning routine. She even had a designated cup next to the toilet she used to collect her first morning wee in to dip the tests in, every morning she took one just to see. She was never very good at controlling her curiosity and when it comes to something this life changing, well she just can’t stop herself.

Y/n swears her eyes nearly popped out of her head as she saw the second line, bright and bold perfectly straight next to the control line. It took a few minutes for her brain to truly comprehend the evidence in front of her, there were two lines.

She was pregnant!

After the initial shock started to fade, excitement flooded through her. A shriek of her husbands name rolled through the house prompting him to jump to his feet and rush towards the noise.

“What?! Are you okay?! Are you hurt baby? What happen-“

“Harry I’m pregnant! Look ! it worked! We’re having a baby!” Y/n held the positive test in the hair, thrusting it towards his wide eyes seeing the man shift from panic to being elated.

“Oh my god! We’re having a baby! My dick works!” Harry wrapped his arms around his wife before hoisting her in the air, spinning the both of them around while they cheered and let out happy tears.

That night the pair celebrated with a nice dinner and excitedly calling y/n’s obgyn to set up her first prenatal visit. The pair decided they’d keep their secret till they were in the clear, the first couple weeks of pregnancy are the most high risk time for miscarriage so they didn’t want to get their hopes up and let everyone know till they were sure this baby was going to make it to term.

___

 Y/n was 18 weeks along when the couple decided they were going to announce the news to their friends and family. Harry was giddy, obsessed with his wife’s tummy that was now starting to get a little curve to the lower part of it. He kept ultrasound pictures in his wallet and spend every evening reading baby books and making a list of names for their growing baby.

The first people they decided to tell was of course their mothers and siblings, it was a great experience lots of hugs, happy tears and celebration sweets. Everyone was over the moon, the couple had full hearts and tummy’s when they left Anne’s home. The couple had never felt happier in their lives.

Of course when it came to telling the news to the boys, Harry decided to whip out one of his dad jokes he’d already been hoarding in his mind. His jokes were always terrible, lets face it, but the boys loved to take the piss out of him and found his jokes entertaining now.

So, Harry invited the group over directing Louis to open the oven for him which inside was a bun- yes Y/n had to refrain from cringing at the horrible dad joke but she let him has his fun- and Louis reacted first with a confused glance to Harry. “Mate, ya’ not the best chef but I thought you’d know that cookin’ one thing at a time is a bit wasteful of the gas innit?” the man plucked the bread off the rack, handing it to Harry who was rolling his eyes since the other man didn’t seem to get the implications.

“Lou, what was in the oven?” he decided to throw him a line, the other guys just watching the interaction confused and waiting for Harry to reveal what the hell he was on about. “A roll Harold” Harry then huffed, “No! it’s a bun!”, Niall was now laughing finding the situation at hand seeing Harry getting mad over the guys not having a clue what he was trying to imply.

When the bickering filled the kitchen between the boys Y/n decided to step in- “Alright! Harry I told you the joke was rubbish, guys ‘bun in the oven’- the reference and horrible execution was a reference to me since I’m pregnant.” – only then did it click in all their heads, a chorus of ‘ohhhh’ and then excited congratulations followed. Louis of course took the chance to pick on Harry who gave him the finger before excepting the celebratory hugs and pats on the back, the boys giving Y/n a good cuddle too congratulating her on the pregnancy and telling her how excited they were to be uncles. A few making jokes to Harry about ‘getting it in’ and all that boyish banter.

The pair couldn’t be more thrilled at all the excitement that surrounded the arrival of their first born, Y/n was also happy she wouldn’t have to wear baggy clothes around them anymore either. Sweaters in august was a bit uncomfortable for a pregnant woman with hot flashes.

____

When the 20 week mark came, the couple decided to keep the gender a surprise till birth when offered the anatomy scan. They really didn’t have a preference as long as their bundle of joy was healthy, they were happy.

They had spent the last few weeks painting the nursery a pale yellow, making an accent wall with a neutral colored floral wallpaper, lots of vines and plants on it in a grey and white color theme. The room was fit for whatever gender their baby turned out to be, and it was now being filled with a crib Harry had put together- which he nearly had a breakdown over how many fucking screws and parts it had- and a nice changing table stocked with diapers, wipes and all the baby essentials.  

The little ones closet was organized by size, all hung neatly on hangers and in organized bins as well. A nice rocking chair with a little nursing station was in one of the corners, stocked with burp cloths and a nursing pillow as well as a few jars of nipple balm since breastfeeding can caused chapped skin on the breasts. They had a little dish with pacifiers sitting on the small table next to the chair, picture books and a few nice soft blankets folded on the small shelf below the drawers.

Everything was slowly but surely coming together, and now they couldn’t wait to welcome their baby into the world.

(Tbh idk if I like this one, but I tried my best.)

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

One Shot- To The Stars And Back

Intro: Steve and Katie receive a message which Tony left before his death.

Warnings: “Language!” 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: This was originally a full chapter, however I as I ended up publishing Stark Spangled Man I stripped out the flashback, and it left me with this little mini. It always sat in my head that Tony would leave personalised messages for Katie and Steve, along with the rest of his family, not just the generic one we saw at his funeral so here we are.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“Happy?” Katie frowned momentarily as the man strode into her kitchen, followed by Steve. “Wasn’t expecting to see you today, not that you’re not welcome, of course you are.” She hastily added.

“It’s okay, Kiddo, I know what you meant.” He chuckled softly “The kids not here?” “Jamie’s gone to the park with Bucky and Sam, and Emmy’s taken Lucky for a walk.” She answered. “Why, do we need them?”

“No, I was just gonna say hi but I’ll see them tomorrow I suppose.” He smiled sadly at the thought of the funeral. “But, anyway, I came to deliver this. It turns out even, well, even when he’s gone your brother has me running errands.”

Katie smiled softly as he held up the box in front of her.

“He left three. One for you and Steve, one for Pepper and Morgan, and one for his Funeral….so…”

“His Funeral?” Steve frowned, as Katie opened a drawer and retrieved a knife before she walked over to the table. She had a feeling she knew what was in there, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she carefully slit the tape on the cardboard box and took a breath as she realised she was right.

Inside was an Iron Man helmet, one of his many spares from his suits over the years.

“He’s erm, ” she took a breath as she instantly recognised which suit this had come from. “He’ll have left a message or something, like he did all those years ago from Tennessee.”

Happy nodded. “He did. The boxes arrived at the house today. Along with instructions that if he had, you know, then they were to be distributed accordingly.”

“Thanks.” Katie set the helmet on the table and glancing into the box. There was another, smaller package inside, to which an envelope was attached. She smiled as she read her brother’s handwriting on the front. It simply said ‘Spangles’.

“We were just about to get lunch.” Steve tore his eyes away from Katie as he looked to Happy. “Do you want to join us?”

“Thanks but I should be getting back.” Happy declined the offer politely. “Stuff to do before tomorrow.”

Katie gave him a small smile, placing the smaller box on the table “Can’t say I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me neither.” Happy swallowed, dropping a hand to her shoulder “But we’ll get through it. We always do, huh?”

“I’ll see you out.” Steve said, as Happy gave Katie a hug before he nodded and the two men left the room.

Katie looked at the helmet which now sat on the table, and she took a deep breath before she picked it up and looked straight into the eye sockets. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, resting her forehead against the cool metal she held in her hands. She had no idea which suit this was from, but then again Tony had made so many of the damned things, it could be Mk500 for all she knew. The tears began to fall down her face as she screwed her eyes shut, head pressed against the helmet, before gently hands pried it from hers.

“Hey,” Steve spoke softly, dropping into the seat next to her, placing the helmet on the table. “Come here.”

She turned into him, pressing her face to his chest as she shook with silent sobs. His hand gently rubbed her back as he soothed her, waiting for her to calm down.

“Sorry,” She pulled back. “Stop apologising.” Steve shook his head, wiping her tears with his thumbs. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Katie took a deep breath and glanced at the helmet, before she remembered something. “Oh, here.” She reached out for the smaller box, and nudged it towards him.  “This was in there for you.” Steve frowned and took the box, looking at the envelope. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes “That fucking nickname.”

“Open it.” Katie urged. “I wanna see what it is.”

Smiling at her ever impatient nature, Steve tore the envelope open. His eyes scanned the writing and his brow furrowed slightly, before his lips turned up in a soft smile and he handed the note to her.

Hey Old Man. My dad once told me that no amount of money can buy a second of time, yet he had a hell of a lot of expensive watches, so go figure. This particular one, however, I couldn’t auction for charity. I always intended to pass it to you, one way or another. And if you’re reading this note you’re getting it after my demise…so I best explain.

I did a bit of digging and it turns out that most of the guys involved in ‘Operation Rebirth’ and the Howling Comandos got one of these post the War. It’s a Wartime Rolex Oyster, probably worth a fair dime or two but the sentiment makes it priceless as you’ll see when you look at it. (Here’s a clue- check the back!) It only feels right that you have it. I had intended to pass it to you for your 40th,or your 107th, whatever you wanna call it, but again, as you’re reading this I won’t be there for that.  

I know Jamie’s surname is Rogers but there is half Stark in him so he’s not a complete lost cause, and maybe when he’s older you can pass this down to him. Or if you have any more kids that are boys, I dunno, maybe you can give them a strap each or something. Whatever.

I’m also assuming you’ll be reading this before watching the message I left as we both know Kiddo is an impatient brat so I’ll leave it there, I don’ t wanna spoil my heartfelt speech too much.

T 

Whilst Katie was reading, Steve opened the box and he gently took the watch in his hand. It was silver, with a black leather strap and a simple, classic face. He studied at it before he turned it over and he instantly felt a lump in his throat. Engraved on the back was the Howling Commando emblem- they had adopted the wings from his helmet which had adorned their uniforms in whichever place they chose- with the words ‘To The Captain’ arched over the top in copper slate writing.

He gently handed it to Katie and she glanced down at it, turning it over to read the inscription, her fingers running over the writing.

“Wow.” She whispered, wiping her eyes “I’ve never seen this before.”

“It’s erm, ” Steve cleared his throat, his voice thick, “it’s pretty…”

“Awesome.” Katie smiled up at him.

“Yeah.” Steve nodded as she handed it back to him, and he placed it back in the leather box, setting it to one side.  Seeing that had brought a wave of emotions crashing back over him. Nostalgia, slight sadness at the loss of not just Tony but his other friends, and pride.

Pride that even after he was gone they’d remembered him in such a touching and genuine way.

Shaking himself out of it, he looked at Katie and then nodded to the helmet. “Do you wanna do it now or…” She nodded and picked it up in a shaking hand, before she put it on.

“Retinal Scan authenticated” FRIDAY’s voice spoke “Greetings Mrs Rogers…accessing Stark Secure Server, hologram projection activated.”

Katie removed the helmet and placed it on the table, pointing it away from them as the footage beamed out from the eye sockets. She took a deep breath as the hologramatic form of her brother appeared and he smiled at them.

“Hey Kiddo.” He spoke, “Cap…”

Katie wanted to speak back, so badly, but she knew it was pointless, he wasn’t actually there. Steve gently reached for her hand and she linked her fingers into his.

“So, I thought I better record a message, you know just in case it all goes sideways tomorrow.” Tony sniffed, sitting down on a chair. “I’ve left one for Pepper and Morgan too and the gang, but I wanted to leave you your own. I hope that you’re watching this back and our plan worked, that everyone came back and we did it,” he took a deep breath, “but there’s a couple of things I wanna get out of the way before we get into the soppy shit. So, first off, I’m leaving half my shares of Stark Industries to you, the other half goes to Pepper who will more than likely keep it for Moo once she’s old enough. If you both come to the decision to sell then, that’s cool. It’s probably run its course anyway. If not then good luck taking it in whatever direction you choose, not that you need luck, you’ve proven yourself more than capable of running it pretty much singlehandedly over the last five years.”

Katie took a deep breath and wiped at her eyes with her spare hand, the one that was entwined with Steve’s tightened around his fingers.

“Second, most of the cash assets I have pass to Pepper, but I’ve left instructions that there’s some for you as well. I know you don’t need it but I want you to use it for the kids, however many you end up with. Tell them Uncle Nee wanted to leave them something. And thirdly, the house in Malibu. I knew we never got round to rebuilding it but I still own the land and I want you to have it, Kiddo. That was our home for years and I watched you grow up there into the strong, beautiful woman you became so it only feels right. Plus it’s where we buried that fucking turkey too so it’s probably haunted by the evil bastard anyway. There’s a fund set up as well which should let you rebuild it however you want.

I know you probably won’t want to move from Brooklyn, I mean Cap’s lived there pretty much all his life, well, maybe, if you don’t count the sixty-five years doing time as a Capsicle or the time in DC and then wherever the hell you were when, well, you know,” Tony waved his hand, “whatever, the point is you can rebuild it how you want and use it how you want, nice little holiday home maybe.” Katie took a shuddering breath as now her tears were falling thick and fast. She’d forgotten all about that house, their home that had been destroyed. The fact that Tony had never sold the land so she could have it back in some form was astounding and overwhelming at the same time.

“So now that’s dealt with, onto the good stuff. First off, Spangles.” Tony spoke and Steve shifted slightly “I know we’ve had our differences, but I just wanted you to know when it comes to Katie I trust you implicitly, I think I always have done in a way. I never really had any doubts in my mind since that day I spoke to you in DC. To be honest you’re such a straight guy I trust you with pretty much anything, well, maybe not quite, I’m still not sure about our driving but that’s a different story.” Tony winked and Steve spluttered a chuckle. The fact that Captain America was a bit of a speed demon behind the wheel and been a long running joke amongst the Avengers since the beginning. “You’re a good man with a good heart, everyone knows this, I mean that’s the reason you were chosen for the serum anyway isn’t it? Because it makes the good better. I know I’m leaving my girl in good hands, but just so you know,” he raised his fingers to his eyes in the familiar ‘I’m watching you’ sign and Steve smiled, “and that won’t stop now, because if you ever do let her down I’ll make it my mission to haunt you for the rest of your life.” Tony smiled “But I know you won’t. And because I know you probably still don’t believe me I wanted to tell you once and for all that I don’t blame you for any of the shit that went down. I Love you buddy, Take it easy.”  Steve took a deep breath and wiped his tears with his spare hand as Katie gently squeezed his other again as hologram Tony shifted in his seat and his attention turned to Katie.

“Kiddo,” he sighed, “I don’t even know where to start. I know I’ve said it and said it again, but my biggest achievement in life will always be how well and good and honest and…amazing you turned out, even with me as a role model. If Moo turns out to be anything like you when she’s older then…” he trailed off and shrugged, “well, I only wish I was gonna be there to see it, oh, and that reminds me, Spangles I’m counting on you to be there to vet all potential boyfriends for suitability.” Both Katie and Steve let out a watery chuckle at that.

“But yeah, where was I…oh, right…I watched how you took Emmy under your wing, then when you had Jamie and how they’re both growing into spectacular people, it’s awesome and I really couldn’t be any prouder of the woman you became. Never lose that will to do the right thing, never lose that Stark stubbornness, never lose that streak of ferocity that leaves everyone quaking in their boots. After everything you’ve been through, I’m just sorry that I’m bringing more shitty times to your door by meeting an untimely death, but I know you’ll get through the other side, you always do. Just remember, this was my choice to fight, my choice. So I don’t want anyone thinking they’re to blame. You know, I think, deep down, I’ve always known it would end this way ever since New York. And rather this than some crazy old bastard rattling round in a home not knowing what day it is.”

Katie took another deep breath as Tony wiped his hand down his face.

“Anyway, please make sure they don’t play any soppy shit at my funeral. AC/DC, Queen or Led Zep will suffice, maybe some Train, I dunno.” He winked and Katie smiled through her tears “And if Ross is there, give him this from me.” He raised his middle finger of his right hand before he chuckled. “But I don’t know why I’m recording all of this anyway as I’m sure it’s gonna work out. I’ll probably be sat here watching it back and grimacing at how ridiculously stupid I sound and look, but just in case…I want you to remember that I love you to the stars and back my girl, I always will, and I’m beyond proud of you.”

And with that the message cut off, leaving the kitchen quiet bar Katie’s shaking, soft sobs. Steve gently turned towards her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a hug. She pressed her face into his chest, her hands sliding around his back where she gripped at his shirt her brother’s final goodbye to her echoing in her head.

**** Chapter 60

 **Original Posting**

[gay-salt-amber]

Where the hell is Kenma?!

Yuri on Ice x Haikyuu crossover

Just so you know, all the figure skaters kids are close with the other skaters so they consider ever skater they're close with family so the whole uncle aunt thing is just a friend thing

warnings: Gay, swearing, etc

Ships: leoji, yakulev, minotayuri

Пока= bye

All Russian is google translated

For the parents the kids will just be calling them by their names unless one parents is without the others then they will be called dad so it doesn't get confusing

Kenma pov

It was 10 alcock at night and I was up playing my video games as usual with Hinata, Lev and some other friends. We were playing a game that was a collaboration between Nerf and Xbox, it was quite good. Not my favorite shooter of all time but it was alright. When the match was over and the 20 second map and round type selection started, my phone rang. I was on a discord call with my friends so they saw the phone going up to my ear. Right when I was about to answer Lev spoke up,

"Who is it?" He asked

"Georgi."

"Popovich?"

"Yeah."

"Who's this Georgi?" Hinata seemed confused but curious.

"Just a family friend of ours." I answered, I don't wanna go into me and Lev being legally related right now.

"Oh, cool!"

I looked down at my phone and unlocked it to see the messages, "I might need to not play this round for a bit I need to respond to these texts." I said

The rest of them agreed and I went back to the messages.

---

Georgi: I was just wanting to remind you that the plane leaves at 7, so get some sleep kid.

Kenma: Thanks uncle Georgi, I'll try.

Georgi: Do you want us to bring the Russian team bus to pick you up from your house?

Kenma: Sure when are yall getting here?

Georgi: 6 prolly, depends on how long Lila and Yakov wanna take. Old asses -w-

Kenma: pfft xD

Kenma: Anyway, I need to get back to my friends see you later.

Georgi: K, get some sleep, my favorite nephew ☆⌒(*＾-゜)v

----

I unmuted my mic on the call and spoke after like 5 minutes

"Back, hows the round going?"

I didn't hear my dear Shoyo but instead Lev, "Good, Hinata got tired though and had to leave."

When I was about to say I needed to leave to, Lev spoke again,

"Oh yeah! You should get going, you don't wanna miss the flight!"

Once I exited the game I turned back to my monitor that had discord and moved it back to my main monitor, "I was about to say that."

"Пока" I said, my Russian feeling a little rusty.

"Пока Kenma!"

Pressing the 'end call' button made me sigh with relief, standing up, I walked over to my closet and grabbed some clothes for a shower before bed. I grabbed some long, loose black pants and a old Russian figure skating team shirt that one of my dads got me. While I was walking to the bathroom I was looking through some notes for class and deleted stuff I didn't need since I was going to be in an entire different country for a while.

I got out of the shower, dried my hair and put on my clothes. Once I got to the door, I looked into the mirror and I had an idea, 'Should I put my hair in braids so it'll look wavy tomorrow? Yeah that'll look nice!' I reached over and grabbed two small clear hair ties and put my hair into two braids.

I finally opened the bathroom door and walked back to my room to call it a night and sleep. Once I reached my room I noticed something, "You mother fucker.." I didn't pack my bags for the fucking trip. I whipped out my phone and thought of who I could message, we were gonna be in a bunch of places for skating and I wanted to check for how long, but guess what?! I don't know whos awake!

Right when I was about to wing it, I remembered its like 9 in the morning for Leo de la Iglesia, who is an American skater which I consider family. I guessed he would be up since he and Guang-Hong Ji, his boyfriend typically wake up at 7 to eat breakfast and go on a run together, virtually since they live in different countries but I guess they try. It took a while to find this name in my contacts since my phone doesn't really sort through who I texted recently but instead it sorts alphabetically the only time I would see his name at the top is if I had an unread message from him, which I don't. I kept scrolling reading off the letters as I went. H,I,J,K....

I finally got to L and found his name since I only have like 3 people whos name start with L in my contacts, I opened it and cringed at the date of the last sent message, 'June 1st' which was a happy pride month message. My fingers tapped on the message bar and I started typing quickly.

------

Kenma: Hey uncle Leo ヾ(•ω•`)o

Kenma: Ik this is a weird time to text since I should be sleeping but, you're the only one awake.

Leo: Ey Kozume! 💅 What do you need?

Kenma: I was wanting to know how long the competitions are gonna be , I forgot to pack soo...

Leo: Ah! Well you're going to be on the trip for a week and Georgi's gonna take you back to Japan the Monday afterwards

Kenma: I- Isn't it longer then that? (⊙_⊙)？

Leo: Yes but we know that Neko-

Kenma: Nekoma?

Leo: How ever the fuck you spell your schools name 😑

Leo: Anyway, we know you have a game against Karasuno the next day and we know you would wanna play in that sooo...

Kenma: Cool, thanks.

Leo: Np, see you in America (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

----

Once I was done snickering to myself at Leo and I's conversation, I walked over to my clothes drawers and got out the clothes I wanted, one formal outfit, some pj's and some casual stuff. I put that stuff in one suitcase and put my miscellaneous stuff in a smaller drawstring bag that had a bunch of video game pins on it. I walked downstairs to put my stuff by the door and when I got there I saw someone come in, it were my dads, Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek Altin and Minami Kenjiro.

I walked up and hugged all 3 of them, "Hey kiddo."

Since I decided to say screw sleep and talk to my parents which is something I didn't get to do much at this time of the year often since they have practice all the time. So we sat on the couch and had dinner while watching tv as a family and talked about their practice

Yuri chirped up while eating some rice, "Mila was being a bitch."

"Oh? What happened?" I asked

"So you know her kid Tendō?"

Minami put his chopsticks down and joined in the conversation, "He's that kid that goes to Shiratorizawa Academy right?"

"So, he's gonna be joining the Russian team since the he doesn't like the Italian team."

"Yet his uncle and other mom is on that team." Otabek pointed out

"Yeah."

"I don't get how she was being a bitch?" I said, trying to get the conversation back to the main point,

"Her ass was bragging about all practice, like shit I couldn't get 2 fucking works out without her interrupting."

We all laughed, and went back to eating.

After we were finished we all were doing the dishes, "Go upstairs and get some sleep kiddo, I'll do the rest of the dishes. Yuri, go get some rest too." Minami said

"Are you not going to America, Beka?" Yuri asked.

The black haired boy shrugged, "No, for some reason my couch decided I'm not going, I don't know why."

Minami was another one of my dads who was staying home, ever since they adopted me when I was 4 he always declined going to any skating competitions that weren't in Japan so that if I ever had an emergency someone would always be there. This meant that only me and Yuri, my blonde, sassy, Russian dad were going to America for the 3 back to back skating events that were happening there.

"I wonder why Lev's not going.."

"Your school doesn't want you both out when a game is so close." Otabek was right I still thought it was stupid since he was looking forward to this event, he's always wanted to go to America after all. But as compromise I promised to send him a lot of photos.

Minami who was still washing the dishes started shoving us out of the kitchen, "Yeah yeah, cut the chat get your butts upstairs and I don't wanna see you two down here until morning!" He said, waving a wooden spoon in the air as we walked up the stairs, laughing.

We reached the upstairs, both of my dads gave me a kiss on the forehead and wished me a good night. I walked into my room and instantly my tiredness from earlier came back to wack me in the face with 5 times the strength of before. I walked over to my bed and just.. flopped.

--In the morning--

My alarm for 5:30 went off and I got up, still tired but meh, nothing a bit of coffee wont fix. I walked over to my closet and got out a hoodie Shoyo gave me, it was a Karasuno hoodie with Shoyo's name and volleyball number, 10 on the back. I inhaled the scent of my lover. I'm gonna miss him but I still can call him. I grabbed a thin t-shirt to wear underneath and some soft black pants with red on the side, after I grabbed my clothes I walked to the bathroom and got changed. After that I took my braids out, my hair looked great!

When I left the bathroom right when I put my foot on the first step to head downstairs the scent of waffles hit my nose, I started to go quicker down the stairs since I fucking love waffles and I am starving! Once I got there Minami greeted me.

"Hey kiddo, did you sleep good?"

"Yeah." I nodded

"Are your other dads not up yet?"

"Nah." I shook my head getting out a plate.

"Before you eat imma wake them up."

I rubbed my forehead before sighing, "Oh god what are you planning, pops?"

"Nothing, let me just..." After finicking with his phone I heard a blast of noise from my parents room and the line I knew too well of "WELCOME TO THE MADNESS" blasted through the door. After like 2 seconds they were up and downstairs.

"You get creative when it comes to waking us up." Otabek yawned while Yuri wiped his eyes.

"I know, glad you're finally catching on~" Minami said, getting sassy, which he normally was this early in the morning.

"What'd you make for breakfast?" I asked.

"Apple waffles!"

I ran to the counter happily, grabbing like 3 fucking waffles.. What can I say? I love apple things!

"Goddamn! Leave some for us!" Yuri teased

"Nah~" I joked back.

When we had just finished our food, we were setting our dishes into the sink and just chatting, we heard a knock on the door. I turned to the clock, '6:00' almost on the dot. "Man when they say they'll be here at 6, they aren't kidding." Otabek said, looking at the bus through the window.

I snickered and got my shoes on, me and Yuri grabbed our suitcases and after my adopted dad kissed my other dads, we were out the door and on the bus. I stopped to talk to Mila whom was driving while Yuri went to go sit in the back by himself.

I tapped the red head on the shoulder, "Hey Mila can we make a stop before we go to the airport?"

She grinned "Yeah, of course, the flight was delayed a half hour anyway for whatever fucking reason."

"Ok, can we stop at Karasuno I uh.. Wanna see someone before we leave.."

Mila let out a quiet gasp before whispering, "Is this the boy you've been talking about?"

I nodded and Mila laughed, "Sure, I don't see why not!"

I gave a light smile and went to go sit down.

--When they stopped at Karasuno, Hinata pov--

"We aren't doing anything special today, hell do what you want if you wanna sit and chat do that, I am giving you a free day before we practice for our match against Nekoma." Couch Ukai explained

We all nodded with a 'yes couch' coming out of all us.

Me and Yamaguchi stayed chatting when our long haired ace, Asahi came in, "Sorry I'm late but there's a bus outside that says, 'Russian Figure Skating Team' outside for whatever reason."

"I wonder why..." I brushed it off though and continued talking to Yams

We kept talking before I heard a familiar voice, "Shoyo? Are you here?"

"Kenma!" I exclaimed before I jumped up and ran to give him a hug which almost knocked him over in the process.

"Hi Shoyo, its good to see you."

"What are you doing here?" I asked, releasing the hug and just holding his hands and I spoke again

"I mean there's a weird bus that says Russian Figure Skating Team or something outside but why are you here?"

"That's my ride." Kenma answered plainly.

