#rose ch 7

[bonesandthebees]

Love that the start is basically

Wilbur: Let me lay down and die.

Tommy: Hey, could you perhaps fucking not? Stop being a dramatic bitch already so we can figure out how to survive.

perfect illustration of their relationship at this point wilbur is being dramatic and tommy is just like "are you done yet"

[ifacotarwasgood]

CHAPTER 7 - page 18/?

original word count: 5525

revised word count: 2742

click for ch 7's full comparison document.

original:

I hadn’t let myself really look yesterday, but now, in the empty hall with no one to see me…a flash of color amid a shadowy, gloomy background made me stop, a riot of color and texture that compelled me to face the gilded frame. I’d never—never—seen anything like it. It’s just a still life, a part of me said. And it was: a green glass vase with an assortment of flowers drooping over its narrow top, blossoms and leaves of every shape and size and color—roses, tulips, morning glory, goldenrod, maiden’s lace, peonies… The skill it must have taken to make them look so lifelike, to make them more than lifelike… Just a vase of flowers against a dark background—but more than that; the flowers seemed to be vibrant with their own light, as if in defiance of the shadows gathered around them. The mastery needed to make the glass vase hold that light, to bend the light with the water within, as if the vase did indeed have weight to it atop its stone pedestal… Remarkable. I could have stared at it for hours—and the countless paintings along this hall alone could have occupied my entire day—but… garden. Plans. Still, as I moved on, I couldn’t deny that this place was far more … civilized than I’d thought. Peaceful, even, if I was willing to admit it. And if the High Fae were indeed gentler than human legend and rumor had led me to believe, then maybe

revised:

[nothing to see here - the comparison software spaced it this way because my revision has significantly fewer words!]

[goodomensafterdark]

Writers Guild Presents - Tethered - Ch 7 - Memories

Big thank you to @gleafer for accepting to let me use this piece as illustration to this chapter! Go support her on Patreon -we promise that your loins will catch on FIRE ;)

Written by NegotiationReal6508 on our subreddit!

Chapter 7 of work in progress

TW/CW: Angst, Discussion of attempted suicide, implied character death, panic attack, some light smut.

Summary:

Crowley wakes up in a mental hospital with no memory of how he got there. Without his demonic powers, neither the doctors, nor the people who claim to be his family will believe he is who he says he is. With the evidence against him mounting, his only lifeline to the real world is a cryptic note left by an unseen messenger. The longer he stays in this hospital, the harder it becomes to recall for sure, is Crowley really a demon of Hell? Or has his entire existence been nothing more than a delusion conjured by a grieving mind?

Excerpt:

Crowley stood in a noisy airport at the arrivals gate holding a bouquet of red roses, fidgeting nervously. All of his usual laidback swagger was buried under a blanket of anxiety, his spine was a solid metal rod. He was always a little bouncy when Aziraphale came to visit, but this time was different. Crowley hopped his feet up and down like the floor was burning hot sand. He juggled the little box in his jacket pocket as he stared at the sliding glass doors, willing the familiar head of blond hair to appear through them. Were the roses too cliché? Maybe he should have gotten the peonies instead. Too late now.

“There, I see him.” Crowley turned to the young man beside him. “Are you recording?”

“Yeah, it's on,” said Adam.

“Right, here he comes.” Crowley shook out his shoulders and trilled his lips. He knew he looked ridiculous, but it was an airport; no one ever looked their best at an airport. He moved towards the beacon that was Aziraphale’s gleaming smile. His heart thudded like hoofbeats in his chest. Breathe, he reminded himself. Breathing and walking, those were the two main requirements at the moment. He had no idea what his facial expression was, he just hoped he was smiling too. God, Aziraphale was so gorgeous, even after eight hours on a plane. How was that even possible?

“Hello, my darling!” Aziraphale greeted him.

“Hi,” said Crowley, because that was about as eloquent as he could manage. He unceremoniously handed the bouquet to Aziraphale.

“Oh my!” Aziraphale chuckled. “Flowers? What's the occasion?”

And there was Crowley’s opening. Aziraphale was reaching out his arms for an embrace but Crowley needed to do what he came to do first. He bent down on one knee, and pulled the little box from his pocket.

Continue reading on AO3

Or start from chapter 1 - Dies Lunae

Special thanks to my beautiful betas: u/KotiasCamorra, u/Paperclip_Ninja

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.6

WandaNat x Raeder

Word Count: 2.4k

Ch. Notes: Rising tensions

Summary: The after math of the fallout between Wanda and her family leads to an all too important business meeting the next day.

An: haha I didn't almost forget to post today... And don't hate me for the next chapter please

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

“What um… what number are you guys staying in? Do you know?”  You ask, finally breaking the silence as you arrived at the building.

“220,” Natasha answers for them.

You nod, “I’m in 216, we’ll be right across from each other.”

The ride in the elevator was as silent as the car ride. The anger that was permeating off of Wanda had slightly reduced, but not by much. When the elevator opens, you escort the women to their apartment.

You point across the hall then say, “Well this is you and that is me if you need anything you can always knock."

You attempt to walk away, but a soft grip around your wrist stops you.  Your gaze slowly rises to meet Wanda’s. She pulls you into her and the warmth of her embrace let’s you know that she’ll be alright.

“Goodnight little krolik,” she kisses the top of your head before making her way into her new home.

“She’s going to be ok right?” You ask Natasha and she smiles softly at you.

“I’ll make sure of it lisichka. Go rest, you've had an eventful day. “

Its like her words trigger a yawn from your lips. Exhaustion is finally catching up to you properly.

“Goodnight, Nat.”

Once you go into your condo you sigh. The quiet finally getting the best of you. Though you were exhausted your mind was racing. Car chase, Wanda, Natasha, dinner, it all hit you at once.  Despite your thoughts you attempt to get ready for bed.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand as soon as your head hits the pillow. It’s a text from Dragos calling for a meeting tomorrow at 9am. You put the phone back down and shut your eyes. This would all feel easier to deal with in the morning.

When your alarm rings at 7 am, you are quick to shut it off. Your sleep had been restless, and you feel the previous nights events weighing heavily on your shoulders. Nonetheless you stumble out of your bed.

After you brush your teeth, you throw on a pair of sweats to get your morning run in before the meeting. Usually, you’d do a run followed by a more rigorous workout, but you were short on time.

Your mind is clear as you begin to run away from the condo. Your only thoughts are focusing on your breathing.

Gloom hadn’t yet left the city. Though it wasn’t raining yet you wouldn’t be surprised if it started up later. Traffic seemed light, not a lot of cars were passing you on the road. The cool air was welcomed against your face as your body temperature slowly rose with each stride.

For a small moment in time, you were at peace. Part of you wished to skip the meeting and just take a lazy day. However, that wasn’t an option because you didn’t work in a regular job field. The non-negotiables of your profession were few but harsh. While you knew the Maximoff’s were lenient with you, you never craved to take advantage of that.

When you arrive back to your building, you quickly shower and dress. You had just finished doing your hair when your doorbell rang. Opening the door, you are met by a familiar red head, who seems to be in a better mood than last night.

“Morning little krolik, I come with coffee and a bagel.”

You smile, “The occasion?”

“I was hoping we’d carpool to work.”

You nod a few times, “Of course, just let me grab my coat and we can head out.”

Quickly you grab your belongings and follow Wanda to her car. You quietly munch on the bagel during the car ride.

“No Natasha today?”

She shakes her head, “Papa is still unsure of her role in the company, so he doesn't want her at the meeting.”

“Speaking of Dragos, are you feeling any better from… yesterday?”

Wanda takes a deep breath. You see her hands clench around the wheel and her demeanor shifts slightly.

“I assume the meeting will further address what happened last night,” she speaks flatly.

“Wanda, you have to keep calm.”

You see her jaw clench, “I will reflect whatever mood is brought unto me.”

You shake your head, “You and I both know that nothing gets solved with that kind of behavior.”

“So, what, you want me to bow down and apologize?” The irritation in her voice doesn’t phase you.

“That’s not what I said. I’m saying you can’t get into a yelling match, and you can’t put your hands on anyone.”

“If they were honest with me from the beginning I wouldn’t have-"

You cut her off, “I didn’t ask for an explanation Wanda. I’m telling you something that I know you are already aware of. If you want to head this organization, you have to keep your emotions in check.”

She mumbles underneath her breath. You raise an eyebrow at her childish antics, “What was that?”

“I said, it’s easier to keep my emotions in check when the lies aren’t about you.”

You fumble with your words briefly before speaking, “Well I told you truth, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but- “

“Well, there you have it. If you want to know something about me, it’s best to ask me. However, if I tell you, and you don’t like what you hear you have to deal with that on your own time,” you glance at her.

She chuckles softly to herself, “I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to how much you’ve grown.”

You smile, but then it falters as you recall the argument from last night. Wanda had made Pietro and Dragos retreat instantly when mentioning something that revolved around you. You want to know what it is.

“Wanda, what are they hiding from me?”

You can visibly see the woman pale, “Do you trust me Y/n?”

You nod slowly.

She sighs, “When it’s the right time, I’ll tell you.”

You want to argue more, but you don’t. You trust Wanda, you know she has your best interests in mind. So, you fight the urge to be upset for the rest of the car ride.

When you get to the office, the two of you ride straight to the top floor. Dragos, Pietro, and Flora were already there. The room is tense as you both sit across from them. Usually you’d sit by Pietro’s side, but you weren’t going to let Wanda feel alone in this.

“You can disagree with me if you want, but your actions yesterday proved why keeping you in the dark about the situation with Y/n was the right thing to do. You’re hot-headed now, but back then you were even worse,” Dragos looks his daughter in the eye when he speaks.

You can feel the anger radiating off of Wanda’s body and for a moment you think she is going to have an outburst. Instead, she puts her elbows on the table and leans forward, never breaking eye contact with her father.

“We are a family and I thought that we agreed on having no secrets from each other. In this business a secret is the most dangerous weapon that could be used against us. My potential reaction aside, keeping this secret from me is breaking the rules you set in place. Or do the rules only apply to me?”

Wanda’s response was damn good in your opinion. Although she was angry you saw her hands clasping each other for dear life as a sign of restraint.

“Can we just move on from this? It was 5 years ago, and Y/n is fine now,” Pietro tries to defuse the tension.

Wanda shakes her head, “As much as this is about Y/n, it’s also about not respecting me enough to keep me properly informed about our family and our business. It’s unfair for you all to sit here and claim that I’m solely in the wrong. We can’t move on until all parties take responsibility for their part in this,” Wanda holds firm.

It's weird being in a meeting about yourself, but almost having nothing to do with anything being discussed.

“Have you ever considered the possibility that Y/n didn’t want us to tell you?” Dragos states and your body tenses.

“No,” Wanda says nonchalantly, as if his question was unimportant.

“What if she…”

Wanda’s glare hits her father like an ice pick to the back, “This isn’t a hypothetical, papa. If in some universe out their Y/n wanted you to keep it a secret from me, then that would be fine. However, this isn’t that universe, now is it Y/n?”

She doesn’t look at you, but you answer her question firmly, “No, it isn’t.”

“The best way to move forward from this is an apology from both sides. Wanda has just returned and we’ve dwelled on this matter for too long,” Flora stops the argument in it’s track.

You thought it was a civil solution. It would be for the best, but just by taking a quick glance at Wanda you can tell that she doesn’t want to apologize. It was her rigid posture and her hardened eyes. She felt like she did nothing wrong, but you were hoping she would stand down for the greater good.

“Wanda, I’m sorry we intentionally kept this from you. It is not the way we do things around here. Forgive me, docha,” Dragos speaks sincerely as he looks at Wanda.

She doesn’t seem to be budging. You make the judgment call by discreetly placing your hand on her thigh. This causes her to look in your direction and you speak to her with your eyes. Your features are telling her to apologize. You see her posture relaxes and her eyes soften a bit.

“I’m sorry for the way that I acted last night. It was uncalled for, regardless of my feelings,” she speaks with an equal amount of sincerity.

“Good, now that we’ve settled that I’m going to cut to the chase. Natasha, what assets does she bring to the table?” Dragos moves on to business fairly quickly.

Wanda follows his suit, speaking highly of her wife, “Natasha is a hands on kind of employee. She thrives being where the action is and that doesn’t just mean in a fight. She’s a highly trained assassin, her accolades are insurmountable, and there’s quite literally nothing that she can’t do.”

“She can start as head of security, and we can see what she can do from there,” Dragos offers, but even you think the role is undercutting Natasha’s abilities.

Wanda seems frustrated, but she is going to agree to these terms.

You speak up, “I think she should be in charge of field operations.”

“You and Pietro handle the field operations just fine, why add a third?” Dragos questions with curiosity not animosity.

“To avoid things like what happened yesterday with Mr. H. Right now, the way we operate is that Piet comes and gets me when needed and we just go from there. It’s not strategic at all, I’m usually in the car before I know what exactly it is that we’re doing,” you argue your position.

“It always works out,” Pietro fires back.

Your eyes lock on his, “But it could work better. With me running numbers for the company and for our business, I don’t always have the time to sit and plan out these operations. We all know that Piet doesn’t believe in planning. It’s field operations, it shouldn’t always just be Piet and me. We should have men out there with us incase things go south, but there’s never a plan for that.”

“And you think the addition of Ms. Romanoff will add…” Dragos leads off his sentence.

“She’s going to add structure and power by organizing this department into an actual department rather than just Piet and I doing deliveries in car. She’s experienced and we should be using that to our advantage, especially with us potentially being undercut at the moment.”

Dragos ponders, which is a good thing. It means he believes there is something to everything you’re saying.

“Give her a week on field operations and if you don’t see any type of benefit, she can be head of security,” Wanda offers a compromise.

“Only a week?” His disbelief is hidden in his voice, but you know it’s there.

“It’s all she needs,” Wanda says with confidence.

“Alright, that’s everything for today- “

“We’re not going to address the Kingpin situation?” You stay planted firmly in your chair.

Dragos sighs, “I will deal with Kingpin personally.  I had Kate set up a meeting at neutral territory.”

You shook your head knowing what Dragos was insinuating, “You’re trying to have a one-on-one meeting with this bastard? Everyone in this room knows that idea sounds like shit.”

“It’s not an idea, it’s happening in a few hours,” Dragos counters.

“Papa you’re going to have someone tailing you right? You don’t trust him to keep true to his word,” Pietro looks at his father in disbelief.

Dragos’s hand trails through his thick gray hair, “I’ve dealt with Kingpin before. I’ve known him for a long time, and I will be prepared for whatever he has coming.”

“Papa you can’t be serious?” Wanda has features akin to Pietro.

The arguing is about to continue, but then Flora speaks up, “Your father knows what he’s doing kids. Have some faith in him, he’s got a lot of experience for all of you. If he thinks this is the right call, then it has to be. Now, you’re dismissed.”

Suddenly there was no room for arguing with her. You try to keep calm but your feelings on the matter aren’t well hidden as you storm out of the room. Wanda and Pietro leave after you, both with the goal of trying to comfort you. However, their moods weren’t much better than yours.

When it was just the husband and wife in the office Flora let her nerves show. She was unsure about this plan. The lack of support from the group only heightened her anxiety for her husband’s well-being.

“You better prove them wrong Dragos. If anything were to happen to you I-"

The older man is gentle as he reaches for his wife’s hand, in the way he is always gentle with her. He places a kiss to the back of her palm, “Nothing is going to happen to me, moya lybov. I’m going to take car of this business and this family like I always have.”

Dragos wasn’t going to show his nerves. He never did, but to think they didn’t exist would’ve been ignorant. There wasn’t a reality that Dragos saw where the meeting went sideways. It had to go well, or a war would tear across the city. That thought protected him like a bullet proof vest. He was going to protect the industry he worked to build because that was the only option.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy

[lot-of-nothing]

Entwined (Ch. 7)

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Weekend getaway :)

Warnings: Suggestive themes aaaaandd a little of that internalize homophobia again

Author's Note: NO BETA BC THIS TOOK ME FOREVER GOOD LORD IM SORRY FOLKS! I moved and started a new job and I leave for Europe in a week so life has been NUTS

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Melissa led the way through the front doors of the hotel. You could tell she was excited by the highly animated way in which she spoke to you. She used her hands and fingers to gesture to you and she lingered close to you with her last word, “This weekend is about three things: the endless buffet, laying by the pool, and sex.”

The corners of your lips rose as her lips neared your own. There were still a few inches between you, but you knew that was plenty close for a place as public as a hotel lobby, “In that order too?”

Your response made the redhead laugh as both of her hands squeezed your bicep. You lost yourself for a moment while you watched her grin at you. It was the voice of a man that unfortunately ripped her eyes from you, “Melissa?” 

As she turned to face the voice, her red hair flicked over her shoulder with the spin of her head. When her eyes landed on the familiar face of her ex boyfriend, her smile faded, but her tone remained polite, “Hey, Gare.”

A brief silence fell between the former lovers (as did a thick awkwardness), and you waited patiently for one of them to speak up. Gary was the first to break the silence when he noticed Melissa’s eyes wander over to the brunette at his side, “Oh, this is my girlfriend - Lea Ann”

Melissa only nodded, remaining silent and giving a faux smile to the lofty man. It was when he realized Melissa had very little interest engaging with Gary and Lea Ann that Gary decided to turn his attention to you. With a kind smile, he reached out his hand, offering it to you along with his name, “Gary.”

“Y/N.” You return the smile and handshake, surprised at the way his face lit up at hearing your name.

“Mel told me about you when we were dating.” He quipped while wrapping his arm around Lea Ann’s shoulders, hugging her to his side. He seemed genuinely delighted to make your acquaintance - it made you wonder why Melissa refused to commit to something more serious with him.

You folded your arms over your chest, glancing down at Melissa and then back to Gary again, “Did she now?”

Gary was highly enthusiastic with how he spoke to you, recalling memories Melissa had shared with him months ago, “Of course. You were her date to the senior prom after some punk ditched her.”

You couldn’t hide your pleasure in knowing Melissa had talked about you in her previous relationship. You had always assumed she would have kept even your friendship a secret. With a great big smile, you bump your shoulder against hers lightly, “I mean, how could I say no to a face like that?”

Melissa gave a reluctant smile, changing the subject away from your relationship, “What are you guys doin’ out here?”

Gary eagerly squeezed Lea Ann to his side once more and beamed at her. The brunette shifted into his side, wrapping an arm behind his back to better lean against him. It was clear they were enamored with one another, “Early anniversary trip. Lea Ann and I met at Dave & Busters not too long after we broke up. She is real good at skeeball.” 

Lea Ann added to the conversation with a shy voice, “How about you guys?”

“A trip for old times’ sake.” Melissa’s response contained a tone that was anything other than warm. While some might not have noticed, you saw her turn snarky and her nose wrinkled ever so slightly. It was obvious to you Melissa was offended by what she thought was Lea Ann’s ‘nosiness’. The redhead folded her arms over her chest, indicating she was finished with the conversation.

Gary knew Mel well enough to give a curt nod and guide Lea Ann away from you both, “Well, I hope you two have a great time.’

“Yeah, you too.” Your voice fell as they walked away - knowing full well Melissa would be upset at this interaction when you arrived at the hotel room.

—

You shifted awkwardly near the door of the hotel room. Melissa had abandoned her luggage in the middle of the room and tossed her purse on the bed before dropping into the chair into the corner to scroll on her phone. She seemed increasingly detached from you since you had spoken to Gary. 

While the detachment made you furious, you gave her a chance to tell you how she was feeling before you spiraled, “Everything okay?”

She didn’t even look up from her phone when she replied. If anything, she seemed annoyed that you would even ask such a question, “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Biting your tongue, you turn your back to her with a huff and tug open the door, “I’m gonna go downstairs.”

—

You twist the glass of dark liquor in your hand, mindlessly watching the ice swirl about in the liquid. A fire had been lit in your stomach at the realization that nothing had changed between Melissa and you. She still refused to admit her feelings for you or the opposite sex. Of course you were infuriated, but it was more of a rage fueled sadness had you refusing to look at Melissa who sat (im)patiently next to you. 

“You gotta work with me here. It’s one thing to take a weekend away together, but it’s a whole other thing to be tellin’ people that we are a couple.” Melissa sounded colder than she would have wanted, but there was no taking the words back now. You felt yourself growing angrier by the second.

It was clear Melissa didn’t truly understand why you were upset with the entire situation. With a deep sigh, you chose to explain your feelings to her, “I don’t mind that we aren’t official or whatever. I don’t even care that this is so casual. I just can’t be your dirty little secret anymore.”

“It isn’t like that.” 

Her reply was quick, but you weren’t convinced. “Melissa… Anytime someone gets remotely close to the truth, you get all spooked and then I have to deal with the consequences.”

The redhead chewed at the inside of her cheek, unsure of what to say to you. She remained facing forward, her fingers absentmindedly ripping at the napkin placed in front of her by the bartender. Mel furrowed her brow as she spoke, “I’m not spooked. I just don’t want people all up in my business.”

You weren’t convinced.

“Either way... You know how I feel about you... how I have always felt about you, and I-” In an instant, you regret opening your mouth. You could see a faint blush spreading across her cheeks from the corner of your eye. As always, you had gotten ahead of yourself, and now it was time for you to finish explaining your emotions before Melissa found a way to steer the conversation away from the vulnerability it was currently steeped in, “For me, it feels like you’re ashamed... of me, and it’s not a great feeling.”

Melissa glared at you for a few moments, and then you saw her left hand reach out to hold you by the back of the neck to pull your lips to hers. Your heart began pounding in your chest as you felt Mel’s teeth teasing your bottom lip and her right hand creep up to the middle of your thigh.

When she pulled her lips away from yours, her voice was low, “I’m sorry I made ya’ feel that way. I could never be ashamed of you.”

Regardless of the people sitting all around, you dove back in for another kiss. You felt her melting into you. With every second you kissed her, Melissa inched closer to the point in which she had slipped off her chair to stand between your knees. Her hands braced against your thighs and breasts pressed to your chest. 

The redhead was breathing heavily when she finally drew her lips away from yours. She had turned her head to glance around the room in search of prying eyes when you buried your nose in her hair. 

After Melissa’s worries of being watched were soothed by the absence of onlookers, she turned back to you, capturing your face in her hands. She spoke in a low tone which caused you to swallow hard, “Let’s go upstairs, hon.” She took your hand, tugging you along after her towards the hotel lobby. 

The deafening chorus of casino games, live music, and both winning and losing gamblers was all but a mere whisper to you the moment Melissa peered over her shoulder at you with a smile - a smile that only confirmed your long standing love for her.  

When she had you in the elevator, you were up against the wall before the door was closed with her mouth against yours. Mel was busy trailing her lipstick from your lips to your neck as you choked out a dizzied concern, “We are... going to miss our... uh, dinner reservations.”

“Where at?” Melissa was far too busy tasting your collarbone to give much attention to the thought of going out for dinner. She was far more interested in getting you up to your hotel room to get more acquainted with the hotel bed.

“Some fancy steakhouse.” You murmur before returning her fervor. By now the elevator doors were shut and neither of you had given much more thought to pressing a button to get the elevator moving. Instead you were more consumed with the urge to turn the tables on Melissa and press her against the elevator wall. 

Melissa’s hands were woven tightly into your hair as you pinned her to the wall. Your force only propelled her further into the raging desire she felt for you. Mel didn’t need to use any words to convey how much she needed you. Everything about your kisses was sloppy and steeped in desire. 

She allowed one of her hands to wander to the back of your neck as your lips drifted down her neck to her cleavage. The redhead held you tight with one arm while the other clumsily reached to illuminate the button to floor 15, “We can just order pizza.”

Her efforts to get the elevator headed towards your floor weren’t swift enough. The elevator dinged and the doors to the lobby parted, allowing a familiar tall, bald headed man and his brunette girlfriend onto the elevator with you both. 

With the introduction of Gary and Lea-Ann onto the elevator, Mel and you partially parted. She kept an arm around you with a hand resting on your hip and her body was pressed to yours as she suppressed a coy smile. Melissa raised a manicured hand to her lips, attempting to tidy her smeared lipstick with her thumb. All the while she stared at you down like a starved lion. 

Your heart was pounding and you couldn’t take your eyes off her. It took everything in you not to confess your love then and there. She was beautiful like this - seemingly liberated of her shame and enthralled with the premise of being caught in such a public act of affection. 

Gary was obviously confused by your closeness and he cocked his head, needing to double check to see if it was really Melissa who was really pinned into the corner of the elevator by you, “Melissa?”

“Oh, hey.” She cleared her throat and acknowledged him with a wave of her hand. You attempted to move your hands from her waist, but her hand caught your wrist to prevent you from pulling away. 

The elevator devolved into silence as it began moving to the upper floors. You couldn’t see the looks on Gary or Lea-Ann’s faces as you were too busy watching every shift in Melissa’s expressions. You wondered if this would be the end of your relationship. Your heart was pounding and you were growing anxious at the thought of the potential rejection headed your way. The only thing that kept you from completely losing it was Melissa’s manicured hand on the back of your neck, softly twirling your loose locks between her digits. 

Her eyes flickered between the rising elevator numbers, your company, and the elevator doors. Melissa was terrified of who Gary could tell. Through all of her family and friends, she knew this moment could reach someone she knew in a matter of hours. Her personal fears were being slowly subdued by her own willpower. As her eyes drifted back up to your face, they were now filled with a subtle determination to prove herself to you. 

Melissa pushed against your abdomen so you would step aside, but she kept both hands on you as she talked to Gary, “How’s your night goin’?”

