#and then i had dinner with ANOTHER friend and we talked until 10 pm and i felt so :'))) by the end of it

[c4llezz]

THAT'S WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR

Requested: Yes. Hmm.. What about Chuu x reader inspired by chaotic by Tate McRae? Maybe it's where reader finally breaks to Chuu and tells Chuu all about their problems. And reader wonders how Chuu could tell they weren't doing well. (Kinda like the Pre chorus and chorus) Thanks and take your time!

CHUU X F!READER

COLLAGE!AU

TW: Brief mentions of eating and sleeping problems

Genre: Angst, comfort

Word count: 1K

Inspired by chaotic by Tate McRae

A/N: This is kind of a sequel from that look, but is not necessary to have read it before :)

Gif is not mine!

Expect mistakes, happy reading!

After your last relationship ended everything in your life went down. Now you had a new friend group that consisted of Heejin, Hyunjin, Yerim and Hyeju. You met Heejin and Hyunjin in one of your first classes of the next semester, then Yerim when she asked you for money to buy lunch one day, and finally Hyeju, Yerim introduced you some days later.

But even with friends beside you, you felt alone. Heejin and Hyunjin had known each other since high school, same as Yerim and Hyeju, you couldn't help but feel left out sometimes (they were also younger than you, but that was not a problem). They were nice and try to include you in everything, you just didn’t find anything in common with them. Sometimes you’d go out with Kim Lip and Chuu, have lunch together and talk about your days.

Besides the new friend group, you also found a new job since you got fired from the last one you had. It was a bigger coffee shop and it meant more clients and stressful days. It also meant more money, something you’ve been struggling with for the past month. You haven’t told anyone that though, you didn’t want your friends to worry.

The clock read 9:53 meaning your shift was ending in 7 minutes. You started cleaning everything up since you were the one closing up when you heard the coffee shop’s bell. You sighed, you were too tired to deal with another customer, but then you thought about the tip they could give you for being the only coffee shop in the area open at that time. You put on your best fake smile and turned around to greet the newcomer “Welcome to Eden’s café, what can I get you?” When you noticed the familiar face your smile turned into a genuine one “Chuu! What brings you here at 10 pm?” you asked her

The girl just shrugged her shoulders “I was passing by and saw you here. Thought I could pass and say hi, we haven’t seen each other since Sunday”

“I’ve been really busy,” you told her, starting to clean the last table.

“I’ve noticed” She looked at your appearance, you had bags under your eyes and you also seem skinnier. A frown appeared on her face “Have you been eating well?” she asked.

You stopped your actions for a second “Yeah. I mean I haven’t eaten dinner yet but-”

“I’ll buy you dinner” she cut you off “I saw a restaurant that closes at 11 down the road”

You shook your head “You don’t have to do that” she gave you a stern look and you sighed “I’m guessing you aren’t taking a no for an answer?” she nodded “Ok then, let me finish here and we can go”

The restaurant was rather crowded for a Thursday night, it was filled with the chatter of people. You looked around and saw many groups of friends laughing or couples talking, and at that moment even with Chuu beside you, you felt alone.

Dinner was quiet, well you were. Chuu did talk a lot and you only listened to what she was saying, throwing comments here and there to let her know you were listening. She could see you playing with your food and without you really noticing she made you eat most of it, Psychology Major things.

After eating with Chuu you offered her a ride to her home, which she accepted. Once again it was quiet until she started speaking “I don’t want to sound rude or anything…but it looks like you’ve been going through hell.”

You gripped the steering wheel harder, how could she know?

It was like she was reading your mind because she answer your question after a few seconds of you not saying anything “I mean, you have bags under your eyes, you aren’t eating much and you haven’t talked at all. Are you okay?”

Are you okay? That’s the same question you’ve been asking yourself for the past months. It felt different now, hearing it from someone else. Were you okay? definitely not, you were going to be… eventually, that’s what you kept telling yourself “You know you can talk to me, right?” you were starting to feel nauseous, what were you supposed to tell her?

“I’ve just been busy” you shrugged trying to focus on the road ahead.

“You already said that. What is actually happening?”

You took a deep breath “My life just went downhill. I told my parents I wanted to change careers and they got really mad and now they are not talking to me. Then, my friends, they are great don’t get me wrong but… I just don’t fit there. And now I have to move because I don’t have enough money and I just can’t forget her if she is living just across the street” You didn’t have to explain who you were referring to, she already knew.

“How does that make you feel?” she asked.

You stopped the car on an empty street and looked at her “Awful and dumb. It happened like 3 months ago and I just can get over it, is stupid.”

She put her hand on your cheek and wiped some tears that had fallen, you didn’t even notice you had started crying “Is not. It's normal to feel that way about a breakup especially when she was your first love” Then she smiled at you. “You can move with me and Lip if you want and about your friends, I’m sure they’ll understand and even help you out, you just need to talk to them.”

“I don’t want to feel like a burden.”

“You are not. I know Heejin and she’ll do everything to make you feel comfortable with the group. I’ll help you until you feel better, after that too. That’s what friends are for,” She hugged you even if it was uncomfortable with the gear lever on the way.

You sniffled before pulling away with a small smile “Thank you, I didn’t know I needed that. I’m sure you’d be a great psychologist in the future.”

“Really?” you nodded, “Great! Now take me home so you can take a look at your new room.”

You chuckled, “As you wish, Dr.”

[umichenginabroad]

Welcome to the Basque Country!

Week 1 (first half)

The trek from Michigan to Spain was definitely an interesting series of planes, buses, and cars. I left DTW for a late night flight to Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam. I've never been on a super long flight before, so eating dinner and breakfast on the plane was a pretty cool experience. Would rate both meals a solid 8/10 (the chocolate-filled breakfast pastry was fire). AMS was a busy and BIG airport, but they're very efficient and have a lot of amenities for travelers. The bathroom situation is the only thing that I would say I didn't like, just because I spent so long trying to figure out how to flush the toilet and ended up clicking random buttons until it worked...a very classic new traveler moment. Besides that, I secured my stroopwaffles and was on my way to the Bilbao airport. On that flight, I ended up sitting next to a girl around my age who turned out to be from San Sebastian! She was returning to Spain after being in the United States for a study abroad type of program, which I thought was a funny coincidence since I'm just starting mine. From BIO I hopped on a bus to San Sebastian's city center, and along the way I was so amazed at how different the elevation is compared to what I see on a day-to-day basis in Michigan. At some points we would be so high up that my ears started to pop, and at other times I was looking out the window and barely even seeing the tops of the hills/mountains. Another thing I didn't really expect is the amount of forestry literally everywhere in the region. It makes for a really pretty landscape and is very interesting to see the houses and buildings interspersed through the mountainous areas in these thick groves of trees. By this point, I was already falling asleep but needed to make it through one more taxi ride until I could finally collapse!! I successfully called over a taxi, and immediately had to start using my Spanish with the driver. For a second I forgot that I was in a country where the primary language was something different than English, but once I knew he could understand what I was saying I became more comfortable talking with him. He was a super nice guy who pointed out different areas of the city that I should check out while driving me to the hotel (I never got his name but he's my hero for real!). After about 14 hours of travel, I bet you're wondering how it felt to hit the bed. Welllll, I dropped my things off in my room and then took off to take a walk around the city since I got a crazy energy rush and beat the jetlag (for now). On a normal Friday night at home, the streets and roads would be pretty dead and without much activity. That's the complete opposite of how it was in San Sebastian throughout the city. There were families with their kids, couples, groups of friends, performers, and just people everywhere out eating food and socializing. I loved it! In a way it makes you feel connected to everyone else because it's so lively and energetic. Overall, my first night in a new country was 100% a win.

When in San Sebastian, you get used to seeing signs or buildings in either Spanish or Euskara. I learned from the peer mentors at the University how Euskara is commonly used by the locals, that it's taught at home by parents or at school along with Spanish, and even that to work in the Basque country, it's necessary to know how to speak the Basque language. I was wondering if I could learn it but, unfortunately, it's a very ancient language that's influenced others like Spanish or French, but hard to pick up because it's so complex. However! Learning words or phrases isn't out of the question, so a new challenge of mine is to see how much Euskara I can fill my brain with before leaving. When we were doing an activity with the PMs I was listening to them speak what I thought was Spanish, thinking to myself like how do I not understand them at all??? Did my brain just flip out and now all my years of Spanish were for nothing?? To my relief, they explained it was Euskara and I felt soooo much better that I wasn't tripping. Below are some pictures of the streets we've walked through that show a little bit of the Basque language, along with a very famous hotel (the Maria Cristina), and an ancient thermometer/barometer!

It's very common here to relax and enjoy while eating, which hey, I'm not complaining and always down for some good foods. The first day of our program, we were taken out to this super amazing spot on a cable car called Monte Igueldo. The view overlooked the entirety of San Sebastian, which was nothing short of absolutely breathtaking. We had lunch at a restaurant near the top, and I had my first taste of highly anticipated...paella! Between the seafood and meat paella, I would have to say that the flavor was stronger in the meat one. It's definitely worth all that everyone says about it, along with the famous sidra (cider) of the basque region. Cider is so crazy popular here that sometimes locals will drink it in place of water for their meals. At first, I didn't get the hype, but after visiting the Cider House for another one of our events later in the week, I see it now. I'm gonna take a minute to talk about the Cider House because it was a really cool experience and I think there should be more places in the states like it. Basically, it's a big social event where different courses are served throughout the evening, such as cod, steaks, salads, chorizos, fish soups, etc. along with drinking cider that you get from these huge barrels and talking with other people who are there at the same time. It was a nice bonding moment with the peer mentors and also with the other students as well! Another type of social event is the pintxos, similar to tapas. There are a TON of combinations of these finger foods, ranging from something small like a ham croqueta to actual fried octopus. I know that there are so many food posts from a bunch of other bloggers, but I've gotta hop on that bandwagon and at least show a few pictures. SIDE NOTE! The coffee here is super strong and super fire. I don't want to hate too hard on Ann Arbor coffee, but the automatic coffee machines in the duderstadt do not compare to the ones they have here. First off, the prices are cheappp, and secondly the flavors and options are superior. I've featured several different foods here: the pintxos that I've tried so far, the paella, a chicken milanesa, and a café con leche XXL. Spain EATS with the food game.

So far, I've had a great time exploring the city, talking with the locals, trying different things, and seeing how the culture in Spain compares to that of the United States. We've been doing so much everyday, but I can't fit all of it in just one post so I'll be doing a second half of week 1 coming soon! Thanks for sticking through this looong post (I like to ramble sometimes so you're a trooper for making it to the end). The pic below is of me and some of my friends at the top of Monte Igueldo!

Agur! (Goodbye in Euskara)

Emily Dobao

Biomedical Engineering

IPE San Sebastian, Spain

May 26th, 2024

[lilliesforya]

Nichome (inside standing outside standing inside)

For our combined birthdays, Katie and I went to Tokyo. Specifically, Shinjuku. We met up with a friend from college and his friends from his abroad program. I was extremely tired because the night before I visited Shibuya with my friend from home and I did not sleep enough to warrant the late night I knew I was in for. I had an awful stomach ache which I later realized was mostly anxiety. Saturday started easily. The weather was so nice, sunny but not hot. This was early October so it was not true fall weather in Japan yet. My friend and I went to Ueno Park and got Starbucks. There are no Starbucks near me so whenever I go into the city I love to get some. The park was huge. I didn't know it was going to be so large because the entrance was sitting next to the train station. But the walkway just kept going. It was lined by trees too. There was a baseball field with people playing, a cafe, a huge open space where there were many food trucks set up, and lots of people. I love seeing groups of people, especially tour groups of foreigners or tourists.  

Katie and Is birthday plans started in Shimokitazawa, a thrifty/ artsy area of Tokyo. We got fluffy pancakes at a cafe she really likes and gossiped at a volume too loud for the small space. We checked out multiple thrift stores. One was more like an artist collective? It was under the same roof but there were different small shops. It seemed more curated/ vintage than thrifting. There was a jewelry section as well and every artist who had items for sale had a small box decorated with their jewelry and they were stacked on top of eachother. The other thrift stores were more thrifty and offered tons of college sweatshirts, sportsware, and t-shirts. I even saw three Fairfield University ones! No Rutgers or Pitt though :\ I almost bought this oversized Giants long sleeve shirt but it was too overpriced. 

After thrifting we walked around the neighborhood. There were many small shops and art displays. We got dinner at this Taiwanese restaurant that was in between various places to eat. It amazes me how much they can fit in spaces here. The soup dumplings were amazing, and they gave you paper bibs so you don't mess up your clothes and these small cups to hold the dumpling in. After, we made our way back to the hotel we were staying in to get ready for the night. 

My stomach was still bad at this point but I love getting ready to go out. We played music and put on our outfits. I had brought my favorite makeup and all of my rings. I ended up wearing one of katies shirts instead of the one I brought because it looked more appropriate for the bars. 

We went to 4 bars during the night. Two of them were really fun and had great music selections. In popular areas, usually you have to pay a cover fee to get into the bar. It's not too expensive usually and it will often cover a drink or two. Waiting in line for said drink is another story but once you pay for it you gotta get it. Once I was sufficiently drunk, it was much easier for me to let loose and dance. Being in a large group prevented any unwanted attention as well which made the night go much smoother. My right contact lens fell out of my eye at like 10 pm but I didn't realize until we got back to our room at like 4am. I thought my eye was just irritated all night. Luckily, you don't really need to see clearly to have fun in a bar. After the bars, we all went to eat at a gyudon place close by. It is common for some restaurants to be open late/ all night in these areas because they can make a lot of money from drunk people like us, and people coming back from working insane hours. We slept from like 4-9 am and even though we had drank the hangover prevention medicine (which did help a lot) I felt so awful I was like im not drinking for months. This was a lie but it was a good 2 weeks maybe? I was deathly silent the whole train ride back to my house and Katie talked nonstop which reminded me of college. 

[caelcstis]

i can’t tell if it’s my exhaustion encouraging the alcohol or the alcohol encouraging my exhaustion - also the heat. the heat ain’t helpin’ today, but needless to say i am very tired. i’ve been out since 10 am today, and have been doing one thing or another till just about now at 10 pm tonight. i had a lot of fun, like i got to see mario with my friend - we loved it and were trying so hard to not scream peaches bc the theatre was more packed than what we thought it was. 

i also got to take the dogs on a lil trip to the pet store where everyone loved them as usual, maybe got even more attention than usual and some of the older women insisted on stuffing treats down their throats - despite my youngest doesn’t really eat/accept treats out in public, so my back pocket was stuffed with treats until we got home. 

ordered some dinner with my mom, got hibachi for an early mother’s day dinner because i of course can’t be with her thanks to work. then we went out to my new favorite shop for frozen treats bc the one she wanted was absolutely slammed with no parking available. then we were watching all stars together so i am just now in bed and have some time alone lmao. 

like i said, had fun but i’m not sure what’s encouraging my exhaustion more tbh. idk if i’ll do anything?? probably just lurk on discord if you want to talk or dabble in small threads while my pea brain can still make sentences.

[twobillionseconds]

April 8th - April 15th 2023

I know it’s going to be a well over a week’s worth of multi-day post, but my wife’s father passed away. I’ll try to chronicle the week and maybe reflect on it on the end.

April 8th:

My wife comes back home from work. As she is about to head to bed she gets a call from her sister that her dad is on his last breaths. We quickly find her a flight to get on and she packs last minute. We spend some time together and plan out when I should head out. I take her to the airport and she leaves. I forgot that there was a birthday lunch. I go to that and hangout. I come back and take the dog to the beach. I call a friend and chat with him a bit. I text another to see how he is. Also my crown popped off. I had to go to a buddy’s house to see if someone could help me put it back in. I spend some time with them and watch UFC. After I head home and head to bed.

April 9th:

Forgot that it was Easter Sunday. I wake up to the text that my wife's father passed away. I am running around doing bunch of errands and cleaning the house as best I can. I was thinking about going to a social event, but I head to my friend’s place to drop off a blue apron mean and to hang out. It was good to talk to someone about some of the events that transpired over the past couple months. 

April 10th:

I finish packing. Fortunately the dentist was able to squeeze me in the morning to get my temporary crown put back in. I walk the dog, finish some more errands, and take the dog to the boarding place. I head to the airport and head to Springfield. I got into town around 9 PM and my brother in law picked me up. I met some of the family at my wife’s mom’s house and we hung out. We went to bed a bit early.

April 11th:

I decided to go for a long run. I ran for about 7 miles. I took a shower and I’m trying to remember what I did. Well for lunch all the family came over to my mother in law’s place for lunch to hang out and eat. I saw all my nieces and nephews and we hung out there. For dinner we went to a Mexican restaurant and ordered 3 towers of margaritas. I guess it’s only fitting that we celebrate the life of their father. When the family members that were staying over at my mother in law’s place came back we all drank whiskey and played cards until pretty late. It was a good evening. 

April 12th:

Today was the funeral. In the morning we all got ready and had breakfast. We took pictures. The funeral was around 1 PM. There was a short service and then some light snacks at my mother in law’s place after. People hung out for a while. For dinner one of my brother in laws and I went into town and bought bunch of liquor for drinks and groceries for dinner. We grilled venison and pork and made daiquiris and bunch of other stuff. There were some people who stayed over longer and we kept making drinks and chatting. I’m not going to lie I got really really drunk. 

April 13th:

Woke up hung over but not the usual kind. Said good bye to family that were leaving. A few of the brother in laws took me out to the lake to go fishing. We were out there for about 5 hours. I caught 3 fish. After we got ready for dinner. What we caught was what we ate. We gutted the fish and cleaned them. One of my brother in law deep fried them. We had a pretty big dinner. We came back to my mother in law’s place and had a quiet conversation and went to bed.

April 14th:

The ladies wanted to go get brunch so one of my brother in law took time off to show me around town. We just hung out most of the day. We saw some trailers he needed to see and we went to go shoot some guns and got pizza afterwards. For dinner we went to another brother in law’s house and had Chinese food and hung out. We all decided to go to a quarter arcade nearby and took 10 kids and 8 adults. We all had fun playing really cheesy arcade games and what not. The wife and I said our goodbyes to the remaining family and headed to my mother in law’s place.

April 15th:

Woke up and slowly packed. The wife and I helped my mother in law clean up some of the furniture after all the visitors. We had an early lunch and she took us to the airport. Came back to San Diego around 5:30 pm. Came home and picked up our dog. We picked up some groceries and made dinner at home. The wife went to bed early because she was tired and I stayed up a little bit late to catch up on this.

Reflections:

When I got the news that my father in law passed away, I texted a few close friends, “This thing called life is short. Hug your kids and call your parents.” Don’t know if they actually did that or not, but it was more of a coping mechanism for me. The other thing to as I saw my 4 brother in laws carrying the casket of their father, it just reminded me the mistake I made in waiting a bit longer to have kids. We should’ve tried earlier. My ignorance, hubris, and whatever else failed me. I don’t know if I’ll ever have kids of my own. This recent episode really showed me the importance of children. Children are suffering, long lasting, joyous, sorrowful. It brings out the best and worst of us, but I think it is what we are evolved to do. Somehow in today’s culture children are seen as just burdens. They are burdens and they are much more than that. Jordan Peterson says that early on you get to choose your suffering, but if you wait too long time will eventually choose it for you. I don’t know what lies ahead for me and my wife. It’s not like we haven’t tried. We tried to choose the suffering, but maybe we haven't tried enough. I don’t think the window has closed quite yet, but I know it’s closing pretty rapidly. There are some hard decisions we have to make either way. May God be with us if he is out there. God if you are real, I’ll make the sacrifice like you required Abraham. Maybe there are more things I need to sacrifice. 

[menuandprice]

Lava Rock Bar & Grill – Kihei, Maui, HI

Happy Hour at Lava Rock Bar & Grill – Kihei, HI

Updated 2/19/2023 by the Maui Happy Hours team

Happy Hour at Lava Rock in Kihei, Maui 3pm-6pm Daily

- $3 Beer Special (Bartender’s Choice) - $5 Mai Tai, Margarita, Mimosa, Well Liquor, Draft Beer - 50% off Appetizers

Lava Rock Mimosa Brunch Special

- $3 Mimosas every day until 2pm with food purchase ——————————

Address, Phone, and Website

Address: 1945 S Kihei Rd Suite H, Kihei, HI 96753 Phone:  (808) 727-2521 Website

About Lava Rock Bar & Grill

Lava Rock Bar & Grill is a casual restaurant that specializes in American Cuisine with global influences ranging from Argentina to Hawaii. Whether you’re craving a poke bowl or a steak slathered in chimichurri sauce, Lava Rock has it all. As soon as you step inside you are greeted with the Lava Rock Beer Tower with 16 different beers on tap. The bar features two quad-screen 110″ displays and sixteen 55″ screens to watch your favorite games including NFL football, or you can enjoy a game of pool in the billiards room. Are you looking for dinner with a view? It doesn’t get much better than enjoying your delicious meal while watching one of Maui’s beautiful sunsets. Our beautiful patio offers tables for your romantic anniversary dinner to your large family gatherings. Lava RockBar & Grill serves breakfast, lunch, and dinner and has nightlife events with DJ’s, dancing, and theme parties.

According to these Lava Rock Bar & Grill patrons

“Awesome happy hour! Bartender was great. Appetizers and fish tacos were delicious.” Greg W., February 2023 “While not right on the water, this place has a nice view from the deck. My friend and I got a seat right on the view side and got to see a gorgeous sunset. I got the poke nachos, and they were really good.” Elsie G., February 2023 “Food is AMAZING. We came two days in a row for breakfast lunch and dinner. We had Joseph for breakfast and he was incredible. He suggested great drinks and food for us. We had Destiny the next day and she was also a gem. And of course Joseph still took care of us even though he wasn’t our server. 10/10 recommend. Will be suggesting this place to all of our friends.” Courtney P., February 2023 “Love Lava! My husband and I spent our honeymoon in Kihei and were looking for a nice breakfast spot to start our mornings. So happy we stumbled upon Lava. $2 mimosas until 2PM and awesome food (Sunrise Burger if you need some help in the morning!) Staff is fun, attentive, and accommodating.” Brianna R., October 2022 “$2 mimosa’s with food! This is the best breakfast spot on Maui with the best breakfast happy hour! We originally were going to another breakfast spot near by but they had a very long line. Lava rock bar & grill was just opening at 8am and we were the second people in line, we were seated right away and the service was quick and friendly. We only got breakfast here, but it was so good that we came back two more times for breakfast! The staff and locals here are awesome, we made friends with one of the regulars and had a great time talking with the staff as well, an amazing group of people.” Miranda S., October 2022 “We went to the Lava Rock during our Honeymoon and we were incredibly impressed by the ambiance and food! When you walk in it feels like any other sports bar in America, but once you get to the outdoor seating that overlooks the beach in Kihei and get a taste of their food, it supersedes most of the restaurants we visited in Maui! Great food! Great service! Great prices! Had the fish tacos and the teriyaki bowl! Also who doesn’t love mimosas for $2 before 2:00 pm every day! Thanks for a great meal!” Khala, November 2021 “On our 10 day vacation in Maui during October 2021, we dined at this restaurant 3 times, once for breakfast and twice for dinner. When we went for breakfast, we were surprised that we we could get seated immediately at an ocean view table. The first time we ate dinner there, we didn’t have reservations and had to wait in line. We did get seated at the bar and had excellent service. We made reservations the second time we went for dinner and got seated immediately at an ocean view table. We were impressed with the view, food and service each time we were there. We would go there again when in Maui.” Nancy L., November 2021 “Tyler was fantastic! He took great care of us on our honeymoon. Food was amazing too. The Hawaiian eggs Benedict was delicious. Hands down would come here again.” Jake L., November 2021 “I prefer this place for breakfast than any other. Food is plentiful, affordable, and not a bunch of annoying tourists in the AM. And the staff is sooooooo nice I even made friends with one of them and told me of some good local spots.” Akemi F., October 2021 “We went to Lava Rock several times during our 5 day stay on Maui. We loved everything we ate and drank there. Our first experience was walking past a huge line for breakfast at another cafe in front of this place to sit down and be amazed with the bloody Mary’s and food at Lava Rock. You can also get $2 mimosas! The view from the balcony is great as well. Highly recommend this place while staying in Kihei!” Sunny T., September 2021 Happy Hour at Lava Rock Bar & Grill Maui is 3pm-6pm daily featuring discounted beer, cocktails, well drinks, appetizers, and burgers.

Want to make a comment or ask a question? Are you a fan of Lava Rock Maui? Tell us in the comments below.

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[shepherds-of-haven]

I hope you’re having a great day Lena! I was just wondering if we could have any fluff facts about the shepherds as a whole! Like fun tidbits of how they interact with each other, what some of them do if they have the same day off, does anyone host weekly game nights?? I hope that makes sense! Reading the recent short story on Patreon I love seeing how the characters interact with one another and now I need moreeeeeee🙏

Ooh, great question! I’m feeling curiously tapped dry at the moment, so I’ll probably have to reblog this as more ideas come to me; I’m so happy you’re enjoying the short story, btw!! 💖

Some group dynamic headcanons:

Many of them steal clothes from each other. Briony wears a cute sweater of Shery's (she asked), Ayla gets cold so she just takes one of Red's jackets from a chair (she didn't ask), Chase gives Tallys his scarf one day and Riel corders Trouble a pair of gloves from a fashion line he favors because his old ones are holey and they get into an argument about it... This leads to some recruits mistakenly thinking that the captains are all involved in some sort of mass relationship because they keep walking out of each other's rooms wearing each other's clothes. (The recruits believe a lot of really dumb stuff, if you couldn't tell. They LOVE gossip. It's like a competitive sport in the compound)

There is a weekly card game night, initiated and organized first by Chase, but it grows bigger over time, with snacks, cakes, drinks, and new games being procured! I'd actually say it's more like every ten-fourteen days or so than on any set weekday, and is typically proposed by anyone who senses that they or others need to blow off some steam. They all tend to meet in a private common room and either just chill and play some card games and casually drink and listen to music, or they get LOUD and raucous and play more risque non-card games (like Question or Command/Truth or Dare). The loud nights are more like once a month or bi-monthly, though! They take place in the captains' lounge so dumb recruits don't get to join! It's rare that they're in there all doing the same thing, though: maybe half will be at the table playing card games while others will be broken up into smaller groups, say arm-wrestling in the corner or playing chess at the smaller table or reading, but they're all there! Game nights are almost never held unless everyone is there, which is extraordinarily difficult to schedule, but they all make an effort to make it happen--even those who first had to be dragged into it, like Blade or Riel!

Speaking of chess games, Red and Riel have a standing game where they complete at least four more moves every night that they're around and able to meet up after dinner. Planning their next move helps them both break up the monotony of the day, and it's something they enjoy immensely. However, whenever he gets called away on a mission, Red gets sick with worry that Riel's been cooking up all sorts of schemes while he's been gone, so sometimes on the road he has, like, a schematic that he doodles on trying to anticipate Riel's next move, and it's very nerdy and ramps up in joking Anxiety. Riel, graciously, goes easier on him on nights after he comes back from long trips, though he denies it

Similarly, Blade and Trouble have a standing training session once a week where they just beat the crap out of each other. This is generally where they do the majority of their talking

Briony and Ayla first had an agreement that they would get the other one up if they overslept (Briony tends to be the one who oversleeps while Ayla is better about being up at dawn, but Ayla is really grouchy if she went to bed late and Briony is the only one who can handle her), which morphed into doing runs and sparring together at dawn and having breakfast frequently!

The girls have a standing spa night once a month where they all get together in a room (usually Shery’s) and basically do sleepover stuff and relax and chat and catch up for a few hours. This also sometimes involves showing each other new outfits that they bought that month! Sometimes there are even group baths in the big common bath, but these are rarer because Shery is shy and Tallys doesn’t like sitting in hot water getting pruny

Chase and Trouble drag Red and Halek to go drinking with them around once a month; sometimes Blade is persuaded to go if Trouble can get the drop on him and punch him hard enough to wind him. It’s complicated

Riel and Shery, of course, have tea together once a week! You’re not allowed if you can’t bring a chill vibe (Riel’s rules). Tallys, Lavinet, Halek, and Red are occasional visitors; Briony is allowed on a good day. Blade would be allowed but he has 0 interest

Similarly, Lavinet hosts a weekly brunch, either in a courtyard or at some restaurant in town! Typically it’s a girl thing and Ayla, Briony, and Shery are the most consistent attendees, but Chase has snuck his way in there often, and Riel, Halek, or Red pop up occasionally!