"That's your- WHAT!" I was surprised and the others came over

Kenma laughed, "That's why I came here, I wanted to let you know I'm going to be gone for a week."

"Why? Did something happen?" Suga asked from the back

"No, no! I'm going to skate in America, I'll be back for our game though." His answer made me more curious

Noya's voice rang from the right, "When are you leaving?"

"Around 7:30, our plane got delayed but I get to talk with you more, right Shoyo?"

I was about to sit down when the door swung open and there stood someone who looked a bit like Kenma, but different colored eyes and plain blonde hair

"I'm hanging out in here with you kid."

"Yakov being annoying?"

"да ебать его задницу!"

"Who are you sir?" Asked Asahi who was putting away the few volleyballs that were used since most of the team was chatting, it was a free day after all

"This is Yuri Plisetsky, my dad." Kenma explained

"Cool."

I tilted my head, wondering what he said, I knew it was Russian just based on context but I didn't know what, "What was that you were saying?"

"He said, "yeah fuck his ass" My blonde boyfriend translated

"Ooh."

"Well before we go might as well do this," Kenma sighed as he held my hand tighter,

"Dad, this is my boyfriend, Shoyo." Kenma looked nervous.

"As long as he treats you well, then I don't care."

"W-wait that's it?!" Kenma seemed surprised

Yuri clutched his chest in laughter, "I-I'm sorry! Just.."

"Are you forgetting who I am?"

"What?"

"Kiddo, I am a trans gay man who has been married with 2 other men in a poly relationship for 2 years now, what'd you want me to say?"

Hinata looked surprised but also relived, "Really? That's so cool!"

Yuri looked at me and rolled his eyes and messaged the bridge of his nose, "Really? You went for the fanboy?"

"Dad, you're married to one."

"Meh, true."

We were talking for a while longer with me just being lovey as usual when someone else walked through the door and yelled "ITS JJ STYLE!" Which Yuri's dad looked pissed about

"I'll get him out give me a second."

"убирайся отсюда, канадский ебать!" Yuri yelled as he proceeded to shove the man I'm guessing named JJ out

"What'd he say?" I asked

"Get out of here you Canadian fuck."

"Oooh."

With that a new people entered, "Kozume!" A voice called,

"Hi Gramps."

"Whos this?" I questioned with my hand still on Kenma's

"That's my grandpa, Victor Katsuki-Nikiforov."

"That's so cool!"

Kenma blushed and just nodded,

"Does my grandson have a boyfriend~"

"Yep, this is Shoyo."

"So he's the one I keep hearing Chris say you brag about?"

"Mhm."

"We-"

Before Victor could continue I heard a slam

"Двигай своей задницей, черт возьми, свинья!" (Move your ass fucking pig!) And in came Yuri kicking another black haired boy in through the door.

"Yurio be nice you your mother!"

"HES NOT MY MOTHER! AND STOP CALLING ME YURIO!" He yelled back

Victor sighed, "Well we have 2 Yuri's here its confusing!"

The grey haired mans tone quickly changed, "Anyway~"

He helped Yuuri up and waltzed on back over to us, "Our grandson has a boyfriend!!!!"

"Awh that's great!"

"Aaand Shoyo, meet my other grandpa, Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov"

"It's nice to meet you."

We talked a bit before Yuuri spoke up,

"We should get going, the others probably wanna get coffee before we go to the airport."

"Oh, yeah, I guess so."

I was sad that they had to leave because Kenma noticed and his face softened because when they were getting up to leave, he gave me a soft kiss on the lips,

" I will call you every chance I get, Ok baby?"

"Alright, I'll see you next week at the game?"

"Yes, I love you."

"I love you too." Those were the last words I said to Kenma in person for a week.

When I turned around I heard someone yell, "KOZUME HAS A BOYFRIEND!"

Lev pov--

Kenma: We're having another fucking flight delay!

Lev: I still wish I could've gone with!

Kenma: I know, you were really wanting to come, right?

Lev: Ofc! I have always wanted to go to America! 😭😭😭

Kenma: Oof

Lev: Hold on the team is worried about you, give me a moment

Kenma: Gl Kuroos gonna be all like 'well why didn't I know?!' or some shit

Lev: mhm 😑

---

I turned off my phone and listened to the rest of the team freak out about the gamer boys missing

"WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?!" Yaku yelled out of panic

"Yaku, I am sure he's fine.." Yamamoto said, trying to keep the peace

"Well we don't know that! Hell! He didn't even tell me anything.." Kuroo was also pissed which just made me wanna chuckle since Kenma was right about Kuroos reaction.

"Uhm..."

"What Lev?"

"Well about Kenma being gone, I know where he is I just thought this was funny."

"So us worrying is funny?!"

"When I know why, yes."

Kuroo rolled his eyes, "Lev, Kenma never talks to you."

"Yes, yes he does, you don't know every fucking thing he does." I snapped.

"Are you sure?" Kuroo retorted

"Whos he dating?"

"I-"

"See you dont even know that"

"Fucking- Whatever just where is he?" Yaku asked

I held out my phone and showed the texts

"Where the hell is he going?! We have a game!"

"Yaku, please shut the fuck up." I whispered.

"What?!"

"Yaku I love you, but please shut the fuck up, he doesn't care about the game right now, he will be back for the game with Karasuno, but he is with family and doing something that will contribute to his future. Now shut up пожалуйста, перестань любопытствовать и дай ему жить!" (please stop prying and let him live!)

"..."

I took a step back, I swore my boyfriend out... I even yelled at him in Russian!

I felt like I wanted to cry, I didn't wanna snap like that.. Then I heard the door open

"HA I KNEW HE WOULD CUSS SOMEONE OUT! Виктор! ты должен мне 20 долларов!" (Victor you owe me 20) I turned to the voice,

"Oh praise god." I sighed

Yurio was walking up to me, "ты в порядке? ты выглядишь напряженным .." (are you okay? you look tense)

"Я огрызнулся на своего парня, и я устал, угадай" (I snapped at my boyfriend and I'm tired, guess)

"What are they saying.." Yaku was confused

"Well apologize you fuck!" Yurio scoffed

"..."

"Sorry sir, but Lev is fine, I was the one who deserved it."

"I'm still sorry!"

"Even better question! Lev, you can speak Russian!?" Kuroo seemed surprised

"Yeah, I just didn't wanna hear the, 'oh! Say my name in Russian' or, 'say something in Russian!' that gets annoying fast!"

"Oh, Beka has the same problem whenever he says he's from Kazakhstan."

"Anyway, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the airport with the rest of the Russian team."

"We would be in the sky by now is the plane would stop getting fucking delayed!"

"Well let the team rest in here! Its probably hot as fuck in that bus."

"Smartest thing you've said all day, Levochka." And with that he left

"And who was that?" Yaku's tone was serious so I beckoned the team over to the bench to explain

"So you know how I have left practice early?"

"Yes?"

"That's because I do figure skating and I am hoping to go into it full time when I am older and that person who was here a bit ago was a part of the Russian Figure Skating team."

"Nice!" Someone commented from the end of the bench

"Levochka!" A voice called,

"DAD!" I raced to meet the voice and gave a big hug to my father, Victor Nikiforov and gave my other dad, Yuri Katsuki a hug when he entered short after.

Yaku came up from behind, and kicked me, "YOU NEVER TOLD ME YOUR PARENTS WERE FAMOUS SKATERS YOU FUCK!"

Upon seeing that the Russian team was pissed, "Держи свои гребаные ноги от него, ублюдок размером с муравей!"

"I still don't know what yall are saying.."

A voice came from the back, "Georgi said, "Keep your fucking feet off him, ant-sized motherfucker" I recognized Kenma's voice quickly

"Ey! I thought you would stay on the bus!" Yurio called

"Well, I finished my level and I have nothing else to play until a few daily bonuses roll in."

"Kid you run through games like me and Lev run through a thing of pirozhkis.."

"Meh I keep myself entertained."

"KENMA?!" Kuroo called, ran up and started to shake the boy

"I WAS WORRIED WHY DIDNT YOU TELL US WHERE YOU WERE GOING?1"

"Because it doesn't concern you, besides its not like I'm gonna be gone forever.."

"Kozume I am your best friend! You tell your best friend this shit!"

"Uh..." Kenma stuttered

"What?! Is there anything else you wanna tell me?!"

"1: I don't owe you shit and 2: Lev and Shoyo are my best friends, Теперь слезай с высокой лошади, ты трахаешься" (Now get off the high horse, you fuck)

"That's my boy!" Yurio cheered

Yuuri shook his head and turned to me, "Anyway, Lev can we pull you and Yaku to the side we wanna talk to you two."

I nodded and grabbed Yaku's hand and we exited the gym with my dads

"Levochka.. Are you sure he's the one you want?" My dad asked gently

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you said that this was your boyfriend when we talked about it before but are you sure he is what you want? I mean he kicks you and gets physical it seems a lot. I just want for you to be safe." My dad explained.

Yaku looked nervous as my dead continued, "Hell even Yurio when we adopted him, was never physical with anyone who didn't deserve it.. Minus Yuuri but you get what I mean."

I grabbed Yaku's hand, "I know but Yaku's trying and that's all I can really ask.."

Yuuri started to talk "Lev please be safe." His face was one of worry

"I'm sorry Mr. Nikiforov, I've been trying my hardest to not be as bad as I was, I am trying for your sons sake, I wanna make him happy.."

"I can see that and I hope you keep trying."

"I will, I care about Lev so much I wouldn't do anything to actually hurt him, I love him too much to do that."

"Th-"

"HEY VICTOR WE NEED TO GET TO THE AIRPORT!" Called Yakov's voice loud from the bus.

"Coming! Lets go!"

After gathering the others they left, till next week will we see them again.

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 26

 --------

Back at Castle McLeod, I was unpacking my bags once again. I hadn’t really planned on staying more than a couple months but knowing Beacon Hills... It could be a while. A soft knock made me look back towards the door. Lachlan was leaving against the thick wooden door, arms crossed over his chest. 

“You’re back early.” He said, walking into the room. 

“Yeah.” I shrugged, closing the top drawer of the dresser, “Scott talked me into coming back to keep me and little tyke safe.” I patted my stomach. 

“So... How’s Derek?” 

“Alive and well. Unfortunately, Derek was put under a spell. It seems like that woman really wanted to keep him distracted.” I put my hands on my hips, “Speaking of, why were you so supportive of me pulling a ‘Michael’?”

“I can hear you!” Michael shouted from the next room over. 

Lachlan chuckled, “I supported you because you have to at least have someone supporting you. And I knew you wouldn’t kill him. You love him too much.” 

“Why didn’t you try to stop me if you knew I wouldn’t?” 

“Because you need to make your own decisions. Your own choices.” He picked up the family photo album that I placed on the bed, smiling down at the crest that decorated the front, “Our parents made a choice for us, we need to make our own.” He made a good point. I guess it was easier to talk with Lachlan about my situation because he had been through the same thing. He lost a part of his life, he lost his partner. 

He set down the photo album, “I came because the other members have gathered in the main room to discuss their hunter situations. We were hoping, well, I was hoping that you would come in and share your tale.” 

Sighing, I rubbed the back of my neck, “I... I don’t know.” 

“There’s no judgement here.” Lachlan said, “I’ll be by your side every step of the way.” His eyes were kind and genuine. He seemed so wise but he was still so young. One could only imagine what he had been through. 

“Okay.” I nodded, “Let’s go.” 

-

After getting a little more gussied up, Lachlan led me down to what could have been a movie set for the knights of the round table since there was a large, wooden round table with chairs around it. Each chair had a tapestry draped over the back with what I was assuming were the crests from the different clans since the tapestry on the chair Lachlan pulled out for me was my family’s. They were at least five other werewolf clans there. They all started their story the same way, everything was fine. There were working well with the hunters in their area, a mishap here or there that was resolved. When it got to me though, that was the interesting part. 

“And finally, our last member (Y/N) of the (Y/L/N) clan.” Lachlan motioned to me to the whole group. Everyone was staring so intently. 

“Uh, hi.” I said awkwardly, “I’m (Y/N). And uh the hunter situation hasn’t been great.” I stood up, “You all knew my father’s deal with Chris Argent, weapons in exchange for safety. He became a friend to our family. But he was the only one who wanted that. After abusing my partner as a child, his sister, Kate, succeeded in murdering the majority of the Hale pack which prompted my parents to conduct the Wolf Eclipse spell on me. She didn’t stop there. Laura Hale had figured out who helped her start the fire. Unfortunately, Peter Hale then killed her and took matters into his own hands and started killing off her list. This scared Kate, so she returned to Beacon Hills to finish what she started. She tortured my partner and I, and led her niece down the same path as herself. A path where cruelty and death were right. After Kate’s death, their father Gerard came into the picture. That’s where I learned how bad Kate could be. Gerard is dead. Chris’ wife is dead after being bitten, and his daughter is on the brink of becoming just like her aunt. So... The situation isn’t great.” I sat back down, “I’m sure Chris will be fine working with us, but to say that things are fine is wrong.” There was silence. It almost seemed like the rest of the clans were uncomfortable with my statement. I’m glad they got to have  The meeting adjourned soon after. 

-

SIX MONTHS LATER

MICHAEL

“What do you mean you have no idea what you’re doing?!” (Y/N) roared, her eyes bright red. Michael had accompanied her to the mainland to do some shopping for last minute baby things when she had started to feel cramping. They had gotten a hotel room on the mainland since the ferry didn’t run this late. So now it was just Michael and (Y/N) in a hotel room and he probably wasn’t going to get his security deposit back. (Y/N) was leaning back against the bed, holding her large baby bump. 

“Do you know how many times I’ve been in this situation?! Zero! Zero times!” Michael tugged at his hair, trying to stay calm in this very not-calm situation. Michael really didn’t have too much training from the Lunar Circle as a bodyguard. He had been dead for a couple months so it was safe to say he missed the werewolf delivery class. He was screwed. 

“Well, you better do something before I rip your HEAD OFF!” Her roar was cut off by her whining in pain.

“Let’s just calm down, alright?! I’m doing the best I can!” Michael pulled his phone out of his pocket, calling into Lachlan’s office. 

 “Praetor McLeod speaking.” 

“Praetor, it’s Keaton, I have a bit of a situation here-” A loud crash made him look back at his guard. (Y/N) had thrown a lamp at the wall. Yeah, definitely not getting that deposit back. 

“What was that?”

“That’s the situation, sir. (Y/N)’s gone into labor.”

“What?!” He shouted, “How far apart are her contractions?”

“I don’t know...”

“Well, ask her!”    

Michael looked back at (Y/N), “Hey (Y/N/N)? How far apart are your contractions?” (Y/N) had fully shifted, her fangs looked ready to bite down into me. She roared loudly in response. 

“I’d say pretty close.” Michael squeaked out. 

Lachlan groaned in frustration, “Dammit! Looks like you’re going to have to deliver the baby.” There was shuffling around, “I’m gonna get on the next flight to the mainland.” 

“Wait-wait-wait, what? I can’t deliver a baby!”

“I’ll be there soon.” Lachlan hung up. Michael turned around slowly, dropping his phone on the ground. (Y/N) was on her hands and knees on the ground, screaming through her teeth. 

“Okay... I can do this.” Michael said confidently. The look in her red eyes made the confidence fly out of him like a bat out of hell. 

“I can’t do this.” 

-

They made it back to the castle in the early morning. Lachlan and Michael stood outside of the infirmary, waiting to get inside. 

“So how’d it go?” Lachlan asked, hands behind his back. He honestly looked stressed. When he had run into the hotel room, he looked disheveled with new parent panic, which was interesting. 

“Uh...” Michael looked down at his arm in a sling. During a contraction, (Y/N) had pulled and dislocated his shoulder, “All things considered?” He looked back at Praetor McLeod, “Pretty well.” The door in front of them opened, a nurse waved them inside. 

(Y/N) was on the bed, holding a tiny baby in her arms. She didn’t look at them when they walked in, refusing to take her eyes from the infant. She was smiling so bright, a twinkle in her tired eyes. The child was sleeping peacefully.

“Well, look at you.” Lachlan grinned, “Tiny little thing.” He went to her side, looking down at the baby with such adoration. 

It had been a while since Michael had seen a baby, and the feeling that overcame him when the baby was born... He could only compare it to being a father. 

Michael stepped forward, looking down at the little boy, “Look at all that hair.” He said in awe. Even as a newborn, his head was covered in thick dark hair. 

“Have you seen Derek?” She chuckled, sweeping some hair from the little boy’s forehead gently with her fingertips. 

“Excuse me, Miss (Y/L/N).” All of their heads were brought to look at the home nurse that had come from the local hospital, “We have all the paperwork ready for you to look at.” (Y/N) looked up at the nurse. 

“Oh yeah, sure.” 

The nurse clicked the pen, “Alright, what’s the wee lad’s name?” 

“Nicholas Noah Hale.” She said. Hale? She was really giving him his last name. After everything?

“Is it safe to give him Derek’s last name?” He asked, tapping his foot. She narrowed her eyes at him in confusion. 

“It’s fine.” She shook off his concern.

“And the father’s name?” The nurse asked. 

“Derek S. Hale.” Even hearing his name made his blood boil. 

-

(Y/N) 

The infirmary - mostly Lachlan- wanted me to stay in the infirmary overnight for observation. I guess being a werewolf certainly helped with the pain management. After calling Uncle Noah and Stiles, it was time to call Nicholas’ father. Although I’m sure he felt the pain I went through already. I had sent him a message that I was going to video call him, I just hoped that he was in a place where he could. 

I had the laptop set up on the table that was attached to the medical bed. I pressed his name then hit video call. I watched as the virtual call ang, praying that he could answer. Finally, it connected. The video feed opened, showing Derek. He was in the office of the depot, Peter was in the background, looking over his nephew’s shoulder. 

“Ugh.” My smile fell, “Why’s he here?” 

“It’s his laptop, I didn’t have a choice.” Derek grumbled. 

“Come on, show me my little great-nephew.” Peter whined, leaning in closer. 

Shaking my head, I bent the screen down to show Derek and Peter the sleeping baby in my arms. 

“Wow...” Derek said, grinning brightly, “I wish I could be there to-...” He blinked a few times, “I should be there.” 

“I wish you were here too.” I smiled sadly, “He looks just like you.” 

“Poor kid.” Peter mumbled. Derek looked over his shoulder. 

“Go.” Derek growled, “Now.”

“But-” 

“Now!” Peter quickly moved out of frame and out of the office. Derek looked back at me, shaking his head a little. 

Little cries brought attention to the little boy, “Somebody’s hungry.” I started to unclasp my hospital gown. I had breast fed him previously but it was still a weird feeling. 

“I’m in love.” Derek said softly, “I love you... So much. I love him so much.” He looked determined, “I’m gonna make Beacon Hills safe again. Safe for both of you.” 

“I know you will.” I said softly, stroking Nicholas’ cheek softly, “But please be careful.” 

“I’m always careful.” My glare changed his smug expression, “Okay, maybe I’m not. But I promise to be extra careful.” 

----------- 

Read part 27 here!

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[xwing-baby]

Ascent of the Emissary: Presentation Day

Word Count: 3.6k

Series Summary: A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away...The FIRST ORDER have announced themselves to the galaxy and are set on destroying the Galactic Alliance. A young woman, born and raised in the rich Order sympathising society, on the planet RAELA, meets her supposed sworn enemy in a crowded marketplace and comes to a crossroads in her life. Does she follow the path laid out to her by her FAMILY or does she carve her own, JOIN THE FIGHT against the Order and BETRAY everything she’s ever known.

Chapter Summary: It’s time for Lin’s presentation day, his promotion to Major of the First Order. But Kyla’s got something on her mind. 

A/n: I’ve decided I like Friday’s more than Saturday’s for uploads, so HEY! I’m so glad you guys liked part 1 and I hope you like what this chapter brings too! Get to meet one of my favourite characters, let me know what you think of him too!  

<- Previous chapter    //     Introduction    //    Next Chapter ->  

It was late. The city had quietened down, the moon was bright and full in the sky. Usually I would be fast asleep at this hour but I was wide awake. I had tried everything to fall asleep: I’d turned my pillows, tried the opposite end of my bed, tried without the blankets, with no pyjamas, with more pyjamas. I tried turning on a lamp, I tried opening the curtains and letting the moonlight in. I tried everything and was getting frustrated to the point of tears. 

Maybe a drink would help. I knew the real issue but I didn’t want to think about it. 

When I was younger, I first began questioning my family's ties to the First Order and the Empire. As any rebellious young teenager I wanted to know everything and especially if that everything made my parents mad. A fellow classmate told me about Jedi, about how this group had fought against the Empire and were the reason the Empire fell. According to her, her uncle was a Jedi on Raela, he had given her a Jedi book in the hopes that she would become one too. The Jedi were destroyed along with the Empire but she kept the book hidden away from her parents then gave it to me. I took it home and devoured each page. The book told of the Force, the dark and the light. A lot of it I didn’t understand, but that stuff that did, changed me forever. Rather naively I told my mother about the book. That proved to be the biggest mistake of my life to that point. 

My mother told my father. My father took the book and burnt it. I cried, yelled at him to stop. I told him it wasn’t mine, that it was my friends. I tried to reason with him, tried to tell him that it wasn’t a dangerous book. I just wanted to learn. 

My father slapped me across the face, the rings on his fingers cut into my face making me bleed. He told me if I was ever caught with any ‘Jedi crap’ in his house again, I would be thrown out. I was taken out of school, isolated from anyone my own age and forced to stay at home with my mother. 

Over the years, I had forgotten what the book said. But that overwhelming sense of guilt I felt the first time I opened up the book, I never forgot. And it was starting to creep back in now. I knew even thinking about the Resistance was a bad thing. It had been drummed into my very soul at this point. 

I got up out of bed, deciding a hot drink would sooth my anxious stomach. It was quiet in the house, even the cleaning droid’s had powered down. I walked down the stairs, through our living room and into the kitchen. I flicked the light on and yelped as a man appeared in the corner. He quickly jumped over to me, dropping the bag in his hand and clamped a gloved hand over my mouth. I whimpered, screwing my eyes shut and began to cry. 

“Don’t kill me,” I whimpered, my heart was rattling against my chest.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” The man said calmly, his voice was soft and smooth, nearly opposite to the clear and proper Raelan accent. “I’m going to take my hand off your mouth now and you’re not going to scream. Understand?”  I nodded, the man slowly took his hand off my mouth and I opened my eyes. 

The man looked at me, studying me for a moment, then turned back to what he was doing before I disturbed him, rooting through cabinets and drawers. He was looking for something. 

I watched him for a little while longer, he wasn’t finding whatever he wanted and moved into another room. I stood still at my spot in the doorway. He wore a dark cloak, the hood over his head but the light of the city shone in and created a golden glow on what I could see of his face. High cheekbones, a hint of a beard along his chin. He had soft lips and a sharp nose too. His eyes were covered by shadow. Slowly, I began to realise. I recognised him. 

“Hey I know you,” I said, loud enough so he could hear me in the next room, my father’s study. 

“No you don’t,” He replied.

“You were at the market. You’re with the resistance,” I said the last few words hushed. 

“And if I was?” He poked his head around the doorframe, holding my father’s data-pad in his hands.

“I want to know about it,” I said, getting a little braver.

“About what?” 

“The resistance! What’s it like?” 

The man looked suspiciously at me, “Why would an Order sympathizer want to know about the resistance?” 

“I’m not a sympathizer,” I said carefully, “I’m... neutral,” 

“Hm, sure,” The man laughed quietly to himself, then disappeared back into the darkness of the study. 

“What are you looking for?” I asked.

“Who says I’m looking for anything?” He walked out of the study. 

“Why are you in my house then?” 

“Just checking it out,” The man said, gliding his hand under a bookshelf shelf. He was definitely looking for something. “I’m house hunting,” 

“You don’t look like you could afford this neighbourhood,” 

“What? Because I’m with the Resistance?” The man smirked, “Raela City is so judgemental,” 

“So you are with the Resistance?” I grinned, the man frowned realising he had admitted it. “If you tell me about it, I’ll tell you where whatever it is you’re looking for it,” 

“Why would a rich Raela City girl want to know about the Resistance?” He asked, stopping what he was doing to look at me.

“I’m curious,” 

“An Order kid ‘curious’ about the resistance is like red flag number one. Go back to bed and forget this ever happened. I’m sure you’ll have lovely dreams of blood and murder,” 

“I’m not a kid,” I protested, “And I’m not with the First Order, besides I don’t exactly have a choice either way,” 

“Oh you rich kids, you do make me laugh! I don’t have a choice!” He mocked, “Of course you do, that’s what it's all about,” The man laughed at me. I didn’t budge, wasn’t going to let an intruder make fun of me. He seemed to notice my stubbornness and sighed in defeat. “If you really want to know about the Resistance, come to the Golden Star tomorrow night,” 

“What’s that?” 

“You’ll work it out, kid,” He said, pulling the window open he had originally climbed through and stepping out onto the balcony. 

“I don’t even know your name,” I called after him, quickly following him to the window against all better judgement.

“Rafan,” Rafan said, jumping down from the balcony. I winced a little as he did; it was two storeys down. He landed, and ran off into the night. 

“Kyla?” My mother's sleep filled voice came from the hall. I quickly turned in a panic, covering the window with my body. “What are you doing? It’s late?” 

“I was thirsty,” I said quickly.

“I heard you talking to someone?” She looked around me, peering around the corner to the pantry. I shrugged.

“Just to myself, helps me think,” 

“OK sweetheart,” She didn’t believe me, but was too tired to fight about it, yawned and turned back around, “Just get to bed. Big day tomorrow,” 

“Goodnight,” I waved her off, and let out a steady breath as she turned back up the stairs. I looked back down to the street to see if Rafan was still there. He was long gone.

I shut the window, making sure to lock it this time and made myself a hot cup of tea. I took it back upstairs to my bedroom. I looked out my window, the lights of the city flickered in the rain. I grin grew on my face and I could barely contain the squeal of excitement that bubbled up inside me. I had met a Resistance fighter! In my home! And he was so handsome, oh my stars! I was going to meet him again tomorrow! 

The excitement was drowned by guilt quickly. If I went to the Golden Star tomorrow I would be betraying my family, everything my father stands for! How was I even meant to sneak out and find this place? I didn’t know much of the city really, I knew my route from my home to work and to the market but that was it. I’d never seen or even heard of the Golden Star! Maybe the man was just lying, maybe he wasn’t with the resistance at all and was really just an ordinary thief trying to manipulate me so I didn’t raise the alarm.

I sighed, pulled my covers up to my chin and curled up a little tighter. I had twenty-four hours to decide what to do. I had my brother’s presentation all day tomorrow. Would I even be back in time?

Eventually, I fell asleep just as the sun was rising.