“Good. I- I didn’t know you two were-” Gary couldn’t hide an ounce of his confusion at seeing you together. 

“Together? Yeah, well... Now you know.” The redhead finished his sentence before adding her own bit of attitude at the end of her thought. A lump formed in the back of her throat at admitting your relationship out loud, but there was no taking it back now. 

While Melissa was dealing with her own inner turmoil, you were relishing in the fact that Melissa described you two as being ‘together’. You were riding that high even after the elevator stopped on your floor and Mel took your hand to pull you after her. 

It was Melissa who lifted your arm to place around her shoulders when you stepped off the elevator. She also turned back to face her ex boyfriend with a cheeky grin, “Have a good night you two.”

Link to Chapter 8

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta, @unicorniusfallapatorius, @sapphicxrat, @earpivore, @jeridandridge @petty-femme27, @darkcolorphantom, @a-queen-and-her-throne, @cosmichymns

[v-akarai]

References in Servamp

Arabian mythology

Jinn. Ch. 16

Greek mythology

Elpis. Ch. 75

Moirai. Ch. 108

Pandora. Ch. 130

Pygmalion. Ch. 123

Pandora's Box. Ch. 97

Japanese mythology

Gashadokuro. Ch. 129

Kitsune. Ch. 3

Raijin. Ch. 85

Norse mythology

Baldr. Ch. 39

Bifröst. Ch. 88

Brunhild. Ch. 88

Fimbulwinter. Ch. 40

Freya. Ch. 65

Frey. Ch. 131

Gleipnir. Ch. 101

Hati. Ch. 91, 131

Hod. Ch. 39

Hliðskjálf. Ch. 96

Idunn. Ch. 65

Loki. Ch. 15

Mimir. Ch. 29

Mjölnir. Ch. 53

Ragnarök. Ch. 101, 122, 131

Sigurd. Ch. 101

Thor. Ch. 41

Yggdrasil. Ch. 42

Biblical references

Abel. Ch. 8

Adam. Ch. 128

Boaz and Jachin. Ch. 42

Eden. Ch. 21

Eve. Ch. 1

John the Baptist. Ch.122

Lucifer. Ch. 135

Nod. Ch. 29, events

Hinduism

Asura. Ch. 57.5, 89.

Tarot

The Fool - Mahiru. Ch. 50

I. The Magician – Night trio. Ch. 41

II. The High Priestess – Mikuni. Ch. 42

V. The Hierophant - Shuhei. Ch. 77

X. Wheel of Fortune - Junichiro. Ch. 53

XII. The Hanged Man - Tsurugi. Ch. 50

XV. The Devil – Shamrock. Ch. 72

XVI. The Tower - Touma. Ch. 47

XVII. The Star - Iduna. Ch. 73

XVIII. The Moon - Yumikage. Ch. 69

XX. Judgement - Mikuni. Ch. 144

Literary references

 "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" Lewis Carroll. Ch. 3, 4, 7, 19, 98, 122. Misono, Lily, Dodo, Mitsuki, Yamane, Hattori, Mikuni, Bad B and Good B.

"As You Like It" William Shakespeare. Ch. 10, 38.5. Mikuni's spell.

"My Fair Lady" English nursery rhyme. Ch. 10 Mikuni's spell.

"Dracula" Bram Stoker. Ch. 12, 30. Hugh.

"Romeo and Juliet" William Shakespeare. Ch. 23, 34. Hyde, Ophelia.

"Faust" by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. Ch. 29 Johannes.

"Through the Looking-Glass" Lewis Carroll. Ch. 29, events. Mikuni, Johannes.

"Julius Caesar" William Shakespeare. Ch. 23, 84. Hyde.

"Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" Robert Stevenson. Ch. 23, 37. Hyde, Licht.

"Macbeth" William Shakespeare. Ch. 24, 31. Kuro, Saint Germain, Mahiru.

"Night on the Galactic Railroad" Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 26, 142. Higan, Tsubaki.

"The Little Prince" Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. Ch 30, 67. Kuro, Mahiru, Sloth demon, Gear, probably Jeje.

"Hamlet" William Shakespeare. Ch. 33, 34. Hyde, Ophelia.

"The Phantom of the Opera" Gaston Leroux. Ch. 36 Licht and Hyde technique.

"Peter and Wendy" James Barry. Ch. 44, 56, 74. Tsurugi, Touma, Mahiru.

"Ring a Ring o' Roses" nursery rhyme. Ch. 53 Junichiro's spell.

“Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens” James Barry. Ch. 53, 75. Tsurugi, Touma.

"Death in Venice" Thomas Mann. Ch. 55 Gilbert technique.

"Total Eclipse" a play by Christopher Hampton. Ch. 55 Rayscent's technique.

"The Morning of the Last Farewell" Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 57.5 Tsubaki.

"Spring and Asura" Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 57.5 Tsubaki.

"The Catcher in the Rye" Jerome Salinger. Ch. 62 Shuhei.

"Four and Twenty Blackbirds" Agatha Christie. Ch. 62 Shuhei's spell.

"Metamorphosis" Franz Kafka. Ch. 62 Shamrock technique.

“The Nighhawk's Star” Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 62, 76. Shamrock technique.

"Rock-a-bye Baby" an English lullaby. Ch. 70 Touma's spell.

“Schlafe, mein Prinzchen, schlaf ein” lullaby. Ch. 70 Touma's spell.

"Who Killed Cock Robin" an English nursery rhyme. Ch. 70 Yumikage's spell.

"The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" Lyman Frank Baum. Ch. 70, 88. Tsukimitsu brothers’ spells.

"Daddy-Long-Legs" Jean Webster. Ch. 74. Dark Night Trio, Touma.

"King Lear" William Shakespeare. Ch. 86. Hyde.

"The House of the Sleeping Beauties" Yasunari Kawabata. Ch. 86. Iori.

"The Divine Comedy" Dante Alighieri. Ch. 118, 120, 121. Niccolo, Ildio, Gluttony demon.

“A Brute's Love” (人でなしの恋) Edogawa Rampo. Ch. 122 Mikuni, Lily.

"Coppelia" ballet Leo Delibes. Chapter 122 Mikuni, Lily.

"Salome" Oscar Wilde. Ch. 122 Mikuni, Lily.

"Turandot" opera by Giacomo Puccini based on the play by Carlo Gozzi. Ch. 129, 136. Lily.

"The Tempest" William Shakespeare. Ch. 131. Licht and Hyde.

"The Old Man and the Sea" Ernest Hemingway. Ch. 134 Hugh.

"Flowers for Algernon" Daniel Keyes. Ch. 135 Hugh.

"Jane Eyre" Charlotte Brontë. Ch. 136. Hokaze.

"Madama Butterfly" opera by Giacomo Puccini. Ch. 136. Lily.

"Hansel and Gretel" the Brothers Grimm. Ch. 140. Faust and Otogiri.

Music

"Für Elise" by Ludwig van Beethoven. Ch. 34

"Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring" by Johann Sebastian Bach. Ch. 125

Sonata No. 17 "Tempest" by Ludwig van Beethoven. Ch. 131

Movies

"It's a Wonderful Life" (1946). Ch. 131

"Life is Beautiful" (1997). Ch. 131

I believe this list can be expanded. Somewhere I’ve written only chaps when some reference was mentioned for the first time and omitted all further mentions.

Special thanks to hello-vampire-kitty, joydoesathing and passmeabook, because some works wouldn’t be included in the list without their observations.

[mariasont]

Our Minds Entwined———————————

ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8

MDNI——————————————————

pairings: aaron hotchner x oc x spencer reid

summary: in which jason gideon’s daughter joins the fbi as the newest, brightest member

warnings: soft dom spencer, sub oc, making out in a bathroom, spencer & aaron being simps, oral f receiving, oral m receiving, fingering, dirty talk, yeah!

Chapter Seven:

Evelyn's eyes flickered open, greeted by the relentless dawn light that pierced the room. The alarm's persistent drone became a mere backdrop to the blissful haze that wrapped around her, a lingering afterglow of the night before that made her thighs clench at the thought. Extending a lazy stretch, her fingers roaming over the sheets, half-expecting to brush against Spencer's familiar warmth. A cool absence greeted her instead that snapped her back to reality, her heart dropped with a dense thud. 

She bolted upright, the sheets clutched to her chest like a shield, her mind a whirlwind of questions that demanded answers. Did he regret it? Was it not as good for him as it was for her? In the quiet of the room, her confusion found an echo, intensifying the sense of abandonment that snaked its way up her spine, panic beginning to take hold. The memories of his touch faded into the hazy idea of a dream, leaving her exposed, her defenses crumbling to nothing.

Evelyn rose, her body moving on autopilot, as she prepared for the day. Securing her badge to her waist, she felt a wave of dread wash over her, the inevitable encounter with Spencer looming over her head.    

Evelyn made her way down the stairs, each step tentative, as she entered the lobby. Morning light spilled through the windows, painting long, somber shadows. JJ was there, her blonde hair reflecting the sun's rays like a halo, her posture exuding her calm authority as she conversed quietly with Hotch. He stood with his back to the light, his sharp silhouette and eyes scanning the room as he spoke.

Evelyn felt a twinge of relief upon noticing Spencer's absence; she wasn't ready to face him. For now, she welcomed the reprieve, allowing herself a moment to gather her thoughts. JJ's observant eyes were quick to detect the change in Evelyn's demeanor. 

"Good morning!" Evelyn announced with a chirp, her tone light and breezy, as she flashed her practiced smile and wave.

"Morning, Evie," JJ greets with a warm smile, her voice carrying a hint of concern, "How'd you sleep?"

 Evelyn's cheeks warmed at the memory, a flicker of awkwardness passing through her. "Oh, you know, the usual--battled my alarm clock, dreamed of paperwork, and won," she smiled, deflecting the attention. "Speaking of dreams, I bet Hotch was up all strategizing about our case, right?"

Hotch eyes narrowed slightly at Evelyn; his perceptive gaze told Evelyn he knew what she was trying to do. "Strategizing is a 24/7 job... and so is paperwork," he began. "Though, I try not to outsource it to the interns."

Evelyn's eyes widened in mock horror, her voice laced with feigned defensiveness. "It was one time! And for the record, I was strategically conserving energy... for more important tasks," she declared, her grin spreading across her face, as infectious as it was wide.

Hotch's response came with a barely perceptible smirk. "Whatever you say," he said, disbelief clear in this tone, yet his expression remained unreadable. "Let's head out."

Evelyn hurried after him, curiosity piqued. "Wait, how did you even know about that?"

Hotch continued forward, seemingly oblivious to Evelyn's struggle to keep up. Evelyn, in her attempt to match his stride, found herself almost jogging. 

"Let's just say, not all profilers need to profile to get their information," he hinted with a sidelong glance. "Some people," his eyes briefly flickered to Morgan, seated nonchalantly in the SUV, "just have a hard time keeping things to themselves."

With an overexaggerated eye roll, Evelyn grumbled, "Morgan and his big mouth," earning a burst of laughter from JJ. "How could he?"

The soft chuckle from Hotch was fleeting, but it was enough to spark a glow in Evelyn's eyes. She really loved that sound. "In his defense, he didn't know I was listening. Now, shall we?" He motioned towards the exit, holding the door open waiting for her to lead the way.

--

They stepped into the station to find it cloaked in a tension, the air heavy with the unspoken urgency of detectives eager for a lead and the simmering frustration of dead ends. 

As they arrived at the station, the atmosphere was tense, the air thick with anticipation and the lingering frustration of a case at a standstill. Hotch guided the team through the precinct's doors, his face an unreadable mask as he moved through. 

They received a nod from Detective Martinez, his features etched with lines as deep as the arid crevices of the desert surrounding them.

"Travers?" Hotch asked, his tone direct and expectant.

Martinez's response came with a weary shake of his head, the furrows in his brow deepening into a map of frustration. "He's lawyered up. Won't say a word without his attorney present."

Hotch's voice cut through the silence. "Alright, let's regroup. There has to be something we're missing. Evelyn, find Spencer in the conference room. Go through the evidence again with fresh eyes."

Evelyn's heart vaulted in her chest, as if trying to escape. The idea of working in close quarters with Spencer was like standing at the edge of a cliff; it filled her with a dizzying rush of nervous energy that was hard to ignore. Maybe it would be better if someone just pushed her off. She nodded, schooling her face into composure. I can do hard things, she thought to herself, clutching her files, the soft thud of her footsteps accompanying her to the conference room.

The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the projector. Spencer was already there, his slender finger, the same one that had been in her hours prior, was sifting through the array of evidence before him. His brow furrowed in concentration, jaw set in a firm line, eyes narrowed in focus. God, it was hard for Evelyn to stay upset when he looked that good.

Prentiss stood by the window. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, darted from corner to corner, missing nothing. 

Evelyn's heart pounded as the memories of last night flooded her senses his fingers pounding inside her, the feeling of his lips on hers. Spencer didn't even flicker a gaze towards her, his concentration cemented on the sea of papers that sprawled across the table. It was as if nothing had happened.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Evelyn forced a smile. "So, what are we thinking? Any new angles we might have missed?" she asked, her voice a little too cheerful.

Spencer finally raised his head, his face a blank canvas hiding his thoughts. "We need to reexamine the timeline. There might be a pattern we overlooked."

With a thoughtful tap of her finger against her lips, Prentiss interjected, "And cross-reference the victims' backgrounds again. They all received the remote-control keys shortly before they were killed, but maybe there's more than just the keys linking them."

With a subtle shift in her stance acknowledging Spencer's imposing presence, Evelyn offered him a file. Her fingers brushed his ever so slightly, refusing to meet his gaze. "Look at this," she said. "One of the victims, Mr. Davidson, made several calls to Key Innovations customer service the day before he died. It could be nothing, but it's odd."

Spencer accepted the file, his touch lingering a moment too long. "It could indicate he was having issues with the key. Maybe it malfunctioned, or maybe it was tampered with."

Prentiss leaned in, her eyes darting across the document. "If he called customer service, there should be a record of the conversation. We need to get those tapes," she noted, already reaching for her phone. "I'm going to call the company, see what I can find."

Prentiss stepped out of the room, the click-clack of her heels on the floor punctuating her exit as she moved to make the call. With Prentiss gone, the room shrank, the quiet intensifying around Evelyn and Spencer as they sifted through the evidence, each rustle of paper amplifying the silence.

As Spencer extended his arm around Evelyn to retrieve a file, the closeness of his body sent a shiver of awareness down her spine. His hand grazed her hip in a steadying gesture, and the brief touch causes Evelyn's body to stiffen, stepping back as if she had been shocked.

Spencer's frown was quick to form as he noticed Evelyn's sudden retreat, a crease of concern etching his forehead. "Are you okay?"

Evelyn flashed a quick, wry smile, brushing off the moment. "I'm fine, just practicing my two-step for the next FBI ball," she joked, a lame attempt at deflecting.

"Evelyn," Spencer said, his tone soft yet firm.

Evelyn's response tumbled out in a rush. "So, I wake up and it's just me and the cold side of the bed, which, you know, is a bit confusing. And hey, if that is your way of saying 'it was a mistake,' that's cool. I'm a big girl, I've got my big girl socks on. Just rip the band-aid off quick, okay? I can take it."

Spencer's smirk was a slow slide of amusement. "Oh, I know you can take it," he teased, his voice a low hum that seemed to vibrate through the space between them.

He stepped closer, his presence encroaching on her personal bubble, making her heart race faster than she thought possible. As he backed her up, her hips met the edge of the table with a soft thud, his hands planting firmly on the surface to cage her in.

"I don't regret it at all," he confessed, his eyes locked on hers, "In fact, I've been thinking about it all day."

The air was thick with tension, their faces inches apart, breaths mingling, she could almost taste the mint on his tongue. But then, the sound of footsteps snapped the moment in two, and they sprang apart. Evelyn's cheeks burned with fluster, while Spencer just went back to his files. 

Just then, Hotch entered. "Another victim has been killed."

--

The team assembled at the crime scene, a desolate stretch just off the Arizona highway. The air was thick, not just with the scent of the desolation, but also with the oppressive heat. The sun bore down mercilessly on the abandoned car, its metal body almost mirroring the blaze.

Evelyn squinted against the relentless sun; her hand raised to shield her eyes. "Maybe Travers isn't our guy," she pondered aloud, her gaze methodically sweeping the scene.

Evelyn reached out, her fingers wrapping around Morgan's arm to guide him into position, his broad frame now casting a long shadow that shielded her from the sun's glare. "There, much better," she said.

Morgan raised an eyebrow, feigning indignation. "What am I, your personal sunshade now?"

"Only when you're not spilling my secrets to Hotch," Evelyn shot back, her eyes twinkling with mischief. 

Morgan chuckled, shaking his head. "You're lucky I'm such a good sport, Evie."

"And you're lucky I don't have more dirt on you, Morgan," she retorted with a giggle, her gaze returning to the crime scene.

Hotch stepped in, sending a look of warning to the two agents. "Travers fits the profile too well to dismiss," he interjects, his gaze sweeping over the team. "Intelligent, meticulous, socially isolated, and motivated by a desire to be recognized. We can't overlook that."

The team fell into a contemplative silence, each member lost in thought until Prentiss arrived, her expression serious. "I talked with the company. Mr. Davidson was having issues with the remote. They sent a technician our to repair it," she announced, holding out a piece of paper with the name of the technician.

The team looked in to look at the name Prentiss had uncovered. Evelyn's mind raced. "Two different guys," she whispered, the pieces clicking into place. "One who plans, one who executes. It's a partnership."

--

In the observation room, Evelyn's gaze was fixed on the interrogation unfolding before her. Hotch's deliberate questions and Morgan's intense stare bore into Michael Harris, the technician, the focus of their scrutiny. His posture was rigid, defiant, but his eyes told a different story--a flicker of uncertainty passed through them as he kept his arms folded.

In the sterile light of the adjacent room, Reid's slender frame was hunched over the table, his fingers temped in thought. His boyish features, often softened by an air of absent-minded genius, were now sharpened. His eyes, a clear reflection of his mind's workings, flickered over Travers with a scary intensity. Prentiss stood beside him; her posture unwavering. Her dark hair was pulled back, accentuating her set jaw and calculating eyes.

Hotch stepped out, his eyes locking on Evelyn's. "These guys target what they perceive as privilege--wealth, beauty, the whole package" he explained, his voice a low rumble of contained frustration. "We need to shake him. Evelyn, I want you in there. Your profile... It'll strike a nerve."

Evelyn arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smirk. "Awh, Hotch, are you calling me beautiful? Careful, or I might start thinking it's part of the job description."

Hotch's response was immediate, his tone firm yet not unkind. "Agent," he scolded.

Evelyn's smile broadened for a fleeting moment before she nodded. "Alright, alright, I'm going. Time to see if Harris finds me as privileged as you do."

As she spun on her heel, she could practically hear the sound of Hotch's eyes rolling, his silent rebuke hanging in the air. Evelyn swept into the interrogation room, her confidence radiating like the steady glow of a lantern. Hotch's silent figure trailed behind her. Harris's discomfort was unmistakable as he met Evelyn's steady gaze, evident that her presence had unsettled him.

"Mr. Harris, we know about the visits to the victims' homes. You were the last one to see them alive." Hotch stated, the lines of his jaw tightening in sync with the syllables. The muscles in his arms flexed subtly, straining against the fabric of his dress shirt as he leaned forward. Evelyn, observing the interplay of muscle and material, had to mentally nudge herself back to the task at hand.

Morgan's voice was a low rumble, almost feral in its intensity as he leaned closer. "And let's not forget the convenient malfunctions that only you could fix."

With a graceful tilt of her head, Evelyn locked eyes with Harris. "Must be tough," she murmured, "going into those big, beautiful houses, seeing how the other half lives."

Harris's jaw tightened, muscles tensing in a visible display of restraint. "I did my job," he spat, the words forced out between clenched teeth.

"And you did it so well," she observed, her eyes not leaving his. "But tell me, Michael, did you enjoy having that power? Deciding who stayed locked in?"

Harris's gaze burned with a silent fury, a raw, seething hatred for the conventional beauty he believed had marginalized him. Evelyn's presence, her composure, it all seemed to amplify his rage, teetering him of the edge of outburst. And Evelyn knew this.

With a level gaze and a tone that left room for no argument, Hotch laid out the facts. "We know about the partnership," he said, each word deliberate, precise. "You and Travers had a system, didn't you?"

"He creates the problem, you fix it." Morgan stated pointedly, a verbal arrow pointed at Harris. "Only you're not fixing anything, are you?"

Evelyn's smile didn't reach her eyes; it was cold, calculated. "You're just the repairman, right? Or should I say the executioner?"

Harris's composure shattered, a visceral snarl ripping through his throat. "You don't know anything! You think you're something special with that pretty face?" he sneered, venom dripping from every word. "Bet you're just like the rest, sleeping their way to the top? Who'd you fuck to get this job, huh? The big boss man here?" He jerked his head contemptuously towards Hotch, the disdain clear as saliva flecked his lips.

Hotch's frame stiffened, an instinctual guard rising within him, but Evelyn was already one step ahead. Her hand met his chest, a silent signal that she could handle him, her face a mask of cool composure. "Is that the best you can do, Harris? Reduce me to looks? I thought you were smarter than that."

The flush of anger on Harris's face deepened, his rage nearly tangible in the stifling air of the room. "You don't know what it's like! You just waltz through life on your tits and ass, never having to work for anything!"

Evelyn's eyes didn't waver. "Seems like you've been watching too closely. Does it bother you, Michael? Seeing people like me succeed?" Her question was deliberate, designed to provoke him.

With a sudden, explosive motion, Harris stood, his hands slamming onto the table with a force that echoed through the room. "I worked for everything while people like you just got it all handed it all handed to them! Those people deserved it, you hear me? They deserved to burn! Travers and I were only serving justice."

--

The clink of Garcia's glass resonated through the air as she raised it high, her voice carrying over the murmur of the bustling bar. "To the most incredible team, who can solve anything with enough coffee and genius brainpower."

The team had gathered at a cozy pub, just ten minutes from Quantico, to unwind after the case. The warm glow of the vintage lamps cast a soft glow on the group, reflecting off the polished mahogany table. The atmosphere was abuzz with the chatter of fellow agents and the soft hum of jazz playing in the background.

Evelyn, dressed in a red dress that hugged every curve, felt the warmth of Hotch's firm shoulder against hers on one side and Spencer's thigh on the other. The proximity to both men sent a flutter of nerves through her. She took a discreet sip of her wine, hoping to dissipate the swarm of butterflies in her stomach. 

Morgan, ever the charmer, lifted his glass with a roguish smile. "And here's to Evelyn," he announced, "the only one who could get a raise out of Hotch with just her performance review!"

Laughter erupted around them. Evelyn's reaction was immediate; her hands flew to her face, shielding her flushed cheeks from the group. The laughter was infectious, but beneath it, she couldn't help but imagine sleeping with him. Peeking through her fingers, she shook her head in mock display. "I cannot believe he said that," she muttered.

"I think we can all agree that the Bureau's hiring practices are a bit more rigorous than that," (are they though) Hotch said. There was a brief pause as he surveyed the group, his gaze lingering on Evelyn for a moment longer than the rest. "And as for performance reviews, I believe your record speaks for itself, Evelyn. No additional... incentives are necessary."

The laughter resumed, Penelope nearly falling out of her chair. Evelyn leaned in, her voice only meant for Hotch. "Careful, Hotch," she teased, "or I'll actually start believing those rumors about your hidden sense of humor."

Morgan, with a playful smirk, couldn't help himself. "Yeah, the hiring practices are definitely more rigorous," he said, winking at Evelyn. "You just need your dad to be Jason Gideon, and you're in. No big deal, right?" 

Evelyn shot Morgan a playful glare, her voice low but teasing. "Careful, Morgan," she warned, "don't think I've forgotten about your big mouth. I might just have to start bribing you next to keep quiet."

Hotch, with a slight upward twitch of his lips that suggested a suppressed smile, shook his head. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," he said, giving Evelyn a pointed look.

--

The bar's music echoed through the air as JJ, Emily, Evelyn and Penelope found themselves on the dance floor. Their hands were occupied with the chilled glasses, condensation beading down the sides. The pulsating lights of the bar cast a kaleidoscope of colors over them.

With a lightness in her step, JJ danced with a carefree grace. Her laughter, louder and freer than it had been all night, rang out clear. "You know, I never thought I'd see the day when Rossi would be out-danced by Garcia," she said, nodding towards the table where Rossi sat, looking amused yet slightly bewildered by Garcia's animated dance moves from afar.

Evelyn's eyes followed JJ's gaze, and there they were--Hotch and Spencer--barely concealing the way they were looking at her. Their gazes were intense, unapologetically fixed on her. It was more than just a discreet glance; it was an overt appreciation that lingered just a second too long. When their eyes met hers, they looked away almost guiltily, but the message was clear; she was the object of their undivided attention.

The heat of their stares tangible, igniting a flush that spread across Evelyn's cheeks. It wasn't just the warmth of the alcohol coursing through her; it was the unexpected realization that she reveled in their attention. It was a revelation that came with a jolt of excitement--she wanted to be desired by them, liked the way her presence commanded their focus. 

With a twirl that sent her hair fanning out around her, Prentiss joined in. "Oh, come on, JJ" she teased with a wink, "you know Rossi's got moves. He's just... conserving his energy for case."

