#their godparents know about my family and they offered to have me over even when my partner is away :( it made me cry a lot

[voiceshearingyouloud]

It makes me so happy that despite the fact that literally any other reminder of my life at the beginning of 2022 makes me feel like I’m back there in hell, but the playlist of songs my partner made for me that I listened to every single day has never made me feel anything but safe. My PTSD is so bad that even walking down the street and seeing the light of a streetlamp a certain way will trigger a flashback, but these songs are still comforting even though they are so attached to that time of my life for me.

[yaachtynoboat711]

Can We Talk?

A/N: Hey y’all! If I didn’t know any better, I’d suspect y’all really like Karis and Kevin, probably because we’re deprived of Kevin being happy on the show. School has been beating my ASS and had taken all bits of skill (writing included) from me. Hopefully, I can create more this summer! Anyways, I hope you all enjoy Karis and Kevin’s first date!!! Once again, shout out to @awerkofart for enabling this series! Love you 🥹.

Warning(s): Language, Drinking

Word Count: 2814

Like many other Milennials, one of the staples of Karis Brown’s social life was weekend brunch. Sunday Brunch, specifically, was for recapping the times of fun from the night before. However, this Sunday Brunch was no usual outing. It was a date with Coffee Bae, Kevin. He’d called her 20 minutes before to set it up and it was up to her to solidify an unforgettable second impression.

*buzz* *buzz* Incoming Group FaceTime Call from Sisterhood of the Traveling Scrubs

Loren and Jada were waiting on Karis to answer. “Heyy—oop! Hold on…,” Jada watched Karis as she propped her phone on a shelf, “…girl, what you got goin’?!” Loren brought her attention to the screen. Essence, Rose, and Rochelle all staggered into the group call, all shocked to see their friend searching for an outfit.

“Who you gettin’ cute for, bitch?,” Rose demanded. Everyone seconded her question.

Karis laughed to herself, “I never got a chance to bring it up, but I met a guy at Jahva on Friday. He asked me out for brunch, so I’m taking him up on his offer.”

“WHAAAAAT?!?!? Karis Zhanai Brown…going on a DATE?! He better be the finest man in the city,” Essence added, the girls agreed, “Does he have a name?”

“Kevin,” Karis replied fighting a cheesy grin. The girls had been Karis’s girls since med school orientation, but they still knew how to grind her gears. It didn’t make it any better that they were neighbors with key access to each other’s houses. They were going to be over there when Karis and Kevin returned from brunch. She was certain.

Karis paid her friends no mind as she changed into her sweatsuit. The girls threw out hypotheses and theories about this mythical Kevin. Little did they know, they were on mute as Karis tamed her coily hair into a half-up half-down style.

Karis finally unmuted herself as she laid her edges, “Y’all done?” Her friends looked to each other in silence, shocked that she’d just spoken after 5 minutes of unbridled chaos. “I just want to have a good time…for once. Let me just go to brunch and enjoy Kevin’s company. I appreciate the uproar around him, but let’s take this one moment at a time, aight?” Karis got up to pick out some shoes, “Sacai’s or Yeezy’s?”

Karis couldn’t remember the last time she’d been on a date. She couldn’t even remember going to a pleasurable business dinner. Studying and practicing medicine drained her of a social life and the opportunity to go on dates. Her family worked tirelessly for her to be the first doctor in the family, not be another wife. But this brunch date was different.

Karis sat in the car 10 minutes ahead of schedule, chest tight, and palms sweaty. Every social skill she possessed suddenly ceased to exist in this moment. She couldn’t even read the menu she’d just Googled. How amazing was the sight of the incomparable Dr. Karis Z. Brown herself—the surgeon that could do CABGs with one arm tied and repair carotids for breakfast—nearly hyperventilating at the thought of going to brunch with someone she met in her godparents’ coffee shop earlier in the week. “Get it together, mane,” she encouraged herself as she opened the car door to the slap of the sharp October Chicago wind at your face.

“What if she ghosts and makes me look like a fool?,” Kevin asked Kim as his leg bopped to the beat of the overhead music.

“Based on what you’ve told me about her, she doesn’t sound like the ghosting type. Besides, she’s 5 minutes early. Just breathe, Kev,” Adam instructed him over the phone. “Hey…,”he caught his attention, “…she might be as nervous as you are, if not more. The way you talked about her yesterday, it sounds impossible that she’d flake. Go enjoy yourself.”

Just as the call disconnected, the elevator door opened, revealing a nervous Karis looking down at her phone. Kevin’s face lit up as he saw her walk towards him in her khaki sweatsuit, brown fleece coat, matching chocolate Telfar, and Yeezy Foam Runners. She noticed his jeans, grey hoodie,navy flannel shirt, and wolf grey retro Jordan 12s.

The two embraced for the first time ever. She wasn’t certain of the cologne he wore, something with tobacco…maybe musk and leather… but whatever it was made her melt into his embrace. Lord, he smelled like a grown ass man.

After reluctantly pulling from his embrace, he offered Karis the seat in the booth. “A gentleman,” she complimented. The smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth spread to a full smile.

Karis got a corner glance at his shoes before he sat down, impressed at his shoe choice, “It could be my exhaustion, but are those the wolf grey 12’s?! They’ve been sold out here since I’ve moved here.”

His jaw dropped, “Girl, what you know ‘bout that?! Lemme find out you a sneaker head and a surgeon?!,” he remarked.

She threw her hands up, “Guilty as charged. It’s like the one thing that keeps me sane.” Karis felt her gapped smile betray her once again as she nervously fiddled with the gold necklaces around her neck. Kevin took notice; he was already entranced by her smile. He bit his lip, thinking of what to say next. The waiter coming to send the mimosa and water carafes gave him enough time to conjure something.

He looked at the caduceus and anatomical heart necklaces, “You always knew you wanted to be a heart surgeon?”

Karis glanced down at her heart necklace, shaking her head, “Nope. Wasn’t even in the cards until my med school rotations.”

Kevin’s eyes bucked open, “For real?!”

“I initially wanted to be a trauma surgeon or in sports med,” she admitted, filling both stemless flutes with passion fruit mimosas.

Kevin took a sip, noticing the potency of the drink, “So…shit that’s strong…what was that ‘a-ha’ moment?”

“My mom. She’d gotten sick from past trauma and I almost lost her. She had a cardiac tamponade—fluid from a sac in the heart fills the veins and blood and decreases oxygen flow, amongst other things. I wanted to help find a cause and solutions for her, so I went deep in my cardio books and found something. It saved her life.”

“I take it you and ya moms close?”

She pondered, “I’m her only child and there was a point that we were all we had. With everything we went through, we became trauma bonded.”

Kevin didn’t think he and Karis would have somewhat similar upbringings. His raising himself and later his siblings in Chicago and her being basically raised in Memphis by her mom before she met Karis’s stepdad. He had her figured out until they conversed.

It was easy to talk to each other. The conversations with one another felt familiar, as though they’d been friends for ages. With the aged feel of those conversations came the novelty of learning about one another. Karis quickly learned that Jordan and Vinessa—Kevin’s siblings—were the center of his universe. He showed her pictures of them, the smile on his face getting brighter the more he talked about them. In the same vain, Karis’s nieces and nephews (her step-sister Mary Margaret’s kids) were the lights of her life. Karis showed him the picture of her, Mary Evelyn, Luke, and Jacob at Jacob’s baptism. They were her “loaner kids” whenever she was back in Memphis.

Kevin’s gears began turning. He noticed how much Karis was active in church, based on the baptism picture and the mention of receiving Eucharist earlier this morning. He had to ask, “You Catholic?”

She huffed, “Close. Episcopalian. My mother is married to the Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of West Tennessee. Charleta Duncan, the blackest of women, married the whitest man in all of Memphis, Patrick O’Doughtery Brown. Yet it somehow works,” she caught herself holding back a loud laugh. Kevin laughed with her.

Karis finally checked her phone, which revealed that an hour and a half had passed. Where did the time go? Karis also saw the group chat was abuzz for updates and her whereabouts. Loren and Essence were asking for Kevin’s Social Security number, while Jada asked for his dental records (ironic since she was a DDS) and most recent background check. Karis prayed an “I’m fine. Lemme have fun” reply would suffice.

The DJ had been playing 90s R&B all day. Banger after banger after banger, people found themselves dancing in between tables and singing their hearts out.

Then it happened. She heard the three piano chords and 808 beat of her favorite song, Can We Talk, and that was all she needed to hear. Karis dramatically dropped her phone on the table, hands high in the air as to submit to the beat of the song.

“Girl whatchu know bout this,” Kevin joked as he watched her dance in her seat.

She didn’t respond. Karis waited for the lyrics to start. As Tevin Campbell began to talk his shit, so, too, she began lip-syncing to the words. Kevin, also singing, scooted out of the booth. He reached out for her hand saying, “Let’s talk then, mamas.” Karis accepted his offer, sliding out of the booth.

“Lemme show you how to step,” he offered. He took her free hand into his. He began twirling heg around, while moving his feet front, back, front, side, side, left, and right. She did her own combination, surprising Kevin.

He twirled her away from him, “I thought surgeons couldn’t dance,” he pulled her back in close.

“You ain’t met one from Nawf Memphis with an uncle and aunt in Chicago, mane,” she retorted. The pair continued stepping, working in tandem with the rhythm. He maneuvered her away and close to him while still singing with her.

They sang the final bridge at the top of their lungs. Everyone else in the restaurant became a choir as they all sang aloud. As the song ended, Kevin escorted Karis back to the booth. Luckily for them, the waitress had finally appeared with their entrees. Kevin remarked about the fun he had and how ready he was to eat. Karis seconded.

As Kevin ate the sample of salmon and eggs she offered, she found the right moment to ask, “Y’know, you’ve asked a lot about me. I wanna know about you. If you don’t mind me asking, what do you do for a living?”

He choked on a piece of egg, “I’m a uh…business consultant,” he replied after gathering himself.

Her gut turned as he replied, “Is that your final answer?” He knew she knew something. Not quite that he was an undercover cop, but something.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“What’s your life goal?,” she asked without skipping a beat.

Kevin pondered, “Being a househusband.”

“You’re joking,” he wasn’t. There was a smirk held back, but he was about 45% serious.

“I mean, you’re a surgeon. Jackpot, right?,” he winked and licked his lips.

Karis re-adjusted herself, tilting her head before she spoke.

“To call yourself a househusband implies that we got married; to be married implies that we were betrothed; to be betrothed implies that were courted; to have courted implies that we went on other dates besides this one. Correct me if I’m wrong, Mr. Atwater, but it appears that you’re enjoying yourself and want to go on a another date?,” she observed as she downed her final mimosa, proud of her Sherlock-level deduction skills.

“Somethin’ like that. I do like being around you and I’d love to see you again,” Kevin offered her another bite of his chicken and red velvet waffles as he looked at her, clearly flustered at his charm and suave nature.

“I’d love a second date.”

He insisted on following her back home. He was concerned for her safety and wanted to see his date get in the house. He jogged to her door from his Hellcat, being sure she didn’t touch the handle. After the fight over the check (which she won), the least he could do was open Karis’s door. Karis usually went through the garage into the house; but since she had an audience in the foyer, it was her obligation to give them a show.

Karis led Kevin through the pathway in her front yard to the door. The rustled curtains confirmed Karis’s suspicion of nosy ass friends awaiting her arrival.

Kevin looked behind his date to see curtains rustling, “You must have someone over expecting you.”

Karis kicked the front door and adjacent wood panel, an attempt to shoo the girls away, “Oh, Kev, don’t pay they nosy asses no mind,” she said loud enough for them to hear inside. The two of you guffawed. The fact there were doctors listening to their friend’s conversation behind the door and foyer wall was so childish, yet comical. In the midst of the laughter, Kevin found her hands and held them between the two of them. Smooth fucker.

Once more, their eyes connected and simultaneously bit their lips, smitten with each other in the moment.

There was an obvious connection between the two love birds. For once, they mutually felt a sense of relief to be themselves. How is it that two strangers that met in a coffee shop by happenstance, were already so close after one brunch date? The romantic tension around them was nearly physical. It seemed as though they couldn’t be too far away from each other. Every once in a while, two people meet and in that initial meeting, it’s apparent to the Universe that they are meant for each other. They weren’t able to put their finger on it immediately, but this was Kevin & Karis. For once, they were able to enjoy someone’s company and immediately want to go somewhere else before their first date ended. They were destined.

“Karis, I really enjoyed you today. Seriously,” Kevin flashed a smile that made Karis’s feel an unfamiliar warm sensation radiate through her body.

“Same here, Kev. This was a breath of fresh air. We should do this again. Hopefully soon?”

He gently placed his large hand over her chin, peppering her lips with a meaningful, yet brief kiss, “Yeah. Real soon. I’ll holla atcha when I get to the crib?”

The sensation of his kiss, though temporary, weighed on her lips. She’d gone a hot minute without a kiss on the lips, yet his satisfied the long-ignored absence.

“Yeah,” was all Karis could muster.

He flashed one last wink before ducking into his Hellcat and driving off.

Karis couldn’t focus on getting your key into the door. Between the kiss, the cold, and the mimosas, she was literally stuck. After struggling to turn the key into the ever-moving lock, her friends were pushed out of the way by the 70+ year-old wooden door. Karis silently made her way to her usual spot on the L-shaped sofa. The girls filed into their usual seats in the den, all grinning with anticipation to ask about the date, parts seen and unseen. The minute Karis looked up, they all shrieked, startling her. “Don’t start allat bullshit, now,” Karis warned as she took her bra off, sighing in relief.

The warning went unanswered; the girls attacked their slightly buzzed friend with a group hug, to which she immediately swatted away.

“GIRL!,” Essence began, “He is FOINE AS HELL! Look at you!”

Loren added, “I gotta say, Kare, you did good. The fact I’ve never seen him before shows me that you’re real good. You gotta tell everything! I mean…ev-ver-ree-thang!”

Karis recalled what she could, from the call to the kiss. The whole time, she grinned, showing how smitten she was with Kevin. Seeing her elated made them happy. They knew the insecurity she had about being alone.

A few hours passed and everyone had returned home to get ready for work. Karis showered, did her nightly skincare routine, and prepped her work bag. Finally in bed, she turned to cut her bedside lamp off.

As if on cue, her phone buzzed. Kevin was trying to FaceTime.

“You must’ve seen me get in bed,” she jokingly answered.

Kevin chuckled, “Nah, just calling to let you know I got home 40 minutes ago. I had to help Vinessa with somethin’ and forgot to call you.”

“Oh really?,” she yawned, “Welp, I gotta be at Med at 4:45 a.m. for a surgery. Talk to you afterwards?”

“Sounds good, mamas, sounds good. Night.”

“Night, househusband-in-training,” she concluded, both laughing at her recall of their new inside joke.

Karis chuckled to herself as the sounds of crashing waves lulled her to sleep.

Kevin is going to be here a while.

DAAAAAAMNNNNNNNN! TAGLIST GOT ME PARKED IN DOWNTOWN AT-LANNUH 😭

@muse-of-mbaku @kumkaniudaku @goddessofthundathighs @mbakusthrone @mbakuwife @crushed-pink-petals-writes @forgottenthoughtsandmemories @jackburtonsays @randomwordprompts @bakarilennox @wakandan-flowerz @blackpantherreblogs @ljstraightnochaser @babygirlofwakanda @eerythingisshaka @turn-thy-paige @darqchilddaydreamz @doublesidedscoobysnacks @wakandas-vibranium @oshasimone @destinio1 @sonofnjobu @teheeboo @itsjustyazz @chaneajoyyy @lovelynervouschaos @katasstrophey @mareethequeen @jozigrrl @jellybean531 @awerkofart @storibambino @blackgirloneshots @royallyprincesslilly @certifiednatural

[jadagul]

I really liked this post on being a good conversationalist. Adam Mastroianni sets up a dichotomy between conversational givers and takers: "Givers think that conversations unfold as a series of invitations; takers think conversations unfold as a series of declarations." Stereotypically givers are "good conversationalists" and takers are bad and selfish, but this isn't really true.

It's easy to assume that givers are virtuous and takers are villainous, but that’s giver propaganda. Conversations, like improv scenes, start to sink if they sit still. Takers can paddle for both sides, relieving their partners of the duty to generate the next thing.

What matters most, then, is not how much we give or take, but whether we offer and accept affordances. Takers can present big, graspable doorknobs (“I get kinda creeped out when couples treat their dogs like babies”) or not (“Let me tell you about the plot of the movie Must Love Dogs…”). Good taking makes the other side want to take too (“I know! My friends asked me to be the godparent to their Schnauzer, it’s so crazy” “What?? Was there a ceremony?”). Similarly, some questions have doorknobs (“Why do you think you and your brother turned out so different?”) and some don’t (“How many of your grandparents are still living?”). But even affordance-less giving can be met with affordance-ful taking (“I have one grandma still alive, and I think a lot about all this knowledge she has––how to raise a family, how to cope with tragedy, how to make chocolate zucchini bread––and how I feel anxious about learning from her while I still can”).

As a serious Taker, this makes me feel good, but it also matches my experiences. A lot of people like someone to do most of the talking and drive the conversation—as long as I say interesting things, create spaces for them to participate, and don't plow all over them when they have something to say.

[amandaoftherosemire]

No, Thank You

TW: Religious trauma

So, a friend irl of mine is, once again (this happens all the time and I hate it), dealing with harassment from “Christians” and I feel feelings about it. (Btw, WWJD? Maybe not be a huge dick. Seemed like a chill guy to me when *I* read the gospels.)

There’s this funny thing that’s been happening to me for as long as I can remember. Since I was too young to read, I have been given “literature” explaining to me god’s great plan by Christians of all stripes and denominations. First, it started with my mother’s family. I can still remember the red script of the title against the oddly grained yellow book cover that said “My Book of Bible Stories” or something to that effect. It’s the McDonald’s color scheme that sticks with me, not the title, clearly. I would receive countless more books like these from that side of the family. Even though my mother, herself, had been forcibly ejected from that particular sect of Christianity, and had chosen not to return, still they sent me books, and letters, and propaganda, trying to, supposedly, save my soul.

The attempted indoctrination didn’t stop there. My parents put me in Catholic school in kindergarten, where I stayed until the school insisted that I be baptized and assigned godparents. My parents were okay with me exploring any religion I wanted, but my mother’s experience had taught her that I should be of the age of reason before I made any decisions about my religion. My mother was baptized at twelve, and she believed that was a mistake. She thought that she had been too young to know what she really believed and Young Sharon had made promises that Adult Sharon couldn’t keep. But she never prevented me from exploring such things. I went to Sunday School with a friend in third grade, went to the Wednesday afternoon bible study at the church next to the elementary school. I went to Catholic church with my best friend in middle school any time I stayed over on a Saturday night. I even tried again in high school, with some very odd evangelicals that spoke in tongues and really weirded me the fuck out.

Somehow, my little circle of girlfriends going through our obligatory weird girl Wiccan high school phase seemed less weird than the girl in the church sitting on the floor, two inches from the wall, laughing at it. At least, on some level, we knew the midsummer celebration was more about the slumber party than anything else. Jaycelyn, please stop putting your toe up my nose.

As I got older, I explored other faiths, other cultures. I dipped into Buddhism, read the Tao Te Ching to touch base with Taoism, was exposed in college to Shintoism, Hinduism, Islam. Nothing touched me. Until I read atheist writers, who told me that it was okay to not connect. That it was okay that I couldn’t believe what was being offered. That there was nothing after death, and that I could cope with that if I wanted to.

When I was young, my search through Christianity was an attempt to belong somewhere. And in this society, this culture, the easiest way to belong is to go to church. But I couldn’t belong somewhere when I was simply going through the motions, pretending to believe. After my father died, my search became more desperate, more about a search for meaning, a need to mitigate my loss.

After many years, I have come to absurdism. There is no meaning, and it is absurd to search for it. Let’s be absurd. Who cares? It’s not like anything matters so we might as well have some fun with this. For some this is bleak, empty and cold. For me it is freedom, joy and dread in equal parts. But I no longer cringe away from the parts of life that hurt. Because life is pain. And joy, and fear, and love, and, and, and…

My point? At no point did anything that anyone else did or didn’t do convince me to convert to any religion. The books, the pamphlets, the in-person visits, or the constant harassment and bullying all throughout my formative years, none of it did anything but show me what was on offer. I politely declined, because what was on offer looked sad and empty to me. A life spent longing for the next. Thank you, but no thank you. I’m grateful enough for what I have.

To be fair, the constant harassment and bullying by Christians has only made it clear to me that most of them don’t really know what their religion is even about, so I can’t learn anything about the universe or meaning from them. If you want to know why I’m not a Christian, ask yourself if you’ve ever done anything that might be considered bullying or harassment to try to shame someone into it. If that’s how you believe your god wants you to act, I want nothing to do with you or your god.

I am an absurdist agnostic atheist. If you want to know what that means, I’m happy to tell you. But if you want to offer me something else, stop. I know what you have. I do not want it. If you have it, and it brings you joy, I am genuinely happy for you and I would never want to take that away from you. Stop trying to give it to me. I. DO. NOT. WANT. IT.

I have what I need.

[mavrintarou]

Once Again [4]

Paring: Suna Rintarou x you (f-reader) Warnings: None - maybe concocting too much drama? Summary: Your biological clock is ticking and Rintarou offers to help you...

T H I R D P A R T

.

Jacey and Junto’s funeral was lively.

They both came from small families but with many friends from all over.

You don’t have any more ‘shock’ in you.

Jacey and Junto were amazing hosts, keeping the party going and entertained. Even after their deaths.

Their funeral was truly a celebration of their lives. It was in their last will, per Jacey’s request that a DJ be present at their funeral and she provided a list of music to play.

Quietly but still audible, played Cardi B in the background along with the low chattering.

It was definitely not your usual funeral service.

You chuckle to yourself, some moments, it was unbelievable that she was really gone and some moments… it’s almost as if she still here with you.

You look down at the sleeping baby who held tightly onto your blouse. She must of have known something wasn’t right. The first few nights were hard for you both.

After hanging up the phone with Rin, you had to block his number for your sake for the time being. You had other things to worry about at the moment.

Renkoshi helped move and set up Kiera’s room in your new place. The room you had initially decided for your future baby.

That wasn’t the case anymore. You had Kiera, and that was good enough.

. . .

You gaze at the photo of Jacey and Junto smiling that was set up at the altar.

“What are you going to do with that?”

“I’m going to set it in Kiera’s nursery.” You answered Renkoshi. You handed the photo of Junto and him back in law school, “yours?”

“Yeah.” He accepts the photo, “can’t believe it’s been a few years since we graduated.”

Kiera’s cry takes your attention before you could respond back. Her grandma struggled to calm the baby and you hurry over. She hands the baby over to you and immediately, Kiera stopped crying.

“Are you already picky?” her grandma teased, she looks at you, “please bring her around, she is all I have left of my daughter.”

You pulled her into a side hug, “of course, nothing won’t change.”

. . .

Kiera lays asleep on Renkoshi’s chest while sitting in the rocking chair.

You organize Kiera’s nursery to fit the photo of her parents next to her crib.

“When you’re done, we should talk.”

You nod and walk over to them, pulling the ottoman to sit on it. “You want to go first, or me?”

He nods his head at you and smile, “ladies first.”

You exhale deeply, “I know we’re both her Godparents and as Godparents we have legal rights to care and be responsible for them.” You gaze at Renkoshi momentary before saying, “with Kiera settling here, it’s obvious she will stay with me most of the time. You are more than welcome to come pick her up and spend time with her whenever you want but there’s just one thing, I don’t want any money from you.”

Watching Renkoshi cuddle with Kiera soften your heart. Of the few times that you’ve encountered him after she was born, he would peek at her but never once held her.

Saito Renkoshi is handsome, you’ll admit that. He had dark hair with exquisite blue eyes that swooned many girls around campus. You all were in the same university and had a few requirement classes together but to you, Renkoshi was always the quiet kid that seemed to just follow whatever Junto and Jacey said. The four of you hung out together many times throughout college days but split off when they excelled further into the law department while you went to business department. Occasionally, you guys met up every Friday night for drinks. Since Jacey and Junto were already dating, you and Renkoshi were almost always mistaken as a couple as well on a double date.

He is a calm and quiet man, yet a fierce attorney. Junto once shown a clip of Renkoshi in court, it was almost like he was a different man in the court room.

After a few years out of college, Renkoshi only matured and aged handsomely. His once mop of dark hair is now short and styled. His preppy fashion is now strictly suits and ties and always looking sharp.

A few months ago, he showed up at long over-due dinner with a date, shocking you all. Nonetheless, you greeted his date with open arms. She was a newly graduate lawyer that they met at a conference. You caught Ren’s eyes many times that night and each time you smiled, mentally congratulating him on his new partner.

“Well, I guess it’s my turn?” His smile is charming yet gentle, “I just want to be clear with you that I am all in favor of Kiera staying with you because she is more familiar and comfortable with you than me.” His eyes hold yours, “it also makes more sense for her to be with you than with me. I don’t have much experience with babies as much as you.”

He shifts Kiera and lays her in his arms, still deeply asleep. He returns his gaze back to you, “you just said as her Godparents, we have to be responsible for them. If I’m letting you handle her 99% of the time, then how is it hardly fair that I allow you to take care of her physically and financially but I have no part in it?”

You groan internally, you had wished he would have allowed you to take rein and make this situation easier for your part. And for him.

Why couldn’t he just allowed you to take care of everything by yourself? You are more than capable of doing so.

“Renkoshi-“

“Ren.” He cuts you off, “everyone has always called me Ren but you. Please call me Ren.”

You exhale deeply, exhausted to the bone. “Ren,” you say softly and defeatedly, “and how would you like to take part in it?”

If he wants to be part of this, who are you to stop him.

“I only have two requests; I help 100% financially if you are going to be the one caring for her and I want to be by your side to raise Kiera.”

The words run in your head repeatedly and your head tilts in confusion. He meant as co-Godparents, right? Is that not what you guys will be doing? Did he think you were kicking him out of his Godparent role?

“Ren,” you mummer, “I don’t mean to offend you in anyway by saying that I’ll take care of Kiera 100%. I just wanted you to know that…” What you really meant was that he didn’t have to sacrifice his bachelor life to help raise a baby that wasn’t his.

“You feel that I shouldn’t have to feel obligated to help raise Kiera with you, right? Since she’s not my child?”

You made a face; one you make when you’ve been caught red-handed.

“But she isn’t yours either?”

Those words didn’t come out snarky, but truthful. Kiera wasn’t yours either.

“I know,” you admitted, “but you don’t have to feel-“

“I’m not feeling obligated, okay?” he sits up and scoots closer to you, “I don’t think you understand me, Y/n so I’ll be blunt with you. I want to do this whole co-Godparent with you.” His face nears your face, lips inches away from yours. “In other words, I want to raise her as my own just like how you are and with you.”

His deep blue eyes open and they pierce right into yours, “so don’t push me away, let’s do this together.”

. . .

A week later and Ren has spent every single evening having dinner with you and spending time with Kiera. He would put Kiera to bed and have one last cup of tea with you before he would leave for the night. It became the routine.

As Ren kept Kiera occupied in the living room, that gives you the opportunity to bag up the donated breastmilk he picked up at the hospital.

The stash of frozen breast milk packet from Jacey is running extremely low and Kiera’s doctor is opposed to switching her over to powder formula yet since she was smaller than most babies her age.

You leaned against the doorway of her nursery, watching Ren read to Kiera right before bed.

You leave and wait for him at the dining table with two cups of tea.

He settles in his usual spot across from you and sip his tea.

Your finger traces around the rim of your cup. “This has been on my mind for a bit,” you begin, “I don’t mind that you come over to spend time with Kiera and take her off my hands but,” your brain jumbles to find the right words. “I don’t want your girlfriend to get the wrong idea that you’re alone here with Kiera and I.”

His cup of tea settles back onto the coaster, his expression was unreadable.

Immediately, you added, “if you want to take Kiera away to spend time with your girlfriend by all means you are welcome to!”

His jaw tightens before looking directly at you, “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“You don’t?” you exclaimed, “that girl…”

“She was just a cohort.” He grins, “I just brought her to dinner to see what your reaction would be.”

Your brow raises questionably. “My… reaction?”

He settles both his elbows on the table and interlace his fingers. “Y/n, are you that oblivious to me?” He chuckles at your dumbfounded expression. “I have liked you for a long time now.”

“You’re kidding…” you blurted unconsciously and quickly shook your head to align your brain cells again. “I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

“You told Jacey once that you wanted to wait to get to your director position first before even considering settling down.” His voice lowers, “I have been waiting for you.”

. . .

[1 month later]

You hear faint voice chattering outside your office.

“… Ms. Y/L specifically ask to not be disturbed… I’m sorry Mr. Suna…”

Your eyes snap open.

It wasn’t a dream. You can hear the chattering outside your door.

That’s when you remember, you had not unblocked his number.

The voices get loser to your door.

“… I just need to see her…”

The door clicks and swings open. “Is she… here?”

You had asked to not be disturbed because you needed a nap urgently. Kiera wakes you up at least twice throughout the night for feeding, sometimes, she would be wide awake and wanting your attention.

“I don’t think she… left?” Secretary Oikano whispered, “maybe she went down to the daycare?”

“Daycare?” Rin repeated.

“Kiera is in the daycare here while Ms. Y/l works.”

You groan silently to yourself; your secretary is too comfortable with him.

The door closes and you sigh softly. Your eyes close again, you’ll let them run around for a bit.

“There you are," a voice whispered, rough callous hand cupped your cheek, “you've lost weight.”

You continue to keep your breath steady, and eyes shut.

Lips pressed against your forehead and your eyes open, “what are you doing here?”

