#look I know we don’t ever actually meet Tesla but I love her your honor

[corgiss]

desperately want to write a multichapter au fic where Tesla is alive and okay and therefore Knives never lost his faith in humanity and the three of them are just hanging out being annoying siblings in the desert. But idk who the fuck would be the antagonist in that case orz

[theawkwardterrier]

things left behind and the things that are ahead, ch. 41

AO3 link here

Although it doesn’t exactly happen often, Tony isn’t taken totally by surprise when his uncle Steve calls and says that he’ll be in the city next week and would like to have lunch. Steve makes it up to New York every few months to visit Rose or Bucky and Layla, to spend time with Maria. Sometimes he comes through on his way to visit Her Honor and family in Boston or on the way home again. He and Tony are more likely to see each other at bigger group occasions like holidays and celebrations (or funerals, though Tony puts that out of his mind; his mom still lives on her own, takes elegant care of herself, and is spry and sharp as hell despite being past her eightieth birthday) but Steve’s always been a family man, committed to keeping in touch with everyone. Tony and Pepper just received a hand-illustrated card from him on their anniversary a couple weeks back, and the one he sent Jude, decorated with multicolored trumpeting elephants, still has nightstand pride of place even though most of the actual birthday presents have been relegated back to the toy chest.

He tells Steve this as they sit down to lunch together in the cafe on the ground floor of the Stark Industries building, and it actually brings out a smile. Ruby and Trent from VR are passing by the table and double take seeing it, both automatically smiling back. It’s on the tip of Tony’s tongue to say something about how ol’ Steve’s still got it, but that’s a particular sort of smart remark that belongs to a time before Peggy passed.

(Although it’s been several years now, no one has even suggested that Steve look for some companionship or try one of those senior dating sites. The man talks about filling his days with gardening and book club and volunteering, regularly spending time with Emma and Nate and whichever of the grandkids and great-grandkids live locally, but he doesn’t or maybe can’t hide the crater left without his wife by his side. When Tony pictures Steve in the Maryland house these days, he has to stop because he somehow always imagines a single plate at the kitchen table and a tick-tick-ticking in the background: the hallway grandfather clock that he can’t remember ever actually paying attention to, overwhelmed as it always has been by conversation during family gatherings hosted there. The whole thing makes him sad as hell.)

As they start in on their first course, a butternut squash bisque - yes, there’s a first course; this place is damn classy - Steve asks about Tony’s kids, and he’s only too happy to whip out his phone and show off pictures (and then video, but who’s keeping score?) first of Jude all dressed up as a chef in the When We Grow Up-themed kindergarten end of year play, then of AJ’s science fair display, zooming in on all the aspects including the bright blue second place ribbon. He even shows off Morgan’s latest choice for their two-person book club, which he has in ebook and audio. The whole time, Steve watches him with a strange sort of expression, clearly taking in the information, asking questions, smiling at Tony’s stories, but with some odd barrier up.

“It’s Wednesday,” Tony mentions as they take the first bites from their slices of cake. “If you can stick around until 3:30, I’m sure they’d love to see you.”

He’s continued the tradition from his youth, bringing his own kids into the office at least once a week starting even before they could walk. Those are some of his best childhood memories, sitting on lab stools with his father and brainstorming ways to make interesting explosions, his feet dangling two feet above the floor, having his dad look over at him in meetings and say, “So, what do you think, Tony?” Walking home, lunch bag swinging, his small hand clasped in a larger one to help him safely across the streets, waving to Jarvis as they went upstairs to build block towers together. Sometimes he’d do his homework when there was paperwork to take care of, and it was always a laugh to ask for help with history or French (“Call me when you’re learning about Newton or Tesla,” Dad used to protest. “And don’t even tell your mother that you asked me about anything in French.”) He hopes that he’s passing on the same type of memories.

“I think we should see how today goes,” says Steve. He smiles again and Tony wants to squint at it, hold it beneath the microscope, it’s such a complicated looking thing: that pure, good-hearted happiness, but with pain and nostalgia and something that might be doubt quirking at the edges. Not entirely unusual for him over the last few years, but Tony’s starting to suspect that Uncle Steve has more secrets than just the Captain America thing and that he might be about to find one out.

The Captain America thing: even though it’s put to bed now, if Tony thinks about it, he can still feel the...not even irritation, but hurt, from when he’d found out.

It had been Pepper who started it, after they’d dated for a bit, when he’d suggested starting to bring her to family things. She’d met his parents, the Barnses, Steve and Peggy and their kids, at various functions or at the office over the years, but when it had been time to introduce her as his girlfriend, she’d wanted to prepare. She’d asked questions and gathered information, profiled everyone, and the more she’d delved, the fewer answers he’d realized he had. He remembered that Peggy and Steve got together five years or so after the war, but had also grown up hearing their stories - and Bucky’s, and his dad’s - from working together during the war. He could trace Howard and Peggy between the SSR and forming SHIELD, but Steve and Bucky were completely off the map.

Finally, on the Fourth of July, after he’d had a couple of drinks and watched Peggy kiss Steve’s cheek and hand him a cupcake with a single candle, the way she did each Independence Day Tony had been with them for no reason he could fathom, he’d just asked. His mother had placed a hand on his arm, and Peggy said, “Ah.” But he’d watched Steve, took in the way he’d leaned forward and clasped his hands together before he said, “Listen, Tony.”