Tallys and Halek cook together! It’s not all that often and doesn’t seem to have any set way of materializing--it just happens somehow--but they both very much enjoy it! Sometimes they cook dinner for the whole group and have a little dinner party that they both secretly get excited for! Sometimes Shery bakes the dessert!

Riel noticed that Tallys has a little garden that she spends time weeding, so he sends gardening tools or special seeds when he thinks she needs them and she leaves baskets of vegetables or vases of flowers in his office. All of this is done without exchanging a word

Chase sporadically teaches Briony acrobatics and things like tightrope walking, just randomly whenever they’re both idle. She teaches him how to gut people with bare fists and also sometimes they paint! 

Caine caught Red grazing in the pantry late one night and now it’s like a Thing where they pass each other in the kitchen and Red sort of just looks the other way re: Caine’s bedtime and what on earth he’s doing up so late and Caine doesn’t tell anybody that Red is just absent-mindedly eating a loaf of bread at 2 AM because he was too busy working to remember to eat dinner. It’ll be like, “there’s some turkey leftover from dinner in the cold box” “oh hey, Caine. thanks. ...so, what’s the news from the midnight watch tonight?” “i’m going to go hunt ghosts on the seventh floor with my friends!” “...okay! have fun!”

Lavinet has a monthly shopping trip where she updates her wardrobe, and it is very common for others to accompany her around the city and just shop while they drop! Common partners are Shery, Briony, Riel, Chase, and once memorably Blade, who didn’t know what he was in for!

Trouble and Ayla are wildly competitive and keep arm-wrestling each other for money; this becomes a bi-weekly sporting event that is eagerly attended and bet upon by third parties

There was ONE group karaoke night. ONE. Most of them got so blackout drunk that they swore to never do it again. Even now, several of them go green whenever they hear a popular bar song (“Don’t Piss Where You Plant Your Flowers”) being sung, especially badly

The game of "telephone" gets really bad in their group. It's like, Shery will say to Briony that she's worried because she thought Riel looked a bit peaky and feverish. Briony will say in passing to Trouble that Riel is getting sick and Shery is worried. Trouble will say to Tallys that Shery is worried sick because Riel is bedridden. Tallys will be mixing herbs and Chase will ask what for and Tallys will reply that Riel is sick, but because she's mixing herbs, Chase will surmise that the sickness must be quite advanced, and will later say, "Damn, have you seen Riel? Seems like he's really sick." Red will interpret this as "I have seen Riel for myself and have determined that he's extremely ill." At least four people will bust into Riel's room, expecting him to be on the verge of death, despite the fact that they saw Riel that morning. Riel will be fine and very annoyed at the intrusion.

They rarely go out as a group to bars and establishments outside of the compound (too chaotic as well as risky, for one thing, and also, recruits don't need to see their superiors like hanging out of bushes and dancing on tabletops drunk out of their minds, and also, "Mages can't drink" (lol)), but when they do deem it a worthy occasion (Trouble's birthday, say), the girls are very punctual when getting ready, and the boys are almost always extremely late due to various shenanigans (Chase forgot that he put a booby trap on Red’s door, covering Red with flour, or a cat somehow slips into Trouble’s room and steals, like, a detonator or an important key, and they have to go chasing it across the city). This has led to the girls coming late on purpose in order to even out their arrival, but mysteriously, this has only led to even later start times, meaning they often don’t get started until like 10 or 11 PM when the most well-intentioned souls meant to be in bed by midnight... that never happens, either!

One such night once led to them ending up on a ridge in the Sun’s Embrace, like a mile outside of the city, in order to watch the sun rise together, because hiking in the dark while blasted out of their minds sounded like a really good idea. They all made it, and the dawn was spectacular, but the moment was ruined when Tallys said softly, “It’s the beginning of a beautiful new day--” punctuated by Trouble abruptly throwing up in a bush and Riel just flat-out passing out

[eponymous-rose]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E114-115 (Nov. 10, 2020)

My wi-fi’s gone distinctly shaky, so it must be that time again! I don’t think I’ve ever watched the pet montage with sound on, and the sheer majesty of Henry snoozing on a Nicolas Cage pillow is somehow ever better with a swelling orchestral score.

This episode’s guests are Liam O’Brien and Taliesin Jaffe!

Brian: “How’s everyone feeling?” Taliesin: “...god.”

There’s a brief discussion about sports. Liam and Taliesin agree that they like the cowboys. Not the Cowboys the sports team, just cowboys.

Taliesin, on episodes featuring him and Liam: “We have a dark sad energy that I think works well together.”

Brian leaps out of his chair. “My pants kind of match the wall!”

Also Brian: “You guys fuck with Barney?”

Okay, okay, okay. First question of the night at 7:09 PM. What was it like to find Vess dead? Liam had a lot of avenues of conversation he was planning with her and was disappointed to lose access to those. Taliesin notes that it’s ten days before they can talk to her again.

Another contemplative digression. Liam: “Google ‘fartiste’.” Lots of talk of sphincters.

Brian asks what it was like to see Molly committing such heinous acts. Taliesin: “I have a nice wall built because I understand the mechanism by which Molly is Molly, and knowing the mechanism, I understand what Matt’s doing. It’s only Molly so far. I always knew that whatever was going on in the background was sinister and a little bit iffy. And, you know, Molly was never actually against a little skullduggery. He’s not a moral person, just, you know. Situationally kind.” Taliesin genuinely isn’t sure how much Lucien knows about Molly’s life, but he looks forward to someday being able to talk about the initial conversation he and Matt had about Molly at a Starbucks by a tattoo parlor.

Brian wonders whether Vess’s death has made Caleb start thinking about how other Assembly members may not be all that untouchable after all. “It’s totally surreal and absurd to him. I still think of them as powerful, though. Story-wise, Caleb thinks of them as dangerous as fuck. All of them.” Getting to know Vess might have helped him figure out what to do next about Trent - now there’s even more uncertainty there.

On potentially having to explain Vess’s disappearance: “Clay’s just gonna peace out. By the time this becomes a problem, he feels this is not his problem. If there’s a good path to everyone working out, sure, but boy it don’t look like it right now.” Caleb’s “just in con-artist mode at the moment.” They’re both more focused on what’s going on at the moment.

“I will actually say, it wasn’t until halfway through that even I noticed [that Clay was being flirted with]. I really appreciate it, just because very, very early on, from the beginning, I was very much like, I’m just going to play him ace. He’s got no interest in this shit. All that energy gets directed into other places. I was like, it’s a shame that it will never come up organically.” He was pleased to have an excuse to bring it up in-game. He does note that because of the costumes “it was like being flirted with by Ganondorf.”

As soon as Laura was actively interested in reading Der Katzenprinz, Liam knew he wanted to put the whole book together. Taliesin: “I can barely take a walk every day. Who the fuck are you?” 

Cosplay of the Week: a fiery Caleb! (lilac.cos on Instagram, photo by fourphotoscosplay on Instagram)

Everyone’s a fan of Dagen Underthorn. Liam: “I love him because of how salt-of-the-earth he is. We’re a bunch of weirdoes.” Taliesin figures he’ll wait for the M9 outside the cave, but “three days, tops.”

“Clay’s seen a lot of things go down when people are mourning. This is a new one, so he’s definitely not sure what to do, and hasn’t really had an opportunity to be like: a little trepidation would be advised, because this could go really poorly, and you’re all a little weird about this. He’s assuming that Molly was another nice guy like the rest of these nice people, but after the Traveler he’s a little more wary of trusting his friends’ judgement on the character of others. It’s a lot like hearing about somebody’s ex and they’re like, oh, they’re coming to visit.”

Why was it so hard for Caleb to walk away from the necromantic emerald? “The first answer is that, Caleb, who is humble in many ways, is also cocky. I’m the best at it, I’m really good. One thread in Caleb’s personality is his hubris. The other answer to it is that Liam thought it was hilarious.” 

Taliesin: “I could’ve possibly stayed a little longer.” Brian: “How much longer?” Taliesin: “Until we had to resurrect someone.”

Brian asks what it was like to have a battle de-escalate to the point of “dinner and friendship”. Taliesin: “It’s been a hard year and I was tired. I don’t want to hurt anything for a while, I just want to have cocoa on graph paper.” Caleb invited the yetis in because “one, that’s amazing. But also they said they would escort us and be our bodyguards for a little bit.” He thought he could entice them to stick around longer, having plied them with cats and pastries.

On Caduceus getting to be a mammoth: “The same way that Caleb is a creature of hubris, Clay is a creature of self-control, and is really invested in his ability to maintain himself and to not get lost in the situation; even in a heightened situation, he’s still very much himself. This was uncomfortable. Eventually, with some hindsight, he’ll enjoy the notion, but at the moment, it’s definitely a lot of, that did not feel okay.”

Fan Art of the Week: the kitties in the kitchen! (kristen_felan on Instagram)

Why was it important to Caleb that Veth stop touting him as a leader? “It’s never really bothered him intensely, but it’s been a thing for a very long time. It wasn’t worth making a thing about it, but it was never true for him. He just doesn’t feel like a leader, he never did. He went from being an A-hole to one of the knights of the round table.”

Who does Clay think needs the most guidance? “Yasha. He’s feeling at least reasonable about everybody. He feels like Jester doesn’t quite have her shit together, but she’s fine, and Fjord’s doing just great. Everyone seems to be coming together. Yasha had a breakthrough but hasn’t really processed yet, so it’s a lot of, like, hey guy, so. You know. Now that we’re feeling more healthy, maybe it’s time to make some healthy decisions?” Liam suspects some of the characters will continue evolving even after the campaign is done. Taliesin: “Life doesn’t have an act structure.”

Taliesin: “I’m looking forward to playing the Tomb Takers after they TPK us.” Liam: “Dibs on Cree.”

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Hotel | Dream

Requested? Bruh of course not

Warnings? None?

Summary: You and your best friend Dream go on vacation together and end up admitting feelings

Word Count: 2,100

Last fic of me going off during April!! Hope y'all enjoy :)

“Charger?”

“Yup,” you say, tossing it into your purse.

“Your medicine? My medicine? Sunscreen? Money?” he lists off and you giggle as you nod.

“Yes we have everything,” you say giggling at your best friend.

You and Dream were headed to Hawaii for the first time together and you both were beyond excited. You had been planning this for months together, getting every tiny detail figured out. You had always wanted to travel together as best friends and when you both finally had enough money, you started to plan for Hawaii.

“Plane tickets?” you ask and Dream holds up the papers for you two.

You smile wide, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of your shared apartment. You head to the airport, talking excitedly about the trip and all of the things you were going to do when you get there.

“You know I’m gonna ask you to take a million pictures of me while we’re there right?” you ask as you sit down in your airplane seats.

“Can't wait for all the “who took the photo?!?” comments,” he jokes and you roll your eyes but smile nonetheless.

“Hey we can always take faceless photos of you on the beach,” you say and Dream shakes his head.

“No way.”

The plane ride is long, with ten hours of uncomfortable seats and gross airplane food but being with Dream makes the time fly and the company easy. You both start off with headphones in, trying to get some rest but soon enough you’re both restless.

Granted you weren’t doing well in the first place. Being near dream had your stomach in your shoes and your heart in your fingertips at all times. To be stuck on a plane for ten hours with him? You were surprised you hadn’t died from how fast your heart rate was going.

You were desperately trying to will yourself back to sleep, moving just barely to rest your head against the window. Just as you’re moving around, you feel a tap on your hand making you look over at Dream. You pull a headphone out and he gestures to the tiny tv screen in front of him.

“Wanna watch a movie?”

You nod and watch as Dream scrolls through the selection of movies, looking at you every once in a while when he stops on one he might want to watch. You end up on a random action movie, one you’ve probably watched with your dad on a Saturday morning, and Dream hands you the other headphone. Your hands brush as you take it from him, sending your heart through the roof of the plane at the contact.

As the movie drones on, you regain the tiredness you once pursued and let out a long yawn. Dream casts a glance at you, a soft smile placed on his lips as he watches your sleepy eyes blink slowly to stay awake.

“Come here,” he says quietly and you look up at him.

He lays his hand out flat on the armrest and you carefully slip your arm around his, before placing your hand in his. You lean over, placing your head on his shoulder and Dream reciprocates the action, resting his head on yours.

You swear you can feel your heartbeat pounding in your fingertips, worry flooding you that he’ll notice your nerves. However, when you risk a glance up at the blonde he’s half asleep, his eyes fluttered shut.

The rest of the plane ride feels quick, you and Dream both sleeping for the majority of it but by the time you land you’re happy to be able to get off the plane and stretch your legs. By the time you grab your things and are in the car on the way to the hotel, you swear you’re about to fall asleep again.

“Sleepyhead, we’re here,” Dream says, nudging you and you look up to see you’re rolling to a stop at the hotel.

You both get out of the car, grabbing your things, and heading inside. Because Hawaii was six hours behind Florida time, it was 10 am, when at home it would normally be 4 pm. You could feel the jet lag setting in, your body fighting against you as you and Dream checked into your hotel.

“And that’s the one king-sized bed for 4 nights?” the man at the service desk asks. The question wakes you up in seconds, your attention at the mixup.

“Wait it was supposed to be two queen-sized beds,” Dream corrects.

“I’m sorry sir, we only have this room,” the man says and Dream turns to look at you. You shrug your shoulders and Dream mimics the action.

“Okay.”

When you get to your room, sure enough, there’s only one bed in the center of the room, and you and Dream exchange glances at the sight of it. You try to brush off the awkwardness, making your way into the room before dropping your stuff and collapsing onto the comfortable mattress.

“Naptime,” you announce.

“No no no,” Dream says grabbing your hands and pulling you up until you’re sitting up straight.

“You have to beat the jet lag, it’s only 10 so let’s go get some breakfast, and then we can explore okay?”

You groan but let Dream pull you up anyway. You grab your purse, and the two of you head out for breakfast at the closest restaurant near you. As the two of you eat, you plan your first day here, deciding to explore the beaches, stores near you, and anything else that seems interesting.

You end up at an aquarium, one you had spotted on the way to the hotel, and head over. You had always loved aquariums since your dad had taken you to one close to your hometown growing up. You still fell in awe of them whenever you visited one.

“Come on!” you say grabbing Dream’s hand and dragging him behind you.

“Okay child,” he jokes and you roll your eyes.

You two make your way through the aquarium, unconsciously hand in hand with one another. You practically drag Dream along, placing your face up against the glass and point out fish and beautiful animals to the taller boy.

“See? It’s a clownfish,” you explain.

Dreams heart had been racing ever since you had entered the aquarium hand slipped into his without even thinking about it. He loved watching you walk through the attractions, eyes aglow with wonder and face lit up like a kid on Christmas. It made him fall for you more than he already had.

He leans forward moving your once connected hands so that he can slip an arm around your shoulder, his head falling next to yours until you’re practically cheek to cheek.

“It’s pretty,” he says and you forget to respond, the closeness of your best friend making you dizzy.

You settle for a nod, and the two of you start to move again, Dream’s arm staying around your shoulders and you slip one around his waist. You make your way around the rest of the place, your hearts unknowingly beating at the same fast rhythm but both of you find comfort in the nerves.

“Where to next?” you ask Dream when you finish the aquarium.

You two end up going for a drive, just wanting to explore the island for a bit before making your way back, occasionally stopping at a store or two to see what’s inside. You finally make it back to the hotel to change before heading out to a nice dinner together.

As you walk out of the bathroom, clad in a nice dress, wedges, and your purse thrown over your shoulder, this time you don’t miss the dumbstruck look Dream is giving you. However, you swear you mimic his expression, the blonde dressed in a white button-down, dress pants, and dress shoes.

“Holy shit,” you whisper.

“Fuck,” he breathes out.

Upon hearing each other’s voices, you snap out of your dazed states, offering a sheepish smile to Dream before walking out of the open door. Dream follows you out, the two of quiet as you head to the restaurant together.

“Do you mind if I?” you question pointing to the drinks another couple holds and Dream shakes his head.

“No, go for it. If anything happens you know I’ll take care of you,” he responds making your heart swell.

You knew Dream didn’t drink and you would never pressure him to. However, your nerves were getting the best of you and the drinks on the menu were tempting. You order one, taking a sip of the concoction of alcohol and letting it soothe some of the nerves you were facing.

As dinner progresses, you and Dream talk about the rest of vacation, what else you wanted to do before you left, what other restaurants you wanted to try, already where you were planning to take Instagram photos, etc. You couldn’t help feeling less and less nervous but you weren’t sure if it was the drinks or Dream’s easy presence in front of you.

You don’t realize how many you had ordered until you stand up, the room spinning around you. You reach out, Dream taking your hand with a concerned look on his face and when you gain your bearings you smile dorkily at the taller boy.

“Okay let’s get you back to the room,” he says and wraps an arm around your waist to steady you.

You make it back to the hotel room, your hands intertwined with Dream, your best friend not opposed to your love language increasing when you’re drunk. You make it up to the hotel room with little struggle and in your drunken state, you decide you want to dance.

“Dream,” you whine, and the blonde smiles at you.

“Yes, darling?”

“Come dance with me,” you say, holding your hands out to him.

Dream laughs but lets you take his hands in yours anyway. You slip your arms around his neck, and he wraps one arm around your waist before reaching for his phone. He messes with something on there for a minute before music floods the tiny room. He places his phone down on the TV stand before wrapping his other arm around your waist.

The two of you sway slowly around the room, you becoming increasingly more sober the more you think about Dream, his hands on you, the proximity of the two of you, the sweet gestures and words from the day, everything.

Dream wasn’t far behind you, absolutely mesmerized by the sight of you. Your lips curved into a small smile as you looked up at him. The way you were yourself around him with no apologies and how he wanted to hold you, love you, and protect you forever.

You both don’t realize how close you are and getting until you're centimeters away. The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Without a second thought in his head, Dream ducks down, pressing a kiss to your lips. The contact knocks you sober instantly, you pull Dream as close as possible and you can practically feel your best friend smile into the kiss.

When you pull apart, you’re both grinning like idiots at each other. The music still plays in the background as you get changed, dance a little more, and ultimately fall asleep together.

The rest of vacation flies by, beaches and shopping, restaurants, cute dates, everything made a thousand times better now that the two of you had admitted your feelings for one another. By the time you land back in Florida, you can’t tell if you’re happy to be home, sad to be away from vacation, or nervous about what was going to happen between you and Dream now.

As you get off the plane, Dream slips an arm around your shoulders and your thoughts of doubt only seem to increase for some reason.

“Hey,” you say gaining his attention. You stop in front of him, your hands twisting nervously in front of you as you try to ask your next question.

“Are we still,” you trail off gesturing between the two of you. “Now that we’re home.”

Dream doesn’t answer, simply wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in. He dips down pressing a long kiss to your lips that has you falling for him all over again.

“Does that answer your question?” he asks pulling inches away.

You nod, smiling widely before leaning up to place your lips on Dream’s again in a kiss that makes your stomach do backflips.

[umichenginabroad]

Stockholm Week 5: Late Nights and Long Naps

Hej hej! This week was the longest week for me. It was less going out and more cooking than other weeks because I stayed in my room for a substantial period. I had multiple very late nights due to assignments, but hopefully it’ll get better soon :) 

2/12 Mon: Nap #1

I went on another ICA trip to see what groceries to buy. We ate almost everything in our fridge before Core Course Week and did not have anything to eat. 

I used the pre-made Thai curry sauce for lunch. 

Unfortunately, it was too coconut-y for me but my roommate liked it so it canceled out

A severe food coma hit me and my supposed 20-minute nap turned into a 3-hour nap… XoX

For the rest of the night, I focused on doing homework for my online Reactions class for my major. It was due on Valentine's Day (Professor quote-on-quote said the homework is due on Valentine’s Day but you are chemical engineers so you don’t have anything to do anyway, right?). I ended up sleeping at 4 am ;-;

2/13 Tue: The Chestnut Man

Snow covered Stockholm overnight. 

Subway view on my way to DIS building 

I was happy to see the snow again but nervous that I’d finally slip on the ice this time. I haven’t slipped yet and I want to keep it that way for the entire semester! 

In Crime Fiction class (my favorite so far), we watched episode 2 of the Netflix series The Chestnut Man. I recommend it to anyone who likes mystery and thrillers like me. Swedish culture is well integrated as the main theme of the series. The music and production of the film were spectacular in creating tension. 

There is some gore in it, but if you don’t like it you can cover your eyes for a bit. I’m a big scaredy cat myself so if I can manage it, then you can too. 

After classes, time flew by. It was 2 pm when I came back from another ICA run, 3 pm when I put in the laundry and cooked lunch, and 4:30 pm when I finished lunch and laundry. Day after day I am discovering how much time is needed for housework. 

I loved these heart-shaped containers - they really know how to sell things 

2/14 Wed: Swedish History Museum with Galentines on Top

My Swedish class had the first field trip to the Swedish History Museum, historiska museet. There were various exhibitions ranging from the Gold Room to the Viking World. 

We had fika before going around the exhibitions and this was a Valentine's Day-themed semla. Isn’t it so cute <3 

I also took part in raising the Valentine’s Day spirit by weaving a heart

I focused on the Prehistories exhibition with my assigned group. With some time left over, I ran to the Gold Room to see 52 kg of gold with my own eyes. I was fascinated by the intricacy of the handmade gold and silver accessories from hundreds and even thousands of years ago. 

We had a heated debate on what this is. At first, I thought it was a detachable crown but when I searched it up it was an agate bowl reliquary

When the museum visit ended at 12:30 pm, I headed back towards DIS for lunch. My friend and I went to Matchaya again.

Unadon and miso-based ramen were both good and fulfilling :)

As we always do, we had a tremendous amount of work to do (I don’t know why). Since only a couple of cafes stay open until the evenings, we went back to the DIS building to do work. She introduced me to reservable study rooms and we were surprisingly productive there. It definitely won’t be the last time I’m studying there. 

But of course, I gave in to a food coma and took a brief nap 

Three hours of intense studying passed and we managed to get back to our apartment for dinner. I did more homework until 10 pm when our friends gathered in our room to have a little Galentines party. We had a fun time talking and watching Pretty Woman. 

The aftermath, sugar rush, was the only bad thing 

2/15 Thu: The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo

I had a lazy morning thanks to my morning class getting canceled. After the three-hour core course, I came back home to meal prep for the next day.

My homework for Friday was to finish reading The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo for the Scandinavian Crime Fiction class. It turns out I really underestimated how long it’s going to take me to finish the book. I ended up finishing the book at 4 am. It was definitely not a quick read, but the storyline and the plot twists made it a very interesting read. I highly recommend it! 

2/16 Fri: Sandwich, French Toast, and Churros

When I came back home from school, I quickly made a sandwich so that I could take a nap asap. I knew I was going to have a big nap but did not know it’d be four hours. 

I am getting better at cooking. Can you tell?!

I woke up at 7:30 pm and some of my friends had gone to Gamla Stan to buy churros. A friend invited me to try her fried rice for dinner so I made French toast for her in return. 

By far the best French toast I made! 

I slept late again though, doing homework. As exams and papers and projects approach me, it is getting harder for me to let go/lower/put down pressure to get good grades. It’s my main area of improvement that I have to work more on. 

2/17 Sat: Guided Tour of Gripsholm

I got off the waitlist for a DIS-hosted guided tour of the 14th-century Swedish castle, Gripsholm! It is a castle owned by the Swedish Royal Family that is around 50 minutes away from Stockholm by bus. According to the guide, it was first built as a fortress but later turned into the royal court’s place of residence. Now, it serves as a museum open to the public. 

Touring the gigantic castle for 1.5 hours knocked out everyone on the bus ride home

On the way back to my apartment, I was craving sweets so I checked the app TooGoodToGo. It has a list of participating restaurants and bakeries that sell leftovers of the day for cheap prices. Customers like me can buy random surprise bags and sellers do not have to throw away food in perfectly fine conditions. 

I found a bakery in my subway station selling a cake for $9, so I gave it a try. I thought I’d get multiple cake pieces but no; I got an entire cake for $9! A couple was running the store and even gave me a chance to choose the type of cake I wanted. They suggested the chocolate cake so that’s what I ended up picking. After a small talk, they even offered me a Semla to take home :) 

The chocolate cake was really good; it was not too sweet, just as how I like it to be

For the rest of the night, I worked on this blog and studied for my online test on Sunday. 

2/18 Sun: Grind Grind Grind

Guess what! I pushed back my test to Wednesday.

I studied the whole day today (like 10 hours) but did not reach the point I wanted to be at with my knowledge. I knew that taking the test without being fully prepared was going to bother me so I gave up trying to finish it this weekend. 

I will update you all with more interesting events next week! Sneak peek - I am traveling to London over the weekend to meet my beloved UMich friends who are on their spring break <3

Thank you for reading this long long blog! Hope to see you again :) 

Tack så mycket, 

Jiwoo Kim 

Chemical Engineering

DIS Study Abroad in Stockholm, Sweden

[the-bau-quinjet]

Next Time

Peter Parker x Rogers!reader

Summary: You and Peter make plans for "next time", not realizing just how quickly they would happen.

Warnings: none! Just fluff :)

Word Count: 3504

a/n: My first real Peter fic! So this is a sort of sequel to 16 hours isn't enough. I was just feeling inspired, but this focuses more on the readers relationship with Peter! You don't have to read the first part to understand this one.

Masterlist

“I’m gonna go out with Ned and MJ tomorrow, celebrate our day off. Do you wanna come?” You and Peter had just gotten back from patrolling, and it was already 2 am. He's hopeful that you'll want to spend more time with him, but given the guilty look on your face, he doesn't think your answer is going to be positive.

“I would love to, but I need to sleep for at least 15 hours. Maybe I can come next time? If we ever have another day off.” He can't help but laugh, completely understanding the feeling.

“Trust me, I get it. Next time works. Add in a 16th hour, you deserve it.” He smiles at your yawn, thinking about how cute you look when you're tired.

“Thanks Pete.” You both laugh when you yawn again. “16 hours might not even be enough.” He relishes in the feeling of your hug before heading to the elevator.

He decided to head back to Queens tonight so he could sleep in a little longer. He can definitely relate to your need for sleep, being a teenage avenger is an exhausting schedule to maintain.

-

The next morning, nearly afternoon, Peter finally gets out of bed. Having slept for 8 hours, he definitely understands what you were saying last night.

Still, he's a little bummed he won't be seeing you today. He gets ready anyway, texting MJ and Ned. The three of them decide to go to Delmar's for lunch and wing it from there.

After ordering their usual sandwiches, the trio heads outside to eat.

"I thought you were going to invite Y/N?" MJ starts the interrogation as soon as the three have sat down.

"I did, but she was exhausted, said she was going to sleep all day." He's bummed again at not seeing you, but he still understands.

"Oh man, I'm sorry dude." Ned responds, feeling bad for his friend.

"It's fine. I get it. I definitely could have slept for another 8 hours." Peter shrugs it off, not wanting to dwell on it.

"What should we do now?" Ned poses the question, looking at his friends.

"I don't know. Something fun though, I never have free time anymore." Peter complains, although his friends can tell he's mostly joking.

"I haven't been to Coney Island in a while. What if we go ride all the rides and make fun of the scaredy cats?" MJ suggests.

The two boys agree, finishing up their sandwiches and heading to the subway.

After a horrendous 2 hour subway ride, the three teens finally arrive at the theme park.

MJ drags the two of them from ride to ride, excitedly- but subtly- pointing out the strangers who look like they're going to puke.

Peter does his best not to think about you while he's there. He can't help but remember all the times you told him about going to Coney Island with your dad though. You absolutely loved your father daughter days.

"Dude, isn't that Y/N?" Ned smacks Peter on the shoulder, pointing toward the line for the slingshot ride.

"I thought you said she was sleeping all day..." MJ worriedly looks toward where Ned's pointing.

"Um, yeah. That's what she told me. It probably just looks like her." Peter doesn't want to turn around. He doesn't want to know.

"No, dude. That's definitely her." Ned keeps gawking, trying to get Peter to look. "Why is she with Captain America?"

Peter perks up at that, understanding what must have happened. "He's here too? He was supposed to be on a mission until Tuesday!" He finally turns around, easily spotting you and your dad in line for the ride.

He can't help but stare at how beautiful you are. His smile grows as he takes in your tired, but excited expression.

"Um, care to share your findings with the group?" MJ shoves his arm, trying to get his attention back.