--

“Good morning, Miss Olen. Time to wake up!” SAM, our housekeeping droid, announced as she marched into the room. A reprogrammed protocol droid, S.A.M had worked in our house for as long as I could remember. She was almost my third parent. She cooked for us, cleaned up after us, did our schedules, sent messages and received holograms. She had taken care of me and my brother when we were infants and taught us how to read and write before we started school. She also was my morning alarm.

“Good morning Sam,” I yawned and sat up in bed as the droid rolled across my room. 

“You have two hours before you depart for Lonam, do you need my assistance dressing today?” She continued, opening the curtains and the windows behind them.

“No Sam, thank you,” 

“The dress is pressed in your closet and breakfast is ready whenever you would like it,” 

“Thank you Sam,” 

I got out of bed, and over to my closet where I found the green silk dress pressed and hung neatly in the front. I smiled, it was a gorgeous dress. I pulled it down from the rail and pulled out a pair of black heels and put the two articles on. 

I pulled my hair from the tie that was now only loosely holding it in a ponytail and let the curls fall free. I kept my hair down, running some gel through my curly hair to keep them together. Then I put on my makeup, smoky and dark with a red lip. A tried and true look for the First Order but the green of my dress would make me stand out at least. I smiled into the mirror once my look was complete, I looked good. 

“Kyla! You look gorgeous, my dear,” My father said kindly as I entered the dining room.

“Thank you father,” I blushed. A compliment from my father was rare and meant a lot.

“It’s going to be a beautiful day, that will bring more people out for sure. All that rain last night had me worried,” My mother fussed, rushing with her bag between the dining room and the kitchen. 

“The transport has arrived sir,” Sam announced

“Brilliant, just on time,” My father checked his watch and smiled before standing up from the table. 

“Oh Kyla dear, don’t forget this,” My mother fussed. She pulled me to the side and pinned a heavy metal badge to my chest. “There, perfect.” 

I looked down at the object and saw a black and red first order emblem. My mother smiled proudly and kissed my cheek. Rafan was right, there was no way I could be neutral in this house, I was a walking advertisement for the Order. 

Together, my parents and I climbed into the transport and were flown away by the droid in the pilot’s seat to Lonam. 

Lonam was a small town, well hidden in a steep valley it was the perfect place for a core world's First Order presentation. Not that it really mattered to be particularly secretive on Raela as half of the senate where attending the event, it was more for public appearances to the outside galaxy. Raela couldn’t publicly be holding such events, especially not in the capitol. If anyone found out about this it could be marked off as a small anomaly event and nobody would think it was a rally of this importance. 

Not only was this a promotion presentation, it was also a rally for support. The First Order had been gaining traction rapidly, they were becoming a real threat to the New Republic and rumour had it that they were announcing something big today. 

Once we had arrived, we were taken swiftly to our seats. We were a few rows from the front. There were maybe a hundred people in attendance, some first order officers and many stormtroopers lined the outside of the arena. The promoted officers stood on stage all in the black and grey uniform. I spotted my brother at the front, my mother waved but was quickly stopped by my father’s stern gaze. 

The ceremony started, the Admiral stood and presented medals and we in the audience clapped politely. Then, he stood up to the podium to speak. 

“The Supreme Leader thanks you for attending today,” He spoke clearly and proudly, “The support for the Order from the people of Raela is greatly appreciated. We have a historic connection to this great planet and I am so proud to present the newest members of the First Order to you today. I am sure these young men and women will lead us into a brighter future. One where order is restored and the Empire shall reign once again,” The crowd cheered. “And as  many of you know, the Supreme Leader has ordered us to proceed into our next phase. No more will we lurk in the shadows! We are advancing our attack on the Republic and will destroy the Resistance!” The crowd cheered again. “That is why we are announcing our newest weapon. With the funds from Raela we are building… a star killer,” 

A large projection appeared behind the Admiral. A huge ball of metal, with a glowing circle in the centre. While it didn’t look like much, the name struck fear into me. Star Killer. They were going to blow up planets! Whole galaxies. The crowd around me clapped and hollered in celebration as the Admiral grinned and began to talk about the new base’s capabilities. My ears were ringing, I could barely hear anything. This was bad news for everyone! Why were they all celebrating? I could hardly imagine the destruction something so big could do. My mother noticed and jabbed me in the ribs to bring me back to reality. 

“Clap,” She hissed. 

“Sorry,” I lifted my head up and clapped with her. 

Eventually the Admiral and the following speakers finished and we were left to mingle and congratulate. We found my brother quickly, my father toasted him and proudly exclaimed for everyone to hear that Lin would be the next Admiral of the First Order. I rolled my eyes, he had barely become a Major, granted it was quickly but I doubted he would ever become Admiral, even with our father's help. 

I excused myself from the group surrounding my brother and wanted to find some food but was stopped by my mother. She grabbed my arm and turned in towards her. Not saying anything she smoothed down my hair and wiped the mascara from under my eye. 

“Mother, what are you doing,” I whined trying to get out of her grip.

“Armitage Hux?” My mother held my arm tight, forcing me to stay put. I winced but smiled politely as the ginger man in front of us turned around. 

“Sella Olen, what a pleasure to see you again,” The man smiled and took my mother's hand and kissed the back of it. He was tall and pale, his bright hair was striking, slicked back so perfect it barely looked real. He was dressed in the first order’s uniform, a new colonel badge shiny brightly on the arm. He was quite intimidating but made my mother blush and giggle with his action. I wanted to vomit. “And this must be your sister,” 

“Oh stop it,” My mother giggled as she teased him, “this is my daughter. Kyla,” 

“Lovely to meet you too,” He kissed my hand the same as my mother.  

“Well now I’ve introduced you two I must go, my husband’s talking to the Admiral and we all know how that went last time,” My mother and Hux laughed, obviously knowing something I didn’t and she left me alone with him. 

“Well done on your promotion,” I said politely. 

“Thank you, I’m on track for General now,” He boasted, “A few more months and I’ll be there for sure,” 

“I’m sure you will,” 

“You must send on my congratulations to your brother, an major after three months in the Order is very impressive,” He sounded entirely unimpressed. It wasn’t a very close kept secret that nepotism had helped my brother immensely in his promotions.

“I’ve been told he is very skilled,”

“Hm,” Hux hummed, the disdain was obvious and somehow made me like him just a little bit. 

“I wouldn’t be too worried about him. He’ll get high up the ranks but he won’t be any issue. He’s not exactly the leading type and I think if he came anywhere near your position my mother may just choose you over him,” I said with a light laugh, Hux laughed too. 

“I am not worried about him, dear,” Hux said through tight lips. 

“But he should be scared of you,” I finished his thought. Hux didn’t reply, but the sly smile on his face told me everything I needed to know. Lin would be in danger if he ever tried to cross this man, but for now he was complacent with the fact that Lin was still below him and my father did not have authority to promote his own son above Hux just yet. 

Luckily, my mother re-entered the conversation alongside my father, taking the conversation out of my hands. I stood by their side for a while as my father rather icily made conversation with Hux. I slipped away and went to find a quiet corner to relax in for a moment. 

As I sat by myself, I began to take in the event. I noticed the stormtroopers lining the area, there had to be nearly a hundred of them. The blasters in their hands were set ready. The large black flags, hung to the stage, starkly contrasted the lush green trees behind them. There was no hiding what was going on here. If the stormtroopers were not enough, the parade of black and grey uniforms which dotted the place certainly told you. This was the beginnings of a new Empire. The men and women here would be a part of that. I would be a part of that. 

My stomach twisted in on itself at the thought. I took a deep breath, I had to stop thinking like that. Luckily, a waiter with a tray full of alcohol walked past at that very moment. I stood up and stopped him, took two glasses and as he walked away, downed them both. The liquid stung as it went down my throat, making me wince and cough a little. But the effects were quickly felt and the knot in my stomach disappeared. I re-entered the party, this was what my life was. No use thinking otherwise. 

--

A few hours passed, we ate the lunch provided and everyone began to file out to the waiting transporters. My family climbed in one, and I began to relax a little. It was over. 

“So what do you think of Armitage, honey?” My mother said, cheerfully as we pulled away.

“Hm?” I wasn’t really listening, “Oh um he was nice,” I said trying to sound confident in my answer. 

“He would make a great husband for you, I think,” 

“Do you?” I asked, already bored by the conversation. We had had this conversation many times. In fact, Armitage was just the last in a long line of First Order members my mother wanted me to marry.

“She can’t marry that asshole,” Lin grumbled.

“Language,” My father scolded from behind his datapad.

“He’s going to be General, you know,” My mother added, as if that fact would make me instantly change my mind.

“So am I,” Lin whined.

“You’re her brother dear, that doesn’t matter,” My mother said. “Kyla, you need to really think about it. Your children could run the galaxy someday!” 

“I don’t know. I don’t think he really liked me,” I said honestly. He really didn’t seem interested in me at all.

“I should work out a dinner date for you two. This could be really good for us dear,” 

“Yes mother,” I sighed, there was no way out of that one and I would rather the conversation stopped before we could get any real details of this date.

“You’re father agrees, don’t you dear?” 

“Yes dear,” My father replied flatly, not looking up from his datapad. My mother smiled and took my hand. 

“Think about it, such cute little red head babies running around. Wouldn’t it just be delightful!” 

My brother frowned, mimicking being sick. I laughed, glad at least someone was on my side, even if it was only out of rivalry with the man in question. My mother scolded him but didn’t bring it up again for the remainder of the journey. 

I looked out the window, watching the scenery fly by. All this talk of the Order was making me think about Rafan’s offer. Let’s say I went for this Hux, married him. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to understand the other side a bit better. I barely knew anything about the Resistance, not many people on Raela did. I would only be conflicted, as long as I was curious. My fear would disappear when I realised that everyone was right all along. 

I decided at that moment that I would go to the Golden Star. If it turned out to be a trick then so be it, my point would be proven and I wouldn’t have to feel so guilty anymore for thinking about the Resistance.

--

Next Chapter ->

hmm what do you think? Should Kyla go to meet Rafan? Is he who he says he is at all? What do we think of Hux? Let me know!! 

tagging: @dracos-jedi-marvel @aliciaxglasgow @cajunquandary @brujademente @waatermelon-sugaar @anstarwar @this-cat-is-dea @seafrost-fangirl @grincheveryday @dindjarinsleftvambrace​

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Burn; Current!Roger Taylor x reader

*Author’s note*

In light of Hamilton coming out on Disney+ today (watched it earlier this afternoon and WAS BLOWN AWAY!!!!!) I wanted to post this for awhile but never had the time nor did I think I was going to but I then thought screw it I'll post it in light of Hamilton. So this fanfic goes around "That would be enough" (If you haven't read that story GO READ THAT CAUSE SPOILERS!!!) but this time it's in YOUR POV. Plus this song had some heavy inspiration for a sequel-ish part of that fic. So I hope you all enjoy it and have a safe and happy 4th of July to my fellow American readers :)

You can read pt.1 here -------> READ ME

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@platawnic

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queensdivas

@geek-and-proud

@kairosfreddie

@queendeakyy

_____________________________________________________________

I sat there in the pub trying to enjoy our victory at the Grammy’s with my Hamilton fam, but what Roger had told me just clouded my mind and it was all I could think about.  He was my dad. All this time I really did have a father, a freakin Rockstar legend no doubt.  The man I had come to idolize out of all the four members of my favorite rock band was none other than my dad.

What if he was lying? Maybe he know about this all along? Maybe he kicked my mother aside as soon as she told him? So many questions were buzzing through my mind.  So many what if’s and maybes that I almost was about to just start bawling right there in the club.

“(Y/n)? You okay?” I felt a hand at my shoulder and when I turned around there stood Lin.  His brown eyes filled with concern.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“You sure? You looked really out of it for a second there.” Said Renée.

“I’ll bet she’s still just star struck from having to sing alongside her favorite rock group. Am I right?” Daveed teased as he wrapped an arm around me and poked my cheek teasingly.

“Yeah how did it feel to be up there with Queen themselves (n/n)? You’ve always raved on about how you wished to perform alongside them.” Leslie said.

“Oh it was—amazing.” I trailed off. “Excuse me.” I removed Daveed’s arm from my shoulders and walked out ot eh club to try and get some air.

Once outside I was automatically hit with the cool winter LA air.  I took a left to the side of the club and leaned up against the wall trying to compose myself.  Of course I wasn’t gonna tell the guys what Roger just told me, no. This was my mess and they don’t deserve this gossip, but I’ve got to see whether Roger Taylor was either playing me for a fool or if in fact he really is my—father.

In the weeks that went by after the award season was done, I called up my mom’s brother and sister, my uncle Bobby and aunt Jodie to finally see just what the truth was.  I first arrived at my aunt Jodie’s home down in Sioux Falls and knocked on the door. The door opened after about five seconds and there stood my aunt Jodie, sheriff of the Sioux Falls police force.

“Hey, there’s my Tony award winning niece.”

“Aunt Jodie you know I didn’t win the award.”

“I don’t care you were denied that award. I’ve heard the album and I saw the show the day it came to Broadway and you were sensational!” I smiled and thanked her with a hug. “Come in, I was just making some coffee before I headed out to start my shift.”

“Oh well if you’re too busy we can talk later.” I said as I was gestured inside.

“Nonsense, besides I’m the sheriff I can come in whenever I want.” She bragged.  I shook my head playfully at her as she went into the kitchen and got the coffee poured out.  “So, you said over the phone that you wanted to talk about your mom, right?”

“In a way.” I said as I took one of the coffee mugs she soon came in with.  She and I sat down in the dining room and she said.

“Okay. What’s going on?”

“Look I’m just gonna cut to the chase. Is Roger Taylor my father?” her eyes widened and she gulped noticeably.

“Wow. That is cutting to the chase.”

“Aunt Jodie please. I’ve—been literally freaking out about this ever since he told me after the Grammy’s……”

“Wait, wait, whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on. You mean you actually met him?”

“Is it true?!” I demanded.  Aunt Jodie set her mug down and sighed heavily.

“God (m/n) you should’ve told her the truth.” She muttered into her hands as she buried her face into them.

“So it is true? Roger Taylor really is my dad?” she turned to me with solemn eyes and took my hand in hers.

“Your mom and Roger were a couple. And they seemed really happy with each other, even from being across the world from each other most days until one day she did move to London with him. God I could’ve sworn they would’ve been married by the end of the year. But you mom showed up at my apartment one night, drenched in the storm that was here that night with a heartbroken expression.”

“So—did he…..dump her? Break her heart?” I snapped lowly.

“Truth be told, your mom left him.” I looked at her in shock. “Yeah. It was also when she told me that she was pregnant. With you. Roger’s child.” She said as she stroked my cheek.  I turned away from her and I said as I stared at my mug of coffee.

“Why the hell would she lie to me all these years?”

“Believe me sweetie. Your uncle Bobby and I tried to convince your mom to tell you the truth. Especially once you heard your first Queen song. And—” But before she could finish her statement, her phone rang.  She picked it up and answered in a firm tone, “Sheriff Jodie……yeah. Okay. Alright I’ll be there soon.” She hung up and sighed heavily. “Sorry sweetie, the team needs me to do a press interview and it can’t wait any longer.”

“I understand.” I said solemnly.

“Here.” She spoke after a moment of silence.  She went over to the living room where she kept all her books and reached the very top of it and pulled out a scrapbook.  “Take this.” She handed it to me.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Your mom got into scrapbooking while she was up there. It—has all the pictures of her and Roger together. She told me to hide this shortly after you were born, but I think now since you know the truth, you should take it.” She held it out to me and I took it.  “You know, if you don’t wanna wait for me. You can see your uncle Bobby. He might have some things to tell you.”

“Wait, uncle Bobby knows about this too?!” I said aghast.  “Did the entire family know about this too? Did grandma and grandpa know about this too?”

“No. Just Bobby and I as her siblings. In fact your grandfather tried to keep your mom away from Roger when they started seeing each other. Said that he was no good for her.” With that she forced herself to leave the house so that she could meet for that press interview.

“Mom—why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?” I sighed as I left aunt Jodie’s place and headed 30 miles north to meet my uncle Bobby over at his place.

I arrived at his home/garage shop and we were both sitting down in the kitchen. He was currently eating a steak and potatoes and he even asked if I wanted anything but I told him I didn’t have the appetite to eat.  I then explained to him everything that I had found out and it was then he gently lowered his fork filled with mashed potatoes and he said grimly.

“So you met your old man?”

“Got to perform with him actually. I know you really don’t do award shows except for the CMA’s but yeah. I performed alongside Queen and Adam Lambert at the Grammys back in February.”

“And he told you that he was your father?”

“Yeah. Aunt Jodie gave me mom’s scrapbook. Would’ve told me more but she had to do a press junket or something like that.”

“Always busy that little sister of mine.” He sighed solemnly. “Listen sweetheart; when your mom first started seeing Roger I knew a bit of his playboy rep. Then again what rockstar back then didn’t have one? I just told her to be careful. Sure I wasn’t all that thrilled with her dating a Brit but I couldn’t stop her. But when Jodie called and told me that she had come back home pregnant with you, I wanted to drag her ass back there and have her tell Roger what had happened.”

“So she left—because of me?”

“Of course not sweetie. Her reason was because of the fact that Queen was finally rising to the heights they had dreamed of. She—she was honestly scared of what Roger would say if she told him. Jodie and I tried to convince her but you know your mama. Stubborn as an ox. Much like yourself.”

He stood up and went to open a drawer and pulled out a small rusted box.  He set it down before me and he told me.

“While your mom could never physically tell you the truth, she tried to see if she could write you a letter. She wrote one every year on your birthday, but could never find the heart to give them to you. She also even wrote some letters to Roger.”

“Let me guess, and she entrusted you with this like she did with aunt Jodie for the scrapbook.”

“There’s also this.” He left and grabbed an envelope from the kitchen cabinet where he would usually keep bills at.  “This…..was the letter she wrote on her deathbed. She entrusted me to give this to you when you were ready. Well, guess now’s a good time as any.” He handed me the envelope and I held that along with touching the lid of the box to reveal hundreds maybe thousands of letters.

I tried to keep the tears at bay from the hurt I was feeling in my chest.  Uncle Bobby was silence for a moment before he said to me.

“Take your time when you read these letters.”

After a couple of months of finally going through all the letter my mum tried to write to both Roger and myself throughout the years, and finally able to see every single picture of her and Roger together I was numb.

I was the only one left up on stage since everyone decided to go out to eat for their lunch break before tomorrow tonight’s performance which would in fact be Lin’s last performance with us on stage.  I took out one specific letter that was actually written just a few days before my mom finally died of cancer, the letter that she was actually able to finish completely with supposedly the right words she needed to tell me.

I had read this letter so many times that I could recite it almost as easy as my lines and the songs from Hamilton.  I sat down at the edge of the stage and looked down at it before taking out my phone and went through my rehearsal track and found the instrumental version of Burn.

Much like I had done once before when I was betrayed by my ex-fiancé at the time I was to star in the show when it first came to Broadway, I sung Burn aloud to myself filling each verse with as much emotion and betrayal I was feeling inside.

However unlike before, I couldn’t help myself but mix up some words to what I would normally sing on stage.

Play video

*Me*

I saved every letter you wrote to us From the moment I read them I knew you were his He said you were his Which makes me his

Do you know what aunt Jodie said, When we saw your first record arrive? You said, be careful with that one, love He will do what it takes to survive

You and your words flooded my senses Your sentences left me defenseless You built me palaces out of paragraphs You built cathedrals

I'm re-reading the letters you wrote to me I'm searching and scanning for answers in every line For some kind of sign And when you were mine The world seemed to burn. Burn.

You published your works to the world You told me of How you brought my mom into your bed In clearing your name You have ruined my life

Do you know what uncle Bobby said When he heard what you'd done? He said, she’s partnered with an Icarus He has flown too close to the sun

You and your words obsessed with your legacy Your sentences border on senseless And you are paranoid in every paragraph How they perceive you You, you, you!

I'm erasing you both from the narrative Let everyone wonder how (Y/n) reacted When you both broke her heart You have torn it all apart I'm watching it burn Watching it burn

The world has no right to my heart The world has no place in your bed They don't get to know what I said I'm burning the memories Burning the letters that

Might have redeemed you both

You forfeit all rights to my heart You forfeit the place in his bed You'll sleep in your office instead With only the memories of when you were mine

I hope you both

Burn

“I haven’t heard you sing that song with that much emotion since your ex fiancé cheated on you.” I turned around and there stood Lin.  He took off his newsies hat and said. “You sure you don’t wanna tell me what’s going on? We’re all worried about you.”

“Just—some personal family drama Lin. You wouldn’t understand.” I said as I sat back down at the edge of the stage.

“I may not get it. But I am willing to lend an ear, if you’d like.” He said as he came up and sat down close to me.  His shoulder brushing against mine as his legs mimicked the same way mine were swinging.

“Why do you always have to make me succumb to your charms Lin Manuel Miranda?” he shrugged while giving me the puppy dog eyes.  I looked down at my letter before handing it over to him. “You can read it out loud if you’d like.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s better than just you reading in silence. My thoughts will just attack me if there’s silence.” He took the letter from my hand and proceeded to read it.

“‘My darling (y/n). I’ve written this letter over a thousand times in both versions. I could never find the right words to say but with my time coming to an end, you deserve to know the truth. You know how you’ve always loved the songs from Queen? Well, it would seem fate has decided to let you hear them for you see your father is known other than the drummer of Queen.’ Whaaaat?”

“I know. In fact Roger Taylor himself told me he was my father right after the Grammy’s. That’s why I was late to celebration. I didn’t want to believe him, thinking he was a senile old man trying to mess with me. But—hehe turns out he wasn’t. I’ve got pictures from my mom’s scrapbook that she made while she was in London of her and Roger together. All domestic like or her being in the studio with them. And then my uncle shows me some of the many letters she’s tried to write not only to me but to Roger himself about this whole shitshow. So yeah Roger Taylor’s my long lost baby daddy. Surprise!”

“My god.” Lin said after a long pause. “No wonder you’ve been out of sorts lately. I can’t blame you.”

“I’m so confused Lin.”

“About what exactly?”

“Everything. My mom lied to me for so long. Not only to me but apparently to Roger as well cause my aunt Jodie said he never knew. But then again I feel this—utter hatred for Roger because he could’ve told me sooner the moment he found out. Or maybe it would’ve been better had he never told me at all. I mean—I never knew I had a dad. I always believe he never cared about me or my mom, or died of a drug overdose or whatever. It feels like—my whole life has been nothing but one big lie. My entire family knew this secret and yet I find out now almost 30 years later that my father is Roger Fucking Taylor. My idol and favorite member of my most favorite rock band!”

“That is seriously a lot to take in. I mean—if I were in your place I’d be reacting the same way. Lost, betrayed, confused, heartbroken.”

“I just—why would she lie to me? I thought we told each other everything, and she goes and hides for all my life of who my real father was.” I sighed heavily. “You know; I used to always come up with the worst scenarios of why I never had a father. It’s all ranged from the basic ‘you get rid of the baby or I’m leaving you’ scenario. To overdosing or whatever. Or just dying of cancer or some shit like that. But no he’s been living his life as a Rock god. I mean—I should hate him but……he never knew. But then he did, how?”

“Well from what I can tell, and from the pictures you’ve shown me of your mom, you both look similar in a way. But your actions is what really makes you like your mom. I’ve seen all the plays she’s been in as a dancer or ensemble and you have that same fire as she did on the stage. It’s like—you both were made for it.”

“But I guess I get it from both of them.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Still I—I feel so angry with her for lying to me.”

“And it’s okay to be angry. And like you said, Roger didn’t know either. He was kept in the dark about it just as much as you were. But maybe when you got to know them along with Adam it might’ve brought some memories back.” He scooted closer to me and allowed me to rest my head on his shoulder.

“What do I do now?” I asked defeated.

“Well there is one option, but you’re not gonna like it.” We looked at each other and I said.

“You’re right I don’t.”

“But you’ve got to. (Y/n). you can be angry about this but don’t stay mad about it forever. Remember he didn’t know either. It’s not like he packed up and took off. Just tell him how you really feel. I’m not saying you have to accept him and call him dad as soon as you see him. Just—tell him you want to take things slow. Maybe go out for coffee or well tea since he’s British.” I softly laughed at that last remark. “Now there’s that fabulous smile my Eliza is known for.”

“Nice touch calling me my character’s name.”

“I know my Eliza like I know myself.” He shrugged.

“You know that’s Renée’s line right?”

“Yeah I know. Remember I wrote the script.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. C’mon Alexander, I’m hungry and we’ve got an until rehearsal.”

“Sure thing, let us spread our wings and fly away.”

“Okay now you’re just showing off.” I playfully shoved him as we left the theatre and went to go get lunch.

After another couple months, which made it four months since Roger Taylor told me the truth, I found myself in London to where I had told Roger and discussed with him with what I was feeling.  He said he was willing to go at whatever speed I needed in order to process this whole thing.

One day after seeing them perform at MSG, Roger and I were sitting together at Central Park right by the Balto statue having a cup of coffee together.

“So what’s new with you my dear?”

“Well…..I’ve been giving this some thought. And—I think it’s time I announced my leaving of Broadway’s Hamilton. Maybe even leaving Broadway all together.”

“Really? What made you decide that?”

“Well. Truthfully I’ve been thinking about……moving to London.” He turned to look at me and I turned to face him.  “Now before you say anything I know I should be thinking about this but I have. My aunt and uncle don’t even live remotely close to me so there’s nothing really tying me to New York. And also, I was—hoping that now that Queen’s done with touring for now, maybe you and I could……spend more time together.”

“I would like that very much.” He said with a warm smile. “I just hope you aren’t doing all this just for my sake. Like I told you before, I’m willing to go at your own pace.”

“And I thank you for that Roger. Truly I do. But…..I gotta stop giving into this anger that’s been festering up inside of me. After all you didn’t know about my mom being pregnant when she left you. And—I guess I just need some time away from home.”

“If you need a place to stay until you get on your feet. Or for even longer than that I will not say no to it. You can stay with Sarina and I. We’ve got more than enough rooms.”

“Thanks……..dad.” he looked at me surprised and he said.

“You—you actually called me…..”

“I figured it was about time I did so. I—hope I didn’t make things….”

“No, no, no, no, no not at all love.” He hesitantly reached up towards my face before he finally placed it up against my cheek.  I closed my eyes and leaned into his palm. “God. You’re—the perfect mixture of both your mother and myself.”

“You know, Daveed always teased me about just how much I looked like you when you were in drag for the I want to break free music video.” He laughed.

“Oh god that was a fun day on set. Probably one of my favorite videos to shoot.” I smiled softly at him and leaned up against his shoulder and said.

“Do you think they would’ve liked me? John and Freddie I mean.” I felt Roger sigh heavily and he said as I felt his arms wrap around me.

“There’s no doubt in my mind Freddie would’ve tried to spoil you. And John, I’d bet he’d be trying to turn you against me.” I softly chuckled and embraced my dad and nuzzled my head into his shoulder.

The two of us hugging each other finally sitting together as a real father and daughter.