He tells you that you lost weight, but he also lost weight himself.

Dark smudges are visible underneath his eyes.

He swallows, “can we talk?”

You gently pushed him aside to sit up and you point to the couch across from you, “go sit over there.”

He shakes his head, “I want to be next to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to be next to you.” It came out petty and childish.

His eyes flashed, “you don’t mean that.”

You rub the sides of your temple. “Just tell me what you want to say, get it over with.” You hesitated on saying the next part but did it anyways. Maybe it would have saved you both time. “I blocked your number because I needed to concentrate on Jacey and Junto’s funeral, sorry I forgot to unblock it. Now, say what you want to say.”

He settles on one knee, grabbing both your wrists. “Well, that explains why. I wanted to contact you other ways, but I didn’t want to make you angrier at me. I don’t know where you live now so I had no choice but to come find you here.” His voice is unsteady, “I don’t have anything relationship going on with Kazue, I promise you that. When I left for Tokyo, it was also for a fundraiser the whole Japanese men and woman’s Volleyball Association was invited to - that’s why I was there longer than a normal game. I don’t know why I failed to tell you that.”

You tug your wrists free, but he tightens his hold on them. “Before… all of this began between us, Kazue and I remain friends still after we broke it off. I had already asked her to be my date for this event a few months prior.” He sighs, “I didn’t cheat on you. I was just dumb and stupid for not telling you everything before I left that morning.”

You wanted to believe him.

“I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me.” He admits, “it doesn’t change anything, but I want you to know, I didn’t kiss her.

“She asked if we could give it a try again, but I told her that I want to be with someone else.” His hand shifts to hold your hands, “you, I want to be with you.”

You exhaled deeply.

“I was very oblivious to the articles. I didn’t - I didn’t think much of it until Miya asked me about it.”

Rin drops his head onto your lap, “please, forgive me.” He places your hand on top of his head, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Your office door burst open, startling you.

“Is mommy in here?”

Rin lifts his head off your lap and frown at you confused.

“Oh,” Secretary Oikano’s eyes widen, “you were here all along?” She looks at Rin, “I thought you were behind me all this time?”

She walks over with the baby and hands her over to you. Kiera is in the phase of spitting out her pacifier when she gets excited, excited to see you after spending the whole morning in daycare.

“Is this…”

You kiss her cheek and smile at the bubbly baby, “Kiera.”

The four-month-old stares at Rin with cautious eyes.

“You adopted her?”

“No,” you shook your head, “I’m her Godmother.”

Rin frowns, “Mrs. Oikano… called you mommy?”

You sigh, “I know, I told her to stop but she insists on calling me that.” You smile at Kiera who returns a gummy smile. “She can call me whatever she wants.” You grabbed her pacifier and she immediately suckled on it again.

“Mrs. Oikano,” you called, “can you take her back to the daycare for a bit.”

Once your office door closes, you stand up but don’t get very far when Rin catches your wrist before you could move.

“What do I need to do for you to forgive me?”

“Rin,” you grasp his hand, “there is nothing to forgive. You are free to do whatever you want, and you don’t owe me anything.”

“You said to me you felt cheated and that I gave you empty promises?”

You’re caught off guard, “that was just me talking nonsense at that time. I was vulnerable.”

“Is it not the truth though?”

Your eyes open to peer down at him, “truth or not, it does not take us back in the past to avoid this mistake.”

“Mistake?” He stood up, “are you saying, sleeping with me was a mistake?”

His grip on your wrist tightens when you tried to pull away. “Yes,” you gritted, “it was a mistake. Look at where we are now, we aren’t even friends now.” One tug and your wrist if free, “I was scared of this.”

“Scared of what?”

“Scared I allowed my feelings to screw things up between us. I can’t even look at you without being hopelessly and stupidly in love with you.” Tears burned your eyes and you let out a deep exhale. “You don’t need to give me a baby anymore Rin. I have Kiera now.”

“So,” his tone is low, “that’s it?”

“What do you want, Rin? I’m telling you that you don’t need to help me have a baby anymore. What more do you want?”

He rounds the corner of the coffee table and grip both your shoulders. “Have I not made it clear that I want to be with you?”

You’re pressed against his chest and for the first time in a while, you felt an instant relief and warmth in his arms again. You went against your head and brought your arms to hug him back.

“You crazy woman.” He mutters against the crown of your head, “you say I don’t need to give you a baby anymore… what if you are already carrying my baby?”

You push your head away to look up at him, “what?”

His eyes staring right back at you are soft and adoring, “Mrs. Oikano said you haven’t been feeling well, acting like a pregnant woman craving this and that and you’ve have been tired to the point you need a nap.” His fingers caress your face, “aren’t those signs of pregnancy?”

Your mind had completely overlooked it. Since the death of Jacey and Junto, all you could focus on is caring for Kiera and making sure her needs were met.

The thoughts of trying to conceive were pushed to the back of your head if not, completely obliterated.

You shook your head. You don’t want to get your hopes high. Too many negative pregnancy tests have broken your hopes and dreams.

You haven’t had your period since you last saw Dr. Lee. It never came. But she had also warned that going off the pills could cause irregular periods for the change and could take a few months to return to normal.

You also have been stress; stress is a big period delay factor.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” he asks softly.

Your hands immediately touch your abdomen, and you press on it.

And gasp.

Had you not realize it? Or is your mind imagining this hardness in your lower abdomen?

Was the sudden midnight craving the last few weeks a sign?

Could that be the reason why Kiera has been wanting to suckle your chest when she is hungry? It is said that babies could smell breast milk of expecting mothers.

“What?” Panic laced his voice, “what’s wrong?”

You look at him with the same panic in your eyes, “I should take a test.” Your heels spun and you hurry towards your desk to the draw where your bag lies. Inside your bag you had a few pregnancy tests.

Before you could hurry to the bathroom, Rin catches your wrist.

“Let’s go to the clinic and check,” he plucks the box of pregnancy tests out of your hand, “these have been giving us false hopes too many times. I want better and accurate tests done by a professional.”

You pondered, knowing he was correct on that. “I’ll… I’ll make an appointment with my doctor.”

“No,” he tells you gently and smile, your heart skips a beat or three. “We’ll go see my sister.”

You haven’t seen Suna Naoki in years, she is two years younger than you guys and was more social than her brother. You recall her expressing her interest in medical school.

“Rin, I have my own doctor.”

“I know, but I can get you in today with my sister.”

You laugh at his ridiculousness. “Rin, I don’t think that’s how it works. You can’t just demand a doctor to see you right now and expect it.”

He smiles, “yes, I can.”

. . .

There was no way to talk Rin out from seeing his sister. You made a quick call to Ren, explain why dinner tonight would be canceled with a lame excuse that emergency visit to your parents was requested.

Kiera lays asleep in her car seat as Rin carries her gently with one hand. The other hand holds onto one of yours, leading you to one of Nagano’s prestige hospital.

“Kiki works here?”

He smiles, proudly. “Yep, she completed her residency here a while ago and settled in the OBGYN department.”

He led you guys straight to Naoki.

Uneasiness begins to creep up on you, distracting you as you miss the woman standing before you. “Are you two finally together?”

Your head snaps up and you smile seeing the once a little girl now grown into a woman, “hey Kiki.”

“What’s this?” Her attention slips from you and huddles to peak at the now wide-awake Kiera. “Rinnie, you did not just call me and demand I see you and think I’ll forgive you for keeping your kid away from me?” She glares at her brother. “What would mom and dad think! You know they have been dying to have a grandchild from you!”

“Kiki it’s not what-“

Rin smiles at you and cuts you off, “isn’t she cute?”

You sigh deeply, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Kiki, we’re actually here for… another reason.”

“We need to know if Y/n is expecting?” Rin doesn’t hesitate to state the truth.

Naoki gasped, hands covering her mouth. “Already?!”

Your eyes closed and whined quietly. “There’s a lot of misunderstanding here…”

Moving to her office to explain the real story wasn’t much better, you had no idea if Naoki even heard anything you had to say. She was too busy cooing to Kiera.

“Kiki,” Rin calls, “focus.”

Naoki makes a face at her brother, “your dad is mean.”

She stands up, still holding onto Kiera and opens up a few cabinets before turning around to hand them to you. “Go the lab area over there and once you’re done, ring the bell and the lab technician will take care the rest of it for you.”

. . .

It felt like the longest wait time of your entire life.

Your hands fidget with Kiera’s burp cloth until another hand rest on top of yours.

“It’ll be okay,” Rin whispers quietly.

“What if… I am pregnant?” What if you were? It was already a handful taking care of Kiera alone…

Rin’s fingers interlace with yours, “look at me.” You exhale deeply before looking up at him. “I’ll be right beside you.”

You inhaled and exhaled and nearly jumped in place when the door of Naoki’s office opened abruptly.

“We’re back!” She sang, she took Kiera and to ‘give’ you and Rin some alone time.

And she wanted to show her off to her other coworkers.

“We have the results,” her lips firm and thin.

Kiera began fussing and you reach to take her. She quiets down once she’s in your arms and you kiss her head, looking at Naoki nervously.

Naoki pokerfaced didn’t help ease your anxiety and at last, she flips the sheet of paper over revealing your lab work. “Congratulations, you are pregnant.”

You quickly glance at Rin who sighs… in relief?

Kiera’s suckling on her fist diverts your attention to her, will you be able to provide her the attention she needs?

. . .

“What?” Rin examines your outreached hand.

“I should drive if I’m dropping you off.” He took control of your car on the way to the hospital, insisting you sit in the back with Kiera. You don't recall seeing his sports car.

He doesn’t hand over your keys to your SUV. “Let me come over.”

“No. What about your car?”

“I took a taxi to your workplace because I was determined to go home with you.”

Less than twenty minutes ago, if you had not just heard the news that is now going to change your life forever… you would have fought him. Verbally.

Your eyes narrow at him, “only because we need to have a discussion. Don’t try anything funny, you’re still not forgiven.”

His mouth curve, as if it’s funny. “But you said there was nothing to forgive?”

Your hand is in front of him again, “give me my keys?”

He flashed like lightning, pecking your lips before your brain could register. “Nope, get in the car.”

The drive was quiet. It gave you some free time to think. Naoki had asked you to return at the end of the week to next week for an ultrasound. Now you needed to free up your schedule for that as well as to see your primary doctor.

“So, why did you choose this place?”

You punched in the code to your keypad, “it’s more kid friendly, I got this place before Jacey and Junto’s death.”

You held the door for Rin to enter, who was carrying Kiera while still buckled in her car seat. “Just set her over there.”

As you secure the lock on your door something caught your attention from the corner of your eyes.

Dress shoes.

Next to Rin’s Vans.

“Who are you?” you hear Rin demand.

Whipping around you see Ren standing between the hallway to the bedrooms, with Kiera’s baby photo album in one hand looking at Rin who is holding Kiera protectively in his arms.

“I’m Ren, who are you?” Ren countered back.

.

.

.

> > > @yoitsseulgi @call-me-lulu @stffychn @allycalo-blog @sassy-cat-in-town @rintamours @misssugarless @kamalymaly @pluviophilefangirl @icelyn20 @samkysnks @multi-fandom-fanfic @jojowantstocry @purehoneydollop @otaku-explosion @boosyboo9206 @etherealtsukkishima (I tried to tag you) @beidouluvr @heizenka

E/n: so I've been asked many times how many parts... and at this point. I don't know. I'm now thinking 6.

[goggles-mcgee]

i’m really loving the Wish me Away au idea! Would you be up to writing about what the batfam does after seeing mari’s reaction to emilie and adrien?

Like an actually little drabble? Yeah sure! It'll be based off the headcanons from this post -> 👶

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Bruce couldn't remember having so much fun, he always loved to brag about his kids and show them off at work, but it was a little hard when it was 'Bring Your Kid To Work Day' and most of your kids worked with you. That's why he was so happy bringing little Marietta with him to Wayne Enterprises, he also brought Damian but Damian had wandered off to see what Dick did since, and he quotes, "I know everything about you father. If I am to be your successor it is only natural I familiarize myself with your work. I believe it would be beneficial for me to oversee Grayson's work ethic."

Honestly, Damian could have just said he wanted to see what Dick did but that was just part of Damian's charm. Before he had left, Damian had let Marietta grab his finger and give it a little shake which delighted her, if Bruce was not mistaken, Damian had even smiled before he said bye to the both of them. The boy had really grown to love Mari and Bruce could not be more proud of his son. Though, he had to admit, all of his children were absolutely enamored with the baby, not to say he wasn't, but Lord have mercy on anyone who dared mess with his baby girl. She would have an army behind her of overprotective brothers and sisters, and father and mother, and grandfather, and cow...and turkey...and dogs...and cats...and dragon bat....and semi-god things that called themselves kwamis...and two very very powerful almost godlike godparents (Diana and Clark.) Now Bruce didn't like to think about it but he did also have to add Mari's....friends to that list... i.e. some of his rogues, which yes was fucking bizarre beyond all reason, but some had even cut back on crime because of their friendship with his little mini-hero so that was a plus. Right?

Well that was a thought for another day, now he got to take his little girl around and take her into meetings, which was certainly going to be interesting, but Marietta always seemed interested in watching him work so he wasn't too worried. He packed her plenty of snacks along with her lunch that Alfred made, he made sure to pack her favorite toys and a variety of coloring books and markers and crayons. And of course he remembered to pack cookies for Tikki who was riding in the hood of Marietta's dress. Plus he made sure to pack a little first aid kid just in case, also another sweater for Marietta in case she got cold.

He liked to be prepared. Sue him.

First meeting of the day was with a Ms. Graham de Vanily. If his memory served right this was Emilie and not Amelie who he had spoken with in the past. Not for the first time he had to wonder what possessed their parents to name the identical twin sisters Emilie and Amelie, but apparently she had brought along her son as well so that made this meeting a little less awkward. He adjusted his hold on Marietta before he continued on his walk to his office where he would be meeting Ms. Emilie, he had hoped to show his daughter around more when they had arrived but he had actually forgotten about this particular meeting and so hadn't rescheduled it to a time when he would hand over Marietta to one of her brother's since they deemed it "unfair" that only he got to show her his work.

Honestly his boys. They were wonderful but boy did they get jealous of one another if Marietta gave one more attention than the other. He fondly remembered one family game night where all the boys were asking who Mari's favorite brother is and she had just been laughing at all the attention not really understanding and it was the first time Bruce had witnessed Damian giving someone a smile and opening his arms for a hug. Of course he had done it behind all his siblings backs and only Alfred and Bruce himself had seen it. It was a sight to see everyone's face when Mari giggled out a, "Dami!", and ran over to him. When everyone turned around he was back to his stoic face but he was hugging Marietta and she was snuggling herself against him but as he looked at everyone he gave them a small smirk. There was an uproar, a demand for a retest, but Damian wouldn’t have it and it had been one of the most chaotic nights in the Manor. Selina had been very entertained especially when Marietta somehow made her way out of the gaggle of children and waddled over to her and had climbed in her lap very clumsily before plopping herself down and making herself comfortable, almost like a cat Bruce had thought, before smiling up at Selina. Selina had just turned to Bruce and said in a complete monotone voice, “I would die for this child.” 

Him and Selina hadn't tied the knot yet so to say, nor had he proposed. They were trying their hand at dating again but he couldn't help the way his heart skipped and his mind conjured up images of tuxedos, lace, friends and family, cakes and kisses, and rings and vows exchanged, when his baby girl, his little Marietta looked up at Selina and called her Maman. Bruce wondered if she ever shared his thoughts, he almost convinced himself she did whenever he saw her melt and practically purr when Mari, or as Selina liked to call her, Kitten, would call her Maman. He could see the love in the older woman's eyes and he had no doubt in his heart that this time, they would work out, this time they would get their 'happily ever after' or whatever came close to it.

He was ripped from his thought when he heard his baby girl giggle at something Lucius said.

"Morning Lucius."

"And good morning to you Mr. Wayne. I see you brought the little one."

"Yes. I promised I would bring her but I must admit, the meeting with Ms. Graham de Vanily slipped my mind." Bruce sighed out.

"I guessed as much. Well if you want, I can watch the Little Wayne while you have your meeting." Lucius offered, of course Bruce trusted him to watch Marietta seeing as the older man also practically adopted Mari at first sight. He was basically another grandfather to her.

"Gampa Fox!" Marietta began before dissolving into her baby babble. She was getting very good at speaking. Honestly she was very smart for a two year old.

"That's okay Lucius, I want to bring her in. Besides if her brothers spot her with you they wouldn't hesitate to snatch her up before their scheduled times. If Ms. Graham de Vanily has a problem with it I will insist on a reschedule. It's not everyday I get some one on one time with Marietta." Bruce admitted.

"You know one day someone is going to say no to you despite your good looks, money and reputation. Fine. Head on in, our guest is already here, which by the way, I don't think she will mind Mari seeing as she brought her own son to this meeting." Lucius sighed but he gave Mari a little wave and pointed Bruce to one of the smaller meeting rooms they had in Wayne Enterprises.

"Aww Lucius you think I'm good looking?"

"Go."

"Yes sir." Bruce chuckled out with a brief wave before he made his way over to the meeting room Lucius had pointed to and gently rapped his knuckled on the outside door despite the room being visible from outside because of the large windows. He heard a feminine voice call out from inside so he entered,

“Remember your manners Marietta and if you need anything don’t be shy.” Bruce told his daughter softly as they walked in, he chuckled when she nodded enthusiastically. As soon as he caught sight of the blonde woman he put on his best business smile. “Ah, Ms. Graham de Vanily, so sorry to keep you waiting. I must admit that this meeting slipped my mind.”

“No worries Mr. Wayne, I don’t believe this will be long. I see you brought your daughter. I brought my son! Adrien say hi.” Ms. Graham de Vanily light-heartedly scolded her son and tapped his shoulder. When Bruce took his seat and placed Marietta on his lap he finally got a good look at them both. Both mother and son were blond, her son, Adrien was a teenager, from the looks of it he was 16 maybe even 17. When his mother tapped him on the shoulder he sat up straighter than when he was slouching so obviously he didn’t want to come. So why bring him then? 

“Hello Mr. Wayne, it’s an honor to meet you.” Adrien greeted him with a model smile, he had seen enough to spot them from the real deal.

“Likewise. Marietta, can you say ‘hello’ to our guests?” Bruce asked gently down to his daughter who was being uncharacteristically quiet. Usually she would already saying ‘hi’ and waving, maybe even trying to get a high five or hand shake. Though now she was hiding her face in his chest and hugging her backpack to her, she made a small noise like a whimper and Bruce was absolutely dumbfounded. His daughter had never acted like this before, not even with Joker for crying out loud yet here she was trembling and trying to hide herself in his arms. He didn’t know what was going on but his daughter was scared so he scooped her up and held her closer to him but she still tried to pull herself closer. Finally Bruce caught sight of Tikki inside Marietta’s open backpack and saw her antennae-like things pulled back and her eyes narrowed as the kwami glared at Ms. Graham de Vanily and her son, if he wasn’t mistaken she was even glowing a faint red especially as she stared at Adrien. Bruce didn’t understand what was causing these reactions but he did know one thing, he wasn’t going to make Marietta sit there.

“I apologize. She’s not normally like this, I think it would be best if I take her to one of her brothers if you don’t mind.” 

“Oh...no worries at all. I’m sorry if we scared her somehow.” The woman actually sounded genuine but Bruce wasn’t going to risk anything, especially with how her son actually looked at his daughter for the first time that they walked in there.

“I’m sure that’s not the case, but it will probably be best to take her to one of her brothers that way we can get through this meeting. I will be fast.” With that he was out the room and speedwalking down the hall over to Lucius’s office. “I don’t have time to explain but Marietta was acting strange around Ms. Graham de Vanily and her son and Tikki as well. Can you take her to one of her brothers please? Just inform me who and I will go pick her up after the meeting.”

Lucius on his part did his best not to ask questions knowing Bruce didn’t have the time but he did raise a brow that told Bruce he would be answering those unasked questions later. “Of course. I’ll go see what Dick and Damian are up to.”

“Thank you Lucius.” Bruce said sincerely before he made his way back to his meeting. He had questions too and they were all for Tikki, but there would be time for that later, now it was time for business.

__________________________________________

The meeting passed and all Bruce could think about was getting to Marietta. He checked his texts from Lucius that informed him that he did indeed leave Mari with Dick and Damian so he made his way over to the central security room knowing that’s where Dick would most likely be. When he got there he was relieved to see his baby girl laughing and playing with Dick while Damian sat on a chair watching, as he walked in the two boys stood up swiftly with Dick scooping up Marietta and angling her away from the door but when they saw it was him they relaxed. “Father, Lucius told us nothing, what happened?” Damian demanded.

“I’m not sure myself. Marietta started acting scared when we got in the meeting room with Ms. Graham de Vanily and her son Adrien.” Bruce answered.

“NO!” They all stared at Marietta in shock when she screamed and tried to hide herself in Dick’s chest, then they all stared at each other with wide eyes. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Etta what’s wrong?” Dick asked softly.

“No Adrien! No!” Marietta cried out. 

The air grew cold. Bruce could hear his son’s gasp and he wouldn’t be surprised if he did as well. “ طفل الخفافيش (tifl alkhafafish), you’re safe. This Adrien won’t harm you I promise.” Damian cooed to Marietta.

“الأخ الأكبر (al'akhu al'akbar).” Mari cried out wetly as she reached her hands out for him and he of course took her out of Dick’s arms and held her. 

“Tikki. Explain...please.” Bruce pleaded.

Tikki flew out of Mari’s backpack and sadly looked over at the girl before flying over to her and kissing the top of her head before flying and landing on Dick’s desk. “It’s...They are from her old life. Ad- He was her former partner...the one who wished her away. That woman shouldn’t be alive.” 

“He was the one to betray her?” Damian asked, his voice full of ice and steel. “Father I will be needing my swords. All of them.”

“Damian. No.”

“What do you mean no?” His son asked indignantly.

“Yeah what do you mean no?” Tikki asked with a tilt of her head, Bruce glared at her, she knew what she was doing.

“Tikki what do you mean that woman shouldn’t be alive?” Dick asked.

“Simply that. She was a corpse. No soul. Haw-Gab- The villain Mari had to face before, she was his wife. He wished for her life.” Tikki explained as though it made total sense to all of them.

“Yeaaaaah, you’re going to need to expand on that.” Dick said which made Tikki frown in confusion.

“While I do agree with that, maybe we should wait until we are at home to continue this conversation. You boys know how Tim and Jason will be if they aren’t informed about what happened. You boys tell them and I’ll take Marietta. We will continue on with our day, but if you see either of them lingering here alert me. I don’t want Marietta to have to interact with them at all if we can help it.” Bruce said as he gently took Marietta from Damian who looked like he wanted to do anything but give his little sister to his father.

“If I see them I have a right to defend Marietta.” Damian stated. “You can’t stop me.”

“Damian.”

“Don’t worry Bruce, at least he doesn’t have a sword on him.” Dick chuckled.

“Who said I didn’t? Was it Todd?” 

Bruce needed a break. Bruce questioned why he had so many kids not for the first time in his life. Bruce decided to ignore the fact his child admitted to having a sword somewhere on him and just did as he said he was going to do, continue his day with his daughter and if he held her a little closer to him than usual? Well it couldn’t be helped. 

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I know it’s not like the reactions yet but I am in the process of writing Wish Me Away so take this! XD

طفل الخفافيش (tifl alkhafafish): Baby Bat

“الأخ الأكبر (al'akhu al'akbar): Big Brother

[icerosecrystal]

Marijon - My Secret Older Sister

Her name is Marinette Amani Al-Ghul. Marinette is the first grandchild of the demon-head and the daughter of Talia Al-Ghul. She is also the older sister of Damian Al-Ghul by two years. Despite what others may think, both she and her brother came from the same man. Bruce Wayne. Although Damian has no idea who his father is, Marinette has known for eight years. Despite the young age of 12, she was an incredibly smart girl. She also possessed the ability to be happy and feel love. But not in front of anyone but her brother and sometimes her mother. She and her brother had a great relationship. They were always there for each other. Damian was there for Marinette when her grandfather Ra's would sometimes beat her for not doing well on a mission. And he would base it solely on her gender. Marinette was there for Damian the first time Damian had to kill someone. It disgusted him, but he continued doing it for the sake of his title.  

Then the day the League fell came. Slade had attacked when Ra's was showing the whole League to Damian and explaining that it would all one day be his. Marinette was standing behind them next to her mother. Ra's had told her mother to grab both of them and run. Marinette protected her brother throughout it all when suddenly, Marinette got shot in the stomach. She collapsed in pain. She saw her mother running back to them, so Marinette let go of Damian, who was looking at her worriedly, "Damian, my akhi, go run, save yourself. Tell Mother to take you to Father. I'll be fine."

Damian was crying now, "NO, I won't leave you, you have to come with me. Please don't leave me, ukhti."

Marinette smiled sadly. She then hugged Damian and kissed him on the cheek, "I love you. And I promise I will find you one day." She let go of his hand as Talia quickly grabbed his arm and lead him to the docks, glancing at Marinette once in worry.

Marinette was lying still for a little bit before she heard a voice say, "Tom, I found her!" Marinette turned her head to the side and saw her godmother, Sabine Cheng recently Dupain-Cheng, hurrying over to her, with her godfather Tom not too far behind.

When they reached her, they gasped at the wound in her stomach. Tom picked her up and quickly walked to the docks with Sabine following. "Where we going?" Marinette said her voiced slurring, herself only half-conscious due to the blood loss.

Sabine answered, "We're going to Paris. We had a house there just in case we ever had to escape the League."

Marinette nodded in turn before she closed her eyes, letting the exhaustion take over. "Good night," she heard before she was fully asleep.  

Marinette woke up to an unfamiliar scene. She tensed, but when she caught sight of her godparents, she relaxed, "So what's the plan?"

Sabine was the one who answered", Well, you aren't allowed to act like the devil in disguise." Marinette scoffed, but she didn't argue, knowing Sabine was right. She may be sweet with her family, but with strangers and acquaintances, she wasn't the nicest. "Also, you are going to be Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You are the daughter of two bakers, Tom and I, and you are a designer. You will also be clumsy and stutter a lot."

Marinette nodded in understanding, "Okay, but what about Damian?"

Sabine sighed, "You're just going to have to hope that one day you find each other again."

Marinette nodded in understanding. She then went up to her new room, ready to put on a mask for the rest of the world to see.

(Time Skip)

It was now the start of the tenth grade for Marinette. She was now thirteen-years-old, and she was ready to play her part of the clumsy baker's daughter. She took some macaroons for her new classmates and then walked outside. While she waited to cross the street, she caught sight of a man crossing the street. A car was heading right to him. Regardless of who she was pretending to be, she wasn't going to let a man get hurt. She ran and quickly pulled him to the sidewalk, effectively using it as an excuse to trip over her feet. She handed the man a macaroon and then ran to school.

At school, she sat down quietly in her seat. When a dark girl, with brown hair and auburn highlights, picked a fight with a blonde girl. The blonde girl was supposedly bullying Marinette. Marinette and the blonde girl exchanged looks, acknowledging that the girl before them was a load of bull. Marinette then found out that the blonde girl's name was Chloe, and she was a bully, and the other girl was Alya.

Marinette looked around the classroom, analyzing everybody.

She then heard a voice scream, "Kim!"

She looked behind her to see a big, burly blonde kid, look like he wanted to beat up somebody. The teacher then asked him, "Ivan, what is going on?"

The blonde kid replied, "It's Kim! I'm so going to get..."

The teacher then pointed to the door and shouted, "Ivan, go to the principal's office."

Before Ivan could stomp off angrily, Marinette spoke up, quite surprised by the way the teacher was handling things, "With all due respect Miss, you didn't even listen to Ivan's side of the story. It could be Kim that's bullying Ivan, but you're rather playing favoritism."

The teacher sputtered, not knowing how to react, "Who gave you the authority to question my teaching skills?"

Marinette smirked, replying, " Common sense."

Mrs. Bustier walked out of the classroom to calm down, pure fury clear on her face. That day she turned into Zombispect. When she kissed them, they would automatically obey and respect her. That was also the day Lady Spots and Chat Noir resided in Paris.

While Lady Spots was a great superhero, Chat Noir was an incompetent fool. Marinette hated him. He would always flirt with her and never get anything done. And in many cases, if he didn't get what he wanted, he would either threaten to quit or sit out. Marinette never told him, but she honestly thought that she did better in battle when he wasn't around.

In terms of her civilian life, Alya convinced herself that she was Marinette's best friend and that Marinette had a crush on Adrien. In actuality, Marinette's best friend was and is her brother, Damian, and Chloe. While Chloe was spoiled, she was also neglected by her parents, which made her act rather bitchy at times. And she for sure did not have a crush on the spineless Adrien Agreste. No one in the class knew anything about the real her. But her godparents and even Chloe, who knew a bit about her. But, the one person that Marinette wanted to talk to was her precious little brother. She needed to hug him, spoil him, and talk with him about everything. But most of all, she wanted to know that he was still alive and happy somewhere.

Marinette would cry herself to bed every day, hoping that one day she would see him again. Thankfully, Tikki was on her side.

(Time Skip of one year. This is after Volpina, but before Chameleon)

It has been two years since Marinette last saw her brother. Alya was still going strong, coming up with ridiculous plans for her to date Adrien. She was still a "clumsy" baker girl. And while designing was her supposed hobby, after about a month, she really got into it. What pissed Marinette off the most was that she had to wear pink, have her room pink, and wear pigtails. Why? Because it strengthened the fact that she was an innocent, little, naive girl. While it did help people underestimate her, it annoyed the heck out of her. She actually ranted to her godparents one day about how bad her appearance was, "How can one color be so bright?! How could anyone like looking at it?! Why the hell do these pigtails make me look like a short-ass baby?! I look like a fucking moron! Where the hell is Damian when you need him?!" It was about three days later when her question was answered.