"Huh? Oh! Right." Peter laughs at himself. "He wasn't supposed to be back until Tuesday, they must be having a father daughter day. She told me how they used to always go to Coney Island as an escape from the superhero life." Peter grins, remembering the first time you told him about missing spending time with your dad. He's happy you're finally getting just that.

"What?! Why didn't you tell us she was Captain America's daughter? That's so cool!" Ned finally turns back, staring wide eyed at Peter.

"I introduced her as Y/N Rogers... I kind of thought it was implied." Peter looks back and forth between his friends. It's clear MJ knew, but Ned is genuinely surprised.

"I'm honestly not even surprised you didn't put that together Ned." MJ shakes her head at the boy. "Now, what should we get for dinner?"

"Ohh, hot dogs! It's a Coney Island classic!" And just like that Ned's attention has been diverted. Peter can't help but steal one more glance at you.

You're clearly having a good time. It looks like you've finally convinced Steve to go on the slingshot if the cautious smile on his face means anything. He watches as you jump up and down, hugging your dad with a big bear hug.

He smiles at how happy you are before turning and following his friends to the hot dog stand.

-

Peter didn't see you at all on Sunday. Normally, the two of you would at least do some homework together, but you hadn't responded to any of his texts.

Around 10 pm, his phone finally dings indicating two new texts from you.

I'm so sorry! I slept so late today, I panicked and forced Tony to help me with my homework so I could get it done faster.

Did you get yours done? I can try to help you :)

haha, I thought you were going to sleep all day yesterday? And, yeah I got mine done. Thanks for the offer though! 😄

I was definitely planning to sleep all day. My dad got back early and surprised me with a father daughter day though. I didn't have the heart to tell him I was exhausted. 😴 I powered through a full day of hot dogs, amusement park rides, McDonald's, and a movie 😊

He was about to respond when another text came through.

Okay, admittedly I fell asleep halfway through the movie... but still

Honestly, Peter was glad to hear the confirmation that you hadn't lied to him. He didn't think you would, but it still calmed any unnecessary anxiety to know exactly what happened.

Well, I'm glad you got caught up on sleep today then. I actually was at Coney Island on Saturday too, what a crazy coincidence 😂

Peter...

Did you see me at Coney Island?

Damn, you know me too well... I did, but I saw your dad too so I figured you were having a father daughter day!

I just didn't want to sound creepy... 😳

Not creepy, just a coincidence...

we should go together sometime 😊

Peter nearly dropped his phone when the second text came through. Were you asking him out? Was it just a friend thing? Shit, he really needs to respond.

For sure!

Peter can't help but think he sounds like an idiot. "For sure?" Who says that?!

I mean, that would be great. Our next day off?

For sure! 😉

Oh god. He was definitely in for it now.

-

Yours and Peters next day off came a lot faster than he expected. Normally, you would go months without a whole day off.

Maybe Steve was worried about you, or maybe it was Tony. Maybe it was just a lack of bad guys, but not even two weeks later you were both given a day off.

"So, do you still want to go to Coney Island?" You were nervous to be asking Peter about your conversation a few weeks ago, but you wanted to spend time with him.

"Yeah, definitely! You'll have to show me all your favorite rides." he smiled, glad you brought it up so he wouldn't have to. "I can pick you up tomorrow at 8?"

"Sounds perfect. Not too early, but still early enough to get there before the crowds." You smiled. If he wanted to pick you up, maybe he thought it was a date...

You hugged him, lingering a little more than usual in his arms. "i'll see you tomorrow, Pete."

He blushed at the nickname, as usual. "Goodnight, Y/N."

The two of you went your separate ways, each freaking out about what the other was thinking.

-

The next morning, you were pacing around the kitchen in the compound, freaking out. You didn't want to make a fool out of yourself on this maybe date.

"Morning, sweet pea. What's on your mind?" Your dad walked in, getting ready to make his post-run smoothie. One look at your frazzled pacing, and he knew something was up.

You froze instantly. You hadn't even thought about telling your dad. "Oh, um... nothing?" You winced, knowing hoe unconving that was.

Steve laughed, even more intrigued now. "Come on, you can tell me. What's going on?"

"Well... I maybe have a date today..." You said the words slowly, unsure of how he would react. You hadn't talked to your dad much about dating.

His first question surprised you. "Maybe?"

You breathed a sigh of relief, glad he didn't immediately freak out. Unbeknownst to you, on the inside he was screaming.

"Well, yeah. I don't know if it's a date or not." Your nerves were back, displayed by your continued pacing.

"Do you want it to be a date?" Again, his question was calmer than you anticipated.

You didn't even need to think about your answer. "I do, but I don't know if he does. That's why it's a maybe."

He nodded, seeming to think about your predicament. "Nat! Can you come in here for a minute?"

You froze again, unprepared to share your maybe date plans with another Avenger.

"What's up, Cap?" She smiled at you, clearly having an idea as to what this could be about.

"Y/N maybe has a date." Her smile grew, clearly her idea was on the right track.

"Maybe, huh?" She turned back to Steve, trying to figure out why exactly he needed her help.

"Yeah, so can you help us figure out if it's an actual date?" You smiled at your dad, surprised but thankful for his actions.

"Of course! Tell me everything, how did you plan it?" She sat down at the island, listening intently as you explained your text conversation with Peter that day, leaving out only the fact that it was Peter.

You went on to describe the conversation you had with him yesterday, again leaving Peter's name out of it.

"Well, from what you described I can definitely see why you're confused. You've been friends with this guy for awhile?"

You nodded, even more nervous to hear your confusion is justified. She nodded to herself, seemingly pondering all the information that was presented.

"I think it's a date." You froze for the third time, unsure if that made your nerves better or worse. "But, you'll know for sure when he picks you up. If it's just a friend thing, he'll probably wear what he always wears. If he thinks it's a date, he'll probably dress a little nicer. He'll want to impress you." She winked as she rose from her chair.

"Thank you!" You rushed around the island, pulling her into a hug. Now you've at least got a plan as to how to figure out if this is a date or not.

"No problem, kiddo. I'm happy to help with girl stuff." She winked at Steve, heading out of the kitchen.

"So, you gonna tell me who this maybe date is with?" There's the questions you were expecting.

Before you could even think of a response, the doorbell rang. "Gotta go, love you!" You planted a kiss on his cheek, rushing out of the room before he could question you.

As you ran out, Tony wondered in just in time to hear Steve ask "Friday, who just rang the doorbell?"

"Mr. Parker, Captain."

Steve nearly choked on his smoothie.

"What's that about, Capsicle?" Tony asked, taken by surprise at the man's reaction.

"Peter Parker is taking my daughter on a maybe date." He said it with a sense of caution, unsure how to feel. To his joy, Tony nearly choked on the water he was drinking.

-

You were nervous to open the door, but excited to test Nat's theory. It made sense when you thought about it. you yourself dressed a little nicer than normal for your day with Peter.

Instead of jeans and a tee, you opted for a colorful t-shirt dress. It was still casual, and comfortable enough for a day at a theme park, but nicer than normal.

You flung the door open, immediately pulling Peter in for a hug. "Hi!" You were slightly out of breath from running from the kitchen, but Peter didn't say anything about it.

"You look really pretty." Peter blushed, squeezing you tightly.

"Thank you. You look very handsome." You couldn't stop the smile from growing as you took in his outfit. He had on a pair of khakis and a long sleeve button up. He still looked casual, but definitely nicer than normal.

"Thanks. You ready to go?" He held his arm out when you nodded, guiding you to the car when you took it.

You didn't know what to expect on the car ride, so you were pleasantly surprised when Peter put on some music. A few songs in, you recognized it as a playlist you made him of your favorite songs. Your heart melted a bit at the realization.

When you arrived at the park, Peter rushed to open your door for you. It was a tradition you never understood, but you blushed anyway, accepting his hand as you rose from the seat.

"What do you want to do first?" He lead you toward the entrance with a hand on your back, again taking you by surprise.

"Oh, well it makes the most sense to do the big rides first, before the lines get too long!" You were instantly in planning mode, creating the best route for you to get on all the best rides.

You eagerly pulled Peter through the park, holding his hand to guide him. It wasn't uncommon for you to grab his hand and drag him somewhere, but you felt a little bolder today. When you got to the first line, you intertwined your fingers, continuing to hold his hand as you waited.

The next few rides went the same way. You pulled Peter from one roller coaster to the next until lunch time.

"Do you want to get some lunch?" He intertwined your hands this time, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

"Sure! Let's go to Paul's Daughter, yeah? Dad and I had hot dogs last time." You scrunched up your face at the idea of eating more hot dogs.

Peter couldn't stop the smile from growing on his face as he took in your adorable expression. "I had hot dogs last time too."

The two of you just stared at each other smiling until someone bumped into trying to get around the boardwalk.

You laughed, squeezing his hand. The two of you strolled down the boardwalk until you made it to the restaurant.

You happily ate your burgers and fries, talking about anything and everything that came up.

After eating, you continued to walk along the boardwalk, giving yourself time to digest before doing anything else.

"Did you want to go to the arcade area?" Peter questioned, trying to make sure you did everything you wanted.

"Sure, we can play some games! Fair warning, I've had lots of practice. You can't get mad if I beat you." You couldn't help but tease him a bit.

"Darling, you wound me." He playfully slaps his hands over his heart, giving you his best puppy eyes. "Did you forget about my spidey senses?"

You laugh alongside him at his antics, genuinely having fun with him. All of your earlier nerves seem so unnecessary as you stare at his smiling face.

"Yeah, yeah spider boy. Let's see what you can do."

Unsurprisingly, Peter beat you at nearly every game you played. You might be a force to reckon with in hand to hand, but when it comes to throwing rings at bottles, he's got you beat.

True to every rom com ever made, Peter wins you a giant blue elephant. You're not even annoyed at losing, having experienced it over and over with your dad.

It's going on 8 pm when you finally finish playing games. You gave most of the prizes to little kids you passed, only keeping the elephant. You wanted something to remember this day by.

"Is there anything else you want to do?" You smile at Peter, letting him decide your final activity.

"I've always wanted to ride the ferris wheel..." He answered honestly, leaving out the part about kissing you at the top.

"Then ride the ferris wheel we shall!" He laughed at your over the top expression, smiling as you again dragged him by his hand.

The two of you slid into the last open seat on the ride, sitting next to each other with the elephant across from you.

You gleefully looked out over the park, smiling and pointing at all the lights.

"We never stayed this late when I was younger. I was always so tired, so we'd leave and get McDonald's on the way home." You smiled as you remembered countless father daughter days. "The lights look so pretty."

"Absolutely breathtaking." Peter whispers, not having taken his eyes of you for the duration of the ride. When the ride stops, the two of you are at the very top.

A slight breeze cause you to shiver, leaning into Peter for warmth. He puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

His other hand reaches up to brush your hair out of your face, and just like that you can barely breathe. His hand lingers on your cheek, eyes roaming your face.

You both lean a little closer, ready to take this next step when the ride jerks, causing each of you to jump back in shock. You lean your head on his shoulder for the duration of the ride, cursing the bad timing.

When you get off the ferris wheel, Peter guides you back to the car. Again, you're half expecting the ride to be a little awkward, but Peter doesn't let it happen.

The two of you continue talking about life, reminiscing on stories from when you were younger. Before you know it, your back at the compound.

Again, Peter gets out to open your door, taking the chivalry thing very seriously. He walks you to the door, painfully aware of your almost kiss on the ferris wheel.

"I had a really good time today, Pete. Thank you." You lean in, kissing him ever so lightly on the cheek.

You purposefully linger close to his face, willing him to give you a sign that he's on the same page.

His hands frame your face as he pulls you in for a kiss. You melt into each other, eagerly reciprocating the kiss until you need to pull away for air.

"Goodnight, Y/N." Peter whispers, his face still only millimeters from yours.

"Goodnight, Peter." You whisper back, planting a final quick kiss on his lips before going inside.

You lean back against the door, relishing in the feeling of his lips on yours. Eventually, you walk through the compound, heading for the elevators.

Unsurprisingly, Natasha, Tony, and your dad are all sitting in the common room you have to pass through.

Before you can ever utter a greeting, your dad is talking. "Parker, really?" Your not surprised that he figured it out, he probably just asked Friday. You are surprised at his tone of voice though. It almost sounds approving.

"Yeah..." Your answer is cautious, unsure of where this is going.

"I'm happy for you sweet pea, he's a good kid." You hug your dad, glad to know he's not going to ban you from seeing him. You wouldn't have expected him to react so drastically, but you’re still surprised by the calmness.

"Thanks, dad. I love you."

"I love you too." He rubs your back until you pull away, ready to head to bed.

Before you can leave the room, Nat asks the question all three adults have been wondering. "What's the verdict? Date or not a date?"

You were nearly out of the room when she asked, looking over your shoulder when you reach the doorway. Your face betrays the answer before your voice does, wearing a small, but loving smile. You involuntarily squeeze the elephant closer, hugging the giant stuffed animal closer to your body.

"Definitely a date."

[unsaidholland]

no shame | t. holland

no one bully me i have never written a mob!tom fic before but i’m v proud of this! here is the newest installment of the calm series :) this is also like 6.3k words so i apologize in advance if the app glitches LMAO

warnings: violence, swearing, kidnapping, mentions of sex

the hollands were the talk of the town. their mob had owned most of southern england and were on the rise. they were gaining territory faster than any of the other mobs in the uk, and everyone feared them. no one knew how they were quickly taking over the country, but everyone knew not to stand in their way.

you had first come across them at a pub you were at for dinner with your friend. celebrating at a pub wasn’t new to either of you, but the occasion was. you had gotten promoted at work, something that had been completely unexpected. you didn’t think that you were doing anything extraordinary, but somehow your boss did. 

it was that night when you met tom, who had been gazing at you from the other side of the pub. he had been entranced by you, odd seeing as he was in the mafia and had a cold heart, but something led him to you as if there was an invisible string tying him to you. 

by the time the clock struck 10 pm, you and your friend decided to get ready to leave. seeing as this was tom’s only chance, he got up and walked across the room towards you and your friend, immediately striking a conversation with you. it wasn’t until the room went absolutely silent when you realized who he was, but that didn’t stop you. 

three months later, your and tom’s relationship had grown to something more than friends. tom calling you pet names occurred more often than not, and you often spent nights at his place. tom wouldn’t admit it, but he was sure he would die for you if he needed to. tom didn’t know that meant he loved you.

it was another one of those nights where he had invited you over to his grand mansion. you practically lived there with how much time you spent there. you knew all the staff, and they all recognized you. you were never there whenever tom had meetings though, that was where he drew the line. it was one thing for you to know about what he does, but it was another thing for his men to know about you. they knew tom was seeing someone, but no one other than tom’s family and close friends knew your identity, to everyone else you were a mystery, and you wouldn’t change it.

as the two of you laid in his grand king-sized bed in his bedroom, you looked up at him and studied his face. you were constantly scared that one day he wouldn’t come back to you, but you knew he would do everything in his power to do so. the duvet laid gently atop both of your legs and the moonlight cast a glow over tom. his job wasn’t holy, but he was an angel to you. through hell or high water, you would be there for him, but admitting that you were so in love with him scared you. it had only been three months and the three words hadn’t been said yet, but you felt that four-letter word. you loved tom, nothing could deny that, but admitting was harder than it seemed.

being romantically involved with a mob boss definitely was not something you expected, but falling in love with someone whose job was so dangerous was worse. knowing that you were in love with tom was one thing, but admitting it? that was a whole other ballpark. 

• • • 

tom had come back from an emergency meeting to see you already asleep in bed. seeing you so peacefully at rest made his heart swell, completely ignoring the many death threats he had given his men just minutes prior. tom was serious when it came to his work, and when someone messed up, he would make them directly report to him. it was never pretty, but it was work, and tom knew that to keep his status and his power in the mafia, he had to do and say things he hoped you would never have to experience, though he would admit that he thought it turned him on thinking about you ordering his men around.

he knew his job was terrifying, but it was the hand he was dealt and tom would do anything and everything just to protect you. 

tom undressed from the expensive suit he was wearing. saint laurent he thought it was, but it didn’t matter because whatever brand it was, it cost a fortune to some, but to him it was nothing. as he was taking off his rolex and setting it on the dresser, he heard your phone go off. a text was what it was, and he walked over to the nightstand on your side of the bed to read it. he wasn’t snooping, just intrigued. there were no secrets between you two, or at least tom thought so until he read the message sitting at the top of your notifications.

‘just tell him you love him, it won’t kill you.’

maybe he shouldn’t have checked the text on your phone, but seeing nala’s message made him wonder why you were so scared to confess your feelings for him. he laid in bed, your sleeping figure next to him, wondering where the two of you stood. he loved you. sure, he never said it but he always tried to make it known. tom would die for you if it meant you were safe, wasn’t that love?

he walked over to his side of the bed, lifting the navy duvet up and over his body after laying down. you unconsciously moved towards tom, cuddling into his side. he couldn’t help but press a kiss to your forehead, and he swore he had never been more in love. his eyes shut and his mind drifted off to sleep, but not before thinking about the ten words he had read. 

• • • 

when tom woke up in the morning, you were still asleep. he tried going back to bed, it was sunday and he was off. he had made it a priority to keep sunday’s for two things only - the lord, and his loved ones. he wasn’t religious, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to heaven with the shit he’s done, but it was nice for him to hope that somehow there was a way for him to spend eternity with someone as perfect and innocent as you. again, he wasn’t religious, but church and sunday lunch had become a holland family tradition, and who was he to break it? it kept the normality in his life, and for one day out of the seven, he could feel like he hadn’t - allegedly - murdered many people. tom would never have a normal life, not while he’s a mafia boss, but sunday’s always satisfied his craving. 

he grabbed his phone, texting his family confirming that they were coming over to his place for lunch. it had been a routine, and even though he knew the answer, he still did it anyway. tom then put it down and went back to cuddling you. you curled up into his side, seeking out the warmth of his body, and he eagerly wrapped an arm around you, wanting to be closer. tom couldn’t stop thinking about you. he knew you were his forever, but only if you would say yes. he would do anything for you, and maybe that was because his job was so dangerous, but if you asked him to leave the mafia he was sure he would do it, but only for you.

without even noticing, tom had fallen asleep again. the feeling of you in his arms was enough for him to let his guard down and relax. you had woken him up by pushing stray curls that had fallen down onto his forehead, off towards the side of his head.

“sorry, did i wake you?” you asked, and tom’s lips curved up into a smile.

“no, i woke up earlier but fell back asleep.” you leaned in for a kiss, despite both of you having morning breath, his lips met yours for a chaste kiss. your head fell down so it was resting on his shoulder, buried in the crook of his neck.

“it’s already nine tommy, we should get up now,” you mumbled against his skin. the vibrations sent small sparks off on tom’s skin. that in combination with the nickname you had given him early on into the relationship would one day be the death of him, he was sure of it.

“just a little longer darling.” his fingers danced around the small of your back, dragging up and down the side of your torso as if he was trying to memorize every dip and curve of your body. his fingers then came up to move your hair from out of your face, just as you had done to him prior. 

“i love you, you know that?” he asked. it was the first time he was saying it aloud, but he felt it with every fibre of his being and he needed you to know. you immediately tensed up against him at the sound of his words. “darling? what’s wrong?” you were silent and tom immediatly knew that the words he had read just hours prior had been a response to your fear. you had sat up and moved over so you were on your side of the bed. if the sheets were states, you would have been miles away, and tom wondered what it was that made you so scared to hear those three words.

“don’t say that,” you murmured. your eyes were cast down to your hands, suddenly finding the milky white polish on your nails the most interesting thing on the planet.

“why are you so scared of me loving you?” tom asked, voice soft and quiet. he didn’t want to push you, and sure it had only been three months, but he was sure that you felt the same way too. why else would you stay in a relationship with someone who was - again, allegedly - a murderer. 

tom watched as you sat there, picking at the nail polish that had already chipped. he tried to read your body language, but he didn’t need to. he knew that being in love with someone like him whose job was so dangerous that anyone and anything could be used as collateral. 

the silence lingered longer than tom had patience for, but he stayed calm knowing you would come around eventually. your thumbs were rid of the nail polish that you had went to the salon for just a week prior, and tom knew that your other fingers were next. he watched as your eyebrows furrowed, only to relax seconds later. he watched as your bottom lip got chewed on, something you did when you were deep in thought or nervous, but in this case, both.

“baby.” tom’s voice was softer than it was when he was talking to tessa. he would have killed any of his men who heard him like this, but just seeing you absolutely terrified immediately caused him to act. his hand came up to cup your face so you were looking at him. though you wouldn’t make eye contact, it was still something. tom knew your eyes were looking at the wall behind him, or maybe the curtains, but it didn’t matter to him.

“loving me is fatal, i know that, but just give it a chance. won’t you?” he was begging you at this point. losing you just because you didn’t love him back was a thought that had emerged throughout the silence. he was putting his heart out there for you, something he never expected to do for anyone.

tom watched as your eyes flickered between whatever was behind him to his face. he was so desperate to hear you say the three words back to him. he needed to know that you felt the same way, he needed to know that his sudden insecurities were false. as soon as your eyes had met tom’s, he immediately searched your face for anything that would give him hope.

“please baby,” tom whispered. he rested his forehead against yours, wanting so badly to kiss you. instead, your noses rubbed against each other as he contemplated whether or not he should kiss you. you tilted your chin up so your lips met for the second time that morning, this time full of passion. 

“i love you tom, but it scares me so, so much,” you whispered after pulling away. 

“i know darling.” his hand stayed on your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. tom couldn’t help but notice the way you leaned into his touch ever so slightly.

“i’m scared that now i’ve said it they’re going to come for me.” your fears were something tom thought about every day. he would rather die himself than have any harm done to you. he would give up anything and everything to get you back. 

“i would go to the ends of the earth to protect you. i’d never, ever, let anyone hurt you, you hear me?” you nodded. “i’m so in love with you y/n, and i could never bear to lose you. it would kill me.” tom’s eyes welled up with tears just thinking about what would happen if he would have lost you, and as a stray tear fell, it was your turn to cup his face and wipe it away.

“i love you tommy,” you said softly, causing a small smile to appear on tom’s face. 

“i love you y/n.”

• • • 

tom spent all of saturday waiting to hear from you. it had been five months since the two of you confessed your love for each other, and the relationship had only grown from there. he was still waiting to ask you to move in with him, but seeing as your lease was ending at the end of the year, he had time. despite having your own place, you still found yourself spending most of your time at his place, something tom wasn’t mad at because it was much safer than your condo. 

you had spent the past two days at your place, something about needing to clean the condo and get chores done around it. sure you didn’t stay there often, but tom knew you still wanted to keep the place tidy. he also knew that whenever you two would spend some time there, it usually ended in sex or hungover mornings, usually both. normally, you would have texted tom that you were running late or would just send him a message saying you were thinking of him, but he had heard nothing from you. he brushed it off at first thinking that you were just busy and weren’t on your phone, but as soon as the evening rolled around he had a feeling something was up.

tom spent the last week with his men planning around a deal that was supposed to happen, but had called it off last minute knowing that tyler, a member of another mafia, was screwing them over. the deal was called off on thursday, and the more tom thought about it, friday evening was the last time he had heard from you. that couldn’t have been just a coincidence, right?

without a second thought, despite it being three in the morning, he called harrison up. things felt off, and tom had a gut feeling that something had happened to you.

“pick up, pick up, pick up,” he mumbled to himself as the phone rang. tom’s anxiety grew exponentially. he paced around the office, not able to sit still as he waited for his best friend, and second in line, to pick up. harrison was someone tom relied on when it came to getting shit done, especially when things were stressful. sure he had his brothers, but he was in charge and he didn’t want to put too much pressure on them. they were involved, but not as much as harrison was.

“mate it’s three-” harrison started, but tom was quick to cut him off.

“i have no proof but something happened to y/n and i think tyler did it. she hasn’t talked to me since last night.” tom was desperate. he needed to get you back and the anxious thoughts of what would happen if you were gone forever were eating away at him. he heard the blond curse on the other end of the line.

“i’m on my way. wake up the twins too.” tom was never one to take commands from anyone, with the exception of his parents, but he had no clue what to do first. the thought of losing you had clouded his rational thoughts and prevented him from thinking clearly and making a plan. so he did what harrison instructed. he went to the garage apartment where the twins lived. the walk across the backyard to the garage was short, but cold. tom let himself in using the keycode, and immediately went upstairs to bang on their bedroom doors. he knew they would be sleeping, but he was panicking.

sam was his first victim. immediately after he started banging on sam’s door, he heard sam yell something he couldn’t quite make out.

“get the fuck up!” tom demanded. he hoped his yelling was enough for both of them to wake up.

“what crawled up your ass?” harry asked, opening his door to look at his older brother. the ginger brought a hand up to rub his eyes. 

“y/n’s gone.” the short sentence was enough for both boys to wake up and rid the grogginess from their bodies.

“what?” sam asked. he was shocked, eyebrows raised and jaw slightly dropped. 

“where did she go?” harry asked afterwards, prompting a slap on the arm from sam. “ouch! what’d you do that for?”

“you idiot, if he knew he wouldn’t be panicking.”

tom found himself spiraling. he didn’t know what to do from here, he didn’t receive any other instructions. the thought of tyler tying you up and leaving you to basically die in a warehouse was the only thing he thought about. he thought about you being bloody and bruised, and how he wasn’t there to protect you. tom felt so guilty. he promised you he would go to the ends of the earth to protect you, but now you were missing and it was all his fault. 

“fuck,” tom whispered. he rubbed his face, his hand then coming up to grip the brown curls on the top of his head. 

“c’mon mate, harrison’s probably waiting in the office,” sam insisted. tom knew they had never seen him lose his composure the way he did, but he was glad that they were doing something to help.

the three brothers walked back across the backyard, the light shining through a window lighting up a portion of the pathway. they were silent as they walked over to the main house, neither of them knowing what to say. tom was playing out all of the worst case scenarios in his head, praying and hoping that you were okay.

when they entered tom’s office, harrison was already pacing around the room. tom knew that harrison was deep in thought with the way he wagged his fingers at nothing,

“ah, finally!” harrison exclaimed as soon as he noticed the three of them. “so i called ricky, and he tried to track y/n’s location on her phone, but it’s currently off,” harrison paused to look at the expression on tom’s face. he knew his best friend was on the verge of losing it right now, but he had to get him back on track. “the last place her phone sent a signal from was near the flower shop on 5th ave.”

“there’s a warehouse not even fifteen minutes from that flower shop,” harry was quick to point out.

“what if he went to the warehouse down by the docks?” sam asked. the docks were twenty minutes away from the flower shop, but it was still an option. tom tried hard to think about what tyler would’ve done. eventually, he thought to where the deal was supposed to be made, and neither of those warehouses were options.

“if we drove south outside of the city and took the exit before the safehouse, there’s a warehouse there, and that’s where he and y/n would be.” tom was sure of it. if tyler was behind all of this, then it would be to get back at the loss of the deal. at the revelation, tom began to formulate a plan in his head, his brothers and harrison knowing very well not to disturb him while doing so.

“when we drive there, you three are going to be in a car together and i’ll be on my own. i’ll go through the east entrance, while sam and harry are going to wait at the other entrances. harrison,” tom turned to face the blond before continuing to deal out commands. “you are going to stay behind me as my backup and if anything happens to me you have to get y/n out of there.”

“nothing’s going to happen to you,” harrison immediately reassured.

“can’t ever be too sure.” 

tom walked over to his desk and unlocked a drawer to pull out two handguns. he handed one to sam, then grabbing a few cartridges and tossing one to the older twin.

“harrison, open that drawer by the window, there should be two more guns there,” tom commanded, and harrison quickly followed the instructions. he handed one of the guns to harry, then handing him an extra cartridge, and soon enough they were on their way.

• • • 

tom had just gotten off the freeway. he glanced in the blindspot and saw harrison’s black bmw following behind him before looking back at the road in front of him. all he could think of was you. all he could think of was getting you back and he swore to himself in that moment that he would do anything to bring you back.

the inside of the car was silent, he heard nothing but the faint sound of the engine and other cars passing. tom’s thoughts were enough to fill up the car. all he could think of was killing the bastard for putting you in any sort of danger.