With a thoughtful sip from her glass, Evelyn relished the drink's refreshing chill amidst the bar's cozy hum. "I think it's more like he's conserving his dignity," she tossed out playfully, her remark sparking a wave of soft giggles among the group.

Penelope raised her glass as if bestowing a royal decree. "To dignity! May we always have just enough to keep us grounded, but not so much that we can't fly!"

A chorus of tipsy giggles erupted once more from the group, their movements unsteady as they huddled close, shoulders bumping and heads nearly colliding. 

Drunken giggles erupted once more from the group as they leaned into each other, nearly knocking heads. Evelyn excused herself from the dance floor, her steps unsteady as she navigated through the crowd to the bar. The dim lighting and the thrum of the music offering a brief respite from the watchful eyes of her team.

As she waited for the bartender's attention, she felt a sudden, unexpected pressure on her hips. A sharp gasp escaped her lips before she could stifle, her muscles coiling tight as she spun on her heel to confront the stranger. Yet, the touch was achingly familiar, and the voice that followed she knew all too well.

"God, Spence, you scared me," she exhaled, relief flooding her voice, her pulse gradually calming to the familiar comfort of his presence. 

Evelyn's inhale turned sharp, a shiver running down her spine as she met Spencer's gaze, his fingertips barely grazing her hips. His eyes narrowed, his lips twisting into a knowing smirk. "Sorry," he drawled, the words dripping with an insincerity that was as disarming as it was uncharacteristic. "You just look so good tonight, Evelyn."

She could feel like heat of his breath as he leaned in, the gap between them closing to a whisper. It was a side to Spencer she rarely saw--confident, assertive, and undeniably hot. Evelyn's surprise was quickly replaced by a rising excitement. 

Evelyn's voice was a hushed whisper, tinged with concern. "Spence, the team is going to see us," she warned, her eyes darting anxiously over her shoulder.

But Spencer seemed unfazed, his eyes never leaving hers. "Do you know how many guys were drooling at you on the dance floor?" he murmured, his voice low and intense. "Do you have any idea how badly I wanted to tell them how desperate and needy you were for me last night."

Evelyn's voice was reduced to a whisper as she felt the moisture starting to gather between her legs. "Spence--"

But he cut her off with a single word, "bathroom," and without another glance, he turned and walked away, his departure leaving her feeling as though the air had been vacuumed from her lungs.

She felt almost pathetic as she trailed after him like a lost puppy, her attention briefly diverted to the team, thankfully engrossed by Garcia's orchestration of a drinking game. She pivoted into the muted glow of the hallway, tucking her hair behind her ear with a practiced motion as she made her way briskly into the bathroom.

She stepped through the doorway only to be greeted by desperate hands at her ass that eagerly drew her in, yanking her into Spencer's familiar body. With a faint gasp, she melted into his touch, her intensity matching his, her fingers instinctively finding and curling into the locks of his hair. Without hesitation, he nudged her back against the sink, a quick tap to her thigh a silent command--a command she instantly obeyed, her legs encircling his waist in a tight clasp.

He murmured his approval, "good girl," he praised, a moan escaping her as she tugged gently at his hair.

His smirk, felt rather than seen, played against her lips. His hands clung to her thighs, pushing her dress up to her stomach. He broke the kiss slowly, savoring the taste before lowering himself to her legs. Spencer began to plant open mouthed kisses to the expanse of her thighs, "So sweet."

"Sp-Spencer-," she faltered, her words barely more than a breathless murmur, "we need ground, ah, rules."

Spencer clicked his tongue, his fingers idly twirling the lining of her underwear, his gaze intimately fixed between her thighs, "like what, sweetheart?"

He deftly removed the pesky shred of fabric, and she observed, her lips parted in awe, as he tucked in neatly into his pocket. Her mind went dumb as he gently coaxed her legs further apart.

His thumb began to draw languid circles against her puffed clit as she squirmed. She muffled a moan against her arm, her hips bucking against his touch. Evelyn's body was begging for more and less at the same time.

"Evelyn, use your words." Spencer chided as he drew agonizingly slow circles on the tender spot. "What rules do we need?"

"Well, for one-," she couldn't finish her sentence as Spencer plunged a finger inside her, his mouth coming down on her neck, his tongue licking long stripes up the expanse of flesh. 

Her body turned to Jello as he continued to pump in and out of her. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear as she desperately tried to ride his fingers. "You like that, baby? Keep riding my fingers, get yourself off, it's okay."

"Spencer, please, please," she couldn't even form a thought of what she was asking for, hands twisting around the curls on his head, pressing her chest flush against his.

"Oh, I know, princess." He coos condescendingly as he grinded his hard cock straining against the material of his jeans, against her body. Her eyes widened as she realized just how big he really was. The familiar tightening became to form in her core, her pants becoming more desperate, her hands clutching his face in an attempt to stabilize herself. "Let them hear how good you take it, baby."

She could feel her resolve crumbling, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she moaned out a string of nonsensical words.

The words tipped her over the edge, her body shaking with pleasure as she cried his name out. He smirked as his hand pressed down over her mouth, her breath fogging up the flesh as she rode out her high. 

"You did so good, sweetheart," Spencer praised, his hand gently sweeping the strands of hair from her face, as she offered him a blissful, dreamily smile. This man had now given her two groundbreaking orgasms.

She had never come from a man before, let one be given earth-shattering, life altering ones just from his fingers. She peeled herself away from the counter unconcerned with her disarrayed appearance as she sank to her knees. Her long lashes fluttered gently as she lifted her gaze towards Spencer.

A deep sigh escaped him, his head dropped back, fingers pressing lightly against the bridge of his nose as he declared, "Jesus, you're going to be the death of me."

Evelyn took that as her permission, her hands were a blur, swiftly working the buckle of his belt with an almost frantic efficiency.

She quickly liberated his length from the clutches of the confining material. A subtle gasp fluttered from her, barely audible, as his cock sprang to life. Mesmerized, she studied it--red, angry, massive and imposing.

A quick swipe of her tongue combated the dryness of her lips as she grasped the base with a steady hand.  He stiffened in her grasp as he extended his hand, allowing it to come to a soft halt amidst the locks of her hair at the back of her head.

She took a deep breath, trace a path with her tongue from the base to head, testing the waters. Spencer's exhale was a quiet plea, his fingers weaving through the strands of her hair.

Evelyn wanted to relish every moment, to extend the pleasure, and to take her time. Yet, she felt the pulse of Spencer's impatience. She quickly took him in her mouth, a moan enveloping around his cock while his grip tightened on her scalp.

Her lips sloppily dragged up and down the length, her eyes lifting to meet his as she felt him twitch in her mouth. "God, baby, I wish you could see how perfect you look right now."

This only egged her on and she challenged herself to go deeper. An unexpected string of profanities fell from Spencer's lips as she took him.

He cradled her face between his hands, her eyelashes batting softly in his direction. He gently gathered her hair into a ponytail as she continued to take him deeper, trails of mascara etching down her face that he found so perfect. 

"Fuck, sweetheart." He moaned out, his hips beginning to push back against her.

Evelyn's hand clung to his thighs, moisture gathering in her eyes as she continued to take his length as far as she could. She could feel he was close--the way his thighs trembled slightly under her manicured hands, the way his cock twitched ever so slightly in her mouth.

With a quick motion, Evelyn placed her hand on the base of his cock, synchronizing her strokes with her mouth, keeping her gaze locked on his. That's all it took before she felt his hold on her tighten, the hot liquid shooting on to her tongue.

She let out a sound of gratification, settling back on her heels while her tongue swept over her bottom lip. His chest heaved in a steady rhythm, his eyes lowering to meet hers, a weary smile lingering on his lips.

"Yup, like I said that will definitely be playing in my head for the rest of my life," he exhaled, his fingers sifting through his disheveled locks.

Evelyn's laughter bubbled up as he extended his hand, drawing her up to her feet. The moment she was within reach, his lips found hers, hungry and insistent. His smirk lingered as he drew away, her cheeks cupped in his hands, his thumbs tenderly sweeping away the mascara smudges.

"What were you saying about ground rules?" Spencer questioned, his voice soft colored with fatigue and a hint of exhilaration.

"Ground rules right," she said. "Absolutely. Just as soon as my neurons start firing again."

Laughter spilled out loudly, his hands deftly untangling her hair. "So, who's braving the exit first? Do you think they noticed?"

Evelyn shot him a deadpan look. "They're profilers," she reminded, then sighed. "But I'll go."

She spun around the mirror, hastily adjusting her dress and taming her hair into some semblance of order before stepping back into the bar. Evelyn's gaze landed instantly on the group, clearly tipsy, their laughter drowning out the rest of the bar. She quieted the butterflies in her stomach as she approached the rowdy group. Her eyes met Hotch's, his single raised brow a silent question about her appearance. 

"Evie!" The unmistakable sound of Penelope's shriek pierced the air as she threw her arms around Evelyn. "We were terrified, Chica! We thought we'd lost you forever."

Evelyn responded with an embarrassed laugh, "Oh, P, if I had a nickel for every time I 'died,' according to your standards I'd be out buying a yacht."

next

taglist: @nonamevenus @aceofspades190

[pretty-blkgirl]

Soul’s Desire [Ch. 7]

- Masterlist-

Knocking on the door to Bang Chan’s studio proved to be the hardest task you’ve ever faced. On the other side of the door was your soulmate, the person you were fated to be with.

On one hand, you were ecstatic, finding your soulmate was one of your biggest dreams. But on the other hand, being an idol was another one of your dreams, and what are the odds you’re meant to be with a man who’s a part of the same company as you?

You knew how big of a scandal this could be, and how much damage it would do to your respective careers. He was in one of the biggest K-pop groups in the world, and though you could already feel your affection towards him grow, you couldn’t bear to ruin everything he’s worked for.

Just as your anxiety spiked, and you contemplated running away, the studio door swung open to reveal a smiley Han Jisung.

Immediately your heart rate rose. It was silly, not only were you nervous because you were face to face with your destined partner, but also because this was the first time you both met personally.

Despite both being at JYP, the boys' schedule either had them overseas or cooped up in a studio. You being a trainee for only 6 months meant you barely had any time to meet them.

Your members met them though, Dae was even good acquaintances with Changbin, but your busy schedule (mixed with your ability to somehow miss any chance of meeting them you get) kept you away from them.

Now you stand right in front of someone who you admire and is destined to love.

Crazy how life works.

“Come in,” He says, moving to the side and allowing you to walk past. The first thing you see is Chan’s legendary laptop sitting on the desk.

Your impulsive thoughts say to touch it, but you don’t, instead, you sit on the sofa and look down at your shoes.

Han, ever so attentive to the new mark that connects you two, taps your shoulder and waits patiently for you to look up at him.

When you do, he’s wearing a kind look, “Foods gonna be here soon.”

You nod and quickly look down again, not missing the small chuckle Han lets out before he sits at the edge of the desk. There’s an awkward silence before he decides to break it

“Stop being so nervous”

“You’re Han Jisung”

“You’re y/n y/l/n”

“You’re HAN JISUNG”

“Call me Hannie” He smirks, “All the people close to me call me that”

“We’re close?”

“We’re soulmates. It doesn’t get any closer than that”

A knock on the door startled you briefly but Han walks to the door, opens it slightly, and talks to the person outside. The conversation is quick, and he closes the door after a few minutes.

“Staff?” You ask

“Yeah, my manager”

Your anxiety rises a little, “Does he know about me?”

“He definitely knows about your group, and he’s good friends with your manager, so I’d say yes”

You sigh, “Han, I mean does he know about us?”

“He doesn’t” He shrugs, “I promised you I wouldn’t tell anyone”

“Right” you nod, “Only one of my members know, we shouldn’t tell anyone else”

Han’s silence is, frankly, loud. It causes your anxiety to rise as you ponder over what’s not being said.

“There’s something you’re not telling me”

“We should get to know each other”

“Han please just tell me”

“Can’t I get to know my soulmate a little?”

With a defeated groan, you scoot over and pat the space next to you on the couch. He happily sits and isn’t shy about checking you out.

“You’re gorgeous” He sputters, “I’m a lucky guy”

Your cheeks heat up instantly, “You’re pretty nice-looking yourself”

The conversation flows after that, with you two telling stories about your predebut life, your likes and dislikes, and most importantly- what you expect from a soulmate.

“I value affection, but I understand some people aren’t affectionate,” You say, “What’s your love language?”

“Honestly I think all of them” Han answers with a small chuckle, “How about you?”

“Same! I can’t pick one. Lately, I’m into physical touch though, my members are sick of me”

This makes Han burst out laughing, and you realize just how cute his laugh is.

Once he’s calmed down, he looks at you with pure adoration, “I can’t believe this is the first time we met. How long were you a trainee again?”

“Six months” You answer, “I heard Lee Know was a trainee for only a couple weeks though?”

“That’s true! He’s so talented, I’m excited for you to meet the guys”

“Yeah, I hope they like me”

All the ease drained from you as Han gave you a weird look

“Han, you’re still not telling me something”

He sighs, “I just don’t know how you’re gonna react”

“Is it bad?” You question, your nerves causing you to tap your foot repeatedly

“No,” He says, “Just a lot to take in”

He sets a comforting hand on your knee, and you stop tapping your foot instantly.

“How’s your symbol feeling?” He questions suddenly

“It kinda tingles a little, I thought that maybe it was reacting to the bond you have with your members…?”

He gives you a small grin, “Yeah, that’s halfway right”

“Can you please tell me the whole truth?”

“…The bond is reacting that way because I’m not your only soulmate”

You were surprised, but not as much considering this theory had been in the back of your mind.

Okay, so you have more than one, crazy but not impossible.

“Okay, is it Chan and Changbin? My palm burned when I saw them earlier”

Han looked away and scratched his neck nervously, “Yeah it’s them”

“Okay, three soulmates! That’s alright, I’ll get used to it” Your tone was optimistic, and you thought Han would share the same sentiment.

Unfortunately, he looked back at you with an odd expression

“Um… what if I said there are more?”

“What? You said it was Chan and Changbin”

“It is! That’s just not it”

You groaned loudly, “Who else then?”

