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#was supposed to get the dress for the main wedding day this past weekend but a series of unfortunate events led us to go back home
molkolsdal · 5 months
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Lashkaraa
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ollieofthebeholder · 2 years
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Because I feel like inflicting this on as many people as possible: This was my weekend.
I went to a wedding this weekend, and as a summary of what I'm about to tell you, at one point I turned to my mother and said, "I love you, and because I want to continue loving you, if I ever decide to get married, I am eloping."
This was a Nightmare Before Christmas-themed wedding at a beach house in Corolla put together almost entirely by the bride's mother. Wedding was set for 1:30pm on Sunday, with the bridal party arriving at the beach house on Saturday to set up and rehearse. Starting Saturday morning:
Mom and I were several hours later getting on the road than we initially wanted because Mom had to finish sewing her bridesmaid's dress
We arrived to find we couldn't get up the driveway because someone (who later turned out to be the father of the groom) couldn't be arsed to pull his car all the way into the circular driveway and nobody could get past him
 Beach house is three stories high and the front door is on the second floor
 The main living spaces (kitchen, living room, balcony, etc.) are on the third floor
Wedding was also being held on the balcony on the third floor
We arrived in the middle of the maid of honor and the Strapping Young Men staying at the house hauling the chairs rented for the wedding from the porch to the third floor
 Rehearsal dinner was supposed to be at 6:30pm
 We did not get started on time
House rapidly filled up with a bazillion people
I knew five of them (not counting my mother) and liked three of them so you can imagine what my anxiety was doing
 Pretty much everyone except the groom, the small children, and me had alcohol
 WE ATE FIRST
"Rehearsal" turned out to just be all of us standing there while the pastor read off the order of service
Everyone not staying at the house left and the rest of us got pressed into service to start setting up for the wedding
It's about 9pm at this point
Mother of the bride is snapping about how she's doing all this herself and everyone that's let her down so far
Father of the groom comes up with a bottle of beer in his hand and starts loudly announcing about a political topic that reveals to me I am probably the only liberal in this house
At this point I manage to escape and go to bed
Sunday is supposed to start at 7am
I go upstairs to find the mother of the bride shunting things around in the kitchen and the setup mostly complete
Someone says there are going to be 65 people at this wedding
 Me, internally, "Bunny, how the fuck do you think you're going to fit 65 people in this living room?!"
I politely ask what I can do to help
MotB informs me she needs my mother to move her car so she can go get the chicken from the Publix
She says this very quietly
I realize that MotB is one of those people who gets quieter and quieter the angrier she is and I am McFreaking Terrified™️
I go downstairs and wake up my mother
Mom comes back in from moving the car and goes back to sleep
I go back upstairs in the hopes that someone sane will be there to give orders and start helping the Maid of Honor with the charcuterie board
Bride has requested MoH recreate that picture floating around the internet of a charcuterie board shaped like a skeleton so I am recruited to wrap a plastic skull in proscuitto
It is 8:30am and this is the calmest it is going to be all day
Once the charcuterie board is together I go out onto the balcony to help the groom set up the wedding arch, which is three pieces of PVC pipe hammered together
We are going to attach the lattice studded with pumpkins to this arch when MotB shoves a box out the door and informs us the arch is supposed to be draped with fabric
Groom and father of the groom and I have to take the entire arch apart and put it back together with the fabric
It's probably worth mentioning at this point that a) we are doing all of this with the bride and groom's two-year-old developmentally-delayed not-yet-fully-walking son crawling around underfoot and b) the groom only has one leg.
I go downstairs to wake my mother up and change into the outfit I am planning to wear
I come back upstairs to set up my little corner of the balcony where I will be playing my flute
I go back inside to find out where the bride's phone is so that I can play the music she wants recordings of played
MotB is slamming things around in the kitchen
MotB had informed my mother and me (i.e. ranted at us) the night before of All The Trouble She Had getting the bride's dress, groom's suit, and their son's suit back from the cleaners and how she had to literally chase them down all over the region before managing to get them just that morning
This is important to what comes next.
Me: *opens my mouth to ask where the bride's phone is and if she has the music queued up* MotB: *in a near-whisper* "[Groom]'s suit didn't come back from the cleaners. And he has no clean clothes."
Look
I had already chatted with the groom and confirmed that we weighed the same
but he's about a foot taller than I am even if I have a foot on him (<-- this is a terrible, tasteless pun and I'm not sorry for it)
so it's not like I can loan him a shirt or anything
Groom and father of the groom end up going on an emergency shopping run to buy him Something To Get Married In
Groom apparently has a meltdown for which he will later apologize profusely and repeatedly (general attitude: "I THINK that's a bit justified!")