[halo-jpeg]

Bearable | A Reddie Fanfiction

Read it from the beginning

Chapter 5

Weak, cold, autumn light seeped in through drawn curtains, accompanied by the sporadic brrrrrringing of an alarm. The sound split the morning silence, tearing Eddie from his sleep, echoing through the entirety of the house more effectively than it was meant to. Eddie let out a groan, trying to reach out a hand and silence the mechanic screaming but just not being able to reach it- frustration sparked inside of his stomach for just a quick moment, and then someone else's hand came down onto the machine, cutting it off mid-ring.

"You set your alarm late," It was Stan, and, not really a surprise, he was already entirely prepared for the day, "Hurry and get up. I'll go make sure Bill is awake. Water is boiled on the stove and I made eggs, too." Stanley was dressed in a pair of bluejeans, as well as a knitted blue sweater he'd loved and worn for the last three years. His hair was styled into it's chaotic, curly perfection, swept gently to one side- he was smiling, a morning person, bright and ready for the day even though it was hardly 7:00 am. Eddie envied that constant 'ready-to-go' attitude Stan faced each new day with, when he- Eddie- had to will himself out of bed every time he opened his eyes.

"Thanks," He mumbled as Stan left the room, sitting up with a sigh and scrubbing his hands over his face to shake the sleep away. Eddie's jaws stretched wide in a yawn, and then he forced himself to abandon the comfortable warmth of his bed and crawl from under the covers. The air around him had a biting chill, the remaining after-effect of the rain that had been coming every now and again since Saturday, sending goosebumps breaking out over Eddie's skin as he made his way to his drawers, pulling open the topmost one to dig out a shirt. Settling on something simple enough, he pulled out a dark grey long-sleeved tee reading 'Back Pages' in bold white lettering and then 'Used Books and More' right underneath, in smaller print- Back Pages had been an- obviously- used bookstore from back in Derry, one of the only places his mother was actually moderately okay with him visiting. Along with the shirt Eddie pulled out brown pants and some miscellaneous belt, throwing the outfit together and running a comb quickly through his hair to tame the unruly bedhead.

"E-Eddie?" Bill's voice came from outside his door, probably in the kitchen, still thick with sleep, "Do you wuh-want tea? Coffee?" Eddie continued around his room, stumbling through the semi-darkness, shouting back his reply,

"Do you know where my chamomile is? Do we have honey?" Eddie grabbed his phone, head tilted towards the door as he waited for Bill's reply- at last, he heard something akin to an 'okay', but more of a grumble than that. With one last glance in the mirror and a silent 'you can do this, Eddie' that was meant to pep him up, he jammed his phone into his pocket and swiped his backpack from where it had been set by the vanity. Grabbing the doorknob and pulling the door right open, Eddie stepped out and hurried across the hall to the kitchen. "My tea?" He asked right away, his gaze darting between Stan, and then Bill, both seated at the small dining table in the far corner- a tall, open window sat behind them- the sky outside was dull and grey with the promise of yet more rain.

"Yeah," Stan nodded, motioning towards the counter right to Eddie's left, "It's poured and ready. Come eat, and hurry- I don't want to be late."

"We won't be late, Stan, w-we've got over an hour." Bill patted Stan's back as he reassured him, partially amused by the constant anxiety and worrying Stan never seemed to stop with- though, of course, that anxiety was pointed towards more realistic things, when Eddie's own anxiety was, in his opinion, stupid and trivial and downright annoying. Eddie poured honey into his chamomile tea, sliding the rest of the scrambled eggs onto a plate, and then took a seat at the table. "Wuh-what classes do you guys have? I have English all d-day. Lit-literature and then luh-languages."

"Biology first, and then Mathematics." Eddie's eyes brightened at Stan's words.

"I have math second, too! Thank fuck- I suck at that stuff," Just as Eddie was about to continue, saying something regarding Stan and Bill's natural ability to do almost anything right, his phone beeped in his pocket and he remembered that he hadn't turned it on a single time since last night. He was quick to pull it from it's place, looking at his newest message- his brows screwed together, and he caught the skin of his cheek between his teeth, racking his brain to see if he recognized the unknown number that had texted him.

"What's wrong with you? Are the eggs bad?" Stan tilted his head, leaning in his chair to try and glance over Eddie's shoulder to catch sight of the screen of his Nokia. Eddie held it just out of sight.

"Do either of you know this number?" Rapidly, Eddie read it out, and it didn't ring any bells in either other boys brain. Bill shrugged, Stan lost interest- they both returned to their breakfast as Eddie read over the message once more. All it said was,

What ur schedule look like, penne?

It didn't make any sense. Eddie texted back and then put the phone down on the table to dig into his own food.

Who is this?

The eggs were great, as usual- Stan was one hell of a cook even though he'd only ever learned from his own personal trial and error. A light conversation was picked up again, the first topic being that of the rain. Eddie barked out a few complaints about the grey weather, how he was afraid to catch a cold and wished he had a thicker jacket and maybe rain boots, or a car, actually, yes that would be ideal. Bill said he liked the rain, Stan said he was indifferent but was enjoying the weather for what it was. Through bites of food and sips of early-morning tea, the three finished up their eggs and tossed the dishes into the sink, ready to go any minute now. Before Eddie could slip into his shoes his phone beeped again and he was quick to swipe it up and look at the response.

Come on conchiglie! U rlly dont rmmber me?

Eddie scoffed, his brows knitting together once more. Through his sleep-haze he couldn't think of a single person he knew that he didn't already have in his contacts- at least, no one that would care about his schedule. He had a few aunts and uncles that he hardly saw but they wouldn't be messaging him now of all times, he didn't think. And what the fuck was 'conchiglie'? Eddie was clueless- Big Bill, one shoe on and the other in his hands, pulled up at Eddie's side in a silent request to be shown what was so odd. Without complaint other than a sigh, Eddie shifted the phone over, and Bill scanned the texts before letting out a bark of laughter and sharing an amused glance with Stan that seemed to communicate everything.

"Oh?" Stan said with a cheeky grin, realization donning itself on his face, pressing in on Eddie's other side to read the messages for himself, "He finally texted?"

"What?" Eddie tried to ask, but he was ignored as Bill said,

"What's with the pasta names?" Eddie was way more confused now. Again, he repeated his 'what?' and again he was ignored, "Penne? Conchiglie? I don't g-get it. What an i-idiot." Oh- just like that it clicked together and Eddie's jaw dropped open. Penne, conchiglie- pasta... spaghetti... Eddie Spaghettie- Eds- Eddie- Richie.

"No, no no no no- Which one of you gave him my fucking number? What the hell?" Eddie jammed his phone into his pocket, rounding on Bill and taking in the expression on his face- it was amused, sure, but Eddie could already read the tiniest lines of innocence forming in his features. The way Bill's gaze flickered for a tenth of a second towards Stan told Eddie everything that he needed to know. "Stanley Uris what did you do?" Eddie spun to Stan, hands on his hips, glowering upwards at the much, much taller boy. Despite forcing every ounce of intimidation into his words as he could, Stan was grinning from ear to ear, sinister and ultimately unthreatened- his eyes were bright as stars and gleaming with mischief. "You know I hate that guy! He's- He's- He's so annoying! He's loud and he's rude and he's- I can't believe you!"

"Edward," Stan said in an even, polished tone, redirecting his gaze to slip on his shoes, "One of these days in the near future you'll be thanking me for getting you out in the world," Bill let out a snicker, and Eddie jammed his elbow into his ribs, silencing him effectively, "You need friends who aren't just me and Bill. Richie, Ben, Beverly, Mike- they're nice people, and you need to get out of that shell of yours."

"Oh, you're on to talk!" Eddie crossed his arms, and then uncrossed them just after to put on his shoes in a huff, "You're ten billion times more shy than I am, Stanley. I'm just fine with only you two as my friends, I don't need other people- I mean, I went 19 years of my life with no one but you two! I survived Henry fucking Bowers with just you guys to keep me safe! I don't need other people in my life." Now, Bill was cutting in and the tension in the hallway to the front door spiked upwards. Eddie realized now that the entire topic of conversation was about to change for the worse- shit, he'd let his mouth run, and now he was going to be pitied. Eddie hated pity. It made him ill.

"E-Eds, you cu-can't go your entire life with o-only me and Stan. I mean," Bill chuckled, his eyebrows slanted sympathetically, "I know we're g-great and all, but your muh-mother has kept you from having healthy social t-ties for your whole life. It's healthy to have more than o-one or two friends." The mention of his mother sent a tidal wave of homesickness propelling right over Eddie's head- a bitter, frightening, nasty homesickness- and suddenly he felt like curling up underneath his covers and crying his eyes out, but he wouldn't. He balled his hands into fists, gritted his teeth together, and turned to the door. His bag was slung over his shoulder.

"Let's go." Eddie kept his head low and pulled the door open, pushing out into the hallway and going straight for the elevator without another word. Bill didn't want to let the topic drop just yet, but a nudge and a shake of the head from Stan was enough to get him to do just that- the shake of Stan's head said let him have this one, Big Bill. It's his first day of school. Give him a break. And so, the conversation was over, to hopefully be picked up again at a later date.

-----

Richie, earbuds in, King of Rock 'N' Roll playing at full volume, burst in a flurry from his music classroom and made a beeline for the stairwell at the end of the hall. Like some agile snake or cat, he dodged and weaved between other students as they poured from their own respective classes, determined to break out into the sunlight and share his contentedness with his friends.

"Tozier! Don't run in the halls!" Some teacher scolded him, but as Prefab Sprout continued jabbing away at his eardrums he didn't hear it- and he didn't really care to hear it either- he was too busy riding the high that the schools new set of drums had given him. Ever since Richie grew so involved with the rock genre and everything alike, he had wanted to learn to play the drums but had never been given the chance until today. Now, Mr. Carr had basically had to chase Richie from the class with a broom like he was some sort of radical street rat. With his big, goofy grin Richie sent himself flying down the stairs, taking them three at a time and not even wincing at the way his knees protested with every heavy landing. The doors to the outside were within his sights as soon as he touched down onto the first floor. Still pushing past other students, not even bothering with any courteous 'pardon me's' he was at them in an instant. In time with the thudding of the music, he shoved the doors open and went, quite literally, dancing and spinning out into the warming sunlight, which had just begun to peek through the clouds. From across the large expanse of concrete just outside the doors sat an emptying bike rack, and leaning against it he spotted more than the usual quantity of familiar faces.

"Top 'o tha afternoon to ye, Haystack, sor! An' Mr. O'Hanlon, awful good!" As Richie pulled out his earbuds, music so loud it was still audible even as they dropped to hand at his side, he took a dramatic double-take and let out a loud gasp, "Well, if it isn't so!" Now, Richie was the Southern Bell rather than the Irish Cop, and he was taking Bill's hands in his and fluttering his lashes through his thick-framed glasses, "Sir Bill, and your noble companions! What have I done to be graced with your presences, my fair gentlemen?"

"You know you'll ruin your eardrums listening to your music that loud, right? You can't fix Tinnitus- and if you go deaf you'll have hearing aids for the rest of your life." Eddie gripped the straps of his backpack, his eyes flickering down to Richie'e earbuds, which were dangling dangerously close to the dirty ground- much too close for comfort. Eddie almost shuddered.

"Aw, thanks for the concern Spaghetward!" Richie let go of Bill, moving for Eddie instead, and slung his arm enthusiastically over the shorter boys shoulders. In return, as if it were instinct, Eddie let out a sound like the croak of a frog and ducked away with a grimace.

"Don't call me that, jackass!" Out of the entire group, the only one who was observant enough to note the faint red tint on Eddie's face was Mike, and he wasn't going to call the poor boy out on it.

"I see you're all getting along swell, huh?" Richie's dark gaze shifted from Ben and Mike to Bill and Stan, and then, lastly, to Eddie, where they lingered for just a second longer.

"Stan and Eddie were in math with me," Ben says with his small, kind smile, "Stan is some sort of super-genius or something- Eddie, too. I don't get it." Without missing a beat, Eddie let out an exasperated sound, shaking his head furiously.

"No, no no, don't lob me in with Stanley. He's the super-genius, I just nod my head and act like I know what he's talking about." Stan was quick to decline.

"Oh, don't say that. You're getting it."

"Hey, Bev's in working at the cafe today- are you guys interested in stopping by with me, Rich and Ben?" The next one to speak was Mike, and his offer was met with a cacophony of different replies; Ben seemed content with the idea, his smile going wider at the thought; Bill was quick to agree, and Stan was much the same, though Eddie didn't see to thrilled. He let out a sound as if he was going to speak, but then he clamped his jaw shut, mouth a straight line, and bit his tongue. Richie himself was positively ecstatic. His already bubbly mood was only amplified by this suggestion, and his grin was so bright it could blind.

"Oh, you have to come! The sun is out for once, you can't go curl up in whatever cave you're renting. Whaddaya say?" Swinging his backpack off his shoulders, Richie pulled his walkman free and clicked the 'pause' button, then proceeded to, unceremoniously, jam both it and the earbuds in his bag once more.

"I'm down," Bill said, glancing at Stan, who nodded, and then at Eddie, who shrugged curtly and stared intently at the ground below his feet.

"Great!" Zipping his bag back up and throwing it onto his shoulders, Richie moved to lead the way, and before the group knew it they were off, headed for the campus' outskirts and following their trusty guide, Richie Tozier, towards Portland Authentic. The stroll was quaint, amiable- Stan hung near the back with Mike and Bill, pointing out the different types of birds they spotted on the walk. Richie had thought every bird here in Portland was just some old rock pigeon, but now he knew that there were actually mourning doves as well. Ben was at Richie's side, hands in his pockets, his neck craned so that his face was upturned towards the sunlight. Eddie was, though reluctant, to Richie's other side, desperately trying to tune out the bird talk behind him. His annoyance was evident, but there was also a subtle fondness in his soft, brown eyes that showed how much he cared for Stan and his passions.

"Does he talk about pigeons a lot? You seem peeved." Eddie almost jumped right out of his skin at Richie's sudden words, having been totally spaced out in his desperate attempts to disassociate. Awkwardly, he lifted a hand and scratched at the back of his neck.

"Oh, uh," Eddie's gaze darted over his shoulder towards Stan, and then to Richie, and then back at his shoes, his worn black Converse sneakers, "Yeah. He loves them, but... I don't know why. They kinda-" Eddie cut himself off with a shrug, his hand dropping to his side once more, "Kinda gross, don't you think? With their weird feathers and their gross feet? All of their, like, diseases and shit?" Richie's cheeks had begun to hurt from the stretch of his smile. Something today was just making him giddy. His chest was tight with unadulterated glee, and it felt like something was pushing around in his stomach, like butterflies. Eddie was so impossibly earnest. The affection in his gaze directed at Stanley was heartwarming, the exact same kind of best-friend love that Richie had with Bev, Ben and Mike. Despite Eddie being disgusted by birds he was clearly still glad that Stan had something to be so passionate about- cute.

"I dunno," Richie said, a tilt to his head, "I think birds are kind of cool. Especially magpies? Oh, God," Richie took a few steps ahead, and then spun on his heel to walk backwards, facing Eddie and talking animatedly with his hands, "If I had the chance I would have a pet magpie. They're so pretty- their feathers look all blue in the sunlight and stuff, and they get so fluffed out when they're pissed." Eddie looked dumbfounded, his brows furrowed, his jaw dropped- disgusted, that was the word for the expression he wore.

"Are you fucking kidding me? A magpie? Those stupid, nasty black birds with the white chest? Jesus, what's wrong with you?" Running a hand over his face, Eddie let out a huff- Richie's smile grew, somehow, if that was even possible, at the distress his words seemed to have caused in the smaller boy. Seeing him all worked up like this made that weird feeling in Richie's chest grow tenfold. Brushing that thought away, still walking backwards, he let Eddie continue. "They don't know how to shut up. Every Spring, ever Autumn- they would be screaming away at the crack of dawn. I could never catch a wink of sleep. My mommy used to fire at them with my dads old BB gun, but she never hit any of them."

"And thank fuck for that!" Richie scoffed, playful, "Those poor things don't deserve to be shot." Eddie countered with a quick 'yes they do', and then the bickering continued. Their back-and-forth, the lighthearted, heated-on-Eddie's-end banter felt perfectly natural. Richie would say some quip, some little thing about magpies that he found nice or cute or interesting, and then Eddie would come right back at him with why that was false. Richie probably should have been listening to these comebacks, but he found himself getting, more often than not, distracted by little things like the cinnamon-dusting of freckles across the bridge of Eddie's nose or the way his chocolate-toned hair was swept so tidily to one side, not a single hair out of place. Sooner or later, Portland Authentic had come into view, the glass windows showing through to the bustling interior. The after-school rush had just hit, and boy was Richie glad he had the day off today. As he pushed the door open, the bird conversation cut short, he noted exactly how busy it was. The line was huge, nearly reaching the entrance, and almost every single seat was taken except for one four-person table in the back corner.

"I'll get the table." Stan's tone was serious, his gaze determined, "Get me a-"

"B-Black coffee, yeah," Bill was smiling, waving Stan off with one hand. At once, with a final nod of affirmation, Stan sped away to secure the seats. Though Richie didn't say anything, he thought to himself how the hell can someone like black coffee? because there were so many other options, sweet drinks, savory, peppermint or rich chocolate- drinking straight black coffee as a regular was basically a sin in his eyes. Slow and steady, the line progressed, Bev behind the counter working with two other people named Britney and Mason. Richie wasn't too fond of them and honestly pitied poor Bev having to deal with them all alone. It had been a good two or three weeks since she's been stuck in a shift without Ben or Richie at her side. Finally the group of five arrived at the till and Beverly's face brightened like a Christmas tree.

"Rich! Ben! Mike, Bill, Eddie- Great to see you guys, my God, today has been absolute hell-" She seemed to notice she was getting sidetracked, and shook her head, frazzled, getting back into her working head space. "Sorry. What can I get you guys?"

"An affogato for me, my dear, and- Hey, Eds, do you like ice cream? Whatever- Get a second one for him, too. He needs to branch out a little." Eddie gaped, seconds from a retort as Richie ordered for him, but then Richie stepped aside and shot him a glance that was unusually sincere. "Hey, don't worry. It's another low-caffeine one, and it's more vanilla ice cream than anything else. You'll love it, I swear."

"Yeah, fine," Eddie set his jaw tight.

"One bl-black coffee and an amer-amer-am-" Bill bit his tongue, screwing his eyes shut, and then, with a sigh, forced out the words, "americano. Jesus." Bev gave him a calm smile, a silent 'it's alright, dude' and turned to Ben and Mike who ordered a coffee with two creams and two sugars and a lemonade. Richie offered to pay, abusing his employees discount, and then the group all turned to the table in the corner where Stan was still seated with a book in his hand. As the group approached he placed the small origami crane he used as a bookmark between the pages of The Shining and tucked the novel away- the front cover had been battered and frayed, a sign of having been read and reread for years and years. Clearly, the book was cherished.

"Great choice, Stanny," Richie complimented with a nod towards Stan's backpack, where the book had been hidden away, "You a fan of horror?" Stanley was quick to shake his head, hugging himself gently and running his hands along his upper arms.

"I hate it. Bill is making me read it. It's torture." Bill let out a barking laugh as he took his seat, having pulled up an extra chair from another table. Two people would have to squish into the corners since this spot was only meant to seat four- no one seemed to mind.

"So you're the horror fanatic, then. Glad to see we have something in common! What's your favourite movie?" Taking his own seat on Stan's other side, Richie held his head up with his hand, elbow planted on the tabletop, his curiosity officially piqued. Ben and Mike weren't fond of the gore-packed stuff Richie enjoyed, so Bev was the only one who ever went to the theater with him; the idea of having another friend to catch some films with was just swell.

"That's tough to suh-say," Bill tapped his finger against the table, glancing sidelong at Eddie, "We went to see H-Halloween a few years back. I luh-liked that one a lot, but now wh-whenever I see it I think of when your m-mom found out-"

"Shut up, Bill," Eddie cut him off with a harsh glare, and then forced his expression to soften, covering up his snappiness with a red face and a sarcastic, "D-Don't remind me." It was clear he was embarrassed- Richie would have pressed, since he couldn't keep his trashmouth shut sometimes (all the time), but Beverly saved the day by hurrying over with a tray balanced precariously on one hand. Atop that tray sat the array of beverages that the group of six had ordered. With Beverly's fantastic memory, she began to hand out cup after cup to exactly who had requested them; Ben got his double-double, Mike his lemonade, Bill his americano, Stan his black coffee (Beverly knew it was for him even though he hadn't been at the till- not many people ordered coffee black and she remembered him from that first night.). Richie and Eddie were given their double order of affogato, an Italian coffee-based dessert consisting of a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a shot of espresso on the side.

"Thanks, Bevvie," Richie bid her adieu with a two-fingered salute and then turned all of his attention towards Eddie, "Alright," he began, "Eds,"

"-Don't call me that-"

"-you're about to taste the best thing you've ever had in your life. Follow my lead," Richie plucked up the small one-ounce shot glass of espresso, and, reluctantly, Eddie did the same. In tandem, they poured the coffee over the ice cream, then grabbed their spoons. Eddie was the first to take a scoop, shooting Richie a glance that he couldn't decipher before taking the bite. For the quickest second his eyes seemed to light up, and then he swallowed down the obvious delight and simply shrugged his shoulders.

"It's alright, I guess," He grumbled, and then proceeded to devour the next bite of the treat. Richie grinned wide, taking a scoop of his own and lifting it into the air, accepting his victory.

"I would like to propose a toast!" He called, and all eyes turned to him, "To Stuttering Bill, Stan the Man, and Eddie Spaghetti- Welcome to the Losers Club!" With a cheer from nearly all- Eddie settling for a small smile- the group burst into friendly chatter. Richie's toast held some sort of unseen monumental weight- everyone felt it- even Beverly, who was behind the counter and working away, had paused to raise her water bottle with bright eyes. Though everyone felt it- it, being that feeling of rightness- no one said a word. It wasn't necessary. Richie, Ben, Beverly and Mike had been a quartet for a few years now, as thick as thieves- they had called themselves the 'Losers Club' and, until Eddie, Stan and Bill arrived, the four of them had been the only members. No one could be certain what had changed, but, just like that, all seven knew that they were a singular unit. It was no longer Richie, Ben, Beverly and Mike. Now, it was Richie, Ben, Beverly, Mike, Eddie, Bill and Stan. The Losers Club with a capital L and a capital C.

In a fleeting moment, Eddie caught Bill's gaze, and held it. The redhead was wearing his leadership smile, that easy-breezy full-face grin that so easily gained him respect. Once the two's eyes clicked, that smile shifted into something else, something softer, something that Bill reserved for Eddie. It was a brotherly smile- After all, Bill was the brother Eddie had never had. Bill was the rock, the island in the middle of the ocean, the one thing that never failed to keep Eddie sane, the solace in the storm that had been his mother, and was now the unfamiliar territory of Portland. In that smile was an unspoken promise, as well as something else. The promise was These people will keep you safe. The 'something else' was Bill's pride- his pride in Eddie. I'm proud of you, Eds, the smile said. You're doing great. For the first time in his life, Eddie was fearless. His own smile said Thank you.

[marmolady]

Livita: Part Two

Book/Series: Endless Summer

Main Pairings: Estela x MC/Taylor (f)

Summary: Post-ending. Freed from Vaanu, Taylor has been building a life with her soulmate… but their family remains not quite complete. Read PART ONE and PART THREE.

Word Count: 3545

Reviews and reblogs are hugely appreciated!

Tagging: @sceptilemasterr​ @saivilo​ @greengroove 

San Trobida, March 2023

 The months initially dragged by; the nervous wait for those vital early milestones agonising. Life had taught Estela that nothing good ever came easily; at any moment this could all turn to tragedy-- she woke up each morning with no expectation that she wouldn’t have lost the baby by the next. Taylor was far more secure in her optimism, though at times it did threaten to crumble. Some five weeks in, the pair were married, officially, in the grounds of Catalyst International’s new San Trobidan resort, surrounded, of course, by their extended family. At the end of the night, Estela had said ‘screw you’ to fate, and confided her condition to her tio, who had wept with joy. His belief in her, the support unyielding as always, did wonders to help her through those most vulnerable days.

After the twelve week scan, there was a joint exhale of relief, and the reality that this was happening at last began to set in. Through those early months, home was San Trobida with Tio Nicolas. In time, Estela and Taylor would return to La Huerta, where they had always planned to raise their child, close to Aleister and Grace’s own little family, and to Diego and Varyyn. Estela would not be fit to travel for a whole lot longer, though, so the time spent with her uncle was precious.  While in San Trobida, Taylor was faced with a rush to establish her youth programmes during the brief window in which she’d be available with her full attention. The country was in the midst of a great rebirth, its people boldly stepping out from the shadows left by the cruel dictatorship that the revolutionaries had brought to its knees. To be able to play her own part in that story was, to Taylor, an immense honour, and a responsibility she took very seriously. Those fleeting months were intense, with meetings on top of meetings and enough networking to test even her people skills. Once the baby arrived, everything else would take a back seat, and her role would be as a part-time counsellor specialising in LGBTQ+ youth, and a mentor to students-- all of which she could carry out from their La Huerta home.

Estela had slowly dialed back her role with Catalyst International-- with both herself and Aleister on parental duties, delegation had become increasingly necessary. She kept up with the few bits and pieces that interested her, primarily assistance and scholarships for San Trobidan students, which allowed her to work nicely in tandem with Taylor, but anything else could be someone else’s problem. Staying with her uncle, a sense of peace had descended upon Estela. Her body gradually changed-- and morning sickness had plagued her-- but she took it in her stride.

The front door creaked as Taylor strode through. “Honey, I’m home!” She found Estela sitting cross-legged on the couch, leafing through a collection of baby sewing patterns. “Hey, are you feeling better?”

“Better. You didn’t have to come home….”

“As if I need an excuse to be with you.” Taylor crossed the room, and sat herself beside her wife. “I finished what I needed to get done. So, I got myself back to where I needed to be.”

Estela huffed happily. “I won’t complain. Maybe we could work on that blanket some more. You know how much of a kick Tio gets out of the sight of me knitting.”

“Yeah,” Taylor giggled. “He laughs, but I’m pretty sure he knows you are more than capable of disemboweling someone with those needles if a threat came up.”

“Of course. A spear could never be so subtle.”

They laughed together, then Estela took Taylor’s hands. “Actually, I wanted to share something with you, in my room. We can knit at the same time.”

Estela’s old room had changed little since she was a teenager; it was a cramped but cosy space, decked out with just a few shelves of childhood possessions and faded photographs upon a narrow dresser. Nowadays, alongside the charred-edged photo of a young Estela on the beach with her mother and uncle, was another of Estela-- now older, far more battle-scarred and world-weary-- on the very same beach, her arms around a smiling Taylor. Sat on that worn single bed, Estela could enjoy the comfort of familiarity as she carried on her journey toward a great unknown… and with her wife beside her, she found the courage to face the shadows that crept in along with those memories.