“…..the other five members”

~~~~|~~~~

Taglist: @prttyxbby @yukichan67 @h0rnyp0t @chuuyaobsessed @hanniemylovelyquokka

[bonesandthebees]

Tomys immediately knows what to do, find shelter -> get wood -> start fire -> check out Wilbur's injury.

And Wilbur doesn't want Tomys to leave to get wood. If something happens to Tomys then he's just done for. What's he going to do with a broken leg inside a cave with no warmth? Nothing. I'm unsure how much of that is the selfish vs selfless to make sure Tomys lives. Because he does sort of accept his death at this point. Does want Tomys to leave him. But of course Tomys has to leave to get wood unless they want to freeze to death anyway. And Wilbur can't exactly argue with that, nor does he get a chance to.

Of course things get so much worse when Wilbur is alone. Tomys no longer there to distract him, and there's nothing he can do. Just stuck on the ground in a dark cave with this injury. Of course he spirals.

I find it so interesting how he thinks about his survival throughout this. Sometimes he thinks he has a chance of survival, other times he's sure he doesn't. He's grateful his bone isn't exposed since that increases his survival, but he also wants Tomys to just go because at least one of them will survive. It's those contradictions that really make themselves known in these impossible situations. A situation Wilbur has never been close to before (mostly because of his father as we learn later in the chapter) so it's so interesting to compare that to Tomys who has been in somewhat similar situations, running away and such (although definitely not to this degree)

-🐚

for as much as wilbur prides himself on being the mature smart one of the two of them, when it comes down to it, wilbur is a terrified 18 year old who does whatever his dad tells him to. his leg is broken, he was nearly killed a few minutes before, and now the only other person around is going to leave again. the same person the bandits were trying to kill. of course wilbur is scared when tommy goes off again.

overall wilbur's spiral is an example of his warring logic vs emotions. wilbur has always been taught by phil to think about situations rationally. look at outside factors, be realistic, determine what the best course of action is based off of those things. and right now he knows their chances aren't good. but again, he's a scared shitless 18 year old. he wants to live, even if he knows the smart choice here is to let tommy leave him behind

tommy, meanwhile, has survived this before. yes he's scared, but he knows getting through this isn't impossible. he just has to be smart about it

[ifacotarwasgood]

CHAPTER 7 - page 8/?

original word count: 5525

revised word count: 2742

click for ch 7's full comparison document.

original:

the wall, if you flee, your family will no longer be cared for.” His words were like a stone to the head. If I escaped, if I even tried to run, I might very well doom my family. And even if I dared risk it … even if I succeeded in reaching them, where would I take them? I couldn’t stow my sisters away on a ship—and once we arrived somewhere else, somewhere safe, we’d have nowhere to live. But for him to hold my family’s well-being against me, to throw away their survival if I stepped out of line… I opened my mouth, but his snarl rattled the glasses. “Is that not a fair bargain? And if you flee, then you might not be so lucky with whoever comes to retrieve you next.” His claws slipped back under his knuckles. “The food is not enchanted, or drugged, and it will be your own damn fault if you faint. So you’re going to sit at this table and eat, Feyre. And Lucien will do his best to be polite.” He threw a pointed look in his direction. Lucien shrugged. The invisible bonds loosened, and I winced as I whacked my hands on the underside of the table. The bonds on my legs and middle remained intact. One glance at Tamlin’s smoldering green eyes told me what I wanted to know: his guest or not, I wasn’t going to get up from this table until I’d eaten something. I’d think about the sudden change in my plans to escape later. Now…for now I eyed the silver fork and carefully picked it up. They still watched me—watched my every move, the flare of my nostrils as I sniffed the food on my plate. No

revised:

Tamlin pushed a hand through his golden hair. “I’m only going to say this once. If you cross the wall, my side of the bargain is over. I will no longer take care of your family. If you flee, and someone less kind than me retrieves you, it will be your fault that they suffer. Do you understand?” I fought to nod against the invisible restraints. Pressure held tight against my throat. He repeated, “Do you understand?” I swallowed thickly. “I understand.” “Good. Now, you’re going to eat, and we’re all going to be polite. Right, Lucien?” Lucien shrugged but said nothing. The bonds on my arms loosened, and my hands smacked the underside of the table. The bindings on my legs and torso didn’t let go. One glance at Tamlin told me, guest or not, I wasn’t going to get up until I’d eaten. Stabbing a piece of chicken, I took a bite. It was an effort not to grunt. The meat was tender and savory, salty skin crackling deliciously on my tongue. I ripped off another piece. I’d never had food like this before. I was shoving in mouthfuls of creamy potatoes before I’d even swallowed. A plum so juicy it dribbled down my chin. The wine was sharp and effervescent, bubbles tickling my nose.

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

Request-ish for great 7 au if you dont mind, but what kinds of pictures do you think the g7 keep of yuu? Whether in like a photo book or their wallet or whatever? (Also if you dont mind maybe what their favorite photo of yuu is as well?) Love your writing have a good day!

A Picture of Yuu

Trying to ease myself back into writing and decided to try this out as a semi request! Gn yuu per usual, minot spoilers for ch 2— This is based of my Great 7 fic Unit:Yuu!

Notes: I do not know what kind of Arab Jafar is Aba/Baba for him, please let me know if this incorrect—

Queen of Hearts + Jabberwock

The Queen of Hearts has always been a zany one to say what photo she has of you that she adores on any given day would be difficult. In short, she loves them all!

It is such a shame that instant photography wasn't a thing back in her era, she would have taken so many photos of herself and Wonderland and she would have loved to show you all of them, it would certainly save the Jabberwock from having to explain so much.

The Queen watches you from afar as she drifts into her own thoughts. How she would have loved to take you into Wonderland with her and have your portraits done together.

Perhaps you could take your camera with you and you both can record all the memories you make together? How fitting would it have been to have photos of you in your wackiest poses and outfits up on the walls without having to get each one painstakingly painted?

She watches you rest the Jabberwocks head on her lap, and a smile graces her face at the sight of her little Rose with her greatest warrior. Should she still have her kingdom, she would have barked orders for the royal painter immediately.

Perhaps she doesn't have a favorite photo or picture of you because it hasn't made it yet, and as you take a photo of you and her with the Jabberwock all together (a photo you will undoubtedly hide from Crowley), she realizes she would never be able to find a favorite, as all she wants to now is to keep taking more.

Scar + The Hyenas

Scar has seen Rafiki's artwork before, and he was never impressed by the crude cave paintings he made, especially the ones that represented him.

If Rafiki were to have made one of you, however... he wouldn't know how to feel.

Even then, he much prefers these cameras and their strange instant paintings, after all he has never looked better in them! They really catch his good side!

Scar would huff in faux uninterest when he sees you pointing the camera around and taking photos of those three idiot hyenas around Ramshackle. And when you take photos of him he certainly doesn't strike a pose on purpose! (He snarls at Ed who even thinks about mentioning the idea.)

Still even as you show all of the photos you took, even of the ones of you, the hyenas, and him, it can never compare to the old "photo" of you and him together that he keeps hidden.

Cub is what he called you. To him, you were one. He was teaching you how to hunt with those Hyenas, how to sneak up on your prey and attack, and your victorious smile as you helped them take down a gazelle.

He remembered his muddy paws dragging across stony ground as Banzai carried the gazelle carcass with him, the group of hunters having to take it to the fire so you can eat.

Scar noticed how you suddenly stopped in your tracks and stared down at the ground. Annoyed, Scar huffed telling you to hurry up, and when you went on your knees and poked at the ground below you he snarled and circled back to you

That was when he noticed you were staring at his paw print in part of the ground. Your child self seemed to glow when you saw it, and you took your own muddy and bloodied hand and put it right over his print as if comparing sizes. When you took it away, he saw your small handprint right on his.

He may have actually have had a soft moment with you then and there if it wasn't for the hyena's prodding. Upon seeing the hand and paw print, Ed immediately remarked on how he wanted to do that too, and put his own next to yours, then Shenzi and Banzai, ever competitive, started arguing about doing the same, shoving each other out of the way to put their paw down as well.

In the end, all of your prints were together in a way that oddly resembled Rafiki's dribble. "Are you all satisfied now?" He huffed, snarling, "Now go! All of you!" He barked making the hyenas walk off and you follow. As you all walked off he tore up that part of the stone from the ground and carried it in his mouth, following the cackle closely behind with it.

He despised the way some child managed to worm his way into his heart and yet here is years later with you all grown up, and he still has the stone tablet hidden away for his eyes only. He refuses to let you see how soft he has gotten for you.

Shenzi definitely knows of it and tells you about his secret, prompting Scar to try and kill her.

Ursula + The Eels

Oh dear, now that's a question all right.

If it was up to her and she was able to have had you down in Atlantica, she would have hung so many paintings of you and her poopsies on her grotto walls, your chubby baby self was adorable, you know?

She often has fleeting thoughts of being the one to have brought you up under the sea. Just her a single mom and her three kids as her accomplice in villainy. How she would teach you how to brew the most powerful potions and run a good business...

Even now, she watches the curious glint in your eyes as you explore NRC and takes photos of everything, she's happy you have started to discover who you are.

You naturally take a lot of photos of her new makeup looks, along with your eel brothers wearing matching drag with you. She loves to pick up the Polaroids and commits them to memory, swiping her thumb over herself along with her children's faces lovingly.

It was during one of your weekly drag/makeup nights together. You had on some dramatic trashy show in the background as you all talked and did makeup. You kept one of your eyes closed ad Flotsam hangs on your neck like a scarf, using his tail to hold a brush and dab on eyeshadow while you work on Jetsam's eyebrows. Ursula smiled at the sight of her children bonding.

The peace didn't last long, as you made a particularly shady remark about that crow bastard causing Flotsam to cackle and squeeze you slightly, and Jetsam to slap you fave lightly with his tail.

As the Sibling Codex states, you all now must duel in a free for all and allow no survivors. There are no rules to uphold any honor.

Standing up, you pried Flotsam's body making him loosen the grip around your neck, and flung up the arm that Jetsam was anchored on.

Comically, the dangling eel slapped the camera sitting on the coffee table up from where it was and snap a photo.

"Jetsam! I swear if the camera is broken—" "Hey you're the one that flung me!"

Picking up the camera and looking it over you let out a breath of relief before checking out the film that came out

"Come here dear let me see..." Urusla spoke as you walked over.

Though slightly blurry, the photo featured all of you. You had a bright smile on your features as did your siblings who were smushed into you as fashionable accessories. In the background, Ursula sat elegantly admiring her children. And though she wasn't the center of the photo, she loved to see her children happy.

Were she were back in her grotto, this photo would have been displayed as one of her most prized possessions.

Jafar + Iago

It wasn't often he dreamt, but when he did, he dreamed big. He was Sultan of the Sands and the most powerful sorcerer of all with you as his heir by his side. Sure, Iago would be there too he supposes...

He would rule with an iron fist and bring about a Golden Age for his kingdom while tutoring you on the side, teaching you laws and ideals and the most powerful spells he knows. There would be all sorts of depictions of the two of you, mosaics, tapestries, poems, paintings, and perhaps even a few statues as well.

You would both be depicted as you should: powerful and intelligent... and Iagos there too he guesses...

So imagine his surprise when his favorite photo isn't a pretentious one at all.

When you first got your camera, he took pride in being photographed and always posed his very best, he wouldn't stand for any unsightly photos you may try to take. He would stand tall with Iago on his shoulder and staff in hand, evil and powerful. He would hate to be depicted as anything less.

As you set up the ghost camera on the stand, you start to take a few experimental photos as well as test out the timer function on it. Honesty it was thanks to Jafar it worked, his intuition and knowledge of technology were always remarkable.

"Any more trouble from that device, Yuu?" Jafar's voice snaps you out of focus as you turn to him standing in the common room, Iago perched where he usually was. "Nope not anymore, thank you Baba" you smile as you check out the camera again.

"Want to try and take a photo with me to test it out?" "If you mean one of those 'selfies' I will have to refuse!" "No, no, not like that I promise!"

Arching a brow and heaving a sigh Jafar relents. You get to work setting up the camera before running over to pose with them. You watched as the timer counted down... 4...3...2...

Suddenly, you throw yourself into Jafar in a deep hug as Iago squawks indignantly. The flash goes off. Sputtering for a moment as he takes a moment to adjust himself, he huffs. "What was the meaning of that Diamond?" Jafar snaps as he shoots you a glare. "Yeah that's the big deal?!" Iago cawed.

You smirked as you snagged the Polaroid out of the camera and aired it out with a few shakes before showing the pair.

The photo showed you pulling Jafar closer to you, holding onto and nuzzling into him dearly like a toddler would do their mother. He actually wore the slightest smile in the photo. Iago's wings were spread and for once he looked like the lively bird he was and not some villainous lackey.

"I have a lot of photos of Jafar and Iago, but none of my baba and my friend" You muttered holding the photo close to you. "But now I do, and don't worry it's for my eyes only... I would hate to ruin your image.

Jafar shuts his eyes for a moment, perhaps he was unintentionally and unknowingly strict. "No no, retake the photo, little one." He says as he holds your shoulder. "Let's take another photo as a family this time."

Jafar and Iago both sat on the rickety couch of Ramshackle as you set up the camera again before running back and sitting next to them. Iago hopped into your lap as you hugged the vizier. Jafar looked down at you both lovingly before wrapping his arms around you gently, allowing the camera to snap, and like that, his favorite photo of you was made.

Queen Grimhilde + The Raven

Ever since staying in Ramshackle, the Evil Queen would dream about being back home in her palace. She would walk down the halls of rooms and for a moment pretend the floors were stone and echoed with her steps and not creak under her weight. The walls were to be lined with intricate decor and tapestries along with art, and as she walks into your room to look at the mirror, she imagines it's her vanity where she would admire herself.

Raven stood on her shoulder preening her and she shut her eyes imagining the glory days when she ruled but this time she imagines herself with you at her side.

How you would sit on the stool in front of her vanity and look at yourself in the mirror as she clasps a necklace onto you after she finished dressing you up. How you would walk beside her amongst the guards and servants as she enters the throne room which used to have a lone throne but now has two.

How you would both sit regally as she deals with nobles and teach you how to rule with an iron fist and to be your worst possible self. How she would take you to her garden and poisons and teach you how to grow and use each one, later taking you into her study to practice your potionology.

You deserved much better than this place in her eyes, and once she gets her body back she will ensure you both rise to power once again. Even if you are currently living in a... less than ideal situation she will have you carry yourself with the same level of respect and pride she feels like you should have.

She shows you which plants can be used for hair and skin and makeup. She shows you how to embroider your clothes and sew. She shows you proper manners for everything as well— no child of hers will be taken for a slob. Your elegance hides your wild side and villainous upbringing well, only showing it to those who are worthy.

Her ghost sits across from you in the guest room, a glass of tea poured out for her in her honor though she can't drink from it. You finish up your latest piece as you push the needle through a few more times. Letting out a breath of relief, you tuck away the needle and hold out the new dress shirt you made in your preferred style. "Good work," she says approvingly as the Raven lets out a squawk, and you both continue to chat about your day.

The next day, you put on the shirt you worked so hard on, slipping on the right pants, shoes, and homemade accessories to match. Today, your mother decides to help you put on some light makeup, her ghost guiding your hands to apply foundation.

She then helps you put on your accessories and she is reminded of the fantasy she had the other day. "Thank you, Mama." You say smiling. "I guess this is my first official... complete outfit..." You didn't any decent clothes to start with since coming here, and even when you wore nicer things, you could never truly make it your own, you couldn't have your own style. Yet in the mirror you see all of your hard work put into sewing and saving, creating an outfit from your mother's love.

You look at yourself in the hand mirror you own as the Queen holds your face lovingly. "Shall we take a photo to commemorate the occasion?" You ask, smiling. "Ah yes, that ghost camera of yours can see me, can't it?"

You nod and begin to set the camera up. The Queen never cared for the photos it took, preferring the status symbol of oil paintings in her castle. As you stood next, she helped to pose you at the perfect angle, adjusting your posture and such as she stood beside you, hand on your head.

The photo came out, and it was as perfect as she would imagine it to be. Admiring it, she thinks back to getting her power again and her castle back, and for some reason, the first thing she imagines doing is to recreate this portrait with you, this time in paint, and the highest quality clothes you want.

Hades + Pain & Panic

His favorite photo of you? One where you look your best, one where you look powerful and strong and— oh wait his favorite photo of you?

When Hades found out the ghost camera can register him, he and his imps were over the moon. You best believe you had to make him look cool. (You gave in because Hades was never given the same respectable portraits compared to his family).

Every photo of him portraying him positively... touched my heart. He wasn't the unwanted brother or the laughing stock, outcasted and forgotten. He was Hades, God of the Underworld.

The imps also loved any photos of them taken positively, but they also didn't mind the funny ones too. Honestly, these two were absolute menaces with the camera, often stealing it and taking the worst photos of you.

Though you have some photos of yourself, or with your friends, none of them ever truly called out to Hades. He would simply see some as neat or use photos to lovingly bully you. Yet when he thought about it, all of his siblings seemed to always have some sort of art piece representing their children, he remembers Zeus and his insane amount of photos of his brat when he was born after all. He can't help but sort of desire one... but what?

For a good, while he can't help but look at all the photos you take and pay special attention to the ones that you were in— you best believe that if you have a photo with one of your friends he's gonna tease you for your "boyfriend".

As he goes through them he tries to find one that feels like it shows off his kid well, yet he can't. You look good in all of your photos, but you didn't feel like you. That's the one thing he's noticed since coming here. You couldn’t be your true self, you weren't allowed to bare your teeth and be truly free the way you should be.

Hades actually stews on this for a while silently, Pain and Panic bother him about it much to his chagrin. As the days went by Hades seemed to get more and more and more annoyed by your environment sucking the life out of you. Homework was annoying, Ramshackle sucked, and that damned crow bastard keeps dumping responsibility onto you! How is his kiddo supposed to shine like this?!

Recently, Crowley dumped another annoying task onto you— something stupid about looking into clumsy kids. You hated it but got Pain and Panic ready to help you as you went about interviewing victims and such. It was rotten work.

Maleficent + Diaval

Eventually, with your idiot squad, things picked up, and you came up with the idea of catching the perpetrator with your camera, as Crowley states he needs evidence. One thing led to another. Here we are in the Savanahclaw Dorm, facing the lion down face to face. Pain and Panic stood on either side of you as you stood your ground, stance widening to prepare for a fight.

And fight you did. Hades watched in absolute awe as you fought against the blot, rolling and sliding past attacks while seizing any opportunity to get a hit or to create an opening for your friends. Pain and Panic both helped, occasionally lashing at Leona to throw off his aim or providing your some healing and shielding with their shapeshifting abilities.

As the dust settled, and the sun rose higher in the sky, your silhouette stood amongst the rubble as you panted, fists still clenched. You had a powerful aura around you along with a steely gaze as you stared down at the lion beneath you. Panic suddenly pops up, ghost camera in hand as he snaps a photo. "How's that for proof?" he snickers alongside Pain as you finally relax.

The photo standing over your opponent had exactly what the other photos of you lacked. There was a fire in your eyes, a confident stance, and though dirt-covered and sweaty, you were unapologetically you in the moment. Not to mention badass.

Yet that wasn't the only reason Hades adored it. The image reminded of him Zeus' brat he despised. How that damned Hercules would be painted and shown off everywhere as a legend with his powerful stance, often standing over the slain monsters that Hades meticulously put together to defeat him.

And yet... here you were: A mirror image of him, a perfect foil. And unlike Hercules, you were still here and so was he. That brat failed to kill him. Through his child, he has won... Ha! Take that, Zeus! Just wait for round 2! This time, he won't fail.

Maleficent is also one who doesn't understand newer technology. She simply can't wrap her head around a device that makes portraits instantly without magic. After a bit of explanation from Diaval (who still doesn't know much), she simply accepts it.

Like Grimhilde, the Fae much prefers painted portraits, and often finds herself imagining how you would look in one every time she sees one of your "selfies".

The Fae Queen finds it endearing that you want to take photos of her and your dear uncle Diaval, trying your best to make some good memories in this miserable place. Even on your nightly walks together, you bring your camera with you to photograph the wildlife around you.

Seeing your features light up just by seeing the smallest bug makes her feel a strange sense of pride as if this proves you belong to her and the forest of the fae. She's glad to know that enjoys nature just as much as her.

Passing by a small pond, the three of you pause for a moment. Diaval, in his crow form, is happily perched onto your shoulder, nuzzling and preening you as you give him a few scratches and look up to the night sky above you. As your eyes reflect the stars, Maleficent is reminded of a fond memory.

You were a child at the time, to be honest, she couldn't tell you how old you were, at her age, all children start looking the same.

The fae was coming to terms with being a ghost— a ghost stuck inside a child no less— and she certainly did not appreciate it. How could such a pudgy and idiotic vessel possibly be worthy of the Mistress of All Evil?

She would sneer at the idea of growing attached to you. Even as your child self waved and smiles at her, she snarled in response, baring her fangs at you. To her surprise, you merely giggled. She wasn't amused.

No matter how many times she snapped and told you to go away, or order Diaval to distract you, you would always come back to her eventually. She just didn't get it, why do you like her so much?! Under the guise of not wasting her breath or energy, she stopped trying to distance herself from you, allowing your small baby hands to play with her cloak or touch her horns. You were a curious little beastie, weren't you?

She remembers watching you grow up little by little, watching your kid self play with Diaval as a crow and give each other affection, how she cast protection spells on you as you ran through the forest barefoot, cursing any sharp stones you may step on.

She remembers guiding you as you picked berries and copied the animals you saw. She remembers singing you lullabies and telling you stories of her home, hoping she could take you to it. Her warnings about trusting men.

She remembers how unequivocally she fell for the child that melted her heart, and how she assigned Diaval to you, making him promise to always watch out for you and to serve you as he did her.

And she especially remembers how you approached her with a scribbled-on, crumpled sheet of paper. You babbled as you held up the piece to her. Kneeling down with her usual stern expression, she examined the scribbles closer.

Crude lines depicted an all-black horned figure holding a staff in one hand, hand awkwardly stretched out to touch hands with the tiny figure in the middle. An attempt at a blackbird was drawn in the other outstretched hand of the child, its best open in a caw. All of the figures had clumsy smiles. Arrows pointed to all of the figures labeled 'Me' 'Malycent' and 'Diovl'

Diaval perched on Maleficent's shoulder, getting the best look he could before swooping in and nuzzling your kid self. As you laughed and giggled Maleficent allowed a small smile to grace her features as she watches you play.

To this day, she still has the piece of paper in her cloak, enchanted with the strongest protection spell she could do in her current state. In her mind, no other portrait than the one you drew could ever compare.

Perhaps one day when she rules from her thorny castle, she will have this art piece framed in her study, for her eyes only.

[fanfics-i-wanna-read]

Swan Queen Fake Dating Fanfics Masterlist

Canon-compliant*:

Temporary Distractions by amycarey (12/12 chapters)

Not So Fake Relationship (version 1) by edean13 (one shot)

Not So Fake Relationship (version 2) by edean13 (one shot)

Showtime by mustdefine (one shot)

One date by PhoenixTat (one shot)

Fauxlationship by CarrotLucky13 (one shot)

I Wear the Pants by inkheart9459 (one shot)

Look Who Came To Dinner by brokenmimir (one shot)

SwanQueen Week Summer 2014 (Ch. 2) by EmmaShalforever (one shot)

I Can Almost Hear Your Harmony by swansaloft (one shot)

See I Look For You In The Morning by BrokenEvilRegal (one shot)

Operation Albatross (or something like that) by perfection_located (6/6 chapters)

Milk Bottles and Misunderstandings by boxxybrown506 (one shot)

our tiktok remix is both atrocious and catchy by coalitiongirl (one shot)

Love Triangles Are For Losers by seriousfic (one shot)

See l Look For You In The Morning by BrokenEvilRegal (one shot)

Pretend We Used To Be Lesbian Lovers! Do It For The Children! by seriousfic (2/2 chapters)

Girlfriendy Displays by TheOnlySPL (one shot)

The Door to the Heart Is Open and Shut by undergroundlegends (one shot)

I thought love was only true in fairy-tales by OceanAndARock (one shot)

The Truth Always Comes Out by angstbot (16/16 chapters)

Fake Relationship by EmmaShalforever (one shot)

Fake Relationship by imaginecreatebefall (one shot)

My Girlfriend, Regina by giftofamber (one shot)

Not a Bad Thing by ofendlesswonder (one shot)

The Long Con by lostlilsnail (one shot)

AU:

The Story of It All by Sage1982 (14/14 chapters)

Date in the Name of the Law by apples-a-day (one shot)

For Love or Money by starsthatburn (38/38 chapters)

I'll Be Home For Christmas (With My Fake Girlfriend) by nakedrednailpolish (14/14 chapters)

Wedding Crasher by misscanteloupe (one shot)

Marry Me (Because I'd Like to Date You) by starsthatburn (10/10 chapters)

Faking It by YoungTruthLP (one shot)

Gonna Go Down in Flames by amycarey (one shot)

Let’s Play Pretend by shopfront (one shot)

Suitor in the garden by Sparring Woodpecker (one shot)

Right Kind of Wrong by cynarabueno (20/28 chapters, in progress)

This Baby is Not an Excuse by AlexRyzlinGold (one shot)

where dwell the brave at heart by coalitiongirl (one shot)

A bed of roses by sunofthemoon (10/10 chapters)

All I want for Christmas is you by FadedRiddler (one shot)

Complex Relations by MoonlitRamblings (11/11 chapters)

A Christmas Game by BlueHoneyBee (long one shot)

First Comes Marriage by Alternate8reality (7/7 chapters)

We haven't mended by HelveticaBrown (8/8 chapters)

Christmas at the Mills' by Swen and Chill (anotherouatwriter) (one shot)

Make Me Dance (I Want To Surrender) by glowswen (one shot)

*By "canon-compliant" I just mean that the story takes place in the universe of the show, it may still diverge drastically from the canon storylines at one point or have slight changes to canon.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

(Series Completed)

Ch 1– Spend a Little

Ch 2–  Live a Little

Ch 3– Dead for a Moment

Ch 4– Back at My Place

Ch 5– Come Smell the Roses

Ch 6–Make a Mistake

Ch 7– Set Heaven on Fire

Ch 8– The Sun Will Rise

Ch 9– I Think It’s Time

Ch 10– See If It Fits

[anki-of-beleriand]

Bad Liar ch.8

Summary: Life is about lessons, and Wanda has been learning some harsh facts that had define her life and taken her to a place in which she was given a second chance. Then, all of a sudden, she meets you, and she realizes why it's easier to lie to yourself than to accpet what's right in front of her.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers

Warnings: Slow burn - slightly Enemies to friends to lovers - Mentions of abusive relationships - Toxic relationships - angst - drama - mentions of abuse - idiots in love - homophobia - more tags as the story progress.

Author's note: Here is a new chapter and Reader and Wanda are getting closer, Reader puts an end to her confusion and the past is at Rader's doorstep.

As always, English is no my mother tongue, so please forgive the grammar, spelling and funny mistakes!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 8

Breaking the past

The sun had a way to sneak inside her room, the light rays of light projecting hues of colour with a welcoming warmth that soothed her to sleep again. The memories of childhood days spent in bed, trying to sleep in before being taken away from the comfort of her bed and made to be an avid participant in the house chores. Wanda fluttered her eyes open to see the time gleaming from the digital clock in her bedside table. 

9 am. 

She smiled knowing the twins must be asleep as well, Saturdays had become one her favourite days of the week. It was a time in which she could spend time with her children, she was able to read and to paint, to do all the things she had denied herself for too long. But that particular morning, her smile was brighter, and the fluttering butterflies at the pit of her stomach were a memory of your words the night before. 

I was hoping you would come to my place and we could have lunch together. 

Wanda felt a tug on her heart, she closed her eyes for a brief moment only to see your smile from the night before. She never imagined that spending time with you would result in her having so much time, or in you being a complete child while taking the kids with you to form a team during the game. She had seen a part of you that had melted away her heart and her resolution. Wanda turned to her back glancing at the ceiling with her heart speeding at the memory of the kiss you placed on her cheek. 

But before she could delve even more in the memory, before she allowed the sweet, tortuous tingling in her body to travel down to her crotch, there was a knock on her door. Wanda sat almost right away, her eyes going big with anticipation, she spoke before she could stop herself with a voice heavy with sleep and confusion. 