When the words were finally in the charcoal-scented air around them, he wasn’t exactly surprised by them, they added up, but he couldn’t believe that he hadn’t been told. It had grown even worse when he’d cornered Drea asking about it and she’d said that her father had sat them down and told them all decades before, while Tony was still in high school, and that Tony hadn’t been a part of that. As if everyone had just decided that they didn’t need to tell him. As if there had been the whole family, knowing this, and then him, alone.

Steve claimed responsibility, apologized right. He always did: “I handled it badly. I should have told you earlier, personally. I know it made you feel excluded.” And Tony had forgiven him, had even forgiven the rest of the Carters after talking more with Drea and then the others. After he’d heard how hurt she’d been, too, finding out that her father with whom she’d shared so much had this part of his life about which she knew nothing, as if she’d barely known him; how she’d burrowed in with the information, trying to puzzle through it, come to grips with the way it changed and didn’t change her whole past. They told him the story of how Rose shattered her wine glass in the middle of the restaurant when Steve had first said it and that every time she spoke to her parents for the next month, she’d interrogate them and wind up yelling. All these years later, Emma still seemed to let the fact of it slide out of her mind. Her life is picket fences and politics, and it is as if she doesn't want it to sink in, this other and simultaneous identity of her father.

(Tony’s actually seen Nate bring it up casually - “Oh, is that the time when you and the Commandos were in France?” or asking about growing up with a host of chronic conditions - but there are plenty of reasons why Nate Carter and Tony are different and that’s just one.)

Even though the splinter of the secret has been removed, healed over, there’s still an odd reminder of it, a feeling of trepidation, as he and Steve take the elevator up. He almost stops at Pepper’s floor to say hello, push off a little longer whatever might be coming, but he knows that she has a meeting, and he’ll have to handle whatever it is anyway.

The lights flip on as they walk in, and Tony absently says, “Thanks, TESLA,” as he gestures Steve over to one of the work benches. He does have an actual desk and the old computer parts he has spread out aren’t repair priorities, aren’t really anything more than something to play around with, but he has the feeling he’s going to want to do something with his hands while they get down to business.

“So,” Tony says as Steve brings over a chair, “what’s going on?”

Steve sits before he speaks. He touches the cool top of the table with the tips of his fingers. He says, very carefully, “There’s something I have to tell you.”

Ten minutes later, Tony has pushed the broken computer away and rested his hands flat on the table. “Time travel,” he says flatly. “You need help with time travel.”

“The time travel I have worked out,” Steve says, infuriatingly calm. “Or, it was worked out for me. It’s the reality hopping part in particular that I thought I’d ask you about. And I might need you to dip into the old lab storage for some Pym particles.”

“Pym—” Tony starts disbelievingly, then shakes his head, adding, “And of course you want to go to Greenland,” like the teacher’s pet giving a reminder about the homework assignment.

Steve actually glances down before he forces his gaze back up. “I don’t have to go - I have the coordinates, and the land is yours - but I’d like to...It feels wrong to just send someone without any ceremony.”

“Course it does,” Tony mutters, almost laughing. It doesn’t even occur to him that Steve’s not telling the truth - Steve’s not a liar, and nowhere close to senile - but the whole thing is ridiculous. He picks up an old Starkbook and a screwdriver again, cracking open the back in rapid twists. “You’re telling me that you’re actually a version of a Steve Rogers from another reality who traveled back in time seventy years ago, that the original Steve Rogers is still frozen in an iceberg while you lived an entire life, fiddled around with the timeline, and now you need to pop back over to where you came from for what? A quick chat? Sunday dinner?”

“To say goodbye.” Steve doesn’t say it as an admonishment. His words are quiet, almost internal. “I have people there who meant a lot to me, who mean a lot to me, and even if I’ve run into versions of them here, accidentally or on purpose, it’s not the same. They deserve to know what happened.” He doesn’t even meet Tony’s eye. Tony somehow feels chastised anyway. He swallows.

“Who knows about this?” he asks, a little more softly this time.

“Bucky knows some of what might have happened.” Tony almost starts to demand what exactly the some of it might be, but then Steve adds, “Your father knew that I’d come back. I’m not sure whether he told your mother.”

Tony twists the screwdriver hard enough that he almost strips the screw. “Seventy years ago, you showed up and told my dad you’d come from another time, but what, you didn’t trust him enough to tell him more than that?” His voice drops, fierce and low, as the next screw is released too quickly and with too much force, pinging off the table and getting lost beneath. “As if the two of you were perfect, as if you could be objective about everything, take care of it all. Saint Steve and Blessed Peggy. It must have been you and her, you would have told her everything so she could have worked it from the inside—”

Steve barks, “Tony,” suddenly on his feet, and it occurs to Tony that Steve might actually be able to beat him up, despite being...God, he can’t even track how old at this point, but certainly old enough for it to be embarrassing.

“Don’t talk about Peggy like that.” Steve’s voice is softer now but bitten to the quick. “I know I’ve just put a lot on you, and you can yell at me all you want for being arrogant or dishonest, whatever you’d like, but just...Not about her, alright?”

Aunt Peg would have given him that quiet, cold, imperious look if she were with them now. Tony pushes back on his heels thinking of it. And if his dad were here...he’d probably say that he trusted Steve and Peggy and didn’t trust himself enough to know these things. There had never been any sign that Howard Stark had been unfaithful in his marriage, and Tony hopes that his mother would have left if there had been, but Tony remembers the unconscious, appreciative way his father’s eyes would follow a pretty woman across the room at a party, his head turning quickly there and back again in the street, a habit he couldn’t seem to break, like his cigars and his whiskey, all those late nights, those flares of temper. If you couldn’t avoid those little weaknesses, you couldn’t let yourself be in charge of knowing the future, much less changing it.