“Gordita, I made you up some of your horrible patacones,” Nicolas announced, pushing open the bedroom door with a shoulder as he presented a large plate. Since the pregnancy had been announced, Estela had been his gorda, with no care paid to how small her bump might actually be. At six months along, though, the belly was living up to that new nickname. “I despair. You get rid of one dictator, and suddenly we have jumped-up young people thinking they can eat peanut butter and jelly with their patacones. Is this the terrible price of freedom? Have I made a grave error?”

Estela snorted with laughter, taking the plate as her uncle kissed her forehead. “And yet you made these up for me; I must be very loved.”

“Always, mija. But you should notice there are some with mango salsa for your poor wife. I won’t have her suffer for your insanity.”

Taylor smiled, gratefully taking a patacone.Nicolas has been doting on the both of them relentlessly since the news had been broken-- Taylor didn’t think she’d ever seen him quite so happy. When the time finally came for them to leave for La Huerta, it would be a great wrench. “Cheers! You’re the best.”

“I’ll have that in writing, Taylita.” Nicolas’ eyes twinkled as he looked over his nieces. The time was fast approaching that they would be on their way again, ready to start the greatest of adventures. He would miss them so. La Huerta had never been a draw to him-- he’d not visited once-- but there was no doubt in his mind that even his stubbornness would have to concede once Estela had that baby in her arms. There was not a force on heaven or earth that could keep him away. “Okay, gorda. I will leave you to it. I’m sure you’ll let me know if you have any other culinary abominations you want me to whip up.”

“Thanks, Tio.”

Alone together in their small sanctuary, Estela and Taylor cuddled close. Taylor braved a nibble of one of Estela’s controversial patacones and admitted that Nicolas had a point. Those things just weren’t right.

“I’m with Tio,” she said. “Our little nene has played havoc on your taste buds.”

Estela chuckled, more forced than she’d have liked. There was something else on her mind. And it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Hey. Are you okay? You had something you wanted to show me?”

For a moment, Estela considered changing her mind. It had been over a decade that she’d avoided this, what was to say that now was suddenly the right time? The bump of a little foot up against her ribs gave her clarity. She wanted to show this to her baby someday; that meant she had to brave it. She pulled up her laptop and placed it on the bedside table, then rummaged in a drawer, taking out a disc.

“It’s… it’s our old home videos.” She took a deep breath. “Tio put it on a DVD ages back to make sure we didn’t lose it, and he had an extra copy made for me. You know, just in case I ever….” Her cheeks became pink. “I… I haven’t watched this for a long time.” How long, she didn’t say, but she didn’t doubt that Taylor would know, understand.

Taylor squeezed her wife, her own pulse quickening. She knew this was huge. “I would love to watch with you. So much. But only if you’re really ready.”

“I think sometimes, the closest thing you’re ever going to get to being ready is wanting to be.” Estela offered a wobbly smile as she picked up on Taylor’s concern. “Mi amor, I’m okay. I’m doing this with you.”

She leaned into Taylor as the DVD began to play. Then came a voice that made her heartbeat quicken.

“Hola Nicolas!” Olivia said, waving with one hand, while she supported the small infant Estela with the other. “Here she is! This is your niece. This is Estela.”

Taylor felt Estela’s hand clench around the bottom of her shirt, clinging on for comfort. She placed her own hand on top and gently squeezed. I’m here.

They watched as Olivia placed the infant in a bassinet, then picked up the camera to give a tour of her home.

“So, this is the first place I lived; my mom’s apartment in Colombia,” Estela explained, her voice shaking at first, then steadying. This… didn’t hurt as much as she’d anticipated. If anything, it was a comfort. The last pieces of film she’d seen of her mother had been that horrifying footage in the Elysian, and the VR warning message from Olivia’s office in the MASADA complex. This was Estela’s mother as she knew her, the person she’d been missing so painfully. There was the inevitable pang of longing as she looked at that face, but the wash of memories made her seem closer than she’d been for so many years. “It was a few months before she had everything sorted so we could move to Tio Nicolas’ place, so Mom made a videotape to send him. A friend at the lab she worked at gave her the camera; it was so Tio could see the new baby, but we used it a long time after that.”

With the apartment tour complete, the camera was placed down on some unseen table or stand, and Olivia came back into the frame, picking up baby Estela and cradling her in her arms.

“If you’re lucky, you might get a smile out of her,” Olivia said, grinning as she gently tickled Estela under her chin. “The twentieth of July was her first real smile. You’re going to laugh at me, but I cried. Maybe you’ll get it when you meet her. She’s just so, so beautiful. I swear I’m addicted to this girl.”

Taylor snuggled under Estela’s arm, and watched, entranced, as the baby on the screen grew and changed under the loving care of her mother, and then uncle as well.

“Wow, Tio Nicolas looks different!” she commented, to Estela’s chuckle. Time, unimaginable stress, and facial hair could do that to a person. It was impossible not to smile as she watched the young Nicolas bouncing his little niece on his foot. That he’d be utterly, totally smitten with Estela’s own child had to be the surest thing in the world. Taylor saw on that screen an image of a dream come true, a future that now lay before her and Estela. God, could I be any more clucky right now?

“That’s going to be us, Taylor. Our own little family.”

Instinctively, Taylor put her hand to Estela’s bump, stroking it. Her family with her soulmate; it wasn’t what she’d been made for, but she was certain it was what she was meant for.

“I’m going to be someone’s mom. When I think about it, it’s just… incredible.” She cuddled in close, and gently kissed Estela’s cheek and forehead. “It means so much that you shared this with me.” She gestured to the screen. That had taken a whole lot of bravery. “Watching this… I see so much of you when I see your mom.”

“She would have been an amazing abuelita,” Estela said softly. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply. Her mother’s sacrifice had brought her to Taylor. This new family would carry a great deal of Olivia Montoya’s influence, though she’d never know. “Thank you. I know it’s silly for me to say this, but I really appreciate you saying that. I’m gonna do her proud.”

The child on the screen was older now, toddling around the so-familiar house on stumpy legs. She held in her arms a soft doll.

“Oh-- that’s Babydoll. I was… creative at naming things when I was two. Mami gave him to me on my birthday, and I just took him everywhere. It always made sense to me; there was no way in hell Mami would ever leave me it home, so how could I ever leave my baby?”

“So, when you say you always wanted to be a mom?”

“Yeah, it goes back a long way.” Estela stroked her belly, meeting Taylor’s hand there. “I’m glad I had no idea just how rough the path would be… how that dream just burned and died. But we’re going to get there.”

She could see it. A lot of what had made her childhood had been lost in a wash of pain and trauma, but it couldn’t be taken away completely. Those memories, there before her, they were still a part of her. Those warm family moments were hers to pass on to her own child.

“Actually, I think Mom kept Babydoll. Maybe as a souvenir of my brief period of childhood innocence. I should dig him out--” She faltered, and her cheeks flushed. This shouldn’t still be a problem….

Catching on in an instant, Taylor squeezed Estela’s knee, and met her eye with a warm and loving gaze. “We have time. And if we need to enlist Tio Nicolas to do most of the necessary rummaging, that’s fine too. It would be really nice for nene to have something of yours.” Memories were powerful. They made up so much of who each person was. Lacking her own childhood, Taylor had found herself gain a great deal from Estela’s, something that had always been generously shared with no hesitation, in spite of the pain that came with those memories. That family history was important, and it bonded them together.

With a small, appreciative smile, Estela nodded. “Yes… we have time.”

  La Huerta, May 2023

 “Right; tell me. Which end am I kissing?” Taylor scooched forward in the sand, reveling in the gentle heat of the lowering sun upon her back and shoulders.

“That’ll be nene’s back.” Estela gestured to her lower belly, then the top. “Head. Butt. Right where they should be.”

Taylor smiled warmly, and went back to lay another kiss against her wife’s swollen abdomen. “Bub’s got it all worked out. Ready to high-tail it outta there and start lapping up the cuddles.”

“It’s come around fast,” Estela stated. It had. Almost too fast. Pregnancy had been an adjustment for sure, but she’d become comfortable with sharing her body with the small passenger. She could take care of herself, and that meant that baby’s needs were met too. What came next was a great unknown. Estela knew better than most how good intentions of keeping a beloved child out of harm’s way could go up in flames. What her life had been… grateful though she was for the person it had made her, she didn’t want a life like that for her baby. She could tell herself that it would be different, that the fight was over, but she’d seen too much to not be protective. The person she might have gone to for reassurance, the person who’d truly have understood, was long lost to her. Rarely had Estela missed her own mother more than in these days leading up to the big event. It made her all the more grateful for Taylor; already completely besotted with the tiny person they were waiting to meet. In Taylor, her loving hero, she had all the faith in the world.

“Yeah...” Taylor put on a forlorn gaze as she looked up into Estela’s shining eyes. “Just a few more days, and I won’t be able to outrun you anymore. I’m pretty devastated.”

“You’re a beautiful dork, Taylor. But don’t worry. You’ll be able to keep ahead of nene for a few years, if you’re lucky.”

Taylor snuggled into Estela’s lap, and together, they watched the sun journey towards the horizon. The rising tide licked at their bodies. All was peaceful, tranquil; the only sounds were the rolling of the waves, the calls of tropical birds, and the distant laughter of children in Elyys’tel, voices carried upon the wind. Taylor quietly studied Estela from head to toes, taking in everything. The pregnancy had added further lines to Estela’s scar-painted body; marks of something happy at last. Her carriage gave off a quiet confidence; the baby was safe in its strong, resilient vessel. And in Estela’s face, once the vision of heavy burdens, so great that it might might have been those of the whole world… quiet, happy serenity. Taylor felt a wave of affection wash over her. It happened to her a lot. Goodness knew how she’d ever get anything done when she had Estela and the baby to love on all day.

“Estela?”

“Mi amor?”

“You know, I think a part of me is going to miss this. Being able to put my arms around you and hold the two people I love most in the world at the same time.”

Estela’s lips quirked into a smile. “You’ll still be able to do that. Soon enough, baby will be hugging you back.”

“It’s… got to be normal to be a little scared, right? I’ve got nothing, nothing at all to look back and remember as a reference for how the hell to raise a kid. What if I--”

“Taylor.” Estela took Taylor’s face in her hands; gentle but firm. God, Taylor… no one could ask for more than to be loved by you. “I’m scared too. But I’d be a hundred times more scared if I wasn’t doing this with you. It’s a whole actual person depending on us. A whole person we could screw up in a million different ways. But we won’t. Taylor, look at me. You won’t. Just… be scared with me. And all of us… we’ll be okay.”

Taylor pulled herself up and put both arms around Estela. Holding the two people she loved most at the same time. To be scared with Estela was almost to not be afraid at all. “You’re right. Wise Mama Estela.”

“Because of you. Don’t forget that.” And Estela kissed the tip of her beloved’s nose, growing cold with the retreat of the sun. She gave a little wink. “Mama Taylor.”

Her eyes glazing dreamily as she stared out to the sunset over the sparkling sea, Taylor felt a little kick against the arm that she had around Estela’s middle. She didn’t even need to look to know that there would be the most beautiful of smiles across her wife’s face. Pure elation. Mama Taylor? She could get used to that.

[the-hidden-writer]

An Odd Family Tree

A series of snippets from the lives of the FitzSimmons family, set post 7x13. Also, the series of events that lead up to the birth of their grandson.

Available to read on AO3 and FF.net.

Comments make my day!

Chapter 26: Ever After

“So please, just tell me once and for all… who did I name my son after?”

Jemma turned to Fitz for help, she truly didn’t know what to say, but her husband was still frozen in his place, his mouth moving but not quite managing to form words.

So it was up to her, then. She took a deep breath- if she was going to tell her daughter the truth, then she might as well tell her everything rather than insult her intelligence.

“Alya, d-darling, do you remember the mission we told you about? The one where we were sent to the future to save the world from getting torn apart?”

Alya was quiet for a few moments before she replied. “I remember.”

“Well,” Jemma continued, her voice sounding as heavy as her heart felt in the unusually tense kitchen, “do you remember how we got back to the present?”

“Something to do with Uncle Enoch, right?” Alya questioned skeptically. She only had very vague memories of Uncle Enoch, but there were plenty of pictures showing the pair together. What she definitely couldn’t remember was him being a robot. He’d always just felt like a part of the family.

“Y-Yeah.” Fitz affirmed. “It is. B-But in order to get us home, h-he-”

“He needed backup.” Jemma said, and Fitz shot her a grateful look. “And so an… um, ally we’d made in the future offered to help. We all thought it was a suicide mission, but we think he ended up getting sucked in by the tiny piece of the monolith that was near him. He came back to our time and timeline too.”

“You never mentioned bringing someone back from the future with you! That’s a huge change to history.”

“We know!” Fitz exclaimed.

“We didn’t mean to.” Said Jemma. “But he came back with us and tried to help us.”

“Tried?” Alya questioned.

“He got shot and had to have emergency surgery.”

Fitz gasped and snapped his attention towards Jemma. “He got shot?! You never told me- oh no…”

Alya looked between them, her face darkening with concern. “Who was he, Mum?”

Jemma continued to purposefully ignore her. “Even after he got shot, none of us really had time for him. We treated him so horribly. I always thought that I did better than the others, but just now I realised that it felt more like an act back then. Like I was obliged to be nice to him. B-But I shouldn’t have…”

She choked back a sob then, and Fitz quickly rushed to her side to comfort her.

Alya couldn’t find it in herself to find sympathy. She glared at them, the same question reflected in her expression.

“You know, he told me once about his family.” Fitz said whilst rubbing Jemma’s back. “He was a… a slave, I think. All humans were in that future. He told me that his mum had been murdered in front of him when he was just nine-” his voice cracked at his own words- “and his dad was sent to die.”

Alya opened her mouth to say something, but Fitz didn’t let her.

“B-But that’s how he learned to survive!” He said, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else. “He came back, started a whole company and was super rich and- and we left him…”

He covered his face with his hands and Jemma gently pried them off his face to kiss his cheek.

“He chose to stay behind.” Jemma reassured. “Without him, we wouldn’t be here, and this timeline might not even exist.”

“What was his name?” Alya whispered again, her skin a sickly pale hue.

Jemma and Fitz shared a look of devastation, because there was no going back or even going forward without revealing the inevitable. The silence in that moment was thick and heavy. It felt like no words would ever be able to cut through it.

Luckily, no words were needed. From outside, Deke’s sudden loud burst of giggles could be heard over Owen’s playful shout of exasperation.

Jemma’s head turned towards the window, though her vision was too blurred with both age and tears for her to focus it properly.

She smiled a wobbly smile.

“His name was Deke.”

Both Fitz and Jemma’s hearts broke at Alya’s cry of anguish. They watched her fall to her knees as she covered her mouth in an attempt to hide her shock. They both had strong instincts to comfort her, she needed it more than they did after all, but neither of them could find it within themselves to do so.

They felt like they didn’t deserve it.

“I-I thought you might have looked into the future or something.” She sobbed. “Not- not this! Not from that future!”

In-sync as always, Fitz and Jemma’s parental instincts broke them out of their guilty stupors and they hurried to their daughter to help her back to her feet.

“He was a hero.” Jemma said as she brushed the dirt off her daughter. “And trust me, once we’d brought him back he was genuinely the sweetest man I’ve ever known.”

Fitz let out a small scoff… that turned into a broken laugh… that melted into a sob.

“You said you left him.” Alya said, wiping away her tears with her sleeve almost childishly. “Where? Why didn’t you go back for him?”

“Our final mission.” Fitz supplied, knowing that his wife’s memories of those final moments of that mission were hazy. “In order to get us back to our timeline from the screwed up one and take all those chronicoms back with us, someone needed to activate the quantum device from the other end.”

Alya gasped with sudden understanding.

“Deke volunteered.”

“That drawer.” Stated Alya. “That’s-”

“All we could find left of him on the Zephyr once it was all over.” Jemma answered. “That tape we used the walkman with is all him. He stole the songs, but that was his voice.”

“I… I don’t believe…”

Her parents didn’t need to be prompted into wrapping her into their arms. They did so, and Alya let them hold her as she shook and cried and mourned.

“Why are you sad?”

The trio turned their heads towards the owner of the little voice, who was standing in the doorway where Alya had caught them. He was fidgeting with his t-shirt again, his brown spiky hair was all tousled and full of mud, and his face was full of such genuine concern that made it look strange upon such a small child’s face.

“Oh, my little monkey.” Alya called, sniffling. “Come here.”

She immediately knelt down and opened her arms out for a confused Deke to run into. Her hands closed around him like a trap that wasn’t going to let go of its prey any time soon. And everyone was fine with that.

“I’m so, so proud of you.” Alya’s voice was muffled by the fact that her face was buried into Deke’s bony chest.

“We love you very much, sweetie.” Jemma said, planting a kiss on Deke’s free hand. “More than you can ever know.”

Fitz ruffled his already messy hair. “Seriously, you’re the best, Baby Deke.”

“I’m not a baby!” Deke stuck his tongue out at his grandad, satisfied that his family wasn’t sad anymore. “Stop saying baby!”

“You’re right.” Jemma said warmly.

Fitz smiled, linking hands with his wife. “You’re our big Deke now.”

The pair noticed that Alya squeezed their grandson tighter. They shared a knowing look.

Deke grinned widely, the gaps in his teeth becoming more clear. There was an air of innocence around him that neither Jemma nor Fitz had ever gotten the chance to see before.

“Thanks Bobo, thanks Nana. You’re the best too.”

~-.-~

Leo and Jemma Fitz-Simmons had thought that they’d gotten their happy ending the very second Alya was born. It had been the happiest day of their lives, despite the team being missing, because they were finally a family.

But since they’d completed the mission that they’d been preparing for years, it had felt like something was still missing. They’d lost Enoch. They’d lost Deke.

They didn’t really have time for mourning back then. They had to set up proper lives for themselves. Raise a daughter and actually live normal lives. Still, that void left by those losses felt like it could never be filled.

At least, that was the case until Fitz stumbled upon Owen Shaw.

Meeting Owen brought them hope. He brought the chance of healing the open wound, of mending something that was permanently broken. Or, in their case, permanently stuck in a disastrous reality that he never should have been in.

It had taken many, many years, but Deke Shaw was finally born and with him that void had started to close. Slowly but surely.

The couple had known since his birth that they would have to tell Alya the truth at some point, but time passed quickly and they didn’t know how to proceed. They grew older and older, but so did Deke.

Alya was angry at first, as any mother would be. But after a lot of explaining, she understood. They gave her the power of telling Owen if she wanted to, and she decided against it. For as much as the memory of Deke influenced her son, she wanted him to be his own person.

Or at least, that’s what she told her parents. But they knew her well enough to know that she was just trying to distance him from the orphaned slave as much as she could for the benefit of her own mental health.

Yet, perhaps for some unrelated reason, the rift that had formed between Owen and Deke began to close. Owen grew closer to his son and by some miracle began to treat him in such a kind way that would never be associated with the boisterous Owen Shaw.

Alya herself had grown almost inseparable with her son. She comfortably changed her job to a part-time position in order to be able to spend more time with him. This extra time allowed her to take him to a dietitian to help improve his physical health. Though his ribs were still visible, he was no longer underweight, and that in itself was a huge achievement to Alya.

She’d also grown a lot closer to her parents. Though for a while they’d been distant due to work demands, they ended up visiting a lot more often and having little adventures in the garden. She knew that they needed support, and she wouldn’t hesitate to give it to them. They were her everything. As was Deke.

Deke, as all children do, grew up too fast. One day he was a mischievous five-year-old, the next he was a mischievous nine-year-old. He was considered a genius in his school and did end up moving up a class. Since he still struggled with making friends though, he fell to his grandparents. He never failed to make them laugh, and would boast to his classmates about how cool his Nana and Bobo were. That they used to be spies!

And FitzSimmons? Well, time passed for them too. Also too quickly. They renovated the Deke Drawer into the Deke Shelf. A shelf in a display cabinet filled with little trinkets in the living room, there for all to see.

They knew that, however much time they had left, they didn’t want to spend it keeping secrets or worrying over loose ends. They’d long since dismantled their lab and all prototypes and equipment within it. Their consciences were free. They were free.

Fitz grew his fabulous grey beard to a ridiculously long length. Jemma convinced him to trim it. This was the sort of adventure they liked now, the sort that involved only laughs and no danger or SHIELD or loss.

And they were happy. They’d had to wait half a century for it, but the universe had gifted them with uninterrupted happiness.

This was their true happy ending.

There will be 2 epilogue chapters following this. Thank you for reading!

[all1e23]

Astrophile [Pt.10]

Chapter:  Moonbeams & Starlight

Summary:  It’s Orion’s 5th birthday!

Warnings:  FLUFF

A/N: It’s  May29th! That means it’s Ori’s birthday! So what’s a better way to celebrate than reading about her birthday party!! Send me love because I’m needy, okay?!  Plus all your comments make my day. Beta’d by the beautiful and talented @wintersxsoul I love you 3000.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed! Thanks!**

It’s incredible how fast things get done when someone knows the important people and knows exactly what to say to light a fire under the right asses. Y/n’s apartment was cleaned up in record time, and thankfully, the leak hadn’t caused any damage to her furniture or any of the things her grandparents left her. There are still boxes of personal items to be put away, and everything in the bottom drawers of her wardrobe and kitchen cabinets had to be taken out to avoid any potential damage, but other than that everything was back to normal.

Thanks to Tony’s quick thinking and actions, nothing was severely damaged and she will be forever grateful. 

After their sunset confession, Bucky and Y/n made sure to keep in touch every single day and most days they ended their nights with a video chat – to talk about Ori’s party of course. It did not have anything to do with the fact that they hated being this far apart from each other.

Why anyone would think that is completely absurd if you ask Bucky.

By the day of the party, Y/n is practically vibrating out of her skin from her excitement. She’s naturally excited for Ori to see all the work that was put into the shop– it was a lot of effort on everyone’s part. They moved all the shelves to the outer walls of the shop and filled the middle with every space themed treat she could come up with, Tony had her favorite restaurant cater, floating stars (both lit and glittered), a fake shuttle, and every chair had its own pair of rocket boosters. Tony’s balcony is going to be permanently stained from all the silver and red spray paint used to make those jetpacks.  As excited as she was to see Ori’s reaction, she is just as excited to give that sweet girl a hug and laying eyes on her dad wouldn’t be the worst thing.

She just hopes It’s everything Ori’s has pictured.

“Oh. My. Stars!” Ori squeals and runs full force towards Y/n who turns around just in time to catch the little girl and hugs her as tight as she can without hurting her, “This is already the best party ever! Thank you, Y/n! Thank you!”

Okay, maybe this is a big, big win.

“You’re welcome, sweet girl,” Y/n whispers and kisses her head. “Wanna check it all out?”

Steve smirks and looks over at Bucky as they all slowly make their way into the small bookstore, "Where did she get ‘oh my stars’ from?”

“Y/n says that. I guess she’s picking up a few things,” Bucky says, smiling at Y/n and Ori, eyes sparkling as he watches the two of them moving about the store.

Steve whistles lowely and shakes his head, “Better be careful. You’ve got stars in your eyes, Buck.”

Y/n hoists Ori up on her hip so she can try to touch all the stars hanging from the ceiling.  Ori stretches her arm up high enough to catch two of the gold glittering stars and giggles when Y/n attaches it to her pigtails. Bucky doesn’t think he minds having stars in his eyes as long as they lead him to her.

-------

To say the party was a huge success would be putting it mildly.

Not that Bucky had any doubts with Y/n planning it. There is no way she would let Ori be disappointed on a typical day, so there is zero chance this was going to be some sloppily thrown together mess.It’s her birthday and he could hear Y/n’s voice in his head, she’s special on every day, but she should get to be extra special. Even knowing all that, Bucky is blown away by the thought she put into every single detail – even the food.

There are star and mood shaped Rice Crispy Treats, moon cake pops, and star-shaped pizza – that Bucky is sure Tony paid an arm and a leg for. The cake is two-tier covered in tiny stars, fondant planets, a space shuttle with ‘Orion’ iced on the front to look like a constellation. Bucky wanted to get her alone to talk from the moment he arrived, it’s been over a week since he’s laid eyes on her in the flesh, but Ori has held her attention from git-go.

That is until now.

Steve and Sam have Ori playing inside the bright silver shuttle Y/n spent all week crafting from cardboard, paint, tulle, and glitter. Bucky scans the small group of people and spots Y/n leaning against the back wall of books, a huge smile on her face as she watches Ori playing. He tucks his hands in his pockets and makes his way over to her, his nerves starting to pick up the closer he gets. Y/n’s gaze was steadfast on Ori, but she looks up the moment he stops in front of her, and everything about her glows– all because of him.

Three or four sentences start and die on his tongue before he finally gives her a lopsided smile and offers a soft but heartfelt compliment, “Not a bad party, Beck.”

“Thanks,” she beams in response. “I had a pretty important little girl to impress.”

“Trust me. You’ve been her favorite for months now, but I think this secured it for the rest of your life,” Bucky says, earnestly but there is something in her eyes he can’t place – something that resembles worry, genuine happiness quickly overtakes the concern and he can’t help but grin.

"So Stark did all this?” He asks, leaning against the wall next to her, but his eyes stay on Ori. He doesn’t think he can look at Y/n right now, not when she’s going to talk about how great Tony is.

“You can call him Tony, you know,” she retorts, smiling.

“So Stark did all this?” Bucky repeats, grinning widely.

Y/n rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest, still smiling. 

“Yes. Tony did all the organizing and helped with my apartment. I picked everything out, and he helped me get everything set up so the two of you could be surprised. He’s not that bad.”  

“Never said he was.”

“Why don’t you like him?” Y/n asks, honestly curious and maybe a little worried she overstepped. “It is because we went on a few dates? Are you upset that he’s dating me?”

“I never said that I didn’t like the two of you together.  I don’t– He’s not right for you. He’s not the one,” Bucky says with such conviction, such certainty it’s as if he’s privy to some secret she doesn’t know. It’s as if he has an in with Fate or God or whoever binds soulmates names in the stars.

“Then who is, huh?” Y/n asks, slight teasing in her voice surprising even her. “Care to share with the class?”     

Bucky locks eyes with her, his mouth dry, and his heart hammering against his chest – it’s pounding so hard he can feel it in his ears. He swallows the lump in his throat and shakes his head, breaking their eye contact.

“Not him, Y/n,” He says, barely above a whisper. “Not him.”

Tony watches as Bucky walks away leaving Y/n confused and slightly flustered. He spent the majority of the party just watching. As far as kids go, Ori is pretty great, and it is fun to watch her roast her dad and uncles, but what is most interesting out of everything, Bucky and Y/n. Every time Y/n is distracted by setting out food or decorations, organizing games, or playing with Ori, Bucky follows her like he’s unable to look away. Anytime Bucky says anything to Y/n, she shines brighter than the pre-light stars hanging from the ceiling.