“Who is it?” Wanda winced, rolling her eyes at her own stupidity. She tried to stand up before the door was opened but it was late. 

There standing by the door were the twins, they were holding one white rose in their hands and some superhero mugs with big smiles, behind them you were carrying a tray filled with eggs, bread, coffee and orange juice. 

The world came to a halt. 

Wanda observed the scene trembling like a leaf. Her breath caught on her throat, her eyes going from her children to you then back to them. She opened her mouth and closed it again, but there was nothing she could say without breaking up and giving into panic and tears. 

“Hey, sorry, they called America, but she stayed over at Loki’s place and America called me and… Well, you were asleep, and they were hungry, and I thought that you may need the sleep and…”

The twins snickered entering the room slowly, the both of them offered the white rose to Wanda who took them with trembling hands. The look in her eyes cut off you babbling, and you regretted doing what you just did. You had overstepped quite foolishly, assuming whatever had happened last night was an open invitation to… to be a freaking stalker or something equally awful. 

“Mommy, Y/N made pancakes like dinosaurs!”

“And we played, and helped her, and she let us pick the flowers!”

“Mommy, Y/N told us that we could watch the whole Jurassic Park movie on her TV, can we go?”

“You like the pretty flowers, Mommy?”

Wanda was bombarded by two hyperactive twins waiting patiently to Wanda 

You kicked yourself for just barging in the other woman's home without even asking, for thinking that perhaps this was okay. You and Wanda were not friends. Or, were you? 

Your trail of thoughts was cut short by a warm hand on yours. Wanda offered a trembling smile, she opened her mouth and then closed it again. 

“I… I…”Wanda snorted, shaking her head. “You didn't have to do this.”

You tilted your head holding onto the tray, it was true you didn't have to do it. You did it because you wanted to, because you hadn't stopped thinking about Wanda. Because you woke up thinking you could have kissed her the night before. 

“I just… I'm shocked, I've never had breakfast in bed.” She said, trying to ease out the uncomfortable silence in the room. 

“Never?” You asked incredulously, Wanda shook her head and just as you were to say something else Billy came forward speaking loudly. 

“Daddy said mommies didn't deserve breakfast and they should be serving us.” Billy made up a face sulking a little. “But Balder told us that his dad serves breakfast to his mommy… Because he loves her…”

Tommy placed his hand on his chin, pursing his lips while glancing up at where you were standing frozen in place after such a revelation. 

“Do you love mommy?” Tommy finally asked, and it was his question what broke the uncomfortable tension in the room.

Your face turned in a mask of reds and disbelief, while Wanda was just as mortified as you. The twins, blissfully ignorant of what they had just done, went back to crawl inside Wanda's bed and turned the TV on. 

Wanda was afraid to lift her gaze and discover disgust in your face, perhaps to find you looking at her as if Vision had been right all along. You don't deserve to eat, dear, last night I wasn't satisfied as I should be and you have to make it up to me today. 

You cleared your throat stepping closer with a grin in place. Your eyes gleamed warmly, tilting your head to catch those green irises in yours. 

“Well, boys, mommies deserve breakfast in bed every single day of the week.” You declared casually. “You guys love your mommy, right?”

Wanda's heart shrank with emotion when the twins exclaimed a loud yes, you were now dangerously close to her. 

“Then, it is obvious that she needs her breakfast.” You cleared your throat once more and this time around Wanda did look up to see you before her. “Let me make sure you have your first warm breakfast in bed, Wands.”

For a brief moment, you and Wanda stared into one another's eyes without any need to break into explanations. You were not asking for them, and Wanda was too afraid to say something and scared you away. The young woman fixed her position in bed, and you soon placed the trail on her lap. You offered a quick smile nodding to the twins and the tray. 

“Now, Wands, you go ahead and eat while you watch some cartoons with the children.”

“Cartoons?” Wanda asked amusedly, whatever nervousness she was experimenting with was diminished by your comment. The twins nodded watching as you surf the channels looking for some good cartoons. 

“Yes, Saturday mornings are mornings of cartoons and sleeping in until you can't take bed anymore.” You winked at her, and Wanda melted at the sight. 

She was foolish not to think that this was nothing more than a friendly gesture, and Wanda knew later on she would need to provide explanations about the comments made by Billy. But at the moment she could give in the moment, enjoyed the warm meal and the familiarity of the scene. 

Soon you found something Billy and Tommy asked for and the room filled with the sound of paw patrol. You smirked at Wanda who winced lightly while Tommy and Billy were hooked from the start. 

“And, what are you supposed to do now?” Wanda asked teasingly, you stood there for a moment putting the rose you had in your back pocket out and placing it on the tray. “Are you going to stay with us?”

Wanda tried to make it sound casual, as if she was just teasing you. But the air left her lungs when you leaned in, your eyes locked on hers, twinkling with an emotion that made Wanda's heart jump in her throat and her core tremble with longing. 

“Now you enjoy and later on I will wait for you at my place for lunch.”

“Stay.” Wanda said before she could stop herself, she opened her eyes, lowering her gaze. “I mean… You're here now, so you could have breakfast and…”

You chuckled winking at her, “perhaps at another time. Right now I have to run some errands and I want to make sure Billy and Tommy are okay before you wake up.”

“Thank you.” Wanda mumbled, you waved away her words walking backwards with a grin adorning your features. 

“Don't mention it, it was my pleasure. See you later, Wands.”

You almost crashed against the threshold, cursing lowly while hearing the snort of amusement from Wanda. Blushing lightly you shook your head and exited the room before you could do or say something that would put you in the spotlight. 

Wanda was left with her children, the food was warm and her stomach grumbled reminding her that she had been angry when waking up. 

“Okay, guys, I need you to tell me why you call America again.” Wanda finally asked, turning to Billy first then to Tommy. 

The twins took their attention away from the TV looking at Wanda. 

“She is cool, Mommy.” Billy said as if that was the best argument in the world. 

“I know she is, Billy, but she probably was asleep at home and she has things to do.” Wanda tried to reason with them, it was not the first time they had done this and Wanda was starting to think this could be bothering you and America at some point. 

“I like America and Y/N.” Tommy said, leaning closer to Wanda. “They make mommy smile.”

Billy nodded in agreement, “mommy, you like them too?”

Wanda flushed at the question, she pressed her lips together and decided to stuff her mouth with pancakes instead of answering that particular question. She let her thoughts run rampant, her body tingling with anticipation for the lunch time to be there already. 

__________________

Laughter filled the room, reverberating deep inside her soul at the sight before her.

Billy and Tommy were on the floor, holding onto their stomachs while laughter erupted from them with a young woman poking at them while a grown adult kept on making noises while the voice on the phone demanded seriousness. Wanda sat on the dark blue chair in the corner, she was closer to the fireplace and the window, the rain falling freely right outside the house. If anyone had asked her a couple of months ago the changes she had experimented in her life, she would have thought them crazy. Wanda had never considered herself strong, or even extraordinary, and quite frankly she never thought she would make it out of Vision’s grasp; when the time came for her to make decisions, it came as a surprised just how strong she really was. How ready she was to start fighting for who she was, and what she wanted.

Leaning back against the cushioned back of the chair, Wanda chuckled at the sight of Billy and Tommy enjoying themselves without a care in the world. Her green eyes flickered briefly from Billy and Tommy to America, the young woman was grinning like mad while putting the mobile away before turning the TV on, her soothing voice and clear wording made it impossible for the twins to ignore her. Wanda had seen the growing affection between her children and their babysitter, how that young woman had come over their lives and help the twins out of their scary shell.

For a moment, Wanda kept her eyes on a single spot between the twins and America. She was fighting over with her thoughts, the fluttering in her heart made her tingled until fluttering butterflies awoke at the pit of her stomach. Without any excuses to keep her eyes away from you, she let her green stare to fall upon your relaxed form on the floor.

You were resting your back against the sofa, one leg on the floor and the other bend slightly towards your chest. Your face was a mask of pure relaxation, there was a soft trace of flush on your cheeks and those eyes were completely soft and warmth as they focused on the children. Not for a single moment had you shown any disgust or exasperation against the twins, you were not even bored after answer a million questions and then telling them stories about yours and America’s younger days. 

Wanda held her hands closer to her chest, her heart twisted inside her chest making her experiment a spark of longing. Wanda longed for this to be her life, and just for that brief moment, Wanda could pretend this was her life. With Billy, Tommy, with America and with…with you.

But just as this thought sneaked inside her mind, she shook it away with panic rising inside her mind. It was impossible! She was not attracted to women, and she most certainly was not attracted to you! She couldn’t! She shouldn’t! And thus, she would bury those emotions and forget all about them. With time, Wanda knew she would realize this was just her way of developing friendships. Right? 

“Woah, earth to Wanda? Earth to Wanda!!” 

You were waving your hand in front of her face, the young woman shook her head blushing profusely with you just a few inches away from her grinning amusedly. Wanda could tell everyone had her attention on her, and she just hoped she had not been staring at you in an obvious way.

“I thought you want to either hit me or kiss me for the way you were looking at me.” You teased shaking your head in triumph when Wanda winced mortified.

“I wanted to hit you…” She stated through gritted teeth, you chuckled leaning back.

“Keep telling yourself that, Princess.” You winked at the young woman, before tilting your head back. 

Billy, Tommy, and America were now seated on the sofa watching a movie, and while the rain was still falling right outside your windows, it was no late than four in the afternoon. 

“I was asking you, if you want to start working on the preparations for the festival.” You lowered your gaze furrowing your brows. “We can use the studio and leave them here watching a movie.”

Still shaken by your early comment, Wanda tried to regain her wits before facing you again.

“Yes, I think we could go and work a little, there are a lot of things I would like to ask you about, and perhaps get to know a little better.” Wanda was about to stand up when you stretched out your hand, offering a support for her to take and stand up.

It took her a moment of hesitation before she came into contact with your hand. It felt warm against hers, and your fingertips were soft under her calloused palm. You offered a half smile, Wanda tried to smile back but it came as a grimace making her wince at her lack of decor to actually return such a simple gesture. Wanda thought you would let go as soon as she had stood up, but instead you took her hand in yours guiding her through the living room down the dinning room to the hall leading a to a single white door.

“My dad built his mancave in the basement.” You started explaining while going down the stairs with Wanda following close behind. “It became the studio for everyone in the house since he was incapable of being alone for far too long. He started bringing my toys and my things as well as some of America’s or even mom’s stuff.”

“This place is huge.” Wanda couldn’t help but admire the room, it had been well-adapted and there was no humidity or coldness sneaking inside the place. 

It had a single desk in the far corner, with a lamp and a laptop. There were a couple of inflatable chairs, a sofa bed, and a couple of futons; on the wall there was a TV and Wanda could see three different gamer consoles with the respective controls. This really had become more than a studio and more like a game room inside the house, and whenever America and her friends were up for a sleepover this was the place they stayed in

You were standing at the bottom of the stairs, scratching the back of your neck waiting for Wanda to say something. The young woman walked around the place, her eyes following the different patterns, the furniture, and then to the pictures decorating one of the walls. In there she could see the pictures of your younger self with your parents, some of you and your friends, and then America and her friends. Wanda softened slightly, her eyes falling into one picture that had a baby America clinging to you, behind the both of you were your parents smiling happily at the picture. For all your bravado, and rudeness, these were the glimpses of the real you that Wanda found endearing; she turned around to see you fidgeting near the stairs, as if you had been waiting her approval. 

There was a single moment in which she found herself looking directly into your eyes. You were trying to hold yourself in a casual manner, trying always to look as compose and in control as you presented yourself most of the time. But right now, you were just nervous and Wanda couldn’t help but think you were looking cute, and apart of her was hoping perhaps, this sudden nervous trait of yours was because of her.

“This is a game room, you know that, right?” Wanda finally exclaimed, her lips curling slightly. “And it looks like the playground of a 15-year-old teen.”

You crunched up your nose lifting your finger, “now look here, this is a pretty decent game room, and it fits the needs of a couple of orphans that wanted to make this a good place to play.”

Wanda chuckled making her way to the laptop, you followed her soon after sitting down on your favourite chair while putting your mobile out. 

“We haven’t changed anything, you know?” You finally revealed, Wanda took a seat right beside you tilting her head with curiosity. “I mean, this is how dad decorated it. Sure, we added some things, and some pictures and games but…dad decorated it himself. He…he was a 15-year-old at heart.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—” Wanda started but you stopped her waving your hand away.

“Oh, no, no, don’t worry, I just…you made me remember that discussion with mom.” You shrugged then. “I think, America and I never thought of changing this one room, the rest of the house has to go through some renewals, but this place…our last movie night was in this room. I think we never thought this place needs changing.”

It was the first time Wanda saw the vulnerability in you, the way your words tinged with sorrow and nostalgia, how your eyes held onto the glistening tears while your lips quirked upwards. You turned to Wanda, and in there she could see a strong woman that had been dealing with more chaos that she let on. Wanda hesitated for a moment before placing her warm hand on top of yours, her own features softening to offer you a single smile.

“It looks incredible, you know? I think that it really suits you and America.” 

You snorted nodding before looking away, “so, let’s get to work then, I have a couple of ideas that may work for this occasion.”

Wanda accepted the sudden change of topic with a short nod, but she didn’t miss the smile playing on your lips or the closeness you two were sharing at the moment. The young woman turned to the laptop to a word document you just opened, ready to start working. 

“So, what shall we do?”

Wanda chuckled with her cheeks warming up, she too turned to the laptop opening her mouth to start sharing the ideas that had been in her mind for a couple of days. Your fingers moving fast on the keyboard, your own ideas being brought upfront until you and her engaged in a conversation you would replay in your mind for days to come.

___________________

Time passed by so quickly, by the time you decided to look at your watch it read 9 p.m.

Rain had stopped a long time ago, and the noise from upstairs came muffled by the close door of the basement. You were laughing at some silly story Wanda had told you about her twin, and the young woman was just grinning at the sight of your own smile. While you had never doubt Wanda was smart, this was the very first time you shared a conversation with the woman; her quick wit, alongside her opinions and her own ideas let her shine with a light of her own. She was not only smart, but also funny and soon you found yourself wanting to continue with the conversation, to not let go of the fuzzy shivering of your heart just as Wanda gestured with her hands, speaking excitedly about the arrangements in the main hall of Stark’s compound.

And while you seemed completely hooked by the woman sitting in front of you, Wanda was not in a better position.

It had been far too long since she allowed herself to get closer to anyone that was not pre-approved by Vision. She had almost forgotten what it was to give her opinion and to actually share her thoughts and her knowledge in a conversation. You were not only smart but funny, and while you and her thought differently on many topics, you were always up for a negotiation and a well-thought argument that Wanda loved to retort only to see your eyebrow twitched, and then the glint of disbelief in your eyes. It had been so long since Wanda allowed herself to be this close to anyone, to actually leaned in just to get closer to another person without breaking the distance to steal a kiss.

Wanda found herself relaxing into the banter, and as the night progressed she found herself longing. What for? She was scared to even go behind the answer to such a question. And still, she hoped for you to just do something and ended with her misery and her uncertainty. Of course, as soon as these thoughts flourish in her mind, another darker one came in, and soon she found the face of Carol Danvers sneaking in just to remind Wanda you were already taken.

Her eyes flickered down to her feet, her heart tugging painfully in her chest. She felt tears pricking at her eyes, while her stomach dropped at the memory of you kissing the blond-haired woman, of that woman holding onto you in the Stark event. 

“Hey, you okay?” Your hand rested tentatively on top of hers, Wanda let her green eyes focused on the hands before she nodded curtly.

“Yes, sorry I just…” She tried to explain herself, the tears just rolling slowly making her felt like an idiot. She was about to speak when your fingertips wipe the tears away.

You were frowning deeply, Wanda found herself lost in your eyes and the honest concern she saw written in them. 

“Wands…” You started but Wanda just shook her head standing up, she put on her best smile stretching her right hand to grab yours.

“Come, I think we need a tea or something, and the kids have been far to silent for my taste…” 

Your frown deepened, but you decided to not make a comment about it. You grabbed Wanda’s hand in yours and soon you were following her close behind, her hand was warm against yours, your heart beating painfully in your chest. The first floor was in complete darkness, the only light coming from the living room that had the TV on, a movie was playing there, and on the sofa were Billy, Tommy and America, all snuggled up covered by a blanket and pillows to make it comfortable.

Wanda stopped on her tracks, her face softening at the sight.

She let go of you, stepping closer to the sofa and brushing Tommy’s hair away. The boy sighed turning slightly to snuggle closer to America, Billy was sprawled on the free space, and America had her hand wrapped protectively around to child’s knee. The whole scene was overwhelming to Wanda, the peace in her children’s face, the fact she could just let go of her worries knowing they were safe, that she was safe…

It was overwhelming.

Wanda never thought she would get to where she was at the moment, she never thought the day she met you that she would allow you to engulf her in a hug letting her sob for a moment. You stood there, making soothing circles on the young woman’s back not really knowing what to say, but making sure Wanda was following into the kitchen.

You sat Wanda down on the chair, turning towards the stove to start heating the water for the tea. The room was in complete silence, Wanda let her hand covered her face for what seemed an eternity until she gathered enough courage to start talking.

“You must think I’m weird, that I’m just this crazy person that doesn’t know how to keep her emotions in check.” Wanda blurted out glancing at the counter while wriggling her hands. “We were just having a good time, and I come and mess it up by crying and acting like an idiot.”

You stopped what you were doing, for a brief moment your back was still turned towards Wanda until you turned around facing the other woman.  Wanda never looked up, but you didn’t need her too, not yet anyway.

“I think you are amazing, Wands.” You leaned back against the sink, your hands resting on the table. “But I guess, your life has not been easy.”

Wanda snorted bitterly, her arms wrapping around herself, she had not forgotten about Billy’s comment early that morning, Wanda knew you had listened to it as if that wasn’t enough, you had also seen the scars in Tommy’s back. You had seen her at her most vulnerable, after the party thrown for the school; Wanda was afraid to look into your eyes and discover disgust in your eyes. She was afraid to actually find in those eyes understanding, and sympathy…

The world around her froze in time, a pair of fingers placed tenderly under her chin. Wanda felt the air on her lungs tangled in her throat, she trembled to her very core when her eyes found yours in a single stare. Whatever she expected to find in your glance, it was certainly not the warmth emotion filled with affection and something she could not name. You smiled at her, your hand brushing lightly on her skin before putting a strand of hair behind her ear.

“We don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to.” Your voice was soft, Wanda shivered shaking her head afraid to break the moment.

“I left my husband a couple of months ago.” She whispered placing her hand on your wrist. “He was not good to me or my children, and I just knew I have to leave before anything bad happen.”

It was not the whole truth, and Wanda felt bad at not being completely honest with you but in reality she was not ready to tell you the full story. How her life and that of the twins had been in danger, that the last time he had hit Wanda she was left to dead and taken to the hospital after Vision realized she could actually die. That he had used a cord from the television to hit Tommy on his back, and then had broken Billy’s arm. That he had threatened to kill the twins and then used Wanda like a breeding stock to keep her by his side.

Wanda was not ready to tell you, of all people, these things. 

You opened your mouth wanting to ask something, anything, but you decided there was nothing else you needed to know. It is not my story to tell. 

Natasha had said to you once, and now that you were looking into Wanda’s face, you realized, it was a story that the other woman needed to be ready to tell. You pressed your lips together, taking your hand away while stepping back a little.

“I’m sorry, Wanda.” You said the first thing that came to mind. 

Wanda broke into a bitter smile, her mirthless laughter sending shivers down your back.

“People don’t usually know what to say when I tell the story, so it’s fine.” Wanda shrugged turning her back to you. “I’m still getting use to…everything, that’s why I’ve been going to Doctor Hope, and why I ended up here.”

You didn’t need to ask anything else, it was not secret that Natasha was part of a secret group that helped people victims of violence. You had even contributed at some point with money and contacts, but it had never been your forte, your stepmother was the one involved with the group. Knowing that Wanda ended up at your doorstep because of this, because she was running and hiding stirred something deep inside your heart.

You felt the need to protect her and the twins.

“I guess it doesn’t help that I’m an asshole to you most of the time, eh?”

Your commented caught her off guard, and soon Wanda was actually laughing. You joined her sitting on the counter while leaning against your hand. Wanda put her hair away shrugging.

“You were the only one actually being you around me.” She replied. “So, I kind of appreciated you being an asshole, it helped me focus my anger against someone different than me.”

You snorted, bowing mockingly at her.

“I’m always glad to be of service, Princess.” Then, in a moment of inspiration you winked at her and added. “I can always be of some use, and continue being an ass to you, so you have someone to fight with.”

Wanda shook her head, this time around her face transformed into an expression you were far too afraid to decipher. Her eyes gleamed, and her lips broke into an easy smile.

“Even though your proposal is very tempting, I think I like you more now.” Wanda opened her eyes really big she waved her hands stuttering with a full blush on her face; you arched your brows looking at her amusedly.

“Oh, you like me now? Really?” You teased, and she stood up rather fast stepping back making her way to the kettle. 

“Oh, shut it, you know what I mean.” She tumbled over her words, with her back to you to hide away her embarrassment.

“Yes, you mean you like me, woah, Princess I didn’t know you swing that way…” Your laughter died off when the dishcloth she was using hit you in the face. “Hey!”

Wanda rolled her eyes trying to control her flustered cheeks, she mocked glare at you before spreading her arms rather exasperated.

“Can you help me with the tea, please?” She huffed when you chuckled jumping to the floor.

“Sure, Princess, anything you want.” You said winking at her, “after all, this is why you like me…”

“God, you’re impossible.” She mumbled trying to ignore her beating heart, or the grin threatening to break upon her lips.

You chuckled grinning smugly at her, nothing much was said about the topic, you didn’t press for more information and Wanda was just glad to share her story at her own pace. The silence that followed your teasing was one of pure familiarity, with you working alongside Wanda while making sure the tea was served with honey and milk. 

“Have you ever been to Kamar Taj?” Your question came out of the blue, Wanda made a face blinking a couple of times while shrugging.

“Not really…” She answered tentatively not really knowing where this question came from.

“Well, let me show you…” You fumbled with your mobile, the tip of your tongue poking through your lips as you search for the images. “And, let me tell you the story of how America and I got therapy after our parents accident.”

Wanda found herself admiring you from afar, your words held just a tinge of sadness in them, but your eyes gleamed with peace and affection as you located the pictures and started showing them to Wanda. You opened up to her, telling Wanda about Stephen and Cristine, about Tony and Pepper, and how everyone came together for you and your sister.  You were talking excitedly, your hands expanding the sights you had seen in Asia, but Wanda’s eyes had never left your face, or your expressions…She had never stopped looking at you, and if you had been paying attention, you would have noticed the deep affection gleaming in those green eyes.

__________________________________

Monday morning came with more troubles than solutions.

You hit your head on the desk, your assistant huffing in disapproval while she continued with your schedule for the rest of the morning and the afternoon. You had just come to the office after an accident in the production floor, some of the computers had malfunction, and half of the operation had stopped until IT and the facilities team to fix everything up.

The only thing holding you up, was the memory of your weekend. 

Saturday ended with Wanda staying at your home, the twins were fast asleep and it would have been rather dangerous to just carry them in the middle of a cold night to their house. They were warm, and the chilly night could make them sick, or so you reasoned with Wanda; you won the argument, and she slept with the twins on the basement, while America kept on shooting you knowing glances you didn’t even bother to acknowledge.

Then, Sunday came in and Wanda decided to repay your generosity with breakfast. 

Everything had been too damn domestic, and you had woken up on Monday morning panicking. What the hell were you doing? What were you thinking? Wanda was straight as an arrow! She had children! She was married! Sure, her husband was an asshole and no longer in the picture but she was way beyond your league!

She probably didn’t even like women or was curious about being with one! She was probably…

“Really, Y/N, if you’re not going to pay attention to me I’m not going to be here to pass you notes or messages to know what you’re supposed to be talking about.” Maria Hill crossed her arms glaring at you with such intensity you sometimes doubt who was the boss in here.

“Sorry, Maria, I’m…I’m just distracted.”

“No shit, boss.” Maria sighed stepping forward before sitting down. “Spill, I cannot do my job and you certainly can’t do yours if you keep this up, what happened?”

You sighed leaning back on your chair while glancing at the ceiling, you had been an emotional mess all weekend but it only worsened as soon as you woke up that morning and you realized you missed Wanda. Which was completely ridiculous since you had just spent the weekend with her, and it wasn’t even that extraordinary! You both had worked on the preparations for the festival, you had just spent the weekend with a friend and her children. Nothing more.

“I just had the strangest weekend ever.” You mumbled knowing Maria had her brown eyes fixed on you, more than an assistant, Maria had become in your confident whenever you felt the world on your shoulders.

It was a relief, and the woman always had the right words and the right advice for you. She was a good person, and her willingness to usually put up with you was enough to make you trust in her.

“Strangest…how?” She inquired placing her tablet on the table.

You chuckled crowing your hands on your abdomen, tilting your head you locked eyes with her.

“My neighbour, America’s teacher, we…Natasha selected us to organise the Winter Festival for the school,” you shrugged looking away, you missed the flash of recognition in Maria’s stare. “She came home and we just…I don’t know, we just talk and kinda bond…you know?”

Maria cocked a brow not missing for one second your wishful stare, or the inflections on your voice. She had heard from Natasha the strange hate/friendship relationship you had developed with your neighbour. But this was the first time she saw it in action; now Maria understood why Natasha had decided to meddle in it.

“And you bond…physically?” She asked half amused and half exasperated at your reaction.

You jumped startled, your cheeks burning red just as you started stuttering an answer.

“N-no! Of course not!” You shook your head standing up and passing left and right, “I was just…we were just…it was a friendly bond! You know? We talked about ourselves, and our lives and shit like that.”

“Charming.” Maria rolled her eyes once more, she then grabbed her tablet again clearing her throat. “Look, Y/N, I think that you have to wonder why this non-physical bonding with a neighbour you found infuriating is affecting you so much.”

You stopped your passing turning to the window, the sight before you were that of a busy city filled with people coming in and out of the streets. You could feel Maria’s eyes on you, she was waiting for your answer and you knew you needed to concentrate on the oncoming meetings; besides, she was right. Why were you so worked up about the weekend? Why were you so affected?

“I just…I’m not sure.” You dropped your shoulders turning slightly. “What else do I have for today?”

Maria pressed her lips together, she was very tempted to pressing the matter and get more answers out of you. But she had been by your side long enough to know, it would be pointless you were far too confused to actually get into a serious talk. By the time you turned to face her, Maria knew you were in full business mode and whatever had been distracting you was pushed deep inside your mind, avoiding your emotions was something you were very adept at. 

“You have lunch with Carol Danvers.” Maria smirked at your reaction; you winced placing a hand at the nape of your neck. “She actually made it official; we still had some contracting with the government and since she is the new liaison for Camp Davis you couldn’t say no.”

You nodded curtly, knowing the meeting was Carol’s way to get your attention on a topic you had been avoiding for more than a week. When did you relationship with Carol changed so much? Why did it change so much?