“Wait,” says Tony, something catching up with him, snagging in his throat. “Wait. Why wouldn’t you have warned him about the heart attack? If you knew, if you’d already been changing stuff, why didn’t you tell him to go to a doctor, get imaging, just eat better, shit.”

“There are things,” says Steve, “that even I don’t know. I didn’t know that he would die that way, Tony, I swear. The first...In the other timeline, he died earlier, and differently.” He slides his hands into his pockets, and the quiet strength of him is obvious as he meets Tony’s eyes instead of glancing away. “But I did tell him to eat better anyway.”

Steve had been a statue at the funeral, Tony remembers that. He’d thought that it was because of the suddenness, Howard grappling to host that year’s Thanksgiving dinner one minute and gone the next, or because the guys from the war had started to pass recently and it hurt to see your old friends going, the ones who had been there for so long, who held your youth, shared your memories. Later, he’d even wondered if Steve had held himself so still and silent because Tony was trembling and needed someone to lean on; Steve had certainly let him do that, no matter what else was going on. But now he peers differently at the memory of the tight clutch of Steve and Peggy’s hands, the way Steve had said, “I’m so sorry, Tony,” at the graveside, not only condolence but apology - he sees the guilt in it now, the burden.

Tony hooks a chair with his foot and drops into it. “Okay,” he says, scrubbing both palms over his face. “Okay. Tell me what you can.”

And as Steve begins to speak, he starts to understand not only how deep this one man’s collapse might have been but how deep the world’s too. War and the lightly done destruction of the planet, Bucky taken and tortured, Hydra - Hydra, which was from history textbooks, which was a sidebar in history textbooks - beneath everything, and then...

“Half the universe,” he says, turning over the words in his mouth. A minute ago he didn’t even know for sure that there was more than their little corner to consider (and he definitely has a few more questions for Steve about aliens). Now he tries to picture individual blades of grass on other planets, all the disappeared foxes and ferns and pets and coral, animals he doesn’t know and can’t describe. The people, even if he might not recognize them as such right away. The parents and children.

For just a second he imagines Pepper and their kids, the idea of one or two or three or all of them disappearing, but has to cut off even the conjured thought; the shrapnel gasp of it is too much and he rubs his knuckles over his chest to try to erase the horror of it. He tries to think through just the logistics of it all: what if he’d gone and after three years or four Pep had married someone else? Who was she really married to and who was she expected to divorce? What if someone adopted your kids? Jesus, the therapists would have full schedules if nothing else, because even if it was reversed, it had happened. Somewhere out there, all that had happened.

He shakes his head, twitchy. “Even with what you came back knowing, how could you be sure that the strings you were pulling on were the right ones, the ones that would help things?”

Steve gives a single-beat laugh. “I’ve spent nearly twice your lifetime wondering.” He shifts his body and the light - not the bright lab fixtures but that high, brilliant sun coming through the windows, a reminder that it is still only midafternoon - edges onto his face just so, revealing the sharp cut of time landscaping his cheeks and forehead, running beside his eyes, tied tightly around his mouth.

“Peggy and I talked about it all forever. I think we did what we could, did well enough even if it sometimes didn’t seem like it. But I also think that there’s probably a world out there where we did it all better.”

“Then there’s probably a world out there where you did it worse,” Tony offers, and somehow it makes Steve smile.

“From what I’ve seen, I’d bet that there’s a version for every decision you can imagine. One where I didn’t go back, or one where I went back and only told Peggy where to look in the ice but didn’t stay. One where I never went into the ice at all. One where I died as a kid, or from the serum, or in the war, or during the crash. A whole bunch, probably, where Dr. Erskine decided to give Peggy the serum instead.” His voice grows quiet; he seems to hold the words close. “One where she wore blue to our wedding instead of white, and one where she wore red. One where she became president, and one where she decided she’d finished with meetings and went back to being an agent. One where we decided not to have any kids, and one where she was able to carry them, and one where we adopted some other kids who some other me loves just as much as I do mine.”

They sit in silence for a moment, then: “Have you told them about this?” Tony asks. “Will you?”

A sigh, and Tony remembers with a strange, electric chill that this man - Uncle Steve, Grant Carter, Captain America, Steve Rogers - this man will one day die, lifetime strung against lifetime finally at an end.

“Your life,” Steve says, “turned out in many ways the same. Here or there: smart and wealthy, philanthropist, father. I can’t say for certain that it would be the same for my kids. And I know that they’re strong people, and I hope that I’ve helped them find solid foundations, but I don’t know that I can torture them with the idea of what might have been, of what might be, somewhere out there.”

Tony thinks suddenly of standing with Rose at some family thing, probably three or four years back. He’d asked if she ever considered what might have been if she’d been made a judge. Fairly insensitive, he realized now - it had been pretty soon after they’d found out that Drea had been on the shortlist to replace Justice Ginsburg - but Rose had just cackled gleefully. He remembers turning his head at the sound: her mother was already dying - truly dying, not only the sort that starts the day someone is born - and it had been a while since he’d heard one of the Carters laugh freely like that. Her eyes had a delighted razor’s edge to them, and he’d sort of understood how opposing counsel must feel when Rose Carter showed up for a meeting.

“They’d have to have stopped caring about judges keeping any claim to objectivity,” she had said. “But think of how I’d run my courtroom, all those acidic opinions I could write!” She’d cackled again. “Imagine that sort of alternate universe.”