It doesn’t take a genius to see what’s happening, but he’s known something was up since their first date. The way she says his name was a dead give away and it’s easy to spot once you know the signs. Tony knows every sign from personal experience. He never did manage to work up the nerve to say something and probably never will.

If any good is going to come out of his colossal screw-up, this was it. Tony can help keep Y/n from repeating his mistakes.

“Hey,” Y/n leans against the wall next to him and slips her hand into his. “What are you doing hiding over here? Without you, I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this, you should be enjoying all your  hard work.”

“No big deal,’ Tony shrugs, carefree and easy.  “Just made a few calls.”

History doesn’t have to repeat itself, Tony reminds himself

“So tell me something,” He nods towards Bucky and turns to face her. “When are you going to admit you have feelings for Bucko boy over there?” 

Y/n chokes, gasping on whatever she is drinking from her cosmic colored paper cup, making Tony grin as he pats her back in the most unhelpful way possible.

“I’m not – I don’t – I’m here with you. I don’t– we are just friends,” Y/n sputters.

“Right. That’s why you both keep stealing glances at each other when you’re not looking? And when he says anything at all to you, your face lights up like you just discovered a new constellation?  And it doesn’t matter what you say, every time you speak Bucko gets that dumb dreamy look on his face like you’re the most the amazing thing he’s ever seen in his life.”

“He doesn’t look at me like that,” she admonishes, quietly, letting her eyes drop to the ground.

“He does, Y/n.”

Tony gives her hand a gentle tug coaxing her to look up when she does he tilts his head towards Bucky, and she catches the brunette staring. Even from across the room, she can see his cheeks pink, and he quickly looks down to hide his face, but she can spot that smile from a block away.

“It’s okay, you know? We can still be friends. I mean, the fooling around has been great so if you want to continue that–” Y/n’s head whips back around towards him and playfully punches him in the stomach. Tony groans, fighting off his laughter, “Don’t be an idiot is all I’m saying. You’re going to end up like me and miss out on what’s right in front of you.”

“Pepper?” She asks, her eyes soften, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah, Pepper,” he forces a smile, the one he uses for press and interviews she come to learn, and kisses her forehead. 

“Alright, this is getting gross. I’m feeling sick to my stomach with all this lovey-dovey talk. I want you to know I meant what I said, but…” Tony flashes a genuine grin and wiggles his brows. “if you wanna go back to my place and work out your feelings? All night. I’m here for whatever you need. I can be that friend for you.”

She rolls her eyes and presses a light kiss to his cheek. A loud rueful laugh and a tiny giggle fill the air, and she turns to find the owners, warmth spreading through her chest when she spots Bucky tickling Ori – she knows where she wants to be tonight.

“I think I’m gonna help Bucky get Ori home.”

“Yeah,” Tony smirks. “I thought you would. Just don’t wait to tell him, okay?”

“You tell Pepper first,” Y/n counters, grinning smugly.

“Good God,” Tony groans. “Remind me again why I dated you?”

“Because I’m out of this world!”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

Bucky didn’t have another chance to talk Y/n after their awkward moment, he hasn’t been the best at talking to her lately. It didn’t matter anyway, right after their chat they went straight into cake and gifts, and now Ori is fast asleep in his arms. He doubts he’s going to have a moment alone with Y/n before she heads home with Tony. Steve is just finishing loading the last of the presents in his car when Bucky spots Y/n walking over with a bag and he assumes it’s to spend the night with Tony, but he frowns as she walks up to him instead and wonders aloud, “What are you doing? I thought you were going home with Tony.”  

She smiles and shakes her head, wiping a bit of icing off Ori’s cheek once she is within reach. Ori wrinkles her nose and nuzzles her face into Bucky’s shoulder,  “I’m going home with you. If that’s okay. My apartment is still a bit of a mess.”

Not a total lie, not the whole truth either.

“Of course, it’s okay,” Bucky assures her. 

“Everything alright? I saw your talk before… I’ll kick his ass if I have to. I’ve been waiting for an excuse to kick his ass actually. For years.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll be fine.” She replies with amusement and fond exasperation.  “No ass kicking needed. Sometimes your heart does its own thing, and you don’t know where it’s leading you until it’s standing right in front of you.”

“If this is about what I said earlier–”

Y/n presses her fingers to his lips and shakes her head. 

“It’s not. Well, it is, but it’s not because you said it. You were right, though.”

“I was?” Bucky mumbles around her fingers, making her giggle and causing her to drop her fingers from his lips – much to his displeasure.

“Yeah, you were, Buck.”

-------

Y/n tucks Ori’s blanket around her and secures her canopy behind her headboard while the little girl gets comfortable. She flicks her Frozen night light on and sets her stuffed animals around her in bed, intent on heading back downstairs, but a sweet, soft voice stops her, “Y/n?”

“Yeah, starlight?” Y/n answers, already walking back to her bed.

“Can you stay with me for a minute?”

Y/n smiles as Ori raises the end of her pink blanket enough for Y/n to climb into bed next to Ori. She immediately wraps herself around Y/n, and Y/n returns the gesture pulling her as close as she can.

“Story?”

“A story?” Y/n repeats. “I don’t think I know any off the top of my head.”

“Make one up?” She mumbles, still half dazed from falling asleep on her dad’s shoulder – sugar crash might have had a hand in that as well. “You work with books. You have to know all the stories.”

“I guess you are right about that,” Y/n chuckles and closes her eyes, running her fingers through the little girl’s curls as she frantically tries to come up with a story. Then it hits her like a meteor.

 “Okay. Here we go. It’s a story about–”

“Love?”

“Well, yes – I guess it is.”

Ori smiles and snuggles closer to Y/n, “I like this kind of story.”

“Me too,” Y/n smiles and kisses the top of her head. 

“Okay. One day, a young princess brought her daddy, the king, into one of the village shops. A young, peasant girl worked there. The moment the shopkeeper laid eyes on them, she knew her life would never be the same…”

It takes bucky thirty freaking minutes to get all of her gifts inside the house. Tony bought her a mountain of gifts, and he’s pretty sure none are acceptable for a five-year-old. Combine all of those with all the presents Steve and Nat got her, Ori is going to need a room just for her toys. That, or he’s going to need a second living room because she’s slowly taking over the only one they have.

He sets the last of the gifts down next to the couch and closes the front door. It was oddly quiet for two rowdy rascals. He wanders through the house, softly calling out for Y/n, but there’s no answer. She’s not in the kitchen or living room, and the bathroom downstairs is empty – no sign of the girls on the bottom floor at all. He slowly ascends the stairs and stops when he reaches the doorway of Ori’s bedroom.

“So, that’s where you got to,” Bucky mumbles softly, staring at Y/n fast asleep on the little girl’s bed and Ori snoozing on top of Y/n with her head on Y/n’s chest.

Bucky leans against the door and smiles at the sight before him. He knows he should wake Y/n up, Bucky’s fallen asleep in that bed more times than he can count, and it never ends up well, but he can’t bring himself to ruin this moment. Y/n snuggles Ori, and her head drops onto Ori’s, letting her cheek get lost in Ori's curls. Bucky smiles at the sight. There is a warmness in his heart despite the way his stomach is flipping, and his skin feels tingly. 

“Shit,” Bucky whispers, softly, careful of the girls sleeping only a few feet away from him. He forces himself to take a deep, stuttering breath, but no matter how much air he gulps into his lungs, it’s not enough. He fumbles as he pulls his phone out of the pocket and shuffles downstairs, calling the only person that can help.

“James?” Natasha murmurs softly. “What’s wrong? Is Ori okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. I need to ask you somethin’,” Bucky mutters quietly and peeks back up the stairs to make sure everyone is right where he left them – they are by some small miracle. 

“What, uh, what do you feel when you look at Clint?”

There is a long pause, and Bucky can hear shuffling, he assumes she is climbing out of bed and walking in another room where she can talk freely– he’s so grateful for that. Clint is a loud mouth, and he can’t keep a secret to save his life.

“Okay,” Nat says, clearly confused. “What?”

Bucky blows out a breath and collapses back onto the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. It shouldn’t be this hard to explain, and yet, here he is, floundering like a teenage boy with a crush.

“Okay, so, when Clint is… doing Clint things,” He groans, exasperated and slightly embarrassed at himself. “You know, eating two slices of pizza at once, sleeping on the couch with his mouth open, being a pain in my ass– You look at him when he does all that, what does it feel like? In your chest, I mean.“

“James. What the hell are you talking about?” Natasha begs, her voice full of annoyance.

Great, now he’s managed to annoy the only person that can help him. He closes his eyes and sighs. It’s now or never and the prospect of never making him sick to his stomach. Here goes nothing.  

“I’m talking about Y/n. I think, what I feel for her, it’s more than I thought and a hell of a lot more than just friends.”

Previous // Next

[cagestark]

-Defender//3-

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

Longest chapter by far...enjoy. ;) let me know what you think.

warnings: rape is mention in a strictly theoretical sense, but non-consensual groping is referenced.

read here on AO3.

-

‘Whatever kids do’ (I’m twenty fucking years old, Peter thinks to himself) turns out to be just sitting in his room, climbing the walls. Literally. Unfortunately, there aren’t any spiders making nests in the corners of the room, but at least he tried to find kin.

He takes the plastic bag out of his backpack, the one that hold his trackphone and charger. Now with an increased paycheck, he’ll be able to afford a real phone, one that he doesn’t have to risk turning on just once or twice a day to preserve the battery. There aren’t any messages, but Peter hadn’t really expected any different. He turns it off and tucks it back into the waterproof bag.

After a time, Peter begins to feel like maybe he’s hiding in his room. He’s hungry—and he lives here now, right, so why shouldn’t he just go out into the kitchen and make himself a sandwich? But every time he reaches for the doorknob, he chickens out. What if Mr. Stark is out there? Peter’s dressed in the only casual clothes he owns, a pair of warm sweatpants and a long-sleeve flannel shirt. Hardly appropriate attire to be seen in by a billionaire. By Tony Stark.

But the hunger wins out sometime around eight in the evening. So he carefully nudges the door to his room open and slips out.

He swallows a gasp, heart hammering when he spots Tony sitting on the leather couch with his socked feet up on the coffee table. Schematics are scattered everywhere, and his StarkPad is displaying something in 3D—fuck that’s so cool. The television is on, muted, the History channel playing a documentary on Ancient Egypt. A glass of mostly empty whiskey sits perched in one of the man’s tanned hands.

Quiet as he tried to be, some noise must slip out because Tony’s head turns. He looks wide awake for the late hour. “Hey, kid,” Tony says, eyebrows lifting. “You’re so quiet in there, I honestly forgot you were here.”

“I get that a lot,” Peter mumbles. He points to the kitchen, one hand absently trying to pat at his curls and decide if he looks like a hot-mess or just a mess-mess. “Can I get something to eat?”

“Mi casa es su casa, now. Literally. Help yourself to whatever you like, and if you want to keep me from eating something, put your name on it or hide it behind the vegetables.”

Peter snorts. “Noted. I just didn’t know if I was like, supposed to pay for my own groceries first. I don’t have any money.” He’s been spending his SI checks on motel rooms so that he’s not sleeping outdoors, but the other man doesn’t need to know that.

“Nobody pays for their groceries,” Tony says absently, already looking back to the hologram projected by his StarkPad. He prods at something with the end of his pencil. “Just eat what you want and let me know if you want me to order you something special.”

“Nobody pays for their food?” Peter mutters, looking into the refrigerator. It’s stocked with everything he could possibly want, and several things he can’t even name: fruits of strange shapes and colors, cheeses that smell nothing like cheese, milk that doesn’t come from a cow. “You just buy all the Avengers food, all the time?”

“I am the Avengers’ wallet, kid,” says Tony. “I house them, I buy them whatever they need, I upgrade their suits and weapons, provide any special technologies my brain can cook-up. I provide most of the paycheck—but SHIELD does help. Truth be told, the risk of the job isn’t worth what it pays, so if that’s why you said yes, you might want to rethink things.”

“No offense,” says Peter, sitting at the stool by the marble countertop. He has three peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in front of him made with crunchy peanut butter and organic raspberry jelly and wheat bread that is thick and brown and fragrant. His mouth waters. “But you’ve spoken like a true billionaire. Money and security? That’s worth everything.”

Tony stops what he’s doing. He puts his StarkPad down to rest in his lap, and the look on his face—Peter can’t pin it down, but it makes his shoulders hunch. Did he say something wrong?

“No offense, but you’ve spoken like a Dickensian protagonist. It’s worth everything?” Tony repeats. “Worth dying for?”

Peter shrugs. “If I’m dead, who cares. It’s worth almost dying for, though. Or at least—it is to me.”

Tony’s expression makes him look ten years older than he is, Atlas with the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Peter, if you need financial security—I can take care of that. Look, I can fill in a lot of the blanks when it comes to your past and how you’ve had to rough it, but here at SI we take care of our own. You don’t need to be an Avenger to eat, to have a place to sleep, to get healthcare. Jesus, you’re only twenty years old; you have your whole life ahead of you. To be honest, kid, this business doesn’t really guarantee longevity. There isn’t a retirement plan.”

Peter stares. His eyes burn but he isn’t a crier. He cried at May’s ‘funeral’, when he couldn’t afford to bury her and they’d cremated her instead—and he’d promised himself that it was the last time he’d cry for as long as he lived. So he doesn’t cry now, but he kind of wants to. In his mind he sees Ben, sees the man who killed him, feels the helplessness and the guilt all over again.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark,” he says. He pauses to clear his throat so it doesn’t sound choked. Peanut butter is sticky; that’s all. “But you don’t know everything about my past. I’m not just doing this for the money.”

The silence lays thick between them, broken only when Tony nods and says, “That’s fair. Would you do me a favor and bring me a beer while you’re over there? Bottom shelf. Behind the quinoa.”

Peter has no fucking idea what quinoa is, but the refrigerator isn’t Mary Poppin’s purse or something, so he finds the beer towards the back eventually and grabs a bottle for the older man. There aren’t many left, and Peter sees that it’s because several empty bottles are sitting in a row by Tony’s feet. The stuff looks expensive, has a foreign label in a language that Peter can’t even identify, much less read. He crosses the room to deliver the bottle to the man’s waiting hand.

Tony goes to drink it and bumps the cap against his lip. Peter snorts.

“Cut me some slack,” Tony says around a smile. “I haven’t slept since your little nighttime creepy crawly act on my building. This takes a bottle opener anyway—no, no, I’ll get it, you just sit and eat, you’ve done enough for me—”

Peter takes the bottle and pops the cap with his bare hands. All the beer he’s ever seen were cheap screw-off tops, or he would have rummaged through the drawers for a bottle opener for the man earlier. It isn’t until he’s handing the bottle back and sees Tony’s wide-eyed expression that he realizes not everybody can pop a bottle cap with their thumb.  

“You weren’t kidding about how strong you are,” Tony says.

Peter just shakes his head, slow.

Tony points to the sandwiches on the counter. “I was just about to order in Chinese. What do you think? Better than PB&J?”

Mr. Stark clears the coffee table of his work and orders Chinese from a place he swears is the most authentic place in NYC. Then they spend fifteen minutes arguing about whether to start watching the Star Wars movies at the prequels or originals (because the documentary on TV is a snoozefest, which is why Tony was trying to watch it while he worked). Tony finally concedes to Peter’s persuasion, but Peter sees him smiling around the neck of his bottle as he takes a generous sip.

They put on the Phantom Menace.

“So tell me about yourself,” Tony says after the Chinese has arrived, sitting in various boxes scattered across the glass coffee table. He ordered an inordinate amount, and Peter plans to make sure that absolutely no grain of rice goes to waste, thanking the older man between bites. “I know more about your scopulae than I do you—and that’s not a weird metaphor.”

Suddenly Peter’s stomach isn’t used to being so full, and it rolls a little with nausea. He sets his plate down to let it settle.

“You made it sound like you already knew everything about me. What do you want to know?” he asks. He’s keenly aware of how painful his life has been. It sounds like a Shakespearean tragedy when he plays it out in his head: his parents’ untimely deaths, seeing his Uncle murdered (his fault, all Peter’s fault—), then his aunt passing away from illness. Losing the apartment. Living on the streets and in shelters and in any buildings he could scale or break into.

“Whatever you want to tell, kid,” says Tony. “It’s not an interview or an interrogation. FRI says you’re a native of Queens.”

“Yeah,” Peter says. “Yeah. I’m from Queens.”

“I’m sorry,” says Tony gravely.

Peter smiles. “Queens isn’t bad, really.”

“Any family?” Tony asks. He stares at the screen where Qui-gon Jinn and Obi-Wan are bickering and takes a swig from the long-necked bottle, casual as can be, like he knows the answer is heavy but they have to get it out of the way.

The smile slips from Peter’s face. He shakes his head. “I’m alone.”

“No, you aren’t,” Tony says with conviction. “You’re an Avenger now. We’re all assholes, but we watch out for each other. It really is a family of sorts. A dysfunctional family, with an aunt who’s great at murder, a centennial grandfather, and an uncle who drinks too much, but such is life, right?”

“Who are you in that scenario?” Peter laughs. Something settles in Peter’s stomach, warm, like hot chocolate after coming in from the cold. Tony is so fucking nice. How does this man have everything? Looks, brains, money, and kindness.

“Wasn’t it obvious?” Tony holds up the beer bottle. “I’m the uncle who overindulges.”

At that moment, a noise pierces the air. Peter jumps, heart hammering. “What’s that?” He asks.

“Just the bell, kid, no worries. FRI, who is it baby?”

“Captain Rogers, sir.”

Both of them go stiff in their seats. After a moment, Tony relaxes again, but Peter can’t let his guard down, not when that name makes his muscles clench in anticipation for a fight, when it makes his scalp prickle with anxiety and warning. “Let him in,” Tony says, standing. By the time Captain Rogers appears, Tony has a beer out for him.

Steve stops when he sees Peter sitting on the couch. The blond takes it all in: the movie on screen, the mostly-eaten food, the empty beer bottles on the table (which he eyes with disapproval). It must look like Peter and Tony are very familiar with each other, Peter in his pajamas, Tony in just his jeans and the wifebeater that was under his t-shirt while he worked down in the lab.

“Hey, Cap,” Tony says. He holds up the bottle. “Drink?”

“No thanks, Tony. Can I talk to you outside?” The look he gives Peter is apologetic enough. “Sorry kid, you aren’t an official Avenger yet until your induction, or I wouldn’t bother with all the secrecy.”

“It’s fine,” Peter says stiffly.

“I’ll be just a minute, Pete,” Tony says. They step outside.

-

Peter hears everything through the walls from his seat on the couch. The television plays but does nothing to disguise the raised voices from beyond the door. Peter wishes he could see their faces, but (no matter how cool it would have been) he didn’t develop x-ray vision from the spider bite. Maybe it’s for the best—maybe Peter couldn’t be held responsible for his actions otherwise.

“What’s going on between you two?” Steve asks.

“What are you talking about? We were eating Chinese and watching Star Wars.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little inappropriate?”

“I sure as hell did, but he insisted that we start with the Phantom Menace and not A New Hope—”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Are you grooming him?” Steve sounds horrified at the thought, and Peter can’t assess his face to tell if he’s sincere or not. “A homeless kid you found, and suddenly you’re giving him a room in your penthouse, a job, you’re spending the day with him in the lab? And now, what, you’re plying him with alcohol?”

“I am not grooming Peter,” Tony says. His voice sounds firm. Good! Peter thinks. “He’s in there drinking a goddamn Coke. To be honest, I’m shocked that you even know the term, I didn’t think grooming officially existed in the Stone Age—”

“I take all the classes SHIELD requires of me to lead the team and keep people safe, even from attacks that aren’t always with fists or alien tech. Grooming has always existed; as long as there is prey, there are predators looking—”

“Peter is not prey, he could fucking snap me in half—!”

“But not if you make him like you, is that it? Not if he thinks he owes you—”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

The silence after that lasts a moment too long, and Peter shuts his eyes. Because he can hear more in that silence than he did in Tony’s exclamation—Tony is beginning to doubt himself. He’s beginning to believe the worst in himself. They’ve only known each other for forty-eight hours, but Peter already feels like he knows Tony better than the people around him: the painful vulnerability, the intense self-criticism.

“Look, if it will make everyone feel better, I’ll move his room—”

“God damn it,” Peter hisses.

“—maybe Vision wouldn’t mind rooming up here with me. I’m practically his father, or—something.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Steve says magnanimously.

“I bet you do, asshole,” Peter mutters.

“Is this all you came up here for?” Tony asks. “To read me the riot act over treating the kid like I’d treat any of you—if any of you liked me enough to invite me to your get-togethers or to accept my offers to join me up here—”

“I had a reason. Here,” something is exchanged hands, the rustle of paper. “Fury’s background check on Queens in there. It’s very thorough and enlightening—”

“And not my business,” Tony says. “This is confidential even by SHIELD standards—do I have clearance to have this?”

“I thought there was something in there that might be important for you to know. The kid used to work for Hammer Industries.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Well, this is it. It was lovely, folks! Peter should just pack his bag now. Maybe the windows in his room open so he can slip out and scale the side of the building. For a moment he thinks about how it might feel to just let himself fall. Now that he’s tasted this bite of a better life, returning to his old ways will be even more painful. But Peter doesn’t even know if the fall would kill him—

“Hammer Industries?” Tony says at length. “He definitely upgraded.”

“I want to look out for you, Tony,” Steve says.

Peter doesn’t believe a word of that.

The worst part of all is that he has to sit there on the couch and pretend like he hasn’t heard the entire conversation. How can he explain—how he’s always had a passion for tech, how he never even dreamed of being able to work at Stark Industries, so he’d shot for the moon instead of the stars, settling at Hammer Industries. Only the place had been a shitheap with a perverted boss and Peter saved up enough to cut his losses, and then Stark Industries had accepted him! Even working on machines in the maintenance department…it was more than Peter had ever dreamed.

But Tony doesn’t know that. The look on his face when he comes back in the room is grave.

“Hey kid,” he says. “Sorry I missed some of the movie.”

“It’s okay,” Peter lies.

Tony sits back down on the couch, as far away from Peter as he possibly can. He doesn’t take a single sip more of alcohol, and while he is friendly enough when Peter asks him a question, he doesn’t let himself be roped into conversation anymore. He stares at the television screen like he’s seeing through it, and Peter feels it slipping away—his chances at being close with Tony crumbling like sand through his fingers.

What he decides to do is to say something. Anything.

What he does is scoot across the couch and climb into the man’s lap, straddling the strong thighs. Tony looks at him like two separate heads have sprouted from his ears. Instinct has him pushing at Peter sharply, and it’s only Peter’s enhanced sense of balance and grip that has him twisting to avoid being pushed flat onto the glass coffee table. He lands like a cat in the slim space between the sofa and the coffee table.

“Get off of me—”

“Please let me explain—”

“Explain what?” The man swallows, heavily, staring down at where Peter kneels between his thighs. The sound is loud to Peter’s ears; he can hear it all, the pounding heart too. “Jesus Christ, you don’t need to be in my lap to have a conversation with me, do you?”

“I did work for Hammer Industries,” Peter says. “But I worked maintenance for them, too. They were shit, they treated us like shit, Hammer was a creep who used to grab my ass in the hallways, and I quit before I even had another job, that’s how desperate I was to get away.”

“You heard all that?” Tony asks, eyes wide enough to show white all around the dark iris. “Fuck, kid, eavesdropping—?”

“I have enhanced senses,” Peter pleads. “I can hear everything if it’s close enough. I can hear the Avengers on the floor below us when they’ve got a movie turned up too loud, I just, I didn’t want to say anything because it’s so creepy, but I can’t help it, and, and—”

“Hey, calm down. Here, will you get up? You’re going to give me a heart attack. Come sit on the couch, we’ll talk.”

They resume their seats on opposite ends of the couch. Peter looks down at his shaking hands, clenches them tight until his knuckles go white, but it’s not just his hands: his whole body shakes. Peter has never been gifted with words, something that has only became worse after the passing of his aunt, when he had no one to talk to. If all of this—the chance to be around Tony, the penthouse, the Avengers—if it all relies on Peter talking his way into it…then he’s doomed.

Tony scrubs at his face with a weathered hand. He looks exhausted. “I’m really sorry that you heard all of that out there,” he says at length.

“None of it was true,” Peter blurts. His blood thrums when he remembers all of Steve’s words. “You aren’t grooming me. Not to mention, I’m a fucking adult.”

“A vulnerable one,” concedes Tony.

“So are you,” Peter says through his teeth. “Everybody is vulnerable to something. You want to pity homeless youth, go find one who is really suffering. I’m enhanced! I can climb walls even in the rain to get somewhere safe and dry. I don’t have to worry about anyone mugging me or, or raping me, because I could just pull their arms and legs off. I’m not vulnerable. I’m just—”

“Just what,” asks Tony, motioning with a hand when the younger man’s words cut off. “Go on, kid. I’m listening to you.”

“I’m just a guy who—who is finally getting everything that he wanted,” Peter says. All the anger is sapped from his veins now, and he feels old and heavy and tired, his eyes burning traitorously until he blinks them clear and dry. “I’ve wanted to work with science since I was old enough to go to school. But I don’t have an education, I don’t have a degree. I didn’t even finish high school. Places only hire me for grunt work, but I’m good with machines. I figured maybe I could, could work my way up. To something. Working at Stark Industries was just a pipe dream. I never thought I’d get a chance, but my Aunt May…she used to say that I’m too pessimistic, and I should open myself up to good things, because good things will happen.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away Mr. Stark.”

“Peter—it’s okay. I wasn’t worried about you working at Hammer Industries as it was. Hammer isn’t clever enough to infiltrate my building, and even if he were? My secrets are a lot harder to steal than anyone might think. If FRIDAY had seen you doing anything suspicious, she would have notified me in a heartbeat. That’s all shit; I know that.” Tony clears his throat. “But Cap was right about one thing. I don’t want you getting ideas in your head, that you have to treat me a certain way to stay on the team and in the Tower, or that I expect any treatment like that.”

Peter groans. “I don’t think that. I’m not twelve. Besides, the other Avengers treat you like shit, and you keep them around—”

“Hey,” says Tony, raising his voice a little. “They don’t treat me like shit, so knock it off. Having you up here in the penthouse does give the wrong impression. I don’t want you or anyone else to think I’m trying to take advantage of you.”

“What—what if I want you to?” Peter asks. He dares a look at the older man; God, he’s so handsome, even looking stunned as he is. His mouth is open like he wants to say something but isn’t sure what to say, and Peter takes the chance to continue. “I know I’m young, and I’m not the best looking guy around, not even the best looking one in the Tower, but I’ve had a crush on you since like, 2008. You’re everything I’ve dreamed of, Mr. Stark, and somehow I’m here in your penthouse and we ate Chinese together and I don’t want to let it go.”