Marinette had been walking around town when suddenly someone bumped into Marinette.  Marinette caught herself and caught the person she bumped into. But the words that came out of the person's mouth had her reeling, "Tt, what type of imbecile are you to be bumping into people on the street?" Marinette would know that voice anywhere. And sure enough, when she actually looked at the person that she bumped into, she was staring into the face of her brother. When he realized who she was, he let out a timid, "Marinette," that had Marinette practically sobbing.

When she found that her face was wet, she realized that she was sobbing, but she didn't care. Damian was alive. She strangled him with a hug, cooing softly into his ear once he too started crying. They stayed like that for a while before they released each other. It was then that Marinette saw the boy standing behind Damian.

She blushed when she noticed his features, black hair like her own, the bluest, purest eyes she had ever seen. He was wearing glasses that gave him a nerdy look, but his body begged to differ. He was very tall, probably 5ft 11, and had huge muscles that gave off more of a jock look. He had so many characteristics that Marinette felt insanely attracted. She snapped out of her thoughts and offered the boy a hand, "Marinette Dupain-Cheng, or Marinette Al-Ghul, Damien's older sister by two years."

He gave her a blinding smile that could rival the sun and then kissed her hand, "Jonathan Kent, Jon for short. It's nice to meet the sister of my best friend." The more she studied him, the more she realized that he looked familiar. It was then that she realized he was Superboy, the superhero Alya had been raving about last week.

Marinette blushed at him kissing her hand. She then decided to let her inner devil come out to play. Leaning closer, she whispered, "It's nice to meet you too. I hope that you have been nice to my brother. Because if I found out you haven't, I might get my katana and skin you. I know that you might be invincible, but with the kryptonite, which I do have, you would be weakened within a second. So make your decisions carefully." She then leaned back and watched how his expression changed. His face went from happy, to confused, to shocked, to scared, and the surprisingly, love.

He smirked, "Well, you are better than I expected." He then pulled out a piece of paper and wrote his phone number. "Call me, you're hot and a little devil, I like it." He then winked and gave it to her.

They both heard Damian scream, "KENT! Stay away from my sister before I skin you!"

Marinette giggled and took the piece of paper from him. She then asked, "You look to be about my age. Why are you with Damian?"

Jon replied, "I'm 15-years-old. So one year older than you. (I know that Jon is actually three years younger in Super Sons, but for this to work, Jon is three older, not younger. If you have any problems with that, fight me.) And Damian and I work together a lot. We're considered the Super Sons, so we're best friends."

Marinette nodded in understanding before suggesting that they all go to a coffee shop to talk. Damian and Jon agreed. Damian told Marinette all about their father, their brothers, and sisters, him being Robin. He told her everything. She offered him support and asked questions about their family.

When it was her turn, she explained how Tom and Sabine saved her and how she came to Paris. And how she is pretending to be a clumsy sweet girl who likes pink. (She wasn't totally over the whole pink thing along with the pigtails.)  That coaxed a laugh out of both Damian and Jon. But when she got to the part about Alya, Damian wanted to skin Alya. He was Marinette's best friend, not some dumb harlot. When she explained how she was Lady Spots, and Chat Noir had some major failings as a partner, it took both Jon and Marinette to hold him back. He continued trying to escape while shouting, "LET ME AT HIM, HE DARE FLIRT WITH MY SISTER!!! I'LL SKIN HIS SORRY ASS BEFORE RIPPING HIM INTO SHREDS AND DUMPING HIM IN A RIVER!" He then continued to explain exactly how he would kill Chat Noir. Marinette knew that he was capable of going through with his plan, so she distracted him by asking for his phone number so that they could stay in contact. Damian calmed down enough to give it to her.

When she realized how late it was, she gave a hug and promised to meet up with him for the rest of the week. She also promised that once he left Paris, she would stay in contact. She wasn't going to leave her brother again. She then went up to Jon and kissed his cheek before saying goodbye. She then turned around and went home. If she had stayed a second longer, she would have seen Jon blush and then touch the cheek that she kissed with his fingertips, a goofy smile adorning his lips. Although Damian wanted to keep Jon away from his sister, he supposed Jon was better than the mangy cat or the spineless model.

For the rest of the week, the three met up every day and did different activities. One day they went to the Lourve, another an arcade, the day after that a carnival, and so on. On their last day, they went to the park and then went for Andre's ice cream. When they arrived, Andre greeted Marinette, "Bonjour Marinette! Would you like a sweetheart ice cream."

"Oui Andre. This is my brother Damian, and his friend Jon." She then turned to the boys, "Andre is the sweetheart's ice cream maker. He essentially gives you icecream based on the characteristics of your soul mate. Damian, how about you go first."

Damian stepped in front of the cart, "Ah, Damian, one scoop of violet and honey for her eyes, coconut ash for her hair, and cherry for her mysterious and complicated past. Here you are." (There is actually such a thing as black ice cream. It's made with coconut ash that people sometimes flavor with burnt honey vanilla.)

Damian took the ice cream and looked at it. He then realized that it looked like Raven, his crush. He blushed. "Ah, I see the love fair and true. I suppose you know who is right for you?" Damian nodded and started eating his ice cream, a small smile gracing his lips. He then paid attention to his sister and his best friend. They were now getting their ice cream.

Andre looked at the two and said, "Ah, but here's the truth, the two of you are the right match. You complete each other just like one, so come, let Andre supply you with love." Marinette and Jon were both surprised by the turn of events. But they both just blushed and agreed. Andre then said, "Blueberry for both your eyes, strawberry for her lips, cherry for his secret, and cotton candy for your personalities. Enjoy!"

Jon and Marinette waved goodbye and then ate their ice cream. They were still surprised about the turn of events. Neither knew what to say to the other until picked up some courage and asked, "Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

Marinette was surprised but agreed. They shared a chaste kiss. They then heard Damian gagging in the background. They broke apart, and Jon raised an eyebrow, "You're one to talk. I saw your ice cream. It really represented, mmph." Damian covered Jon's mouth before he could blurt out the name of his sweetheart.

"Kent looks like it's time to go! By the way, if you hurt my sister, I won't hesitate to kill you." He then dragged Jon off, leaving Marinette to chuckle to herself. The next day, she said goodbye to Damian and Jon. She gave them both a quick hug along with an extra kiss for Jon. She was so happy that she had found her brother again.

(Time Skip of three years)

It has been three years since Marinette bumped into Damian and Jon in Paris. The two visited whenever they could, the same with Marinette. But they never told their families. Marinette didn't tell her family because they didn't know she was Ladybug. Damian didn't tell because he wanted his sister to himself. Jon didn't tell because the other two didn't. Jon's and Marinette's relationship was still going strong. They loved each other very much. Jon loved how playful and happy Marinette could be, but she wouldn't hesitate to kill anyone. She was his little devil. Marinette loved Jon because of how pure and sunshiny he was. She loved how he cared for her and was always there for her no matter what. Damian actually started a relationship with Rachel Roth otherwise known as Raven as Andre's ice cream had indicated all those years ago.

During the three years, many things had changed, though. A girl named Lila came and turned everyone against her except Chloe. Marinette pretended that she was sad, but really she was ecstatic that she didn't have to hang out with morons anymore. She found Lila quite pathetic. Lila let others do her dirty work for her. She hid behind lies and morons. Marinette never found her as a threat.

She also defeated Hawkmoth a year ago, but it was because he surrendered. So, she didn't take him to jail, she made him donate thousands of dollars to people who needed therapy from the akumas and do community service. He agreed, so she let him go. She was glad that Gabriel Agreste had learned his lesson.

Yeah, for the most part, everything was going fine, she wasn't stuck with morons, and she had her brother and boyfriend. Until her brother and significant idiot forgot that her bio family didn't know about her.

It was the end of another shitty day for Marinette. She collapsed on her chaise. She looked at the time and realized that it was time for her's and Damian's video calls. She groaned before getting up and getting her phone. She dialed his number before waiting for him to pick up. Once he did, she saw that Jon was with him. They all talked together animatedly. What Damian and Jon forgot to do, was make sure that the Bat-family didn't come back from patrol while they were still on the call. But naturally, the two idiots forgot.

So, two hours later, when the three were still talking, they didn't realize when Jason came into the room. They only did when Jason screamed, "Demon Spawn and Supes Junior are talking to a girl on the phone!" This alerted the rest of the Waynes, so they all ran into Damian's room. When they entered, they were met with quite a sight. A confused Jason was watching a small pixie-like girl screaming at Jon and Damian in what seemed to be Arabic, Urdu, Russian, English, French, Spanish, Romanian, and Greek.

Once she calmed down, although she was still glaring at the two boys, she introduced herself, "Hi, my name is Marinette."

Dick asked her, "What's your last name?"

Marinette replied, "It depends on who your asking. Here in France, I would be Marinette Dupain-Cheng. In the league, I would be Marinette Al-Ghul. But, my real name would most likely be Marinette Wayne."

Jason yelled, "Your married to Demon Spawn!"

Marinette scowled, "No, Tt, are you always this incompetent? I am Damian's older sister by two years. I am also Jon's girlfriend of three years."

Bruce took a deep breath and pinched his nose, "And the reason none of you said anything was because?" He looked directly at Damian when asking the question.

Damian snapped, "I didn't want to share my beloved sister. She is too good for you imbeciles. She is also too good for Kent. But Kent is better than the mangy cat or the ugly model."

Everyone looked at Marinette confused except for Damian and Jon. She quickly shook her head, "Don't ask. If you want to ask me some questions, I'll be there in a minute."

Damian realizing that she was going to use the horse miraculous to transport to Gotham quickly said, "Wait, no, don't!" But she had already ended the call making Damian curse in Arabic.

Seconds later a portal appeared and a girl stepped out. She then spoke, "Kaalki, dismount." A flash appeared around her and they then saw the same girl on the phone now in front of them.

This left Wayne's gaping, while Alfred asked, "Mistress Marinette, would Kaalki I assume, need anything?"

Marinette replied, "Oui, she prefers sugar cubes to recharge. Merci, Alfred."

Then Jon got up and shouted, "My little devil!"

"Sunshine", Marinette exclaimed in joy before kissing him with full force. He kissed her back passionately. She placed her arm on his shoulders while he held her waist and lifted her a little off the ground. After a little bit, there was an awkward cough that reminded them that there were others in the room. They gave each other one more peck, before reluctantly pulling away. Although, Jon's arm was still around her waist. Marinette tried to not focus on the aching in her chest that was telling her to pounce on Jon and smother him in love and kisses while he did the same to her.

Marinette sighed and tried to focus on the situation at hand, "It's nice to meet all of you. My name is Marinette Al-Ghul Wayne, and I am Damian's sister as mentioned."

They all stared at her strangely until Tim asked, "Are you sure you grew up with Damian, or that your mother is Talia Al-Ghul? You seem a lot more different from Demon Spawn."

She smirked at them viciously, "First of all, I am for sure Damian's biological sister. Second of all, I may seem like an angel, but I'm the devil in disguise, hence Jon's nickname for me. Third of all, I'm not as arrogant as Damian because Ra's was always abusing me since I was a girl. So, I am a lot worse than Damian, I just don't show it."

No one knew what to do with this information. Sure Damian already knew about the beatings, but no one else did. They stared at her in worry, but she just waved them off, "Don't worry about me. Ra's is dead, I'm living with my godparents, and I'm happy."

Damian then rose an eyebrow, "What about your moronic classmates?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you. This pathetic girl who threatened to take my friends away, made it so that no one talks to me anymore. So, yay! Oooh, also I should probably explain my life to you?" She then went on to talk about everything, how her life was at the league, what happened when Slade attacked,  her life in Paris and when she became Lady Spots, how she met Damian and Jon, what happened after that.

By the end of her story, everyone looked like they wanted to kill her classmates and Chat Noir. Well, almost everyone. Bruce was on the ground muttering to himself, "Why, why, why? I just wanted one of my kids to not be a superhero. Is that too much to ask for?"

While Bruce had his breakdown, Tim asked her, "Did you defeat Hawkmoth?"

"Yeah, I did. He surrendered, so I let him off with some requirements in place. I actually was thinking of doing something to expose Lila. As much as I hate the morons, their future will be horrible if they keep on listening to that pathetic bitch."

Damian looked at her curiously, "What were you thinking?

"You are going to invite my class to the Wayne Gala. There we are going to introduce the whole family, including me. Damian, you are going to bring Raven. I'll bring Jon obviously. If we disprove that she knows the Waynes, the rest of her lies will come crashing down." Everyone smiled obviously pleased with the idea.

So they spent the next month getting the gala together. They organized a contest that Bustier's class won. During the month, the Waynes got to know Marinette. While Damian did have a problem with sharing her, everyone still go to know her. They were officially scared of her after she won after sparing against everyone and then cussing at Damian in many languages. It made Jon fall more in love with her though.

Another problem was that the Waynes would walk into Jon's and Marinette's make-out sessions all the time. Once, Jon, had Marinette pushed up against a wall and he was kissing her passionately. Marinette had her hands in his hair, one of them playing with the ends of his hair. She had taken off his shirt and was kissing down his neck. Jon had groaned and had stopped her so he could kiss her neck as well making her moan in want. He was whispering about what he wanted to do with her at the same time. Through dazed eyes, Marinette looked up and finally saw her family looking at her, both Damian and Bruce had their jaws clenched. When Jon noticed them, he quickly let go of her. Dick, Jason, and Tim started laughing, cooing, and teasing them, making Marinette hide her head in his chest. This made Damian launch himself at Jon, but before he could, Marinette had already disarmed him. She screamed, "Don't hurt my boyfriend, Damian." He just huffed, but let it go. From then on, they made sure to lock the door.

It was finally the day of the gala. Marinette saw all of her classmates. They mostly looked nice, but Lila was wearing an incredibly revealing dress.

It was then time for the reveal. Bruce went up to the stage and announced, "Good evening, everybody. I am pleased that you could all attend. Today, I would like to introduce all of my children along with their significant other. To start, my oldest son Richard Grayson, also known as Dick Grayson along with his wife Kori Grayson."

(Bruce's suit)

(Dick's Suit)

(Kori's Dress)

"My son Jason Todd."

(Jason's suit)

"My son Tim Drake."

(Tim's suit)

"My son Damian Wayne with his girlfriend Rachel Roth."

(Damien's suit)

(Rachel's dress)

"Finally, my new found daughter, also Damian's biological older sister Marinette Wayne. With her date Jon Kent."

(Marinette's dress) 

(Jon's suit)

When her classmates saw Marinette they started screaming insults. She just raised an eyebrow at them, "Is there a problem?"

Alya yelled, "Yeah there is. You're not a Wayne, you never told me that you were."

Marinette replied, "We were never best friends so I was under no obligation to tell you anything. I am a Wayne. I just lived with my godparents in Paris until my dad found out about me. I am dating my handsome boyfriend, Jonathan Kent. I have given you so much proof. How about you question Lila. She claimed that she was dating Damian. Damian is two years younger than her and he is dating Rachel. She isn't close to the Waynes, I am. So, stop questioning me and question her."

Everyone looked at Lila, but she was incredibly pale. That showed everyone that she was lying. They started yelling at her. Bruce then spoke up, "Security, escort this class out of the gala." As security did so, no one stopped yelling at Lila.

Marinette and Jon then turned to the reporters and Marinette said, "Five questions go."

She pointed to one reporter, "Where do you live?"

"Paris like I mentioned earlier."

She pointed to another, "How old are you?"

"I am 17-years-old, almost 18."

She pointed to a third one, "Were you surprised about being a Wayne?"

"No, I knew that I was a Wayne my whole life. But I was sent to my godparents instead of my dad like Damian. But I still knew." She pointed to her family, "They were surprised about my existence."

She pointed to a fourth reporter, "How do you like being a Wayne?"

"I really enjoy it. They are so nice to me. I really cherish them and we all have a lot of fun together. "

She pointed to a final reporter, "Do you like being Jonathan Kent's girlfriend and how did you meet?"

"We met when I bumped into him and my brother in Paris. We spent the week together. We got this thing called sweethearts ice cream. The ice cream tells you who your soulmate is. The guy who runs it Andre said that we were meant to be together. Jon asked me to be his girlfriend after. We have been a couple for three years. I love Jon a lot. He's really sweet and considerate. I wouldn't trade him for the world." Everyone awed.

Jon then picked her up bridal style, "Now that this is over, we'll be going home to have some fun." He winked at everyone.

Marinette blushed at the implications, "JON!" But, Jon silenced her with a passionate kiss, carrying her off the stage.

As Marinette kissed him back, she felt so happy. She had a loving family and boyfriend. They accepted her and cherished her.

She didn't know that the league was going to be attacked, but it helped her grow as a person and escape abuse. She didn't know that she would get a boyfriend. She didn't know she would ever meet her little brother ever again or meet her family. She didn't know what the future had in store for her. But she did know that she was going to spend it with her boyfriend and her family, and nothing was going to stop her.

(Sorry for the pictures smack in the middle of everything!)

[impetuous-impulse]

Marshal Brune and the Dumas Family (Part 1)

The 13th of March is Marshal Guillame Brune’s birthday, and a number of biographical entries and anecdotes have already been posted on this site to celebrate the occasion. I would like to contribute by tracing Brune’s relationship with the Dumas family, with an English translation of the memoirs of the literary figure Alexandre Dumas (père) (1802-1870) as a source.

How Brune Became the Godfather of Dumas (père)

Brune was friends with Thomas-Alexandre Dumas (1762-1806), who was a general in the French Army and the elder Dumas’ father. When the elder Dumas was born, the general (though then retired) persuaded Brune to become his godfather. As the elder Dumas recounts:

As I mentioned at the beginning of these Memoirs, I was born on the 5th Thermidor, year X (24th of July 1802), at 4.30 a.m. 

I came on the scene with a great show of strength and vigour, judging from a letter my father wrote to his friend, General Brune, the day after my birth. It is an odd letter, and possesses a post scriptum of a still more eccentric nature; but those who have had the patience to read these Memoirs so far will have become acquainted with some of my father's whimsical and vivacious characteristics, and should understand his nature.

[...]

"6th Thermidor, Year X.

"MY DEAR BRUNE,—I am glad to tell you my wife gave birth yesterday morning to a fine boy, who weighs nine pounds and is eighteen inches long. So you will see that if he continues to increase in the outside world at the rate he has done inside, he bids fair to attain to a pretty fine stature.

"And another thing you should know too: I rely on you to be his godfather. My eldest daughter, who sends you a thousand kisses from the tips of her little black fingers, will be your fellow-godparent. Make haste and come, although the new arrival into this world does not seem to wish to leave it in a hurry; come soon, for it is long since I saw you, and I want to see you very much.

—Your friend, AL. DUMAS.

"P.S.—I open my letter to tell you that the young dog has just eased himself all over his head. That's a good sign, surely! Eh?"

‘We must make allowances for my dear father's pride; he had much wanted a boy all the ten years he had been married, and he fancied that the birth should be preceded, accompanied, and followed by auguries of great import to the world, as in the case of Augustus. 

However, although these omens seemed so satisfactory to my father, Brune apparently was not so positive about them. This is what he wrote by return of post:

"COUNCIL OF STATE, PARIS,

"10th Thermidor, Year X of the French Republic.

"To GENERAL DUMAS.

"MY DEAR GENERAL,—A superstition prevents my complying with your request. I have been godfather five times, and my five godsons have all died! When the last died I vowed I would never name another child. You will probably think my superstition fanciful, but it would make me wretched to change my mind. I am an old friend of your family, therefore I feel sure I can count on your indulgence. My resolution must indeed be firmly fixed to refuse to act with your charming daughter. Offer my sincerest regrets to her and to your charming wife, and accept the assurance of my sincere attachment."

BRUNE.

"P.S.—I have despatched various parcels for the little godmother and her mamma."

Nevertheless, my father insisted, in spite of this refusal and the superstitious fears it implied. I never saw the second letter, but I presume the omens were even more propitious and more convincing than in the first instance, for, at my father's urgent entreaties, a mezzo termine (half-way house) was arranged, and Brune agreed to stand, but he was to have a proxy in the person of my father, who was to hold me at the font in his stead.

[...]

Brune, by proxy, and Aimée-Alexandre Dumas, my sister, aged nine years, were, therefore, my godfather and godmother.

Alexandre Dumas, My Memoirs, Vol. 1, Book 2, Ch. VIII, pp. 204-206. Translated by E. M. Waller. 

Link to a digital copy on Gutenberg.org.

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

Hi, thank you for all you share on here - it's been so helpful over the years. I've just been asked to be godparent to a sort-of friend's baby. I haven't been attending my old church in the last few years because it's catholic and I am still working out how I feel about that. and I also don't think my friend knows I'm gay. I'm feeling conflicted about whether I should tell my friend that to make sure she's okay with it, and also if it'll be okay to even take that role on? I'd be so grateful for any light you could shed on this situation 💜

Hey there, thank you for your kind words! This sounds like a complicated situation that's largely out of my wheelhouse; ultimately, you'll have to decide what's best for yourself. And if anyone else has thoughts, please share!

But yeah, here are my thoughts:

Most important question before anything else is: you want to be a godparent? Especially to the child of someone you classify as a "sort-of" friend? It's okay to turn down the request if you don't think god-parenting is for you / don't think you want that kind of deepened connection with this person and her family. .

If you're not sure whether you want to be / are qualified to be a godparent: I personally think the not-attending-church-often thing doesn't automatically disqualify you. You could bring that up with this friend first though, see what she thinks. But yeah, that aside, the biggest thing about being a godparent is whether you are up for the idea of supporting this child — especially if the worst happens and their parents die, but even if that doesn't happen. Will you commit to offering spiritual support? .

To me, that doesn't have to mean Catholic-specific support. I said yes to being my little sister's Confirmation sponsor while I was in college, even while I was starting to have an inkling that I was queer. And even now that I've "left" the Roman Catholic Church, and am a PCUSA minister, I don't regret my "yes" to being her sponsor. I'm still committed to supporting her spiritually (and holistically) in every way I can — praying for her, offering advice or information when she seeks it, etc. (She's actually not religious at all anymore, which adds more complexity to that; but spirituality is something anyone can cultivate, so I try to help her navigate more "agnostic" spirituality! But that's a tangent.) .

So yeah, if you want to be this child's godparent, I do think your instinct about making sure your friend knows you're gay is probably right; you wouldn't want that to come up later and have her act "betrayed." (If that were to happen, that would be on her, not you — but still probably something you don't wanna have to deal with years down the road). If you don't feel comfortable telling her you're gay, that's okay! That might mean it's best not to say yes to being her kid's godparent — usually being a godparent to someone's kid means being close to them or becoming closer. (You know your own context better than I do, of course; maybe you are able to cultivate close relationships with folks who don't know you're gay! That's fine too; this is just my thoughts about if I were in your shoes, I guess.)

Not sure if this was helpful or just made things more confusing, but there's my two cents for ya! Wishing you well as you reflect on this, anon! <3

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Four

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

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

Part 4 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

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

Warnings in this Chapter: reference to past sexual assault (very minimal); misogyny/sexism; mention of Infinity War deaths/Endgame deaths; abusive parental relationship; canon violence; heavy drinking; reference to cocaine use

Word Count: 13,900+

~

Tony’s Cabin, 2023, 8:56pm

      “Uh…”

You and Steve stared at the little girl in front of you, bouncing up and down with excitement as she held up one of Tony’s repulsors, the safety on but pointed right at the two of you. Steve instinctively pushed you behind him, the obvious fact being that a blast would most certainly kill you and not the super soldier himself. You were having difficulty holding in your laughter, watching as the girl kept poking at the metal, awaiting its true power. 

“Can I have that, Morgan?” Steve asked, his voice raising ever so slightly to try and seem nicer to the kid. 

“Talk to her with your regular voice, Steve. She’s five, not a toddler.”

“Yeah!”

Now you laughed at Morgan’s declaration of approval, still standing behind Steve with your hands braced on his back. 

Steve sighed and rolled his eyes playfully, “Alright, Morgan. Can I please have that back? It’s not a toy.”

“But daddy left it for me!”

You smiled at her, “Yeah, but he didn’t expect you to use it so early! Wait until you’re like… ten, then you can look through his things!”

“Y/N, ten?” Steve gave you a bewildered grin, eyes bright and laughter restrained. 

“Okay, twelve.”

His shoulders sagged with a heavy laugh. He reached over and took the chance, grabbing Morgan’s wrist softly and ejecting the glove from her small hand. 

“There we go!” you cheered, stepping out from behind Steve and scooping her up in your arms. Morgan started laughing loudly, kicking her legs to try and escape your hold. “Ah, don’t kick me!”

You had offered your time to Pepper whenever she needed it. You didn’t expect that she would call so early asking for a huge favor, her husband’s funeral not even four months ago. But you didn’t hesitate and packed an overnight bag, reassuring her that nothing would explode on your watch. On your way out of the temporary safe house, Steve had caught you just in time. A quick question of your future whereabouts and he was joining you, a tiny twinge of guilt in his chest from not seeing Tony’s daughter in so long. He was one of her godparents after all, just after Happy and Rhodey, beating out the third crowned position from Bruce. 

He had been hurt by that initially, asking why he wasn’t even considered. 

‘Bruce, the first time she comes into your room and stands over your sleeping body to let you know she had a nightmare, you’d scream.’

‘I wouldn’t be angry, just scared!’

‘Okay, after Cap here, you get custody.’

‘Oh, yay. Drafted fourth.’

Steve was happy to go see her on such short notice though, racing back up to his room to gather some overnight supplies as well. But you didn’t think anything of it - it was just a godparent wanting to see his godchild. 

“Ouch, that hurt,” you laughed and placed Morgan down in her bed. “Nighty night time.”

“Daddy said he left things for everyone, not just me.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up with curiosity, a sudden interest to know what his gift was exciting him. He had already given him the shield back... but then Thanos broke it. Maybe, another shield? No, T’Challa had already offered to send him a new one.

“Ooo, that’s interesting! I wonder if he got me that pretty bracelet I saw in that department store window that one time,” you gushed, pulling the blankets over Morgan. You fluffed out her hair, smiled at her, and told her goodnight. 

“Night night!”

Both you and Steve called out from the doorway of her bedroom, “Night night!”

Several minutes had passed before you brought up the prospect of secret gifts again, knowing Steve was just as interested as you were. 

“Want to go find them?”

Steve immediately stood up, clapping his hands together and giddy with excitement. “I won’t tell if you don’t!”

“Deal.”

You searched everywhere - living room, the garage, kitchen cabinets - even racing into the master bedroom, stealthy and secret, shame rising as you carefully picked up items around the room. “This feels like an invasion of privacy.”

Steve chuckled from outside the door, “Hurry up!”

But you found nothing. There was only one more spot to look - his office. You almost didn’t want to intrude any longer, this being his most sacred space, but the mere chance of Tony giving you a gift from the afterlife made you extremely happy. So you and Steve searched, stacking and restacking random papers and pushing away gadgets and books in the bookshelf. Finally, a small opening in the third shelf alerted you of your mission success. 

“Oh, fuck yeah,” you cheered, reaching in and pulling boxes and clipped pieces of paper, all different colors and sizes, from the compartment. They were labeled with various names - Rhodey, Pepper, Happy, Clint, Thor, Steve, Nebula, you - and Natasha. 

Steve sucked in his breath, his gasp similar to yours. “He got these before…”

“Yeah,” you nodded, handing Steve his labeled box. It was light blue, a white ribbon delicately wrapped around it, and with a cute little red ribbon with Steve’s name on it. It wasn’t big, but it was more than enough. 

“Open it,” you said. 

Steve shook his head, “Let’s open ours together.”

You agreed to his terms, taking your folder into your hands. It was one of those same art folders you had when you bought some new planners or notebooks. It was black, custom-made it seemed, as it had your name on the front in gold, cursive writing. 

On the count of three, you both opened your presents. 

Steve pulled out two sets of dog tags from the box, the sound of them clinking together reminding him of the times he would hug his fellow soldiers on the battlefield, cheers of victory mixed in with the smell of sweat and dry blood. He read the names on the metal. 

‘Steven G. Rogers

987654320 T42 O

Brooklyn, NY. P.’

‘James B. Barnes. 

32557038 T41 42 O

R. Barnes

Shelbyville, IN. P.’

He had not known they recovered his dog tags, faintly remembering clutching them tightly as he flew the plane into the ice. But SHIELD must have kept them for the museum, and Tony had recovered them. Bucky’s, however, were lost as soon as Bucky fell from that train. They were more rusted than Steve’s, almost as if HYDRA kept them underwater or stored for the majority of Bucky’s sentence. But no matter how Tony had gotten them, he was eternally grateful. 

“Wow,” Steve said, clearing his throat. But you were too caught up in your reading. 

      ‘Target whereabouts discovered mid-May of 2017. Only T. Stark and N. Romanoff approved for mission.

      Transport at 20:00 hours. Target(s) confirmed and exterminated at exactly 0802 Pacific Standard Time.’

You choked on the sob that suddenly broke through, hand instantly reaching up to cup your mouth. Steve put his tags back into the box, shushing you to get you to calm down. “What is it? What’d he get you?”

Four pictures accompanied the short report, each face crossed out with red paint. A tiny laugh escaped and tears of joy started to flow. To say Steve was confused was an understatement. 

“He… he got me justice.”

Steve took the file from you, reading over every word to somehow understand what you meant by justice. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration and he looked up at you for more explanation.