“And then, after that you have a business meeting with Edwin Jarvis, you know? The CEO from Vision Enterprise.” Maria furrowed her brows putting up some files. “He is looking to get some investment in AI technology and has some interesting ideas.”

You nodded absentmindedly, your mind still on Carol and Wanda.

“I think I’ve heard of him, Tony mentioned him at some point.” Maria clicked her tongue and this time around you did pay attention to her. “What is it?”

“This individual, he is also being investigated.” She replied softly, your eyes open slightly taking a seat on your chair you leaned forward.

“Go on, what is it? Should I cancel the meeting?” 

Maria pursed her lips before shaking her head.

“He is being investigate for some fraud and industrial espionage.” Maria put the file in front of you, you turned to your screen reading the file she just sent to you. “It seems this is an ongoing matter, but there is also a sealed file about his wife and his children.”

“He sounds like the kind of individual I don’t want to be relate to, Maria.” You pursed your lips reading over the investigation for tax evasion and industrial espionage, the one on his wife and children was left blank and had a seal from the federal government on top of it.

“I know; however, Tony wants you to meet with him.” 

This time around you couldn’t hide your surprised, you cocked your head to the side and then your eyes opened wide in understanding.

“Very well, what do I have to do?”

“I’m so glad that you always catch up once you have your mind out of the gutter.” Maria smirked leaning in while ignoring your sputtering protests.

_______________

The restaurant was packed.

Carol had chosen the restaurant right around the corner of your building, it was an old place filled with golden lights, and white tables with a darkened interior and sweet classical music dancing around the place. It was the home for old and new members of society, and it was the preferred place for the high ranking officers of the military when they wanted to make a good deal.

Your eyes swept the interior trying to locate the woman that was waiting for you, Carol waved at you from the far corner of the restaurant the table for two located it near the window right beside a beautiful fountain made of coloured water. The young woman wore her uniform, the signs that she had been in a formal meeting moments before meeting with you.

“Hey.” You greeted leaning in to place a kiss on her cheek, Carol smiled sweetly at you indicating the chair while calling over the waitress.

“Hey, thank you for coming.” She stated lowering her gaze for a moment before facing you again, you winced grabbing the menu and asking for something light and some water before focusing your attention on Carol.

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

“You had been avoiding me.” Carol didn’t beat around the bush, she grabbed her glass of water and took a long sip with her eyes pinning you to your spot.

You shifted your weight leaning forward, your mouth opened ready to deny her words but unable to do so. In reality, she was right, you had been avoiding her; ever since she proposed to you the trip to Eastern Europe you knew the relationship should stop but you didn’t dare to do so, and this inability to get your relationship clear with Carol had been the downfall of you affair with her.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.” You replied lamely, Carol sighed dropping her face her voice marked with the vulnerability she felt at the moment.

“I think you know I’m in love with you.” Carol took a deep breath, her lips trembling as she spoke. “I’ve been trying so hard to make you fall for me, I…I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to this relationship, but I always thought…I really want you to come with me, Y/N, let me…let me be the one for you, just as you have become the one for me.”

The room filled with heavy air, and deafening silence.

Your heart shrank at her confession, and your hand stirred at your side wanting to reach out and grab Carol’s hand. The blond-haired woman offered a single smile, but it was quite evident to you that tears were threatening to leave her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled passing your hand through your hair. “I was not fair to you, Carol.”

Carol snorted looking out of the window, the waitress chose that moment to bring the food and, as soon as he was gone you continued.

“I do love you, you know? I never thought of this to be jus an affair, and I…” You trailed off not knowing how to explain to Carol that you tired, you really did.

She had always been special, a friend that you could always turn to whenever things went bad or good, she had been there for you when your parents died and when Shuri broke your heart. At first you hadn’t understood why she was so unconditional until, one day while you were hating on yourself and the world she kissed you and the affair was born. It was supposed to be with not attachments, and yet Carol couldn’t help herself once she got to see a side of you she had never seen before. You wished it had been the same for you, but you always thought this relationship was nothing more than two good friends helping one another.

You had been unfair. And Carol didn’t deserve it.

“I wished I had fallen in love with you, Carol. I really do.” You finally confessed, this time around you did stretch your hand and grabbed hers in yours.

Carol lowered her stare to your hand, tempted to just pull away but giving into the comforting touch. She swallowed down her tears, her lips breaking into a bittersweet smile.

“I thought this meeting would be different, you know?” Carol let out a breath, pressing her lips tightly. “I thought perhaps…”

You lifted her hand, leaning in placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. 

“I’m still here, you know?”

Carol nodded hesitating before speaking, “so, will you go with me? Will you…give us a chance?”

You dropped your eyes, your mouth opened then close again.

“Would you stay? Would you try to give me a chance?” You asked back, and just for that brief moment Carol was tempted to say ‘yes’, but the truth was she could not stay.

Carol had worked from an early age on her dream to be part of the Airforce, to get on top of her game and surpass that boy’s club that had dominated the Airforce for far too long. She and Maria had been working hard on this, and when she was offered the position, Carol knew what she had to do. Her love for you was there, and you had been the only one that made her doubt her career choices; Carol had been ready to say no, until she talked to Maria again and was faced with her dream and her goals.

I know you love her, Carol, but are you ready to leave your dreams behind for someone, anyone? Are sure this won’t come back later on as a reproach for missed chances?

“I’ve been waiting so long for this.” Carol mumbled; you smiled nodding.

“I know, and you don’t know how proud I am. You deserve this, Carol, and you will always count with me to be there for you.” You hesitated before standing up and putting your chair closer to the blond-haired woman, Carol opened her eyes letting out a chuckled when you finally put your chair closer to her.

“What are you doing?” Carol laughed when you fixed everything so you would be closer to her, without letting go of the hand you had been holding for comfort.

“Just moving closer to you, you have always been my friend, Carol, regardless of what happened I do love you, and you are my friend, I hope you know that.”

Carol melted under your words, she returned her attention to her food before speaking again. 

“You are my friend as well, Y/N.” Carol looked back at you, “and that’s why I have to ask, are you…do you…what’s going on with Wanda, Y/N?”

“What? Why?” You leaned back, eyes opening at the sudden question. 

Carol rolled her eyes, this time around she did look rather upset.

“Well, it is quite obvious something is happening, I’m mean the last couple of times you couldn’t stop talking about her, and then when we met at the supermarket you were…weird.”

You sputtered shaking your head looking away from Carol, “no, no, nothing, I just…she is…she is the mother of the children America babysits for, nothing else.”

Carol didn’t seem convince by your words, she took a sip from her water pursing her lips.

“Are you sure? I mean you look…” Carol could see this topic was not something you were ready for, you squirmed on your chair emptying the glass of water while playing with your food. “Y/N…”

“Nothing, there is nothing, she is just a neighbour… nothing else.”

The conversation changed afterwards.

For Carol it was quite evident you didn’t want to talk about the topic, and if she was going to be honest, she didn’t want to know. Those two different times she had seen you interact with the redhead; she had seen a glint in your eyes Carol was not familiar with; it was a glance she yearned to obtain from you, but it seemed to just be for a single individual. You hadn’t even look Shuri in such a way, and this was what made Carol hesitated about the situation.  

But the time lunch was over, you and Carol had found peace in the conversation. You two found a common topic, and soon business was on the table while she asked for your opinion on the subjects that would soon dominate her life, while you asked about the oncoming meetings.

“I will miss you.” Carol said hugging you tightly, you hugged her back smiling softly while enjoying the woman in your arms.

“I’m going to miss you too, Carol.” She stepped back, but she was still close enough you could feel her warm breath on your face. “Carol…”

Your words were cut off by a pair of lips against yours, the kiss was slow tentative touch of the lips teasing you. Carol was flustered once she stepped back, she offered a smile that you returned with a shake of your head.

“Just a good-bye kiss.” She winked at you turning around and walking towards the parking lot. 

You watched her leave, a heavy heart inside your chest wondering if you made the right decision by letting go of a woman that had shown you so much love in the last couple of months. You put your hands in your pockets turning round to walk towards your building, you couldn’t keep her by your side waiting to fall in love with her, that wouldn’t be fair with her, or with you.

With a last glance to the sidewalk, you stepped back and went back to your office, a weight you didn’t know you were carrying on your back finally lifting up and leaving you lighter and open to the world of possibilities you had been trying to bury deep inside your mind, a world of possibilities that had a name of its own: Wanda Maximoff.

________________

“Oh, I didn’t know you were a woman.” The man smiled charmingly at you, his hand stretched out while he glanced around the room as if waiting for someone else to come forth into the meeting. “Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to see you are a beautiful woman, but for some reason I have always thought of Y/L/N instead of your first name.”

You forced a smile at the absurdity of his comment, he merely laughed and went to take a seat to the left side of the table. You crossed stares with Maria who shot you a cold glare as a warning to keep your cool and not to do or say anything incorrectly. 

“Right, I bet it is a common mistake.” You sat down as well leaning back on your chair while pointing with your hand the file on the table. “I’m glad I get to know you as well, Mr. Jarvis, I’ve been reading to your proposal and me and my team had a counteroffer for you.”

“Oh, a counteroffer?” Jarvis grabbed the file in his hands, he started reading while ignoring the rest of the room.

You had chosen the conference room of tenth floor for the meeting, the place was packed with only a couple of offices and some storage rooms that were the home of the material used on the production floor and the operations room. It was the most neutral ground you could find, more so after finding out how the man operated. The room was almost empty, no decorations on the walls, with a single window that was left facing the city. You let your eyes wandered to Maria who was sitting at the other end of the table, her hands busy with her tablet and her phone while she too made sure to watch the man closely.

“Everything seems to be in order but, I don’t get it.” He stated pointing to a section in the contract. “It says in here that you would only provide with money if I worked here, is that correct?”

“Yes, I prefer this kind of deals to be in a controlled environment.” You shrugged putting your hands together. “Our contracts go directly under the government, and we cannot risk losing any data because of unknown facilities.”

“My business is very secure, Mrs. Y/L/N.” Jarvis straightened up hardening his stare. 

“I don’t have any doubts about that, but you have to understand this is part of the non-negotiables, this is the most secure red in the world and what you intended to do will require such facilities to prevent espionage. I think this is a pretty sweet deal for the both of us.”

Jarvis clenched her jaw close, his cheek burning up with embarrassment at being played at like a child. His eyes drifted to the contract, not only was he being ordered to work in some unknown facilities, he would also be made to sign a non-disclosure clausule and the rights for his technology. 

“You are asking for far too much, Mrs. Y/L/N, and I'm afraid I'm not seeing the benefits such a deal will bring to me.” Jarvis leaned forward placing his arm on the table, his hand playing with the pen. “You are not the only company interested in buying this idea, and I have to say their proposals are more seductive…”

“And yet, here you are.” You leaned back against your chair, your eyes examining the man sitting in front of you.

Maria had done a good research of him, a married man he started his business thanks to a small inheritance on his father's part and then to the money left by his father in law. He had built a solid company in the industry of technology and entertainment, nothing too extravagant but enough to make him a notorious and well-adjusted member of society in Westview and Jersey. He had tried to jump into major leagues with a risky inversion that ended up with him almost in bankruptcy. Then, all of a sudden, his business got better and now he was someone selling away his ideas to the best buyer. It was then the investigation started leading Homeland and some federal authorities to be not only after him but also after some red of business people that had dedicated their lives to steal ideas of millions of dollars from others. 

You knew you were not risking much in this deal, and quite honestly you would be more than happy if the man decided to go after another buyer, but right now your company was being targeted mainly because you were the number one in the business. Maria had assured you he would bite the bait, people thought your company while one of the most powerful in the world had lost its edge after your dad's death. They were looking for the weakest link to just get their hands in a portion of the business you dealt with. No one could imagine you had been dealing with one crisis after another with an iron fist and good advisors. 

Jarvis seemed to think that this was the opportunity he had been waiting for, he didn't seem to like the fact it was you the one he had to deal with. When he first acceded to this he was told he would deal with the old man in charge of Alchemax. He never thought he would need to deal with a young woman, but he could always start the deal before charming his way into her pants and getting something good out of this. 

“You are right, here I am.” His whole demanour changed in a second, he opened up his arms, tilting his head he sent a flirty smile your way with his eyes twinkling at you. “I never thought I will be bested at negotiations by such a beautiful and young woman such as yourself, Mrs. Y/L/N, but I can tell you I feel confident of the business we are making today.”

Jarvis grabbed the pen signing the contract with a flourish, you smiled back lifting a single eyebrow to the man who was now trying to be charming and flirty towards you. 

“This is the beginning of a great relationship between Alchemax and Vision Enterprise.” You replied standing up while offering your hand to the older man, he stood up as well taking your hand in his and placing a kiss on your knuckles. 

You never left the smile off of your face, Jarvis stood dangerously close to you towering above you while pressing you back. Maria was about to stand up but a single gesture from you stopped her. You lifted your head, your eyes going from those eyes to his lips and the smirk in the man's face was all you needed to know at the moment. 

“I recognize when I have been bested by someone as beautiful as yourself, what o you say if we go out for dinner and celebrate this new deal?” Jarvis let his thumb brushed the skin of your backhand, he winked at you before continuing. “I know just the place you may like, and perhaps…Who knows? This could be the beginning of something else.”

You giggled, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, the man holding back the victorious smile that was threatening to break on his lips. 

“Something like what, Mr. Jarvis?” You asked, lowering your voice, Jarvis this time around straightened up. 

“Something more pleasurable for the both of us…”

“Oh, but what about your wife and your children? Are they coming as well, Mr. Jarvis?”

Up until that moment, Jarvis had all but forgotten about Maria sitting at the far end of the table. His shoulders put back, the tension around his eyes heightening the wrinkles in his face, his eyes lost all flirtatious glint while he glared at the other woman. The subject of her wife was a sore one for him, and while he knew these people didn't know the truth it still made his blood boil whenever that fucking bitch was mentioned. 

The embarrassment she had made him experiment was something he would never forgive her for, and he had most of his resources dedicated to find Wanda and the twins and make sure they were brought to him before he made sure they would never leave his side. 

“Wife and children?” You clicked your tongue stepping back while taking the contract in your hands. “I would love to take your offer, Mr. Jarvis, but I do not mess with married men and, most importantly, with business partners. The facilities are ready for you and your team, and the security access has been approved, so you are free to start tomorrow if you want.”

“Now, wait a moment,” Jarvis stepped in trying to salvage the situation, his face once more red with embarrassment. “My wife and children are away with their grandmother, and I just wanted to make it clear my marriage is more a formality to a poor woman who thought getting pregnant would trap me into her delusions of love…”

You turned to the man, your face à mask of disbelief that soon changed into a blank stare. Jarvis smiled weakly at you, lowering his gaze while putting a hand on his pocket. 

“I stayed for the children.”

You were not asking for explanations, but the fact this man was ready to give them told you what type of person he was. Maria had made her way to where you were standing her brows out together while ignoring the heated glare Jarvis sent her way. 

“Please, Mr. Jarvis, no need to explain yourself.” You replied, shaking your head offering the same innocent and shy smile you had presented him a moment ago. “it is not my business, but either way, I will ask for a rain check since I already had a commitment this afternoon and was not able to accept your invitation.”

Jarvis sighed in relief putting on his charming smile once more. If he got to score something with you, perhaps he wouldn't need Wanda or the brats to get money out of them.

“Then, let me see what can be arranged for you and I to celebrate at a later date.”

“It's a date, now if you excuse me I have a meeting with the board in five minutes.”

You dropped your smile once the lift doors closed in front of you. 

“God, I will need a fucking shower after this.” You shivered in disgust, Mary snorted writing something on her tablet. 

“At least Fury is going to be happy.” She replied, shrugging. “It's a win-win situation.”

“Next time we're going to let him kiss your hand and try that creepy smile with you, okay?” You retorted crossing your arms. “The nerve of the man! To think I am straight at all!”

Maria laughed at your comment, she held onto her abdomen shaking her head before leaning back against the walls of the lift. You smiled at her lifting a single accusing finger to her. 

“Next time, I would let everyone think you are straight and that Natasha is just a really good friend.” That silenced Maria who blushed profusely, turning away from you. 

“That's not funny.” She grumbled. 

“Oh, it is if you remember how you and Natasha came to be a couple.” 

Maria winced trying to bury the memories in her mind, it wasn't so much she didn't treasure the moment she and Natasha found one another. It was just that it was also the most embarrassing time in her life and remembering That moment made her cringe from time to time. 

“Anyway, I found the man disgusting, and I considered his wife.” You commented lightly. “He really is quite the character, you could find something else about his family?”

“No, it is a closed file, so I will need special clearance to see it.” Maria waited for a moment but you shook your head. 

“No, it doesn't matter anyway, Fury is after the man for tax evasion and espionage. We don't even know what really happened with his wife.” 

“Very well.” Maria exited the lift after you, afternoon was already falling and the lights of yellow and orange decorated the sky giving way to the darkness of the night. “Miguel just finished putting the security measures on the red we gave them, and everyone is already aware of what to do.”

“Good then, let's get this one last meeting over so I can go home to my sister…”

“... And your neighbour.” Maria smirked mischievously at you, her amusement growing when your feet falter at the mention of Wanda. “Are you going to tell her you and Carol are no longer together?”. 

“Why would I do that?” You replied sharply trying to hide the blush on your face. 

“Oh you know? Because you two are friends and there may be a possibility she wants to jump your bones?”

“God you and Natasha are going to be the death of me someday!”

Maria laughed following you inside the main hall towards the conference room. Maria found it amusing how Natasha picked up on this kind of things, now that she and Hope had talked about the topic and that Maria had seen your reactions and the way you talked about Wanda she had to agree that there was something there. Whatever it was, it brought a silly smile to your lips, it made you more relax and open. Maria was certaines you were not ready to admit these changes, or even the implications of your emotions, but there was time and perhaps these moments you were sharing with Maximoff while planning the Winter Festival were the push you needed. 

There was only one thing that was worrying Maria and that was  the truth behind Jarvis and Wanda. She hated lying to you, and even more so when someone as important as Wanda was for you was involved. But Natasha had assured her this was the best way to trap the man, and to make sure Wanda and her children were protected while Jarvis faced justice for a long time. 

Y/N cannot know anything, Maria, please, she is already involved with Wanda as it is and knowing this could make her act harshly and we need to do this with care to trap the bastard. 

“Anyway, I don't even think she… Likes me that way,” there is a hint of regret in your tone, your hand hovering above the knob of the door, you licked your lips frowning deeply before turning to Maria. “Not that it matters at all or anything just… WeWe're good friends, you know? And she is straight as an arrow… So,yeah…”

There was a moment of silence, Maria narrowed her eyes at you but you put on your best smile before opening the door and entering the conference room, whatever you were thinking or even experimenting at the moment completely forgotten as you took the reins of the meeting. Maria storing away this moment, she knew she would need to have a serious talk with Natasha once she got home.

------------------------------------------------------

Next chapter: Reader and Wanda are trying to deny what had become evident to everyone, Riri played her cards well and America is at a crossroads. The twins are getting far too comfortable, and the Winter Festival preparations create a tension between you and Wanda that you didn't dare to break.

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - Epilogue

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 13.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* Pregnancy. Some healing of generational trauma, reconciliation, regret, past pain. But mostly fluff. Summary: In the time after returning to your original timeline, life seems to have many more surprises left for you and Max. Notes: Editing this chapter has been a good old fashioned cry at my laptop, I will admit that entirely. This little family has given us such a wild ride, and we are so grateful to each one of you for reading along for every twist and turn. Please join us for Hummingbird Has Landed, starting next week!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Ch 16 ~ Ch 17

Six months fly by in the blink of an eye, and before you know it the day of the wedding has arrived. Seacliff has been thrown open for the occasion, decorated top to bottom in roses accented with spring wildflowers and with every curtain thrown open to let the sunlight in. At the end of your second trimester, you tend to get tired earlier in the night so you and Max had opted for an afternoon wedding with sort of an high tea theme for the food. The music is all perfect for dancing to, of course, and everyone from the dance studios you now frequent to the girls from the coven to your extended vampiric family has been invited. He’s even made a few friends at the firm where he now works, opting to go into real estate this time around. After spending a hundred years building different houses, he knows a thing or two about it.

Allison and Eddie will be the ones to stand up for you today, of course, as Allison learns each day a little bit more of what it means to be a vampire who has kept her humanity through every step of the change. You and Max had stood up with them at City Hall a few months ago and helped throw their more laid-back wedding reception at Chateau-sur-Mer. Now everything is set up for today’s success as well. All that’s left, really, is for Max’s surprise to arrive.

Max hovers, a habit that he’s developed even more as your stomach has grown. In love with the slow heartbeat of his child in your stomach and the sweet smell of your blood. He craves you more than you know, but he’s refused to drink from you since finding out that you are carrying his child. Not willing to risk anything, even after decades of taking your blood.

“Everything’s fine, love.” He’s always been a doting partner but for the last few months it’s increased exponentially and somehow you’re even more in love with him for it. “We’ve had weddings before. Everything will be just fine.”

“I know.” He does know that, but for some reason, this is the one that is making him nervous. “I’m excited.” He admits quietly. “This one is us. Our original timeline.” He pushes away the pang of sadness that seems to be creeping up every time the baby moves, or he thinks about being a father. The loss of his family is more poignant in this time because there’s no good reason they are not here.

“That’s why this one is exactly what we wanted. Good music, good food, not too fancy but not too casual.” You reach out and squeeze his hand, rubbing gently along his arm. “It’s the Goldilocks of weddings.”

“Are you comfortable?” He asks, shaking away his disappointment that parents who don’t care about him aren’t sitting on the groom’s side and focuses on you. “You should sit before the ceremony.” After so many years together and so many weddings, it seems ridiculous to observe the ‘no seeing the bride before the ceremony’ tradition. “The baby was really active last night; I know your sleep wasn’t the best.”

“The baby’s excited.” Over your second trimester you’ve started to get the feeling that your little witch-vampire pup can sense your emotions, and he knows you’re excited for today. “And Tracy brewed me a little potion for today. Energy without caffeine so I won’t get too tired and I can enjoy the day.”

He eyes you, but he doesn’t say anything. Always wary about portions because he’s paranoid, not because he doesn’t trust the witches that make up your very supportive coven. “Do you want a little massage before we start?” He offers, knowing how much you enjoy the back and foot massages he’s gotten pretty good at.

“It’s perfectly safe,” you assure him, but you’re already sitting back in your favourite chair with bare feet ready for rubbing. This is not going to be a day for silk stockings or anything delicate like that. “It’s one of Lina’s recipes. Tracy is having fun going through her grimoire.”

Max chuckles at how quickly you move when you are offered a massage. It’s cute how much you enjoy being pampered and he loves to remind you that you are the absolute love of his life. “Honestly? I trust them. I’m just worrying to worry.” He tells you as he sits down on the little foot stool. “Have I told you how fucking gorgeous you are today?”

"Hmmm, only once." Max starts in on your swollen, achy feet right away and you hum happily, sinking back into your chair and letting your hands cradle the large bump that threatens to take over your entire torso. Max Phillips makes big babies, apparently. "The grey suit is one of my favourites, by the way," you hum, referencing the three-piece heather grey suit he chose for today with dark red accents that match your bouquet of roses and Allison's red bridesmaid dress. "You look like a dream."

“Not nearly as dreamy as my pregnant, gorgeous, glowing wife-to-be.” He teases, winking at you. Since the beginning of the week, he’s called you his fiancée or wife-to-be. The new ring on your finger would never replace the original that has so much meaning for the both of you, but he has always given you new rings for every wedding. “But I have to try to look my best when I will be by your side.”

"I hope you don't mind." Holding up your other hand, you show him the original engagement ring he gave you in 1885 sitting on your finger, like a family heirloom accenting the beautiful sapphire ring he chose for you in this timeline. Your something blue, he had told you with a grin. "I felt like this time was the time to wear both."

“Whatever you want.” He promises with a grin. “Eventually we will have enough rings you can wear a different one every day.”

"I'll have a very full jewelry box for our son to pick from when he eventually proposes to his soulmate." Finding out you're carrying a little boy had had both of you crying in the doctor's office, overwhelmed and emotional about the next generation of your family to come.

“Very true.” He presses his thumb to the arch of your foot and he grins when you groan.

"I'm so glad I decided not to wear heels today," you huff, laughing slightly as your head falls back on your chair.

“Me too.” Max snorts. The sparkly white shoes you have chosen are cute and practical. “Although I still like the barefoot and pregnant wedding idea.” He teases with a wink.

"Maybe next time." That draws a deep laugh from you, and you lean back even more. "We'll have that one in summer, when being barefoot doesn't mean stepping on cold floors."

“Next time.” He agrees, although he doesn’t know if there would be a next time. All that matters is your comfort. “We still have an hour and a half before the ceremony.” He chuckles. “Maybe we’ve become too efficient at getting ready for these things.”

"Probably. Sixth time's the charm, I guess." You both laugh, enjoying the quiet and the comfort of being together upstairs in your bedroom. The Taylors, Renee, and Mr. Finchley were all invited to come today as guests but they had balked at the idea of not helping to put together today's event. As a result you've had twice the staff in getting the house ready today and everything is ready ahead of schedule. "Although..." you glance up at the clock and realize it's almost time. "I did plan a sort of...surprise for you today."

“Sweetheart…” he tilts his head and pouts at you adorably. “I thought we said that we were going to keep it low key?” He huffs. “Now my surprise is just going to be a normal wedding gift exchange.”

"I know what we said, and your wedding present is entirely separate." The photo album isn't technically complete anyway, since it has photographs of your first five wedding days already set in it but has left plenty of room for your sixth. "This is just for you."

“Is it something kinky?” He asks with a wicked grin on his face. “I can get behind that. Unless you want to get behind me???” He jokes.

"Not until this little pup comes out to greet us," you laugh, knowing your maneuverability isn't great these days.

“I don’t know, you were pretty kinky last night.” He reminds you. “Or was that someone else that wanted to ride my cock while I gave her tits all the attention?”

"Oh no, that was the horny pregnant woman you're marrying today." And damn last night was a good night.

“I know, and I love her.” He laughs and looks around. “So tell me about this surprise?”

As if on cue, there is a knock at your bedroom door and your own housekeeper clears her throat gently on the other side. "Mrs. Phillips? It's time."

"Thank you, Mrs. Moreau. We'll be down directly." Thankfully your shoes are nearby, and you flash Max a small smile. "Ready, love?" You ask, knowing that he has no idea what's waiting for him downstairs.

“Sure.” He shoots you a suspicious look but quickly applies himself to putting your shoes on. “You’re lucky you don’t have stinky feet.” He teases and pats your knee when he puts your foot down, both of them now wearing comfortable shoes.