“Peter—” Tony looks stricken, face pale.

“It doesn’t have to be anything serious,” Peter amends quickly. “I know you’re busy, and I’m going to be too, I guess. No pressure. You could just let me know when—when you wanted me and I’d be there for you.”

“Kid,” says Tony. “Stop. That’s not the way I work, and that’s not the way I want you to work. You shouldn’t let anybody treat you like that—”

“I wouldn’t let anybody treat me like that,” Peter promises. “Just you, Mr. Stark.”

That does something to the man. Tony groans, reaching up to palm at his eyes. “You don’t make it easy on me, appealing to all my seedy kinks, kid. If I’d met you ten years ago—yikes, not ten-year-old you, twenty-year-old you but, yeah, alright, you catch my drift. If I was the same man now that I was ten years ago, I wouldn’t hesitate Peter. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“Besides the spider bite, I’m really not that special,” Peter says. “But I’m okay with that. Most people aren’t special.”

“That’s not true,” says Tony. “I’ve got three emails in my inbox from my head of Maintenance begging to have you back, saying that you’re a wunderkind with the machines and that the HVAC hasn’t been in such good shape since it was first installed. You’ve made quite an impression down there—and on me, too.”

“Really?” Peter asks. He can’t help but sit up straighter, buoyant butterflies in his stomach uplifting him.

“Really,” Tony confirms. “I like the way you listen, kid. The hero worship thing, too. You’ve got to know that that plays right into my ego. Fuck, Steve’s right. I’m really not a very good man.”

“I don’t care what Steve Rogers thinks,” Peter breathes. He shifts up onto his knees, edging towards the man at the other end of the couch. By the time he stops, his feet are tucked underneath him, knees touching Tony’s thighs. Peter reaches out to put a hand on his bicep, and the older man flexes instinctively. “I can hear that, you know. The way your heartbeat just picked up.”

Tony swallows. “Not something I usually have to hide.”

“You don’t have to hide anything from me,” Peter says. “Mr. Stark?”

“What, kid?”

“Would you kiss me?”

“That wouldn’t be fair to you. Because after this conversation ends, I’m going to ask you to switch rooms with Vision.”

Peter can sense the weakness in Tony’s will, and he uses it to shift himself onto the older man’s lap, back where he was when this conversation began. Only this time Tony doesn’t push him away, just leans his head back against the couch cushions and closes his eyes. Peter stares, awed. Something about him is attractive to Mr. Stark, something that has the man barely hanging on to his control. The power is a heady thing, makes his body sway forward the way it does when he’s standing on a tall building too close to the edge. This power over the man is just as great a responsibility as his spider senses, and he would never, never misuse it.

“I don’t ever want this conversation to end, then,” Peter admits, letting his fingers drift up from where they’re resting on the man’s bicep, up along the t-shirt he’s wearing and to his neck where his pulse is hammering away. Peter presses, so gently on that carotid artery, and Mr. Stark’s mouth opens, a silent sound that deafens Peter. The younger man’s cock is rapidly hardening, but he keeps his hips pulled back lest he be too tempted to grind on Tony’s abs.

“Everything ends, kid.” The rumble of Tony’s voice reverberates through Peter and makes him shiver.

Peter carefully lets his weight down—and yes, he feels a distinct bulge in the other man’s pants, hears the way that heart stutters, resumes its beating in double-time. Tony sucks in a breath through his nose and holds it until his lungs must be aching. “I’m going to kiss you now,” Peter warns.

Tony tilts his head back up until there is nowhere to look but at each other. Slowly to give the man time to pull away, Peter ducks his head in until their panting breaths are mingling between their open mouths, and Peter decides that if Tony didn’t want Peter to, he wouldn’t have his eyes closed this way, wouldn’t have let his hands grip at Peter’s thighs to pull him further down on the man’s cock.

“One kiss,” Tony says, their lips brushing. “And then you have to go downstairs, Peter. So make it count.”

“I will,” Peter promises.

And he does. Their mouths are open when they meet, and Tony’s mouth feels better than Peter might have ever imagined it to be: soft and firm and eager, coming to life like a live wire beneath Peter’s less experienced lips. But what Peter lacks in experience he makes up for in exuberance, letting both hands come up to tangle in the older man’s dark hair, letting his hips rest heavy on that hard cock beneath him just to feel the way Tony’s groan makes them both vibrate. Peter reaches out blindly and uses one hand to brace himself on the back of the couch so that he can grind down on the cock beneath him.

“Jesus, kid,” Tony breaks apart to breathe.

“I won’t let you cheat me; I’m not done with my kiss,” Peter says, pulling him back, their mouths raw and red. He sucks on the clever tongue and then pulls away to feel the burn of Tony’s facial hair against his oversensitive mouth, keeping the contact (still counts as one kiss, right? If Peter never completely pulls his lips away?) until it leads him down to that pounding pulse that he can lick and suck at. When he plants his teeth there, Tony hisses, hips thrusting up reflexively to drive his hard cock into the hot cradle of Peter’s hips.

“God, I’ve wanted this forever,” Peter says, scraping his teeth against the warm skin of Tony’s neck. “How am I supposed to stop, Mr. Stark? I—I don’t think I can.”

“Peter—one of us has to—has to—fuck, your mouth—!”

“If one of us has to fuck my mouth, I hope it’s you—”

“Christ, don’t say shit like that,” Tony gasps. “Who knew you had such a filthy fucking mouth.”

“Wait until you see what my filthy mouth can do,” Peter says, desperate fingers tugging down the collar of Tony’s t-shirt to suck a bruise onto his collarbone, and it makes the man’s hips stutter beneath him. Peter finally pulls away (this has been far more than one kiss, but he doesn’t think Tony minds much anymore) and stares at Tony’s face. His eyes are closed, lashes long and dark where they brush his cheeks. He has the loveliest mouth, full and expressive and a little swollen from the way Peter nipped at his lips.

Their mouths are drawn back together, two magnets always seeking each other out. This kiss is better, a little more experienced. It’s give and take, both of them swaying into each other like sails caught in the breeze, the lap of warm tongues like waves against a ship’s hull, their ever present arousal being driven higher and higher. Peter reaches down to slip one hand beneath Tony’s jean-clad ass and pull the man up, harder, the friction on their cocks so painfully good that he can’t help but whine in the back of his throat.

“I can’t believe a tiny thing like you is so fucking strong,” Tony says through his teeth, slipping both his hands down into the back pockets of Peter’s jeans. When he squeezes Peter’s ass, he can’t help but jump, cock spitting precum in his boxers.

“Does—does it turn you on?” Peter asks, already suspecting the answer, the dark flash of Tony’s eyes when Peter popped the bottle cap with his bare hand replaying in his mind. “Knowing how much stronger than you I am? If I, If I wanted to, I could snap you in half just like you said to Steve. But I’d never do that. Maybe I’d just hold you down so that I could climb on top of you and ride your cock just the way I wanted to—”

“Fuck—kid, you keep talking like that and I’m going to blow in my pants.”

Peter’s breath catches. He slows his frantic grinding, turning them into long, deep strokes. “That’s what I want,” he whispers. “I want to see you cum, please, Mr. Stark? You make it sound like this might be my only chance. That would be a crime though, because there’s so much I want to do to you, suck your ridiculous brain out through your cock and swallow your cum and rim you and pin you flat to whatever surface we’re closest to—whatever works—and ride your cock, or, or give you mine—”

Tony’s back arches, cutting off a strangled shout. He stays that way, head back, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in ecstasy for an endless moment, and then his hips drop back down to the couch as he groans, burying his face in Peter’s neck, content to let Peter hump him through his orgasm until he is shaking, oversensitive, heart pounding far too fast for a man of his age and cardiac history. It’s all the most sexual, incredible experience of Peter’s short life, and he knows that it’s not the end. It can’t be.

Even though his cock aches, balls protesting the lack of orgasm, Peter gently shifts himself off the man’s lap, wiping the dark hair from Tony’s forehead, slick with just the beginning of sweat. He places a last tender kiss on the man’s cheek, just above his trimmed facial hair.

“I’ll get my bag,” Peter whispers. “Just give me five minutes.”

Then he stands and disappears into his room, leaving behind the billionaire.

-

Peter stands in what was once Vision’s room feeling bereft. Apparently the man(? cyborg? Peter isn’t sure of what to call him) didn’t care much for decoration, because the room looks as the room upstairs did with all the impersonal warmth of a fancy hotel room. The bed is large and comfortable, sheets clean. The bathroom is black marble, shining and sleek. He should be comfortable here. There’s nothing very different—

—except for the company.

Steve Rogers knocks and then looms in the doorway, leaning against the frame. His face is pleasant enough, a little pitying maybe, but Peter is willing to admit that his own feelings on the man might be clouding his perception. “Hey, Peter. I wanted to see how you were settling in.”

“Oh, hi, Captain,” Peter says. It’s easy to slip on a naïve persona, all guileless wide eyes and timid cracking voice. He just plays up all the characteristics he naturally has, though they all seem to melt away when this man is near. “Would you—would you come in, actually? I have some questions.”

“Sure—”

And when the door closes behind him, Peter is there, a hand flat against it so that try as he might, Steve can’t open it. Any pleasantry saps itself from both of their faces until they regard each other with trepidation (from Steve) and undisguised dislike (from Peter).

“I heard everything you said upstairs when you were talking to Tony,” Peter says through his teeth. He barely recognizes his voice, the darkness in it, the disgust. It feels like possession, like his own anger is a demon inhabiting his body and he’s just along for the ride, staring through the holes of his eyes like they are far away windows. “Do not ever, ever mistake me for prey. I might be in the web along with the flies, but that’s because I am the spider. Tell me: what do you know about spiders?”

“Not much,” Steve admits. He doesn’t look scared, though the tense stance says more than his expressionless face; maybe he isn’t afraid, but he isn’t underestimating Peter either and that’s good. Peter can appreciate that.

“I read all the books in the New York City Public Library about them during the summer I turned fifteen. Did you know that jumping spiders can jump almost 40 times their own length? They can hold up to 150 times their own body weight, too. For their size, they are one of the strongest, fastest animals in the world. Maybe those statistics don’t carry over to me; maybe the mass makes things different, maybe since I don’t have an exoskeleton, maybe since I only have four legs and not eight—but maybe they do reflect my abilities. And maybe I am that strong. And I don’t want you to forget it.”

“Are you threatening me Peter?” Steve asks solemnly.

“No,” Peter says. “I’m defending myself, and I’m defending Tony. Remember that.”

Steve looks at him, serious. “I will. Is that all, kid?”

If he thought that he’d find any satisfaction in threatening Steve Rogers, he was wrong. All he feels after the door closes is empty, angry, a pot with the lid on tight even though the pressure builds and builds, desperate to boil over. There’s no relief to be found; his fury is so impotent. Nothing he can do would change Tony’s mind (and he doesn’t want to change Tony’s mind, he wants Tony’s mind to change on its own).

For the first time, he feels scared of himself.

But all he can do is persist, exist, like a weed coming up through the crack of the Avengers’ concrete.

Peter undresses and lays in the comfortable bed, staring up at the darkness of the ceiling. For a while he tosses and turns (can a bed be too comfortable? Too soft and yielding to his every curve? Talk about first-world problems), but then he sits up in the dark.

On the floor above him, Mr. Stark has started playing music. Loud. Loud enough for Peter to hear.

He takes one of the fluffy pillows and tucks it between his arms where (ideally) another body would rest. Closing his eyes, he falls asleep to the sounds of Led Zeppelin’s greatest hits. He dreams of rain on the windows.

[nickelkeep]

What I Thought I Knew

Pairings: Dean/Cas, minor Jody/Donna Rating: Mature - Language and a small mention of drug use. Word Count: 7500 Warnings: There is a kiss that is of dubious consent, as it comes out of the blue. On Ao3

Dean's elbows deep in the Roadrunner Bobby has him working on when his phone goes off. The ringtone tells him immediately that it's his other boss from his other job, Jody. She knows he works two jobs, and that the garage is the better paying one, but for her to be calling, something big must be going on. Dean makes sure that nothing is going to fall, come loose, or hit him on the head before he wipes his hands on his jeans and reaches into his pocket.

He answers the call, forcing his tone to sound chipper. "Jodio, what's happening?"

"Look, I know you're supposed to be at the shop until 7, but I just lost Benny. Andrea's gone into labor. This is a high-class job; I need one of my high-class guys to fill in."

"Hate to break it to you, Jody, you're not calling the right person for high class." Dean tucks the phone between his ear and shoulder and leans back under the hood. "I'm sure you can get one of the ladies to do it."

"Dean, she requested good looking men," Jody admits, a tone of shame in her voice. "You know I hate pandering to that kind of shit, but–"

"But business has been slow. I get it." He lets out a heavy sigh as he already knows that he's going to regret the next words out of his mouth. "When's it start?"

"Her party starts in fifteen minutes. Foodservice starts in forty-five. I know I'm asking a lot, I'll give you time and a half to make up what you'll lose. I'll call Bobby. Please, Dean."

"Let me get this car safe, so nothing falls out overnight, and I'll head out. Call Bobby; that way, he doesn't yell at me?"

Jody breathes out a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much, Dean. I'll call Bobby now." The call disconnects, and Dean's left wondering what the hell just happened before he pockets his phone and tightens up a couple more nuts.

Dean closes the hood and walks into Bobby's office, where his uncle is on the phone. "You and Donna owe me, Jody. Dean's my best mechanic." Bobby looks up and holds up a finger. "He just walked in. I'm kicking him out to go clean up. He's a greased up hog right now."

"Rude."

"Of course, Jody. I always take bribes in booze and pie." Bobby chuckles. "No, I'm not where Dean gets that from, and even if I were, that makes us cheap dates. Talk to you later." Bobby hangs up his phone and looks at Dean. "You sure you want to go?"

Dean rolls his eyes and throws his rag in the designated hamper. "I'm sure Jody told you the exact opposite."

"'Course she did, ya Idjit. But you're a sucker for her just like I am, just like Donna is." Bobby grabs up a folder and taps it before sliding it into a desk drawer. "Whatcha waitin' for? Get out of here and go be the playboy she needs you to be."

"Got it, Bobby." Dean salutes before turning and walking back out of the office. He stops by his locker to grab his jacket, stopping to wave goodbye to Ash and Garth, and heads out to the Impala.

A quick stop at home to get clean and dress up in his godforsaken monkey suit, and Dean's on his way to the party that Jody's catering. He pulls up to the venue and drives around back to where staff and temporary staff park and hops out of his car, quickly taking the familiar route to the kitchen.

"Not bad, Dean-O." Donna winks at him as he comes around the corner. "Thank you for showing up on such short notice."

"Yeah, yeah. You two know how it works. Booze and Pie." Dean looks around. "Where's Jody?"

As if on cue, Jody strides back into the kitchen, her shoulders tight. She sees Dean and relaxes, if only slightly, before coming in to hug him. "I am so sorry to ask you to do this, Dean." She backs up and straightens his tie. "You know Benny and Andrea weren't expecting the baby for another week or so."

"Yeah, you guys getting updates from them?"

Donna nods. "On the half-hour. You would think he's a first-time parent or something." She laughs at her joke, causing Dean and Jody to laugh with her.

"Dean, I need to warn you. The host is not happy right now." Jody gently pats down the lapels on his waistcoat and looks him in the eye. "Andy's out there doing his best, as are Victor and Aaron, but I need you to up your charm to eleven."

"I can do a pretty sweet Spinal Tap impression." Dean winks at her.

"Screw you, Winchester. You know what I mean."

Dean smiles fondly at her, trying to calm her nerves. "I do. What do I need to know about our host?"

"Bela Talbot. Heiress to the Talbot Estate. They're a huge shipping conglomerate." Jody leans in. "Rumor that the boys have heard is that she's supposed to be looking for a husband tonight. Otherwise, she doesn't get her share of the fortune."

"Doesn't explain why she wants good looking men tonight."

"She wants to show off her wealth, sweetie." Donna pipes up. "I have more charm in my pinky. So she figures money will get her a catch."

Jody picks up a tray filled with their famous crab puffs and hands it to Dean. "This way, you won't snack while you walk around." She pats his shoulder. "Just use that charm you use when you go to the bar, and who knows, maybe she'll find appeal in the lower people."

"Yeah, ok." Dean snorts. He gives Jody and Donna a salute before pushing open the double doors to exit the kitchen. As he walks down the hallway that connects to the ballroom, he can already hear the high priced sounds of an overpaid DJ, the technobabble of the music not to his taste.

Dean's eyebrows raise at all the people milling around. Jody's crew has done numerous parties here, but never to a crowd this large. He takes in a deep breath and plasters on his best fake smile before weaving into the group with his tray.

He gets about halfway through the room before his tray is picked clean, and he sets it down at his side, indicating that he's empty. Dean hasn't even spotted the rest of the crew and wonders if he's ever going to get a chance to find them when a sharp poke on his shoulder causes him to wince and turn around.

"Just where do you think you're going?" The cold British accent demands.

"Back to the kitchen to get a fresh tray of hors d'oeurves, ma'am." He smiles and bows his head slightly. "I'll be right back."

"I didn't say you could leave the floor." The brunette looks him up and down. "Who are you? You didn't come in with the original crew."

"I'm one of the waiters for the catering crew. I wasn't scheduled to work, but I came in last minute to cover for a coworker." Dean tilts his head slightly in confusion. "I'm sorry, but I didn't get a chance to look over the guest list. Who are you?"

The woman in front of him scoffs, and her eyes turn dark with anger. "You think I'm a guest?" She squares her shoulders and pushes into Dean's personal space. "I'm the person paying your paycheck right now."

"My apologies, Miss Talbot." Dean nods his head in apology. "Descriptions don't give your beauty justice."

"Wiseass." Bela grabs him by the tie and pulls him down to her level. "You're late to my party, you insult me, and then think you can worm your way out of it with a fake affection?" She stares at him, her eyes shooting daggers. "You are a worm, and you should be grateful that I'm even allowing you to stay."

Dean's lips press into a firm, hard-line. "Again, my apologies."

"Your boss will hear of this insolence." Bela slowly eyes him up and down. "Good thing you're pretty, I'd have you escorted off the premises now." She turns and walks away, stopping to look over her shoulder. "When you do come back to the floor, do bring more of those crab puffs, and find me immediately." She waves Dean off and focuses her attention on another gentleman.

Dean rolls his eyes and turns to go back to the kitchen when his eyes lock on a guy across the room. He has dark, messy hair and eyes that cannot possibly be so blue. He stares for a moment, ripping his eyes away only when he realizes the other guy has caught him staring. Dean blushes and rushes back into the kitchen.

"Jody, how long are we supposed to be here for?" Andy's leaning on one of the prep tables when Dean gets back in the kitchen. "Cause I swear on Nietzsche's grave, I will go batshit if my ass gets grabbed again."

"At least you didn't accidentally ask the Host who she is." Dean set his tray in front of Donna. "Request for more of the crab bites from the bitch herself."

Jody looks back and forth between the two before looking at Donna. "I'm sorry, guys." She starts to say something when Aaron walks back in and slams his tray on the table.

"Whoever said that Satan was evil, has not met that woman." Aaron walks over to Dean and greets him. "Sorry you're here, dude, but I am glad to see you."

"He didn't stand a chance either, Aaron." Andy looks over. "I failed, you failed, and Dean failed."

"Victor hasn't come back yet, you know." Donna starts placing crab puffs on Dean's tray. "Maybe he's had some luck."

Jody points at Donna as Victor walks back into the kitchen, a smug smile on his face. "What canary did you eat, Vic?"

"I have gotten the phone numbers of several extremely attractive ladies." He reaches into his waistcoat pocket and pulls out four pieces of paper. "And one decent looking guy, not my type, though." He hands the slip to Dean, who slaps it away.

"I'm here to work, dumbass." Dean rolls his eyes. "Has the Queen Bee not gotten to you yet?"

"Nope." Victor grabs Dean's tray and walks towards the door. "I see her coming, and I keep walking."

Dean looks at the prep table then looks at Victor before flipping him off. "That's my tray!"

"Dean, take this one." Donna slides one with meatballs on it over to him. "Remember, that bitch was looking for the crab puffs. She'll go after him." Donna winks at Dean, who lets out a frustrated sigh.

"Guys, I promise I will make this up to you. We're here for another two hours. Smiles, flirt, be eye candy for the ladies, cause let's face it, she wants the male attention on her, and if her female guests are staring at you.."

Dean, Aaron, and Andy all grumble in agreement, and Dean heads back out to the ballroom.

"Dean!" Jody calls out after him. "Don't spill anything on Miss Talbot!"

Back in the multitude of the crowd, Dean expertly weaves his way through the groups of people, stopping briefly to allow them to grab a meatball or two off of his tray. He keeps his best crowd-pleasing smile on, and a few of the ladies do start to flirt with him.

Like Victor, he ends up with a couple of their numbers shoved into his pocket. He smiles at each lady despite feeling dirtier each time he's looked at, talked to, or even pawed on. He looks toward the kitchen, finding a clear path and turns to head back, needing a moment away from the idiots on the floor.

As Dean gets nearer to the kitchen, he's stopped by a very gentle tap on the arm. He turns around to present the tray, and he comes face to face with the blue-eyed guy from earlier. Dean sucks in a breath and takes him in for a moment, now that he can see him up close and personal.

Blue-eyes is wearing an AC/DC shirt underneath a well-fitting blazer, and a nicely tight-cut pair of slacks. The eyes that were insanely blue from a distance are even more spectacular and otherworldly. Dean has to rip his eyes away to focus on making words.

"These are Rosemary Thyme... uh," Dean stumbles over his words slightly. "Sorry. These are balsamic glazed, Rosemary and Thyme meatballs, made from lamb and pork."

Blue-eyes smiles at Dean, and Dean nearly melts on the spot. "Delicious." The stranger grabs one by the toothpick and pops it into his mouth, Dean watching it intently. "The meatball was good too."

Dean swallows hard before feeling a shove knocking him back. "I'm so sorry, is the kitchen staff bothering you?"

Bela.

"Shall we go somewhere more quiet to talk?" Bela slides her arm into Blue-eyes' and pulls him away, bringing Dean back to reality.

Dean stops in the kitchen and drops off his tray, telling Donna that he needs a minute, and to fill it back up while he takes a quick break. He peeks back out the double doors and heads towards the restroom, hugging tightly to the wall to not be stopped by someone looking for staff.

He slides into the restroom without a hitch and takes a moment to look himself over in the mirror. Dean knew that when he told Jody yes that this would be a rough night. He turns the cold water on and splashes his face, trying to relieve the redness and the puffiness starting to form around his eyes.

Dean grabs a towel from the dispenser and dries his face, taking another look in the mirror. "You're nothing to these people, Dean," he whispers to the mirror. The door to the bathroom opens, and he jumps, figuring that the guests would have the main one at the front of the venue.

"I thought I saw you sneak in here." The deep, gravelly voice that had managed to rattle him in six words, cause him to look up. "I apologize for Bela's behavior. She's quite rude and off-putting."

"She had you wrapped around her finger easy enough, though."

Blue-eyes nods. "It would appear that way, yes. Trust me when I say that I was caught off guard as much as you were."

"I don't know you to trust you, Buddy." Dean finishes drying off his hands and throws the paper towel into the trash. "So, forgive me if I'll pass." Dean attempts to walk past Blue-eyes when that same gentle touch catches his arm.

"Please, let me show you? I want nothing more than to make up for Bela's idiocy and poor manners."

Dean shakes his head and, despite not wanting to, tugs his arm back. "That's up to her to correct. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work. Us little people can't keep the rest of you waiting, can we?" He walks out of the bathroom and hightails it back to the kitchen."Your tray is ready, Big D." Donna nods towards the tray sitting in front of her. "All fresh. The rest are on a plate over there for you and the boys to snack on."

"I can't."

"Dean?" Jody walks out of the small office to the side after hearing Dean's assertion. "What happened?"

"It's too much, ok?" Dean looks at Donna. "I'm sorry, Donna, but can you please take this tray? I'll take over prep for a bit. Then I should be ok to go."

Donna starts to nod, but Jody holds her hand up. "Nuh-uh, Winchester. You don't get like this. You look like a caged animal right now. What happened?"

"They're drinking more, and they're getting worse. I wouldn't be surprised when Aaron and Andy come back if they say they're done." Dean reaches into the pockets of his waistcoat, and then his back pocket. He drops several crumbled pieces of paper on the prep table. "They're handsy; they're not respecting personal space." He runs his fingers through his hair. "For fuck's sake, Jody, I was talking to a guest about the meatballs, and that Bela Bitch practically tackled me cause it was a guy that she's clearly marked for herself."

"She did what?" Jody's eyes light up in anger. "I believe you 100%, but please tell me who saw it."

Dean looks at Donna, who shakes her head and points at Jody. "The guy who she grabbed and pulled away from me after she shoved me. He's about my height, messy dark hair, blue eyes." Dean pauses, hoping that's enough from him, but Jody gestures for him to continue. "He's wearing an AC/DC shirt under a blazer. He's the only guy I saw doing something like that. Most of them are trussed up."

"Got it. You two stay here. I'm sending the rest of the boys back." Jody turns and heads out to find Dean's mystery blue-eyed guy.

Donna pats the stool next to her. "Come here, Dean." She waits until she's seated next to him and hands him a spinach puff. "Don't worry, seafood free." She smiles at him."I know this has been a shit night for you and the rest of the guys. Jody's been back here, dotting her Is and crossing her Ts to make sure Bela can't hire anyone from the area again."

"Good lot that does to help us." Dean leans forward, resting his elbows on the prep table. "Bela finds that out, she'll deny payment."

"Hence why–" Donna's cut off by Andy and Victor entering the kitchen. "Aaron behind you two?"

Victor nods. "I think so. Jody got to us first." He set his tray down on the table and sat down across from Dean. "What's going on?"

"The big bitch shoved Dean here." Donna moves to start packing up the remaining ingredients. "She's just collaborating his story to cover our asses, and then we're getting out of here."

"Seriously?" Andy perks up and walks over to Donna. "What can I do to help?"

Donna laughs and shows Andy items to pack up. While they work on cleaning up, Aaron bounds into the kitchen. "Jody says she's giving us a five-minute head start. Something about confirmation that Dean was attacked?"

"You two just going to stand there?" Donna snaps at Victor and Dean. "You too, Aaron, she wants us to pack up the van to haul ass out of here. She doesn't think Bela's going to take it well when we bail."

The boys quickly help Donna break down and pack up their gear. As they're about halfway through, Jody enters the kitchen with a massive grin on her face. "Ready to go?"

...

A week later, Dean meets up at Jody and Donna's to pick up his paycheck. Jody greets him happily and brings him into their kitchen to enjoy one of Donna's pies while they chat about the party.

"We haven't had any issue. We didn't charge her for the last hour of the event. But, we still charged her for all the ingredients and the setup and breakdown fees." Jody sets a beer in front of Dean. "She's paid for everything we've asked."