You brushed your hair back and rubbed at your cheeks, the smile on your face now straining. Whether it was a sudden change of mind or the closure of your trauma was just that satisfying, you told Steve exactly what Tony and Natasha had done for you. 

“After I joined you guys in New York, Fury sent me on a mission to infiltrate and bring back information about this dude my father was trying to literally destroy. But I had to play both sides  - the good and the bad.”

Steve set the file down, his full attention on you.

“I got the information but for some reason, it wasn’t enough for my father. I had forgotten to get the most vital piece, something he thought I would automatically know,” you scoffed, your smile faltering at the next part of the story. 

“I cost him ten million. And to teach me a lesson, he let these men do whatever they wanted to me. Anything.”

Steve’s breath hitched as he understood what you meant. And it was no longer a mystery why you had been planning to kill him ‘again’ after everyone came back from the snap.

“I returned to the compound in such bad shape. I only told Natasha. She cleaned me up, she took me to med-bay in the middle of the night, she brought me breakfast in bed,” you chuckled at the memory, hand reaching out to hold Steve’s. 

“And Tony’s gift was murdering the men that hurt me.”

Steve let a few tears slip himself, his hand gripping yours tighter. “Y/N, if I would have known-”

“Hey, it’s okay. You didn’t know, though. I thought only Natasha knew. She promised me she would take care of it. I just didn’t think she would actually find them.”

“I think we know that Natasha could find literally anything and anyone,” Steve said. 

You agreed with his statement, a smile returning to your face. 

You jumped from your sitting position and went back to retrieve Natasha’s gift. “Hey, should we?”

Steve eyed the small, black box in your hand. He sighed as he walked over to you, eyes returning to the box. 

“It was meant for her.”

You frowned, “Yeah, and I’ll ask Pepper if we can give these to everyone else.”

You paused and shook the box near your ear. It felt heavy in your hand, and the contents gave a little jingle. 

“But this one was for Nat. I think she’d want us to at least see it.”

Steve chuckled and just nodded, awaiting the reveal. You pulled the ribbon and opened the box, surprised that Tony had given her a piece of jewelry. “Oh.”

Steve took the bracelet from the box, oblivious that the movement would unlock the charms from their heavy chests. In a matter of seconds, charms of similar size but different designs dropped to encircle the silver band. You inspected them in Steve’s hand - a red/white/and blue shield, Mjollnir, a pair of wings, two arc reactors, a singular arrow, a silver arm, a spider, an emerald heart, the letters ‘W’ and ‘V’ intertwined, a black cat, an ant - and your symbol, an intricately carved silver charm no bigger than your thumbnail, of your face. Tony knew no specific object or symbol was tied with your Avengers status, no one had ever given you one, but this was perfect. 

“Wow,” Steve whispered, examining each charm closely with a lazy smile on his face. 

“We were her family. This was an ode to that.”

“What do we do with it?” Steve asked.

You just shrugged, “Frame it? It would feel wrong just taking it for myself.”

Steve agreed. Later that night when Pepper returned home, you showed her what Morgan led you to. She let you keep your gifts and take the others, absolutely loving the idea of framing Natasha’s bracelet in the new compound being built. 

Present Day, 2025, 8:10 am

     The bright light from the open windows hadn’t hit you as suddenly as the random throw pillow that connected to your face, startling you with a quick gasp and causing you to choke on your spit. You snapped up, belly down and hair wild, eyes still half-lidded as you searched for the aggravator. And he stood there with a stupid grin on his face, already dressed in his stupid old man clothes, and stupid blond hair perfectly pushed back. 

“What the fuck was that for?” you tried to yell, voice cracking at the end and just the slightest hint of drool threatening to spill from the corner of your mouth. 

“I ordered room service. Plus, we have to leave in an hour.”

You grabbed as many pillows as your one free hand could hold, the other still tucked into the pillowcase below your head. You flung them wildly, none actually hitting the super soldier directly. His chuckle pulled a deep groan from you, and no longer wanting to look like a fool, you stumbled out of bed and pushed passed him roughly. 

“You could have woken me up the same time you got up.”

“But you looked so peaceful.”

His sarcasm was not helping your souring mood. Steve headed over to the monitors to turn them on, already setting up the morning video chat with Bucky and Sam. “Do you always sleep like a mounted spider?”

You flicked him off, “Leave me alone so I can take my morning piss in peace!”

You slammed the door and made your way to the toilet. Now, you were no morning person. But it was simple enough for you to crawl out of bed with only minimal protest when your awakening was a peaceful one. Having a pillow thrown at your head while mid-dream was practically excruciating and no one, not even the grandest morning person in the world, could possibly awake happy from that. And to top it all off, you couldn’t even remember what you were dreaming of. Just another thing to blame Steve for. 

After you had done your morning routine and slipped into a really comfy outfit, the breakfast finally arrived. You muttered a quiet thanks to Steve for ordering your favorites and damn him for knowing you preferred waffles over pancakes and a variety of creamers to choose from, and quickly filled Bucky and Sam in on what the plan for the day was. 

You had been on missions with Steve before, but no matter how many times you regrouped in the mornings, you had never actually seen him wake up. After your rude awakening, you wondered at what point during sunrise he opened his eyes - ‘cause you’ll be standing over him with a pillow of your own. 

“Torres has the air footage scheduled for around five today, then he’ll link you to the camera for the remainder of the mission,” Sam clarified. 

“Is it possible to link earlier?” Steve asked. 

“Not unless you can get the Wi-Fi password of the estate.”

You chuckled, still funneling mouthfuls of waffle into your mouth. “So, we can hack the Pentagon whenever we feel like it, but we can’t hack into my father’s estate without the Wi-Fi password?”

Sam cleared his throat, “You are so lucky this is a secure line.”

“Wait until she finishes her breakfast and her head will be screwed back on straight,” Steve joked, taking a long sip from his tea. 

Almost immediately, your phone dinged with a new message. You angled your phone away from Steve but your smirk was enough to alert him of a side conversation happening under his nose. 

Bucky: Ouch, I wouldn’t mind if you hit him upside the head.

Y/N: he threw a pillow at me to wake me up :(

Bucky: hit him

Y/N: bet

“Stop talking about me over the phone.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Steve grumbled, the rough sound catching Sam’s attention as well. His eyes flashed back and forth between the two of you - Steve desperately trying to catch a quick glance at your messages, and you leaning away from him with thumbs moving at a rapid pace. 

“Y/N, how you feeling?”

You put your phone down and pretended to not notice how Steve was trying to get a glimpse of your screen. 

“A little queasy, in all honesty.”

A myriad of emotions were present and coiling in your body, each trying to sprout and bloom and gain their five seconds of fame. And for the past several years, it was easy to downplay their true power. Because the power they held wasn’t one of distressing strength, but rather one that tip-toed to the front of your anxiety driven worries. It planted itself there, up front, but ever so silent. For it to finally meet its match, to possibly be freed of such a coil - well, you were more worried about not succeeding in its erasure than its final blooming. 

“We’ve come up with a system to make sure we both don’t go overboard or to tell the other that we’re alright,” Steve said, eyes on the monitor but hands loading bullets into your trusty handguns. 

“Alright, that’s good,” Bucky spoke, finally. He typed away on his keyboard, “Give us a word we all use in case we need back-up immediately.”

“Mm, you should ask Steve. He loves his safe words.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “Something Avengers related? Or something no one would ever say?”

“Pick anything you want, just don’t let it be awkward to repeat out loud,” Sam joked. 

Steve pondered for a few seconds before he settled on his chosen word, a hint of a smile forming. “Widow.”

You nodded, “That’s sweet. She’d like us using her alias for a dirty little safe word.”

You huffed suddenly, shoulder colliding with the carpet, the realization that Steve pushed you from your chair causing you to stare at him with your mouth hanging open. “Hey!”

“Steve, every single day I accept your fate from her murderous hands,” Bucky grumbled, Sam’s loud laugh causing the speaker to give a quick halt of static. 

“She’s okay- hey!”

You flew across your chair and onto him, lunging your body as your main weapon in taking him down. You both tumbled to the floor, the sofa chair you collided with scraping along and pushing the coffee table with it. A lamp shattered on the floor right when you wrapped your arm around Steve’s neck and hooked your legs from underneath him and around his waist, his back to your front, both his arms coming up to tug yours out of reflex. 

“Yield, you little shit,” you grunted, the grip of your arm remaining loose on purpose but your legs tight, heels now digging into his slim waist. 

Steve groaned, both from your pointy heels and the sudden impact his body made with the ground. “I’m letting you win.”

“You seriously got a mouth on you.”

You let him go anyway, choosing to save your strength for the mission and not waste it on a petty little fight. Besides, you could always smother him with a pillow in his sleep. 

“You two done?”

Both you and Steve stumbled getting up, faces back in your teammate’s view as you smoothed down your clothing and wiped at your foreheads.

“Now that that’s over,” Sam continued, clearing his throat. “The only task for today is to get a feel of the place, establish a legit backstory providing you some leverage, and to swipe those ID’s.”

“Got it,” you acknowledged, standing again to begin hooking your weapons in discreet locations in your clothing. 

“And we’re not responsible for that broken lamp so it’s coming out of your paycheck.”

     California really wasn’t like any other state. There was a vast difference from Northern and Southern, the difference being the amount of green fields visible. In Southern California, the mountains and desert areas took up most of the landscape, with an industrial complex here, a growing city there, and then nothing for a good ten miles. Since most of the landscape was below sea level, the atmosphere was almost always dry, modest dust storms forming only to quickly pass a freeway and disintegrate once it found the other side. It was more urban, more lively with people. But Northern California, even if it experienced the same weather patterns as the south, was mostly humid during the winter season. The mountains here were covered in lively agriculture, livestock roamed freely in the gated areas near the freeways, and the overall environment provided a rural look. 

 And the differences just stood out to you, your excitement for the livestock starting to annoy Steve as you kept pointing out every cow you drove past. He threatened to stop the car and dare you to tip one. 

“So, how did we meet?”

Steve chuckled, “We’re coworkers, Y/N. Thought that question was obvious.”

You whined, “Steve, we have to put some drama into it! How about we say we met during one of Tony’s parties after Fury assigned you to this?” 

“And what? I asked you to dance?”

You leaned over your seat and poked his arm, teasing him. “Would you have asked me to dance?”

Steve shrugged, “I mean, sure.” 

He glanced at you and then back to the road. “Can’t we just be honest? I like the way we met.”

 You pouted, “The way we met is a matter of national security.”

   “You brought that thing back to an unguarded planet?” Loki seethed, his voice still a whisper as he followed Thor through the hallways of Avengers Tower. A tower he had been prisoner of for a few weeks now, but would soon be released from once Thor decided to return home. Besides, it had been more than a year since his unfortunate attack and after thousands of apologies, brainwashing excuses (which were true!), and quite a few long labor hours equivalent to Midgardian community service, his leash was extended somewhat. 

“How am I the more level-headed one right now?”

Thor grumbled in response, now on his hands and knees as he searched for the tiny animal that had already eaten its way through the plush of the interior walls. “It couldn’t have gotten far. And how was I supposed to know the oxygen levels here would cause it to go crazy?”

“You couldn’t. In fact, I don’t know why it’s here in the first place!”

“Keep screaming, Loki. I bet that would make it come to us quicker!”

Loki was about to come up with another quick quip, but was interrupted by a quiet mumble down the hall. 

“Oh?”

You rocked back and forth on your heels as you stared at the two brothers - one sweeping the floor on all fours and the other ducked down to scream into his brother’s ear. “Whatcha looking for?”

“Now, don’t be alarmed, Agent. But I may have misplaced my dog.”

“Dog?” Loki tilted his head, hands now cupping the side of his head in disbelief. 

Your eyebrows shot up from his reaction, “Not dog?”

“It’s… an animal from Asgard.”

“Okay, what does it look like?” you asked, now more interested than ever. 

Thor cleared his throat and rose to his feet slowly, “Like a dragon.”

You stepped back, almost tripping over your left foot. An involuntary laugh escaped from your lips and you brought a hand up to try and stifle it. “You brought a dragon into the tower?”

“He brought a dragon back to Midgard,” Loki clarified as he walked over to the wall and pressed his ear against it. 

“Oh, yeah. That’s much worse,” you agreed. “Fury’s gonna shove his foot so far up your ass-”

“Yes, yes. I know what awaits me. Now, help us find it!” Thor begged. 

This wasn’t how you expected to spend your first day as an Avenger. After all the training and promoting, the paperwork and oaths, you thought you would have a pretty chill afternoon. Arrive at the conference room, get the name badge and a rundown of your new field suit, and meet the rest of the team. Freshly nineteen and energetic as ever, you accepted this as a test. Find the dragon, make a good impression. 

It only took a few more minutes before you three stumbled on an otherwise empty hallway, staring down the colorful creature as it licked one of its paws. 

Your eyes widened, “It looks like an alebrije.”

“You have these creatures on your planet?” Loki asked, surprise written over his face. 

“Nope, alebrije’s aren’t real. They’re fantasy.”

“Nevermind that, help me catch it!”

Loki began shushing his brother, hands swatting his massive shoulders in the process. You leaned down to the floor and tapped it with your fingernails, hoping the nice gesture would cause the creature to meet you halfway. 

“Hey, buddy,” you cooed. “Can you come here please?”

The creature raised its head, colorful eyes on full display. Similar to rings of fire, but face like a fox, and fur as soft as silk. It titled its head, interested for only a second, before it kicked back and rushed toward the three of you at full speed. 

“Oh, shit-!”

As he was the closest, Loki pushed Thor to the wall and lifted you from the ground. But before he could throw you out of the way too, the creature leaped. Loki shielded you with his body, wrapping his arms around you and picking you up as the creature kicked his back and sent the two of you flying through wall after wall. Loki was taking the force of it all, his chest angled in a way to protect your head. It was about ten walls you two flew through before you landed in what seemed like conference room B… or C… or A. Loki rolled you over and groaned in pain. You landed on your back, bright lights blinding you as you tried to adjust. Then a figure came into view as your blurry vision cleared. 

You blinked rapidly and stared up at your new Captain. You smiled, a bit delirious, and raised your hand up for a handshake. 

“Y/N Y/L/N, new recruit!”

Steve just stared, eyebrows scrunched, an expression resembling a scowl and bewilderment painted on his face. He took your hand in his and shook it. 

“Forgive us, Captain,” Loki spoke, coughing as he turned over. “But you might want to get that shield of yours.”

    “When did we become a couple?” you continued once you agreed on the ‘party meet-and-greet’ as your previous answer. 

Now, this was a question Steve was wondering about since before you mentioned the necessity of such answers. Although he didn’t fantasize about being your significant other, he did wonder what possible event could jumpstart it. If anything, and he would take this to the grave, he assumed a line would be crossed during a particularly tempting mission. Bucky had admitted to him that on one mission, and Steve promised to take this to the grave as well, Bucky had to kiss Wanda to keep their cover. The feelings subsided soon after the mission was over, but Bucky confessed to real feelings developing. So if Steve had to bet, a particularly tempting mission. 

“When we were searching for Bucky?”

You nodded, “That works. We can say the fall of SHIELD basically led to us to realize how weak the system was and how we could easily manipulate it.”

The road veered off to the side, now dirt and unevenly layered. You checked the directions Torres gave you just to make sure. 

“And when is my birthday?”

You didn’t expect Steve to answer so quickly, and to get it right. Perhaps he looked over your file and remembered, because you were certain only your little friend group knew it. It was Bucky, it had to be him, the little shit, he told- 

“Surprised?”

“A little. How do you know it?”

“Nat. Who do you think sends you those chocolates every year?”

You were overjoyed, really. “Wha-? Natasha said she did it.”

Steve smirked, “She covered for me.”

“Why?”

“Because for five years after the snap, you and Nat did nothing for yourselves and did everything for everyone else.” He had been witness to the two of you pulling all-nighters, washing the sheets of your fallen teammates as if they were going to return that weekend, celebrating their birthdays in secret with a small candle and a prayer. Moving from the compound and into his own apartment was hard enough, but seeing his remaining teammates wallow in cursed self-determination was worse. So, he asked Nat about your birthday to send you chocolates and a lovely handwritten note, careful to write in a font different from his natural one, and he would fold tiny paper airplanes and leave them around the compound where only Nat could find them, providing her a sense of playfulness in her busy day. Little joys to make up for such an impact.  

“If it makes you feel better, I sent gifts to Nat and Bruce, too.”

But because Bruce had no forwarding address at the time, Steve settled for quick text messages here and there. 

“And here I was thinking I was special.”

Steve laughed at your statement. He reached into the middle compartment to grab the mics you would be wearing. “By the way, make sure to hide this behind your neck. My mic will blend in as a button.”

You inspected the flat, button-like mic, awed by how intricate their design was. “They connected to Bucky’s?”

Steve clipped his onto his shoulder, the camouflage effect throwing you off. Yup, you loved science. “Yeah, they record everything and immediately send it back already transcribed.”

You unfolded the sun visor and watched how the mic picked up the color of your skin and blended naturally. “Remind me to send T’Challa and Shuri a gift basket.”

“And more.”

The estate was exactly how you remembered it. Modern and simple all at once, a brown exterior to easily blend into the surrounding forest, and massive front gate that only opened with a specific code. You leaned out the window and typed it in. There was no speaker this time, probably evidence of newly installed cameras. 

“It’s beautiful,” Steve muttered, pulling into the long driveway and following the brick road. 

It truly was. Even from where you were, you could see into the mansion as the walls were all practically made from glass. The walls in the back were normal, however, as that’s where most of the business was conducted. There were no swing doors, only large and heavy double doors made from cooled lava rock. And even though your father was a very organized man, the house was littered in trinkets of all origins: professionally stuffed exotic animals, roman and oriental statues, porcelain eggs, multiple pianos, and first editions of some of the most popular books in the world. There wasn’t any set theme for this house, but it was screaming ‘money’. 

Steve parked the car away from the others, careful to leave enough room around it to ensure an easy escape if needed.

“Remember what I said - play the part. Leave the smart mouth to me, they know me. It’s what they’ve come to expect.”

Steve clicked his seatbelt and sighed heavily, “I apologize in advance.”

You gave him a small smile, “Nothing to apologize for, Steve. Like I said, this is a mission. Don’t stress about it.”

He shook his head, “Still.”

The sincere look in his eyes sent a tingle down your arms. You cleared your throat, “I feel dirty saying this, but know your place. You may be a Captain but you’re not manning this boat.”

For some reason Steve felt that he truly needed to apologize in advance. For the past several years, it wasn’t entirely real to him. He had not been directly involved. But now that he was here, parked and staring at you - the one person who had a first hand account of the horrors inside - he needed to make sure you understood he would never actually hurt you, or you him. “I trust you.”

You removed your seatbelt and opened the door, “I trust you, too.”

It was windy today, the ruffles from the trees almost disguising the labor coming from the back. You assumed they were still building the reception area. Steve jogged over to your side and hooked your arm in his, his body tenser than yours. Someone opened the heavy doors, immediately swallowing the oxygen for miles with merely their presence. You couldn’t help yourself from a small grimace, lips spreading into a straight line as you forced any other expression besides hatred. 

Seda, standing at barely six foot and a smug look plastered on his aging face that worried even Steve. This was the man that had shot you when he was on the run - the man that would most likely do it again. 

Seda quickly stepped down the stairs, “Y/N, so lovely to see you again!”

You let go of Steve to walk ahead, arms extended to match the idea of a grand entrance. “Really? Because the last time we saw each other, you shot me in the gut.”

Steve swore he saw Seda’s upper lip twitch. “You hold too many grudges. I was just following your father’s orders.”

You rolled your eyes and finally came to a stop in front of him, arms crossed over your chest. “Obviously.”

“And I’ve finally got the chance to meet Captain America! You’re much larger in person.”

No matter the acting skills one must obtain for this line of work, it was still obvious Seda was speaking through clenched teeth. He scanned Steve up and down, somewhat intimidated.

It was such a sudden shift, one you obviously knew was coming, but the deepness of Steve’s voice still caused unnatural goosebumps to rise. “I get that a lot. Helps in this business, though.”

Seda let out a low chuckle, “I would think so.” He turned and instructed the two men who had followed him out to reopen the heavy doors.  “This way.”

Steve tried not to gawk at the amount of decorations and old-timey artifacts he swore should belong in a museum. So much furniture, so much history that shouldn’t mix but somehow worked. And was that… was that a stuffed polar bear?

“So, how you doing, Seda? Besides the usual,” you asked, hooking your arm back with Steve’s. 

Seda walked with his head held high, only tilting his head downward when giving a silent greeting to those who walked by. You tried to memorize faces or see if there was anyone you recognized. But your father barely kept the same team for more than a few years. They either left voluntarily and luckily, or were simply never heard from again. 

“Excited for the wedding. Jackeline has been running around nonstop on her finishing touches,” Seda responded. 

You huffed out a laugh, “I bet she has. She used to have a scrapbook that outlined six different wedding themes.”

“And I haven’t seen the end of it.”

Only a few more twists and turns and you were finally near the familiar hallway that housed your father’s darkest work. The interior design was purposeful, no windows and no cameras. Steve unhooked your arms, opting for a more formal presentation between the two of you. Seda was difficult to please, but your father was near impossible. Better to not have his hands all over his daughter during their first meeting.  

“Hey, what’s the wi-fi password? I’m expecting a few important emails today,” you asked before Seda opened your father’s office door. Steve had to restrain himself from blessing the ground you walked on. Bless you for remembering. 

“‘Guadalajara’.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, sending the password to Torres as quickly as you could. 

It wasn’t the grand entrance you expected, truly, but you didn’t expect to see your father simply chilling behind his desk signing a few papers. He usually paced, was in a random meeting, or on the phone. Here, he was just… strangely normal. 

He looked up, eyes locking with yours for the first time in seven years. “Now, I haven’t seen you since your little weekend trip to Jalisco!”

Yeah, since you had me shot. 

Stepping into the office, the smell of cigars was heavy. Musty and daring, enveloping you like the times it did before. But now you had Steve - sweet Steve whose warmth you could feel behind you. 

You shrugged, “I’m not traveling much outside the country these days. Too much shit going on.”

Your father stood up and let out a dry laugh, “No lie about that. Seda was telling me how loose the borders were when half the world croaked.”

“Emigration was common, yup.”

He smiled at you, walking over and placing his hands on your shoulders. You did your best not to tense your muscles. “I wish I could have been there. You guys made millions those five years.”

You swore you heard Seda scoff near the corner of the room. 

“It’s about time we met! Ernesto Vega,” your father introduced himself, holding out his hand for Steve to take. 

It was instant, the change, and you found yourself pushed softly to the side as Steve stepped forward. “Steve Rogers, sir. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Your father was practically beaming, “Y/N isn’t giving you a hard time with all the business, aye?”

Steve chuckled, “None at all. She steps back when asked.”

Okay, maybe he was a better actor than you took him for. 

“I can’t believe you even have to ask,” your father hummed, glancing back at you with a disapproving look. 

Steve shrugged, “More like ‘ordered.’”

It was scary how easily Steve was making your father laugh. “So, she listens to you? I wonder what that’s like.”

You interrupted, scoffing quietly. “I have literally done everything you’ve asked.”

And without glancing at you this time, your father quipped. “Everything but learn how not to complain.” 

You rolled your eyes and met Seda’s stare. He always enjoyed the torment your father caused you. When he ordered you do something sketchy and you objected, Seda always had a front row seat to the slaps and harsh language spit in your face. He had a way of bringing up the abuse in almost every conversation he held with you - like it gave him some form of sick satisfaction.

“Regardless of my daughter’s inability to listen, I was still surprised when she named you as her partner.”

“The whole hero game was getting boring. I needed excitement.”

Your father agreed, “Don’t we all?” 

Before he continued, he squinted his eyes at Steve and scanned him once more. Almost like he was double checking his initial choice. 

“And you’re fine with breaking the laws of the country you’re the mascot for?”

“America has changed over the last hundred years. Trust me, I should know.”

Steve was answering exactly how you two practiced. You couldn’t help the small tinge of pride that it ignited. 

“Oh, I can’t believe you’re older than me. I mean, look at you.”

“The positives and negatives of being America’s science experiment, sir.”

“But here you are now. Working for me.” Your father stepped back to sit behind his desk again. “I’m very happy.”

“Likewise, sir,” Steve replied as he shuffled closer to you, trying to not seem so suspicious. Last time Steve wanted to crawl out of his own skin was when he was barely being introduced to the new world. Times Square really was a concrete jungle, his and Bucky’s old apartment building had been demolished in the fifties, and inflation… don’t get him started on inflation.  

“I’d like you to meet my two friends.” Your eyes widened. No, you weren’t supposed to meet them today. You hadn’t planned for this. 

“Friends and competition alike.”

You tried to keep your voice steady, “Shouldn’t you warm them up before you invite them in? They’re gonna take one look at Steve and freak.”

Your father motioned for Seda to open the door. “Then prepare your speech quickly.”

Before you or Steve could come up with a game plan, your father called out to the new arrivals. “Amigos! Me gustaría presentarles al hombre detrás de toda mi operación.”

The men summoned were completely different from the last time you saw them. Given you saw Ramirez long before the snap and White even before then, change was destined. Ramirez was skinnier, no more protruding stomach, wrinkles almost nonexistent and eyes lively. He hadn’t disappeared with half the world, but one of his daughters did - so getting her back definitely helped his overall health. White, on the other hand, aged overnight. His hair was now gray, eyelids sullen but eyes wide, and his nose was tilted awkwardly, like a surgery to counteract the powder he sniffed. You couldn’t remember if he was dusted or not.

“Tienes que agradecer a mi hija por esto.”

He did not just give you credit for this. 

“No fucking way?” Ramirez spoke, almost like he was out of breath. 

Curse your father for not preparing these two. You quickly reminded yourself where your gun was hidden in case things got out of hand. 

White stepped forward, circling you and Steve as if you were displayed in a museum. “Do we each get our own Avenger?”

“Maybe in the future. But this one’s mine.”

“I’m an Avenger, too. But okay,” you mumbled, offended by his singular statement. Steve’s lip twitched slightly but the look he threw at you let you know he wanted to smile. 

“¿Cómo lo hiciste?”

“Ya sabes cómo es... La gente simplemente sigue mi ejemplo.”

You decided to speak, anything to get White to stop inspecting you like some ancient artifact. “Steve green lights the routes and passages. He’s been a main player all along.”

White squinted at you, “And how long has this been going on?”

“For almost ten years,” you answered. 

White shook his head in surprise, eyes wider than you thought possible. His accent was more slurred than you remembered. “And you’re telling us now because-?”

Your father cut in, “The world is still in ruins. If we combine our forces like we discussed before that unfortunate disappearing act, we’ll be unstoppable.”

This seemed to catch Ramirez off guard, as if he truly didn’t remember the conversation your father brought up. You shoveled his reaction deep into your memory. Maribel would have to look into it.

Still, Ramirez played along. “And you’ll be loyal to us, too? Not just Ernesto?”

Steve nodded, his posture straightening. “I would.”

Now, the two new arrivals looked at you. You raised an eyebrow. 

“Don’t look at me. I do what he says,” you admitted, nodding your head toward Steve.

They seemed to accept that answer. 

“And he’s here to help us move the shipment this Saturday?” White asked.

“That’s the plan,” your father confirmed.

It was time for Ramirez to circle you both. But he did so more casually and without the intent of kicking you in the shins, it seemed. He went to sit on the couch nearest the door, away from the crowd. You could sense Steve tensing up, so you turned your body slightly to the side so you could see Ramirez through your peripheral.

“How do we know we can trust him? What those stars and stripes have to do with us?”

“You hear that Captain?” your father asked, leaning back in his chair with that twisted smile that always made your stomach drop. “Time to prove your loyalty.”

“Are you seriously going to haze him?” you spoke, a hint of a teasing tone on your words. It was time to liven up the conversation, for both your sake, or else your father was sure to go overboard. His hand… where’s Steve’s hand?

“Does she speak for you?”

Steve stepped forward, “No, she doesn’t.”

“Prove it.”

You should really punch your chest to get your heart beating again. Was he going to make Steve try the product? Record something as blackmail? Kill someone?

“Wha-” you began, but were immediately silenced as an arm wrapped around your neck and held you in place. The coldness of the gun’s muzzle tickled just below your chin, still and steady, but nonetheless terrifying. Your father had held you in this position before - hell, most of his men did when asked. But it wasn’t any of your father’s men threatening you under orders - it was Steve.  

“Obviously, I’m not going to kill her. You need her for this whole operation to work. But a little roughing up never did any bad.”

He removed his other arm but kept the muzzle under your chin, grabbing both your arms skillfully and pinning them behind your back. 

You had never seen your father so pleased. “Why are you dating my daughter?”

Steve chuckled and clicked the safety. No, no. 

You scrambled to open your right palm and squeeze what you could reach. Steve seemed to understand right away, and he loosened his grip and placed his other shaking hand into yours. You squeezed tightly. 

“Now, that’s like asking a man why he breathes air.”

No matter the position he currently had you in, you still praised his acting skills. 

“Perhaps. But I know my daughter. Why you?”

Steve kept a firm grip. “Luck?”

“It seems so. Let her go.”

He released you immediately, clicking the safety back on. Seda was in front of him before Steve could place it back on his person, grabbing the gun and emptying it. Seven rounds tumbled and scattered to the floor. This seemed to please both men, as Steve wasn’t presenting himself with an empty threat. He really could have killed you. 

“I’m assuming Y/N has told you stories about me. About my men.”

The floor beneath you was uneven, it seemed, but once your mind stopped playing tricks on you, you settled. You shot a quick glance to Ramirez, his eyes closed and hands clasped in his lap. He seemed distant.

“Only the ones worth repeating, sir.”