“god i swear if she doesn’t come back alive i don’t know what i’m gonna do,” he said to himself. the warehouse was just a few miles away, but the closer he got, he found his grip on the steering wheel to tighten until his fists were clenched. the stress of whether or not you were okay was getting to him, but the self-hatred he felt was stronger. he wondered how he could have ever let this happen to you.

all of a sudden his phone rang, and as he looked over at the screen in his car, all that was displayed was ‘unknown caller.’ tom answered the phone knowing it was tyler.

“give me my girl back tyler,” tom demanded, but he knew the answer. he knew tyler would refuse, but it was still worth a shot.

“love is fatal, isn’t it tom?” his words rung in tom’s ears. those were the same words he had said to you when he said ‘i love you’ for the first time, and he never would’ve imagined he would be right.

“tom!” you yelled out for him. your voice seemed drowned out, like you were far away from the phone, but still in the same room, and that was all tom needed to know. knowing you were okay gave him the energy to get you back, but he didn’t know how long tyler would keep you alive for, if at all.

“you know what i want holland. approve the deal and i’ll give her back in perfect condition,” tyler bargained, but he wasn’t in the position to be bargaining with tom, not when tom started planning in his head.

“fuck you tyler. that deal is shit and you know it.” 

“maybe for you, but not for me and my men.” tyler’s voice was coated with confidence, and tom knew that tyler wanted him to give in and just make the deal for the sake of getting you back, but tom was not going to do that. he thought of how to get you back without sacrificing the family business. tom knew you would’ve been upset with him if he gave up everything for you. you never wanted for him to ever choose between you or his line of work, no matter how illegal and wrong it may be at times. 

“i’d rather die than sign that deal.” tom took a hand off the steering wheel to run it to grab his phone and ask one of his men to track the call. he pulled over, harrison pulling over behind him, and when harry got out of the car to ask what happened, all tom did was show him the phone screen. 

“y/n say goodbye to your boyfriend,” tyler taunted. tom heard shuffling and the sound of boots walking across the concrete ground of the warehouse.

“fuck you tyler,” you cursed at him, bringing a smile to tom’s face. even after being kidnapped, you were still as fiery as you normally were. 

“now that’s not how you talk to me, now is it darling?” the pet name slipped from tyler’s lips, and if tom could, he would’ve put a bullet through tyler’s head just for that.

“y/n, did you order the new bedding?” tom asked. though he would’ve never wanted it to happen, he made sure that you had some sort of code sentence to let you know that he would be coming to save you.

“yeah tom, i haven’t checked where they’re shipping it from though.” you didn’t know where you were, but tom knew that you were okay, and that was all that mattered.

“okay, that’s enough,” tyler said, then starting to walk away from you tom presumed. tom hoped that he wasn’t wrong about this.

“tom, if you don’t sign the deal by dawn, it will be the end of you and y/n.” tyler then hung up, and tom smacked the steering wheel out of frustration.

“bloody hell.”

tom got out of the car and walked over to where harrison and the twins were standing. 

“y/n’s okay, but he wants me to sign the fucking deal in order to get her back.” harrison made a face of disgust.

“harry rung ricky and jacob as we were driving, you’ll have more backup when we get there.” tom nodded his head in response to harrison’s words. as tom thought about what changes his original plan needed, his phone went off. pulling it out of his pocket, he read a text off the screen. 

warehouse south of the city, 40 minutes away from the safehouse.

tom’s instincts were right, and where they were standing off the side of the highway was only 10 minutes away from the warehouse. 

“we’re 10 minutes away from them right now,” tom told the group. his thumb played with the ring on his middle finger, continuously turning it as he thought. 

“ricky and jacob said they would be there in 20 minutes when i rung them, and that was about 5 minutes ago. they’ll be there but they’ll show up after us.” tom nodded.

“let’s go,” tom said, then walked away from the group and into his car without another word. he was determined to get you back and was sure he would do it even if it was the last thing he ever did.

• • • 

before tom knew it, guns were drawn out everywhere. with his arm clasped around tyler’s neck, and his other hand bringing a gun up to his head, he looked over to see another man, one he didn’t recognize, bringing a gun up to the side of your head. he glanced around the room, guns pointed at his men, at tyler’s men, and at him.

“just sign the contract,” tyler gasped out. tom’s hold on tyler was strong enough to partially restrict his airways, allowing him to have more control on the rival, but not enough to kill him, not yet anyways. 

“never in a million years,” tom spat. he tightened his arm, causing tyler to gasp out for air. the safety of someone’s gun clicked and he knew that it came from someone who was pointing at him. “let her go, and i won’t kill you.” tom’s voice was low and rough, partially from the exhaustion. 

tom looked over at you, happy that you were okay and still alive, but he had no idea how he was going to get you out of there. his men would never be a priority while you were in danger, and as much as he considered some of his employees his family, you were the only person who mattered. they could fend for themselves, and tom knew you could as well, but he wanted to ensure your safety by taking it on as his own job. you know what they say, if you want something done right, you better do it yourself.

his gaze on you lingered. tom watched as you bounced your leg, knowing you couldn’t sit still, but then he watched as your foot moved and pointed off to the side. were you trying to give him some sort of a sign? the two of you made eye contact, and you tilted your head in the same direction as your foot. you were definitely trying to tell him something, but tom couldn’t decipher it. he looked around, before landing in the direction your foot was pointing in when his eyes landed on tyler’s second in command. he was blond, average height, and the white dress shirt he sported was drenched with sweat. was his name ben or bradley? he could never remember, but it didn’t matter. whatever his name was, he was standing pointing a gun at harry, but the longer tom looked at him, the more he realized he was terrified.

tom looked back at you, a neutral look on his face as the two of you attempted to silently communicate. your wrists were tied together, but unfortunately for tyler, they had made the grave decision of keeping them in front of your torso. tom watched as you attempted to sign some words, but he struggled to understand.

he knows they won’t win

he made eye contact with you once again, and you signed out the word for ‘yes.’ there were only five enemies and six of them so they weren’t outnumbered, but tom wanted for you to get out without any harm done. he didn’t want to endanger you. 

tom looked back at ben, bradley, whatever his name was, and could see just how tense he was. maybe he knew that this wasn’t going to work out, not while they were up against tom. maybe if they were up against someone else, then they would get out alive, but tom was still one of the most feared mob bosses just because of how quickly he was gaining power. when dominic passed the business onto tom, no one thought their power would exponentially grow, not while tom was only 24 and had his whole life in front of him.

tyler gasped out for air again, and tom could feel him slowly going limp against his body. he knew he needed to act, and soon.

“here’s what’s going to happen. you,” tom paused, pointing his gun at the blond. “are going to untie her and let her walk free out of the building. i will not hesitate to choke tyler out, and i am about three minutes away from doing so.” the fire in tom’s eyes was visible to everyone around him, he was sure of it.

“brent, don’t,” tyler coughed out, but tom just tightened the headlock tyler was in. so his name was brent, not ben or bradley. his name didn’t matter when tom was able to control him solely through the fear he caused.

“go on, untie her.” tom nodded his head in encouragement. brent walked over to you, untying your hands and the ropes that bind your torso to the back of the chair. as soon as you were free, you rubbed your wrists hoping to soothe the sore, tender skin that the rope had caused. you walked across the warehouse and out of it while tom kept an eye on everyone else in the room. 

“good. that wasn’t so hard, now was it?” tom’s voice was coated with a nasty tone, a smirk appearing on his face. he tightened his grip once more, causing tyler to pass out. 

“if you guys ever, and i mean ever, attempt anything like this shit, i will not hesitate to kill all of you.” and with that, tom and his men walked out of the building, only sporting a few bruises and cuts.

tom ran up to you as soon as he saw your figure standing up against the side of his car.

“darling are you okay?” you immediately asked, cupping his face in your hands as your thumb brushed across a bruise that sat on his cheekbone.

“i’m fine, but are you okay? i’m so sorry baby.” tom rambled about how he was supposed to protect you, but you cut him off with a hug.

“i knew you would come for me,” you whispered. the feeling of you pressed up against tom’s body was enough to erase all the guilt he had felt. “i love you tommy.” 

“i love you too y/n.” tom leaned down to kiss you, full of passion as if it was the last time he would ever kiss you again.

• • • 

the two of you laid in bed. tom was fast asleep, his arm draped across your waist, his bare chest pressed against your back. you couldn’t stop thinking about tyler’s words. love is fatal, the same words tom had said when he first said he loved you. would he really die for you? you knew that loving him would be the one thing that killed you, and you were okay with it. you would do anything for him.

you rolled over so you were facing him. his eyelashes laid gently on his cheeks, curls messy from tom constantly running his hands through it earlier in the night. the sun was rising, but you hadn’t gotten any sleep. you couldn’t stop thinking about everything. the different scenarios played through your mind, alternate realities building themselves up along with your anxiety. the one thought you couldn’t shake from your mind was if he would be back. you weren’t even sure if tyler was actually dead or if he had just passed out. tom had possibly killed someone just mere meters away from you, and the only thing you wondered was if he was going to come back for you once again, not if he was dead.

you gave it a chance, and love proved to be almost fatal. what was going to prevent it from being so next time? you wished that you were in a deep sleep like tom. you wished that your mind could calm down for just a second so you could stop thinking about everything.

hours had passed, and you hadn’t slept for any of them. it was almost noon, but you and tom were still in bed. he was still asleep, and you’re sure that his parents would be here any time soon. you decided to get out of bed and make yourself busy. you got ready for the day, changing into a navy blue dress.

making your way to the kitchen, you saw the chefs at work preparing lunch for everyone. you gave them a soft smile as you made your way to the nespresso machine to make yourself a coffee. though tom always preferred tea over coffee, when you had entered his life he made the decision of getting a nespresso machine for you, always keeping the pods stocked up for you. you grabbed a mug from the cupboard above the machine, your coffee nook as tom liked to call it, before brewing a cup and putting creamer and sugar into it. you then walked down to the library, a place you had quickly turned into your own when you started staying over at tom’s place. 

the library had huge windows and faced south, allowing tons of sunlight to seep into the room. two out of the four walls were lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves, those of which were filled with books that tom had bought for you. when you entered his life and started making the library home, he made sure to get books that he knew you loved or would come to love. though you haven’t read all of them, he had good taste and there had yet to be a book that you disliked. 

you sat down on one of the couches, pulling a grey knit throw blanket over your legs, the cup of coffee in your hands. you stared out the window, watching as tessa ran around out back with one of the housekeepers throwing a ball for her to play with. no matter how peaceful the view was, you couldn’t stop thinking about those three words. love is fatal. 

broken from your thoughts by the feeling of tom wrapping his arms around you and kissing your cheek, all your anxieties suddenly left. you suddenly realized that whenever you felt tom’s touch, nothing mattered but him. whenever you were having sex with tom, nothing mattered but him. you had no shame about your love for him, so if love was fatal, then you wouldn’t want anyone else but tom pulling the trigger.

-

anything and everything taglist: @hollanderfangirl @hxrryhxlland @ohmy-moonlightx @musicalkeys @notsosmexy @writertoo18 @icyhollands @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @lehmehgeh @call-me-baby-gir1

tom holland taglist: @hollandsrecs @chris_evanslover @becicamina

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Six

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 6 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. All trigger warnings will be listed before the chapter. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: physical assault; mentions of past sexual assault (brief); abusive parental relationship; canon violence; ANGST; mentions of attempted suicide; mentions of drugs, drug smuggling, and human trafficking; bullying and harassment; SMUT (unprotected sex; hair pulling; ass smack!; ALL THAT GOOD CONSENT; talking a lot during sex lol); 18+ ONLY PLEASE!

Word Count: 21,400+

A/N: ya’ll my timeline is completely fucked (age wise)... like... anything remotely romantic happening between Steve x Female Reader happened AFTER Infinity War when the reader was already 19-20. I just realized that my years were off in a certain flashback......... so yes, everyone knew the reader while they were still in their teens but they’re literally 26-27 present day so don’t think too much of it lmao i can’t really fix it now lol

~

An Avengers Safehouse, 2023, 10:45 pm  

    Every door was closed and locked for the night. You had made sure of it. A distraction now would ultimately destroy any other chance you might get, and this chance was already overdue. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you jogged down the hallways to the common room you knew he was in. He had been catching up on his reading for the past two days now, a small pinch of solace during this hectic week. 

Your feet were heavy, invisible anchors shackled to your ankles and dragging you lower to the depths of that personal hell you had been burning in. Glancing over your shoulder, you measured the distance between you and your room, chest beginning to feel tight as your lungs forgot the taste of air. It was like you were walking to your own personal execution, flesh and bone ready to disconnect from your essence. But you weren’t walking toward anything dangerous - you were walking to him. To speak with him. To be with him. 

You knew you saw it when everyone returned from the heist. He wasn’t himself - he regretted not using the stones for himself, possibly - you truly didn’t know why. You enjoyed the reunions and getting to reconnect with everyone. Grasping and holding Wanda in your arms was outright magical, to touch one of your best friends after nearly accepting the possibility of never doing that again - you had a similar reaction when you collapsed into Peter’s arms with the weight of those five long years. 

And you knew Steve was grateful as well, he had to be, but his exclusion of you hurt. You had shrugged it off the first time - perhaps he was tired, wanted more private time to catch up with Sam and Bucky, to be with his friends as you were with yours. The second time he dismissed you, it was during a dinner. The seat beside you was empty, it wasn’t even that close to you, and he decided to skip dinner altogether. 

But the third time, the most wretched of times, had shown you that something was truly wrong. This wasn’t the Steve you had grown close to these five years. He was distant, cold, a completely changed person that only spoke when absolutely necessary. 

It was a nightmare, one of the worst ones you ever had, and Friday had alerted the only other room near yours - Steve’s. The knocks were loud, frantic in their purpose, and Friday unlocked the door. You were shaken awake, tugged into a chest that wasn’t as firm as the one you remembered, and soft whispers of ‘you’re okay, you’re alright’ drowned out the sounds of your panicked whimpers. You reached out to stroke the person’s face, eyes snapping open when you realized it wasn’t him, it wasn’t Steve. 

‘Bucky?’ you had whispered, hands still stroking his face as he held you. 

‘It’s me. You’re okay, you’re alright.’

‘Where’s Steve? Is he okay?’

Bucky immediately tensed, expression turning somber as he tried to give an acceptable explanation. 

‘He’s… he’s not coming, doll.’

‘What do you mean he’s not coming? He always comes, he-”

‘Doll, hey,’ he shook his head, biting his bottom lip. ‘He’s not coming.’

The broken question of ‘why?’ had tumbled from your lips until Bucky’s rocking had calmed you enough to fall back into a deep sleep. And the next morning, Steve announced he was moving from the safehouse and back to his apartment permanently. 

And it made no sense considering you two were on wonderful terms just a few weeks ago babysitting Morgan. It was like he flipped a switch and erased you from his memory. 

You deserve an explanation. You deserve to have your questions answered, to see the look in his eyes as he tried to explain himself, to witness his fumbling as you caught him off guard. You deserved to know.  

“Why are you avoiding me?”

The common area was illuminated by a soft, yellow light from the lamp in the corner of the room, the moonlight only shining over the kitchen. Steve sat on the lone couch near the soft light, book in his lap and already half-way read. 

No one really snuck up on him - no one had the chance to with his enhanced hearing - but you succeeded. The book nearly fell from his lap, a hitch in his breath alerting you that he really wasn’t expecting anyone. He set the book down on the nearby table and slowly stood up. “I’m not avoiding you.”

You will not cry right now. 

You scoffed, “So, leaving a room when I walk in is just a common occurrence now? What about avoiding me completely? You don’t say good morning, you don’t tell me hello, you don’t even sit near me anymore-”

“It’s late, and these briefings have really taken a toll on me, agent.” Steve sighed and avoided your eyes as he walked right past you and into the kitchen. 

He hadn’t actually done it, but that certainly was a slap in the face. The invisible shackles wrapped around your ankles were pulling harder, drowning you in your grief.

You mindlessly whipped your head at him, watching as he grabbed the milk carton and proceeded to do absolutely nothing with it. You clenched your teeth, “Agent?” 

He did not immediately correct himself. The room was now deathly silent, minus the quick breaths under your nose. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Don’t make this into something it’s not.”

Your forehead strained from the pained expression you held, tears brimmed and burning as they threatened to fall. You walked towards him and tried to keep a steady demeanor, anger drowning your veins the quickest it ever has. “What is it then? ‘Cause you’ve been calling me by my real name for the last five years! You’re my friend!”

Everytime your name slipped from his mouth it made you like him more. His presence was no longer uncomfortable or forced, but rather calming and needed. This friendship was built high and mighty these five years, walls seemingly strong. You worried there was true vulnerability in those foundations.

Speaking to Rhodey or Bruce just wasn’t the same as speaking to Steve. Helping him take out the trash, buying coffee for one another, asking the other what they wanted to watch on television. But now your name was absent from his voice, restrained and gutted from existence as if to purposely hurt your now healing mind. 

Steve ignored the desperate portion of your argument, “It’s time to focus on the new threats this world faces-”

“What are you talking about? Why are you shutting me out like I’m not important to you?”

His jaw tensed, eyes still distant. “I’m not shutting you out. I’m saying we need to focus on the fights we thought we left behind-”

“You mean my dad? Because I’m pretty fucking sure he’s looking to only kill me.”

“Don’t joke about that-”

You had no physical control now. The anger was at its boiling point, seeping through the corners of your eyelids and corners of your mouth. “Joke about what? Why are you not letting me in?”

Steve gripped the counter, head hanging low but voice powerful enough to shake through you. “Stop interrupting me!”

A solitary tear hit the floor beneath you, voice now wobbly and unsure of its chosen words. “What happened to you?”

Steve remained silent for only a moment, hands still gripping the expensive granite. “Nothing happened.”

He ran his right hand down his face to relieve some of the tense muscles. He continued to speak.

“Now that everyone’s back and the same threats are picking up where they left off, I’ve got bigger problems on my hands.”

You scoffed again, “Oh, so now Scott’s time heist has another negative consequence?”

In a matter of a millisecond, Steve turned suddenly and was now towering over you. Your back instantly straightened. “Don’t be smart with me. You know what this means.”

You just looked up at him, eyes slightly fogging up but the rest of your face still determined. You spoke low, searching his face for any indication that he would swing. No, he wouldn’t. Ever. “Spell it out for me then. I’m still seething from not hearing my first name yet.”

Steve ignored your quip, “Now that your father’s back, we need to finish what we started.”

You stared at him in disbelief, “You don’t think he’s actually going to pick up where he left off, right? Not now!”

“He already has. Fury notified me through a secure channel,” Steve declared, stepping away from you as his mind finally rewired. 

You instinctively wrapped your arms around your torso, “No…”

“Business as usual.”

Your voice raised an octave, desperation now dousing your plea of ignorance, “No, you’re lying. You’re a goddamn liar!”

“Calm down, agent. This isn’t the time-”

It was your turn to crowd Steve, stepping toward him and pushing him backwards. Your mind told you to not touch him, that he never touched you, and that it was horribly wrong. But his blank face prompted another push, your body acting on its own will. 

“Agent? Agent! Steve, what the fuck is going on?”

His voice was deeper, “If you yell one more time-”

“You’ll what?” 

Neither of you spoke. In that moment, you wondered if anyone had heard this fight as you and Steve weren’t exactly being quiet. You knew your voice traveled down several hallways and his strong one practically shook the floors. So you pushed that thought to the back of your cramped brain, head held high and eyes boring into Steve’s.

“Now that you got your old friends back, I’m useless. Is that right?”

His eyes widened, “Where in the hell is that coming from?”

“I’m right, right? You don’t want to be my friend anymore, I was a rebound all these years?”

Steve started shaking his head, eyes closed as he tried to calculate the best possible response. He could feel his lungs burn, almost like they did before the serum, and he realized he was throwing himself into a panic attack. It tickled its way up his throat, clenching the sides and dragging its nails across the sensitive surface.

You were still speaking.  

“You know, you’re still pissed that the first name I spit out to Fury when I went undercover was yours. You never wanted to help me with it.”

“Don’t start-”

You knew you shouldn’t have continued, this argument proved childish since he first called you by an old, nameless nickname. But it seemed he had no intention of apologizing or providing you with an explanation for his sudden absence.

“You’re still fuming about it. You’re still fuming about your image being ruined. Good ol’ Captain America as a secret, undercover drug dealer!”

Steve finally showed proof of cracking, hands gripping his hair harshly. “Y/N, I said don’t start! I’m finished!”

But you persisted, now screaming and countless, frustrated tears tainting your red cheeks. “You can’t fucking stand me because I tarnished that fucking star on your chest! I made you look bad to a bunch of fucking criminals!”

Steve grabbed the nearest object, the coffee maker Tony had bought for their six year formation anniversary, and flung it across the room. It shattered into the wall, leftover cold coffee staining the peach paint, the glass littered over the floor. “That’s enough!”

The sound of its impact made your stomach churn. You were frozen in place, almost certain that Steve would throw you next, and your legs were suddenly cold. “Who are you?”

“I don’t know anymore,” Steve choked out, tears forming in his eyes as well. His chest rapidly raised and lowered, his breathing becoming erratic. Even he wondered why no one had come to check up on you two.

For the sake of Steve’s sanity, you whispered your next reply. 

“You hate me that much-”

“Y/N-”

And you were suddenly overpowered by a sense of calm acceptance. “You hate me so much that you can’t even stand to look at me.”

“Please...”

“I’m finished, too. From now on… you’re my Captain. I’m just an agent. I’ll answer your call to help fight. That’s it.”

You had thought he would drop to his knees and apologize. This Steve wasn’t your Steve - not that Steve or any part of him was ever yours - but it was almost impossible to comprehend such a blank set of emotions from the same man who helped you with laundry, remembered the captions of your photo posts and teased you about them later, or casually sketched your outline in his sketchbook. He began to disregard your kindness, your presence, your voice the moment Wanda held Vision’s face as he whispered his goodbye, as she got her closure, as she had to say goodbye for the thousandth time. 

But nothing could prepare you for his quick acceptance of your offer.

“I think that’s for the best.”

You nodded slowly, arms falling to your sides. It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did - hell, you didn’t love the guy - but he was so much more than just a colleague now. You had literally saved the world together. He was your shoulder to cry on and you were his. Did you love him? 

“Just so you know, I wasn’t faking any of it.” 

Steve looked as if he was going to say something but closed his mouth. You swore you could see his bottom lip trembling, but he remained still. He stared anywhere but your face. 

You turned to leave, body ready to give away and tumble into the mound of pillows calling your name. But you held yourself up at the doorway, turning back to Steve and meeting his eyes - he was already watching you walk away. 

You swallowed hard, “And I’ll be the honest one here, tonight - you were the only thing stopping me from putting a bullet in my head for five years.”

Present Day, 2025, 7:02am

     You awoke startled, your gasp a little raspy as it sounded off in the quiet room. Your internal clock was already stressing you out, letting you know that you seriously had to get up now, even before your alarm rang. 

Dread swam in the pit of your stomach, swirling the pound of breadsticks you had last night. Yesterday had been your last ‘in between’ day, the last day to truly map out your next steps before you actually had to execute them. You would see everyone today, tomorrow, and the next - the next the final, the endgame. 

You rolled over and glanced at Steve. His bed was empty, sheets folded and pillows fluffed, and the bathroom was open and empty. 

With a pinch of your eyebrows, you groaned as you flipped your legs over the side of your bed. You stilled, but there was no other sound. 

Steve really wasn’t here. 

For a second, you were angry. You couldn’t believe he literally left you alone, after basically defiling you and you himself, on a day that would for sure strike a major nerve in your crippling anxiety. It was low, like you were left to pick up your heels and proceed with the walk of shame down the hotel hallways.

But then the next second, you were relieved. You could take this moment to relive last night, to hatch out every single detail, to somehow make sense of just what the hell happened. It had been so fucking hot, so fucking overdue, and god, did you want to do it again. Steve’s absence allowed you to squeal in both delight and disbelief. 

You had fondled… had sex with?... humped?... your literal Captain. Sure, you had crossed a boundary in this ten-year friendship and rivalry, a boundary that was now completely exed out and erased really, but it wasn’t literal sex. Right?

It was certainly something if you had learned one thing from Sex Ed 101. Intimacy was intimacy. Yeah, you and Steve shared… intimacy. 

It took all your willpower to shrug off the rest of the blankets and start getting ready. There wasn’t much to do except hope that your guns didn’t jam or Seda didn’t ambush you. Quickly shooting off a text to Wanda, you waited for her much needed call. 

‘Hey, what’s up?’

You let out a long hum, face lifted toward the ceiling as you thought about how you would phrase last night’s events to her. “So, like, I’m gonna kill myself.”

‘Back up. Explain?’

“Ahhhhh, Wanda! I fucked up. We fucked up.”

Wanda’s voice sounded frantic, ‘Did the mission go wrong? Where’s Scott? Steve? Torres?’

You groaned, stomping your foot like the literal child you were. “Wanda, me and Steve did something last night.”

Wanda was silent for a few moments, her quick breaths evening out as she collected her thoughts. ‘Are you trying to tell me, that while trying to tell me you had sex with Steve last night, you made it sound like we would have had to all suit up to save your asses all the way across the country?’

Grateful she couldn’t see you blush, you responded as if you were trying to still keep the events a secret. “Well, when you put it like that!”

‘Did you and Steve actually…?’

“No, no! But we… touched and stuff.”

‘Is this high school? Spit it out.’

It was basic instinct to inspect the room again before you admitted it. “We sort of just, got each other off. Like, handjobs and such.”

Wanda let out a sound that resembled both a groan and a chuckle. ‘High school.’

You threw yourself back into bed, rolling around and throwing pillows all over the place. “It was so hot.”

‘You don’t need to give me the specifics.’

“Who else am I supposed to talk with? Bucky?”

Wanda choked on her laugh, ‘Okay, okay. I see your point.’

“What does this mean?” you asked both her and yourself. 

‘I’m gonna tell you something that you might not like to hear, okay?’

“Ugh, don’t scare me.”

Wanda chuckled before she continued, ‘This doesn’t surprise me.’

You practically strained your back from snapping up from bed so quickly. “What do you mean ‘you’re not surprised’?”

There was slight shuffling on the other line. ‘I owe Peter fifty dollars.’

You huffed loudly, “What do you mean by that, Wanda?”

Wanda sighed, ‘Look, we weren’t here during those five years. We weren’t here to see you two together. But Bruce told us how you two were during that time. Even when you were ignoring each other for months after, you didn’t hesitate to protect each other.’

You shook your head, as if she could see you. “He abandoned me for a good while.”

Wanda interrupted, ‘You saved him at the height of your fighting.’

You rolled your eyes, “He’s my Captain, of course I saved him.”

‘You didn’t have to.’

Your thoughts were flying at a hundred miles an hour, colliding with one another at top speeds. You opted to forgo that memory. It was shelved, to be revisited later. 

Changing the subject to a much less dramatic topic, the phone call lasted for another fifteen minutes before you seriously had to finish getting ready. 

The talk helped. But it didn’t answer any questions you had. The answers lay in the one place you really didn’t want to explore right now. Maybe after breakfast.

      Scott stumbled out of the elevator with very sleepy eyes, fingers still digging into their corners as he made his way to the hotel bar. Steve was seated in the farthest chair from the entrance just casually sipping orange juice. 

“What was so urgent that I had to wake up before my alarm?” Scott groaned as he slid into the seat beside him. 

Steve’s eyes were glued to his drink. He was bouncing his leg wildly. “I’m sorry, I just…”

It didn’t take a genius to know that when someone was nursing an orange juice in the hotel bar, head hanging low and with a massive pout, there was something incredibly wrong. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m just cranky when I have to get up early.”

Steve waved his hand, “No, don’t apologize. I get it. I mean it.”

Scott ordered his own glass. He spread his lips into a thin line, “Did you want to talk? I’m a great listener. I could listen to Luis go on for hours on end.”

“I need to tell someone.”

“I’m all ears.”

Steve hesitated for only a second, downing the orange juice as if it was a shot. He ordered another. “I kissed Y/N last night.”

“Are you serious?” Scott’s eyes widened and he gurgled his juice on accident. He didn’t know what to say. Congratulations? 

“And we messed around a little bit.”

Now Scott tilted his head to the side and gave the super soldier an amused glare. “Messed around? What is this, the third grade?”

Steve cringed, “I hope to God no third graders are messing around.”

His juice was long forgotten now. “Then call it like it is, Captain. You ‘serviced the Venus’, you ‘made whoopee’, you -”

“That’s calling it like it is?”

“Am I wrong?”