Guests and those members of the wedding party smart enough to stay elsewhere begin arriving
Now we get to the family shenanigans so buckle up 'cause this gets good
(Comment from friend when I told this story the first time: “Gets good? Good Lord.”)
MotB and Father of the Bride are divorced and FotB was not around much while Bride was growing up
Everybody, including FotB, expected Bride would want her godfather (MotB's brother) to walk her down the aisle
Bride's attitude was "HELL no it's MY wedding and I love my uncle [Godfather] but I want my dad to walk me down the aisle"
MotB is not happy about this but it is one of three things Bride has insisted on and she's been pushing her to make decisions so she concedes but has been grumpy about it for weeks
Groom's parents are also divorced but FotG has remarried
Groom does not refer to FotG's new wife as "stepmother", just "mother", so both Birth Mom and Stepmom are being referred to as "Mother of the Groom"
BM is pissed about this and makes several loud remarks about "Excuse me, I'm the Mother of the Groom, the real Mother of the Groom" every chance she gets
(It's probably worth mentioning here that referring to both as "Mother of the Groom" is a concession to BM and not SM)
BM also makes quite a number of snide remarks about SM and FotG periodically throughout the afternoon/evening - SM tries to avoid her but BM seeks her out specifically to be a bitch
(At one point BM makes an unkind remark about FotG's shirt and demands to know "where he got that ugly thing" and SM has the pleasure of looking at her and saying "You bought that for him, twenty years ago!")
MotG mentions later that her brother (not Bride's godfather, her other brother - apparently) has been married three times and all his ex-wives are at this wedding, but apparently the three of them just got drunk and laughed and had a good time together
Other than Groom's parents and stepmother, literally every other person at this wedding seems to be for Bride
Wedding FINALLY starts about twenty minutes late
Groom is wearing brown shirt, darker brown pants, and a string tie and looks like he's a hat and tin star away from having a Halloween costume as a Wild West Sheriff sorted out
Bride has requested a recording of an Ed Sheeran song (”Visiting Hours”, for those wondering) as a "prelude" that comes AFTER the preacher's opening remarks because someone doesn't understand the meaning of the word "prelude"
I am supposed to play the Imperial March from Star Wars on my flute as Groom escorts the Mothers to their seats - Groom starts escorting them in during the Ed Sheeran song
I am not upset about this because this is the song for this wedding I am least confident of being able to play
I am supposed to play "You'll Be In My Heart" on my flute as bridesmaid/MoH/flower girl/"ring bearer" (Bride & Groom's son, whose walker is decorated with leaves and a Jack Skellington doll and who is not actually carrying the rings - FotB has them) come in
Someone tells my mom "the music's started! Go in!" before I can pause the recording
I am still feeling bad about this because those two songs are LITERALLY the only two things Groom specifically requested for this wedding
I am at least able to play “A Thousand Years” as performed by the Piano Guys on the phone when Bride comes out so there’s that going for us
Bride & Groom are supposed to recite the words from the finale/reprise at the end of Nightmare Before Christmas after the opening remarks while I play
Both of them have forgotten the words
Time comes for vows to be recited
Pastor tells everyone Bride & Groom have written their own vows
Groom delivers his in a choked-up, very sincere, heartfelt voice
Bride announces that she's "winging it" and has no idea what to say
Thankfully manages (with some prompting) to say SOMETHING
Remainder of wedding goes off without complications (thankfully)
Bride wants "The Monster Mash" played while she and Groom come into reception
Which is being held in living room directly off balcony where wedding was held
Groom has not left living room because he is trying to corral son
At least a third of the guests leave as soon as the wedding is over
Musicians hired for reception come through with keyboard to get set up in the middle of everything
Both of them give me the fakest, most poisonous smiles imaginable as they pass me because they had wanted to be hired to play for the wedding too and MotB told them they'd already asked me
(For those wondering: No, I did not get paid for this, it was my gift to the couple)
Bride eventually gives up on the idea of a formal entrance and just yells for everyone to go eat
Small child (one of Bride's cousins) has been planning to sing "My Heart Will Go On" during the reception at some point
Small child comes up to me before wedding to ask me to give him the words
Wedding musicians are contracted for three sets of ten songs
Wedding musicians play extremely abbreviated versions of these songs (as in one verse + chorus of any given song) and go straight into the next set, so what you would think would be three 40-minute sessions with breaks in between essentially turns out to be about 30 minutes of continuous music
Wedding musicians also let Small Child sing half the songs
MotB comes out to tell them it's time for the toast
Musicians pack their stuff and leave
Toast is happening now (30-45 minutes into reception) because BM has to leave
Toast does not actually happen
Bride and Groom are photographed feeding each other traditional First Piece of (Cup)Cake
BM leaves and everyone immediately sighs in relief
Small Child drags microphone and stereo inside and shouts for everyone's attention so he can sing
Small Child does actually have a very good voice and everyone applauds
Small Child proceeds to spend the rest of the reception demanding everyone's attention while he sings (mostly Justin Bieber songs)