One part of Tony, a part that sounds quite a lot like Steve himself, considers rigorous honesty, the lies by kind omission that can poison things just as easily as those meant maliciously. But another part, the side of him that sneaks dollar bills beneath the pillow for each lost tooth, that smooths sweaty, rumpled hair and says, “I’m here, don’t worry, I’ll always be here” during storms or after nightmares, the part that hesitated before placing Morgan, not yet two weeks old, into Steve’s arms, even as he felt that he might remember being held securely there himself, the part of him that’s a parent...that part understands.

She’ll turn seventy in a couple of years, Rose Carter. What purpose will it serve to tell her this, to have her wonder not only about worlds where she might have been a judge, but those where she never became a lawyer, never found her career or her family, where she might have been raised by people with different ideas about how to handle an incandescently angry child or a young woman who had no interest in romance, worlds where she was never taken in at all? What need is there to tell her, to tell all the Carters, if it meant turning those thoughts from something coming across the brain for a second, easily brushed aside, to true possibilities, if not for them than for some other version out there?

Finding out that their father had once upon a time gone by another name, that he had been more than the average soldier during the war, those things might require some adjustment, but this life, their life together, their memories, remained largely the same. This could turn the entire universe to quicksand.

Tony clears his throat. “I’m guessing whatever—” He waves a hand. “Your supersuit, or your time machine, the TARDIS...it’s not with you here?”

“No,” says Steve. “I didn’t want it to get misplaced on the train.”

As if it’s just another piece of luggage and he didn’t want to set them up for some sort of hijinks. “Okay, well, I’m coming down to meet with the NSF in a couple of weeks. I’ll swing by to take a look then.”

“Thank you. That sound goo—”

Steve is cut off by TESLA’s voice, bright and warm and synthetic. “Reminder: it is 3:20. Please cease working and prepare to greet the children.”

“I can go before they get here,” Steve offers, standing.

“What, you’re gonna scale the side of the building, old man?” The words arrive without Tony thinking about them. Even as he has a sense of unreality, trying to let himself have both the life he did two hours ago and this new concept of everything, he shrugs into the familiarly smart remark like an old coat that turns out to still fit.

Tony stands too, comes closer, places a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I told you, the kids’ll love to see you.”

“Alright,” and even though it sounds a little shaky and sad, Steve’s smile looks real.

As TESLA reports that the kids are in the elevator on the way up, accompanied by their babysitter, Pepper’s niece Callie, Tony thinks to ask, “How did you know that I’d help you?”

Steve’s smile turns deeper, somehow more amused and more sad at once. “You helped me then, over there,” he says. “And you’d punched me quite a bit more than you have here.”

“Wait,” says Tony, turning toward him. “What?” But the doors open just then, Jude and AJ racing each other in, shrieking in endlessly delighted purposelessness, Mo coming more sedately after them, eyes big and observant behind those new glasses, and Tony just opens his arms to them all.

More chapters here

[dramaqueeenamby]

Waves {drabble}

A/N: Well. Not too happy with this one. It was supposed to be based on @petit-funsize (WHAT IS YOUR NEW @ MA’AM) request for additional scenes of these two while Summer was pregnant, and while this does tackle that.....meh.

Words: 1.5K 

masterlist

Warnings: None

TAGLIST: @kpizzletrash @letsshamelessqueen-m @forbeautyandlife @90sinspiredgirl @honeyybey @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes @hello-therree @brittyevans @afro-royalty @periodtcevans @babygirlofwakanda @ERATOTALLES @blackandnoir @tntnv @chaneajoyyy @missyperle 

WAVES

“What about this?”

“Christopher.”

“It gets pretty decent mileage.”

“Christopher!”

“I’m thinking red.”

“Sir, if you do not stop this nonsense.”

“Since when is planning nonsense?”

“Baby, you’re talking about getting cars for children who aren’t even born yet!”

“I fail to see the problem.”

“You-“ Summer closed her eyes and shook her head. “How about we focus on things that we actually need now and not 16 years from now.”

He scoffed. “Excuse me for trying to be a good papa. Didn’t know that was a problem.”

“You’re going to be an amazing papa, Christopher without spending a ridiculous amount of money on cars that they won’t be able to use for over a decade.”

His eyes widened with excitement. “What about the little motorized ones?” Summer stopped in the middle of her brushing to turn toward him. “Come on. For their mobility!”

“I am seriously about to throw this brush at your big ass head.”

“I’m not the one who keeps stretching bonnets.” He quickly ducked as she lived up to her threat. “Now what did that solve?”

Summer threw her head back and groaned. One hand going to her back and the other to her stomach, she rubbed her growing belly.

At seven months, she was feeling every bit of her pregnancy. The twins were forever moving around, playing tag with her bladder, and reacting to every single thing that they heard. They were especially active when they heard herself or Christopher talking, and since relaying his entire day, play by play, to her stomach, became his new favorite pastime, sleeping was something that happened scarcely.

“I’m sorry.” Summer opened her eyes and immediately smiled at the soft blue eyes and childlike pout. “I’m just...so damn excited.”

“That you just can’t hide it?” She giggled at his scowl, his hand moving on top of hers. Sure enough, showtime. “Speaking of hiding, can you please tell Thing 1 and Thing 2 to take a nap or something?”

“Leave my children alone, you bully,” he defended, his other hand going to feel on her ass. He was obsessed with her pregnancy curves. “They’re getting restless in there.”