“Very. We just… touched and stuff.”

Steve’s awkward hand gestures caused Scott’s lip to twitch itself into a weird smile. “You ‘cleaned your rifle’? You did the ‘loop-de-loop?”

“Where in the hell are you getting these things from? You think we actually talked like this back in the forties?” Steve covered his ears and lay his forehead against the counter. 

“Sorry, sorry. I was just having a little fun.” Scott apologized, trying to make eye contact even as Steve’s head was lowered. “Sorry, no fun.” Still, Steve remained sheltered. “Damn, man. Did something else happen that you’re not telling me?”

Finally, Steve turned his head to look at Scott but left it resting against the counter. “I feel like we crossed a line.”

“You technically violated the mission code of ethics, but.”

Steve snapped up and covered his face with his hands, index fingers pinching the corners of his eyes. “But kissing her didn’t feel wrong. Holding her didn’t feel wrong.”

Scott was in the middle of a rom com. He had to be. There was always that scene where one of the partners freaked out because they themselves didn’t know their own feelings. They would cower in their own little world for about fifteen minutes, or at least fifteen minutes of screentime, and then gain the courage to talk it through. Scott was just that random friend who happened to ask what was wrong. 

But you and Steve were his teammates. The two of you had helped him get his family back. You had been so excited to try out the time machine, shutting everyone else up as they bullied him for simply having the idea. Steve risked his life for him more times than he could count in the past two years. He always suspected something was wrong between the two of you. But no one was brave enough to openly speak about what had happened that night. He just knew what Sam had told him - ‘It’s none of our business. They’re both acting like children. But Steve, even though I love him with all my heart, royally fucked up.’

“Then why are you so worried? Steve, I wasn’t around those five years. Only you know your relationship with her.”

“I don’t deserve it,” Steve mumbled.

His ears were playing tricks. He had gone deaf. “Huh?”

Steve explained further, his face falling with each new confession he spoke verbally. He hadn’t even discussed these feelings with his therapist. Granted, he only spoke of you when you were being a pain in his ass, but romantically? “I don’t deserve to touch her, to have her, to be with her. I left her alone at her most vulnerable, and that you were here for so you know.”

Scott shook his head, “But I have no real say in that. Like I said, only you know what you feel.”

He finished his juice and leaned back in his chair. He clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder and they both turned their attention to the tiny television mounted on the wall playing the morning news. It was hard to believe that a couple years ago, Scott had completely fangirled over being in Steve’s presence. Now he was one of his closest friends. 

His next thought seemed to register slowly and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Wait, did you leave her to wake up alone?”

Steve paused and bit down on his tongue. “I, may have done that.”

Scott nodded as he received the confirmation. “You know, Bucky and Wanda have a bet going on over which of you will kill the other first. I think you tipped the victory to her, man.”

Steve returned the slap to the shoulder and stood up. “Thanks, Scott.”

He followed Steve out the entrance. “I don’t feel like this conversation is over, but you gotta go back up there. I’m always here if you want to talk.”

Steve sent him a genuine smile as he walked backwards to the stairs instead of the elevator. “Don’t bring it up.”

Scott saluted him, “I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid.”

“That didn’t make any-”

Scott clicked the button for the elevator and waved Steve off, “It’s from a show my daughter used to watch, hey, you know what, forget about it.”

    Steve doesn’t quite know what propels him up the stairs instead of the elevator, but it’s probably the need to burn at least one calorie before facing the music. It was an idiotic move leaving you alone to unravel such a major change, and Steve was tired of running. The amount of times he claimed he could ‘do this all day’ and yet, he let the final battle dictate his life afterward. He was just so tired of running from things that required him to stay, and staying for things that destroyed his mental health. 

Scott carried the conversation as they reentered the room, finding you already dressed and smiling bright. But that smile was directed at Scott, a brilliant smile that Steve had been the recipient of just yesterday. 

God, he really fucked up, didn’t he?

“We got a plan?”

It was like clockwork, movements fluid and known. The three of you were slightly out of it, missions depleting in urgency and all. The last mission you had been on in the last two years, besides the ones your father sent you on, had been to a base in Prague where you ran a two-week surveillance on a doctor who was trying to recreate the super soldier serum. Even then there wasn’t much of a physical fight and you were mainly there to assist Sam and Bucky. 

“We’ll get there by 9. You’ll have to shrink down before we even pass the gates.”

Scott drafted the specifics in his notebook, taking careful notes on what he was to look for inside your father’s office. He was instructed to hack the keyboard to list the most used formations of characters, scan for fingerprints, and work through the paper files your father hadn’t yet had time to put away. Once a password was figured out, then the hacking would commence during the rehearsal dinner. 

“Y/N and I will be led through the estate by Seda, no doubt. Once you hear that we’re seated and enjoying breakfast, you can start your deep search.”

Scott added the finishing touches to his suit - upgrades from both Hank and Tony, before he passed of course. 

“Anything I should know? I’m going in blind while you guys have some experience with this crowd.”

You attached the camouflage mic to the back of your neck as you responded, “His office hallway doesn’t have cameras. Neither does the inside. You, as well as Steve and I, are under strict orders to not kill anyone.”

Scott squinted his eyes, “I wasn’t planning on doing that anyway.”

You chuckled, “These are violent people, Scott. In order to win, we need to play the part. Which means unless we say the safe word ‘widow’, you can’t intervene.”

Scott searched your face for a joke, the briefing you all had before you shipped out replaying in his head. You had mentioned Seda shot you and that your father basically hated you, but to see you serious now - it was a little unnerving. Sure, he fought aliens and faced off against some of the most evil forces in the universe. But this was family, and when it was family with the evil gene, it made everything much more horrible.

“Okay.”

You all gathered your equipment and headed down to the car. Steve safely hid the shield in the trunk, foregoing any additional weapons than those already attached to his person. He couldn’t risk Ernesto’s men randomly searching the car during breakfast. 

You were already waiting in the passenger seat when Scott gripped Steve’s arm as they finished loading the trunk. 

“You protect her, alright?”

Steve swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew Scott wasn’t doubting his ability to do so, but his trust was being enlisted. There wasn’t even a second option. 

Steve would grip the heavens by their feet and pull for the creation of even more fallen angels just for you. 

“I will.” 

     The drive to the estate was a lot less stressful this time. Only because you knew who to expect now. You wouldn’t be catching up with your sister until tomorrow, and you already had an idea what your father was scheming up. The three of you just drove in silence, Steve at the wheel and Scott in the backseat. 

You thought, maybe Steve didn’t fully regret what happened after all. Leaving in the morning was for sure a dick move, but his attitude wasn’t one of someone who would simply ‘hit it, and quit it’. You took pride in what you knew about your Captain, about Steve as a separate entity, and you always expected the best from him. 

Anyone who thought or assumed otherwise was an idiot.

Scott had shrunk down and prepared his own mics as Steve drove onto the deserted dirt road. There were dozens of cars parked outside, but it looked as if their owners were all workers. Considering the wedding was only two days away and the rehearsal dinner was tomorrow, the workers multiplied and were working overtime. Leave it to your father to make the finishing touches at the last minute. 

Once again, Seda stood outside to greet you and Steve. He looked extra chipper this morning, his aging face contorted into an almost painful smile. And you knew that whenever he smiled at you, he wasn’t harboring the greatest intentions. 

“Good to see you again!”

You slung your arm through Steve’s, unconscious to the fact that Scott stood on your shoulder and hid behind strands of hair. You responded, “Careful, you’ll get cavities with that much sweetness.”

His smile fell slightly, and he looked away to roll his eyes. “Must be contagious considering you’re so full of sugar!”

“You’re weird when you’re nice.”

“Now, I was just about to say the same thing.” Seda held his hand out to Steve, delighted in the strength of his grip. “Captain.”

Steve smirked, a dangerous glint settling in his eyes. The longer hair and beard really did make him look like the anti-Cap. “Sir. Are you joining us for breakfast?”

Seda turned to walk through the open doors. “Of course. Ernesto’s business is as much mine as it is his.”

You let out a tiny snort, “Don’t think he would agree.”

Seda rotated on his heel so quickly the sound of the squeak echoed through the vast mansion. He held his finger out at you, that famous scowl you had grown accustomed to finally making its appearance. “Bite your tongue.”

In an instant, Steve gripped your cheeks and chin with one hand, holding you still to look at Seda. He hated this. He wanted to fight them now.

While you were held in place for him, Seda stepped closer. You could feel the heat of his breath. “I carried this empire while he was dirt.”

Steve’s hand was loose, but his wild look could easily be mistaken for anger toward you. 

Seda’s eyes were cold, filled with an undeniable amount of hatred and selfishness, like he wanted to see you beg for forgiveness. No matter the countless times when any other human being would be crying for mercy, you never did. And Seda despised this skill with all his tainted soul. 

“And look where that got you. Right back in second place.”

For the second time this week, Steve wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. 

Seda’s facial muscles flinched, but he kept his composure. There were too many outside workers wandering around, instructed already to keep their mouths shut about who employed them and were to be paid under the table. With his own tongue bitten, he muttered almost achingly. “Breakfast is this way.”

Letting go of you after Seda turned back around, Steve gently massaged the sides of your chin for a few seconds as you walked. Turning your head quickly left and right and passing a room with no traceable cameras, you caught his hand and pressed your lips gently to his knuckles. Before he could truly enjoy the gentle gesture, you pulled away. And he knew you had to. You had to.

Scott took his leave, jumping onto the nearby potted plant and connecting back with Torres. 

Breakfast was served on the large patio near the west side of the estate. It overlooked a massive man-made lake, rocks circling the bank, and multiple lake chairs facing it. The estate was well hidden away in the forest, tall pine trees enveloping the illegal nature of all that was said and done. The clouds were creating a dark overcast that meant it was going to rain later, maybe soon, and it was going to be heavy. The crew outback had constructed a massive wooden canopy ‘tent’ that extended from one side of land to the other. So if it did rain on the day of the wedding, the only evidence of it would be the wetness reflecting off the soft violet lights they were just now hanging. The tables were set up, minus the chairs and wall decorations, and the staff were barely constructing the floor. 

By instinct, you had already clocked the easiest exit routes and hiding places. The warehouse near the lake looked sturdy - two windows wide enough to shoot from. Steve would have to crouch down low though, so perhaps the wooden table could serve as a temporary shield. 

There had to be a way to casually bring that shield to both the rehearsal dinner and wedding without raising red flags. 

Seda paused and excused himself. While Steve entertained the questions of some of the men casually strolling through, you reached into your pocket and pulled out some new tech you had been dying to finally use. Tony had messed around with so many personalized gadgets for everyone. Peter had his flying spiders, Clint had his flying stars and arrows, and you had your flying butterflies. Little metallic wonders with life-like wing speed that recorded its surroundings and transcribed for your report later. 

It flew gracefully, circling around the tables and even stopping on the window’s edge for a natural effect before flying near Seda and whoever he was talking to. It fluttered and settled, a small light emitting from its antennas. It would fly back once the subject chosen finished speaking. 

While you waited, you wandered. You hadn’t really explored this estate since you were a child but from what you remembered, there was always something new to discover. As a kid, you had asked whoever was present, ‘Is this real?’, ‘Was it alive before?’, ‘How old is this?’.

Roman busts, paintings hanging and stored alike, the ivory tusks. Didn’t seem like your father was collecting much these days. Dust was settled and undisturbed and the stuffed animals needed a serious scrub. You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if your father had stashed away the damn tesseract at one point or another. 

“Oh, yeeesss,” you whispered, scurrying to the trunk hidden below the pile of discarded tablecloths and curtains. No one else ventured to these rooms, and although there were priceless items stashed away here, they normally functioned as the children's playrooms. There was more money to be made selling drugs than selling ancient artifacts. 

Just like many of the other rooms, this room was basically abandoned. No evidence of swiped fingers or anything. Your attention was drawn to the black trunk, scratched up on the left side and lock practically useless. If you remembered correctly, your iPod shuffle and middle school diary should be in here. 

As corny as that sounded, perhaps the diary had something inside you could work with and use to help aid in the mission. 

The trunk creaked and moaned as you lifted the lid open. You blew the excess of cobwebs away, scanning the corners quickly for any live spiders. Just in case. 

You did, in fact, find the diary. But only the first ten pages were filled out and dated, detailing the story, and quote, ‘2011, what a stupid number! Can’t anything but violence happen?’

Yes young Y/N, you thought to yourself, 2012 was one hell of a year and infinitely worse than stupid little 2011. 

The mountain of miscellaneous items was astounding, swirling up the childhood emotions you seriously missed. There was just something about random, mix-matched, old items that made you giddy. 

When Shield returned Steve’s belongings that had been locked in storage or in the museum when he was pronounced KIA, you were the one bouncing up and down behind him as he opened the boxes. He’d inspect the old watch, pencil set, photographs, clothing item, whatever and then pass it over to you. And he’d pretend to act annoyed by your interest, but the fact that you wanted to learn more about Steve and his life before the war - it was humbling. 

‘Hey, Y/N. You want to know how much porn I just found on Seda’s personal laptop?’

Your whole body was overcome by shivers. You nudged the mic to turn it up louder. “Scott, what the fuck?”

He tried to contain his laughter. ‘My mission is to hunt, gather, and hack. You’ll be pleased to know I got more than just their internet history.’

“Ew.”

A small, red velvet box shoved in the upper left hand corner caught your attention. It’s engraving showed none other than ‘Oxford University’ and that was enough to conclude this too was stolen. You chuckled at how ridiculous this all was. 

Believe it or not, the most legal things in the estate were the stuffed exotic animals and tusks of ivory that had been collected before the nationwide bans. 

This small box contained a few dozen coins from ancient Rome, all of different faces and years. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you mumbled, finger-fishing through the box. You made a mental note to instruct your team to also seize and catalog everything that was stolen here. Give Fury more of a headache. 

The figurehead on one of the coins made you pause for a second. The artwork was not as professional as much larger engravings found on the other coins or artifacts, but the features were proud. It was of a man, curly hair and beard to match, with a prominent and strong nose. If you squint hard enough, the hair and beard were Steve’s, absolutely as he had it groomed right now. Last time Steve had grown his hair out this long he was on the run. Guess he really missed the rugged look. 

But that nose. Strong and long and definitely punched to the brim many times before. The last person to set it had been Clint - and the reset had left it looking slightly crooked. Just like the man on the coin. 

“What a beak you got on you, Rogers,” you smiled. You shut the box after pocketing the coin. Making sure everything else was in place, you exited and checked your mic for any unusual activity. You could hear Steve casually speaking and Scott humming under his breath. 

Your little butterfly was spinning in a large circle until it spotted you. It reattached itself to your belt discreetly. 

Seda marched back, looking more annoyed than when he had first greeted you. “Shall we?”

Similar to how he was situated back in his office, comfortable and relaxed in his element, your father sat closest to the lake around the round table, no doubt enjoying the breeze aimed in his direction. The table was full of various foods - mostly fruit and drinks - but there were sides of meats and bread hidden in the pile. 

Ernesto looked like an innocent old man bathed in the colorful array. He was eighty-two (if you count those five years, then he’s only seventy-seven), and it wasn’t just the fruit that made him seem innocent - with the absence of a scowl or a gun in his unbelievably steady hand, he looked like every old man on the planet. An old man with a secret. 

“It’s not everyday you get to dine with the Captain America!”

Already his voice annoyed Steve. But as eloquent as ever, he responded lightly. “It’s an honor, sir.”

Your father sipped his juice, waiting until you were both seated to continue. “So polite, I remember how it used to be.”

Steve shrugged, “The good ole’ days.”

“Exactly. You see, I’m hoping to bring those good ole’ days back.”

“Gonna run for office?” you quipped, reaching over to pop a grape into your mouth. 

Keeping his eyes trained on Steve, your father retorted. “Your jokes aren’t that funny, Y/N.”

“I think I’m pretty funny,” you mumbled through a funny frown. 

The sooner you get some valuable information, the sooner you could leave. At least, that’s what Steve had been reciting in his head as he bit his tongue at your attempt at being funny. “What did you have in mind?”

Ernesto stretched, motioning for the men behind him to pass him some documents from a nearby table. He passed them to Steve, completely ignoring you. “You see, I’m thinking of expanding business. Not just here in the U.S and in Mexico, but across the Atlantic.”

You resisted the urge to sneak a peek at the documents. So you opted to keep him talking. “Woah, you’re not thinking of toppling White, are you?”

Ernesto scoffed, “You think I have a death wish? No, I’m thinking of joining forces.”

You played dumb. “What?”

Seda squinted, stepping forward and gripping your wrist mid-air, evidently stopping you from popping another grape into your mouth. Steve turned his head to stare at Seda with a real and deep grimace, basically instructing him to let go of you as soon as possible. Acting like an asshole when your father was the instigator was one thing, and he hated that he had to bend over for him. But Seda wasn’t in charge, nor would he ever be again, and his hand on you didn’t have to be tolerated. Yes, he knew to keep up the asshole act, but obsessive and protective boyfriend fit the bill as well, he assumed. 

Reluctantly, Seda got the message and let you go. He answered your question after a few awkward seconds, “Expanding into Europe means we dominate the world. Everyone knows that. Europe is the epicenter.”

Oblivious to the whole stare down, you resumed your questioning. “And we come in, where?”

“Your missions - they take you across the ocean, yes?” your father chimed in. 

“Sometimes, sir. We’re away pretty often.” Steve answered. 

“Then that’s perfect. All those opportunities to smuggle my product on your company planes.”

You scrunched your eyebrows in deep thought, almost like you were doing the math in your head. “I doubt the quinjet would pass a weight inspection, Father.”

Ernesto raised his hands in mock offense. “Your Captain here should be able to pull some strings, no?”

Hiding his discomfort, Steve shrugged like it was no big deal. “It would certainly be a difficult task but we can pull through.”

No. Steve has never handled the product, he has never seen the product being moved, he has never signed off on anything pertaining to said product. Fury did - Fury set up everything, he made sure to keep Steve out of it, he protected the shield, he protected Steve. On your word.

Ernesto knew you were the one handling it. He knew Steve wasn’t anywhere near it since you made it abundantly clear that he only green lit the passage routes. 

He was doing this on purpose. Testing Steve’s loyalty in a way. Tying any Avenger’s gadgets to the smuggling, especially transportation methods that were rarely, if ever checked when entering a foreign country, was a violation.  And this violation would then make every Avenger a drug smuggler - a real one - and no one, not even Torres could back you up.  

Blinded by this possible reality, you countered with the best argument you had. “He’s ‘Captain America’. Which means he stays within our borders.”

Ernesto paused mid-drink, a grin forming. He stared at you in surprise, “I’m sorry, did you just give me an order?”

You backtracked, breath still steady. Steve tried to mask his worry by also drinking. “No, I’m trying to help you. What about Ramirez?”

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

It was silent for a long while. Steve knew better than to come between the uncomfortable glares you and your father were sharing. Ernesto’s answer was confirmation enough for your proposed theory.

He ventured a glance at Seda, who was already looking at him. Confusion rattled him to the bone, but before he could dissect any possible assumption as to why, your father snapped his fingers. 

Seda moved too quickly. He always followed Ernesto’s orders like they were holy commandments, but he had seriously wanted this. He was the muscle after all. 

Seda picked you up out of your seat with the force of one hand, fingers gripped under your chin and squishing your cheeks painfully. With his other hand, he pushed your back forward and held you down on the table. The impact of your body had shattered the plate beneath your chest. But that pain was minimal compared to the elbow digging in between your shoulder blades. 

Almost as quickly as Seda had pounced, Steve was standing. The sound of every gun on the patio cocking rang in his ears, but god forbid that be louder than the sudden squeal that had left your mouth from the force of your assault.  

“See? I give the orders,” Ernesto said, still sitting casually in his seat. “Now, test me again.”

      “There are worse ways to go.”

Natasha was always so calm during these types of situations. A blank face that disguised the true fright she really felt, a mask in other words. But Steve knew the only reason she did that was for the benefit of those around her, regular civilian or superhero alike. She would always keep such a calm demeanor, voice steady and eyes boring into one’s soul as if to transfer whatever inner peace she could find. 

When he had found out Bucky was alive, unresponsive and an empty shell of a man HYDRA had made him, he crumbled into the panic attack he had long awaited. Being thrust into the 21st century without a lick of his past was one thing. But to barely start getting used to this new world, only to be handed the most crazy plot twist of his life, well, it was enough to destroy whatever progress he thought he made. 

And while he rocked himself through it, massive shoulders poking his jawline uncomfortably as he curled in on himself, Natasha had simply laid a cup of tea in front of him and retreated to the other corner of the room, no words exchanged. Good, because he didn’t want to talk about it. 

“Is everyone on?”

The planes were being loaded at the fastest rate they could, the only remaining Avengers on land being him, Natasha, and Clint. From what he could see.

“I gotta go get Banner. You head on over to Clint.”

And they functioned like that for the next few minutes, grabbing civilians along the way and praying they themselves would make it to one of those planes. The sudden shower of bullets crushed the hope of that, and Steve stared down at Pietro with an immense guilt about not getting there sooner. 

Losing a teammate, even if that teammate was recruited just a day ago, always hits hard. But they were the Avengers, and if any comic book or superhero movie had been right, then no one ever really died! Yeah, fat chance. 

Steve counted as many heads as he could. He saw Natasha off to the side, and Clint had just stumbled on, and Y/N was-

Wait, where were you?

Steve grabbed his shield and hooked it onto his back, running off the plane and back onto the floating land, ignoring Clint’s yells of ‘get the fuck back here, Rogers!’

“Does anyone have eyes on Y/N?”

The responses were no help; Rhodey had circled the city twice over searching for you, and there was no sign. Maybe you were with Wanda, maybe you were on another plane, maybe you were with Thor and he promised to pick you up and protect you once he catapulted himself - 

‘I’m gonna need you to get your ass back on that plane, Capsicle,’ Tony yelled, interrupting himself as he made painful contact with falling debris. 

Steve was on autopilot, scared out of his damn mind. He never wanted this job, he never wanted to continue working for the government, it was just war after war after war. He just wanted to find Bucky, he just wanted to settle down with a fucking cat or something, he just wanted to live the life he missed out on. But he was also hell bent on saving everyone he could. A sick satisfaction of using the serum’s gifts for what he was built for, a science project and weapon of war. He hated it, he wanted to shrivel back down to his ninety-pound self and pay a goddamn penny for a movie screening again. 

But he had a job to do and he was one of the few people on earth who could actually accomplish it. So, no - Steve will not quit when people need him. He’ll just have to bear it some other way; belt in between his teeth as he clenches down. Because Steve would literally destroy himself for any of his teammates until he was nothing but a pile of discarded remains. 

“What the hell are you still doing on land, Captain?”

He whipped his head to the side and found you, holding a frightened looking dog in your arms, smudges of rubble covering your cheeks and bodysuit. “Oh my god.”

You stomped over to him, the dog clutched to your chest and a tiny limp in your step. “Answer me, Rogers!”

Steve only stared, blinking quickly until an invisible boot kicked him back into gear. His voice was high-pitched as he screamed at you. “You went back for the dog?”

Your face contorted, “Of course I went back for the fucking dog!”

A ridiculous thing, an utter masterpiece of work you were, a vice that gripped him by the throat and would always press down tighter until he was gasping for breath. You went back for the damn dog, and he was about to break down crying not knowing where you were. He just lost one teammate - he couldn’t lose another.

“Well, let’s go!”

Your voice seemed to shock him back into Captain America mode, and as the city leveled and the ground started to break apart, he hoisted you up and onto the plane while making the leap himself. 

     At this point, Steve would blindly agree to anything. If it meant pulling you out of this, he’d do it. He found himself negotiating instantly, like any other hostage situation he had dealt with. “I’m sure our planes can handle a few extra pounds.”

Made sense for Steve to agree - wasn’t like it was going to happen anyway. But the mere thought of having him take the fall for this entire mission going sideways, well, it had ignited the stupid part of your brain. You could have blown this whole mission. You could have blown it all because your father had been doing what he does best: taunting you. And you let it happen. 

“I have already sent word to White that your Captain will be working with him now, too. Anything to topple Ramirez from the top three.���

You lifted your head to glare at your father. “Why didn’t I get a say? I’m as influential as you two!” You grit your teeth. “You did this without consulting us first. So, then what was this?”

Seda applied the full force of his weight, his elbow now pinching into the muscle and causing you to see black spots. You tried to restrain your scream, but it escaped. A few birds left their perch, flying away from the high-pitched noise.

Steve saw red. Bursting flames that climbed and licked up to formless heights and blurred his vision to the point he was pre-serumed, standing small and physically weak again. And pre-serum Steve would happily accept the punches he had coming if he dare intervene. But even if this red was bolstering hot and clawing at his flesh, stepping in now would mean chaos. He couldn’t do anything, he was restricted, strapped down by your own rule, and helplessly watching as your face twisted in pain. 

He felt his heart tearing in two, and yet his face remained calm. Calm and collected. 

“See this as a means to inform you.”

If Seda were to push down again, you figured you’d go out fighting. “A coup? Father, you shouldn’t have.”

“Do we have a deal?” 

If he hooked his arm under the left side of the table and threw it at the correct angle, he would blindside your father and throw Seda off balance, allowing you to take him down. But there were men posted to both his sides and behind him, guns already cocked like they had suspected Captain America to react negatively. 

Scott had to be hearing everything, the poor guy, but you had also instructed him to let you be thrown around like a ragdoll, that you were used to it. Knowing Scott, he would honor your word as scripture for the sake of the mission.

Steve couldn’t stand to look at you in pain anymore. A small part of him wanted to yell, ‘Well stop talking and he’ll get the hell off you!’, like it was ultimately your fault, but he swallowed that shallow thought and bargained instead. “I’ll be needing a copy of your word. For insurance purposes.”

If there was one thing Ernesto respected, it was a man with his own personal agenda. “I knew I liked him, Y/N. A man who knows what he wants and how to make sure it lasts.”

You reached over discreetly, finding Steve’s hand to squeeze tightly. He squeezes back.

The next few minutes were a blur, really. You passed it with pinched eyes and a few uncomfortable moans as Steve and your father wrote up a formal agreement. 

Seda removed himself after Steve signed. You tried not to think too much of it; the contract can be considered void. Torres would look into it. Steve will not become truly involved. 

Your father excused himself and Seda after the pen left paper, leaving the both of you alone.

Steve wanted to hold you, to shield you with his own flesh and bone, to remind you he was on your side. That he would always be on your side. 

The men who escorted you were deep in their own conversations, guns still raised but minds momentarily distracted. So he reached for your hand, an involuntary chuckle escaping him as he saw Scott’s miniature self hiking up the arm he had just grabbed. Your grip was loose, like your mind was elsewhere. 

You all entered the car and buckled up without alerting the men of any wrongdoings. Scott waited until you drove past the cameras and the estate grew smaller in his eyes to return to his normal size. 

They were both worried, eyes meeting in the mirror as if to communicate it. You were so silent, so still, simply looking out the window. Their voices were slightly distorted, far away calls for your attention and you were drowning, suffocating and forgetting that when caught in a riptide, you need to swim sideways and not directly to land-

One quick sob was all it took for Steve to check his mirrors and turn the car into the crowd of pine trees, burying the three of you in their depth and providing temporary solace from the outside world. Your throat burned and itched with the need to cry harder, but you stopped yourself. 

This had happened before. You’ve been subdued and taunted before. Hell, worse has happened to you and you always seemed to hold in the tears until you were in the comfort of your own room or in Natasha’s arms. 

But there was no single room for you to run off to and there was no more Natasha-

It took a moment to register that your seatbelt had been unbuckled, Steve had exited the vehicle, and Scott was already tugging you by the underarms and into the backseat. You were then squished between the two men, with Steve manually tilting your head to rest on the expanse of his chest and Scott with his arms wrapped around your waist to mimic a massive bear hug. 

They let you ride out whatever broken sobs your body produced. There were few tears and your breakdown was amateur at best, but you still broke. There was no point in trying to diminish its importance. You were here, and you had both fresh and dry tear streaks, and it was important to feel. 

At least that’s what Steve had been reciting for the past two minutes as he ran his fingers through your hair. 

You sniffed and wiped your cheeks, rolling your eyes at yourself. “I’m sorry, this is really embarrassing.”

Scott leaned back to stare at you in pure disbelief, “You have every right to scream, to cry, to tear this world apart. You have a right to feel.”

You wanted to believe him. God, you wanted to believe him. 