“Oh? And which are those?”

“Orders and the like.”

“So, you don’t know much? Nothing interesting? Nothing that could make me seem like the bad guy?”

The room grew hot, whether it was the natural air or the bubbling anger boiling in your stomach.

“Like I said, sir. I ask her what I want to know and she tells me. Other than that, it’s your call.”

The room fell silent as they debated their other questions. 

“How much do the other Avengers know?”

You were about to respond when Steve spoke instead. “Oblivious. I’m still the stars and stripes for them.”

White scoffed, “Those symbols don’t mean shit in this new world. Ridiculous of them to still assume you’re the same man.”

Steve’s jaw tensed, “Exactly right, sir.”

This seemed to be enough for your father. He stood from his chair, walking over to shake Steve’s hand again. So righteous and personal, almost like he hadn’t just ordered the assassination of an old friend a few days ago. “I like you, Captain. You’ve boosted my business, you’ve handled my daughter, you’ve made me a lot of money.” 

He looked away from Steve to look at you now, laying eyes upon a person he hadn’t bothered to reunite with in person. You had fought so hard not to be in the same room ever again, but now you were. A small little office, holding whatever air you were forced to share, on a mission that could change everything. You hated him, absolutely detested the ground he stood on, blamed him for the fallout, the change, the hurt. 

“Seda, you trust him?”

Seda opened the office door and started ushering the other two men out. “I’m getting there.”

Your father laughed, “Always so cynical.” 

Ramirez stood from his seat behind you, already gunning to make a good impression on your Captain. He shook Steve’s hand, “Until next time.”

“Sir,” Steve returned the handshake. Ramirez only adjusted slightly, and held his hand out to you. You looked down at it, momentarily stunned from any attention, but shook it in the way you were taught. Firm, short, and ready for business. You grinned at him and he returned the same emotion. 

“Two Avengers. Wow,” he mumbled, and tilted his head in a farewell. You watched him go, a silly smile on your face. 

You went to take your leave, cautious of being left alone with your father. But as fate had it, he stopped you from leaving so simply. 

“Oh, and Y/N?” 

You turned on your heel, lips plastered in a straight line. You raised your eyebrows at him, already annoyed from the request he most certainly had, no doubt. “Meet me in a few minutes. Alone.”

You forced yourself to nod, turning quickly and leaving the room. You shuffled down the hallway, Steve hot on your trail and reaching for your hand. 

“Hey, hey. I don’t want to leave you alone.”

He tugged you back to him, but you pushed him into the corner room you were originally heading for. You shut the door softly, and allowed Steve to grip your hands in his. 

“Well, you gotta. Link our mics. You’ll hear everything.”

“Safe word?”

You chuckled lowly but retracted the teasing attitude when you saw genuine worry written on Steve’s face. “Widow, Steve.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you back there. I couldn’t think of anything else to do-”

You shushed him, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s okay. You didn’t hurt me.”

“I fuck with you all the time but I would never take it that far.”

Where was this coming from? Steve looked like he was about to start hyperventilating. “I’m good. You didn’t hurt me. I’m fine, see?” you placed his hand on your chest, making sure he could feel your heartbeat. “I’m good.”

“You’re good?”

“I’m good.”

Steve removed his hand and placed it over his own chest, rubbing slightly. “I’ll be right outside when he talks to you.”

“I know you’ll be. Now, stand guard, whistle low to alert me.”

“This the room? You know the code?”

It was a simple office as well, but resembled more of a library than a workspace. It was dimly lit, cluttered, smelled of the wooden cabinets and the dust collecting on the books, and lacked any windows as well. You nodded to confirm Steve’s question, heading over to the farthest bookshelf and pushed it away from the wall. The loose dust swooped from the wood surface and into the air instantly, and you had to pause to sneeze down your shirt. 

You wiped your nose, “I’m third in command. My father may have some things hidden but I have to know the codes to shit like this.”

Steve leaned his ear on the door gently, “You’re clear.”

You gave him a thumbs up and fiddled with the outside of the safe. It was built into the wall, black in color and definitely made way before you were born. It was quite rusted, the gold numbers on the lock almost faded. 

“Let’s hope he didn’t change it.” You turned the dial - seven, thirty-three, eighteen - and it clicked on the first try. “Bingo.”

“Did you have a backup plan if that didn’t work?”

You snorted quietly, “Smash?”

Steve rolled his eyes and pressed his ear back on the door. 

Everything inside had been recently rearranged. You figured your father used some of these ID’s when entering the country for the wedding and left them stacked on one another for the quick heist on Saturday.  “We’re in luck! Both my father’s and Seda’s ID’s are here, along with-”

You cooed, taking out your phone and opening the camera app. You snapped multiple pictures, with and without flash. “Stacks and stacks of cash.”

You pulled your purse in front of you and pulled out your wallet to make room, shoving it into your back pocket instead. 

“Help me put this in my purse.”

Steve left his post to help you shovel the ID’s discreetly into every pocket your purse provided, shoving things into corners so nothing protruded. 

“Damn, we gotta leave the money,” you pouted. 

Steve chuckled, “What a horrible thing.”

A sudden, boisterous laugh right outside the door caused you to rip your arm away from the safe, thankfully pulling the last of the ID’s with you. You pushed them into your purse, zipping it up. Steve reacted quickly as well, shutting the safe and rotating the dial, pushing the bookcase back into its original position. 

“It’s Ramirez and White,” Steve whispered, looking around the room for any help. “What do we do?”

“Ramirez…” you blinked, eyes wandering around the room as well. Think, think, think. The doorknob jiggled. “Trust me.”

You ripped your purse off and threw it to the nearest couch. You hooked your arms around Steve’s neck and jumped to wrap your legs around his waist. 

“Oh my-”

In any other scenario, the whimper that left your throat would have been caused by a surge of ecstasy. But you were frightened of being caught, the whimper a blatant signal to just follow your lead. 

“Slam me into the wall, Captain.”

The door flew open just as Steve did as he was told. 

“And I told him it was ridiculous - oh my…”

You lifted your head from Steve’s neck, wide eyes to accompany your surprised state. “Oh! I thought we locked the door!”

Ramirez covered his eyes bashfully, turning around and staring at the wall. “Don’t mind us, we were just looking for loose smokes.”

Opposite to his intruding partner, White laughed at the scene before him. He dipped low, hands on his knees as he joked. “Didn’t think Captain America had it in him! Been a stiff ever since the ice, huh mate?”

You could feel Steve tense against you, and he froze entirely. You drew your hand up to play with the strands of his hair, putting on your best flirty tone possible. “Oh, trust me. He’s pretty stiff right now.”

Steve seemed to calm under your touch, so he turned his head over his shoulder and gave an embarrassed smile of his own. 

“Excuse us again, Y/N. You two enjoy your time,” Ramirez apologized, pulling at White’s jacket to guide him out of the room. Once you heard the click of the door, you jumped from Steve’s grasp and immediately began patting his back. 

“I’m sorry.”

Steve chuckled, his blush rising from his shoulders to his cheeks. “It’s okay, you saved us.”

You inspected him closely, a little embarrassed with yourself. It was a bold move, but one that needed to be done. You stood in silence for a few more seconds, each of you adjusting to such a sudden change of breathing pattern. 

You shut your eyes and groaned silently, “I need to speak with him.”

“Can I wait outside the door?”

You picked up your purse and swung it around your torso, “No, you need to wait in the car. Or smother Ramirez and White, your call.”

The lines on Steve’s forehead deepened, “Y/N, I can’t leave you alone with him.”

You wanted to argue further because Steve really over exaggerated. You fought a whole army of aliens, robots, and even the infamous Winter Soldier. Sure, you lost the battle with Thanos on the first try, you lost a teammate with Ultron, and gained a collapsed lung from Bucky’s insane roundhouse kick, but you were positive you could take your father. “You’re gonna have to. I’ve been alone with him before.”

Steve placed his hands on his hips and gave you a blank stare. “He shot you last time.”

“Ehh, Seda did.”

“Y/N.”

You laughed softly, “Then wait in the living room.”

“The shield’s in the car. If you need help, I may not have enough time-”

Steve and that goddamn shield. The guy was acting like he wasn’t a super soldier. You were annoyed. Annoyed with a pinch of salt?

“You whip that shield out to save me and I swear to god-”

“Okay, okay. I’ll link our mics.”

He fumbled around on his phone for a few seconds before you heard the softest beep from below your ear. 

     The last time you had entered that room alone, you left with a bullet lodged deep in your abdomen and with the threat of having it done again. Stumbling and crashing into the walls and random trinkets, leaving your blood stains on anything you used to steady yourself. This time would be different - it had to be. Your father wouldn’t shoot you with the Captain America waiting in the other room. Then again, your father always seemed to top himself each time you were forced to interact personally. In an instant, he dropped the good guy act. Or, hyped joy. 

Now, his stare was cold and calculated, posture upright like he was awaiting your arrival. You couldn’t help but smile and roll your eyes, a tiny scoff breaking the silence as he returned it. 

“You’re one damn good actor.” 

He chuckled deeply, “We do what we have to do in front of the people who threaten our reign.” 

You kicked the leg of a nearby chair to turn it toward you. Sitting down, you retorted with a chuckle of your own. “You’re not royalty.” 

“We are... you are.”

Third in command. Daughter of the biggest drug lord south of the border? In most cases, you could be considered goddamn royalty. Did you want to be? No, because the title that seemed to fit was ‘a chess piece in the middle of a mad supremacy’. But that was too long.  

“So, what is this? You scared my Captain is gonna knock you off your feet and take your place?” 

His hands slammed the desk. His little basket of pens and pencils toppled over and spilled onto the floor. “I have waited seven, long years for you to bring that man to me. And each time you defied me. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now!” 

You remained seated, a blank stare boring into your father’s. “Uh, probably because he would avenge me. Get it?” 

He wasn’t one for jokes, though. “It would be so easy.” 

Aggravating him further was not the smartest thing to do. And Steve had the same thought as he fumbled with his own thumbs outside, hearing the conversation from afar. He almost wanted to barge in just to put your ass in time out. 

But you had seven years to make up for - a little joke here and there shouldn’t hurt much. 

“You do know I’m an Avenger, right? Trained by Natalia Romanoff herself?” 

You worded your sentence carefully, her alias need not be spoken out loud unless you needed backup. 

“Answer me.”

When his nostrils flared, you knew better than to twist the knife. 

“Steve didn’t sign the accords. He was on the run for two years before you asked me for him. This is public knowledge.”

He pointed his index finger at you, shaking it wildly. “You lie. Why you lie?”

You had to blink multiple times through your shocked state, mouth agape and involuntarily racks of laughter spilling. He couldn’t be serious. You could only repeat the same thing so many times. 

“Like I said all those years ago - He. Was. On. The. Run. No contact. I had no way of contacting him!”

He struggled to grab whatever on his desk to raise toward your face. In this case, he pointed his phone in a threatening manner. “Excuses! Remember the last time you made such a poor excuse?”

The laughing stopped, your mouth immediately shutting. You clenched your jaw to work through your murderous impulses. 

You wondered how your hands would look wrapped around his neck. Red and angry, tightening as each desperate second passes, nails forming crescents as they pressed in his skin. If there was a window, you would definitely kick him out of it. Wave goodbye as he fell dramatically. But the mansion was one story high and you couldn’t magically conjure up a window. God, this would be the absolute best time to have Wanda or Loki here to use some of that dark magic. Either way, you just wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face right now. 

“He. Was on. The run.”

“And I thought you learned your lesson.”

You stood from your seat and leaned on the desk, arms holding you up and face inches away from his. “You gonna send in your men to remind me? With my Captain a few feet away?”

His lips were trembling as much as yours were - face blotchy with silver droplets of sweat and an angry blush now reaching his forehead. For a seventy-five year old man, he still had such a rage in him that didn’t risk a heart attack. Lucky bastard. 

“He best not interfere if it’s what I choose to do.”

Outside, Steve gripped the back door handle to the point it squished in on itself, metal twisting awkwardly and splintering the paint. His free hand was balled into the meanest fist, even his stubby nails wreaking havoc on his pale palm. He was making himself bleed by the restraint. He took slow breaths, eyes closed but ears fully alert. He wouldn’t cry. Not right now. 

“I called you back alone to invite you to breakfast the day after tomorrow.”

Whether it was because he knew you were only a few seconds from lunging yourself across his desk to break his neck or because he was tired from all the energy he had just exerted, your father slumped back into his seat as he spoke. 

“The hotel has free breakfast.”

He shook his head in complete astonishment, “You’re not getting out of this. I have important business to discuss with each of you.”

You continued to stare him down, “Over coffee?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “I can’t leave the estate so close to the wedding. Your sister is flying in tomorrow and I have to make sure construction is done by then.”

“Right, ‘cause you’re the best father in the world.”

Being in the same room was suffocating, but you couldn’t help but be fascinated by the man. How unbelievably thoughtless yet calculated he could be. How unbelievably fake yet so damn real in all his hidden meanings.

“Jackeline likes to think so.”

Your sister was sweet, sure, and there was an unspoken agreement between the two of you to not fight one another, being the only daughters and all. But you were eight years old when she was born, already tainted by the world in which she was just born into. Forgive your lack of sisterly bond. When you were sixteen, you dipped. Now, at the sprouting ages of twenty-six and eighteen, you two couldn’t be more different. 

Actually, yes you could. If she thought your father was a good man, she was entirely ignorant of the world she lives in. 

“Good for her. Why don’t we discuss the shipment transport during the most important day of her life?”

“Nice try. That’s what the rehearsal dinner is for - rehearsal.” 

You gave your father a sad smile, “You really won’t trust me. After all these years of following your orders.”

“Now, let’s not go bringing up the past.”

You interrupted, “Why not? You’re trusting my Captain and I to help you move that shipment but won’t trust me enough to tell me where it is right now?” 

He was back to standing but he was much calmer. “Right now, I trust your Captain more than you. What kind of man would leave everything moral behind for a bunch of criminals? A bad one.”

“You’ve known him for like, two seconds.”

Your father searched his pockets for loose cigarettes. “He left everything moral behind for me. For you. And you left me behind for everything moral.”

Rolling your eyes, you backed away from his desk and headed for the door. “Sometimes you don’t make any sense. Is that it? Are we done?”

“You accept my invitation?”

“Do I really have a choice?”

“No.” 

     The mansion seemed larger than when you entered, the hallways longer, the walls closing in, the trinkets reaching out to stop you by the wrist. The longer you stayed in this hell hole, the more likely you were probably going to unleash the rage attached to your body in the form of your favorite weapons. Bomb the hell out of this place. 

You marched to Steve’s car. He was already waiting, leaning along the passenger door like he was going to open it for you. If he did, you might kill him too. So, you repeatedly snapped your fingers at him and pointed around the car, silently but angrily motioning him to get in. He didn’t need to be told twice. In fact, he thought it might be therapeutic for you to throw the door open and slam it yourself. It was. 

Steve started the car. He didn’t need to ask, there was no reason to since he heard everything. And so did Sam. Bucky. Scott. It was being transcribed as you swerved out of the estate. God, you wanted to throw up. 

“I’ll tell you when to stop.” 

Steve choked on his breath, “Stop?” 

You rolled down the windows to breathe in the crisp cold air, teeth becoming sensitive as it passed into your lungs. “Once we get past the cameras and nearby neighborhoods.” 

“Did you need-“ 

“When I say stop, stop. Fucking damn, Steve! Listen to me for once!”

Steve didn’t know why he was challenging you. Your father had just brought up one of the most traumatic moments of your life, basically called you a hypocrite and a coward - he tried to tear you down. And here you were, holding it all together like the champ he found you to be. But he never handled your outbursts well, even if they were completely justified. 

“Don’t fucking give me orders if you won’t tell me what they’re for!”

“Stop the fucking car!”

He slammed on the breaks, instincts still kicking in during your argument and he reached his arm out to your side to hold you back from the powerful surge. His body lunged forward, however, chest hitting the steering wheel and horn. 

You scrambled out of the car and ran into the woods, feet guiding you through mud and prickly bushes until they reached a more secluded spot. Steve stumbled along after you, nearly tripping over the same rocks you had avoided masterfully. 

Before he could ask what you were doing, you pulled your gun from its hidden holster and clicked the safety. Steve’s eyes bulged out of his head just in time to see the first round sound off mid-air. He crouched down to the floor and shielded his head. You shot away from him, obviously, until all seven rounds were dislodged, aimed in the sky diagonally. 

Once the last bullet exited, you simply packed everything up. Now calm and collected, you turned around and headed back for the car.

Steve’s voice cracked as he spoke, “Seriously?”

You pushed branches away from your head as you walked, “Seriously.”

“Do you know how dangerous that is? Those bullets don’t just disappear into thin air,” Steve scolded, jogging up to speed walk beside you. 

“So fucking what? I’m keeping the rent low in this area, then.”

Steve sighed in defeat, “Talk to me.”

“Sorry, I’m shutting down.”

“Y/N-”

You groaned, tears of frustration not entirely formed, but in their beginning stages. “You already know what’s stressing me out, Steve. Do you need it in writing?”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Steve lowered his voice. “What do you need me to do?”

“Just,” you paused, stopping to face him. You opened and closed your hands mid-air as if that would help you formulate your sentences better. “I don’t know. But when I find out, I’ll let you know.”

This Steve could accept. So he simply nodded, guiding you the rest of the way with his hand gently placed on your lower back. 

     The drive back to the hotel was fairly silent. The radio provided a calming relief from such drama. Steve would glance at you every so often to check on you, but you were always resting your eyes. This was only the first day of the mission - officially. If you were this drained from one encounter, Steve needed to rethink this whole operation. Whether it was healthy to keep you on, or if the threat was just too large. But no matter the alternatives, Steve understood that this week was going to be difficult either way, and you needed to be present. This was your mission after all. He was just your partner. 

Even with a thousand things on your mind, you were still conscious enough to check your surroundings, check-in with the agent posted behind the front desk, and reconnect your mic with the teams. 

Steve pushed open your room door and threw the car keys on one of the nearby tables. “Nap time?”

You ignored his initial question, “I didn’t think seeing them in person again would be so draining.”

Steve watched you carefully, somewhat scared that you would pull out your gun again and shatter a window. “It was pretty cramped.”

You started to disarm yourself, tearing off your sweater and holsters clumsily. “And they acted like we were all on good terms! Around you, at least. I know they’re acting for my sister’s sake and then we can go back to hating each other after, but really?”

Steve sat on the edge of his bed, eyes sorry. “I really don’t know what to say.”

You threw yourself onto your bed, burying your face into the pillows. You continued speaking, albeit muffled. “You don’t have to say anything - just let me rant.”

“You’ll tire yourself out, Y/N. C’mon, we gotta draft up this report-”

You lifted yourself up and started smoothing down your hair, “I need a drink.”

Steve pointed to the computer, “The report.”

“A drink.” 

“Y/N, it’s getting late. The sooner we draft it, the sooner-”

You grumbled out again, already opening the door and shoving your boots on. “Steve, I need a drink. You know what they do to me, what they’ve done to me, what they continue to do every single day. Now, join me or not but I am going downstairs for a drink.”

Steve paused for a moment, looking around the room hesitantly. “Can I at least take the laptop?”

You threw your head back and walked out the door, “Take the goddamn laptop, jesus fucking christ, c’mon.”

     If there’s one thing you were happy about today, it was that you booked a hotel with a mini bar on the second floor. It wasn’t an outright full bar, but it was low lit, clean and the counters were made from fine wood, and there was a variety of flavors to choose from. There were only a few hotel guests spread out and a single bartender. You and Steve took seats at the counter. 

“Whiskey sour,” you called for the bartender, trying and failing to give him the nicest smile you could. 

Steve settled in his bar stool, “Thought you wanted to drink to drink hard.”

You chuckled at him and extended your arms in a stretch, “I’m mad, not depressed.”

He grinned at your movements - as if just sitting in a bar already loosened you up. “In that case, get me a beer.”

     Natasha had called Steve for help after your fourth beer and fifth whiskey. Her coaxing proved to be pointless, each request of a safe passage home seeming to enter one ear and leave the other. And you’ll end up killing her when you were sober enough for sending unwanted reinforcements, but even she didn’t want to fight you. If you wanted to drown in liquid courage, that courage churning itself into raw despair, then she would allow it. 

Steve stared at you for a few moments. Head hanging low, a deep frown etched into your tired expression, index finger tapping your glass as if you were debating whether to down it in one go or to leave it. Steve had never seen you like this, guard destroyed and face practically pale, just begging to be left alone. And it seemed the whole bar felt the same way, as there was no music playing and everyone was wallowing in their own grief. 

“I can spot you from a mile away, you know?”

Your voice immediately pulled Steve from his own mind and he was surprised you could still form coherent sentences given the amount of empty glasses in front of you. 

“I don’t mean to interrupt.”

You scoffed, leaning away from him as he sat down in the stool beside you. “Natasha sent you. Don’t tell me otherwise.”

“I’m not saying anything.”

“Good.”

Steve ordered a beer for himself, and although he was driving, one beer wouldn’t impair him anyway. It wouldn’t even cause a dent in his 20/20 vision. 

“Fucking ridiculous, it’s fucking ridiculous!” 

The bar patrons seemed to wince simultaneously and the bartender simply gathered a few of your empty glasses to wash. Steve didn’t hush you, didn’t touch you, didn’t try to reassure you. If you needed to cause a scene, it was time. Your silence for the past week had been frightening, but when Tony returned last night, half dead and without the kid, it seemed to be your breaking point. 

“Wanda destroyed it. She destroyed the fucking stone and all he did was use another to bring it back.”

Steve took a sip of his beer to disguise his quivering lip, but his eyes had no curtain. His waterline swelled with fresh tears, eyes instantly reddening, an undesired sting pinching the corners. 

“Strange must have had a reason. He must’ve, but - how can that reason include the death of trillions?”

“We’re going to find a way-”

“And if we don’t?”

Steve kept his lips on the bottle, incisors biting down only slightly as he took in your rhetorical question. You continued speaking.

“He destroyed the stones.”

“Carol is looking for answers.”

You shook your head and pulled out your wallet, leaving whatever cash you had on the counter before standing up. You stumbled but Steve latched onto your arm and pulled it to hug his waist. 

“Loki?” you mumbled, raising your head to lock eyes with Steve. He didn’t know if you were calling him another name or if you were asking for the God’s whereabouts. “Bucky?”

“Hey, stop, stop.”

“Peter?”

Steve could only nod. What use was it to lie to you? Your new vertical position seemed to magnify the true extent of your intoxication as your eyes finally glazed over and limbs trembled. 

“Let’s get you home, okay?”

Gripping his shirt, you apologized each time it would crumble and you would accidentally tug it downward. But Steve didn’t care. You were practically limp in his arms, heavy and without proper use of your legs. 

“You’re a good man, Steve.”

Steve sighed sadly but couldn’t help the small smile that formed as he looked down at you and found you sporting a silly one of your own. 

“A really good man. I’m happy you’re still here.”

Steve paused for a moment, taking in your words and holding back his own tears. If there was a time he wanted to be drunk off his ass, it would be now. He was somewhat jealous of the brief relief alcohol had given you, loose and not fully aware of the drama of the world. “I’m happy, too.”

“No, you’re not,” you slurred, allowing Steve to guide you to his car. You slumped against the passenger door as Steve searched his pocket for his key. “I heard you crying last night.”

Steve halted his search mid-pat, a hard crease forming between his eyebrows as he lifted his head. “I wasn’t-”

“I cry too,” you admitted, a drunken pout on your face. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

Perhaps it was a dirty thing for him to do at this moment because you wouldn’t remember a single word of this conversation in the morning, but he figured there was no immediate harm. He found his key, unlocked the car, and helped you inside. Only once he entered the car himself did he take advantage of your blurry mind. 

“I cried for Sam and Bucky. Who do you cry for?”

You clicked the seatbelt on, mind clear enough for safety precautions it seemed. “Poor Wanda.”

Steve nodded and started the car. “Anything else?”

“Did I ever tell you about the time Loki asked me on a date?”

Steve immediately shut off the car and turned to you. “Huh? When?”

You grinned, small giggles bubbling from your chest. “A few months ago. He was so shy, too. I said yes.”

Steve ignored the twinge in his chest, “How was it?”

You leaned your head back and tilted it towards him, your smile faltered slightly. “Never went on it. And now he’s dead.”

The urge to lean over and wrap you in a much needed hug was there, eating away at him since you called him a good man. But he had taken advantage of this situation far too much, so he simply nodded in understanding and started the car again. 

“I’m sorry.”

You barely heard him, but you mumbled a quick response before letting the alcohol fully consume you. “Me too.”

     You thanked the bartender when they slid you your drink. “I hadn’t seen him since before the world went to shit.” You took a quick sip. “Kinda strange.”

Steve nodded, wondering if he should dive deep into the issue at hand. Instead of outright saying his outdated spiel, he eased into it. He gave you a few needed sips of your drink, at least.  “Y/N, can I ask an honest question?”

You hummed, “My toes are already tingling. You could probably ask me what my kinks are and I’d tell you.”

Steve suddenly burst into a fit of giggles, “You never could handle a sip of alcohol.”

Your eyes rounded at his reaction. Perhaps the alcohol affected him in other fun ways that he didn’t know. “Nope, I’m a lightweight.”

Steve contained himself before clearing his throat, “The question…”

“Go ahead.”

He rolled his shoulders and took a sip of his beer. Leaning in closer, he lowered his voice. “If it comes down to it, and god forbid you’re incapacitated, do you want me to kill your father?”

Your mouth opened slightly, the words stuck behind your tongue. You looked down at your drink, as if some special response was swimming in it. You knew your answer, but the way to phrase it was lost. 

“I don’t want his blood on your hands.”

“But if it was the last choice?”

You sighed, “If you pull that trigger, they’ll never stop coming after you.”

Steve’s eyebrows scrunched together, “But if you pull it?”

You shrugged and raised the glass to your lips. “That’s my life, Steve. Let me deal with the consequences.”

“That’s just it - you don’t have to. At least, not alone.”

God, you hated how perfect Steve sounded all the time. Whenever he was annoying you, fighting you, or protecting you, his syllables were stretched in the most glorious way, dipping into every crevice of the person they were delivered to and warming inches of body slowly. You wanted him to have somewhat of an evil side for once in his life, but no matter how many times you thought he would explode, he didn’t.

Two years ago, when he dropped you from his life in an instant, you had assumed you finally caught a glimpse at this evil side. It was the only time you were truly scared of him. 

“You really are a good person.”

Steve swished his beer bottle around, “I wish everyone would stop being surprised by that.”

“I’m not surprised. I guess I just want to hate you, and I can’t.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped like crumbling mountains and you couldn’t stop thinking about how vulnerable he looked. You wanted to pull him closer and rest your head to his chest, hear his heartbeat and apologize for theorizing a possible hatred. 

“Why do you want to hate me?”

“When you wouldn’t sign the accords, part of me saw that as the mascot of America not caring if he invaded and pillaged everything in his path.”

“But I-” Steve interjected, but you stopped him by raising your hand and waving it gently. 

“I know why you didn’t. Hell, I helped you escape.”

“Why did you help if you hated me?”

Being vulnerable with Steve wasn’t anything new. You were each other’s support system for those lonely five years, but it all changed the moment you defeated Thanos. So, for the last two years you didn’t quite get along. But here, now, you could always tell when Steve was being honest and open. 

“Guess I thought that if you were willing to help me with my family, I should help you with yours.”

His therapist desperately tried to rationalize the experiences Steve would tell, instructing him to look past hard exteriors and accept help from others. That his old friends were still friends, and enemies should never be compared to those he loved. And he knew he was easily blinded when something or someone had the slightest mishap, instantly writing it off as harmful. 

He spoke of you often during his one hour sessions - stories of your blatant silliness and crude jokes; how you would poke your finger into his sandwiches when you thought he wasn’t looking; how you almost beat up a kid and his little gang for baiting Peter after his identity was exposed; and how you and Sam had gotten into a bar fight over something so trivial, so unnecessary, that it was almost unbelievable to see you innocently scoot away from the body on the floor in the police video, as if you had nothing to do with it and those few feet of distance automatically cleared you. 

His therapist would just listen. 

“Did I ever thank you?”

You smiled sadly, “You went into hiding soon after. Then we went to battle, lost everyone, went to battle again, and then…”

“And then.”

‘And then’ wasn’t really something you two liked to bring up. It was still a fresh wound, somewhat patched up, but still open. 

You spaced out for a few minutes, both of you enjoying your drinks. You were no longer drinking to get drunk, not that it was your original goal to begin with. You just sat in comfortable silence, reliving the events earlier that day and drafting an internal report. 

“What are you thinking about?”

You pursed your lips and thought, clicking your tongue when it finally dawned on you. “This was the first time I saw Marcus White sober.”

Steve sat up straighter, “Are you sure? He didn’t look it.”

“Yeah, he usually speaks quickly and he fidgets. But he was coherent this afternoon.”

“Should that be a red flag?”

You took out your phone and sent a quick text to Torres for him to monitor White closely for the next few days, just in case. “A big one. My father referred to him more often than he did Ramirez.”

Steve tackled every idea in his head quickly, speaking as a new one popped up. “They could be planning a move against Ramirez. He’s close to overthrowing your father.”

You raised your head from your phone, “And the wedding would be a perfect distraction.”

“He would kill his greatest rival on your sister’s happiest day?”

You let out a low chuckle, “This man has nothing to lose. It won’t matter who he topples along the way.”

Steve opened the laptop, silently congratulating himself for bringing it despite your insults, and began drafting the report. The two of you worked for the next hour, nursing a couple more drinks before you sent the final copy to Bucky. 