“Trust me, the feeling is mutual.” A hard kick let her know that her comment was not appreciated. “What! I wanna meet you both just as badly as your dumbass sperm donor.”

“Wow. I feel so loved.”

“You should.” She turned around in his arms, her pregnant belly forming a sort of barrier between them, prompting him to rest his hands on her hips. Christopher was big in contact. “I don’t just have children for anybody. What kind of woman do you take me for?”

“A fine ass one.” She busted her smile as he kissed on the side of her neck. “And mine.”

“Asterisk.”

“Shut up.”

Christopher eventually allowed Summer to finish getting ready, and 30 minutes and a sleeked down top bun later, she was ready to go out.

It was her first outing in about two weeks as she’d grown frustrated with the constant sneaking and following by the paparazzi whenever she tried to go out and engage as a normal person.

Both Summer and Christopher had taken a sort of break from social media following their completion of the Infinity War promo. They didn’t go out as much either, both the parents to be focused on preparing for the birth of their children.

Unfortunately, given their international fame and status, everyone was expecting what felt like monthly updates on one of Hollywood’s favorite couples.

However, neither Summer or Christopher were interested in making a thing of her pregnancy. They wanted to celebrate in private and without the judgmental and watchful eyes of the outside world.

“This is cute.” Summer mumbled, lifting up a pink and black floral onesie. “I like it.”

Christopher looked over and nodded. “Me too.” She glanced at him to see he had his phone on her, prompting her to smile and shake her head.

“Another recording?”

While the actor hadn’t engaged much in social media, it seemed like every day he had his phone on his wife. From recording her help decorate the nursery to just laying in bed, watching the movement of their energetic twins in her belly, he was capturing everything that he could.

Normally, Summer was opposed to her husband always trying to get her on camera, but not for this. This was special. These were memories.

“You got it,” he replied and moved so that he could be in view of the camera, holding up two fingers. “Just two more months, kiddos, and we’ll finally get to go to the beach.”

“You would want that to be their first outing.”

“The ocean is a magical thing, Chlorine.”

“You motherf-“ he moved forward to cover her mouth as she tried to pry at his hands.

“Your mother also can’t wait to meet you guys. She’s so excited that I had to say it for her. Isn’t that right, honey?”

He dropped his hand and Summer slyly moved her hand behind Chris’s back to pinch his skin. “Mommy just can’t wait for you guys to stop sitting on my bladder.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t listen to her. It’s an honor to have such wonderful children-“

“I can’t believe that you’re really out here recording. What’s next? A YouTube channel.”

“Who told you!”

She laughed and hugged him, resting her face on his chest as he kissed the top of her head. “We just want to hold you already. We love you.”

“Very much so.” A beat. “Hence why we’re getting you two matching Tesla’s.”

“Christopher!”

••••••••

Hand on the small of her back, Summer waddled out of the bathroom after finishing her nightly routine.

“Baby, reminds me to call your mom tomorrow. She found some more of your baby stuff that she wants to show me.”

“Yeah, sure. Of course.”

Summer sensed the distracted tone of his voice and saw that he was on his phone. Sucking her teeth, she shuffled over to their bed and snatched it out of his hands. “Hey.”

“Sir, I am sick of you and this damn book.”

Christopher and Summer’s first “date” took place while they were in the middle of filming AOU, and it really just consisted of him inviting her over to his rental where he cooked for them. During dinner, conversation transpired where playful and suggestive banter commenced.

During that conversation, the Australian shared that he was never big and still wasn’t on reading. Fast forward to years later, and every time that Summer checked in on her husband, he was downloading or reading some book on parenting.

Looking at the phone, her eyes darted do the top to check for the title.

Strong Fathers. Strong Daughters. 10 Secrets Every Father Should Know.

“Can’t I be productive?”

She gestured down to her stomach. “You already were.”

He smiled. “My best work yet.” She flicked him on his chest as he reached for the phone. “Okay. Come on. Give it back.”

“No. You’re obsessed with these damn books, and enough is enough.”

“Summer.”

“Christopher.” She matched his tone and placed the iPhone on their nightstand. Summer carefully  moved onto the bed, his arms reaching out to help her down where he welcomed her in between his legs. “Stop it. You keep reading these books and watching all these videos, and for what? You don’t need them, honey.”

He sighed. “I’m just tying to-“

“That’s just it, Christopher. You keep trying to be something that you already are.” Without waiting for him to comment, she continued. “Baby, you are an amazing husband. You’ve been so attentive and gentle with me throughout this whole thing. Even when we were filming, I know you’d go against set rules and break away from scenes just to call or even come check on me since Thing 1 and Thing 2 kept taking turns making mama want to throw up.”

“They did it with love.”

“You watch me almost every second of the damn day. Literally. You enabled Find My iPhone without even telling me. You march into the bathroom if I’m in there for more than five minutes!”

“You know now, and many a women have almost drowned in the bathroom, Sunrise!”

“And I know that you’re scared, baby. Shit, I’m scared too. There’s going to be two little rambunctious ‘us’ depending on us when we don’t even have ourselves together if you really want to go there.” She chuckled quietly. “But that’s okay, because we’re in this together, and we’re gonna mess up, sure, but we have each other, and I believe in us. I believe in you.”

“Christopher.” She moved her hands over his forearms, turning her body as best she could to look up at him. “You’re going to be the best papa ever. The kids are lucky to have you, just like I am.” A beat. “You’re freaking Thor for god’s sake.”