The result of about three months' worth of phone calls is waiting downstairs, and you take Max's hand to walk downstairs together. There's a chance he'll be upset with you. Angry, even. But you've known him for long enough now that you don't think he will be – or at least you hope that he will see the gesture for what it is. A loving attempt at bringing him the happiness that you know he's been missing from his life.

He’s curious when he sees that the formal parlor is where you are guiding him. Wondering what you’ve had delivered and he stops dead when he hears a voice he has not heard for a lifetime. He wouldn’t recognize it for the fact that it was permanently attached to a thousand different childhood memories.

"I reached out about three months ago," you explain, feeling him stop dead beside you in the hall. "I told them that we were getting married and that we're expecting, and honey...they miss you so much."

“They— you called them?” He asked dumbly. “That’s— that’s my parents in there?” He asks, feeling like he’s in a dream even though he’s not dreamed since he’s been changed.

"I'll let them tell you everything." He isn't shouting or refusing to see them, so you're taking his quiet wonder as a very good sign. "But...I obviously left out the whole time travel, magic, and vampirism part of our story. I did tell them we're Wiccan, though. So they wouldn't be confused by the handfasting today."

He nods but he doesn’t say anything. Still process the fact that his parents are beyond those doors. People who had abandoned him when he needed them most. Part of him wants to run away, to refuse to see them, but you are squeezing his hand and looking so hopeful when he finally looks at you.

“If you don’t want to, it’s okay.” They’ll be disappointed, and so will you a little, but you’ll all understand. “I just knew that if I asked you about having them over, you would refuse on principle.”

“No.” He chokes out, shaking his head and for a horrible moment, he thinks he might cry. “I just can’t believe they came.”

“Well…” When you look up at him again, you offer him the softest, gentlest smile possible. “They wanted to apologize in person.”

“What did you say to them?” He asks, unable to believe the people who had disowned him, told him they never wanted to see him again, want to apologize.

“I actually did very little of the talking.” You nod to the door and squeeze his hand again, ready with a handkerchief if he ends up needing it. “Do you want to go in?”

“Um, sure.” With his free hand, he meticulously straightens his vest and his hair before he moves. He’s nervous and honestly a little afraid his parents want to ruin today for him.

When the door opens there are two people standing by the windows, looking down the lawn where your wedding ceremony will be and out to the sparkling ocean. Jeff and Maria Phillips stand together in a moment of awe before Maria is rushing forward and stops still in front of Max with one arm outstretched. “Max.” Her instinct is to call him honey, but she doesn’t know just how much he would hate that. “You—we tried everything we could think of to find you and we’re—” She chokes up almost instantly, The regret painted on her face as obviously as daylight.

“We’re so sorry, son.” Jeff has come up behind his wife and put his hands on her shoulders. “We should have taken you at your word when everything happened and we didn’t. That’s—we can’t undo it, Max. But we’ve regretted it every day.”

“Why?” That is the question that plagued him for years. The thing that had broken his heart and confused him. His parents weren’t the warmest people, but he had thought they had loved him enough to believe him. “You told me I was a disgrace to the Phillips name, that you wished I had never been born.” He reminds them. “Why?” His hand lets go of yours and rests on your stomach protectively. “I can never imagine telling my son something so cruel.”

“We received a phone call from the young man who…who accused you.” Usually quite a proud man, Jeff Phillips flounders in explaining himself to his son — a fully grown and obviously proud man in his own respect. “And from the Dean of your college, as well. We were told the proof was irrefutable and we knew you were ambitious, it all just…” he stops, shaking his head and letting it hang in a moment of shame. “Your great-grandfather, my grandfather, had done a lot of very unfortunate, mostly illegal things to get ahead in his lifetime. I tried to raise you as far away from that kind of life as I possibly could, and it—it was a lie that hit too close to home. And I thought I’d failed you. Instead of taking responsibility for that, I lashed out. And I don’t expect you to ever forgive me for it. But your soulmate reached out to us and said you were getting married, so we wanted to at least tell you that we love you on your wedding day.” The gift they had brought was out on the table in the foyer with a few others that had been mailed — an heirloom for the baby with a long letter of explanation and apology. That way even if Max didn’t want to see them, they could at least leave him with words of love in another way. The Phillips family crib and baby blankets made by Max’s grandmother belonged with him now.

Max swallows harshly, knowing that before you, before his time in the past, he would have sent them away for the pure pleasure of watching them hurt the way they had hurt him. To lash out and make them feel the rejection and heartache he had lived with for years. Except, he had to watch history repeat itself in a sense. Knowing the path that was before a headstrong daughter and equally stubborn parents. Watching the silent heartbreak and pain when their daughter distanced themselves from them. Knowing the further heartache that was awaiting them. He had sworn that he would be better than his parents and if he sends them away, what does that teach his son? His parents only have a small amount of time left, should he deny himself that time out of some childish need for punishment? Over the centuries, Max would like to believe he’s matured.

He frowns, looking at the table that has the gifts on them and then looks back at his parents. “Are you staying?” He asks, unsure if they wanted to stay or if they just wanted to make peace.

“We’d like to,” his mother offers, eyes flickering once over to you and then back to her son. She knows the decision isn’t theirs or yours. “But only if you want us to.”

“What made you look for me? Do you think that I’m telling the truth? Or—” Max has to know, he has to know what changed their minds.

“We tried to look for you just a couple of weeks after everything happened.” Maria takes a small step forward, so deeply hopeful that Max will forgive them. “The school said they couldn’t tell us anything besides the fact that your transcripts had been forwarded to another university, and there wasn’t a Find My Phone or anything like that, that we could use to try to find you.” Her voice wavers, obviously emotional, and she sniffles softly. “We realized that the son we’d raised…you didn’t deserve to be shunned even if you had made a mistake. We’d just been so shocked that we reacted on instinct.” Another small shake of her head comes with a few small tears that Maria quickly wipes away. “We should have believed what you told us over anything else. Over any other fear or story. The more times we talked through it, the more we realized…cheating was never the shortcut you were going to take. You always worked too hard for that. And we’d pushed you away for nothing.”

“I had to go to Romania to find a school that would accept me.” Max tells them, biting his lip and closing his eyes as he wrestles with himself. “You lost the son you knew there.”

Your hand slips gently over his, holding it in yours and wondering if this was a mistake. You know how much Max misses his parents, but some hurts are just too deep. It would be truly unfortunate if this was one of them.

“It’s obvious you’ve become a good man even without us.” His father acknowledges, nodding sadly. He knows he failed his son in so many ways, and he really doesn’t have anyone to blame but himself. Maria had fought him in the beginning and brought him around to the truth in time. “But if you’d let us, we’d like to get to know the man you are now.”

“There’s something you need to know before you make that decision.” Max opens his eyes and looks at the older man who is so much like him, even though he has his mother’s ears. Then over to his mother who looks like she is about to break down sobbing. “I’ve wanted you in my life for years, but I won’t let you back in only for you to run away when you find out.”

“Whatever you want to share with us, we want to hear.” It’s a promise, and Jeff Phillips doesn’t take that lightly after all this time.

“Technically….” Max squeezes your hand gently. “Your son, I— died in Romania.” He admits quietly. “I was turned into a vampire.”

The quiet in the room could be cut by a knife, and you hold Max’s hand tightly while his parents process what he’s just said. It’s confusion — deep confusion — more than anything else, but after a seemingly interminable few minutes, Maria nods. “Are you happy?” She asks, aware that her husband must be looking at her like she has three heads right now.

“I am.” Max nods. “I have my soulmate and our child. I’ve done things you would never believe. And now, I am seeing you again.” He gives her a small smile. “After I— was changed, I came back. I saw you from a distance.”

“The world gave you a witch so you would have someone to understand you.” Maria observes, nodding solemnly. You had explained the pertinent parts of being Wiccan to his father over the phone months ago but hadn’t had that conversation directly with his mother so you hadn’t heard her reaction personally. “When did you come to see us, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. It’s a term he hasn’t heard from his mother in over ten years in this timeline and it makes him bite his lip. “August 14th, 2013.” He gives a small shrug. “Your birthday.”

It’s heartwarming, and unexpected, to know that he had missed them too. Just because you had said so in your call — it did not mean it ran deeply. But Max and his mother had always shared a mutual fondness for birthdays. “I wish you had come inside,” his mother admits, although she smiles in a sort of lopsided way. “Although…could you have? If we had not invited you? You’ll have to tell us what is real and what is legend.”

It’s curious that his mother automatically believes him, and he wonders if they think this is some kind of test. He’s testing to see they will believe him and chosen the most outrageous thing. “I don’t have to be invited in.” He laughs.

“Do you remember Vera?” His mother asks, seeing skepticism in her son’s eyes before looking back at her husband too. “The woman who lived next door and would babysit for us when Max was little?” To you she explains, “He would get off the school bus and go to our next-door neighbor’s house for a few hours until Jeff or I got out of work. Whichever one of us got home first would go next door and tell him we were home.”

“Yes?” Jeff frowns slightly, wondering why his wife would bring up a neighbor that was long moved away.

“When Max was a baby, and I would go over to her house during the day for a little change of scenery?” She pauses and looks back over at you with a smile. “Maternity leave can make you feel like your mind is melting sometimes. Find a safe place to get out of your own house. Even if it’s just someone else’s house.” The advice to you seems decent enough, and you barely have time to smile in acknowledgment before she’s looking back to her husband and son again. “Vera used to tell me stories from home,” Maria explains. “And…folktales are always founded in a little bit of truth, aren’t they?”

“She was Romanian.” Max remembers suddenly. “She told you about vampires, didn’t she?”

“She did.” Maria nods, but ends up shrugging reluctantly. “I thought she was an eccentric old lady, but I was grateful for the company. Now…I wish I had taken notes.” Stepping forward one more time, Maria takes a chance and reaches out for Max’s free hand. “We already lost you once, sweetheart. If this means we’ll never lose you again? That your soulmate and your son will never lose you? Then it’s a blessing.”

“I just— I didn’t want you to find out and throw me away again.” Max murmurs quietly. “I had planned on honoring your wishes, to never see you again. But— I— I’m glad you’re here.”

"We never should have said those things." Jeff was the one who said most of it, and he's been humbled enough by regret over the last decade to just...accept whatever it is that life puts out in front of him and his family. He may not understand it, but better to be confused and follow his wife's good example than to risk losing everything all over again. "We missed you, son."

Even though he doesn’t need to breathe, Max exhales loudly, trying to keep from crying. The whole in his heart that he’s refused to acknowledge since the day they had disowned him, finally starting to heal. “I’ve missed you too, Dad.”

The hesitation is cut from the room as Max's parents lurch forward to throw their arms around him and hold on to him tightly. As much as he hates to let go of your hand, he does, needing to basically catch his parents as they hug him. Closing his eyes and trying not to bawl like a baby as he inhales the scent of the people he had never imagined being close to again.

Maria is the one who cries, being dainty about it because she doesn't want her makeup to run or to stain her son's immaculate suit, but she can't help herself. It was not so long ago that she thought she would never get to even see Max again, let alone hug him.

The embrace goes on for longer than he had ever imagined until they break apart and Max turns his head towards you to find you crying quietly into a handkerchief. “Dolly, come here, my love.”

"I'm sorry," you murmur, laughing at yourself a little as you dab at your eyes. This is the reason you hadn't done your eye makeup yet. "Pregnancy hormones."

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” As soon as you are close, you are bundled into his arms and he is pressing his lips to yours. “I love you. I can’t believe you did this for me.”

"I'd do anything for you." And as many times as you've said it, the meaning always holds true. You would turn the world upside down for him – and you even have the power to do it after a hundred years spent honing your magic. "I love you so much."

“I love you too.” He promises gently. Kissing you once more before he turns to his parents. “Let me properly introduce you.” He offers. “Even though you’ve spoken on the phone.”

"We want to know everything." Max's father has handed his wife his handkerchief and is obviously stifling his own emotional reaction – and doing a very poor job of it.

Max pulls you closer to his side and his other hand is proudly protective on your stomach. “This is Dolly.” He does mention your real name, but wants them to know that you prefer your nickname. “My soulmate. The most wonderful woman in the world and the woman I will waltz through eternity with.”

Maria moves to embrace you without hesitation, but Jeff’s head tilts in obvious confusion and curiosity. “Waltz?”

Right. He had never really danced when he was with them. It was picked up in Romania. "I started ballroom dancing." He explains. "An elective in Romania. Dolly also ballroom danced competitively. My favorite thing to do is to waltz with this beautiful lady." He admits proudly.

“We choreographed our first dance,” you tell them proudly, as soft as ever at Max’s side. “You’ll see. He’s an exceptional dancer.”

Maria bites her lip, aware of missing so much time with her son because of their foolish mistake and she nods. "He is exceptional." She reaches out for one of his hands and squeezes it gently. "And you seem so happy." That's all that matters to her.

“We are.” If anything, that is the thing you can promise them. That you’re happy and living the very best, most fulfilling life you possibly can be. “Max is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

"And...his being a vampire is what caused you to meet?" Jeff asks, curious to how the two of you met and trying to wrap his head around the whole situation.

“My grandfather was one of Max’s professors in Romania.” This is the part that is going to get careful explanation, as you hadn’t gone into it over the phone. “He is also Max’s sire. That is…the vampire that turned him. My grandfather took Max under his wing, and even brought him to live with my grandmother here in Newport before she died. I met Max when I moved into that house, as well.”

"I see." There's obviously more to the story, but he won't pry. Right now, he is just glad the boy is talking to him. He knows that Max inherited his stubborn streak, and he could have been rightfully turned away with an expletive and he would have deserved it.

“You’ll meet him today, if you stay for the wedding.” There are still a few more months on Yayo’s ticking clock to join his wife and daughter in the afterlife, but he is waiting until your son is born to leave this world. He had smiled when the decision was made, telling you that wanted to bring good news to Cookie and Annie in the next life. “My grandfather is…a little dramatic,” you smile, stifling a laugh. “I’m afraid it’s a family trait.”

Max chuckles. "And since he is a vampire as well, he looks younger than you, Dad." He warns the other man. "However, Dolly's grandfather is the first vampire. The oldest in existence and has walked the earth for thousands of years."

“It’s a bit of a long story.” The expressions on both of his parents’ faces are something like an undergrad trying to work out a complex math problem, and you shake your head while running a soothing hand over your belly. “Can I offer you a tour of the house?” That, at least, is semi normal. Even if your house was built in 1888 and is still a functional Gilded Age mansion.

“It is beautiful.” Maria nods instantly and Jeff shakes his head. “Do you mind if I speak to Max privately?” He asks you before looking at his son. “Would you, son?”

You look to Max for his confirmation, and when he nods and leans over to kiss you, you offer him an encouraging smile. “I’ll show your mother the library first.”

Max nods, his eyes following you out of the room and he wants to follow you, but he is curious to what his father wants to say privately. Only when he can't see you anymore, do his eyes turn towards Jeff and he arches a brow.

“She’s quite a girl.” He says after the door closes, gesturing to where you have escorted his mother from the room with grace and surety.

"Yes she is." Max will always agree with that. His proud little smile on the corner of his mouth shows his happiness at being matched with you. "She's been through a lot and is still the kindest woman I've ever known."

"When she called us the first time, your mother thought she was an angel." Jeff smiles at that, his wife always has been the gentler out of the two of them. Just like with you and Max.

"In a lot of ways, she is." Max nods. "I normally call her Queenie, as another nickname." He tells his father. "And she is amazingly graceful, carrying a half vampiric child."

"And her..." his father clears his throat. "Her grandfather is...also a vampire?" He's not willing to go against a single second of this, his son is too precious to him after all this time, but he wants to at least make sure that he has everything he's being told straight.

"Yes." Max looks at his father. "I would have met her at Vanderbilt. Discovered that we were soulmates there. I actually had a blind date with her the day I was kicked out." He reveals. "But that didn't happen and luckily her grandfather recognized her birthmark on my arm and changed me." He slides his hands into his pockets, a defense against the hurt that is still there but slowly lessening. Ever more so now that his parents want to be in his life. "He arranged for us to have the meeting we should have had nearly fourteen years ago."

"Jesus..." If his wife was in the room, Maria would scold him for taking the Lord's name in vain, but Jeff just shakes his head. "I..." Jeff blows out a breath. "I know saying that I'm sorry will never be enough. But I really...I'll never stop saying it, if that's what it takes for you to believe how much we regret what happened."

"I believe you." Max has become closely acquainted with actions taken in anger and regretted later. He believes that your mother would have eventually broken the magic binding if she had lived. "Dolly and I talked about reaching out, but for a long time, I was so hurt, I wouldn't have come to you for anything." He sighs softly. "My wife doesn't have much family left. Her parents are gone, and I know she wants as much love for our son as possible. It doesn't surprise me that she contacted you."

"She said she lost her parents, and that you shouldn't have to lose yours as well." It's sweet, Jeff thinks, that his son already refers to his soulmate as his wife on the morning of their wedding day, but he doesn't say anything. It seems like your lives are complicated and he doesn't want to judge. On that, he has learned his lesson. "Max, you should...you should know..." He clears his throat again and casts an eye around the room. "I never actually changed my will. By the time I came out of the fog enough to even talk to our lawyer, I realized the mistake I had made. But it was already too late to find you."

Max frowns slightly, wondering why that would matter to him. Why he would be concerned with his father's will, but then it clicks. His father wants to talk to him about some kind of inheritance. He tilts his head curiously. "I see...."

"Obviously you don't...you don't need my help." The house his son lives in now is a literal mansion. It's far bigger and better than anything that he and Maria were able to give Max growing up. But there is a matter of principle and pride in making sure that they leave what they can to their son when they leave this world. "I had a cousin. A distant cousin, I mean. Who died two years ago. And the guy left behind a big plot of land as well as some assets. Combined with what your mother and I had planned to leave you...it's pretty substantial." He shrugs his shoulders a little, hands in his pockets in a posture that mirrors his son's. "Do whatever you like with it. It's yours. Or maybe your boy's, who knows?"

"Dad...I appreciate that." He promises, meaning it. He had long written off the idea of anything from his parents. "More than you know."

"Maye we can all take a trip together sometime?" He's lost so much time with Max that even being called Dad again has him close to tears, but he shakes it off for now. The day is already emotional. "I guess my mother's side of the family had some money, so it's a nice piece of land in upstate New York. Tuxedo Park. 'Pullman House', I think it's called. Can you imagine having enough money that your house has a name?" He chuckles at the idea, not realizing that his son’s current home most definitely has a name, and shaking his head.

Max freezes for a moment, his eyes widening slightly and he has to take a moment. "Pullman House?" He asks, remembering visiting the house, the last time being a very somber affair. "I— are you serious?"

"Yeah." Jeff nods, taking out his phone to pull up the pictures of the house and grounds that the estate lawyer had sent over. "Have you heard of it?"

"I— I didn't know we were related to the Pullman's." He admits, never looking into his family tree when he was back in time with you. He hadn't wanted to. "How?"

"My grandmother was a Pullman." He doesn't quite see why it matters, but Max seems to recognize the family name so he hands over his phone with photographs of the sprawling mansion. "They made train cars, I think? Back after the Civil War. Must have made quite a bit of money at it, to have a house like that, but it's not in the best shape now. We, uh...your mother and I thought, we could invest a little in it now to fix it up and rent the house out while we're alive. And once we're gone it's yours to do whatever you want with."

"I've been there before." Max tells him with a nod, "I mean, in the area. Tuxedo Park. It's gorgeous from what I remember." He lifts a brow and decides that maybe he should put forth an idea of his own. "It could be something we do together?" He offers. "Dolly and I love historical architecture. Obviously." He chuckles as he glances around the room. "We can start the restoration and see what happens?"

Jeff obviously hadn’t expected that kind of enthusiasm, and when he nods he put his hand out to his son to shake. “I’d like the chance to get to know the man my son has become,” he agrees, on the verge of being choked up again. “And I’ll never say no to getting to see my grandson. It sounds pretty perfect.”

Max looks at the offered hand and reaches out to shake it firmly. "That sounds good." He tells him. "But first, I need to make sure that my soulmate officially carries the Phillips last name." He jokes.

“Why don’t we catch up with our soulmates before they start making plans of their own?” His father suggests with a chuckle, knowing that Maria’s sweet disposition means it could very well happen.

"I'm glad you came." Max admits softly, frowning slightly even though he's completely happy. He's frowning so he doesn't cry, but there's a certain mistiness to his eyes.

“I’m glad, too.” On instinct, Jeff tugs gently on Max’s hand and gratefully holds onto his son once more in a strong hug. They’re both emotional, but if there was ever a time for it in their lives — this seems as appropriate a time as any to shed a few tears in each other’s presence. “I love you, Max. I’m sorry it’s not something you heard often when you were growing up.”

"Always thought I had done something wrong." Max confesses. "If I made the team, you'd love me. If I graduated with honors, you'd love me." He flashes an amused, self-deprecating grin. "If I was a ladies’ man, you'd – at least be proud of me." He snorts. "Always wondered why it was never quite enough. If I was just that much of a disappointment. So instead of talking about it, I decided being a cocky shit and show that I didn't really care what people thought of me."

“I pushed you hard because I knew you were going to do something incredible one day.” They’re both teary, standing together in that room, but it’s okay. It’s always been okay to show his son what he feels, he just didn’t know that. “Your Mom, um…she’s had me doing work on myself. I mean, we’ve been doing it together, but it’s mostly for…” He huffs, rolling his eyes at himself. “She comes to therapy with me a lot. Got plenty of shit to work out and I don’t want it to affect you anymore. And I really don’t want it to affect my grandson. So I’m…I’m working on me. I just really hope it helps. Because you were always enough, Bud. And I always loved you. I just didn’t know how to tell you that.”

"I understand." Max nods. "I've done my own bit of therapy." He doesn't mention it was back before therapy was a thing and it had been with his sire. "Dolly has insisted on it, because of her own issues and it's a good thing. To be the best version of ourselves for each other and our son."

“Do you have any names yet?” Motioning to the door, Jeff means to walk and talk if they can, trying to make the most of every second he has with Max. Of course there’s probably things to finalize before the wedding starts, but they at least have time to catch up to their soulmates.

"We were thinking Johnathan, for Dolly's grandfather and my sire." He smiles slightly. "Johnathan Jeffery Phillips." He watches his father, wondering how he would react to the middle name.

It’s instant, the way Jeff tears up all over again, and this time two thick tears escape his eyes before he can stop them. “Really?” He has to ask, wondering if his son had forgiven him long enough ago to have considered naming his son after the father who had made such an enormous mistake.

"We had long talks about it." Many hours spent talking while you laid in his arms and later when he was stroking the rounded stomach that houses his child even now. "If my son couldn't have his grandfather in his life, at least he would carry a piece of him with him." It was how you had phrased it and Max had nearly cried then too.

“Well goddamn.” Gobsmacked, Jeff wipes his hands down his face and then claps Max on the back with a sigh. “I don’t even know what to say. Except thank you.”

There's nothing else to say at the moment, so Max just nods as you and his mother come into view. "There they are." He hums, smiling at the sight of you absently stroking your stomach as you chat with Maria.

“Hey, my love.” In your wedding dress, all ready for the day, you have been telling your mother-in-law a little about the history of the house and showing her some of the older books in the library. Seeing Max’s softened expression though, you reach out to him immediately. “Everything alright?”

“It’s fine.” He loves that you worry about him, it makes him feel loved. “I was telling my dad about the name we’ve picked out for the baby.”

“Ah,” you hum, leaning over the bump between you to kiss him softly. “Hence the tears?”

“A little emotional.” Max admits shamelessly, enjoying the bump of his heart as he presses his lips to yours.

“That’s good.” You tilt your head to kiss his nose as well and wink. “It’s our wedding day after all.”

"You are amazing, you know that?" He asks softly, kissing you again. "I can't believe you did this. Thank you, my love."

“You deserve to be happy.” The gentle reminder comes with a smile, and you squeeze his hand. “And I know you missed them.”

"You know me too well." He smirks. "Almost like you've lived with me forever."

“Hmm.” Humming a little, you end up giggling instead. “Almost like.”

There’s an inside joke there somewhere, making Jeff and Maria smile awkwardly as the two of you share a moment. “Did you tell Mom?” He asks you, wanting to make sure everyone was aware of the name.

“Not yet.” You look back at his parents but shake your head. “I thought you would want to tell them.”

He flashes you a grin, knowing you are aware that he still has a love of attention, but this is truly special. “Our son is going to be named Johnathan Jeffery Phillips.” He tells Maria, rubbing your belly gently.

“Sweetheart.” His mother is nearly in tears all over again, reaching for Max with overwhelming affection just as earnestly as her other hand goes to her husband. “Is it…” her hands are occupied, but her eyes move to you. “Was Johnathan your father’s name?” She asks as gently as she can.

“It’s my grandfather’s,” you tell her, touched that she would think to ask. “We think we’ll call him JJ for short, but we wanted him to have family names.” JJ is also a sort of family name; in a way you can’t really explain. Lina’s youngest son — little JJ Astor — was sort of your spiritual godson after he wanted to start learning his magic as a young man. You mourned him as dearly as the rest of his family did after the Titanic went down, even though you knew it was coming. That didn’t stop you from missing him.

“I— it’s a beautiful name.” Maria assures you. “JJ is a proper little boy’s name and then he can decide if he wants to keep it or go by Johnathan.” She is so touched that Max would include them in the naming of his child, despite the troubles from before. It will be one of the greatest regrets of her life.

“No matter what, he’ll always be loved.” Your hand smooths the underside of your belly as JJ himself makes an appearance in the conversation, kicking happily to show his approval — or at least his enthusiasm.

Max chuckles proudly. “He’s always so active. Giving mom his opinions on everything. He seems to like his name.” He tells his parents.

“I hate to interrupt, sir. Madam.” The petite figure of your housekeeper appears in the open library doorway. Mrs. Moreau has been with you since the house was finished in 1888, a determined and intelligent middle-aged woman-turned-vampire from Louisiana that prided herself on her skills as a caretaker. “But the other guests have begun to arrive. Mr. And Mrs. Perez are asking for you.”

“Of course.” Max nods and looks towards his parents. “I would like you to stay.” He tells them. “Please? We can talk and if you haven’t booked a hotel, you are welcomed to stay here.” He glances at you for confirmation, but he’s well aware that you’ve probably already planned for such an event.

“I already asked Mrs. Moreau to make up a guest room.” Obviously you had been hopeful that this reunion would go well, but you had really asked your housekeeper to make sure a few guest rooms were ready just in case anyone over indulged at the wedding. Safety first.

“Oh, well – are you sure?” The last thing they want to do is intrude on their son on his wedding night, but they also aren’t ready to let him out of their sight for too long as well. They hadn’t booked a hotel in case he refused to see them; the heartbreak would have been too much.

“We insist.” This is the outcome you were hoping for, after all, and you’re glad to see that Max and his parents are going to be able to patch things up. However slowly it happens, the work has begun. And that’s what matters most. “We aren’t leaving for our honeymoon for another week. And we’d like very much if you stayed.” The little train ride down to Washington DC will be welcome, and you had planned to take in museums and eat good food for a week or two before coming home again and making sure you have everything you need for the baby.

Maria bites her lip and looks at Jeff, wanting this more than anything. She’s missed her son, her only baby and now she’s being given another chance. “We accept.” She tells you with a happy grin. “As long as we can help in some small way. However we can.”

“I’m sure we’ll think of something.” You assure her, but for now you link your fingers through Max’s and smile. “We’re going to go finish getting ready. Please have a drink if you’d like and enjoy looking around a little before you take your seats in the garden. Mrs. Moreau will help you get settled.” There’s something to be said for having come into your own as a woman and a hostess in the Gilded Age, and with the help of women like your grandmother, Mrs. Astor, and Mrs. Vanderbilt. It has made you gracious and thoughtful, and very well prepared.