~

TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress​

[official-weasley]

Double the Joy - (The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley AU)

Warnings: scolding a child, fluffy family stuff

Word count: 4,585

Characters: Charlie Weasley and my OC Nova from TICW which you can find here

A/N: I still suck at writing baby talk so I am expecting an army of toddlers to get me soon! 🙈

Nova

“Alright, so then we place this one here...”

Charlie was sitting on the floor with Aoede and they were doing a puzzle together. It was gifted to her by Arthur when she turned 3 but she didn't show any interest in it until this morning when she found it in her room and the second she showed it to us Charlie had to promise her that they will complete it after lunch.

The puzzle is of a dinosaur mum and her newly hatched baby. I found it amusing but not at all surprising because Arthur loved Muggle things and for some reason, Aoede was more than intrigued by them too.

Charlie, on the other hand, wasn't very pleased that Aoede was more excited about some giant Muggle chickens that don't even exist any more than dragons but once they had the frame down, he got into it.

“Dad, we need another piece hele!” Aoede pointed her tiny finger to where she noticed a piece was missing and they both started to search for it on the big pile they set up together to easily find the right puzzle piece.

I was half laying on the sofa, sipping on my tea and observing them bonding. It was better than Tom and Jerry or any other show or cartoon. Every time they were doing something together I took my time to just stare and admire them. Aoede might be a miniature me but in so many hidden ways she was just like Charlie and I loved to figure those things out and later point them out to him because it meant so much to him to know that she caught some of his genes as well, besides his red hair.

One of the first things I noticed was the way she gets angry – it's all of a sudden and she gives it her all – and Charlie is the same. They both don't know how to handle their temper. With Charlie, I got used to it. With Aoede, it's adorable – for now.

It's also how she frowns and presses her lips together when she is mad. Charlie does the same expression and since she copies so many things after me, I think she got that one from Charlie – probably when he comes home mad when one of the dragons was disobedient and his interns didn't know how to handle it properly.

It shows the most, however, when they cook together. The way they both concentrate when they are measuring things or how they mix the ingredients in the pot. Aoede bends over when she searches for something in the fridge the same way Charlie does and she tends to lower her voice while baking for some reason and I didn't notice that Charlie does the same until last week when he had a sudden inspiration to make banana bread.

Being more than 8 months pregnant, I couldn't do much. Unlike the morning sickness when I was pregnant with Aoede, I feel constantly tired with this one so I am mostly resting and taking every opportunity I can to nap.

At first, it bothered me because I felt so useless, and seeing Charlie being so busy with cleaning and cooking while still going to work and playing with Aoede, I felt like I am not contributing much. The second I expressed my concern, Charlie was quick to calm me down saying that being pregnant and granting his wish to have another baby was contributing enough.

As always, I tried protesting for a few days and even cooked a few meals and bathed Aoede a few times – despite that being one of Charlie's favorite things to do because they splash each other and flood the bathroom. At first, Charlie just glared at me and said nothing, knowing full well that I was stubborn enough to try my best. But the second he saw that it was draining me and that I started sleeping more and more he made me stop and I finally gave in.

Now, I love my quality time on the sofa because I usually have the honor of watching Charlie play with Aoede and it's just the most beautiful sight of how much he loves to spend time with her and how much fun Aoede is having when she has daddy's full attention.

“Okay, we did that part, now to the tail...” Charlie started searching for puzzle pieces again, while Aoede came to me, gave me a gentle squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.

She did that every time she thought that she was spending too much time with her dad and was making me jealous. Every fifteen minutes or so she would pause whatever she was doing and take the opportunity to come and show me that she loves me too.

A knock on the door disturbed our precious little moment and I started to get up.

“I'll get it, love, no need to get up.” Charlie lifted his hand at me to stop me.

“No, no. You two are busy. Let me go, I have to stretch my legs a little anyway.” I smiled at him and he bestowed me with an appreciative smile back, clearly having the best time with his daughter.

I slowly made my way to the hallway and opened the door.

“Good evening!” Bill grinned the second he saw me, his eyes moving from mine to my belly, before pulling me in a hug.

“Oh, my, you are getting big! I can't believe less than a month to go!” Fleur exclaimed and embraced me too.

“Aoede, your godparents are here!” I shouted toward the living room.

“Sorry, dad, I have to go.” I heard Aoede whisper to Charlie before she started running toward us.

“Uncle Bill, uncle Bill, uncle Bill, uncle Bill!” Aoede crashed into Bill with such force that she almost knocked them both over.

“Look at you!” Bill took her in his arms. “Since when are you so big?”

“Uncle Bill, you saw me less than a month ago!” Aoede giggled.

“I know, but still. You must've grown for a full head!” Bill exaggerated.

“Nuh-uh! Tell him, auntie Fleul, he is lying!” Aoede leaned closer to Fleur to hug her too before returning to pay her full attention to Bill's ponytail failing to make it into a braid.

“'e's right! You 'ave grown!” Fleur tickled Aoede's belly, loving how easily entertained she was.

“Look, uncle Bill, auntie Fleul! Daddy and I ale making a puzzle!” Aoede grabbed both of her god parent's hands and rushed them to the living room the second Bill put her down.

“Dinosaurs,” Bill sniggered, “let me guess, a gift from grandpa Artie?”

“Yes!” Aoede lifted her hands excitedly in the air.

“I can see Charlie iz very 'appy about dinosaurs.” Fleur pressed her lips together not to laugh as she sat next to me on the sofa while Bill joined Charlie and Aoede to finish the puzzle.

“So, 'ow are you?” Fleur put her hand on my knee, her eyes that were glued to my belly were sparkling.

“I am about the same. Still very tired but it's almost over.” I sighed and smiled at her.

“You are doing great and it will be worth it once you zee your new baby.” She exclaimed.

I narrowed my eyes at her – she was hiding something. Bill and Fleur were married for 2 years now and we have become really good friends and it's been nice to not be the only girl to marry into the Weasley family. They visit us often, especially now that the dark times are behind us and Aoede expresses that she misses her favorite aunt and uncle.

Only Charlie, Bill, Fleur, and I know that Aoede loves them the most and promised that we won't tell anyone else in the family no to crush their hearts as they all fought to be the favorite of their only niece.

Since we see each other more often, I had the chance to get to know Fleur better which meant I learned when she was hiding something. She has been very supportive ever since we told them and the family that we are pregnant again and even offered for Aoede to stay with them for a week at Shell Cottage so Charlie and I could get a breather and be properly excited about the expecting bundle of joy.

I was used to her asking me how I am and how I am dealing with everything and she even expressed a wish that she wishes to be a mum herself. But her grinning and having sparks in her eyes was something new – as if she couldn't wait to share something with me.

“You are on to me, aren't you?” She giggled as I didn't stop reading her face.

I only hummed in response before looking at Bill who's head was tilted, observing Aoede completing the puzzle with the same sparks in his eyes. I pursed my lips, going full detective mode on this.

“Will you say it on your own or should I just guess?” I smirked, locking eyes with Fleur.

“Guess what?” Charlie looked at us and I wiggled my eyebrows at him.

“William, Nova knows.” Fleur pretended to be disappointed.

“Knows what?” Charlie asked confused.

“How did you know? She isn't showing yet.” Bill furrowed his brows.

“Not showing yet?” Charlie's eyes were jumping from Bill to Fleur to me and back.

“Oh, I don't know, perhaps all the sparks in your eyes.” I giggled and pointed at both of them, leaving poor Charlie confused.

“I told you she will figure us out!” Fleur's cheeks turned slightly pink.

“Okay, somebody has to fill me in!” Charlie didn't look amused at all.

“As I said – will you tell us on your own or should I make a guess?” I cocked an eyebrow at them, giving them one last chance.

“Somebody please just say it.” Charlie ran a hand across his face, looking completely done.

“Let Charlie guess!” Bill laughed, pointing at his brother.

“But –” Charlie frowned at him before giving it some thought.

“So, Nova already knows and it involves both of you and it has to do with sparkling eyes and Fleur not showing something yet.” Charlie had his eyes narrowed, scratching the stubble on his cheek.

Bill, Fleur, and I were watching him solve this mystery, hardly keeping it together. Bill pretended to help Aoede with the puzzle while Fleur and I avoided eye contact not to start laughing. After about 30 seconds of Charlie's gaze switching between his brother and his sister-in-law, his eyes widened in realization.

“Fleur, you're pregnant!” Charlie put his hands over his mouth as Fleur nodded excitedly.

“Not you too!” Before either Charlie and I had a chance to congratulate them Aoede decided to share her opinion on the matter.

“Aoede, you should hug Bill and Fleur and be excited with them,” I said gently and got bestowed with a frown from my daughter.

“Yeah, don't you want a cousin to play with?” Charlie added.

“No!” Aoede stood up, shaking her head. “Couldn't you do this soonel so mum didn't have to get anothel baby?”

Bill and Fleur stared at her with their mouth open. They heard and knew about Aoede not agreeing with mine and Charlie's choice to have another child but they have never witnessed it until now.

“Aoede, that's enough!” Charlie said with a warning voice.

Aoede, who had her mouth slightly opened – ready to say something else – turned to her dad, frowned some more then sat back down in front of her puzzle pretending to search for a piece even though the puzzle was completed and sniffed so silently that I almost didn't catch it.

Bill and Fleur silently exchanged a look while I glared at Charlie who has never risen his voice at Aoede before and even though we couldn't enjoy and celebrate this pregnancy as we did with the first one due to Aoede always having something to say about it, we agreed to be patient with her in the hopes that she would come around.

“Uhm, I need some fresh air,” Bill cleared his throat, “don't you need some fresh air too, Charles?”

Bill nudged his brother and they both stood up. I smiled appreciatively at him and mouthed congratulations not saying it out loud not to get another negative reaction from Aoede.

When they closed the door leading to the back porch behind them, Fleur and I joined Aoede on the floor.

“Sweetheart...”

“Not now, mum. I am busy.” Aoede pretended to sigh, thinking she could hide that she was sobbing.

“Can we 'elp you?” Fleur tilted her head, hoping Aoede would look at her.

“No,” Aoede shook her head, “no, thank you, auntie Fleul.” She tried mustering a smile but failed and instead of her lips curving, she shed another tear.

“Aoede...” I searched for anything to say to her.

It was breaking my heart seeing her this way, trying to hold in the tears and pretending that Charlie's warning voice didn't hurt her.

“Shh, mum. I'm playing.” Aoede lifted her hand at me to stop me from saying anything else.

“Let's give 'er some space,” Fleur whispered to me and stood up.

I was observing my daughter for a moment or so more before Fleur nudged me with her foot to join her.

Charlie

“That was something,” Bill said after we were sitting on the bench in silence for a moment.

“Yeah. I don't know what got over me. I never raised my voice at her before.” I shook my head.

I was ashamed of myself – it was wrong and I should've handled the situation better.

“Yeah, it was evident that this never happened before,” Bill said gently.

“Nova and I promised to each other that we won't talk about the pregnancy in front of her and I guess it just got to me. We were so excited to have another baby and you know I want a bigger family and I just wish Aoede would share that excitement with us.” I pressed my fingers into my eyes.

“She'll come around. I was even younger when dad told me mum was pregnant with you and I was in complete shock trying to convince them that they were wrong.” Bill laughed.

“Wait what?” I asked, incredulously. “You never told me this before.”

“Yeah, I was mad and did not want you at all and now look at us. I can't imagine my life without you.” Bill put an arm around my shoulders and ruffled my hair.

“But you were always so nice and took care of me.”

“Yeah, you and your cute freckles grew on me.” He winked at me.

“How long did you need to warm up to me?” I wanted to know.

“You would have to ask mum that. I only remember that I threw a tantrum when I had to stay with aunt Muriel when you were being born. Don't you remember how angry you were when mum was pregnant with Percy? You were about Aoede's age.” Bill giggled.

“I do not remember that at all,” I answered honestly.

“We were both mad. I liked the idea of just being the two of us and when our parents told us that they will have another baby they ruined that fantasy and I remember we made a pact about not liking the baby.” Bill was clapping his hand against his knee, laughing so much.

“So we should expect the alliance between Aoede and our second-born when we'll have the third one?” I playfully shook my head.

“Yeah, get ready for that.” Bill gasped for air.

“Thank you for telling me this, Bill. I feel more hopeful that Aoede will come around but even worse about shouting at her.” I bowed my head.

“You're welcome and you'll apologize to her.”

“Mhm,” I mumbled, looking up at the starry sky.

“So you still don't know the gender of the baby?” He asked after us being silent for a few minutes.

“Nope. We loved the surprise when the doctor told us Aoede is a girl and we want to do the same this time around.” I grinned.

“I don't think we'll be able to do it.” Bill rubbed his chin. “We're just so excited, you know!”

“Oh, now I can finally say congratulations!” I embraced my brother. “I can't believe I'm going to be a dad again within a month and an uncle in...”

“About 8 months.” Bill finished my sentence. “And thank you. Fleur isn't even a month in so you are the only ones who know for now.”

“Understandable.” I nodded.

“So,” Bill nudged me with his elbow, “any fatherly wisdom to share?”

“I can't believe there is something I can lecture you about and not the other way around.” I chuckled.

“Yeah, you beat me to it.” Bill joined me.

“Well, up until the moment you witnessed inside before, I reckon we have been pretty great with our daughter. Treat your child as an adult and talk to them and pay them attention and value their opinion as much as you can. Children are smarter than we give them credit for and always listen to what they like and try making them happy with those things.” I pursed my lips, trying to think of more things.

“How about the pregnancy? Is it normal to feel left out?”

“Oh, yeah. I felt terrible when Nova had morning sickness and I couldn't do anything about it.” I sighed. “But I have learned that just being there for her and encourage her and tell her she is doing great goes a long way.” I grinned.

“Right.” Bill was focused, taking every word I said in.

“Also, try and do as much as you can around the house and for her so she can have a proper rest.”

“Of course.”

“Oh, and massage her feet every time you remember. I know Nova would kill for a foot massage especially in the final months when their feet get really swollen.” I explained.

“Got it.” Bill nodded.

“Other than that just be excited and celebrate every moment. Honestly, we were obsessed with Aoede before she was even born.” I giggled. “You mean how you told her stories and sang to her while she was still in Nova's belly?” Bill sniggered.

“How do you know about that?” I felt the heat on my cheeks.

“Nova wrote me about it.” He winked at me.

“Well, it's sweet and you'll turn all mushy too once you become a dad.” I lifted my chin, proudly.

“I have no doubt about that. I can't wait.” Bill couldn't hide the excitement in his voice.

“You're going to be a great dad.” I patted him on the back.

“If I'm half a father you are, I'll be proud of myself.” He smiled at me and I couldn't help but return it – that compliment meant a lot to me.

Bill was always better in most things we did and he always beat me in everything. But I guess when it comes to being married and having children, I was more experienced and it felt nice to give him advice instead of receiving it for a change.

“Speaking of being a good father...” I cleared my throat and looked at the door.

“Go, go talk to your little girl.” Bill encouraged me and we stood up.

Nova

“She obviously wanted to be alone,” Fleur said in a low voice when we sat down at the kitchen table, my eyes still on Aoede.

“I know but – “ I pressed my lips together.

I knew that if I would say another word my voice would break and I would start to cry – my hormones were getting the best of me. We found the whole thing about Aoede not wanting a sibling funny and we knew that sooner or later she would warm up to the baby but now that I saw how hurt she was when Charlie stopped her from sharing her opinion with us, I realized how serious this was for her.

“Waz zis ze first time Charlie raised 'is voice at 'er?” Fleur put her hand over mine.

“Yes.” I nodded and finally turned to her.

“It must've shocked 'er,” Fleur said understandingly. “Mhm.” I hummed not really knowing what to say.

“Are you okay? I can zee zis is eating you alive,” Fleur said with concern in her voice.

“I have no memories of how I was when I was her age and being an only child I never had to deal with such information and it pains me that I can't relate to her or help her get through this.” I brushed the tear that ran down my cheek away.

“I 'ad no idea she iz zo against it.” Fleur was a bit shocked.

“Yeah, it came to a point where Charlie and I started to question if we made a mistake getting pregnant again.” I sighed, remembering all the moments when Aoede got mad when we discussed anything about the pregnancy.

“But you want a bigger family.” Fleur tried cheering me up.

“That's true but the first time around, we celebrated – just me and Charlie. This time we wanted Aoede to join us and share this happy moment with us and she is just not having it and how are we supposed to be excited about it when our daughter is completely miserable over it?”

“She will come around, trust me. I waz ze same.” Fleur chuckled.

“You were?” I brushed another tear away before looking at her.

“Of course! I zink all children are. When my parents told me about being pregnant with Gabrielle I wanted to run away from 'ome!” Fleur laughed, reminiscing on the memory.

“And when did you come around?” I sniffed, a bit cheered up.

“When zey brought 'er from ze 'ospital. When I saw 'er and saw that my parents wanted to include me and still loved me ze same, I calmed down and in a few weeks I was prepared to die for 'er.” Fleur sent me a smile.

“I hope she will be the same.” I looked back at Aoede, who was still sitting in the same position.

“Trust me, you 'ave nothing to worry about. You celebrate your second baby without worry.” Fleur stood up and hugged me tightly – as tightly as my big belly allowed her.

“Thank you, Fleur. Your words really eased my mind.” I murmured.

“Any time.” Fleur smiled and sat back down.

“And congratulations. I am so happy for you two.” I tried to sound excited and whisper at the same time, not wanting to upset Aoede again.

“Zank you! We couldn't be 'appier!” Fleur clapped her hands together.

“How far along are you?” I wanted to know.

“About three weeks. We are not telling anyone else yet but we wanted to tell you.” Fleur was shaking from excitement.

“Oh, our babies are going to be so close in age!” I jumped in my seat.

“I know! I never thought we are going to be pregnant togezer!” Fleur grinned. “Any tips?”

“Well, be prepared for the morning sickness which kicks in at about six weeks, and try to not overwork yourself even though you feel very energetic. Listen to your body even if it has weird food combinations in mind for you to try,” I giggled, “and ask Bill to often massage your feet. That feels so good when they get all swollen.”

“Oh, I can believe that!” Fleur chuckled.

“Other than that, listen to what your doctor says and advises you and try not to think about it too much and with that I mean just try and continue your daily life as much as you can. I went to work until my 5th month and I would continue to go if Charlie wouldn't protest so much.” I playfully rolled my eyes.

“Do you think Bill will be ze same?” She laughed.

“Oh, yes, most definitely! Be prepared for that!” I joined her.

After our giggles quieted down, I looked at Aoede again.

“I will try talking to her again,” I said to Fleur and stood up.

Right when I reached her, Charlie returned with Bill.

“Love, let me handle this.” He whispered to me, avoiding my eyes.

“No, I can do it.”

“Please, I feel bad. Let me fix my mistake.” Charlie pleaded. “I shouldn't have reacted as I did and I want to apologize to you too. We promised we will give her time and I snapped.”

“Okay.” I smiled at him and kissed him on the lips.

I watched him sit down next to Aoede and then joined Bill on the sofa, who welcomed me with his arms wide open.

Charlie

“Pumpkin, can I sit next to you?” I asked Aoede with a gentle voice.

“Yes,” Aoede replied, her head bowed down, looking at the puzzle.

“Do you have the time to talk?”

“Mhm.” She mumbled.

“Daddy wants to apologize for how he talked to you earlier. I was wrong and I am sorry.” I wanted to hug her so badly but I knew we weren't there yet.

“It's okay dad, I undelstand,” Aoede said with her cute voice.

“It's not okay,” I shook my head, “I shouldn't have lost my temper with you.”

“But you love the baby.” Aoede finally looked up at me, her red and puffy eyes broke my heart.

“I do, Pumpkin, but that doesn't mean I love you any less.” I dared to move a bit closer to her.

“I just don't want anything to change,” Aoede sighed, “I like that it's just you, me, and mum.”

“I know, Pumpkin but as mum and I told you before, nothing will change. We will still love you the same, treat you the same, give you the attention and play with you.” I ruffled her soft hair.

“You plomise?” Aoede bestowed me with the sweetest puppy eyes that I have ever gotten.

“I swear on my job.” I crossed my heart and smiled at her.

“But,” Aoede gasped loudly, “daddy, you love youl job!”

“Exactly, but I love you and mum and the baby more so that's how you know that I am not lying to you.” I gestured for her to sit in my lap and she climbed over my leg.

“Okay,” Aoede took a deep breath, “I will tly and do bettel.”

“Aoede, it's okay. I understand. Your uncle Bill and I were the same when we found out about your uncle Percy. I know how you feel now and I shouldn't have reacted as I did. I should've been more patient with you and give you time.” I frowned, still disappointed in myself.

“Do you and mum want this baby?” Aoede looked up at me.

“As much as you want to see a unicorn.”

“That much?” Aoede stared at me in awe. “But that is a lot!”

“Yes, that much.”

“Okay, daddy. I will tly to want the baby too.” Aoede pushed more into my body and I wrapped my arms tighter around her.

“You will?” I asked surprised, not expecting this outcome at all.

“I will. I sweal on a unicoln.”

I gasped dramatically, knowing how much unicorns mean to her, and made her giggle. As she turned around and looked at me lovingly with her big blue eyes, it warmed my heart knowing that we will be just fine.

[imaginationintowords]

Folklore [song series]

epiphany

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff; Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years

[warnings: death]

word count: 3168

Age: 21 Year: Sep. 2015 Location: Brooklyn, NY

"So I was thinking, godparents," Bucky spoke up. He and Natasha were currently finishing setting up the baby's nursery in their new apartment.

They had found a nice two bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, much to Natasha's dismay. Bucky thought it was the perfect place to start their new little family. It was also about a 20 to 30 minutes drive to Bucky's work and University campus. His mom and stepdad had even offered to help them out financially for a bit, just as long as Bucky continued on his path to graduate with his Masters in Music Technology in the Spring.

Bucky had managed to finish his bachelor's and masters program in just the span of 4 years, a whole year earlier than originally planned. He was proud of himself, if there's one thing he hadn't screwed up yet, it was his education. He had fully devoted himself to his education the last four years and it clearly paid off. He had also managed to get a good paying job at a studio as an engineer. He had his whole future all planned out, the pregnancy might've been a curve ball at the beginning but with the help of his family and therapist, he was handling it all so well.

"Oh you don't need to worry about the godparents, I have it all figured out already," Natasha tells him as she folds baby clothes, "I picked Abigail and Dylan."

Natasha on the other hand had decided to put her education on hold. Deciding she wanted to be a stay at home mom, Bucky constantly made sure that that's what she wanted. And she insisted every time that she was "made to be a stay at home mom". So Bucky had to reluctantly allow her to make that decision. 

Which was one of the reasons why his parents had offered to help out for at least the first year or two, they had known their son was already stressing about finances, and trying to respect Natasha's decision. They figured two years would be a good enough time for the couple to build up their savings.

Bucky didn't like the fact that his parents were helping out with money, but he knew him and Nat wouldn't have been able to make it just on is current income alone. At least not until after he graduated, his boss had already promised a raise once he graduated, but that wasn't until May and the baby was due in the next two weeks.  He promised to pay his parents back every cent they gave him, but they told him to just focus on being a good father.

"Abigail and Dylan?" He questioned.

"Yeah," she shrugged her shoulders.

"The same Abigail and Dylan that showed up to the baby shower high, and proceed to get drunk, because and I quote 'babies are so boring'. That Abigail and Dylan?"

"Come on James, they were just joking, plus baby showers aren't necessarily the most fun thing in the world," she rolled her eyes.

"Can we at least each choose one godparent?" He suggested, "You can have Abigail as the Godmother and I can choose The Godfather."

"Like Sam?"

"No, not Sam. Steve," Bucky tells her.

"Oh, then no," she simply said, turning her back to him to continue putting clothes away.

"What's your problem?" Bucky asks annoyed, finally having enough of her attitude, "This entire pregnancy you've been against everything I've suggested."

"Hey, you got to choose Brooklyn," she turned around pointing her finger at him.

"Yeah because I couldn't fucking afford Manhattan Natasha," he stressed, trying not to raise his voice at her, "You didn't want to know the gender of the baby? Fine. You get to name the baby? Fine. You choose the color scheme of the nursery, fine. You choose the hospital. You choose the apartment. God damn Nat, I haven't done a single thing but pay for everything."

"And I thank-you for that," she rolled her eyes.

"But you don't," he shakes his head in disbelief over her reactions, "You haven't thanked me once. I get that you're carrying our child, and I'm appreciative of that. But god damn Natasha, show me some respect. Show my family some respect!

"You didn't thank my mom, Rebecca, or Keith for everything they've done for you. For us. And I can't keep making up excuses to defend you," he raises his voice a little bit.

"If this relationship is ever going to work, you need to be respectful. You need to stop being so selfish. I get this isn't easy for you, but trust me, this isn't easy for me either. But I agreed to do this. I am stepping up. I want to be a part of my child's life. And I want us to be together and be family," he calms down, "But if you continue to act this way. I won't stay in this relationship."

"You're just going to abandon us?" Natasha asks grabbing her belly, suddenly realizing the reality of the situation.

"No, I won't abandon you both. But we won't be together," he explains, "I will always be in my child's life. I will always be there for them. I'm not going to put my child through the same thing I went through growing up. I promised myself I would never do that."

"So if that means that you and I break up, then so be it Natasha, I'll do it," he tells her, "My child will not grow up in a toxic household."

"Okay," she agrees, tears in her eyes, "I promise I will be better."

"Don't promise me Nat, just show me."

Two and a half weeks later Bucky found himself rushing an in-labor Natasha to the hospital, it was a quick k10 minute drive from their apartment. He quickly called his mom as the nurses wheeled Natasha away, with Bucky following.

Bucky's mom arrives within the next 10 minutes, as the nurses begin to prep Natasha in her hospital room.

Bucky sent a quick text to Steve and Sam, letting them know it was showtime and that he'll call them once the baby is here.

"How's Mama doing?" The doctor asked while entering the room, quickly taking her spot at the foot of the bed to examine Natasha.

"It hurts," Nat cried, as Bucky tried to soothe her.

"I know, but unfortunately you were too far dilated when you arrived, that it's too late for the epidural," the doctor softly explains, "But the good news is I feel Baby's head, so it's time to go."

Natasha looked over at Bucky, completely scared.

"It's okay," he assured her, "I'm right here. Everything's going to be okay."

He leaned down an placed a soft kiss to her lips, helping her relax a bit.

"Ready?" The doctor looks up at Natasha.

"Yes," Natasha nodded, grabbing a hold of Bucky and his mom's hands on either side of her.

10 minutes later, a soft cry was heard in the room. Bucky quickly glanced over to where the doctor was had finished pulling the baby out.

"Congrats Mommy and Daddy, it's a girl," she announced.

"A girl?" Bucky whispered in awe, tears filling his eyes. He looked over at Natasha, who looked a lot paler in color.

"Nat?" He called out for her.

Her eyes fluttered shut, her limbs went limp, and all the monitors started to go crazy.

The doctor quickly cut the umbilical chord and handed the baby off to an awaiting nurse.

"What's going on?" Bucky panicky asked.

"Get them out," the doctor told a nurse, ignoring Bucky's question.

A nurse quickly escorted Bucky and his mom out of the room.

"She's going to be okay right?" He asked his mom, tears streaming down his face.

"I don't know honey," she honestly said, wrapping her arms around her son. She never thought the first hug they shared after him becoming a father would be like this.

She continued to hold him, soothing him as she made silent prayers pleading for Natasha's safety.

10 minutes later. The same 10 minutes it took for them to arrive to the hospital. The same 10 minutes it took Natasha to bring their daughter into the world, the door opened.

Bucky quickly pulled apart from his mom to see the doctor walking out of the room.

The doctor's face was filled with sorrow. Bucky's mom immediately put her head down, already knowing the outcome.

"How is she?" Bucky asked.

"Mr. Barnes, Natasha had a postpartum hemorrhage, due to issues with her placenta," the doctor carefully explains, "Unfortunately, there was too much blood loss. We weren't able to save her. She died."

Bucky immediately broke down, his mom quickly caught him. The doctor placed a reassuring hand on his back.

He quickly pulled away after a couple of minutes, "The baby. How's the baby?"

"She's good. They took her to get checked just as a safety procedure," the doctor tells him, "She's on the pediatric floor. Would you like to meet her?"

"Yeah," he says, then pauses, "What about Natasha?"

"We can come get you to say goodbye once we get her cleaned," the doctor tells him.

"Okay, thank you," he says.

The doctor takes him and his mom to the pediatric floor. The walk was silent. No one knowing what to say. Bucky was no longer crying, but he felt numb the entire short walk. The doctor knocked quietly on a door, before opening.

"Doctor Monroe, this is Mr. Barnes, the baby's father," the doctor said, before stepping aside to let Bucky in, "Mr. Barnes, I'll have someone come get you when it's time."

"Okay, thank-you," he nodded his head.

"Are you ready to meet your daughter?" Doctor Monroe asked, Bucky nodded his head.

"Meet your Daddy baby girl," the doctor said, gently handing the baby over to Bucky.

Bucky looked down at the small baby in his arms. He was instantly overcome with so many different emotions. The doctor walked out of the room, while Bucky's mom watched from outside threw the window.

"Hi baby girl," he whispered, sniffling back his tears, "You're so beautiful. I'm your dad. And boy am I lucky that you chose me to be your Dad. I always imagined this day would've turned out a lot differently. But life sure knows how to throw some real curveballs."

"Your mom would've loved you," he paused, letting it all sink in. His daughter will have to grow up without a mother. No little girl should have to be without a mom.