"How the hell did that happen?" Dean asks, gratefully sipping the beer.

Donna sits across the table from Dean, chuckling. "You and I both know Jodes has a way with words."

"So, why am I sitting here and why you two look like you're buttering me up?" Dean looks back and forth between the two. "Are you letting me go?"

"No." Jody rolls her eyes. "We have another gig, and we want you there. I already cleared the date with Bobby, but he said to make sure you want to work it first."

"And we could really, really use you. It's another big-name client." Donna adds.

Dean drains his beer and shakes his head. "Call me when it's a small wedding or something."

"Dean, they offered three times our normal rate." Jody advertised. "Including bonuses for any staff we bring. That could be the last bit you need to pay for Sam's last year at school."

"I don't like being treated like shit or an object, Jody."

"And you won't be," Donna affirms. "The person who hired us? They have a full security detail. We're catering at their house, and they won't hesitate to kick out anyone. They promised us."

Jody nods in agreement. "We let them know our concerns."

"Come on, Big D!" Donna leans across the table and playfully punches Dean in the shoulder. "We need you."

The next week, Dean shows up to the "house" following the directions Jody and Donna gave him. He pulls up, and a friendly staff member tells him where he can park as a member of the Catering Staff. He pulls into a spot behind the mansion and is quickly shown the way to the kitchens.

Andy's already helping Donna fill the first tray, and Jody is excitedly talking on the phone to someone. Jody sees Dean and smiles, holding up her finger. "Alright, Benny. Take care, give Andrea all our love and kisses to the little bean!" She hangs up the phone. "Alright, you two are my only servers tonight. There are only about 40 people here per our host."

"Yeah, who is this host?" Andy looks up from the tray he's loading. "Neither of you have said anything."

"It's the Philanthropist, Castiel Novak!" Jody is practically vibrating, and Donna lovingly rolls her eyes. When the guys don't share her enthusiasm, she frowns. "Really, you two?"

"Not much of a philanthropist if Dean nor I have heard of him." Andy winks at Donna.

"Dean? You don't know who he is?" Jody's face drops in shock. "Are you two serious?"

Dean shakes his head, confirming Andy's statement. "I have no idea who this dude is."

"Uh-huh." Jody crosses her arms over her chest. "Well then, you're in for a pleasant surprise, Dean."

"I don't like surprises, Jodes." Dean looks at Donna. "Anything I can do to help get ready?"

Donna pushes a tray at Dean. "Nope. You can start serving. That'll be Andy's tray if he stops eating every other one." Donna swats at Andy's hand.

"Show me the way, Jody?" Dean gestures toward the kitchen exit before picking up his tray and following.

"Dean?" Jody stops him before he walks out to the main room. She fixes his tie and straightens his lapels. "Thank you for coming. I know how hesitant you were." She leans up and kisses his cheek. "Award-winning smile, okay?"

Dean nods and heads out to the guests, plastering on the smile Jody requested. He weaves his way among them and finds them strangely friendly and pleasant. His tray clears out quickly, and no one is rude to him or yells at him for being out of hors d'oeuvres.

As he makes his way back to the kitchen, a fiery redhead catches his attention and waves. He holds his tray up to show that it's empty, and she shakes her head and laughs, excusing herself through the crowd. "Hi, sorry, didn't mean to confuse there. I'm Charlie. Charlie Bradbury."

"Not to be mean, but I have no idea if that's supposed to mean something?" Dean grimaces at the fact that he has to admit that he doesn't know who she is, and reminds himself to grab a guest sheet from Jody if she has one.

"Oh please, if you know who I am, I've screwed up royally." Charlie smiles, and Dean finds himself smiling despite himself. "Just checking in. Everything ok with you and the rest of your team?"

Dean looks around the room before looking back at Charlie. "It's not my team. The company is Jody's and Donna's second-in-command." He holds the tray across his chest. "Why do you ask?"

"I know that, Dean. Just making sure no one is harassing you or Andy." She smiles and winks.

"I know for a fact that I didn't tell you my name."

Charlie winks again, exaggerating it this time. "And you didn't have to. I'm Castiel's head of security. I know everyone's face, name, favorite color. No one gets in here without me knowing who they are."

"My favorite color?" Dean questions skeptically.

"Green. Although you're also partial to purple." She snaps and points at Dean.

Dean looks around again. "Am I on Candid Camera?"

"Nope, I'm just very good at my job." Charlie gestures towards the kitchen. "Let's get that tray refilled. I've heard amazing things about the spinach puffs you guys make."

"So, uh. Can I ask you a question?" Dean looks over to Charlie as they walk back towards the kitchen. "Who is your boss?"

"Cas?" Charlie pauses for a moment. "He's an amazing, down to earth guy. He was born into dirty money but did everything to turn it around and make it clean. Cas gives away most of his profits to charity each year, and he doesn't brag about it. Most of the things he does, you wouldn't know unless you follow who he assists."

The pair enters the kitchen, and Dean sets his tray in front of Donna. "Request for the spinach puffs, D-Train."

Donna nods. "I see you met Charlie."

"Just met, actually." Charlie smiles. "If I can just steal a couple of puffs for myself, you can put whatever you want on that tray."

"Consider it done." Donna places a few on a plate and slides them over to Charlie.

"Thank you!" Charlie takes a bite and moans happily. "These are freaking delicious. No wonder Castiel wanted you guys for this!" She finishes the puff and looks back at Dean. "So, two jobs, right? You work at Singer Auto Shop full time, and then help out Jody and Donna when they need servers?"

"Did you run full background checks!?"

"Yes!" Donna and Jody reply before Charlie can.

Charlie nods in confirmation. "What they said. I'm just a little more in-depth."

"So, why am I getting the third degree if you already know what my answers are?" Dean crosses his arms over his chest.

"Gotta protect my best friend." Charlie shrugs. A voice calls from the main room, and her head snaps to attention. "That would be Castiel's entrance. Gods know how much he hates them, but when he runs charity events like this, the board insists that he has an entrance." She points to the tray. "Grab that and come on."

Dean grabs the tray and follows Charlie back out to join the guests. He stands ready with his tray and looks over at the stairs where everyone is watching.

It takes all of his willpower not to drop his tray.

Castiel Novak is Blue-eyes.

Dean rolls his eyes and walks back to the kitchen, not waiting for Castiel to walk down the stairs fully.

"Dean?" Donna looks up from the pastries she's prepping. "What's wrong?"

"Where's Jody?" Dean asks, a hint of anger and frustration in his voice.

"I'm right here." Jody steps back into the kitchen and next to Donna. "What's wrong?"

"You knew." He points at her. "You knew the entire time who Castiel is. You knew he was the reason I was treated like shit at the last event." Dean shook his head. "Jody. We've been friends for years. Why wouldn't you tell me?"

Jody looks at Donna, who shakes her head in return and goes back to prepping the pastries. "Because I knew you wouldn't come. Several witnesses came to your defense at the last event, Dean. And they all said the same thing. You and Castiel were flirting. Which is why I was surprised you said you didn't know who he is."

"Jody." Dean shakes his head and looks down at the floor. "I need a few. Take my tray, please?"

Jody nods and takes the tray out to the guests, passing Andy on her way out. He sets his tray in front of Donna and smirks. "How'd you two get the boss lady to serve?"

"Not right now, Andy." Donna frowns and slightly nods her head towards Dean.

"Dean-O?" Andy takes Donna's hint and crosses over to Dean. "You alright there?"

"No."

"Me neither then." He looks over his shoulder at Donna. "We're going for a smoke. I'll be back before my tray's ready."

"Neither one of you smoke." Donna raises her eyebrow curiously but amends her statement when Andy shoots her a look. "I mean, of course. You've got like 5 minutes."

Andy gives her a thumbs up and leads Dean out the backdoor. "What's going on, Dude?"

"You saw Castiel?" Dean waits until Andy confirms that he did. "Did he not look familiar to you?"

"Should he?" Andy hopped up on a retaining wall and patted for Dean to sit next to him.

"Dude, he was at the event two weeks ago."

Andy laughed, "No offense Dean, but do you know how many dates I've had with Moby Bong since that shit show?" When Dean doesn't answer, Andy continues. "I take it he's one of the assholes that treated you like shit?"

"More like the opposite." Dean ran his fingers through his hair. "He was nice to me, and he flirted."

"Dude, go flirt back then! Sugar Daddy for Dean!" Andy nudges Dean with his elbow playfully.

"No," Dean answers quickly. "Nothing would come from it."

Andy sighs and looks at Dean. "You know, back when we dated, I used to think I didn't deserve Tracey."

"Okay?"

"That wasn't my decision to make. It was hers. And in the long run? My insecurities chased her off." Andy claps Dean on the shoulder. "And I still fucking miss her, Dean. Get over yourself and let someone else tell you what they think of you."

Dean brushes Andy's hand off his shoulder and hops down off the wall. "Go get your tray from Donna, and if Jody's done with mine, tell her I'll be back in a few. I'm hitting the head."

"You don't want to admit I'm right, fine, Dean." Andy pushes off the wall and follows Dean back to the house. "But don't fuck up like I did. I'm trying now, and it's a hell of a difference." He points down a hallway once they get back inside. "Staff facilities are down there. What kind of house has a locker room for staff?"

"Rich people houses." Dean turns and heads down the hallway, pushing on the door marked for staff.

He quickly goes to the bathroom, before finding himself standing in front of the mirror again. "This fucking Deja vu." He washes his hands and splashes the cold water on his face. As he dries his hands and face, the door opens, with Castiel walking in.

Dean manages not to roll his eyes to the back of his head, keeping his focus on the sink.

"Hello, Dean." Castiel takes a few steps in and stops at the edge of the row of sinks. When Dean doesn't respond, he takes another step closer. "Enjoying the party so far?"

Dean rolls his eyes. "Not much to enjoy at a party when you have to work."

"Dean?" Castiel risks another step closer. "Talk to me, are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm freaking awesome." Dean grips the edge of the sink and keeps his eyes down.

"You're not awesome. What's wrong?"

Dean closes his eyes at Castiel's voice, the question sounding unfairly innocent coming from him. "Nada. Just trying to remember why I like this job."

"You don't like it now?" Castiel takes another step closer. "Why?"

"Honestly?" Dean looks up and looks at himself in the mirror, trying desperately to not look at Castiel. "I don't like who we cater to."

"Do you mean cater as in what your actual job description is, or do you mean catering as in appeasing?" Cas leans back against the sink, the warmth of his skin threatening ea closer proximity to Dean.

"I just don't like the people who see me as a servant."

Dean watches as Cas nods. "You mean people like me."

"Yeah, Castiel. People just like you."

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand." Dean watches in the mirror as Cas turns to look at him. "What exactly did I do to deserve your ire?"

Dean stands up and looks Castiel in the eyes. "You're just like the rest of them. You hide behind the fact that you can add 'philanthropist' to your abundant list of titles."

"You never even gave me a chance, Dean." Castiel steps closer to Dean. "You don't know me. I am a nice guy." His eyes flick down to Dean's lips. "I wanted to kiss you, the last time I saw you." Castiel looks back at Dean. "But, I didn't."

"What? Why are–"

"Because that would have been weird." Castiel steps into Dean's personal space, pushing him back against the wall. His lips lock on to Dean's, binding them in a fluster of confusion, want, and need. Castiel grabs Dean's hips and pulls them closer together, causing Dean to whimper involuntarily.

Dean pulls himself together long enough to push Castiel off of him. "Stop." He shakes his head. "You don't want this. You don't want me." The door opens, and Dean takes the opportunity to leave.

He moves quickly past Donna and finds Jody in the kitchen. "I'm sorry. You don't have to pay me. But I'm leaving." Dean rushes out the back door and hops into the Impala, taking off and heading back home.

Dean pulls into his apartment complex and heads inside, grabbing a beer. His phone keeps ringing and vibrating, phone calls, and text messages that he chooses to ignore.

Dean's thoughts are barreling down an unknown track at hundreds of miles per hour. He'd be lying if he said that he didn't want that kiss. Castiel has been on his mind since that night at Bela's party. At the same time, he's unsure as to what the kiss means. Did Castiel see him as all the other people had at that party? Was he just another object to be used and tossed away when he no longer had a purpose?

Against his better judgment, Dean grabs his laptop and sits on his sofa. His cell phone rang for the umpteenth time, and he shut it off completely. Dean loaded up Google and started the search to find out what he could about Castiel.

Some point during his research, Dean must have fallen asleep as he wakes up to a knock on his door. He stands up and quietly walks over and looks out the peephole. The redhead, Castiel's head of security, is standing outside on his stoop. He closes his eyes, trying to recall her name, when she knocks on the door again.

"Dean, can you please open up? It's Charlie. I know you're home." Dean quietly thanks her for calling out for him and looks through the peephole again. She appears to be upset, genuinely concerned, and he gives in.

"Is it just you?" He asks, hoping he doesn't regret this decision.

"One hundred percent just me, Dean." She pauses. "Please, can I talk to you?"

Dean opens the door and lets Charlie in. "Come in." He closes the door after she enters. "Welcome to my humble abode."

"I love it." Charlie smiles at him as she walks into the living room. "Harrison Ford fan?" She points to the framed Indiana Jones movie posters.

Dean nods, unsure of what to say.

"This feels like a home. Cas and I never feel at home back at his place." Charlie looks at Dean. "I'm sorry."

"For what, Red?" Dean slowly sits back down on the sofa and closes his laptop, remembering what he was doing on it.

"I already knew you were Googling him." Charlie raises her eyebrow. "I have a program that catches when his name whenever someone searches for him." She points next to Dean. "May I?" She waits until Dean nods before sitting next to him. "There was a huge miscommunication somewhere, and I don't know where it was. It's my fault that Cas is hurting, and you're upset."

"Your fault?" Dean shakes his head. "How the hell did you come to that conclusion?"

"I'm the reason Cas had the party. And the reason you guys were the catered staff." Charlie hangs her head. "He told me that he met the most incredible man at Talbot's party. Which, how he managed to even get away from Bela for ten seconds, surprises me."

"So, you assumed the guy was me?"

"The guy is you, Dean. Castiel is furious with me because I meddled." She looks around the living room before settling her eyes back on Dean. "Cas and I have been best friends since high school. He hated his family name. What did I tell you back at his house? You can Google that."

Dean nods. "I did. I saw it. His family doesn't appear to be very nice people."

"Cas managed to stay clear of all the drama because he has a conscience." Charlie starts playing with a strand of her hair. "He's never done anything for himself. To hear him say that there was someone he was interested in? Dean, those words have never come out of his mouth.

"I didn't realize how limited an interaction you two had. I guess romantic me thought you two talked late into the party, and like Cinderella, you had to run."

Dean laughs. "Why does everyone assume I'm a freaking princess?"

"It's not an insult. Just remember, a princess becomes queen. The queen is the strongest piece on the board." Charlie pauses to let that sink in then inhales deeply. "I told your boss that you had to be part of the staff. If she could get you on board, we'd give a bonus to each staff member."

"You can just throw away Castiel's money like that?"

"It's not throwing it away if it goes to a Mom and Mom business who needs it. Or to their staff. Cas agrees with me on that completely." Charlie crosses her arms. "The catch was, you weren't supposed to know who the client was until you got on site."

"So, Castiel, in the bathroom?"

Charlie frowns. "Thought you were at the party because you wanted to see him again."

"So..." Dean nods, running through his question in his mind. "Is he actually interested in me?"

"Dean, I swear to the gods. If I had to hear about you one more time over the past two weeks, I was going to strangle him myself." She looks at Dean. "I'm here to ask you for another chance since I screwed his up."

"Even after what happened?"

Charlie nods. "He's not mad with you. He's mad at the situation, and he's mad that I exacerbated it. He wants to get to know you."

Dean stands up and starts pacing. "Look, let's say I believe you. Let's say that Cas wants that."

"He does!" Charlie protests before being hushed by Dean.

"Hold on. Why me? We are worlds apart." Dean crosses his arms and looks at the petite woman on his couch. "He can have anyone and anything he wants. He only needs to snap his fingers."

"He wants a person who can keep him grounded. Who can call him out when his head is in the clouds. He may have turned his family's crap into gold, Dean, but he's still a rich kid who just wants someone to love him for him." She opens her mouth to say more but stops herself. "There are things you need to learn about him, from him."Dean sits down in a chair and looks at Charlie. "Did he send you?"

"No." Charlie pulls out her phone, unlocks it, and sets it down in front of Dean. "When we figured out what happened, when I came clean, he yelled at me to get out." She points to the phone. "He's been trying to get ahold of me to come home. Cas doesn't know I'm here."

Dean picks up the phone and swipes through. Unless they're acting, which he doubts, Castiel has texted her for the past forty-five minutes, asking her to respond or to at least come home. He hands the phone back to Charlie. "So what do you suggest? What's your plan to make it right."

"Really?" Charlie's eyes light up, and she looks as though a weight has lifted off her shoulders. She leans forward, and together the two of them start planning.

...

A few nights later, Dean is sitting in a booth by himself at his favorite place to eat, The Roadhouse. He may be a little biased since Ellen is his aunt, but free beer and amazing cheeseburgers go a long way when you're broke. Dean takes another look at his phone and takes a deep breath. He should have company joining him at any moment.

The chime to the front door rings and he can hear Charlie. "You said anywhere, Cas. I'm choosing here. I've heard they have the best burgers in town."

"It looks like the burgers will be good." Dean hears Castiel's voice, and it's almost like hearing it for the first time. "It's got that feeling of good, homecooked food."

"Well, I guess we'll have to find out," Charlie replies, a little too loudly and a little too stiffly, almost causing Dean to lose it in laughter.

Dean slides out of his seat, and turns to the entrance, finding a suddenly surprised Castiel, his head whipping back and forth between Charlie and Dean.

"You're here?" Castiel's head tilts in confusion. "I would have figured you hated me."

"You have a highly convincing wingwoman as your best friend there, Cas." Dean nods towards Charlie.

"You did cheat at poker." Cas points at Charlie, accusing her.

The redhead shrugs. "I needed to make sure I won, so you would let me choose where to eat." She winks at Dean. "That being said, I have places to be, so catch you bitches later." Charlie flashes a peace sign and exits the Roadhouse.

"Care to join me?" Dean points to his booth.

"You want me here?" Cas looks at Dean cautiously. "We didn't part on good terms."

"We had no terms, Cas." Dean stops. "Is it ok if I call you Cas?"

Cas nods slowly and walks to the table. "It's always been Charlie's nickname for me. But if she's ok with you using it, I prefer it." He sits on the other side of the booth. "Can I ask why here?"

"Why here, as in why I picked here for our first date?" Dean smiles as Cas' jaw drops. "Because the first two times, we were in your world. There was decadence, and there was opulence." Dean sits down and slides to be across from Cas. "I might dress up pretty, but that ain't me. If you want me like you say you do. If you actually want to know me?" Dean gestures around. "This is my world, Cas."

"That's not me–" Cas stops himself. "Anyway I phrase it, I'm probably going to shove my foot in my mouth." His mouth quirks up in an apologetic smile. "Tell me more about you, Dean? Tell me something that one of Charlie's background checks wouldn't tell me."

Dean snorts in laughter. "Your girl is creepy. Like, I've enjoyed getting to know her, but damn. She knows my favorite color, and I never told her. I wouldn't know what you found out."

"She's good at what she does." Cas agrees easily. He pauses, his finger tapping on his lips. "You said you gave me a second chance because of her. But there has to be more to it than that."

"You want to know?" Cas nods, and Dean continues. "It was what Charlie said, something my friend Andy said, and one other thing."

"What did they say?"

Dean leans forward towards Cas. "Charlie admitted fault and explained to me that you are a good person who wants someone to like you for you, and maybe love you for you." Dean takes a deep, calming breath. "Andy said it's not up to me if someone likes me or not."

"Charlie, while an over-sharer, is not wrong, and your friend Andy sounds very wise." Cas offers his hand.

"Don't let Andy hear you say that. He already has an inflated ego." Dean takes Cas's hand and squeezes lightly.

Cas tilts his head. "So, what's the third thing?"

Dean pushes himself forward, his mouth catching Cas' by surprise. He lets himself melt into the kiss, the feeling of electricity shooting through him just as it did at Cas' house. His hand wraps around the back of Cas' head, locking them together. When Dean pulls back for air, his fingers run through Cas' thick locks. Dean smiles at Cas. "I wanted to see your face when I surprised you with that kiss."

Cas blushes and smiles at Dean. "I look forward to getting to know you. Correctly this time.”

[thefiresensei]

Fic Update!

The next chapter of my fanfic Hana is here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13277868/6/Hana

Or read below: 

Chapter 6: Reveal

Ringo sat herself down on the stool Pixal had pulled out for her, nodding thanks to Zane as he pushed over a fresh mug of something hot to her. She looked around wide eyed and blinking as the team silently gathered, pulling and scraping themselves onto the various stools and chairs around the lengthy wooden table, accepting brightly coloured mugs filled with the steaming tea from the nindroid.

All of them except Kai, who stood, leaning back on the fridge, arms folded, brows knitted as he stared up into the galley kitchen's panelled ceiling. Ringo looked up, trying without success to catch the still ninja's eye.

Lloyd leaned forward, his gloved thumb kneading his mug handle. "We need to know a bit more about your… family history." His green eyes glimmered apologetically, mouth turned up in a gentle half smile. Ringo released the breath she hadn't realised she was holding, looking around at the assembled team.

"Ummm, okay. You want to know about my uncle?"

"You said your uncle was James." Kai's head slowly turned to survey her. "James and Karin, who live by the lake at Ignacia's edge." One eyebrow rose as he pushed himself off the fridge slightly.

"I… they are!" Ringo's cry turned more bewildered as Kai finally might her eye, his dark expression confusing her more.

Nya leaned back, sending an elbow jabbing into her brother's side behind her. "You can have more than one uncle you know, Kai."

"Thanks for the genealogy lesson, Ny'." Kai unfolded his arms, grabbing the nearest sheet of paper that happened to be a bill stuck to the fridge with a little green ninja magnet, the speech bubble coming off of it filled with the slogan "Saving the City". He flipped the paper over onto the table, pushing it forward to the student, quickly twisting himself round and yanking open a kitchen drawer, muttering under his breath as he rummaged, more magnets, random screws, buttons and other paraphernalia spilling out.

"What do you want me to do with-" She paused as Kai let out a triumphant a ha!, pizza and other takeout menus flying out alongside the pen he pulled out and tossed over to her.

"Write down your family tree." He paused, his eyes softening slightly as she looked up at him, the confusion welling in her eyes. "Please." She nodded, taking up the pen and scribbling quickly in the corner of the sheet to get the ink flowing. They all leaned in as she started to write her name in her flowing, slanted script, drawing a box around it and stabbing at it with the pen nib.

"Ok, so here's me. My parents are Megan and Sota," she added them to the sheet above her name. "…and I'm an only child." Her eyes flicked up briefly, seeking only Kai's who nodded, his features set in concentration. She drew a line from her mother's name, her neat cursive scribing the name of another.

"Megan is the sister of my uncle James, who you both know." She gestured the pen at Nya and Kai then quickly added on James' wife's name, Karin.

"Karin is my aunt." Ringo drew another line coming up from her aunt's name, arching out to the left. "She has an older brother, who is my other uncle, Dr Saunders. So I have two uncles." Ringo sat back, her eyes flicking from the sheet in front of her to Kai.

Jay rubbed at his neck. "Well...technically, three."

Zane placed his mug back down, appraising the blue ninja. "Technically, Jay, only one. They are not Ringo's uncles. There is no blood link there."

"What?" Ringo placed the pen down, her arms folding defensively. "I beg to differ! Blood or not he is my family! And who do you mean by 'they'?"

Zane's eyes floated back to Ringo's, softening. "I apologise Ringo, I did not mean any offence."

She shrugged, pushing her glasses back up. "None taken, although he is blood to me. He was always around when I was growing up; he was really fun. Quirky, eccentric… my fun uncle…and I'm getting really worried about him." She looked around at the awkwardly shifting team, her wistful eyes hardening as she folded her arms.

"Right, you lot need to spill. What's going on? Do you know where he is?"

Seven pairs of eyes turned to look at Kai, Ringo's turning to him a split second after. He blinked from his refuge against the fridge, mouth dropping open. "Who, me? You're going to leave this one to me?" He looked around the group, groaning as he was met with shrugs and averted eyes. "Seriously? Urgh." Running a hand through his hair, Kai shook his head, frowning before tipping a yelping Lloyd from his chair and throwing himself down into it.

"Okay, where to start…" He tapped his chin, sighing as he looked back at his friend. "So…what do you know about the Time Twins?" Ringo, sitting opposite the red ninja, cocked her head slightly, her feet jigging nervously under the table.

"The two who you guys banished? The elemental masters of time?"

Kai nodded slowly, a hand carding through his hair. "Well, not quite banished. Or by us..." Ringo narrowed her eyes, looking beyond him as she racked her brain.

"They were bad; they were in control of those snake warrior thingys but you guys fought them and averted some crisis or other and got rid of the snakes. That's about it."

Jay rolled his eyes. "Talk about the long and short of it…" he muttered as he looked around the room. It seemed like an age before Kai spoke again, his voice soft as he grabbed Ringo's hand in his.

"Yeah. That kind of summarises it… But I'm guessing you don't know their names? The masters of time I mean."

"Uh, no… Kai…? What exactly are you getting at…?" He responded by gripping her hand a little tighter taking a breath.

"Their names were, are, Krux and Acronix. But you know Krux by a different name, his alias-"

"No." She ripped her hand from Kai's, her stool knocking abruptly to the floor as she stood. "No. I don't want to hear this."

Kai pushed on, his eyes locking with Ringo's, heavy with regret as he looked at the raw agony spilling into hers.

"Krux was Dr Saunders."

"No. No... you're wrong."

"I'm sorry Ringo…" Kai looked down at his hands, heavy on the table where Ringo dropped them. Nya rose, quickly scooting and picking up where Kai had left off.

"Oh sweetie, Dr Saunders was not… who any of us thought." The water elemental stroked her hands down Ringo's arms, the student looking at her with wide, aghast eyes. "No, I don't believe you. He couldn't be."

Zane tapped into his arm control pad, projecting two images, one of Dr Saunders, one of a painting of Krux which Ringo vaguely recognised from somewhere but couldn't place, above them all. He gently tapped on the panel, the two flickering images twisting and merging together as one, the key features of the two undeniably matching together. "I am sorry Ringo, but they are one and the same."

Ringo collapsed back down on her stool, her eyebrows pinching. "But he, he was an elemental master? And he had a twin?" She looked around, bracing her elbows onto the tabletop, head in her hands as she wailed, "And they were evil?" She threw her head down, heavy coils and spirals of her hair cascading around her, fists working.

The next murmur from under the wild head of curls was barely audible but it resounded around the room clearly, each of the ninja looking to each other.

"So what does that make me?"