If Scott wasn’t here, perhaps Steve would allow himself to cry with you. His masculinity was intact, thank you very much, but Scott didn’t need to console two people at once. So he swallowed his pain, secured it back into the safe within his heart that was specifically constructed for you, and held you tighter. 

Out of nowhere, Scott patted your thigh multiple times like a child begging for attention. “We need comfort food. We’ve all had a rough day and it’s not even two o’clock yet! Nothing some french fries and burgers can’t fix!”

It had slipped your mind how little you had actually gotten to eat. Just a few sips of coffee and some grapes. Wasn’t your fault there were more important things to focus on. 

“Can we get, like, a massive tray of fries?” you smiled. 

Scott’s eyes lit up. 

Lots of things are so simple. Or, in theory. Boiling water is simple. Doing laundry. Pumping gas. 

But then there are those simple things that are just not so accessible to everyone. Like, it was simple for Bruce to learn and teach theoretical physics. It was simple for Peter to catch a bus with his bare hands. It was simple for Thor to call upon thunder and lightning and for Loki to cause some mischief. 

For Steve, eating his body weight in fries was simple. 

For Scott, opening the ketchup packets without his thumbs sliding was simple. 

For you, stealing Steve’s fries was simple. 

Maybe because he didn’t stop you. 

     It’s crazy how just a few hours with some close friends made every problem in the world seem nonexistent. You were replenished, in a sense, ready to put any embarrassment and self-hatred behind you in preparation for the rehearsal dinner tomorrow. Everything up until now was child’s play - now, there were no restraints. You were instructed to strike on the wedding day as that was the day the shipment was moving, but if anything truly dangerous occurred tomorrow, Fury had given the green light to shoot.

It would have been a blessing to just have one more quiet night in, maybe enjoy some more special alone time with Steve. There was a conversation to be had, feelings to be discussed, an argument to start. There needed to be screaming, and crying, and eye rolling - all needed to happen. 

Yes, that would have been great. 

Steve launched the shield across the room the second Scott pushed open the door, the crack of bone and vibranium sounding off. Scott had already unclicked his gun safety, weapon pointed directly at the intruder - who had collapsed to the floor with a bleeding shin clutched in between his hands. You didn’t even realize your gun was also out and cocked. Instinct - skill you had acquired from Natasha and Rhodey. 

Sometimes you wish you could forget how to hold a gun altogether. 

Ramirez was on the floor, having only released a loud howl when the shield connected. He just panted lowly, eyes squeezed shut. He desperately tried to raise his hands. 

“Please… don’t shoot.”

Steve stepped forward, shield braced and covering both you and Scott. You stayed near the door in case Ramirez had any other friends visiting. 

You turned on your mic and hoped it patched through. “Widow.” 

“How did you get past security? How did you know which hotel we were at?”

Ramirez looked over at you, eyes pleading for help from Steve’s questions or from the physical pain. You really couldn’t tell. 

“Answer the questions, Omar.” You used his first name - that told him you were serious. 

“Someone took their smoke break.” He breathed in uneven cycles. “I followed you the first day you arrived.”

Completely baffled, you looked to Scott for some answer he clearly didn’t have. 

“That’s not possible. Our people swept the area, we had eyes on you and-”

Ramirez interrupted shyly, “You had eyes on me. Not my connections.”

“Your men were followed, too.”

Although he was groaning, he still responded as softly as possible. “Connections, mija. They aren’t all a part of the mob.”

Every guest who checked in and out of the hotel were screened for that week. Every employee was vetted. 

“If you’re wondering who it was, I’ll save you the time and say it was simply a passerby who didn’t even enter the hotel. Just followed, then made a U-turn.”

Scott scoffed and lowered his gun, “If it really was that easy…”

Steve kneeled to be eye-level with Ramirez. “Then that means Ernesto already knows about Scott and Torres.”

As quickly as Steve declared this, Ramirez shook his head. “No! I’m not on Ernesto’s side anymore. Haven’t been for a long time!”

“Prove it.”

Ramirez stared at you, eyes pleading for trust. He didn’t look all that intimidating. Short black hair, wrinkles minimal and clothes well-pressed, slim and dark skin clear of any blemishes - he looked like every guy who you would see at the bank. He remained pleading even after Steve patted him down. 

Still kneeling and leg slightly extended to relieve some of the pain, he started to explain himself. “I know when people are acting.”

“What?”

“When you pressed the gun to her chin,” he motioned his hand between you and Steve, “you held her hand.”

Lowering your gun and dropping your shoulders, you released a deep sigh. “You were behind us.”

He agreed, “I was behind you.” He inspected the room with a small smile, glancing at all three of you in amusement. Once his sight rested on Steve, he tipped his chin up and smirked. “I heard you could pick up Thor’s hammer.”

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, annoyed, and turned to check the hallway. Your mic was muffled, but you swore you could make out the voices of Torres and Sam.

“Any man who can do that is good, right?”

Scott nodded, “According to legend-”

Steve blinked at him, “Scott.”

“That little gesture of care, plus the cell phone videos I saw you in from two years ago-” Ramirez started, but was interrupted. 

Steve squinted, “Saw us where?”

“The phone videos on Youtube.”

You stepped back into the room, stuttering over your words. “What phone videos? Be clearer.”

“You defended that child. The - the spider child,” he pointed at Steve, wincing as he shifted his leg. “And you got into that bar fight, busted someone's head into the floor.”

“No, PR made sure they were deleted. Hill said there was no trace of them-”

“My two youngest daughters were fifteen at the time. They knew about the video the minute it aired. They saved it.”

Scott sighed, shaking his head at the memory of having to bail both you and Sam out of jail. It was a nice turn of the tables, though. “...We didn’t factor in the possibility of teenagers screen recording?”

Ramirez chuckled, “Seems not.”

     It was certainly an eventful night for PR. A complete disaster they had to cover up and twist for the media. There were four Avengers mixed up in this chaos, and since the perpetrators didn’t quite succeed in kicking your asses, PR might just finish the job for them. 

On one side of town, Steve was responding to an urgent call from Happy asking if he was in the vicinity. Peter had been visiting a study group in Brooklyn, careful as ever, but still stumbled upon bullies. Steve lived close and instead of ringing the whole team, Happy put his trust in the person Tony would have also called. 

It was a scene he hoped he would never have to witness again. To see such cruelty months after the final battle, a battle everyone knew the kid played a major part in, it tore Steve apart shred by miserable shred.

Peter was crouched against an alley wall, shielding his face with his arms as five boys around his age pounded away. He appeared to be clutching his phone, the line still connected with Happy, and he was begging them to stop. 

Steve had never run so fast. He dodged a few cars and strollers along the way, mind fogged with desperation and anger. He now knew how Bucky felt when he saved Steve from all those alley fights back in the day.

It didn’t even register in his mind that he had pulled at least two of the boys away and threw them into the opposite wall, or that he had clutched one's throat so tight that Peter’s thumbs were now digging under his clenched palm with the plea of ‘Cap, let him go!’.  

He dropped the boy, no more than seventeen, on the ground and stepped away to inspect Peter. A busted lip, what looked to be two purpling eyes, torn clothing, and bruises along his ribcage that showed through the new holes in his shirt. The five boys all stood and cowered backwards. 

They shouted and name-called, spit on the floor and taunted the two superheroes. It wasn’t until Peter leaned into Steve’s chest and pushed him back that Steve realized one of the boys was recording the whole thing. 

Against his better judgement, he let them go. There wasn't anything beneficial to be done besides file a police report - not that it would do much anyway. 

He took Peter back to his apartment and called Happy himself. He stitched the nasty cut on the kid’s forehead. He fed him some soup and crackers. He gave him some spare clothes that had shrunk in the washer. Peter’s smile was so broken as he interrupted the silence while Steve cleaned away the dry blood, a simple explanation of ‘I obviously couldn’t fight back’. 

And fuck, Steve knew the kid was right. 

On the other side of town, the night had started pretty nicely. Two beers in and your conversation with Sam was littered with constant laughter and childhood stories. The bar wasn’t that crowded for a Thursday night, just a few regulars and a small office party.

Your conversation was interrupted by two men who had clearly been holding their tongue. First they harassed you for being Avengers and destroying the city every other week - which granted, was a pretty reasonable argument. You let that one slide. But then they hassled you on who you employed: an ex-con who was clearly only abusing his influence on Hank Pym, a mental woman who took an entire town hostage because she was obviously evil at heart and a witch (‘fuck her children, what about mine?!’), and a teenager who had murdered a true superhero who was only trying to warn and rid the world of him. 

You and Sam remained seated, jaws clenched and hands wrapped tightly around your drinks. If you ignored them long enough, they would go away. The bartender will surely throw them out, they were becoming too rowdy. You were better than them and there was absolutely no need to freak out over words. They were just words. 

“I say we head on over to Queens and pay that sweet Aunt of his a visit!”

Sam let out a quick and prepared sigh, “Shit.”

He threw the first punch, launching himself at the biggest of the two men and hitting the ground. You leaped over the bar counter and tackled the second guy before he could join Sam’s fight. He was clearly caught off guard, arms fumbling wildly as he tried and failed to keep his balance. But your sudden momentum caused his decline, and you were hammering your fist down onto his face like your life depended on it. 

Sam quickly took his gun from his pocket and threw it across the room. He couldn’t risk either of the guys getting a hold of it. He rolled onto all fours before sweeping his leg to trip the guy as he attempted to stand. He shuffled and grabbed one of his arms, legs wrapping themselves over the dude’s shoulders and squeezing his neck. If there was one thing Natasha had taught her friends, it was how to subdue a man with just the thighs. 

The brawl lasted maybe a good two minutes before other customers stepped in and separated you. Out of anger, you kept kicking and struggling. It wasn’t until the doors burst open and police drew their batons that you realized you royally fucked up. Everything was eerily silent and out of pure personality, you scooted away from the remnants of the fight as discreetly (but most obviously) as you could. 

You were booked, charges later dropped. Sam’s mugshot showcased a thin smile, like he knew the record would be expunged within the hour. Yours displayed a cocked eyebrow and slightly pursed lips. 

Yeah, PR didn’t have a nice night.

     “What about the videos, Omar?”

Ramirez gave you a sincere look, “No one on Ernesto’s team risks their reputation like that. You have his rage, but he doesn’t have your morality. Save the next question, I know what you two were fighting about.”

Even if you did get caught and the videos went viral, there was no way the world could know your connections. “The world doesn’t know about my family connections. Fury made sure to never input it into Shield’s database.”

“Imagine how terrified Ernesto was when the Russian spilled all their secrets.”

“Natasha,” Steve asserted. “Her name was Natasha.”

Ramirez bowed his head, “Natasha. I’m sorry.” He turned back to you. “You were barely starting out when that happened, no?” 

You were getting impatient with no backup. “Your point?”

“You’re working against him, aren’t you? You’ve always been working against him.”

You raised your gun again and stalked toward him. “Choose your next words carefully.”

Again, he raised his hands in defense. “I’m not with him. He doesn’t know I’m here, neither does White.” 

There was a long pause as you all pondered over his admission. Even though you vouched for him just yesterday, there was still so much to consider before jumping to his conclusion. “I think they’re plotting to kill me.”

Steve chuckled under his breath, “We know.”

Ramirez reacted like he was just slapped in the face. “You know?”

After a long train of thought, Scott interjected with his own idea. “That plot of land you bought - it’s not for drugs, is it?”

“I mean, half of it is for drugs.”

“Omar,” you demanded.

“Yes, yes. But the other half is entirely unrelated.”

Scott motioned for him to continue, “Enlighten us.”

And the small, proud smile on his face gave you the feeling he really was telling the truth. “It’s a refugee camp.”

Steve stuttered, “Drugs and refugees?”

Ramirez pushed himself toward the nearby chair and hoisted himself up. “I know it sounds crazy. Trust me, I know.” He let out a pained hiss. “But the Mexican government has already approved it. Well, if you can call it a government. They’re one of the few who still haven’t recovered from everyone coming back.”

“So, what? Are you making the refugees work for you?” you questioned. 

Ramirez widened his eyes. “What? No, no! The drugs are for income. For food, shelter, medicine, todo lo demas!”

Steve huffed, “Let me guess. The drugs aren’t real and anyone who finds out the truth will turn a blind eye.”

“Exactly.”

It was obvious why Ramirez wanted someone to know about the possible scheme. But why that someone happened to be you and your team, you honestly didn’t know. By logic, if you had been playing your father all this time, wasn’t it reasonable to assume you had or continue to play Ramirez?

“And you’re telling us for what? To save your ass?”

Ramirez countered with a question of his own, “Why are you here? After what Seda did to you, I can’t believe it.”

“Stop, just stop.” You were about done with all of this.

“You’re here to arrest us, right? I’m assuming I’m included.”

You raised your head, trying desperately to depict true regret in the stare you gave him. “I’m sorry.”

He sadly shook his head, “Don’t apologize. I know why you’re doing it.” He turned to Steve. “I’m just asking for a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

“Protect my daughter.”

Your jaw dropped lightly as you heard his selfless favor. “Your daughter?”

“Her name is on the deed. I think Ernesto wants my land.”

“And once you’re taken out, she’s the only thing standing in his way.”

“Either he marries her-” he took a long pause to breath in deep. “Or he kills her.”

“Take her off of it?” you stated with confidence since it was more of a suggestion than a question. 

A deep frown etched into his face. “She’s somewhere in Asia right now. I need her signature. And all the forgers haven’t called me back.” He sighed and reached down to grip his bloody shin again. “She won’t make it back in time for the legal route.”

Steve nodded in understanding. He surprised you by setting the shield down on the couch. “Then we won’t let anything happen.”

“Promise me.”

You started to express remorse about the situation but were immediately cut off. “We aren’t in the business of making pro-”

“We promise.” 

You turned your head sharply, eyes round and mouth dropped. It was all you could muster up to show Steve your shock. He ignored your judgement, even if he did just break one of the top ten rules on the ‘what not to do as a superhero!’ list. 

Finally, uniformed officers scrambled into the room with their weapons drawn. Torres led them, hair all disheveled and cheeks pink.  “I’m so sorry. The connection was hacked and the cameras were delayed-”

You moved to stand near him, “It’s okay. Hey, we’re okay.”

Torres kept eye contact with you for only a second more, not really accepting that his tardiness should be casually swept under the rug like that. He immediately signaled for his officers to arrest Ramirez. “Get on your knees.”

Ramirez raised his hands and tried to stand. “With all due respect, your Captain might’ve broken my leg. I can’t kneel again or else I might cry.”

You tugged at Torres’s jacket and whispered. “Joaquin, just take him in for questioning. But you gotta release him-”

His eyes rounded. “What? We finally got him!”

“You have to release him. He has to be at the wedding.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered after a long pause and internal struggle. 

Just like that, Torres and his officers hoisted Ramirez up and dragged him from the room. For him to risk coming here, with no backup (according to security cameras and his word) and trusting his gut that you weren’t dirty - he must have been telling some truth. Steve followed Torres out, leaving you and Scott to report back to Sam and Bucky. 

Steve had only made it down the hallway when Ramirez stumbled into the wall. “Stop here, please.”

Steve was immediately defensive. “I’m not going to apologize for protecting my team.”

Ramirez didn’t seem to mind that he would be having trouble walking at the wedding. Granted he didn’t play a major role in the actual wedding, but he still needed to be present during the shipment transport. He inwardly thanked the fact the rehearsal dinner was only for close family. “Captain. Joaquin, is it? I know you heard everything I said. Mexico is your homeland. Your people.”

Torres allowed Ramirez to lean on the wall without his help. “I know my roots.”

“I wasn’t lying about the refugee camp. And I know you’ve done a lot in that area of work.”

“How do you-” Torres stammered, eyes flashing to Steve with worry. 

“Mijo, I have connections all over the world. And because I’m not an evil son of a bitch, I tend to keep them.”

Torres looked from Steve to Ramirez debating on whether to entertain this conversation any longer. But if training taught him anything, it was that if the suspect is talking, keep him talking. He motioned for his officers to leave them. 

“What are you getting at?”

“Ernesto knows about the camp. He knows the size of land. He knows my connections. He will kill me for it.” 

Steve mumbled, “Ernesto doesn’t seem like he’s much into the business of helping the less fortunate.”

Ramirez takes a grand leap here, Steve thinks, because the next words out of his mouth completely blindside him. It seemed like even saying them also left a bad taste in the criminal’s mouth. “You have to swear not to tell Y/N.”

Stepping forward and looking down at the injured man, Steve had to restrain himself from yelling his response. “Excuse me?”

“We can’t let her know right now.”

Torres held the same expression as Steve.

“You expect me to keep a secret from my partner? About her own father?”

“For the sake of your mission - yes, I know you’re planning on intercepting the shipment during the wedding - you cannot tell her until the day of the wedding.”

Steve hates that his reasoning is valid.

“Can’t tell her what?”

“The shipment isn’t a ‘what’. It’s ‘who’.”

“A hostage?” Torres almost yells because this changes the landscape, the game, the whole entire mission. 

“Multiple.”

“No, he’s not - he can’t be,” Torres is stuttering now, phone in his hand and about a dozen numbers he needs to call. 

Still, Ramirez seems like he’s telling the truth. Or at least, that’s what his body language tells Steve. “I would not lie about this.” 

Ramirez takes a deep breath before hanging his head in what looks like shame. “Ernesto is planning to kill me, marry or kill my daughter, and use the land to traffic humans.”

It immediately clicks with Steve. The reason why Ramirez was being edged out, the reason why your father wouldn’t tell you where the shipment was currently located, the reason business was going to boom in Europe. 

Ramirez continued, “Drugs are big business, Captain. But the sale of human lives…”

“The shipment - where is it?” Steve asked. 

“He wouldn’t tell me or White. That’s why we have to wait until the wedding. We can’t risk-”

Torres ended a phone call Steve hadn’t even known the kid had been on. He hooked Ramirez’s arm around his shoulders. “Okay. Let’s get out of here.”

Ramirez accepted the help, limping a few steps down the hallway before turning back to Steve. “Trust me when I say I know your partner, Captain. She can’t know right now. She’d kill him.”

But wasn’t that what you all wanted?

Flustered and quite overwhelmed with everything that had happened this morning and afternoon, Steve took a few minutes in the quiet hallway. 

There wasn’t much for him to do. Except set up security - because if there was one thing Steve was definitely going to do, it was see this whole mission through. 

The rest of the team back home would be briefed in the next few hours. And since Torres would be giving the briefing, everyone would know that this was a major secret kept from you. It would eat away at everyone, especially Steve. 

Digging into his pockets for his burner phone, he dialed the one number he thought you would be satisfied by.

“Maribel, hey. It’s Steve Rogers. I need a favor.”

     It wasn’t hard for Steve to conceal secrets. He was trained in code, intercepted Nazi messages during the war, and negotiated the safe return of hostages more times than he could count. 

Not telling you this would perhaps bite him in the ass in the long run, and there would most certainly be a dreaded argument in his future. But when he truly thought about it and what it could possibly mean if you seriously went out of your way to end this mission quicker than it was planned - the best possible choice was to keep this secret. 

Either he could tell you right now and have you do with it what you will, or he could tell you on the day of the wedding when all bets are off and the mission could be a success. 

That’s all the both of you have ever wanted, this he knows for sure. Getting rid of these people, getting rid of your father with help from the Avengers and their close connections, was worth more than a petty argument with the top crime boss who would never change his ways. It was best to stick it out, and tell you when the time was right. 

Because he will tell you. He promises himself that. 

After discussing the day and the rest of the plan over video chat, it was concluded that Sam and Bucky would be flying out a day earlier than planned. Having Ramirez simply waltz into the hotel when someone was having their regular smoke break was much too insane to ignore, and the more backup you guys had tomorrow and the next, the better. 

Scott took his leave after triple-checking if you were alright. He even offered to have a couple drinks with you down at the bar. You declined, excuse being that you would drink tomorrow at the dinner. 

Shrugging off your jacket and shirt was more painful than you hoped. It felt like someone had punched you with all their strength smack-dab in the middle of your fucking spine. Which, come to think of it, kind of happened? The pressure Seda applied was meant to subdue in the most awkward and painful of ways. He was trained to do so. Still, removing your bra should have been a simple task and instead it hurt like a bitch. 

The warm water from the shower relaxed the strained muscles as best as it could, and you only suffered minimally while applying your shampoo and conditioner. It was the hair drying and brushing of the hair that would prove difficult. 

Giving up halfway, you opened the bathroom door and peeked through, hoping Steve decided to stay in for the night. He was simply lounging on his bed, back pressed against the headboard as he watched Finding Nemo on Disney Junior. He was already dressed for bed.

“Steve?”

He glanced at you, worry etched on his face as he took in your embarrassed expression. “What is it?”

You opened the door fully, pajamas already on and a wet towel in your hand. You blushed madly. “Could you help me dry my hair? It hurts when I raise my arms.”

Steve was out of bed the second he heard the word ‘help’. “How bad is it? We can always fly in Dr. Cho to get you checked out-”

You giggled, passing him the hotel hair dryer. “I’ll just pop some advil every few hours and annoy you for a massage before tomorrow’s dinner. That sound good?”

He didn’t want to agree. If you were actually in severe pain, it wasn’t helpful to you or the mission. He cursed himself for not relieving you of Seda’s elbow sooner. 

“If you say so.”

You turned back to the mirror and gripped the counter, fingers tapping away as Steve grabbed the essentials. He used one of the hand towels to squeeze the excess water from your tips and separated your hair into sections. He blow dried your hair for a couple of minutes before deciding to alternate with the brush. 

The brush was shaped like a cylinder, the bristles much softer than that of other brushes he’d seen. 

“Just use it like any other brush. But once you get close to the tips, start twisting it. It’ll make my hair wavy.”

Steve nodded, doing exactly as you instructed. It was fifteen minutes of pure laughs and jokes as Steve styled your hair like some seventies movie star. He had always enjoyed the culture from that time and even if the show wasn’t actually set in the seventies, it was one of his guilty pleasures to watch That 70’s Show with Wanda. 

     Once finished, the two of you brushed your teeth and finished the rest of the movie in comfortable silence. He didn’t want to become distracted by something new so he shut off the television and turned to you, all snuggled up and scrolling through your phone. 

It was now or never. 

His voice was tinier than he hoped it would be, “Do you regret what we did?”

You were lying on your side facing Steve, phone plugged into the charger. You looked up, voice as equally tiny. “Oh, we’re talking about it now?”

Steve smiled, “You haven’t exactly brought it up either.”

“Well,” your chuckle came out as a huff. You put your phone back onto the bedside table.  “No, I don’t regret it.”

“You don’t?”

“Did you want me to?” you sounded surprised, but Steve knew you well enough to know you were only teasing. 

“No, I just-”

“Do you?”

“You gotta stop interrupting me,” Steve sighed. You raised your eyebrows. “I don’t regret it.”

You bit your lip and sat up straighter so your back was also leaning against the headboard. “So we both don’t regret it.”

“God, you annoy the hell out of me, you know that?” Steve admitted, kicking off his sheets and presenting what looked to be both a sad and honest grin. 

You laughed, kicking the sheets off as well and dangling your legs over the side. “Do I! You only remind me every damn day!”

Steve softened his voice once more, grin still present. “And yet, you never take a hint.”

You craved this playfulness and if you could continue like this for the rest of the night, for the rest of your lives, you would. But you remembered that there was a real conversation to be had. About the last seven years, the last two years, the last couple of days. Whether that conversation remained civil or evolved into an argument, it had to happen. 

“I guess we both act like everything is past us when it clearly isn’t. What should we do?”

Steve hesitated, “Do you want to fight?”

You shrugged, “I think we need to. I don’t plan on not speaking to you for months after if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

He huffed an involuntary laugh, body leaning forward slightly, “I hope not.”

You shared small smiles from your sides of the room, the air growing thicker but not uncomfortable enough to leave the room altogether. 

Steve decided to speak first. “I was stupid. And I made the wrong fucking choice. I was the biggest goddamn idiot on the planet to do that to a friend.” 

You chewed on your bottom lip, “Yeah. All of that’s true. But you still haven’t told me why you did it. You just gave me a half-assed apology because Sam forced you to, and you wonder why we never had our nightly girl talks again.”

“When I apologized, I hardly meant it.”

You nodded sarcastically, “Good start, Steve.”

“No, I-” he laughed, getting up to sit beside you. “I realized that I was truly, actually sorry… when you gave me your blood.”

You cringed, looking away from him and at the random monitors. “It sounds horribly cryptic when you say it like that.”

He smiled big, “It wasn’t even a mission. And if I recall correctly, you told me you would only help me again if we were on a mission.”

“Oh.”

He scooted closer to take your hand in his. “No, not ‘oh’. I was in and out of it but I can clearly make out when I’m getting a blood transfusion.”

“You weren’t gonna die-” you rolled your eyes, absentmindedly drawing circles on Steve’s knuckles. 

“Recovery would have been a hell of a lot harder.”

“I wasn’t the only volunteer-”

“You were the first.”

“So you’re interrupting me, now?”

Steve's smile never faltered. He leaned in and squinted playfully. “How does it feel?”

Pursing your lips, you surrendered. “Go on.”

“You won’t believe me when I say that I truly don’t know why I quit on you. I was just tired.”

“Tired of me?”

“God, no,” he responded quickly. “Tired of myself.”

“Steve…”

He stood up again. Running a hand through his hair, he took tiny steps back and forth. “We brought everyone back and they didn’t know they had been gone for years. I had to tell -” 

He swallowed hard, holding back tears. “I had to tell everyone Nat sacrificed her own soul for theirs.”

“Steve, we could have done it together. I was by your side,” you stood up as well, reaching out to grip his forearm. 

“And then Nick told me about your father. And how he was just picking up where he left off. Like Nat’s sacrifice meant nothing. Like it still means nothing.”

You sighed, a disappointed pout on your face. “So you took it out on me?”

His shoulders fell in defeat as he gently slapped his arms down over his hips. “I have no other excuse.” 

He didn’t try to sugarcoat it. It was the truth. No matter who asked the question, no matter how much he thought about it, the answer truly was that Steve had no excuse. You were the one thing connected to the evil of the past that he so desperately wanted to leave behind. “And then the world was just… we didn’t fix it.”

“How can you say that?”

He explained further, “People moved on. Five years was a long time and we just mucked it all up again.”

“Do you feel like Nat’s sacrifice wasn’t worth it?”

“She died for us. And the world was so chaotic the first few weeks. There were no breaks, there was nothing we could do but… watch.”

You could see where he was coming from. “Pepper has donated so much money. Created foundations. Bruce is locked in his lab all day trying to help slow down the sudden CO2 emissions. Bucky joined the Avengers for a fresh start. And Wanda-”

Steve pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Oh, god, Wanda.”

“Steve,” you stepped in front of him and tried pulling his hands away. He let you guide his arms back to his sides. “You can’t just blame yourself for something we all did.”

A tiny puff of air left his lips before he forced a smile. “Can’t I?”

“You tell this to your therapist, right?” you teased, happy to see him break slightly as he rolled his eyes. “You blame yourself, but I’m saying you don’t have to.”

He traced his index finger down from your shoulder to your wrist. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

And you believed him. The world could explode and erase you from existence and you would still believe him. 

“I feel like saying ‘sorry’ doesn’t cut it.”

“I’ll work with whatever you can give me.”

And God, Steve thinks about how beautiful you look in the muted light of his bedside lamp, hair still a little frizzy from the hair dryer and the most radiant smile. So… soft. Again, the only sound besides your easy breathing and slight whistle was that lamp, the most annoying, fuzzy sound. Everything just felt so hazy, so tranquil, so… and yes, he’ll use the word again: soft. He could stay in that moment forever, where you were his and he was yours. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

Steve shakes his head, wonder drowning out all other senses as he focuses on you. He steps closer, enveloping you in a tight hug, mindful of your bruised back. Before he could overthink this moment, to ruin it with the side of himself he was trying to lose, he leaned in to capture your lips in a most chaste kiss. 

It had been a long time since Steve had kissed anyone. The kiss you shared yesterday was the catalyst, but this was a promise. His last kiss was before the snap while he was on the run and trying to avoid responsibility. But it wasn’t like someone before wanted to bask in the warmth of Steve Rogers - no - there was actual emotion to this kiss. 

An ache swelled in the middle of your chest, hammering surely and true. Your mouth falls open the same time Steve inches his hand up your neck, allowing for the kiss to deepen and last. 