"I'm so sorry," he cried, as the baby was lulled to sleep, "I am so sorry your mom won't be able to physically be here. I am so sorry you'll have to grow up without her. No one should have to grow up without a parent. And trust me, I know what that's like. But lucky for us, I had the greatest pleasure of being raised by the most strongest and kindest mother. She taught me everything I know. Your grandma is the best lady you will ever meet. Lucky for us because god knows we're going to be needing her a lot.

"But you and I are incredibly fortunate that we won't ever be alone. We have so many people who care about us. You'll have all the female leadership you can ever need. We can do this," he strongly said to the sleeping baby, "You and I. We can do this. And I promise you this, that no matter what happens, you will always have me. You're stuck with me for the rest of your life. My love for you is greater than anything, anyone I've ever loved. My love for you will always be easy and unconditional. You'll never have to prove your worth to me. You're worth more to me than you can ever possibly imagine. I love you."

Bucky placed a soft kiss to his daughter's forehead. The first kiss he will ever give her, but definitely not the last.

There was a soft knock at the door, he gently called for the person to come in.

His mom quietly opened and closed the door behind her, stepping to her son's side.

"She's beautiful," she smiled down at the little baby.

"She really is," Bucky beamed. He looked over at his mom and noticed she was holding a clipboard, "What's that?"

"Birth certificate," she tells him, "One of the nurses gave it to me. They said there's no rush to fill it out. You have time."

"Here, I can do that," he said gently holding the baby out for her to take.

"Are you sure?" She asked, switching with him.

"Yeah, I have a name anyways."

"What is it?" She looked over at the name written down:

Poppy James Barnes.

[flashback]

After that talk Bucky had with Natasha, he noticed a serious change in her attitude. She was beginning to be more relaxed and more selfless. Bucky felt a tiny weight lifted off his shoulder. Hoping that these changes in her personality would stay.

"So what do you think about James for a boy?" Natasha asked one night, as she and Bucky made dinner together in their small kitchen.

"For a middle name?" He asked confused.

"No, his first name."

"Oh," he paused, "I actually have never liked the idea of giving a child their parents' name. I feel like it doesn't really give them a chance to be their own person. If their parent is successful then they feel the stress of always having to live up to that. And if their parent is crap then they're forever stuck with that reminder of that person."

"That makes sense," she agreed, understanding where he was coming from,

"Then how about James for the middle name. Whether it's a boy or girl."

"I would actually really like that," he smiled at her, "I would like that a lot."

They gathered up their own plates, and sat at their small round table.

"So what other names have you come up with?" Bucky asked her as he took a bite of his chicken.

"Truthfully, I haven't found any good names. All the girls keep making suggestions and they're way too out there," she tells him, "I don't want them to have a name that's too hard to pronounce or spell."

Natasha's phone started to ring, Bucky got up to grab it for her from the living room. By the time he handed it over to her it stopped ringing.

"What kind of flower is that?" He asked her, noticing her phone's Lock Screen background.

"The California Poppy," she tells him.

"Why do you have that as your background?"

"Well my mom was actually from California," she says, "She met my Dad when they both went to Harvard. They fell in love, so she decided to stay out here on the East Coast.

"The only clear memory I have from her was all the stories she used to tell me about poppy season. How the color just made everything so lively. Her parents would take her every season. I remember seeing all the photos of her as a child surrounded by all the flowers. We looked a like as children," she fondly smiled,

"She always talked about taking me to go see them, but she and Dad were always so busy. Then she got sick and there just wasn't a way for us to go. My grandparents tried to get some out here but it was too late. I never did get to see the poppies."

Natasha was silent for a moment, letting what she said sink in. She's never told anyone that story before, the memory would always make her sad. But now sitting here with Bucky, pregnant with their child, for the first time in her life her mother's death didn't bring her such sadness. She could smile at the memory and know she had the utmost best time with her mother, even if it was short lived, she knew her mother loved her. And she can't wait to shower that love onto the baby inside of her, once they were out.

"We should go," Bucky says, "Once the baby is here we should go when it's poppy season. Plus it'd be nice seeing Steve and Liz's life out west."

"Yeah, that sounds nice," her eyes teared up, seeing how generous this man was in front of her, "I'd really love that."

"Poppy, that's cute," Winifred smiled.

"Yeah, Nat would've loved it."

"They said if you were ready, you can say your goodbyes," she carefully said.

"Okay, you're good with her?"

"Yeah. Do you want me to go with you? The nurses can watch Poppy."

"No. I'd feel much better if she was with family," he tells her, "I'll be fine mom. I can do this."

He gave her a kiss on the cheek before leaving the room.

"Take all the time you need," the nurse told Bucky, as she led him to the room Natasha's body was in.

"Thank you," he quietly said.

She opened the door for him, and he carefully stepped inside.

He walked closer to the body on the bed. He immediately started crying at the sight of her lifeless body.

"God Nat," he cried, "I am so sorry. We never even discussed the possibility of this ever happening. I never even thought of this happening. God I don't know how I am going to ever do this alone. I never imagined myself ever raising a child alone."

He takes a moment to catch his breath.

"She's beautiful Nat, so incredibly beautiful," he tells her, "I wish you would've been able to see her. Hold her. I'm going to make sure she knows everything about you. There's not going to be a day where she doesn't know about her mother."

"When poppy season arrives I'm going to make sure to take her. Every year," he wipes away a tear, "Oh, I also named her Poppy. For you. For your mom. I promise I won't let you down. She's going to have the best life ever. I'll make sure of that. Thank-you for everything you've given me. I truly did love you. Goodbye Natasha." _________________ Age: 22

Location: CA

Year: May 2016

The car comes to a stop, parking in a spot next to a bunch of other cars. Bucky, Liz, and Steve get out of the car. Steve and Liz grab a few things from the trunk, while Bucky gets the smiley baby out of the car seat. Bucky places the baby into the stroller, Steve had gotten out. The three of them began to walk towards the field of poppies.

"Wow, there's a lot this year," Liz says, "Do you want to take her out?"

"Yeah, I'll grab her," Bucky says grabbing Poppy.

He walked ahead of Liz and Steve, taking in the moment with his daughter.

"Look at all the poppies," he whispers to the almost eight month old. She had a huge smile on her face taking in the sight around her.

She was making some babbling sounds, as if to agree with her dad.

The weather was perfect. The sun shining down on them, it wasn't too hot or too cold. Bucky just stared at the flowers, with a peaceful feeling washing over him. The last few months haven't been the easiest, but he was making it. They both were making it. Being here, gave him the reassurance that he was doing good. He could feel Natasha's presence with him there. As if she was silently saying how proud she was of him.

"We're going to be fine," he said to Poppy, placing a kiss on her head.

[hoboal87]

Baby Mine

Title: Baby Mine

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader, Jody, Alex, Claire, Bobby

Word Count: 1600+

Summary: You and Sam prepare for the birth of your son.

Warnings: post 15 x 20, fluff, implied dom/sub relationship, non-graphic descriptions of labor, breastfeeding.

A/N: This is my super late entry into @superbadassnatural​‘s #333 badass followers challenge. My prompts are “I didn’t expect it to be this big,” and “this is disgusting”

A/N 2: This is set in the same universe as “The Tie,” and “Carry On,” but it can be read as a stand-alone.

No Beta, all mistakes are mine. I have tense issues, I know.

My Full Masterlist

Miracle’s head lies on your lap as you do your best to remain calm. You can feel the wetness of her nose against the small sliver of your exposed belly. It was unseasonably warm for South Dakota in the spring, and if you could’ve you would’ve been walking around naked all the time. Growing a Winchester has not been an easy task, and your doctor informed you at your last check up the baby will be at least 9 lbs.

Nine. Freaking. Pounds. You’re going to be pushing a nine pound baby out of your body, and Sam was already talking about having another one in a few years! You can’t even imagine wanting to go through all this again. Even though Jody and the mothers you’ve befriended over the last few months have assured you, that you’ll forget about all the bad, all the sickness, all the discomfort you’ve been feeling the second the baby’s born.

A clattering from your bedroom pulls you out of your head, giving you a moment of reprise. Sam’s muffled swears have you giggling as he frantically tries to pack your hospital bag. Jody had advised you to pack one over a month ago, but you and Sam had been so focused on making sure the nursery was ready, as well as warding your home, that you hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

Another grunt comes from the hall as Sam seemingly runs into your bathroom, and then into the nursery, where the baby's coming home outfit was luckily laid out on the changing table. By the time Sam makes it back into the living room, he’s nearly out of breath, eyes falling on you as your face scrunches in pain.

You’ve been in the early stages since last night, but you’d woken up to much more intense contractions a few hours ago. Sam takes your hand in his as you wince as a contraction rolls through you. He eyes the watch on his wrist, Dean’s watch, keeping track of the duration and time between each wave of pain.

“Y/N,” Sam whispers, calming himself when your eyes connect to his. “I think it’s time.”

“Alex said 5 minutes,” you huff, rubbing your swollen belly and giving him a pained smile. Having a nurse in the family was the best thing you could ever ask for. Alex, on the other hand, probably wishes she wasn’t, especially after Sam started calling her in the middle of the night with the most ridiculous questions that you’d ever heard of. You’d finally gotten him to stop, apologizing to Alex for another 3 a.m. frantic phone call about the possibility of the baby being born extra appendages.

Once Sam had adjusted to the news of your pregnancy, he dove deep into research, not that you were expecting anything else from him. Parenting magazines cover your coffee table, multiple books on pregnancy and birth are stacked on his bedside table, and he’d watched every youtube video relating to pregnancy and taking care of a newborn.

“I know, but baby we’re getting there. You’ve gone from 10 minutes to 7 in the last hour. The parenting book said–” You roll your eyes, your inner brat coming to the surface after months of being stifled. “Babygirl,” Sam tone changes, and you instantly relax at the phrase you haven’t heard in nearly a year. “Don’t think I haven’t been keeping track of all the punishments you’ll be getting as soon as you can handle it.”

It's just the distraction you need, and your eyes divert to the car seat against the wall.

Sam had tried and failed twice already on installing the carrier in the back seat of the Impala, spewing profanity as you watched, chuckling from the front porch. After nearly an hour, Sam gave up on the car seat, and joined you on the porch, his hand splaying softly over stomach. He leaned over, and placed a sweaty kiss on your lips, it was moments like those that Jody told you to cherish; and both you and Sam made it a point to do so.

“Then you better figure out how to properly install that in the back seat,” you sass.

An annoyed laugh leaves Sam as he glares at the yet-to-be defeated carrier, hesitating now to leave your side.

“It can wait.”

“It really can’t, babe,” you chuckle softly.

It’s less than an hour later that you and Sam pull up to Sioux Falls General Hospital. He’s holding you steady as you waddle towards the check-in desk. An orderly appears with a wheelchair, and wheels you away as Sam hands over all of your pre-registered paperwork. Alex is by your side before you realize it, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. She helps you dress into a hospital gown, and Sam rejoins you just as you take a seat on the bed.

Sam watches helplessly as your face contorts as another contraction rolls through your body. You squeeze his hand tightly, sure that you’re leaving crescent-shaped marks on him. This one is different than the others, it’s more intense, and longer-lasting than the others had been.

“Y/N, look at me, baby, you’re doing so good,” Sam praises as you whimper through the contraction. Sam leans forward and presses a kiss on your forehead as the pain subsides. “You’re so strong, Y/N.”

“I didn’t expect it to be that big.”

Five hours later, you’re cradling your newborn son against your chest. Sam’s behind you, whispering praises in your ears and holding you tight against him. You present your breast to the babe, encouraging him to latch on, and to your delight he does so quickly. Sam makes a joke about how Dean was always a boob man, and you comment how his namesake must’ve inherited his predilection as well.

Sam tenses behind you, and you quickly realize your mistake. Dean was always on your mind, and moreso Sam’s, but you rarely, if ever, said his name out loud. It seemed to pain Sam to hear his brother’s name, so you avoided it as much as you could. But now the baby is here, and you wonder if it's a good idea to name him after the fallen Winchester.

Sam’s hands are wrapped around your still swollen center, and you turn your face to his. Tears are escaping from his hazel eyes, and when they meet your Y/E/C ones, he gives you a small smile.

“We don’t have to name him Dean,” you offer, even though you honestly couldn’t think of a more fitting name for your son. “If you don’t–”

“It’s not that, baby,” he sighs, wiping at the fallen tears. “I just– I miss him. Dean should– he should be here. He should be here to meet our son.”

You nod, and focus your attention back on the newborn, suckling gently at your breast. One of Sam’s hands leaves your stomach, and his fingers brush against the infant’s soft skin, remarking that he’d never seen a baby with so much hair, and that he looked so small. You chuckle, and remind him that if he had to push a nine-pound watermelon out of his body, he wouldn’t think it was small.

Sam concedes, unable to contain his laughter, and the brief tension that was in the room disappears and doesn’t return. After little Dean is finished, you and Sam take turns counting his fingers and toes, cooing at your son as you take in all his features.

A nurse returns, and you reluctantly let her take Dean away to be properly cleaned, weighed and measured. She instructs both you and Sam to sleep while you can, joking that you’ll be getting very little from now on. Thanks to Sam being a human incubator you curl up against him and let all of the exhaustion from the last 24 hours finally catch back up to you.

You're woken by Sam a few hours later, informing you that Jody, the girls, and Bobby are outside. Sam slips from behind you, and disappears out of the room for a moment before returning with your found family. Jody’s eyes are filled with tears, throwing her arms around you, congratulating you as Bobby claps Sam on the back.

The same nurse returns with Dean as everyone settles in their places around the room. Jody instantly fawns over the baby caressing his chubby cheeks before allowing Sam to pick him up and hand him over to her.

Jody makes a solid promise to spoil the boy rotten. Claire’s body language changed when Alex handed baby Dean over, and after a few minutes, didn’t want to seem to let him go. Bobby becomes impatient as Claire refuses to pass the baby on. Finally, Sam steps in, plucking the baby from her arms, and walking over to Bobby.

“You ready to meet your grandson?” Sam asks, and a smile you’d never seen before appears on Bobby’s face. Sam places the swaddled baby into Bobby’s arms, and you’re sure you see a tear slip down his cheek.

“Looks like he’s takin’ after his momma,'' Bobby laughs. “Lucky boy, hopefully you won’t be an idjit like your daddy and uncle,” he sends you a playful wink. “Just know you ain’t alone, kid. You got more people who will love and protect you than any other kid in the world.”

“Did you tell ‘em?” You ask, trying to move into a slightly more comfortable position.

“Tell us what?” Jody asks from the chair beside your bed.

“Y/N and I, we want you and Bobby to be his godparents. If anything were to ever happen to us, we want you to take care of him.”

“Well, maybe you can tell us his name first,” Claire pipes up, and you hadn’t even realized that you hadn’t told them yet.

“Dean,” Sam eyes his son still in Bobby’s arms. “Dean Robert Winchester.”

Let me know what you think via ask or reblog! Feedback is fuel!

[omgrachwrites]

The Princess and The Duke - Chapter Fifteen

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: As the Princess of Spain, you were always supposed to marry King James of England to make an alliance between Spain and England. When he marries a woman at his court for love, you are married off to his best friend, Sirius Black the Duke of Bedford to keep the alliance. However, the court is riddled with secrets and a rebel in the North starts to rise against the Throne. Royal AU.

Warnings: fluff, angst, character death

Words: 2582

Disclaimer: This Spanish was used with google translate and these gifs don’t belong to me!

Translations: I must be in heaven because I see an angel - debro estar en el porque veo un angel.

You have always been one of the bravest men I know - siempro has sido uno de los hombres mas valientes que conozco.

A/N: I would like to formally apologise for this chapter, please don’t hate me! There will only be a few more chapters left I think! I’ve changed a couple of things to make it fit into the story better, please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged, I love you all! xxx

Chapter Fifteen - A Little Fall of Rain

Sirius grinned as he wrapped his arms around his little girl as he helped her hold the reins of the horse properly, delighting in her little giggles. The village was as quaint and beautiful as Sirius remembered and the villagers seemed to be even nicer. Glancing over at his wife, he noticed that Y/N was in her element as she helped Johnathan sit upright at the front of her horse. Her beautiful face gleamed with happiness as the townspeople called out to her, blowing kisses and showering her with pink petals.

She looked every inch the Princess as the flower petals got caught in her shiny hair. The twins giggled as they reached their little hands into the air, trying to catch some of the falling petals.

“Do you like being back in France, my darling?” Sirius asked with a grin as they passed the gorgeous little chapel.

Y/N sighed wistfully as she gazed over at him, a small smile playing around the edge of her lips, “it’s better than I could have ever imagined.”

They had been back to France since their wedding but it had only been when Sophia had moved to French court, where they had spent their visits. The Duke and the Duchess hadn’t stayed at their beautiful chateau since they had got married, so they took the opportunity to ride through the little villages that lay in the shadow of the chateau.

Sirius grinned at her answer as a petal stuck to his lip; he chuckled as he blew it off, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I know,” she fixed him with a teasing grin; “I love you too.”

Sirius laughed as he glanced back at Andromeda who was grinning at a handsome French boy frim where she sat on her horse, making Sirius roll his eyes. Andromeda was Y/N’s new lady in waiting and she was Sirius’ cousin which seemed to be the best option. Y/N really liked her, maybe too much since she had asked Andromeda to tell her embarrassing stories about Sirius from when he was growing up. Andromeda was someone that Y/N wouldn’t be suspicious of. It was the best solution for everyone.

As the small party made its way out of the village they bid goodbye to the kind townspeople, Y/N blew them kisses and Sirius waved at them before they finally crossed the grey stone bridge that had been built over the rushing stream. When they reached the gorgeous chateau nestled in the hills, the twins gasped and pointed at it while Y/N sighed happily.

“It’s so beautiful,” Andromeda breathed as they rode through the portcullis.

“I’m so happy that we did this,” Y/N beamed and reached across to take Sirius’ hand, Sirius grinned and kissed her fingers as he nodded.

Lily and James had offered Sirius and Y/N some time off, Lily had assured Y/N that she would be fine with her other ladies to help her. Sirius had accepted the time off before his wife could refuse. It was admirable that Y/N was so attentive in her duties to the Queen but it was clear that they both needed some time off. Before they had set off for France, the King and Queen had asked Sirius and Y/N to be the godparents to their unborn child which Y/N was very excited about.

The servants of the chateau were very happy to see that their Master had returned to them alive and well, they had no doubt heard about the troubles that were happening in England. Once everybody had settled and unpacked their luggage, summer wine and cakes were served in one of the beautiful gardens.

Sirius and his family sat among the gorgeous roses as the twins played in the gently flowing stream. Sirius loved to hear them play together, he was determined that they would grow up as best friends, unlike him and Regulus. Andromeda smiled as she lay beneath one of the trees with her eyes closed.

“I love it here; I can see why you two wanted to come back so much.”

Y/N sighed wistfully as she nodded, her head tucked against Sirius’ chest as she traced circles over his warm skin, “it will be even harder to leave but we all needed a break,” she rubbed her temples and Sirius pulled her closer, stroking through her hair gently with his long fingers.

“Okay, new rule, let’s not talk about court while we’re here,” Y/N grinned and nodded, leaning up to sweetly kiss his cheek. Sirius turned his head so she kissed his lips at the last moment, making her giggle into the kiss.

Andromeda sat up, looking over at Sirius and Y/N with a sly smile on her face, “so, when are you two going to have another baby?”

Sirius rolled his eyes while Y/N gasped happily as she took his hand. Everybody had been asking them that lately and it was starting to annoy Sirius but Y/N loved it.

“I would really love another child as soon as possible but Sirius doesn’t think so,” she pouted up at him.

Sirius sighed as he pressed a kiss against her forehead, “I just think that we should wait a little bit longer, the twins are only two and soon enough we’ll have our hands full with the Royal Prince or Princess,” he laughed while Andromeda nodded understandingly, “we’re being safe,” Sirius nudged Y/N’s shoulder with a smirk before he took her hands in his own, “I promise that we will have more children.

Y/N gave him a beautiful grin as she kissed his lips, giggling when the soaking wet twins jumped into her arms so they could dry off in the sun.

The merriment of spending a week in France, where they did nothing but lounge around in the sun was over too soon. Y/N and Sirius had filled their nights with love making and had spent half of the morning sleeping in. Sirius knew that Y/N was especially sad to leave France; it was hard for her to hold back her tears as they rode away from the chateau. Sirius promised that they would be back soon.

Once Sirius and Y/N were back at English court – where thankfully the weather was as warm as it was in France – they got right down to business. They were trying to locate the missing prisoners who had branded themselves as Death Eaters, followers of Voldemort who was now much more than a fable. Sirius thought that there was a traitor at court.

The whole court was in attendance in the stuffy Throne Room when the door burst open and a bleeding man stumbled through it, “Sirius,” he mumbled weakly as he fell to the floor and Sirius realised with a jolt that it was Regulus.

“Regulus!” Y/N gasped as Sirius ran over to his little brother, Sirius teared up when he saw just how much Regulus was bleeding, his shirt was soaked red and he was extremely pale, shivering in Sirius’ arms.

“Get a doctor!” he looked behind him to see everyone standing with their mouths agape, Remus was the first one to shake himself out of it and he hurried to find a doctor while James dismissed the court.

“No,” Regulus said weakly as he choked on the blood that was filling his mouth, “I’ll be dead before a doctor can get here, you were right, you were always right. I nearly got away,” he winced and spluttered.

Sirius shook his head as tears spilled down his cheeks and it felt like a dagger to the heart to see his baby brother die in his arms, “you’re not going to die, I won’t let you die.”

Regulus chuckled weakly, “you’re such a good brother, always looking after me, if only mother could have seen how amazing you are. Sirius, I’m scared, I don’t want to die alone,” Regulus’ eyes were round and scared. Sirius hadn’t seen him look like that since he was a little boy when he used to sleep in Sirius’ room after a bad dream.

Sirius shook his head as he sniffled, “there’s nothing to be scared of, and you won’t be alone. I’ll stay with you,” he held Regulus close to his chest.

Regulus glanced over at Y/N and gave her a cheeky smile, “debro estar en el porque veo un angel.”

Y/N sniffed as she gave him a watery smile, “siempro has sido uno de los hombres mas valientes que conozco.”

Regulus smiled and looked back at Sirius, “I’m not going to say goodbye because I’ll see you again.”

Sirius nodded, “I’ll see you again,” there was a ghost of a smile on Regulus’ face as his breathing slowed and eventually came to a stop. Sirius sobbed as he brought his brother’s limp lifeless body close to his chest, it felt like a part of his heart had died alongside Regulus, his baby brother.

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Sirius’ profile looked sad and tense and you knew the reason why, Regulus’ funeral had been beautiful but it was something that should never have happened. You were so heartbroken so you knew that Sirius must be feeling even worse, after his baby brother had died in his arms. He’d been a hero and he’d died a hero’s death, he had tried to thwart Voldemort and for that he would be forever honoured.

You knew that Sirius was also worried because an old sorcerer who had been banished by James’ father had contacted the King, telling him that he had news of a prophecy that affected James, Lily and their unborn child. James didn’t much believe in prophecies but he decided that it couldn’t hurt to listen, his benevolent nature had allowed the sorcerer to return to court, but only if his information was good. James had sent for you, Sirius, Remus and Peter to hear the prophecy, you were the ones that he trusted without question.

Your husband stopped outside of the council chamber and looked at you with wild sad eyes, the grey colour of his eyes didn’t sparkle as much as they used to. He took your hands and kissed along your fingers, you were worried about what he had to say.

“Maybe,” he swallowed, “maybe you should take the twins and go back to Spain,” he sniffled, refusing to look at you.

His words caused a jolt of panic to go through you; did he really want you to go? “what? What are you talking about? Why on Earth would I go back to Spain?”

Sirius shook his head as tears stung at his eyes and you cupped his stubbled cheeks so he would actually look at you, “because I’m damaged goods, Y/N!” he threw up his hands, “first it was because my parents didn’t love me and now, my brother is dead, don’t you get it? I was supposed to protect him! That was my job! You deserve to be with someone who doesn’t have any worries.”

“Sirius, darling,” you sighed as you leaned forward to kiss him, “I don’t believe there’s anyone in this whole world who has no worries and I don’t want anyone else. We promised to be together till death do us part and even then death can’t keep us apart. Unless you don’t want me here anymore, do you actually want me to leave?”

Sirius sniffled as he wiped the tears from his handsome face and he offered you a small smile, “I don’t want you to leave. Never. I just think that you deserve better.”

You smiled as you kissed his cheek, “then I’m never going to leave, you’re the love of my life, Sirius Orion Black. I only want to be with you.”

Sirius cupped your cheek and kissed you slowly and deeply, “I love you, Y/N,” he whispered against your lips, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Sirius,” you smiled and nodded at the door behind him, “come on, we shouldn’t keep everyone waiting.”

Sirius nodded as he reached down and laced his fingers through yours as you both walked through the door of the council chambers. The table had been moved out of the way to make way for the tall throne like chairs and an old man was standing before the King and Queen. As you and Sirius entered the room, he turned to look at you, smiling benevolently as he peered at you through half-moon spectacles. With his long white hair and beard he looked exactly like a sorcerer from a storybook.

You greeted Remus and Peter as you sat on one of the tall chairs, smiling at Lily as she looked at you nervously, her hands protectively on her stomach.

James was the one to speak up first, “I don’t much believe in prophecies and the like, Dumbledore but for my wife,” he reached over to take Lily’s hand, “I would do anything, if your information proves to be good and if you can help us thwart Voldemort then you may stay at court.”

“You’re very kind, Your Majesty,” Dumbledore bowed his head as he got glass ball from his pocket, “if you would hold this against your stomach, Your Majesty,” he gave the ball to Lily, “the prophecy is about your unborn son, we will only be able to hear the prophecy if it’s close to him.”

Lily nodded and took the glass ball and did as Dumbledore said, you and Sirius leaned in as the smoke cleared and the face of a woman in huge spectacles appeared, you exchanged a worried look with Lily. It seemed that you both recognised that woman; it had been the woman that had frightened Lily at the summer festival.

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born as to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.”

Deafening silence filled the room as you felt a chill of dread run down your spine as Lily blinked back tears.

“How do you know this is about our son?” James asked, finally breaking the silence.

Dumbledore walked closer to the King and showed him an engraving on the metal part that the ball was set in, “Harry James Potter,” James read out.

James and Lily both exchanged worried glances, “we have decided on the name Harry if we have a son and we wanted him to take James’ name as his middle one, and he’s due at the end of July” Lily sniffled as she looked down at her stomach, “he’s the only one who can defeat Voldemort, Voldemort will be coming after him, and us. He’ll want to kill us,” Lily’s breath started getting short and you got from your seat and wrapped your arms around her.

“The only people who know about the prophecy are in this room, word will never be able to get back to Voldemort, we’ll be okay,” Sirius smiled but you could feel that this was only the beginning.

You glanced up through the door that had been cracked open but it was enough for you to see the back of a greasy head walking down the corridor, glancing back as he did so.

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@smiithys @elayneblack @amelie-black @siriuslyjanhvi @pregnant-piggy @lindatreb @mabelle-cherie @hxrgreeves @britishspidey @mads-bri @classicrocketqueen @sxtansqueen @hufflepuffzutara @missmulti @bruxa0007 @ourstarsailor @fific7 @galwithbluethoughts @2410slb @sunles @krismeunicornbaobei @theincredibledeadlyviper @deathkat657 @lonegryffindor2005 @writing-your-heart-out​

[electrictoes]

People Like Sunlight

For @dailysvu’s Sonny Carisi Appreciation Week

Day 7: Secrets (AKA another excuse for a “how the squad find out” fic)

Read on AO3

The Saturday morning trip to the zoo is long belated - Noah and Jesse have been asking to go for months but with one thing and another - Elliot Stabler crashing back into Liv’s life, Amanda’s father stumbling back into hers - they’re only now finding a day when they are both free from both professional and social obligations.

They meet at the entrance to the zoo, Noah calling out when he sees them approaching. Amanda’s got Jesse’s hand held tight in hers to keep her close by; Sonny has Billie on his shoulders already, and Amanda’s sure he’s going to regret telling Amanda not to bother with the stroller, that he’d carry Billie when she got tired, but Billie’s having the time of her life, shouting Noah’s name when she spots him from her vantage point above the heads of the crowd.

Liv greets Amanda first; a hug for Jesse and a wave to Billie, “I didn’t know you were joining us, Carisi.”

“Is that okay?” Sonny asks.

Liv smiles at him, “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t mean to crash your day, I’ve just been spendin’ a lot of time with Jesse an’ those animal books Noah gave her. I just wanted to-”

“I thought it’d be nice for the girls to have both their godparents here,” Amanda cut in when she spotted a question in Liv’s expression - most likely focusing on a lot of time. “And he’s carrying Billie, so I don’t have to.”

Liv nods, “It’s fine, Noah was already feeling a bit outnumbered.”

“I wasn’t,” Noah protests, but he’s grinning, “Hi Uncle Sonny!”

Sonny lets go of Billie’s right leg to give Noah a high five, then ducks his knees so that Billie can do the same - it’s endearing; Amanda loves the way Sonny is with the girls, but he’s been this way with Noah for just as long, and it’s always brought a warm feeling to her stomach, one she didn’t have a name for until recently.

By early afternoon Noah and Jesse are grumbling about their legs hurting - Billie is yet to walk anywhere so she’s doing just fine, although Sonny definitely looks like he could do with a break even if he won’t admit it - so they stop for a picnic. Jesse and Noah chase each other around the grass once they’d finished eating, Billie has dozed off with her head on Amanda’s leg and Amanda strokes a hand gently through her hair as she sleeps.

They chat quietly about their plans for the rest of the weekend, about their day so far, about the weather; it’s nice, spending time just relaxing together, the sounds of the children’s laughter making its way back to them.