He laughed and pressed a warm, lingering kiss to her temple. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She smiled. “Now stop worrying, and help me up. I have to pee.”

[alrightinbed-betterwithapen]

i always tell the truth, even when i lie...

{prologue pt two: how Kova is formed}

Mob Boss!David x Reader

A/N: hey guys, so this is just blurbs about how each vlog squad member became real members of David’s gang. I left some people out just cause they don’t fit in the narrative I’m picturing. But I hope you enjoy! Strong violence ahead folks, as well as the rest of the series! A couple deaths too.

•Alex Ernst•

Alex always knew something about David was off. He always thought he saw the charming brunette hiding dead eyes behind feigned excitement. Too calculated for a boy of only nineteen. But Alex saw himself reflected in every move the man made.

Alex could relate to his friend more than anyone else he’d ever met. He instantly respected David and latched onto him. You don’t meet many people in this world who are as uncaring and unconcerned in the way they climb the ladder to the top as David and him were.

David hid behind charm and likability.

Alex hid behind innocence and religion.

Alex doesn’t say anything about it until David comes to him one evening and tells him he’s going to see their friends at the Denny house to offer them... a new business venture.

He offers it to Alex first.

Alex says yes, took you long enough, what do you need me to do, who do you need me to act as? Willing as always to take on any role he had to, to get what he wanted (or in this case what David wanted).

David knows right away Alex will always be on a different level than the rest of the crew. Alex will be more his equal than anyone else he has to corrupt.

Because he doesn’t have to corrupt him. He doesn’t have to convince him. Alex is willing and as ready as he is.

Alex is also good with guns. He talks Tomas into letting them add a large gun running operations revenue to the drug running money they’ve been laundering. (That’s the first fucking nail in the coffin for Tomas, but the large, dumb man has no idea.) The weapon buyers and sellers like Alex way better than they ever like Tomas. It’s a profitable situation for all.

In the car ride back to their apartment, leaving the first meeting with Tomas since Alex established himself with the weapons clientele, Alex says, “Your business needs a name.”

“It has a name, the Brothers’ Circle.”

“That’s the name of the cunts Tomas works for.”

“That we work for, Alex,” David facetiously reprimands, pushing to reveal the true meaning behind his friends words.

“Yeah,” he answers, looking out the window of David’s beat up Corolla, “for now.”

It makes David’s heart fill with love for the man. His best friend is thinking bigger picture just like he is. He feels validated in his internal descision to make this man the de facto co-leader of his future gang.

(Alex comes up with their name, Kova, a throwback to David’s origins and core of who he really is. A boy born in nowheresville Slovakia who’s gonna take over the world.)

•Liza Koshy•

Liza is like a lump of clay when Gabbie introduces her to David. He’s immediately drawn to her soft face and lively personality. He wants to ruin her. (Gabbie pulls him aside at the party they’re at, long before Kova was even a thought, and tells him she’s a gift. For being a good friend. And that he can make the dark skinned girl into whatever he wants her to be. “She’s young and insecure, go play.” Gabbie’s always been a dark minded girl, she used to read David like a book.)

He has fun reeling Liza in with his boyish charms and faked romantic sensibilities. She’s sooo easy. He picks apart her mind, morals and principles in one night, the night he first tells her he loves her.

He’s not lying, not really. He loves who he’s going to twist her to be. His perfect Harley Quinn. He’ll rip the compassion out of her if he has to.

He doesn’t actually have to, the girl is just a sweet little teenager looking for true love. It makes him laugh in hindsight at how simple it actually was. At how much goodness was once in the girl he’s seen curb stomp a drug dealer in the back alleys of LA because they refused to cut profits with Kova. She broke his jaw and David fucked her in his Tesla, giggling out a narrative of how the guys teeth popped out of his head while she rode him.

Liza would burn the world for David when he meets (Y/N).

She gets jealous and insecure by that fact that she needed to be programmed by David with a darkness that (Y/N) wore like skin, comfortable and natural.

You don’t pose a threat, not right away.

And if you send her into a trap, a drug drop off that was being ambushed by a rival amateur gang, that leads to her untimely death...

Well, what were you suppose to do? David would never do it. Too proud of the work that went into the weak girl.

And you wanted the man to yourself.

(He’s impressed, as you are smarter and more conniving than the guinea pig he’d been given as a present by Gabbie would ever be.)

Liza’s there at the beginning of Kova and she plays her part. Until you decide you can play it better.

But that’s a story for later...

•Gabbie Hanna•

Gabbie is easy. She wants money and attention and acceptance. She hands over her merch account info and starts finding leads to other vloggers who have a substance abuse problem. They always have friends who are as addicted as them, Gabbie explains, which is long run profitable. The girl is ruthless and David admires that about her.

She was one of his first close friends when he moved to LA. He’s stoked she’s progressing so nicely in his operation.

David includes her in his plans from the beginning, because she’s loyal and as obsessed with money as he is. But when he takes her to meet Tomas with Alex and Liza the first time, she’s so freaked out. Gabbie doesn’t grasp the severity of the situation until she’s in a warehouse full of drugs and guns.

David meets with her the next day and offers her an out. It’s late at night after the long, winding talk, but Gabbie is relieved and accepting that she can back out, promises not to tell anyone. He respects and genuinely cares about Gabbie and gives her what she wants, like promised. But not before Heath and Zane grab her arm and hold it down while David carves Kova into her upper arm.

Gabbie takes it, she understands.