His heart was breaking and repairing itself all at once. Breaking for the time he had lost, repairing for the time he had gained. He needed you, wanted you, lost himself in your touch. That same ache in your chest grew in his, pulsating and heavy. His fingers crept into your hair, curling themselves in the loose strands.

He swears you were born for this - to be willing and wanting and breathtakingly good at kissing. He’s so desperate to feel more of you, to taste more than he thinks he deserves, and he almost whines when your fingers also start to tangle in the hair near his neck. 

“Steve, are you sure we should be doing this?” Your voice prompted him to kiss deeper, apply more pressure in the fear that you would change your mind - change your mind about him. 

Almost immediately, red flags propped up and he had to force himself away. He didn’t know your dating history, he didn’t know if you ever emotionally recovered from your assault, he didn’t know. He cursed inwardly for last night, keeping a respectable distance as he checked. 

“I won’t do anything you don’t want to do. I promise you that.”

His voice was thick like honey, smooth and true in the honest words he was saying. 

You had been hesitant for a long while after what had happened to you. You couldn’t stand the simple touch of anyone besides Natasha. But she helped you through it, she shared her own experiences from the early Red Room days, and she had never officially recognized your recovery - she didn’t have to as long as you knew in your mind and body that you had. 

‘The dreadful experience will be a part of you, but it will not ever control you.’ Her words were like prayer. 

But Steve’s touch was natural and wanted. You never shied away from him, not ten years ago and certainly not now. He would never hurt you, you knew this, and he was double-checking to confirm it. 

“I only want you.”

His face resembled a literal question mark, like he didn’t quite accept your admission. Like it was hard to believe you wanted to be with him after everything he put you through. “Do you want me?”  

“Yes. Honest to God, I’m just going with what feels right.”

“That’s just a nicer way of saying you’re thinking with your dick.”

Steve couldn’t contain the burst of laughter that left his lips and hit yours. He pulled back and smiled, eyes crinkling at the sides. “I promise you it’s not that.”

You cupped his face and drew tiny circles on his flushed cheeks. “Hm, so you don’t know what you’re doin’? Thought you always had a plan.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “And apparently I’m always brave.”

“And righteous.”

“Downright patriotic.”

You grinned up at him, your toes sore from how long you had been bending them to hoist you up. “So, your plan?”

Steve kissed you once, twice, three times. “I don’t have one.”

“Pretty brave of you to admit that.”

Steve’s smile dropped slightly to showcase a more serious emotion. Still, his eyes held the most genuine quality. “I just want to be yours.”

You pressed up against him, tiptoes straining and fists clutching his shirt. The kiss was desperate now, as were the both of you. You gasped in between each long peck. “All this time? Why didn’t we say something?”

Embracing you once more, Steve led the two of you to the foot of his bed and fell forward. He landed on top of you, weight nowhere near actually crushing you. His legs were slightly parted, his knees touching the lateral sides of yours. Accepting that the both of you had played a role and delayed this portion of your relationship - Steve was a coward, he knew this, but hearing you say that you also realized your mistakes made him feel weirdly glad. Like he wasn’t alone in this.

“Tell me if you need to stop,” Steve breathed in your neck, kissing the depths of your collarbones and the points of your shoulders. 

“Never,” you whispered, gasping a moment later as he sucked particularly hard. You reached below and tugged the end of his shirt upward. He took it off quickly and before resuming his conquest on your neck, he tugged yours off as well. 

It functioned like this for another ten minutes, strong kisses and gasps and whines, before you were both down to your underwear and simply petting each other higher up on the bed. 

Steve pulled away abruptly, a blush spreading along his neck and down his chest as he thought about the best way to phrase his next sentence. “I didn’t really pack any condoms.”

You actually snorted, pushing away loose strands of your hair as you looked up from beneath him. “Woah, how far did you think you were going to get here, Rogers?”

He was used to the sarcasm, but oh my god did it do something feral to him while in bed with you.  He suddenly flipped you over, holding your hips above his as you settled yourself. It was like a case of whiplash, and before you knew it, you were placed on top of him to grind down and do all the work yourself. 

“Seriously?” His voice was light but raspy, both a sweet question and a warning. 

You grind your hips down on him, feeling the way his hard cock rubbed against your clothed core. Last night was different - you could feel the heat of him, the initial size not lost on you whatsoever. But here you were actually seeing the thick outline in all its glory, a small wet patch forming on his briefs near his twitching tip. “Years of sleeping in my bed only to want to fuck me now?”

He rolled his hips up, his palms beginning a slow and steady pace smoothing alongside your stomach. You relaxed right away, even though it felt like your insides were going to turn upside down, and you rested your hands over his to help guide him. 

“You gonna let me?”

 And fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest fucking thing in the whole world. His palms continued their tracks, reaching up to cup your breasts through your sports bra.  You got the message, giggling as you lifted your arms up. He lifted it up and over your head, throwing it to the other side of the room. Steve immediately attacked, lifting himself and readjusting your hips as well. He sucked your left nipple like a goddamn professional, swirling his tongue around the tight nub and using his teeth only briefly, delighted in the sharp hitch in your breath as he did so. He moved on to the other one, repeating the same process and grinding your hips down on him to match. He trailed quick pecks along your chest and up your neck, his hand finding its way back to your hair. Just below your occipital, so very sensitive, and he tugged your head back at an awkward angle. He kissed his way up, stretching your neck out, and you adjusted to the burn as quickly as the pleasure from it came. 

“Fuck,” you breathed out, mind scrambled but still coherent enough to remember you were on birth control and clean. “I have the shot.”

This had Steve reeling, balance now off as he flipped you once more, hips coming down to meet yours as you thrust upward looking for some relief. The thought of spilling into you with no barrier had to be one of the kinks he didn’t know he had. 

“Safe word?”

You rolled your eyes and shoved his shoulder playfully, “Really, Steve?”

“Safe. Word.”

It wasn’t like you were about to tie each other down for your first time together, but you knew what was flying through his mind. He needed to know you felt safe during whatever the two of you did tonight, make sure you felt calm and at ease and relaxed. Steve would rather die than hurt you physically. 

“Widow.” You paused, smirking up at him as he accepted your decree. “Great, now I’m thinking about Natasha and that time she entered the compound in just that little, red bikini-”

Steve thumbed your bottom lip, then carefully shoved it into your mouth and placed it over your lax tongue to get you to stop talking. Your jaw instantly relaxed and you waited a few moments before locking eyes and enclosing his thumb in your lips. You sucked and swirled your tongue around it, pushing slightly so it rested on your puckered lips. Steve rolled his hips down again, his heat meeting yours in a mash of uncoordinated thrusts. You spread your legs to allow him more room. He had to remove his thumb in fear he would come right then and there.

He inched down lower, hands reaching down to cup your ass and lift you up slightly. He kissed all along your thighs, up to your hip bones, expertly avoiding the one area he knew you wanted him. His beard scratched and poked on your delicate skin, tickling you as he moved closer to your center. This would most certainly hurt in the morning, but nothing a little lotion and vaseline couldn’t fix. You mewled embarrassingly loud, a long drawn out sound that caused Steve to involuntarily rut against the mattress. It had been so long since he had been with someone. But this someone was you. He honestly didn’t know if he could hold out for as long as he wanted. He slowly peeled off your underwear. 

“Where do you want me?”

You lifted your head from the pillow to look down at him, eyebrows furrowed and cheeks incredibly red. “Games, Rogers?”

Steve growled and hoisted your open legs on his shoulders, pulling you closer so that you could feel his stuttering breath. “I’m the one playing?”

His question didn’t quite land considering his sudden manhandling had your eyes rolling to the back of your head and momentarily blinding you. After such a harsh day, the roughness of this particular situation shouldn’t have been so well received by your body. But it was consensual, it was with someone you trusted, and you were also in control. Just knowing that made you crave it. 

“If you don’t get your mouth on me-” you started, trying desperately to move your hips closer to his mouth. And god, did he want to dip lower and suck your glistening heat under his waiting mouth. You were positively dripping, all shiny and welcoming. He hadn’t ordered dessert with dinner, and hey, this would do nicely. 

But your quick quips ignited the Steve that would pick you last during training line-ups. He would leave you for the end, without a team, foot tapping rapidly on the floor as you glared at him with an amused smile. Then he would act like you were the last choice he just had to pick, which you were, and you’d lose the first match on purpose to ruin his scoreboard. It always worked like this, he knew, but did he ever pick you first the next time? No, your bothered attitude excited him too much.

Now, with an impatient attitude bolstering underneath his body, he found himself raising his hand a few inches up in the air. “Stop sassin’!”

The slap echoed after it connected against your bottom, the angle at which it impacted clumsy and inelegant. He smacked the side, surprised by the sharp scream you exhaled. As quickly as he acted, he pulled back. “Oh my god, I should have asked first. I’m so sorry.”

You opened your eyes, the soft light illuminating the room still too bright. You shook away the white spots from your vision. You seriously didn’t know if that was an orgasm or simply a tidal wave of intense pleasure. Still, you were sort of out of it as Steve’s voice tried to draw you back in. 

You looked down at him, “Do that again.”

Steve blinked quickly, unknowing if he truly registered your words correctly. “Are you sure?”

“I didn’t think I’d enjoy that. But oh my god, do that again.”

Steve hesitated and to ease into it better, he decided to not keep you waiting any longer and attached his eager lips to your gleaming ones down below. You fluttered your eyes shut, surprised by how quickly he found your sweetest spot, and you rutted against him harder as the minutes flew by. He swirled his tongue in tight O’s and figure eights, teeth barely scratching but when they did, sent you flying upwards. But he just gripped onto your thighs and readjusted you on his shoulders, fingers digging in almost painfully. His beard burned the inside of your thighs, rubbing deliciously and uncomfortably. He shifted his soft and wriggling tongue to that special spot on the inside of your left lip, his fierce grip not allowing you to shift away as he ate. The hands that were clutching the bedsheets now flew onto his scalp, gripping his hair tightly and you pushed him in deeper. Steve groaned from the pleasant sting, cock straining in his briefs as he rutted into the air. 

The pressure was too much and you wanted him off of you and on you at the same time. Moaning so loud it was deafening, you didn’t notice he lost his grip on one of your legs to connect his palm back to the side of your ass. 

“God!” you yelled blissfully, one hand leaving his head to slam back into the headboard. He repeated the action, his own moans vibrating on you and sending you to a different plane of existence. Each slap grew in strength and he alternated sides, his mouth never leaving your sweet center.

He was sweating now, dying to touch himself and get you off at the same time. He circled his hips mid-air, the friction against his briefs not enough and all too much. 

“Fuck, I can’t believe you like that,” he whined. 

You chuckled through desperate moans, “Are you judging me right now?”

“I’m judging how fucking wrecked it makes me,” he admitted, mouth now working overtime and ready to lead you off the edge. He worked faster, tongue now assaulting your clit eagerly. Steve can feel both his pulse and your pulse gaining momentum, thrumming away inside his skull and vibrating deliciously as he brought you closer. He suspects you’ve got a few good seconds before you’re coming on his mouth. 

“Steve… Steve!” you begged, hips bucking awkwardly against him. He wrapped both arms around your thighs again and headed for the finish line, humming against you and basking in the glory of your end. You broke around him, the scream you let out causing the heat in his stomach to tighten and spread to his own thighs. You wiggled fiercely, attempting to get away from him as he continued to lick you. He made sure to leave some of your release behind, even if his lips and chin told another story. 

He set your legs back down on the bed with him still in the middle. He could still see how shiny you were in between. Selfishly, Steve maneuvered to get himself out of his briefs and settle back in the middle. There, he took pleasure in simply viewing himself, strained and practically purple with desire, at level with your wet mound. 

“You’ve been practicing, huh?” He snapped from his dirty thoughts and looked back at your blissed out face. You also had a soft luster on your skin.

Steve chuckled, hands gripping the sides of your hips to massage them. “Not recently. But the USO girls were just as tuned up as I was at the time.”

You grinned wide, “Now that’s something I didn’t know about you. You fuck ‘em?”

Steve reached down to grip the base of his cock, the pressure building and he seriously didn’t want to blow his load before you both took the next step. He willed himself to calm down before he responded. “Yeah, but please don’t go tellin’ everyone.”

“Who knew you were such a slut?” you teased, voice dripping with such intensity that Steve shut his eyes to drown in it. You wrapped your leg around his waist and tipped him over, coming back to rest your hips atop his. Hands sprawled along the expanse of his chest and unclothed heat now rubbing along his bare cock. Steve tipped his head back, a deep groan rising from the middle of his chest as your drenched lips parted to swallow the thickness of his cock. You rocked back and forth, your sensitive clit nudging his tip every so often. You had already come once, and you reveled in the simple fact that this must be torture for Steve. “Tell me, Steve. How do you want me?”

Steve short-circuited. 

“Doll, I want you in every imaginable way,” he whined, bucking his hips. He grinned when his short movement caused you to whimper. “I want you on top of me, doing nothing, as I fuck up into you.”

You let out a ragged gasp, hips moving faster. You were practically dripping along his cock. Steve continued, “I want you underneath me as I fold you in half and your ankles are dangling in the air. I want you on your stomach as I use your hips how I want.”

Your eyes were wide, the blush on your cheeks extending all the way down to your naked chest. This was so surreal. Just last week you switched his special sugar for salt and watched him literally sob and almost throw up as he sipped his morning tea. 

“But I also want you to hold me down and fuck me however you see fit. I want you to steal my control, I don’t want it. I just need you.”

His voice was wrecked, choked whimpers caught in between his syllables and eyelids fluttering slowly. You shot down to kiss him hard, hands tangling in his hair and hips grinding long and slow. You were rewarded with a sticky bead of pre-come from his sensitive slit. You were already milking him and he hadn’t even entered you yet. 

“Y/N, are you sure?”

You detached your lips, forehead now resting on his and your breaths intermingled. “I’m sure.”

He didn’t know what willed him to flip you over so fast, whether it was the serum or his desperate need to sink into your tight warmth, but he succeeded. His gaze was intense, like he was trying to find any hesitation he so didn’t want to find. But there was none. Your eyes were bright and happy, and he had only seen this look a few times. He felt incredibly lucky to experience it now. 

“I’m sorry I lost you,” he spoke without thinking. Because he truly was sorry, he was so fucking sorry. But to have you here, so vulnerable and allowing him to see you so defenseless, he felt like he didn’t deserve it without telling you once again that he was sorry. 

You gave him a toothy smile, cheeks rising and causing the skin by your eyes to crinkle. You guided his head down to plant his lips on yours again. It was innocent enough for the circumstances, just a gentle press with slow movements. 

You pushed him back to meet his eyes. “I probably should have held on tighter.”

He knows the color of your eyes, but never in this lighting. He knows the sweat of your body, but not when it mixes with his. He knows your talkative mouth, but never pink and swollen in a pleasant pout. He knows your voice, but never when it calls out his name while you writhe underneath him. He knows you now, all of you, open and vulnerable for him.

Steve presses one more deep kiss on your lips before positioning himself better in between your legs. He lifts you up slightly, bending your knees and spreading your legs so your feet are planted on the mattress. Then he slowly guides himself into your tight heat. 

It’s incredibly overwhelming for both parties. He hadn’t exactly prepared you with his fingers and his size is a little much. He was thicker than anything you were used to, and the sting left you wanting him to move already and pause to settle for maybe an hour. It’s like he read your mind because he moved even slower as he pushed deeper, head dropping to the curve of your neck, gasping against your skin. You tried to encourage him, rolling your hips and hooking one leg around him. The sting still overpowered any sense of pleasure, so you rolled your hips against his to try and better adjust for yourself. 

He grasped onto the side of your hip tightly, “Doll, if you don’t stop doing that I’m not gonna last.” 

You blushed, slightly embarrassed, “I was just trying to get comfortable quicker.”

Steve groaned and planted a few sweet kisses to your heated neck. “Do you want to stop? I can work you out one more time before we do this?”

You turned your head slightly to kiss across his cheek. “I want you now. I just need to adjust first.”

Steve nodded quickly, pressing in more and pausing to let you roll your hips. He bit his lip harshly, a cracked gasp escaping every so often as you worked yourself on him. Once he was fully seated inside of you, he closed his eyes and just held you. 

He tried not to think of anything else other than you. How you felt, how you smelled, how you sounded. Who you were, who you became, who you will be. He was swallowed in you and he didn’t ever want to leave that abyss. 

A rush of heat settled inside your stomach, maddening and burning with such intensity it was practically speaking to you. “Steve, you can move. I’m ready, please move.”

He’s as deep as he can go and you’re both breathing hard and he loves you, he loves you, he loves you. As far as declarations of love go, this was perhaps the most graceless, but he knew it was sincere and real. Steve felt a moment of unrelenting panic, like he had just accidentally verbally admitted it. But he hadn’t, and selfishly enough, he would keep it to himself for as long as he could until he himself could come to terms with it. 

There are definitely going to be marks on your skin once you’re done here, but you couldn’t care less - not when Steve just let go of his worries and started to thrust in and out of you, deep and slow. He meets you with a long kiss, hips picking up their pace as you match his rhythm. His hands grip your hips tighter, every thrust working deep into you and prying desperate moans for him to savor. 

The drag as he pulls out leaves you lightheaded. And as he pushes back in, it leaves you with a burst of satisfaction at the base of your spine. You can’t even form words as you’re reduced to a stuttering series of ‘uh-uh-uhs’, fully in the moment and fucked stupid. All you could do is push your hips forward and up to meet him halfway, match your moans to his, clench around him to draw out that choked sob from his throat that he tries and fails to contain. You tried your best to ignore the slight pain in the middle of your back, and the sting and stretch down below made sure of it. 

He was stammering around every syllable of your name. Breathy moans followed. 

“Steve, faster, please baby.” Steve stuttered in his movements, eyes squeezed shut as he registered your request. He followed through, however, lifting your hip in one hand and turning you at an angle that made him hit deeper and in a special spot you didn’t know you had. No one had reached it, not even when you played with yourself, and your squeal of delight alerted Steve of his accomplishment. Each pleasurable noise encouraged Steve to maintain whatever rhythm he had going. So he hit it over and over again, working at it hungrily, ignoring his shaking arms and praying the serum could be useful for more than just bullets and super speed. 

“You feel so fucking perfect. So fucking great,” he panted, watching your face as it contorted into a silent scream. You were coming again, hands braced on his biceps as your voice failed to warn him. You clenched and unclenched around him, head thrown far back into the pillow as your chest ripped with the sound it was harbouring. 

You had never come from penetration alone and you bet the fact it was Steve bringing you to climax was definitely a main factor, but it was so damn intense that your legs gave out and simply flopped onto the mattress. Steve stopped hammering into you for a minute, breathing heavily as he allowed you a cooldown. 

“I didn’t feel that coming, I’m sorry,” you laughed, arm coming up to cover your eyes. 

Steve chuckled and removed your arm, “You good?”

You were still seeing white spots and your head was slightly cloudy, but the knowledge that Steve hadn’t yet come fueled you. And the possibility of him coming inside you kickstarted another wave of desire in each of your vertebrae. 

“Yeah, I just have one favor,” you stated honestly, wiggling uncomfortably. “Could you flip me over? In this position, you’re really pushing down on my bruise.”

He moaned shamefully from the greedy thought of having you on your stomach. The angel on one shoulder chastised him, telling him to flip you over for the sake of your comfort. But that little devil, greedy and seeking his finish, told him to flip you over and fuck you into the mattress. He compromised. 

He flipped you over and helped you place a pillow just below your hips. He watched as you threw your hair to one side and bent your arms at the elbows. Hands now placed below your head and hips wiggling in front of him, Steve parted your legs and sunk into you again. 

“Yes, fuck, yes…” you mewled, hips raising ever so slightly to drag him in deeper. Steve watched the area where you were connected, wonder clouding his mind as he dipped deeper, deeper, until his hips connected with your bottom. He wasn’t used to this position and he never really thought that he would enjoy it so much. It was like he reached new depths, your pleasure could only come from the way he rolled his hips - yeah, he needed to put you in every position his mind could fathom. 

His jaw went slack as he pulled out and pushed back in, hair sticking to his own forehead and mouth feeling dry and watery at the same time. 

He fucked you in earnest, hoping he could draw out one more orgasm from you. You were putty beneath him, hair now mangled and sticking with the sweat on your neck and back. You were a repetition of ‘yes, yes, yes’ and ‘fuck please, fuck, please!’, sloppy in all senses. He didn’t slow down because one: he was chasing his finish, and two: you didn’t tell him to. 

You were a whimpering mess, a tiny pool of drool forming beneath your mouth and on the sheets. It wasn’t like you didn’t try to swallow it - you physically couldn’t. 

Steve was growing erratic now as his end neared. He fell over you, none of his weight actually on you as he wrapped one arm under your stomach and the other hand sneaking its way to your clit. His cheek was planted on your back and in that moment, he remembered your growing bruise. So he lifted his face back up and planted several wet kisses over, inbetween, and alongside your shoulder blades. The soft gesture had you tearing up from both adoration and heat. You fisted the sheets underneath you and met Steve’s ruts as best as you could. 

He rubbed quick circles over your clit, relishing in the feeling of your velvet walls pulsating around him. “Come for me, doll.”

You didn’t know if he could hear himself begging, but he repeated that sentence several more times before you spoke. It was like you chose for him. “Come inside me, Steve. Please, please, please!”

That strung-out whine of yours did it. Steve pressed his mouth against your skin with a breathless groan as he spilled into you in long spurts. Simply feeling him coat your walls with what sounded like a painful cry had you coming for the third time tonight. You didn’t have enough energy to vocalize it so just pushed your head into the pillow and prayed you could still walk tomorrow. 

Steve’s heartbeat is in his ears as he comes down from his high. He enjoys it for a few more seconds before finally snapping back to reality, lifting himself from you and slowly pulling out. He groaned deeply as he watched his spent drip from you and onto the pillow hoisting you up. He wrapped a hand around himself to milk whatever else he had as he watched. 

You two lay beside each other for several minutes, chests heaving and blood settling to its normal speed again. 

You glanced to your left and giggled as you witnessed Steve’s blissed out state, tip of his nose still pink, eyelashes creating such a lovely shadow on his cheeks, cock giving a few spent stutters as the rush of blood found another body part to supply. 

He turned to you as well, a lazy smile greeting you. “We’re good at that.”

This time you laughed loudly, throwing yourself over his chest and hugging him close. He laughed with you and kissed the top of your head as he enjoyed the feeling.

After another couple minutes, you both decided it was time to clean up. He resisted the urge to laugh when you stood up, legs wobbly and chest still trying to catch full breaths. You looked drunk, eyes glossy and hair disorderly. The look suited you, really. 

You thought the same about him. 

Steve swore he was about to crumble when you both returned from the bathroom and you headed for your own bed. It was a betrayal for only a millisecond before you commented on how you were not sleeping in soiled sheets and that he could ‘obviously’ join you in your bed tonight. You kept talking, telling him how you weren’t necessarily a cuddler but you would sacrifice one night for him. But ‘do not be alarmed when you find me on the other side of the bed in the morning!’, and the good ache in his chest swelled once again. 

     Once, in 1935, when Steve was seventeen and too weak to breathe in a lick of clean air, the pneumonia eating away at his lungs and taunting his mother, who was rotating between cold and hot rags; that 1935 sickness was one of the few times he was hopeless. Sure, he pulled through because he’s Steve Rogers. But not being able to breathe really scares a person, and so he didn’t feel hopeless - he was hopeless. His own body betrayed him and made his mother, who nursed him while Bucky worked extra shifts at the dock to help her with groceries, cry like a blubbering newborn - well, Steve was forced to put his faith in God. It’s what his mother would have wanted him to do.

And when he couldn’t reach far enough to grasp Bucky’s trembling hand, when he watched him fall into that icy ravine to his supposed death in 1944, he was hopeless. Completely obliterated from the bottom of his heart, up. 

In 2018, when he lost the ultimate battle and saw half the world disintegrate, and the itchiness spread itself far and wide to all the crevices in his crumbling soul, pouring into crack after crack after crack - there was no need to even label himself hopeless anymore. He hadn’t had hope in anything after he caused the destruction of one of his only true 21st century friendships; not since he dropped that shield at the feet of one friend while he walked away with another. There was no hopelessness - simply less. 

But now, with you in his arms and treading lightly along his second chance, his heart was bursting with the possibility of relearning the definition of hope, craving to feel human again - to feel like Steve Rogers again. Sure, he may still believe his glass is half empty instead of half full, and he was pushing the ideals of that shield far too much down the line, but Steve swore the awe in your eyes was the hope he had lost. 

He couldn’t believe you were the host of it all along. 

So he settled in his new home, in his new hope, praying God would let him have it, and closed his eyes. This Steve, who was asleep for over seventy years and was robbed of the life he was supposed to live. This Steve, who wished he could erase all the lost time filled with stupid tantrums and half-assed apologies and pretend it never happened. No lies about ‘maybe it helped you two grow!’ He had poisoned his happiness years ago and god forbid he would let himself do it again. 

This Steve, who only wanted to protect and be protected. Steve, with all his heart, his mind, and his soul, burning brilliant.

~

A/N: man i know this is long but i literally write the chapters in sections and i don’t realize until I paste them together omgggg xxMoni

Taglist: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress​ 

[maybe-itll-be-someday]

How We Raise Them

This is a birthday gift for the most wonderful human being and writer that I get to have the pleasure of being my friend? @jetaime-jespere you inspire and support me in so many ways. 10/10 would recommend being her friend. 

This story, of puppy kisses, margaritas, and tooth-rotting domestic!Hotchniss is just for you. 

Read on AO3

--

Emily always had a knack for caring and nurturing.

The house plants in their home were all bright green, a hobby she had gotten from JJ after too many nights spent fussing over Jack. Jack had seemingly grown up in the blink of an eye - far from the toddling two year old that Aaron had first brought into the office, his steps uneven and hand tightly wrapped around Aaron's finger. He was now almost 17, finally starting to grow into the long, gangly limbs he had no doubt inherited from his father. He was a great kid, but no doubt a teenager now, complete with the home-grown embarrassment for his parents' PDA and a sense of false confidence that he knew better than his parents' combined 80 years of experience.

Jack was starting to take charge of his own schedule, planning out his soccer and baseball practices and time with his girlfriend and was now rarely at home outside of eating dinner and sleeping. Sometimes, they liked to joke that their home was more of a hotel, only utilized for meals and a warm bed.

"He's grown up so fast, Aaron." Emily had lamented, curling a warm leg around his as they listened to Jack pitter around the kitchen before school. Emily had a rare day of no meetings, her new job as Section Chief agreeing well with a more attainable home life balance. Aaron had been teaching at the Academy for two years now and he didn't have his first class until 2 PM, granting the two of them a morning spent lazing in bed while Jack fended for himself before school.

He was old enough to drive now and have a girlfriend, and that fact took Aaron's breath away every time.

Aaron remembers when Jack was born, a wriggly screaming bundle of joy that entered the world with the loudest wail Aaron thought he'd ever heard. Now, he was driving, sending applications to colleges, and in a relationship with a nice girl.

He had grown up so fast.

Now, both of them had a plethora of time - time that used to be spent shuttling Jack from school, practice, and birthday parties between cases, making sure that his homework was fully done, PTA meetings (which Emily insisted on being a part of) and coordinating Jack's  schedule with precision, slotting in play dates and trips to the mall to buy new khakis because he shot up like a weed.

All the time spent taking care of Jack, now exchanged for hours searching for different plants and nurturing them until their home was an urban jungle.

So Aaron starts doing some research while Emily is asleep, hoping to bring something a little more difficult than plants to take care of.

Before their entire home had turned into a greenhouse.

--

The house was quiet, too quiet, when Emily arrived home from a day spent in meetings discussing budgets. She was exhausted and would do anything for a glass of red and a foot massage from her loving husband.

"Aaron? I'm home." She calls out, shucking her shoes and purse by the front door.

There was silence that permeated from the house, followed by a sharp yelp from what she can decipher is Jack.

"Jack? Aaron?" She calls out again, following the source of the sound only to be met by an out-of-breath Aaron.

"Hi honey." He says, his breathing heavy as he presses a kiss to her lips in greeting. She cocks an eyebrow suspiciously, glancing over his shoulder to see if Jack would pop out from their den.

"Hey. Is something the matter?"