“Thank you again.” Jeff nods, looking at both of you as he compares the boy he had last known and the man and father-to-be that stands in front of him. “We will speak later.”

“We shouldn’t keep Eddie and Allison waiting.” A squeeze of his hand reminds Max to walk with you, and you hurry upstairs quickly to avoid being spotted by your newly arriving guests.

“Any other surprises that I need to be aware of?” Max asks with a smirk as he keeps his hand on your back, just in case.

“I talked my grandfather into cutting his toast in half.” The grin on your face is unrepentant. At the first of your weddings, Yayo’s reception toast was early forty minutes long. “Surprise.”

Laughing, Max shakes his head. “Yeah but now, we might have to have a speech from my father.”

“I’m rather looking forward to it.” At the top of the stairs, you can hear your brother and sister-in-law in your bedroom, humming over flowers and such. “I love you, Max. Forever. And I take that promise very literally.”

“I love you too.” Max stops you and cups your cheek. “You continue to surprise me, and I will never take you for granted one day during our existence.”

******

There are things about returning to Tuxedo Park that make you very nostalgic in a way that you cannot express to anyone besides Max. You came here together for Emmanuel’s funeral, supporting your grieving mother as her friends. It had been his parents’ wish to bury him here on the property, and now a large weeping beech tree oversees a small family plot on one end of the acreage. The distant cousin Max hadn’t known was buried here also, and had stored generations of family heirlooms inside the many rooms of Pullman House.

Going through these rooms is a lot of organizational work, but thankfully you can do quite a bit of it sitting at the dining room table with JJ in his Grow-With-Me chair beside you, kicking at musical keys and playing with the knobs, soft toys, and multicolored rings that the stationary play station has for his little mind to engage with. He seems to like the house well enough – although he did not like the drive here – and is currently staring and babbling happily at the far corner of the room while you look through old staff records and maintenance books kept by the superintendent.

“Hey love.” Max breezes into the room, taking on the role of handyman seriously, complete with walking about the house in flannel shirts with the sleeves rolled up and a tool belt around his hips. Not that he was really using it right now, but you seem to enjoy the view.

“Hey Daddy.” You stretch your neck to invite a kiss and he leans over obligingly as your six-month-old gurgles happily a foot away. “Are your parents back from town yet?”

“Just pulled in.” He grins and presses his lips to yours several times. “How’s my favorite girl. And my little biter?”

“He’s got a favorite spot on the wall to babble at and I’m reading through staffing records. Apparently the house got hit hard by Spanish flu and lost a few people.” You bite your lip, almost hating to say his name, but you have to. “Emmanuel’s nieces both died, and a few members of staff.”

Max sighs softly. “It feels like he should walk through the door.” He admits quietly. “Asking if we have time to check a design he had built and give our opinions.”

“Is it weird that I’ve always wished I could introduce him to my father?” The two men your mother had loved definitely had had more in common than not. Which makes sense, of course, in that your mother had a type. “I just know they would have been friends.”

“It’s not strange.” Max shakes his head. “Just like you shouldn’t feel bad for loving Emmanuel like we did. I think they would have loved each other.”

“I don’t feel bad. I mean it took some adjusting to…to realize that I miss him as my friend and he very well could have been my father.” You shrug slightly, reaching out your fingers to adjust one of JJ’s toys in his chair. “Being here just brings it all back. I’m sure if we were in the house I grew up in, I’d be thinking about my Dad instead.”

“Of course you would.” Max nods seriously. “Have you thought about my offer?” He asks softly.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot, actually.” Ever since reuniting with his parents and the birth of his son, Max has been fully family oriented. He’s been endlessly helpful in every aspect of adjusting the way you live to make way for more family, and that included a very generous suggestion a week ago. “I think I’d like it very much, honestly. Bringing Mom and Dad back to Newport seems…it seems right. The family plot at Island Cemetery has plenty of room and it would be nice to not feel so disconnected from them.”

“You would be able to visit her whenever you want.” Max agrees. You’ve visited your parents’ graves a few times, but it’s too far to travel now that JJ is here. “I will have all the arrangements made.”

“Thank you, love.” A half-smile graces your lips, which grows when JJ babbles at the corner again happily. “And when we’re here, we can visit Emmanuel.”

“What is he babbling at?” Max wonders, looking over at his son with a curious pride. “It’s like he’s talking to someone.”

“I don’t know, he’s been at it the whole time I’ve—” But turning your head to actually look at the area where your son is focused makes you almost swallow your tongue. “Oh gods…”

“What?” Max’s fangs descend in a flash and he’s speeding over to JJ to whisk him into his arms. He might be a little overprotective, but this is his son.

"Emmanuel?" The ghostly figure in the corner is unmistakable, his tousled hair and immaculate clothing exactly the way he looked in life, if significantly more transparent and...somewhat more sad.

“What?” This time Max’s eyes are wide, not fearful or protective, but confused. “What do you see?” He demands again, staring at the spot where JJ has been babbling.

"I see Emmanuel," you repeat again, more carefully, seeing the figure of your old friend looking back at you. "That...that is you, isn't it?" The fact that Max can't see him makes you think it must be your and JJ's witch's blood at work, and you stand up from your chair carefully. "Can you see me, too?"

"Oh..." The shadowy memory of Emmanuel sighs quietly. "I can see you. And hear you. It's...I didn't know you could see me," he admits.

“What’s he saying? Is he talking back?” Max asks, looking back and forth between the corner and you.

"He didn't know that we could see him," you explain to Max, tears brimming in your eyes to see your old friend again. "But I—I don't understand." When you look back to the corner, Emmanuel has taken a step forward. "How long have you been here? I had no idea someone who had been a vampire could become a ghost."

Max tilts his head as you seemingly talk to thin air, but Emmanuel has to be there if you say he is. “Since I was destroyed.” He admits quietly, eyes darting back and forth between you and Max. “But you are here and— Annie? She’s your mother?”

“I suppose there’s…a bit to explain.” You glance back at Max where he is holding JJ close to his chest and bouncing your son gently in his arms. “This is when we are originally from. One of my powers is the ability to time travel, and I brought us back to your time by accident. But…yes. Annie was my mother. And the Browns were actually my grandparents.” You smile softly, almost laughing in disbelief. “And this is our son, JJ. Who apparently could see you all day today and simply couldn’t tell me.”

Emmanuel bites his lip as he stares at you. “I— I thought I was doing the right thing.” He tells you, having had decades to reflect on his mistakes.

“So did my grandfather.” Although you nod, regret sticks in your throat as though you were somehow complicit in the decision to sire your mother’s soulmate purely because you didn’t stop it. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“Is that what happened?” Emmanuel asks softly, frowning fiercely as he tries to remember those last moments. There was just a fog, a hunger he had never felt before and then seeing Annie’s eyes filled with regret and pain. Realizing she had staked him. “I— I could never hurt her. She is my world.”

“I know.” Magic isn’t merciful enough to let you touch him — hug him — to offer him comfort, but at least you can give your friend some kind of reassurance. “And Mom knew that, too. That it wasn’t you, when it happened.” Maybe that’s how he ended up a ghost, instead of moving on? You can’t be sure. “No one who ever saw you together could ever doubt how much you loved each other.”

“I— oh god.” He closes his eyes, pain etched across his face. “I hurt her. I— I just wanted to live through eternity with her. To give her the world. I would have never…” Regret laces his words, fills his tone and he wishes once again, that he had never changed.

“Emmanuel…” Cutting him off softly, you find yourself reaching out a hand to him even though you know you can’t touch him. It’s just instinct. “It’s—it’s done with. And…even if you had lived on? It’s…Annie died in a car accident when I was eighteen. She was still mortal, Emmanuel. Despite having such a long life. There’s just… there’s nothing that any of us can do sometimes to prevent tragedy. I know that might not be the most comforting thing in the world, but please don’t torture yourself thinking that she’s still walking the earth in pain.”

“She’s— Annie is gone?” He chokes out, the pain of knowing his soulmate no longer exists, blooming. He had thought he couldn’t feel the crushing pain of loss as a ghost after so many years of haunting Pullman House, but apparently he could. “Dolly— I— she’s gone?”

“I’m sorry.” Maybe you should have eased into the news a little, but you had honestly thought it would be comforting to know she wasn’t in pain anymore. “It’s been almost fifteen years now.”

“Why am I still here?” Emmanuel asks, unable to ask the question to anyone else since he has shown up here to haunt the halls.

“I don’t know.” You tell him honestly. “I’ve…you’re the first ghost I’ve ever met.”

He nods and his eyes slide over to Max and JJ. “Is he—?” He asks, eyes longing as they look at the child. The child that in his mind, should be his grandchild. “Are you happy?”

It almost feels rude to tell him just how happy you really are, but there is such a small chance that knowing your family is happy and healthy might actually help him somehow — and you cannot lie to your friend. Not anymore. You’ve already kept so much from him. “Yes,” you nod, knowing that Max is right behind you with JJ in his arms and that every moment your family has together is not to be taken for granted. “We’re still very happy.”

“Good.” Emmanuel smiles and looks back at the baby again. “Your son?” He asks. “He’s bright. He saw me right away.”

“He’s six months old today.” You can’t help the immensely proud way you beam when talking about your son. JJ is your pride and joy and you absolutely will talk about him from dawn until dusk. “Seeing you is…it’s the first sign of magic he’s shown. And I’m so very glad.”

“Does he...need blood?” He asks curiously.

“Some.” And you’re grateful you had been prepared for that, otherwise it would have been a very rude awakening. “But according to Cookie, Annie stopped needing blood after she stopped growing.”

“And you?” He asks, curious as to what you experienced as a child. “Did you need blood?”

“Not that I remember.” It isn’t impossible that you were given it as a baby and simply don’t remember, but even with your memory as clear as it is you don’t recall any sippy cups of blood in your childhood. “But I do take some of Max’s now. To prolong my life.”

“That is good.” Emmanuel nods. “You deserve a long life. You were always so kind to me. Even if you obviously knew what my fate was.”

“You loved my mother.” It’s as simple as that, to you at least, and again you just desperately wish you could hug him. “And you were a wonderful friend to Max and to me. You deserve as much kindness as every other good person in the world. I’m just…I’m very glad that I could be one of the people you find it in.”

“I am sorry.” Emmanuel murmurs softly. “For all the pain I cause your mother.” He’s had plenty of time to regret his change and now that he knows that he had hurt her, he is even more so.

“I wish it didn’t torture you the way it does.” It’s a sort of vain hope…or least a far-fetched one, but it is honest. “We are all of us only human, after all. Even witches and even vampires. We still make all the same mistakes and have all the same feelings.”

“I just hope that she was happy.” Emmanuel confesses. “After my time with her had ended.”

“In my memories of her, she was very happy.” It would be cruel to harp on the fact that your father was a good man and a good partner for her, and you won’t mention him at all, but you do smile reflexively. “Life when I was growing up was simple, and quiet, and happy. I can promise you that.”

“Good.” He smiles, nodding at the imagery you are producing. “That is all I can ask for.”

“You should know.” Stepping away from the topic of your mother or his regret for a moment is the gentlest thing you can think of in this moment. “Max and I…we’re helping his parents restore this house. They own it now. So we’ll be here, in and out, from now on.”

“Truly?” His eyes light up, delighted to maybe have company at some points during his existence as a ghost. “Would you— perhaps we could talk more? Not always, but some moments when you have time?”

“Of course we can talk more. And as JJ gets older, he’ll be able to talk to you, too.” His joy makes your heart ache, just like the very idea that you might not want to talk to him is absurd. “We’ve missed you, Emmanuel. Very much.”

“I’ve missed you too.” He promises with a small, sardonic smirk. “Although it’s amusing that Max cannot see me.”

“We’ll have to talk about him while he’s in the room,” you tease, throwing a grin back at your soulmate. “It will drive him crazy.”

“Don’t you dare talk about me.” Max huffs, frowning fiercely at the idea.

"Love you, babe." A grin over your shoulder tells him you're only teasing.

Max huffs and rolls his eyes. “Keep it up and I’ll start calling you ‘Manny’.” He threatens his old friend, not meaning a word of it.

“You’ll do that anyway,” Emmanuel replies, knowing his friend can’t hear him but enjoying the comfort that you can. You’re the first person to ever see him and actually hear what he says and it’s more comforting than he can possibly say.

“He says you’ll do that anyway,” you pass the message along with a grin.

Max tries to look innocent but fails miserably when he grins. “True.” He snorts and steps closer to the corner with the baby in his arms. “I can’t see you, but I’m glad that you’re— not gone.” He settles for that and shrugs. “I don’t know what to call it, but I’ve missed our billiards games.”

“It’s hard to play billiards without a body,” Emmanuel chuckles. “But maybe your wife will be kind enough to help us play chess.”

“He says I should help you play chess.” Translating between them makes you smile. Something you never expected but it warms your heart. “And I happily agree.”

“We will have to do it.” Max nods and gives a small chuckle. “No cheating though. I know you.”

That makes you snicker, but you hold up both hands in innocence. “I promise I won’t help him cheat,” you vow, wiggling your fingers in his direction. “Now, can I hold our son, please?”

“Sure.” Now that there’s no danger, Max has no problem handing over JJ to you. The boy goes easily, babbling happily and pointing at the corner.

"Sweetheart, I want you to meet somebody." Cooing to your son, you press a kiss to JJ's forehead and carry him a little closer to where Emmanuel is standing, past the table and past the chairs you had been sitting on all day. "This is Uncle Emmanuel." How much of what you're telling him is actually sinking into his curious little mind, you can't be sure. At six months old, he's definitely not piecing together a family tree in his mind. "He lives here, so we're going to be very nice to his house, okay Bud?" Picking up his little hand in yours, you grin when your son giggles approvingly. "Wave hi, Bud! Hi Uncle Emmanuel!"

JJ has learned to wave and he throws his entire body into it. Babbling and gurgling with a giant grin on his face as he damn near wiggles out of your arms.

If Emmanuel could still cry, he would have tears in his eyes. But as it is, the emotion sticking in his throat gives him away. “He is a blessing.” He manages to say, regarding the little boy in your arms.

“Yes.” You will agree to that every time, and never contest it for even a moment. “He absolutely is.”

******

Despite it being over 100 years of you sleeping beside him while he stays awake, Max doesn’t leave the bed. Too content to hold you as your breathing is nice and slow. Unless JJ is fussy and then he leaves you sleeping to handle the baby. He slips out of the bed as you groan and turn over to hug his pillow.

Your dreams have gotten slightly stranger since starting to take Max’s blood — the strangest were during pregnancy, but thank the gods that’s over — but it wouldn’t be uncommon to dream of magic or anthropomorphic anything or even create entire other universes in your mind. That makes this dream, as Max slips out of bed to rock your fussy son in his arms, all the more remarkable for being normal. Just a dream of your grandparents and parents sitting around a table playing cards like nothing had ever happened between them.

Your grandfather is the first to notice you, turning and smiling at you, just like he had your entire childhood when he visited you in your dreams. “Muñeca, you have come.” He stands and waves you over to the group.

“Yayo?” It isn’t the first time you’ve dreamt of your grandfather since he left this life, but it feels so much more real. “Am I late?”

He shakes his head and moves to gather you into a hug. “You are just on time. Come. There are others who have waited so long to see you again.”

You can see your family in the room, but at your grandfather’s bidding it’s like a veil lifts and you step further into the dining room at Chateau-sur-Mer to see your parents beaming at you as your abuela starts to deal you into their card game.

“Come sit with us.” Cookie hums in delight. “It has been so long since I have talked to you, my darling.”

“Are you…” Aware of your grandfather’s power, you don’t hesitate to go to the table, but you do look back at him before reaching out to hug your grandmother. “Are you all really here?” You ask, already choked up at the idea of it.

“After death, hard feelings are not nearly as important as family.” Annie admits, reaching out and taking your hand when you sit down. “I have so much to apologize for, sweetheart. So much.”

“You did what you thought was right, Mom.” Being able to see her again — touch her — call her Mom instead of Annie? It’s such a gift. It’s more than you ever dared to ask for, even knowing what is possible in the world. On her other side, though, you fly out of your chair to go to your father. It’s been the longest since you saw him, let alone spoke to him, because talking to the photos on your vanity at home don’t count as much.

“Hey pumpkin.” The fact that you are grown makes no difference as your father folds you into his arms and pulls you onto his lap for a hug like you are still six years old. “I have missed you so much. Been watching over you.”

“I miss you, Dad.” Such easy words to say, even as they shake through you, and you cling to him for a hug. “I miss all of you, but…gods I’m so sorry I didn’t come to see you when I was in the past. I was terrified of changing the timeline.”

“Honey, we understand.” Your father reassures you, kissing your forehead like he would have when comforting you from a bad dream. “I am just glad you got to see your mother. Your grandparents.” He pulls back and smiles at you. “Now you get to see me.”

“I wish you could’ve met Max.” Looking up and casting your eyes around the table, you soften again. “And JJ. Yayo is the only one who got to meet JJ, and you would all love him so much.”

“We’ve met JJ.” Your father admits with a smile. “Dreams, just like now, with you.”

“You can…with JJ?” It shouldn’t surprise you, not after last week’s revelation that your six-month-old can already see ghosts, but you smile in relief. “Good. I’m glad he’ll get to dream of his family.”

“We won’t monopolize his dreams.” Cookie promises. “Just drop in from time to time.”

“How are you still able to visit us?” This question is for Yayo, who is quietly looking through his hand off cards with a small smile. “If you…passed on? How do you still have your powers?”

“We are waiting.” Yayo tells you simply. “For Emmanuel.”

“Then I think you might be waiting for a while,” you tell him, guilt creeping into your voice as you look around the table. “He’s…he didn’t cross over. We’re at Pullman House right now. And he’s still here.”

“He has to forgive himself first.” Annie murmurs, looking sadly over at your father and then at you. “But he will. And then we will all be together.”

"He's heartbroken that he hurt you." It's so important for your mother to know this. To completely wrap her head around it, even if you understand that she probably forgave him long ago. "He barely even remembers when it happened. We've...talked through it. Extensively." Call it Ghost Therapy, but you had been hoping that trying to remember might somehow help him move on.

“Tell him that I— we— are waiting for him.” Annie requests, looking over at her husband, your father, and smiling. “Your father is looking forward to knowing the man that I loved before him. That I still love.”

“I…always thought you would be such good friends if you could meet.” It feels odd to admit it to your father, but it’s honest. It’s how you’ve felt since very early on after meeting Emmanuel.

“I know we would be.” Your father chuckles and looks at Annie lovingly. “She has told me about her soulmate.”

“Did they…tell you about Max, too?” It might be selfish, to wonder if they’ve talked about you and your happiness — but this is your family. Your parents and grandparents. In your heart your hope they’re at least happy for you.

“Absolutely.” He assures you with a proud smile. “I’ve watched how he cares for you, loves you.” He bites his lip. “He’s the kind of man I always hoped you would be with.”

“I wish you could visit him, too.” You admit, smiling softly. “But he doesn’t dream. Or sleep, really.”

“Yes, he’s too busy watching over his family.” Your grandmother hums in approval.

“You made a good choice, Yayo.” Of that, you can assure him. “Eddie and Allison are doing so well.”

“They are, aren’t they?” He smiles the satisfied little smirk of contentment before he picks up Cookie’s hand and kisses the back of it. “They are made for it, so I have cashed in one last favor from the devil.”

“Oh?” To hear that he had any left at all is a surprise, and you sit up at the table.

“Yes.” He hums, arching his brow and letting the moment sit just a touch longer for the dramatic effect. “They will walk the earth for eternity as soulmates.”

“Yayo.” The well of tears behind your eyes is instant, tears spilling over onto your cheeks as you think of how much that will mean to them. “You—they’ll be ecstatic,” you sniffle, wiping away the dripping tears.

“I thought they would like my last gift to them.” He nods, and holds up a finger. “But tell them that they should still treat every day as if they have just discovered each other.”

“I promise I’ll tell them.” Is it possible they don’t know yet? That it hasn’t happened? You’re certain that Allison would have called if she and Eddie had suddenly gained each other’s marks on any random afternoon. “And…” you look to your mother but have to wipe tears away all over again. “I’ll talk to Emmanuel. To tell him it’s time to finally forgive himself. Because you forgave him a long time ago.”

“I wish for him to enjoy this eternity with us.” Annie adds, nodding happily that you understand and there seems to be no hard feelings.

“I’ll tell him,” you promise again. For all the lifetimes that you knew your mother — whether she was your mother or your friend Annie — you have been able to love her through all of them. It’s oddly gratifying that you’ll be able to send her soulmate to her now. So that she can be loved all the more.

“Thank you, love.” Annie beams at you. “I am so grateful that you came back to visit during my youth. That I know you as the woman you are as well as my baby girl.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t tell you while we were there.” It would have been too much. Too complicated and too risky. But at least you had been able to know your mother for many more years.

“Oh sweetheart, I understand.” Your mother shakes her head and gives you a sad smile. “It would have changed things if I had known. And while I wish that I had not made mistakes, I did. I just hope you can forgive me for them.”

“I don’t think there’s a single person at this table who hasn’t tried a little too hard to protect the people they love.” Too much pressure, spellbinding, and accidental time travel all seem to be varying levels of the same misguided leaps into protection. It seems to be a family trait. “I understand why you did it. I’d do anything to protect JJ, too.”

“Just don’t repeat the mistakes we have made.” Yayo cautions you wisely. “Learn from our follies so you can make all new mistakes.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. The idea of all new mistakes being both daunting and very realistic. “I’m sure we will. That’s parenthood, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is.” All of the adults chuckle, well aware of their own parental mistakes and your father strokes your back gently. “You are a good mother. You will be for all the children to come.”

“I hope it will be several,” you admit with a grin. “I’m really enjoying motherhood.”

“It will be.” Yayo confirms with a knowing smirk. He has his ways of knowing that his family will be happy and healthy for generations to come.

******

The sun rises right into your bedroom window at Pullman House, bringing you out of your dream gently but without question. The baby monitor is gone from the nightstand on your side of the bed and your husband is nowhere in sight, so he must have gotten up with JJ in the night to make sure you could sleep. Sometimes he’s fussy for blood and sometimes for a bottle, but either way Max is able to take care of him.

They’re sitting together, father and son, at the table in the breakfast room when you come downstairs in your favourite old t-shirt and jeans after taking a steaming hot shower. Any chance to actually take a lengthy shower and feel human again is not something to be undervalued as a new mom, you have found.

JJ squeals happily at the sight of you and you sweep into the room to scoop him up out of his seat. “Hey Bud,” you croon, kissing his little forehead before leaning over to kiss Max as well. “Were you good for Daddy this morning?”

“Say ‘of course I was, Mommy’.” Max answers for him. “Nothing short of perfect, my son.” He winks at you playfully. “Takes after his father.”

“Mmhmm.” Even if you smirk skeptically, it’s full of nothing but love. “So that means he wanted blood last night, then?”

“So much that I’ve been thinking of creating a ‘Little Biters’ line of baby products.” He snorts jokingly. “The mascot of the line will be Cutie.”

“Mommy’s little menace,” you tease, placing another kiss on JJ’s head before moving around the kitchen to pour yourself a bowl of cereal. “I…had a dream last night.” Looking back over your shoulder, you shoot Max a meaningful look. “A family dream.”

“Really?” Max straightens up and his brow furrows slightly. He’s curious at the timing, especially since Emmanuel’s appearance. “What was it about?”

“Yayo had some messages to deliver.” Your grandfather’s mastery of the dramatic never ends. “I played cards with my grandparents and my parents and we talked.”

“Bridge?” Max asks, having spent many hours playing with your mother and grandmother back in the day.

“Of course.” The smirk on your face is because you got very good at the game over the decades. To the point where you were almost better than your abuela. “Dad and I switched out. Apparently he never quite mastered it the way you did.”

“Was this….a visit? Or a dream?” He asks seriously, knowing that stranger things are possible. He’s currently feeding one of them.

“It was a visit.” The distinct, you grant him, is important. “Apparently Yayo still has a little pull where it matters. Don’t I think this will be the last one.”

Max chuckles and shakes his head affectionately. “Of course the old bastard does.” He huffs.

“They told me they’re waiting.” The reality of it feels heavy, weighing on your shoulders like Atlas balancing the world. “They haven’t crossed over yet because they don’t want to leave Emmanuel behind.”

“That’s…sweet.” Max admits, his expression soft and yearning. He has been a little put out that he can’t see his old friend, but you have been enjoying talking to him. “Very sweet.”

"You know the old chestnut about ghosts having unfinished business?" With a bowl of cereal now in hand and enough milk to satisfy you, you sit down at the table with Max and set JJ back down in his own seat. "Mom says Emmanuel has to forgive himself so he can move on."

“Yeah?” Max shakes his head. “How are you going to convince him to do that?” He asks. “Although, telling him that Annie is waiting for him is a good start.”

"Hopefully being able to tell him directly from Mom that she has already forgiven him will give him the permission he feels like he needs to forgive himself." It's your best theory, anyway, and the fact that your friend has been so tortured over what happened for more than a century grieves you in a way you didn't know what possible. "Dad wants to meet him. Wants to wait for him, too. It’s...actually incredibly sweet."

“I told you it was.” He huffs at you playfully, reaching out and taking your hand. “Were you happy to see all of them together? Especially your dad? Since you didn’t get more time with him?”

"It was really nice to see Dad." To see him, to hug him, even if it was only in your dream. Dreams in your family have always been a little more intense anyway – but visitations are step above and beyond. "I think..." You glance up at your soulmate with a little grin. "Maybe we name the next little boy after him?"

“Next little boy?” Max perks up, considering you haven’t really talked about having more kids, and you had cursed him blue while in labor with JJ.

"I'm not saying giving birth was my favorite leisure day or anything." You snort at the idea, letting yourself enjoy a bite of your breakfast while you chuckle silently over the very idea. "But Yayo heavily implied a little insight into the timeline, and the fact that JJ will have at least a couple of siblings at some point."

“Can we start making them now?” Max asks, waggling his brows at you suggestively.

Shoving Max's arm playfully at the table, you make a soft if slightly non-committal noise at him and have another bite of your breakfast. You haven't been intimate since JJ was born and that's the longest you've gone in your entire relationship, but the doctor had been adamant that you needed time to heal and Max had agreed to follow medical advice without hesitation. "Let's see what the doc says when we get back to Newport," you tell him, that beaming grin overtaking your face again. "It took a hundred years to get JJ. Who knows how long we'll have to wait for the next?"

“That’s a hell of an age gap.” Max snorts, imagining JJ as a grandfather and becoming a big brother at the same time.

"It would be," you agree, laughing almost to yourself in silent little huffs. "Hopefully it won't take as long next time."

“Whenever you’re ready.” Max insists. He had even suggested wearing condoms when you were ready to have sex again.

"I love you." As many children as you many or may not have, as many different houses as you may live in, and as many decades or centuries as will ever pass between you -- this is the thing that holds it all together. The fuel that keeps your life going is right here at this table. And you can't help but be caught up in it a little when he slides his hand into yours and smiles. "Come on," you urge, pushing your cereal bowl away and nodding toward the belly of the house. "Come dance with me." It wouldn't be the first time he's twirled you around the dance floor at eight in the morning and you're sure it won't be the last, because the two of you never seem to tire of the waltz.

______

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[writerseclipse1]

four seasons of love [in progress]

"if i didn't love you today, then you would've already been six feet under.”

a joel miller x reader original series by @writerseclipse1

warnings: fluff angst and eventual smut, canon-typical violence, descriptions of blood and gore, mentions of murder and death, double-crossing, guns and other weapons, revenge.

summary: in a world of beauty hidden by the unknown, joel forgets that the most beautiful roses have the sharpest of thorns.

in which: you come into jackson without pure intentions, mind set on leading joel to his ultimate demise, yet something about him changes your objectives. unconsciously, he has you prolonging the time he has left before he faces his biggest threat: abigail anderson.

<<< 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... >>>

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book 1: spring in full bloom

ch. 1: a welcome arrival

ch. 2: help wanted

ch. 3: night out

book 2: in the summer heat

ch. 4: it's getting hot in here

ch. 5: under the sun's rays

ch. 6: the light of the truth

book 3: fall-ing in love

ch. 7: the fruits of your labor

ch. 8: ghosts of our past

ch. 9: the celebration

book 4: cold winter nights

ch. 10: baby, it's cold outside

ch. 11: absolution

ch. 12: cabin fever

epilogue

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‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ a/n: please fill this taglist form if you would like to be updated on the next chapters of this series! i hope u all enjoy the plot i have planned for u all :D

p.s. chapters will be labeled 18+ individually for those who still want to read but without the smut. thank you!