It’s not two months later when he gets a call from Liza telling him that Gabbie’s trying to talk her into leaving him and helping her go to the cops. (Gabbie mistakenly thinks that because Liza was her friend first that her loyalties wouldn’t lay with David. She’s wrong.)

David brings Scott and Zane to grab her coming home from a late night gym session (that she’s stupidly been Snapchat-ing all evening).

He doesn’t need to torture her, but he thinks it’s a good lesson for Scott and Zane. The word will spread quickly through Kova.

You don’t fuck with David, ever.

The man could have deep love and respect for you, but he’d put a bullet in your head without thinking twice and if you make him angry enough to hurt you before that, well... you’ll be wishing he had just shot you instead.

The boys burn her body in the desert while David waits in the car and finishes editing his next vlog.

What a shame.

She was always reliable as clickbait for a thumbnail.

•Scotty Sire and Kristen McAtee•

Scotty’s chomping at the bit when David first offers the dude a bag full of cash late in the early morning at the Denny house. He can’t help the large, wicked smile on his face the entire time David spiels to the group.

He’s in from the first sentence, desperate to channel the darkness his depression had cursed him with from childhood. He could do this, and much more. Scott’s excited to become apart of something bigger than him. He’d happily worship the gospel of what would later be called Kova.

Kristen is easy to drag along, especially because of her addiction to pills and then later, more heavy drugs. She’ll do whatever she has to keep her man and her fix. She turns a calculated blind eye to their dealings and separates herself as much as possible.

David doesn’t like loose ends.

Word about Gabbie gets to her and she internally freaks out. She doesn’t know why, she doesn’t really care. Gabbie fucked up and got what was coming to her. But it feels like the calm before the storm.

David tells Scott he needs more from Kristen. He wants her to wear the Kova brand, he wants them all to after Gabbie tries to fuck them over. But he wants the curly headed girl to be first. Scott understands, he’s front row to the distance she’s created between her and the Kova family.

She’s partying with them all when Liza lures her to talk in an isolated bedroom, where Scott, Alex and David are waiting.

“Sorry, Kris. It’s just how it is,” David’s telling her when Scott and Alex maneuver her to the desk chair while their leader cleans a knife. “And you should be honored, I want you to be the first. I want you to start the family. Cause that’s what we are. We’re a family above all else. You wouldn’t betray your family, would you? You wouldn’t be Gabbie... Would you?”

Kristen resigns to shaking her head no, allowing Scott to extend her arm as David encroaches and presses the tip of the knife into the sensitive skin of her upper arm. Liza and Alex stand back, watching and blocking the exit. Kristen looks to Scott who only nods his approval before shutting her eyes tight when David begins slicing her arm.

The bass of the music throughout the house muffles her screams.

(Scott feeds her Percocets when it’s over and promises her the world. That’s the night she’s introduced to heroin.)

The rest of them receive the same mark personally from David by the end of the week.

•Zane Hijazi and Heath Hussar•

Zane’s psychotic. Genuinely a mad man, and David loves it as much as it’s a liability. Heath is a good reprieve though, knowing how to wrangle the crazed man.

They’re a fucking pair, that’s for sure. And with Heath’s experience in drug dealing and Zane’s past with beating the shit out of anyone who tried to stop or hassle Heath, they fit into Kova like they’ve been waiting their whole lives to be in the upper echelon of a gang. (They have.)

Heath is the guy David sends out to potential drug suppliers, such a people person and manipulator that David wishes he could bottle the man’s relatability to dose his entire crew with. The man has made him some serious fucking money with his banter.

Zane’s the guy David brings out at night or to see Tomas’ men, to terrify the peasants around him into submission. Zane is his guard dog on a short, but removable leash. The taller man is always just looking for a good time, whether that’s doing shots or breaking someone’s arm.

With the boundaries of what it means to be Kova and family set, etched into his skin, Zane becomes determined to protect his new clan, and his new always changing and addicting life.

David buys him a Porsche after he beats a thug of Tomas’ to death with his bare hands. The man had insulted David, his height and his hair. It rolled off the leaders back, but set something alight in Zane.

David doesn’t call him off until his hands are completely coated in blood.

(Tomas doesn’t say a word except to tell his men to clean up the mess and apologize to David. The fat man slaps Zane on the back on his way out, murmuring, “That’s a man you want around.”)

•Jason Nash•

Jason is his personal sounding board. The man is so much smarter than he lets anyone see. Jay can see from the outside in, how people will preceive them and how to effectively hide in plain sight.

Jason has a family, so it’s a little more difficult to convince him to give David his loyalty. Until the money is presented and David offers his family a clear cut and prosperous future. And to keep them out of all of it. The older man says yes after a couple days of thinking.

David seals the deal by bringing him to Miami, meeting with some drug runners from Belarus. They try to haggle David, get the price higher that what Tomas had offered. Jason laughs at them and follows David when he goes to walk out.

One of the men grabs Jay’s wrist and yanks his hand back to the dinner table they’d been sitting around and stabs his palm through with a steak knife, pinning him to the table in a bloody mess before hissing about disrespecting his boss.

Jason takes the knife out without flinching and stabs the guy in the aortic, blood splattering on his own face and chest.

“Don’t try to fuck with us,” Jason says so calmly to the criminals watching in awe, it’s unnerving, “and keep a leash on your puppy.”

The boss from eastern Europe laughs and apologizes before continuing the transaction with the original offer. He gives Jason the dead man’s Rolex, as a token of good will.

David accepts.