"No, no. Nothing's the matter." Aaron says, shaking his head. He wrapped his hand around hers, a bright smile on his face and she couldn't help but feel lucky that this is where they had ended up. Married, raising Jack together in a row house in Dupont Circle. Now Jack was nearly an adult - their duties as his parents were slowly dwindling down to providing advice and making sure he made the right decisions.

On those days, when she and Aaron are left in the empty rooms of their house, devoid of Jack's sounds of make believe as he pretended to be an astronaut or a G-Man like his father, she can't help but let a small pang of regret hit her.

She didn't know how much joy she would derive from being his step-mother, and a small part of her wishes that she and Aaron had created a brood of their own.

But it wasn't part of their journey, and she was okay with that.

"I have a surprise for you. Look, I know we've never talked about it..." Aaron starts to ramble, leading her to the den at the back of the house as her confusion grows.

He stops right by the closed door, hearing the shuffling going on on the other side of the door.

"But you're an amazing mother to Jack and I know that he's leaving for college soon. I don't want our house to be quiet."

"Aaron..." She says cautiously. "What did you do?"

The den door swings open, revealing Jack with a bright smile on his face and a small bundle in his arms. The tiny ball of fluff makes a soft mewl in Jack's arms, popping its tiny head up to reveal long floppy ears and the sweetest eyes she thinks she's ever seen. Aaron smiles, dropping her hand to pick up the puppy in Jack's arms and drop it right into hers.

There's a tiny jingle and her fingers brush against cold metal, reaching down to reveal the tag that hung around the puppy's collar.

Finn Hotchner

"This is Finn."

--

It turns out, despite all the research that Aaron had done for puppy rearing, it was still much harder than they had anticipated.

Emily groans as she hears a sharp whine come from their living room, where they had set-up Finn's crate. Aaron was adamant about them crate training Finn, despite the fact that Emily and Jack would have been fine letting Finn sleep with them in their beds.

This was the third, no maybe the fourth time, that night that he had whined in his crate like he had been abandoned on the side of the road instead of sleeping next to their fireplace.

Aaron pops up a sleepy head, eyes blearily adjusting to the faint moonlight streaming from the window and glances as the neon numbers that shone on his bedside table.

5:30 AM

"Good God, does he ever sleep?" Aaron groans as Emily let out a large yawn, patting a soft hand on Aaron's shoulder to tell him to go back to sleep.

"I've got him." Emily says as Aaron sinks back under the covers, quickly drifting back to sleep as Emily rolls her eyes and throws on her robe. She pads out into the living room, her soft footsteps enough to catch Finn's attention and get his cries to stop.

"Hey sweet boy." She coos, letting him out of his crate as he pattered out, his limbs still floppy at 10 weeks as he let out a large yawn, Emily's heart melting as he curled up by her ankles. He was clearly just desperate for attention.

More specifically, desperate for her attention.

Finn had latched on to her, claiming her as his human the moment Aaron had placed him in her arms almost three weeks ago. The puppy was always quick to dart to Emily when she came home, eager to expose his belly to her for pets after a long day at work. He followed her around at home, hearing the soft tapping of his paws against their hardwood floor as she cooked dinner or made coffee in the morning. He curled up right at her feet in her office as she worked through mountains of paperwork, content on sleeping right at her feet as she filled out reports.

"Come on." She coaxes, moving from her spot by his crate to let him out into their back garden.

The sun was softly breaking in the horizon, the long summer days already evident by the soft light that streaked the sky. Finn zoomed out onto the grass, quickly tripping over the limbs he still didn't have much control over and Emily let a small smile play on her lips.

After the initial shock of the fact that they now had a dog, despite almost no previous discussion prior, Emily found herself completely enamored with the puppy. She found herself thinking of the tiny ball of fluff often, taking time out of her day to check the camera they had installed in their living room to see what he was up to when they were at work (it was mostly sleeping) and watched with a fond smile as Aaron let him out during lunch. He would crouch down, despite the hell she was sure it caused on his knees that were now worn with age and trauma, and play tug with Finn or attempt to train him in what would only cause frustration for both of them.

She had always seen the softness that lined Aaron's interactions, despite the steely demeanor that had hardened like calluses after too many tragedies. But she saw the gentle way in which he raised Jack, always insistent on talking and sharing - a far cry from the slamming doors and harsh hits that were consequences of his father's temper. She felt it in the way his hands drifted to her lower back when he felt a need for connection. She heard it in the soft tones that he'd use when talking to children, a sparkle in his eye as he interacted with them.

It had filled her heart with a new measure of love she didn't think was possible, watching him soften to Finn in a way she never expected.

Aaron yawns, stretching his limbs to ease the sleep from them when he realizes that his wife's side of the bed had gone cold. He glances up at the clock and realizes it had been almost two hours since Emily had gotten up to let Finn out. A bloom of warmth grows in his chest when he realizes where they could probably be.

He finds her on their couch, stretched across in a deep slumber as Finn dozed quietly on her chest. It was a position he had found her in often, Finn always opting to sleep anywhere where he was physically touching Emily.

Another Hotchner wrapped around her finger.

When Emily is jolted from sleep by a loud clink, the warmth of Finn is nowhere to be found. She props herself up, sounds slowly coming into focus and she can hear the sounds of Aaron's soft whispering and a familiar scratching of utens. There's the sweet aroma of coffee wafting from the kitchen, and she follows the scent to catch Aaron red-handed.

Aaron is reading the paper on the counter, not noticing Emily walk in, and slips a small piece of his bacon to Finn who is sitting patiently by his side.

When she chastises him, he just laughs and passes her the cup of coffee he prepares for her on Saturday mornings.

"This is the only way I can get him to love me, Em."

--

As it turns out, having a puppy was a little too similar to having a baby. 

Their days now revolved around Finn - their sleep schedules were disrupted by crying in the middle of the night, their daily list of tasks including someone having to be home to let him out every three hours whether it be them or a pet sitter and on top of Aaron’s classes and Emily’s workload. It had only been a month since they had gotten Finn and they were exhausted.

Emily had never had a dog and Aaron had never grown up with any animals, so both of them severely underestimated the amount of work that went into keeping a tiny ball of fluff alive and healthy. 

Aaron finds her in the living room, sprawled out on the couch with relief on her face at the silence she worked so hard to cultivate amidst the chaos.

“He finally passed out.” Emily whispers and Aaron eyes the puppy who is sleeping peacefully in his crate after being forced in for a nap. 

He produces a margarita from behind his back, salt lining the rim.

“I knew I married you for a reason.” She says happily, taking a grateful sip and moaning in delight as the sweet liquid hit her tongue and the tequila stung her throat. He clinked his own glass of whiskey to hers before taking a seat next to her, both of them needing the alcohol after weeks of sleep deprivation and tending to Finn’s every need. 

“I think we’re getting too old for this.” Emily muses, watching Finn shift in his sleep. 

“I don’t know about you, but I feel young and spry.” Aaron jokes, pressing his lips to her shoulder as she takes another sip of her margarita. His lips slowly trail from her shoulder, dancing across her collarbone before settling at the base of her neck. He feels Emily tilt her head slightly to expose more of her skin to him and a breathy moan escape from her lips. 

“So this is why you made me a margarita.” Aaron knew that certain kinds of alcohol produced different reactions from Emily. Wine always made her sleepy, whiskey always made her angry. 

Tequila, on the other hand, made her very mouthy.

“I just thought my beautiful wife deserved a drink.” He mumbles into her skin, taking the glass from her hand and placing their drinks on the console table behind them. “Also because Jack is sleeping over at Tyler’s tonight and Finn is finally asleep.” 

It was the first free night they had in a while, out of earshot of their very perceptive teenage son and Aaron thought that deserved some sort of celebration, one that hopefully involved making her scream and not caring who heard. 

“So no ulterior motives?” She teases, but Aaron’s lips are very persistent against the pulse in her throat. 

“None whatsoever.” 

--

They barely make it back to their bedroom, clothes hastily strewn against the carpeted bedroom floor with Emily’s legs straddled across his waist and his fingers dancing across her underwear when he hears it. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Aaron groans when a familiar high-pitched whine comes from the living room. They freeze like two teenagers caught by their parents, hoping that the whine would just be Finn waking up for a brief moment before going back to sleep. 

It isn’t long before Finn’s wailing at the top of his tiny lungs and Emily giggles, hopping off his lap as Aaron flops dramatically back onto their bed. 

“It’s your turn.” Emily says, pushing Aaron towards the direction of their door as he pouts like a petulant child. Aaron grumbles as he goes towards the living room, slightly annoyed when Finn bounds out of his crate like he hadn’t just interrupted the one solitude moment that they’ve had in over a month. 

“Kid, I could kill for less than this.”

--

Finn slides into their family like the final piece of a puzzle they didn't know was missing.

He quickly becomes Jack's best friend, chasing him around in the garden and attaching himself to Jack’s hip when he was home. When Jack leaves for college a year after they get Finn, Emily finds him on Jack’s bed, a sullen look in Finn’s eyes at the profound absence of his playmate.  

Aaron finds an unusual confidant in Finn. There are nights that are difficult, the memories of Foyet amplifying the phantom ache in his chest, especially when Jack graduates high school and when he gets accepted into both Georgetown and Yale. 

He raises Jack to grow up just fine and he still hates, even after all these years, that Haley wasn’t around to see the kind of man Jack has become. Despite losing Haley at such a young age, too many of Jack’s mannerisms made him believe that he could have only gotten those traits through genetics. The way his left eyebrow twitched when he got angry, one of Haley’s tells when she was beginning to lose her temper. Jack fidgeted with a pen, clipped between his fingers, the same way Haley did when she was concentrating on a test back when she first caught his attention at 16. 

On those nights, he steals away to the kitchen and sips a fingerful of whiskey. It was a habit he’d developed years before, a quiet moment just for himself. He was used to doing it alone. 

Until they had Finn. He remembers the first time Finn had done it, a floppy 6 month old with disproportionate limbs and an attitude that was driving both him and Emily crazy. 

He could only ruin so many of their expensive leather shoes before they had a problem with it. 

It had been the night of Jack’s graduation and Aaron poured himself his whiskey, raising a glass to an empty kitchen with a hollow ache in his chest on days like today. 

On days that she should have gotten to see. 

“We did it, Haley.” 

Finn had walked in then, intrigued by the clinking of the glasses that was coming from the kitchen. It was as if he sensed the sadness that lived in Aaron, walking up to give gentle licks to his palm and refusing to leave Aaron’s side as he sat at the dining room table nursing his drink. 

He hasn’t spent a night in the kitchen without Finn since. 

But despite the fact that they knew that Finn loved all of them, Jack and Aaron both knew that there was something special about the way that Finn loved Emily. 

Finn was her shadow - always glued to her side whenever she was around. He often favored Emily’s company on the couch over anyone’s, huffing in disapproval when Aaron would come over to sit next to Emily. He was a constant presence in any room that Emily was in, either laying at her feet or pressed up against her somehow. They had often joked that Finn would choose Emily over boiled chicken, which aside from Emily was Finn’s greatest love. 

When Elizabeth dies, suddenly and with no warning, Emily is inconsolable. She had always wished that their relationship was better than it was, despite the fact that it had improved in spades as the years went on. But it didn’t stop her from wishing for just one more day with her mother. 

Finn is steadfast by her side from the moment she finds out. They all hovered over her, but Finn was practically tied by an invisible tether to Emily, refusing to let her leave his sight. He stays still when she cries into his fur on a quiet afternoon, grief heavy in the air. He licks the tears from her face and lays on her lap when their house is full of guests giving their condolences. He doesn’t bark at Aaron, like he normally did when he was hugging Emily, and instead lets her find comfort in his arms. 

“Emily? Have you seen Finn?” She hears Aaron call out from their kitchen. She glances around their office and is about to call out that he wasn’t with her when she hears a loud crash and an exasperated Finn Hotchner.

She opens her office door to find Finn staring up at her, his fur caked in dirt with a trail of mud tracked on their hardwood floor. Jack comes into view, home from college for the summer, with a sheepish smile on his face. They had probably played with the hose in the garden - one of Finn’s favorite past times on hot days. She can hear Aaron yelling expletives in the kitchen and she simply bursts into laughter. 

This was her family.

Mud on hardwood floors and all.

And she wouldn't change them for the world.

--

[aaesuki]

pairing: osamu x reader

genre: angst

cw/tw: cheating

summary: the red flags were all laid in front of you, but maybe you just didn’t want to acknowledge them

The first sign was the sweet smell of flowers that started to permeate your house.

Osamu had brought home a small bouquet of red-pink dahlias.

“Is that for me?” you joked, taking the bouquet from his arms. The dahlias smelled sweet.

“A flower shop just opened across the street. I went to welcome the owner and she gave some flowers as a thank you.” Osamu ruffled your hair and kissed your forehead. “I’m gonna to take a shower, then we can eat dinner.

You placed the flowers in a new vase your mother gave you next to the bed stand and a picture frame.

The second sign was when he forgot his lunch.

“That’s odd,” you thought “Osamu doesn’t usually forget his lunches. I’ll make him some and bring it to him at the shop.” The thought of seeing him hard at work put a smile on your face while you started preparing the rice. Osamu was never light on his criticism of your onigiri, but he ate it nonetheless.

As you finished up the last onigiri, you quickly shot Osamu a text telling him that you were going to bring him his lunch. After everything was neatly wrapped up, you got into your car and drove to the shop.

~

“Good afternoon!” the workers greeted you. It seemed like Osamu had hired some new people. The young boy at the register didn’t appear to recognize you.

“Osamu forgot his lunch today so I’m bringing it to him.” One of the older workers raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“He went out for lunch with the lady that works in the flower shop. He didn’t say you were coming though.”

“Ah no big deal. I thought he just forgot to make lunch. I’ll just leave it here.” When you went to place the small lunch box on Osamu’s table, you noticed that he didn’t bring his phone with him. His phone lit up with various texts from Atsumu, telling him that he was stopping by later, Kita, informing him that his granny wanted some of his onigiri, and from a name you didn’t know, agreeing to lunch. That must’ve been the flower lady. 

You felt a bit wary, but went home when Osamu didn’t return to the shop after 20 minutes.

~

The recognizable jingle of Osamu’s key told you he was home. 

“I’m home.” he said as he hung up his coat. 

He started walking to the bedroom when you spoke up. “You didn’t tell me that you didn’t need lunch today.”

“I went out for lunch with the girl across the street.”

“Could’ve at least told me. I just wasted an entire two cups of rice,” you rolled your eyes. Something was wrong. You haven’t felt so on edge in a long time.

“Whatever, I’ll tell you next time,” he brushed you off. 

“Next time?” you wanted to snap. But you told yourself that you shouldn’t feel skeptical just because he found someone to eat lunch with. “A very pretty and polite someone,” you thought bitterly “Probably has an obnoxious giggle too.”

“I think I’ll go to bed early today. I already ate dinner,” he said as he got ready to shower.

Osamu slept on the couch that night.

The third sign was the peculiar charges on his credit card.

There were payments for a dress, a teddy bear (even worse, it was pink), and an expensive diamond necklace, none of which you had received in the past month.

Your hands became slick with sweat, your heart beating quick. Suddenly, everything clicked. The wilted flowers that were always being replaced, the small lunchbox that hadn’t been used in two months, the nights alone in bed, the short, clipped replies. You didn’t even remember the last time Osamu looked into your eyes.

Tears started rolling down your warm cheeks as you realized: he had fallen in love with another. 

The formerly warm, cozy house was now filled with muffled sobs and quick breaths. 

Was it because you weren’t pretty enough? Were you not nice enough? Was he so unsatisfied with your relationship that he felt the need to find love in another woman’s arms?

Osamu wouldn’t be home until 10 pm. You had time. You walked to the bedroom and started packing your clothes when you saw the picture frame next to the vase. It was a picture of you and Osamu on your first date. You remembered feeling nervous and pleasantly surprised that you had landed a date with the Miya Osamu. You carefully took it out of the frame and ripped it into pieces. Seeing the scattered pieces made you feel oddly satisfied.

After you packed all your bags and drove them to your friend’s house, you waited patiently for Osamu to return from work.

~

Before Osamu even walks through the front door, he knows something is wrong: the lights are on. He sees you on the couch, but instead of your pajamas, you’re wearing a thick jacket.

“Where are you going?” he tries.

“Osamu,” you look down at your hands and start playing with them “Do you still love me?”

Osamu stops in his tracks. Did he? “Let’s talk this out. No need to be suspicious.”

“Answer the question, Osamu,” you stand up. “Why are you buying her gifts? Why are you coming home so late?”

Panic settles into Osamu’s chest. The only thing on his mind right now is making you stay. “I only gave those to her as friends. Please, just sit down. Of course I still love yo-”

“Do you still love me or are you just desperate?” you finally did it. Osamu, oddly, was crying and grabbing onto your wrist. But he doesn’t say anything. The pain in your chest is unbearable and you feel the sting of tears forming in your eyes. You shake your wrist from his hand. A deep breath. “There’s no point in this relationship if you don’t love me anymore.”

With the silence that follows, you close the front door shut.

[suituuup]

pieces - chapter one

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca sees her again in the most unexpected place.

rating: M (drug abuse, mention of sexual abuse in later chapters) word count: 2,100

ao3 link

*

“Any messages, Gina?”

Beca Mitchell strode out of the elevator, high heels clicking on marble flooring on her way to her office.

Her assistant rushed to walk alongside her, notebook opened as she handed Beca her second coffee of the day, which Beca took with an appreciative smile.

“Mr. Mendes needs to push back his meeting to Thursday, and Mr. Hozier-Byrne is waiting for a call back, preferably before 2 as he’s five hours ahead.”

Beca rounded the corner to her office and dragged her leather desk chair back, shrugging off her woolen trench coat and draping it over the back. “Got it, remind me what I have planned today?”

“You’re having lunch with Mr. Zimmer at the Plaza to discuss Jesse’s project, and apart from the weekly team meeting at five, you’re expected at Edgy Reggie’s party from 10 pm at the Sapphire.”

A groan surfaced from Beca’s throat and her eyes slammed shut as she plopped down on her chair. “I forgot about that. Luke can’t go?”

Gina winced and shook her head. “Family dinner.”

“Family dinner, my ass. His whole family lives back in fucking England,” Beca muttered before she could help it, throwing her assistant an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Thanks, Gina. Hold my calls until ten, please?”

“Of course, Ms. Mitchell.”

As she did every morning while sipping her coffee, Beca listened to demos over the next hour, forwarding them to Luke if any of those yet-unknown artists spiked her interest enough to sign them into their label.

The rest of the day consisted of two meetings, a dozen calls, countless email exchanges, and not enough studio time. A thick blanket of darkness had veiled the city by the time she closed her laptop and called it a day. She stretched her neck and took a moment to gaze at the lit skyscrapers through her floor to ceiling windows, sighing softly.

It was sometimes weird to think about how this was her life. How the asocial, grumpy freshman from thirteen years ago had made it to the top of the music business and now co-owned one of the biggest labels throughout the country.

Scratch that, throughout the  world.  

Snapping out of her daze, Beca stood and slipped on her coat, plucking her phone off the desk to call herself a Lyft home. She had just about time to take a shower and eat dinner before heading to that stupid party.

*

Beca could think of a million things she’d rather be doing right now as she strode down the wet sidewalk towards the lit  GIRLS  red neon sign in the distance a couple of hours later.

She told herself one drink, an hour tops, then she could head home, put on her pajamas, and finish that true-crime TV show she started yesterday.

“Name?” A dude bulkier than the freaking Rock asked her as she made it to the club door.

“Um, Beca Mitchell. I’m Edgy Reggie’s producer.”

Her artist had privatized a strip-club for his celebration party over his album hitting Platinum, and Beca couldn’t  not  show up, as... well, he was an important client and brought her label the big bucks.

The guy checked his clipboard and nodded, hitching his thumb over his shoulder. “You’re good to go.”

Casting the bouncer a nod, Beca ducked inside the dimmed, crowded club, wincing at the crappy music heavily pumping through the speakers. Three girls in bikinis and heels stood on platforms, twisting their bodies around dancing poles as dozens of dudes reclined back in leather sofas, shamelessly ogling their forms.

Beca’s nose crinkled as she scanned the room for her artist.

“Yo, Beca!”

Her gaze snapped to the left corner, catching sight of Edgy Reggie (he didn’t want to change his stage name, no matter how much Beca insisted) waving her over.

“Hey,” she cast him a tight-lipped smile, tucking her straight hair behind her ears. She nodded at the other dudes sitting around the low table. “What’s up.”

“Guys, this is the girl behind the magic of my album,” Edgy Reggie explained, throwing an arm over her shoulders before Beca could squirm away. “She is  fire. ”

Beca chuckled awkwardly, then pointed over her shoulder. “I’m gonna go get myself a drink.”

Maybe two come to think of it, so she could get herself through this.

She headed to the bar and ordered an old-fashioned, fishing in the inside of her coat pocket for her credit card.

“Thanks,” she muttered when the barmaid (also clad in a bikini that left very little to the imagination) came back with her drink, handing her her card just as the club’s speaker made an announcement.

“Ladies and Gentleman, please welcome to the stage…  Ariel! ”

The crowd cheered and hooted, Beca glancing over her shoulder to see what all the fuss was about.

There was no amount of alcohol that could have prepared her for the scene unfolding before her.

There, on the main stage, strutted in a redhead, only wearing a silver g-string and high heels. Beca would have recognized that shade of hair anywhere, and while the lighting in the club was low, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that this girl -- Ariel -- was her former best friend.

Her former best friend who had dropped from the face of the Earth almost five years ago, without so much as an explanation. She hadn’t just stopped talking to Beca, but to all of them, even Aubrey. She was nowhere to be found on social media and when Beca had tried calling her after six months without news, she found out Chloe’s phone number had been disconnected. It wasn’t like they talked on a daily basis before that. After three years spent living on opposite sides of the country, the texts started coming further in between, their communication coming down to a few check-ins a year and on birthdays, until they eventually stopped.

Fearing the worst, Aubrey had called Chloe’s parents, who assured her she was fine, working as a vet in NYC and in a committed relationship. While relieved, the news stung Beca, as it was clear Chloe had deliberately ceased contact.

It took some time, but Beca eventually stopped thinking about her so much, especially when she started getting successful as a music producer and pouring her time and energy into her projects. She soon won her first Grammys, Gold, and Platinum records featured in notorious magazines and talk shows. She could stop working tomorrow and money wouldn’t become an issue, but Beca didn’t like to boast about her fortune, or fame, for that matter.

Despite being insanely busy, she still kept in touch with the other Bellas in their group chat, but she hadn’t seen any of them in a couple of years, missing the last reunion because of her job.

Beca’s mind steered back to the present, where the once most important person in her life was currently dancing for money. Men were staring hungrily at her as she sensually moved around the pole or bent over with her ass in the air to collect dollar bills from the floor, and Beca suddenly felt sick.

This couldn’t be her dream job, right? Something  had  to have happened for her to settle for this.

Beca grabbed her drink and knocked it back, flagging the barmaid down for another as her mind reeled as to what to do.

She needed to talk to Chloe. In private. Tonight, as soon as she finished… parading in front of these disgusting fuckboys. Only… she wasn’t sure Chloe wanted to talk to her.

“Hey,” she said when the barmaid came back as an idea struck. “How do I get a private lap dance with one of the girls?”

The girl raised a surprised eyebrow. “Backroom, hun. Who do you want?”

“Ariel.”

The platinum blonde let out a curt laugh. “Ariel doesn’t do lap dances, babe.”

Beca’s eyebrows knitted together in a heavy frown. “Why not?”

“Because she’s the boss’ favorite.”

Beca didn’t know what that meant exactly, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out as another wave of nausea swept over her insides. “Is your boss here tonight?”

The barmaid scanned the room quickly, nodding. “He’s the guy over there in the suit.”

“Thanks.” She took her drink and headed over to where the fifty-something dude was talking to another guy. Stepping up to them, she ignored their glares over her interrupting their conversation. “Hey. Are you the manager?”

The dude who looked like he ran a mafia mob turned a bit more towards her. “What’s this about?”

“How much for a private dance with Ariel?”

His gaze flickered over Beca’s shoulder towards the stage, then sized Beca up, unimpressed. “She’s not available, kid.”

Beca gritted her teeth at the condescending tone of his voice. “Not even for ten grand for twenty minutes?”

He slow-blinked, then burst out laughing. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m being serious. Ten grand, twenty minutes. Alone in a room, just the two of us.”

The man’s expression hardened. “And I said she’s not  available .”

“Twenty grand.” Hell, she’d throw half a million on the table if that’s what was needed to talk to Chloe. After a beat, she added, “And no touching. That’s not what I’m here for.”

The manager seemed to consider her offer for a handful of seconds. “You got the money?”

Dammit.  She couldn’t withdraw that much right now, she needed to call her bank. “Tomorrow night.”

He smirked, snickering. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He turned back to his buddy, leaving Beca grumbling under her breath as she turned around and stalked out of the club. She couldn’t stay. She couldn’t stand the sight of Chloe objectifying her body for money.

As soon as she got home, Beca fired up her computer and typed in Chloe’s name in her browser. Apart from old stuff on the Bellas, she found nothing relevant. Chloe appeared to still be MIA from any social media.

Beca grabbed her phone and scrolled through her contacts, bringing the device to her ear.

“What’s wrong?”  

“How do you know something’s wrong?”

“We call each other twice a year on our respective birthdays and stick to the Bellas chat for the rest.”  

Beca nibbled on her bottom lip. “I found Chloe.”

A long stretch of silence on the other end of the line followed.  “What?”  

“I saw her tonight, Aubrey.”

“Where??”

“At a strip club. She’s… a stripper.”

“What? Did you talk to her?”  

“No. She was performing on stage. But I will. I’m… buying a lap dance from her tomorrow. I figured… she’ll have to listen to me since she’s being paid for it.” Her eyes slammed shut, scrunching up her nose. “I don’t know. It might be a bad idea, but-- I just wanna make sure she’s okay, you know?”

“Yes, of course. Keep me posted?”  

“I will. Talk to you soon.”

Beca shuffled to bed after that, but sleep never came. Her mind kept reeling about Chloe, about what she might say to her once they were face to face, and the possibility that Chloe might shoot her down and refuse to talk to her.

She spent her Saturday trying and failing to make some progress on an ongoing project, willing time to tick faster so she could head back to the club. Mid-afternoon, she headed to the bank to withdraw twenty grand, tucking the envelope in her purse.

“Why does it feel like you’re doing something illegal, Beca?” She muttered to herself on her way out of the bank, slightly paranoid about carrying so much cash on her.

The club was just as crowded when she got there around 10 pm. A different girl danced on the main stage and the manager was nowhere in sight, so Beca perched herself on a stool at the bar, ordering herself another old-fashioned.

“Is your boss around?” She asked the barmaid, a different girl from last night.

“Who’s asking?”

“Tell him the person who wants Ariel is here.”

The girl’s eyebrows shot up at that but she didn’t say anything, nodding before strutting away. Beca sipped at her drink for the next twenty minutes, keeping her back to the stage.

The manager eventually appeared in her peripheral, and he leaned an elbow over the counter, lacing his fingers. “So what’s so special about Ariel?”

Beca slowly set her drink down and fished for the envelope, pushing it towards him while keeping her gaze straight ahead. “I like redheads.”

He plucked the envelope off the counter and peered inside. Twenty stacks of ten hundred dollar bills in exchange for twenty minutes with Chloe.

He nodded. “Follow me.”

Beca finished the rest of her drink, the alcohol managing to muffle her nerves some as she followed the manager towards the back of the club, and down a set of stairs. Her heart pumped hard in her ears and her palms started to sweat as she was led inside a dimly lit room with a handful of sofa chairs and a small stage with a dancing pole, some kind of music that seemed straight out of a porno carrying through the speakers. A spiral staircase was tucked in the right corner, and she guessed that is where the strippers made their entrance from.

Beca wondered how far things usually went in these kinds of private rooms.

She wondered how far  Chloe  went.

She cast the guy a tight-lipped smile and a nod before he closed the door, and paced the room for a little while, eventually lowering herself on one of the leather chairs and wiping her palms on her designer slacks.

The clicking of heels over metal made Beca’s spine snap straighter. She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder as the steps grew nearer, digging her nails into her thighs as a new round of nerves gripped her insides.

“Good evening, sweetheart,” the huskiness of Chloe’s voice made Beca swallow, and she felt a hand run over her shoulders as Chloe approached from behind.

Glancing up, Beca met familiar, ocean blues.