After about fifteen minutes of chasing each other, Noah and Jesse return to their picnic blanket, Jesse crashing into Sonny and reaching for her water bottle while Noah sits next to Liv. Once they’ve caught their breath Noah looks over at Sonny, “Hey Uncle Sonny?”

Sonny turns to Noah, his hand on Jesse’s back, steading her as she takes a huge gulp of water, “Yeah?”

“Can you come to our house and make pancakes for my breakfast tomorrow?”

Sonny’s eyebrows knit together in confusion as Liv shakes her head at her son, “Noah, that’s not really something you can expect Uncle Sonny to do.”

“But he went over and made pancakes for Jesse this morning,” Noah protests.

Sonny resists the urge to look at Amanda as he stumbles out an excuse, “Well, only because we were-”

“He didn’t come over for pancakes, Noah,” Jesse says, turning onto her back and leaning against Sonny, feet digging into the picnic blanket.

“You said he made real pancakes not from a box.”

“He did!” Jesse yells, sitting upright and ignoring Amanda’s reminder that Billie is sleeping, “But Mommy and Uncle Sonny had a sleepover first,” she adds.

Noah’s eyes go wide and he turns to look at his mother, but Liv isn’t giving anything away.

“Hey,” Amanda says, “Why don’t you guys go over and see the sea lions again - let Billie finish up her nap.”

Jesse, who has no idea what she’s just revealed, jumps happily to her feet, but Noah - who at nine years old realises that this is kind of a big deal without understanding why - is reluctant. He wants to watch how this unfolds.

“Go on, Noah,” Liv says, “Jesse’s too little to go by herself.”

The three of them sit in silence as Jesse tugs Noah down the bank towards the sea lions - three pairs of eyes on the children and none of them on each other.

“I think spending time with Jesse and Billie is good for him,” Liv says, and then she turns to look at them both, “So, a sleepover?”

“Well, it got late an’-” Sonny starts, but Liv fixes him with a look.

“Don’t lie to me, Carisi,” she says, taking a sip from her bottle of water, her eyes drifting between the two of them.

“It’s still new,” Amanda admits, reaching over to place a hand on Sonny’s knee. “It’s not a secret, we’re just-”

“Not advertising it?” Liv nods, “Well, whatever the two of you do in private is your own business,” she says, “But if it gets serious, then-”

“It is,” Sonny interjects, resting his hand on top of Amanda’s, “It’s serious. And we will do whatever we need to, work-wise.”

“I’m really happy for you both,” Liv tells them.

Sunday morning is more chaotic than usual this week. They’re going out to Staten Island for their first official Carisi family gathering and Amanda is nervous enough without her children running rings around them both. The girls had chosen this morning to sleep until a reasonable hour for the first time in their lives - meaning that Amanda’s assertion they didn’t need to set an alarm was proved wrong - and she already feels like she’s two steps behind. Jesse has changed her outfit twice, and Amanda has given up trying to brush her hair; she leaves her in the girls’ bedroom choosing which jacket she’d like to take and seeks out her youngest who had slipped out of sight while Amanda was persuading Jesse not to select a third t-shirt - Sonny’s escaped the chaos by taking Frannie for her morning walk; no little shadows accompanying him today because no one is ready to leave the house.

She finds Billie in the living room, crouched down behind the couch and looking very suspicious.

“Billie? What are you- is that Uncle Sonny’s phone?” Billie has Sonny’s phone gripped in her sticky hands, she’s grinning down at and doesn’t look away until Amanda tries to take it from her.

“Billie’s,” she says, gripping the phone tighter.

“Give it to Momma, please,” Amanda tells her, a firm look on her face which actually works for once; Billie releases her hold on the phone just as Amanda sees the video filling the screen, “Oh- Chief, I-”

“Good morning Detective Rollins,” Garland says, smiling at her, seemingly unconcerned by having a conversation with her two-year-old at 10am on a Sunday.

“I’m so sorry,” Amanda said, “Did Billie call you? I don’t know where she-”

Before Amanda can finish her sentence, she hears a key in the lock, the sound of Frannie’s paws on the wooden floor, and Sonny’s voice sailing down the hallway towards her, “Hey, Rollins - do you remember me puttin’ my phone down last night?”

“It’s here,” she says, but before she can warn him that she’s got Garland on a video call right in front of them he’s pressing a kiss to her cheek as he reaches for the phone, his eyes going wide when he realises.

“Chief - I didn’t- everythin’ okay?” Amanda ducks away, leaving him with the phone in his hands; she picks up Billie before she can cause anymore chaos and carries her towards the bathroom to try and rid her of the sticky residue on her hands and face.

Sonny joins her in the girls’ bedroom a few minutes later; she’s brushing Jesse’s hair back while Billie runs in a circle around them. He gives her a reassuring smile, “He just wanted to check on somethin’ for the Dyer case, Billie must’ve answered it, probably didn’t even mean to,” he tells her. “And he, uh- he said not to worry about Billie, Abby used to be grabbin’ at phones and stuff all the time. He gets it.”

Amanda finishes tying Jesse’s hair back and turns to look at him, “And?”

“He didn’t say anything outright about, uh, us. He didn’t ask and I-” Sonny stops, looking down at the phone still in his hand, “Oh.”

“What?” Amanda asks, standing up and walking towards him, avoiding Billie’s invisible running track.

“Email from Garland,” he says, turning his phone towards her once he’s opened the email - the subject line is Disclosure Paperwork and there’s one file attached.

It has been the worst Friday night Amanda has worked in a long time - she had been ready to clock off at midnight; head home and slip into bed next to Sonny; he’d let her lie in a little in the morning, tell her to get some more sleep while he got up with the girls. But a call came it at 11:25 about a missing foster kid, and now it was nearing 3am, she was exhausted down to the bone and emotionally drained - and that was pretty good shape compared to Kat; equally worn down, but with a split lip, a black eye and shaking hands to go with it. Amanda had been two steps behind her walking into that room, and she’d been quick to take down the perp, but the shock of the violence combined with the sight that greeted them when they looked up - it was enough to bring the most seasoned detective to their knees.

As they grabbed their things at the precinct, Amanda found herself watching Kat, her stiff movements, her quiet, lost gaze. She knew that look, and she knew what came with it, “Where are you going now?” she asked.

“Home.”

Amanda frowned, “Is Celine still out of town?”

“Yeah,” Kat nodded as they walked towards the elevator together, “She’ll be back on Sunday night.”

“I don’t think you should be alone,” Amanda said, protectiveness coming over her.

“It’s fine,” Kat shrugged, “I’m not going to show up at my parents’ house in the middle of the night.”

“Come back to mine,” Amanda said - it wasn’t an offer. She’d worry about letting Kat into the spaces of her life, her relationship, that she’d been keeping quiet another time; her priority right now was keeping her partner, her friend safe - she hadn’t been quick enough to prevent the physical injuries, but she’d definitely sleep a little better knowing that Kat wasn’t at home on her own.

“You’ve got kids to worry about, I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” Amanda said firmly, her hand gently on Kat’s arm stopping her from walking away, “Look, we’ve got to look out for each other. You know how many times I made Carisi sleep on my couch when we were partners?”

Kat smiles at that; probably picturing Amanda forcing Carisi into her apartment after a tough shift. It was never that difficult with Carisi though - suggest dinner, time with the girls, and he’d always say yes.

“Alright, okay,” Kat gives in as the elevator arrives.

“It’ll be loud in the morning,” Amanda warns her, “But it’s better than being alone with your thoughts.”

She slips into bed later than planned; she’s set Kat up on the couch, told her to knock if she needs anything during the night. Sonny rolls over almost immediately when she touches a hand to his bare arm, and he gives her a sleepily smile, “You’re back.”

“Hey,” she whispers, “Keep you voice down; Kat’s here.”

He frowns in confusion, “Everythin’ okay?”

“Tough day - night,” Amanda tells him, and his arm comes around her in comfort, “Better she’s not alone.”

“Course,” Sonny says, pulling her little closer; he knows what that’s like. He glances up towards the door, “Do you want me to-”

“What? Sneak out the fire escape?” she shakes her head, smiling at his ridiculousness, “No, we’ve got a few hours before the girls are up, we can figure it out then.”

Amanda has slept maybe three hours when Jesse comes hurtling into the bedroom without knocking - they’re working on that - and rushes over to the bed, speaking at a volume far higher than necessary, “Mommy, Kat’s on our couch!”

“I know, baby,” Amanda says, reluctantly opening her eyes to see her five-year-old leaning in inches from her face, “She slept over. Don’t wake her up.”

“I wanna watch cartoons,” she protests. Sonny reaches for his phone on the nightstand and leans over Amanda, waving it sleepily at Jesse.

“You can watch on here,” he offers.

Jesse grins, “Can I get in bed with you?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, clambering over Amanda’s body to wiggle into the small space between her and Sonny.

“Just don’t call anyone,” Amanda says as Jesse takes Sonny’s phone.

Amanda doesn’t go back to sleep - the cheery cartoon sounds coming through the phone speaker keep her on the edge of wakefulness, but some time passes before she hears Sonny and Jesse whispering to each other.

“But the sun has been up for forever,” Jesse is saying, her negotiation head on. Too bad she’s trying to out manoeuvre a prosecutor.

“That’s because it’s summer,” Sonny tells her, “Mommy and Kat got back very late last night so we’ll let them sleep a little more first.”

“But I don’t wanna stay in bed.”

“Okay,” he says, and Amanda smiles to herself, knowing Jesse definitely thinks she’s winning this argument. “You can stay here and watch cartoons on my phone, or you can come with me to walk Frannie.”

The bed shifts beside her and Amanda opens one eye to see Jesse wrapping her arms around Sonny’s neck pleadingly, “But I want to watch TV in the-”

“Nice try,” Sonny says, tickling her sides until she lets go. “That wasn’t one of the choices.”

“Fine,” Jesse says, with no small amount of drama, “Let’s go for a stupid walk.”

“Jesse-”

“We don’t say stupid,” Jesse sighs, “Sorry Uncle Sonny.” She climbs over Amanda to get out of the bed, creeping out of the door in a way she probably thinks is quiet.

Sonny presses his lips to Amanda’s shoulder as he climbs out of bed, “I’ll make it a long walk. Want me to take Billie too?”

“If she’s awake,” Amanda says gratefully, leaning up for a proper kiss before he gets dressed.

The apartment is quiet, but Amanda still can’t get back to sleep - she heard the door go, Sonny and the girls leaving as quietly as he could get them to, but sunlight is streaming in through the curtains and she’s too awake now to drift off. She gives up after ten minutes and goes to take a shower. On her way back down the hall she hears the sound of her old coffeemaker coming to life, and walks into the kitchen to see that Kat’s awake; the bruise on her eye is purpling but her lip looks less swollen than the night before, “Good morning.”

“Hi I was just making a coffee-” Kat gestures to the machine, she looks a little uncertain, or maybe that’s just the tiredness seeping in.

“It’s fine, make yourself at home.”

“Thanks for letting me stay, it was good not to wake up in an empty apartment,” Kat says, taking a second coffee mug and holding it up to Amanda who nods.

“Any time,” Amanda assures her.

Once they’re both sat in the living room with their coffee mugs in their hands, Kat looks over at Amanda, a smile on her face, “So, I saw something interesting this morning.”

Amanda bites her lip, preparing for what comes next, “What was that?”

“Counsellor Carisi… creeping out of your bedroom,” Kat looks very pleased with herself as she takes a long sip of her coffee, waiting for Amanda’s response.

Amanda doesn’t see any sense in denying it, “Yeah, you probably did.”

“Don’t worry,” Kat says reassuringly, “I’m not going to say anything to the captain.”

“It’s fine,” Amanda waves Kat off, “She already knows - we disclosed two weeks ago, we’re just not advertising it.”

Kat’s eyes go wide at that, “Wait, what? I never- well, you two have always been kind of,” she shrugs, “At least since I’ve known you.”

“Yeah,” Amanda smiles, “We kind of have.”

Amanda knocks once on Sonny’s office door before pushing it open, “Hey Counsellor,” she says, a smile just for him as she slips into the office.

“Hey Detective Rollins,” Sonny says, a smirk on his own lips.

She crosses the room and perches on the end of his desk, “Work call,” she tells him, but she isn’t in any hurry to rush him along.

He leans back in his chair, closing the case file he has open and looking up at her, “What do you need?”

“A warrant for Delugo’s phone records,” Amanda tells him - it is the primary reason for her visit, although she probably could have asked him over the phone, waited until he dropped the warrant off to see him. She likes finding excuses to come over here though, to see him in Counsellor Carisi mode in his own office, even with the mismatched paint and dented filing cabinets. That isn’t new with the change of their relationship - she’s been looking for reasons to swing by the DA’s office ever since he left SVU.

Sonny knows that, knows full well that if it were any other ADA she’d have just phoned, “Alright,” he nods, leaning forward, his face much closer to hers, “but it’ll cost you.”

“Oh, is that so?” Amanda asks, fingers tracing up the tie she’d watched him put on earlier that day, “What’s the fee?”

“Hmm, I think we can negotiate something-” he says, leaning in until his lips are hair’s breadth from her own. She closes the gap without hesitating, taking his bottom lip between hers as she draws him close.

They’re interrupted by the door opening, and a familiar voice groaning at them, “Oh no. Not today.”

Amanda pulls back from the kiss, turning to look at her sergeant over her shoulder. “Fin,” she grumbles, “Don’t you knock?”

“Door’s open,” Fin says, “Didn’t realise it was getting all R-rated in here.”

Sonny rolls his eyes, leaning back into his chair, “It was just a kiss, Fin.”

“I didn’t see anything,” Fin says, hands up, “I don’t know anything.”

“Everyone else already knows,” Amanda says, enjoying the way his expression changes. She is kind of touched that he would have been willing to deny all knowledge if she and Sonny were carrying on a secret relationship though.

Fin frowns at being the last to know. “Since when?”

“Your wedding,” Amanda smiles, “Not wedding.”

“Damn,” Fin shakes his head, “You’re welcome.” He steps fully into the room, holding out a manila folder for Sonny to take. “Liv asked me to drop that off on my way to the courthouse.”

“Thanks Fin,” Sonny says with a nod.

As Fin backs out of the office Amanda stands up, moving around Sonny’s desk, “I better get back. I forgot Fin was in court today.”

“I’ll let you know once I’ve got that warrant,” Sonny says; he’s not keen to see her go but they’re balancing this personal/professional life thing pretty well on the whole - and it’s easier saying goodbye when you know you’re going to be going home together.

“I’ll owe you that fee,” Amanda says, enjoying the way his expression changes as she glances back at him over her shoulder. She knows he’s watching her go; he’ll keep his eyes on her until she’s out of sight and then he’ll pick up his pen and get back to work - a smile still lingering on his face.

Summer’s drawing to a close - afternoons like this one will fade away, replaced with the dim light and cool breeze of the Fall. It’s been the best summer Amanda has had in a long time - for a lot of reasons, but chief amongst them has been letting herself have something she’s longed for since she was a child - the genuine love of a man who she loves right back, her children’s laughter filling their daily lives, friends who have become family around them and there for them.

Before summer ends and Jesse, Noah and Abby go back to school, Garland and his wife have invited them all over for a backyard barbecue, and it’s the first time they’ve all been together outside of work since the not-wedding - the first time she gets to walk into a space filled with their friends, her fingers slotted neatly between Sonny’s.

Jesse and Billie raced ahead of them through the house and into the backyard, chasing the sound of Noah’s excited yells; Amanda and Sonny follow Lamai out to join them; the sun is warm, the scent of good food wafts across the yard, music’s playing softly in the background. The children are huddled together at the bottom of the yard, and from the looks of Billie’s face they’ve already managed to sneak some cake from somewhere.

Sonny releases her hand, a kiss to her cheek before moving to where Fin and Stabler are standing near the grill. Amanda takes an empty seat next to Liv, turning to greet her friends - they’ve all got stupid smiles on their faces and she laughs, shaking her head, “What?”

“Nothing,” Liv says, “It’s nice. Seeing you two like this.”

Amanda bites back a comment about Stabler’s presence - she knows Liv is genuine and she wants to embrace it - so she just nods, leaning back in her chair as the conversation returns to its earlier topics, her gaze moving between Sonny and the children - and then to Sonny and the children when he abandons his spot by the grill to check up on them; within seconds he’s on the floor, a pile of kids on top of him as he dramatically begs for mercy and Amanda has never been more in love with this ridiculous, wonderful man.

He catches her eye across the yard and gives her a wink; yeah, she’s definitely in love.

[eideticmemory]

GODPARENTS | SPENCER REID

Description: You’re a wonderful godmother, always have been. Nothing could distract you from that. Queue the entrance of the ultimate distraction: Godfather Spencer Reid.

Word Count: 2,757.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse.

Jennifer Jareau is the closest thing you’ve got to a big sister. Your parents had placed you in grief counseling shortly after a loss in the family. You were only nine, but it impacted greatly - you felt alone, misunderstood, lost, hurt, confused. Little did you know, a twelve-year-old JJ would be in the other room, distraught by the loss of her older sister. And once the two of you met, chatting, laughing, confessing your darkest secrets, you didn’t feel so alone anymore. Jennifer Jareau helped you heal, and you could only hope she’d say the same about you.

19 years later, with a friendship thick and strong as stone, she gave birth to your godson - Henry. She had asked you be his godmother long before her due date, insisting that there was no woman she trusted as much. You cried. You hugged her. You talked to her stomach. It was a good day.

The day Henry was born was even better. You met him just hours after his birth, and fell in love instantly. You kissed JJ on top of her head, told her she did such a good job, leaned in to hug Will and held your godson. He was the spitting image of his mother, and you cared for both of them immensely. However, with you living nearly an hour away at the time, your reunion with them was cut short.

By the time Henry turned one, you had a cozy Virginia apartment and went to see JJ as offen as possible. Even visiting Will and Henry when JJ was off on a case.

It wasn’t until Henry’s first birthday party that you met Spencer Reid. And everything began to fall apart.

JJ went all out. Balloons, bouncy houses, tons of food, tons of people, all gathered to celebrate little Henry. You, being the ditiful godmother, showed up with a bunch of presents in tow, ready to help JJ in any way you could.

Before having Henry blow out the candles on his birthday cake, Will and her took a family photo. “Okay!” She exclaimed. “[y/n], Spencer, come here! I want Henry to get a quick picture with both his godparents.”

You happily complied, skipping over to Henry with a great big smile on your face. Spencer was the first to introduce himself, “Hi,” he said, posing at Henry’s side with his vision focused on you. “I’m Spencer.”

“[y/n],” you smiled. “It’s nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard good things.”

“Same here,” he nodded.

You both crouched down to Henry’s level, smiling wide for the picture as JJ counted down, “Three, two, one!” She shouted, followed by the shutter of the camera. “Perfect! I’m getting that framed!”

You giggled at your friend’s excitement, looked at little Henry and gave him quick pecks all over his face. When you looked up at Spencer, he was watching you - a look of adoration on his face, a smile gracing his lips. You smiled back. And that’s how it started.

Later that night - when the lights had gone down, most of the guests had left, and the baby was asleep, - you were up in the guest room. Unpacking your bag, you listened to the distinct coversation between JJ and her coworkers - their laughs, the inside jokes, the bond.

Since it was adult time, you figured, one drink wouldn’t hurt. You pulled a small flask from your bag, checking the door before you stepped onto the balcony. You took in the view, and gulped down a considerable amount of alcohol, your nerves loosening by the second.

“Ah,” a voice called. “Holding out on us?”

You turned your body quickly, coming face to face with Spencer, who had his hands in his pockets and his shoulder leaned against the balcony threshold. You giggled, “Well, I didn’t really think this was a perfect first-birthday-party activity, y’know?”

“Oh, no, I know,” he nodded, closing the sliding door behind him as he stepped outside. Even under the moonlight, he was utterly beautiful. “Got enough to share?”

You raised your eyebrows at him, “Why, Spencer, I would’ve never taken you for the drinking type.”

“Only on special occasions,” he shrugged, taking the flask you handed him. He swallowed it down, with minimal reaction, and you felt your heartbeat between your legs. The breeze flew under your dress, making you shiver. “You cold?”

“Yeah, damn. It was just 80 degrees out. Now it’s freezing.”

“Here,” he said. “Take my sweater.”

You watched as he stripped the article of clothing from his shoulders, holding eye contact with you until your eyes trailed to his body. Stop that, you told yourself, stop looking at him like that, [y/n]. But you couldn’t. He was irresistible, and he knew it. When he’d completely removed the sweater, he was only left in a white button up, tucked into his belt buckle.

He didn’t even try to hand you the sweater. He dropped it to the ground, along with the flask, as you moved in to kiss him. His arms wrapped around your waist, and your hands held onto his face as you shoved your tongue into his mouth, moaning at the taste of him.

You excitedly began to fidget with his belt buckle, undoing his pants with phenomenal speed. He pushed you back against the wall, and you followed, so ready to go all the way with this man, the wait was unbearable. He kissed your neck as you freed his cock from his briefs, stroking him into a set erection.

Neither of you spoke a word.

He just picked you up, held you against the wall by your thighs, and kissed you as you pulled your dress up. You pulled your panties to the side and allowed him to put himself inside you. He buried his face in your shoulder, with you going cross-eyed from the intense feeling. You just barely remembered to stay quiet, whining into your mouth as he thrusted into you, hard.

You held onto his shirt for dear life, wrapping your legs around his waist and moving your hips against his. “Fuck,” you whispered. He grinned against your skin, using all his strength to pound you into the wall. Slowly, though, as to not alert his friends downstairs.

You reached down and rubbed your clit, your mouth instantly forming an ‘o’ shape and your head rolling back. Combine that with Spencer’s cock striking all the right places, and you were a puddle. Your legs trembled, but he held onto them, his hands big enough to nearly wrap around your entire thigh. The rush started in the pit of your stomach, then it spread through your clit, and then your entire body. And you came, weakly, almost violently against Spencer’s body.

He stopped after that, pulling out of you and placing your feet back on the concrete gently. Despite being in a daze, you grabbed onto his cock and jerked him off quickly, staring at him as you did it.

“[y/n]—“ he moaned. “I’m—I’m—“

He did. He exploded all over you. Your thigh, your dress. All while falling apart into a fit of groans, having to hold himself up on the wall just to keep from crumbling to the ground. You smirked at the sight of him, glad to have gotten him off.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, looking into your eyes. “I’m sorry about your dress.”

You shook your head, “I needed to shower anyway,” you shrugged. “Go on, everyone’s probably wondering where you went.” You smiled.

He kissed you. Once before he fixed his pants. And twice before he actually left the room. He left his sweater. You wore it to bed that night, sipping happily on the forgotten flask.

In the morning, JJ made breakfast. Enough pancakes and eggs to feed you, the baby, and her. You kissed her cheek before taking a seat at the table, tickling Henry and earning a cute, little giggle from him.

“Where’s Will?” You asked.

“Where else? Work. He couldn’t get out of his shift today, but believe me, he tried.”

“Aw, poor, poor William. I hope he atleast had fun yesterday.”

“He did. We were both tired afterwards, but we had a good time. Thank you for being here.”

“Oh, c’mon, JJ, you know I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world. Godmommy duties!”

“And I’m so glad you got to meet Spencer,” she said. You gulped. “I told you if anything ever happens to me and Will—“

“Then, it’s up to Spencer and I to make sure Henry gets into Yale. I remember.” You giggled.

“Exactly. Did you get to talk to him last night?”

You thought for a moment. You could tell her. But the baby was right there. And you clearly remembered her mentioning a date between her and Spencer years ago. Was it a can of worms you should open? You decided it wasn’t.

“Oh, no,” you shook your head. “Not as much as I wanted. I kind of went to bed early.”

“Ah, well, one day, I want you to meet the whole team. I think it’s about time. Don’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

Over a month later, there was no word from Spencer. You thought about him often though. Where was he, what was he doing, was he thinking of you. Sappy shit. Then, you remembered, you knew exactly where he was. And you chose to visit the bullpen for the very first time.

You put on your tightest pair of jeans - the ones that made your butt look perky - and a spaghetti strap blouse that highlighted your chest. JJ told you that you looked beautiful and embraced you in a warm hug.

“This is such a surprise!” She exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you! See where you worked, who you worked with, all that jazz.”

“Oh,” she giggled, rising from her seat. “Then let me give you the grand tour.”

You followed her aimlessly, only partially listening to his guidance, as you were primarily concerned with seeing Spencer. “That’s Derek, Emily, Penelope is in her office, and you remember Spencer.” She said.

Your eyes instantly found Spencer at his desk, the profiler already eyeing you with a knowing smile. You smiled back, “Of course. Hi, everyone.”

“Back there is our break room. Coffee, doughnuts. Want some?” JJ asked.

“Oh, yeah, coffee sounds great.” You nodded.

“I’ll get you some,” Spencer suddenly offered, rising from his seat and heading off before you could object.

“A nice little place you run here, J,” you whispered.

She rolled her eyes, “I don’t run it.”

“Well, you should.”

Spencer strolled up to you, a small styrofoam cup in his hand, and a great smile on his face. “Here you go. I put in cream and sugar. Hope that’s okay.”

“That’s perfect,” you told him. “Thank you.”

“Spence, you remember [y/n] from Henry’s birthday party? She’s his godmother.”

“Ah, so the one that’s going to help Henry get into Yale?” He chuckled.

You shook your head, “Me? No, no. I could barely get into community college. That’s all on you.”

The three of you laughed, and JJ shook her head at you. “Are you free for a quick lunch?” She asked.

“Of course! You ready?”

Your friend nodded and swung her arm over your shoulder as the two of you walked away. Spencer watched you as you stepped onto the elevator, taking a sip of your coffee. Only then, did you notice the slip of paper tucked into the lid. It contained a string of numbers, signed - Spencer :). You looked up at him, just as the elevator doors were closing.

The night, you called him. He came over. You had sex in a bed for the first time. And it was just as good as you remembered it. If not better. His hands pressed into your thighs, your legs bent over your head as he drilled into you, the sweat from his body dripping onto yours. Your tongues tangled with one another’s, your hands gripped at anything they could. It was hot. It was satisfying. You came twice, and Spencer came with his cock in your mouth.

As the two of you laid there afterwards, cuddled up and out of breath, Spencer kissed your forehead. “Missed you.” He said.

You hid your face as you grinned. “Uh, do you want your sweater back?”

“No. You keep it. Think of me when you see it.”

Little did he know that you thought about him all the time.

2 months later, his number was on speed dial in your phone. The job kept him busy most days, but weekends belonged to you. You’d be at his apartment friday to sunday, miss him for a week, and then fall into the same routine. It was bliss.

You’d be laying beside each other, completely fucked out and attempting to calm your breathing. “Do you—“ Spencer huffed. “Do you want kids some day?”

You furrowed your eyebrows together, sat up slowly and looked down at him. “Where the hell did that come from, Spencer?”

He shrugged, “I see how you are with Henry. Why don’t you have any of your own?”

You laughed, “Is that your way of saying you want to impregnate me?”

“Oh, don’t think that I haven’t thought about it,” he whispered, reaching over to hug you. “Go on a date with me, [y/n].”

You watched him say the words out loud, processing what it meant, waiting for your response. “A date?” You replied.

“A real date. Let me pick you at your place, and take you dancing, a movie, dinner, something. No sex involved.”

“No sex involved?”

“I mean,” he smirked. “Unless you want?”

“Hm, no, Spencer Reid, I’m not that kind of girl. You’re gonna have to wait until the fifth date for that.”

You made it to the fourth date before having sex again. But to be fair, those four dates were spectacular. Movies, dancing, dinner, some coffee dates sprinkled in. You were happy. And JJ could tell.

“Tell me who he is, [y/n].” JJ ordered, chuckling as she fixed you a cup of tea.

“Who? I told you, there’s no one. There’s no guy.”

“I call bullshit,” she shook her head. “You have been walking around way too happy and way too cocky to not be having sex with someone.”

“J—“

“And not to mention how many times you’ve blown me off to see him.”

“I did not blow you off.”

“Sorry, J,” she mocked your voice. “‘I’ve got an early day tomorrow.’ You? An early day on a Saturday?”

“I wanted to run some errands!”

She turned to you, “Errands? Now I know you’re seeing someone!”

“You’re crazy, J.”

You hated to lie to JJ. But it wasn’t the right time. Besides, at that point, 6 complete months had passed since Henry’s birthday party and you worried the lapse in time would upset her. There would be a time and place to announce the relationship.

4 months later - when you told JJ you were moving - she asked where to, and you still didn’t say ‘oh, Spencer’s place.’ Instead, you just told her it was close to her work.

Another 2 months passed and Henry was turning two. JJ insisted you come over to help her set up decorations the night before. You stepped on a ladder, hanging up Henry’s name in big, floppy letters.

“Hey, [y/n], did you pick up some wall tacks on your way over? I want to start putting up the other decorations.” JJ said.

“Yeah, they’re in my car. My keys are on the couch.”

JJ nodded, grabbed your keys and stepped out of the house to retrieve the items. You finally put up the letter ‘Y’ and stepped down to admire your handy work. You began to clean up the trash off the floor, packing into a large grocery bag and laying it to the side. You heard the door close, signaling JJ’s return.

“Hey, J,” you said, rummaging through the bag of decor. “Did you find the wall tacks? My car’s a little junky. And if you think that’s bad, you should see my room.” You laughed.

When you didn’t get a response after a few seconds, you turned around to look at JJ. She was standing here, holding a small item in her hand. Her face had lost its color and her breathing was still. She couldn’t - wouldn’t - look you in the eye.

“Why...” she started. “Is Spencer’s badge in your car?”