•Todd Smith•

Todd is a guy who wants to be smart, and just fucking isn’t. He’s easy. Money, girls, drugs and Todd is fucking his. It only takes a itty bitty cocaine addiction and Todd’s loyalty is an ever lasting stream of favors and obedience.

Scott takes Todd to kidnap a daughter of one of the Mexican mafias generals. David wants to run a piece of West Hollywood that he currently controls.

David is highly impressed with the lies Todd weaves to the pretty girl, keeping her calm and placated through out the ordeal. He’s even more impressed when Todd follows his orders to cut off her finger to send to her father; the olive skinned man doesn’t think twice. And the girl is still stuck deep in her Stockholm Syndrome, even after she only has nine fingers.

They return her to her family, no worse for wear, when the general gives up his terrority in WeHo.

David rents out a Vegas strip club and penthouse for Todd. He did well.

•Carly Incontro and Erin Gilfoy•

Carly and Erin are too fucking excited about Gabbie’s death. He watches them pick apart the story from Scott and Zane, and laugh manically when David tells them too much detail about the torture she had endured.

They are great to use strategically with their seduction or mask of ignorance used as a weapon. He has them paired up with a couple of guys higher up in Tomas’ operation, waiting like sleeper agents for the day when David will tear apart Tomas and his men. They’ll deliver the first bullets, crippling the obese excuse of a man’s team so that David can go in for the kill.

He had them train with Alex, who reports exactly what he had predicted about the girls: they’re addicted to the perks, the money, the clothes, the power. They love David, they’d do anything for their boss and friend. It makes David so happy.

They’re his favorite little princesses.

•Corinna Kopf•

David’s been working on Corinna since high school. She doesn’t contribute anything but her tits really, he only needs her every once and a while to seduce someone before killing or maiming them. He gives her to Todd to make her happy and keep the overly horny man satisfied.

But she’s loyal, has been since David met her. She tells David the things the vlog squad thinks he doesn’t know. She’s like an internal mole, not needed in most moments, but useful when people start getting too big for their britches.

Like Matt King. Zane vouched for the guy, (Heath tells David privately not to trust his best friend because his judgment is always clouded when it come to new people offering him a good time) and David lets it slide.

Until Corinna comes over one day, leaving Todd at home to fuck David while he edits and Liza is in New York. The blonde is sucking his cock, when she pulls back and says,

“Matt is trying to convince Zane to move to Europe. Says he has friends in Amsterdam doing bigger things than Kova.”

David comes in her mouth and kisses her forehead before sending her off and telling her to round up Scott and Todd and send them his way.

David picks up Heath and Zane, asking if it’s true. Zane says yeah, but he thought the dude was kidding, they were drunk as fuck at Todd’s.

(Zane doesn’t lie, he doesn’t have it in him. Too insane to try to manipulate or spin his words like his best friend.)

Heath is livid when they meet Scott and Todd at one of their hideouts filled with money and weapons. David is tired and thinks this is a good opportunity to release the reigns a little bit. He tells the men what they’re going to do and watches them plan how to end the bleached blond man’s life.

He leaves when they’re loading up one of their nondescript SUVs and Alex is arriving. His best friend is grabbing his arm, halting his steps as he makes his way to the Tesla, leaning in and asking, “Are we gonna make him hurt before we bury him, or nah?”

David gives him what do you think eyes, and replies, “If they come up with the idea themselves, I’ll buy them all fucking Tesla’s.”

The next day he’s purchasing four Tesla coupes and sending Alex an envelope showing the stock he now owns of Elon Musk’s company, valuing upwards of five hundred thousand dollars.

•Jeff Wittek•

Jeff approaches David, which is a first. But David’s well aware of the man’s past before he introduces himself. He’s just as dumb as his new friend Todd and more naive. He fits him to the same role as Todd after watching the man put a bullet between the eyes of a lackey that couldn’t pay up fronted money David gave the guy.

But, Jeff proves way more useful than David ever could have imagined.

Jeff slaps down a duffle bag in front of David one day, oddly symmetrical to the way David had started everything. He says it’s a gift from his uncle in New Jersey. There’s two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in it along with a hard drive of incriminating photos, videos and documents on Tomas and his men.

“My uncle doesn’t like how Tomas runs the most lucrative port on the West Coast. You... you he likes, David,” Jeff tells him, crooked grin on his lips.

And that’s how David finds out that not only is Jeff the nephew of the last Godfather of the Italian mob in the United States, but that the centuries old organization is actively courting him to take over.

He likes Jeff.

David still demands loyalty though, even from a man owned and born into the Italian mob. He doesn’t get Kova carved on his arm, he gets it cut over his heart after he and Alex mentally break Jeff down over the course of a weekend in David’s basement.

“And what do you have now, Jeff?” Alex asks, as David finishes up the A in Kova with his dagger. The modelesque man doesn’t flinch with the cut, he just stares ahead, tears dried on his face from a long weekend of reprogramming.

“A new family.”

David laughs as he wipes away the blood from the man’s chest and disinfects the wounds so they don’t fester.

He’s got international backing and a spy now.

David buys Jeff a nice house and spends an insane amount of money ruining his ex-girlfriends acting career. He likes the malicious look on Jeff’s face when he sees the tweets roll in, exposing Cierra’s MDMA addiction and several crude sex tapes from Jeff and her’s threesomes with a married director.

Jeff thinks he made the right choice.

Family over blood, always.

•••••

That’s how the kids become Kova.

And how David builds his empire to reflect his strength.

•••••

Mob Boss AU Masterlist