I spend most of the rest of the afternoon hiding on the balcony with the flower girl
Or trying to
Eventually everyone comes back out for further pictures
I spend half the time hiding in a corner trying to stay out of the pictures and the rest trying to distract Bride and Groom's toddler so he doesn't crawl into the pictures
The last of the people not staying at the beach house finally leave at around 5pm
Half the people staying at the beach house immediately go to their rooms to take naps
The other half go to find places to watch the moonrise
(I have pictures of the moon over the ocean btw and the view almost made it worth it)
I go back to the house and am immediately recruited to help break down tables and chairs because MotB has to return them by midnight
Bride and Groom (along with three of their friends) are in the hot tub
Toddler is crawling around underfoot
SM trips over Toddler and almost slams into a column trying not to fall, then sits on the floor to gather him in a hug because he starts crying (both of them were more surprised than hurt)
I pick Toddler up to keep him out of the way
Toddler (who is not yet fully verbal) indicates he wants to go outside
I take Toddler onto balcony
Toddler indicates he wants to go back inside
Toddler gets increasingly distressed while I try to figure out what he wants
Bride and Groom come upstairs at this point
I inform them that I think what Toddler wants is to go to bed
Bride takes Toddler to put him down
Toddler is apparently asleep before his head hits the pillow
Score one for the preschool teacher
I manage to make my own escape about twenty minutes later and collapse into bed
Thankfully, Monday morning was substantially less chaotic, mostly because MotB actually got a few hours of sleep (I...forgot to mention somewhere in there that MotB never went to bed at all between 6am on Saturday and at least 11pm on Sunday), but also because MotB and Bride left (temporarily) fairly early because Bride had an outpatient procedure scheduled for that morning, and Mom and I managed to get everything packed and get out the door before they got back...
And then I had to drive home because Mom was tired and had an upset stomach. (I didn't mind the driving part so much, honestly.)
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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years
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Crashed The Wedding ~ JJK [Request]
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WORD COUNT: 2.7k
GENRE: Non idol au, wedding, angst with fluffy ending, high school sweethearts, establushed relationship
PAIRING: jungkook x fem!reader
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this! I did a different kind of take on it so I hope it’s okay?
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All week leading up to your wedding day you'd had a feeling in your chest that you weren't able to shake. It was the feeling that something was going to happen, something bad but you just weren't sure what. Normally you could trust your gut feelings but with it being your wedding you were putting the feeling down to nervousness. After being with Jungkook for almost Thirteen years you were finally tying the knot with friends, family and everyone else watching. It had taken you seven years of saving up every penny you earnt to be able to do this. Both of you wanted the wedding to be special and the time was finally right! High school sweethearts marrying one another after so long brought a lot of attention to your small town. Old teachers from the high school you attended together had even seen you around and decided to congratulate you and ask to go to the afterparty which you agreed with.
"Something's still playing on your mind isn't it?" Your best friend asked as she buttoned up the buttons on the back of your dress. It was a white lace mermaid gown with a sweetheart neckline and a small train at the bottom. Elegant and stylish and not too out there for the small wedding that was happening in the local church.
"There's just something wrong, I can feel it, Mina." You whispered as she finally did up the last button and turned you around to face her.
"The rain isn't here, remember...That was the only thing that was making you uneasy." She tried to reassure you but it did nothing but make the gut feeling grow in size. It was the perfect day for the perfect wedding, the sun was beaming down over the church despite the forecast being rain all weekend. When you first heard that it was supposed to be raining all weekend for your wedding you and Jungkook had expected showers but the only rain that morning had been a small spritz as you drove towards the church.
"Would it make you feel better if you got to talk to him?" Mina quizzed when she noticed you beginning to play with the beads on the dress.
"Please," You whispered as she smiled at you, kissing the top of your head as she turned to leave the room. Not before yelling at you to hide behind the changing screen so that Jungkook wouldn't be able to see you when he walked into the room.
 Both of you had decided that you wanted to not see one another until you were walking towards him down the aisle to make it all the more special when he did finally see you. The night before Jungkook had stayed the night at Jimin's house, his best man while you stayed with Mina. Your maid of honour. The two of them doing their best not to let you text one another or spoil anything that would be happening today, five times Mina had to stop you from showing Jungkook pictures of your dress in the past but you couldn't help it. You and Jungkook shared everything with one another, no matter what it was. The dress had to be a surprise so nobody wanted you to show him and then when you reunited it would be more special.
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The door to your changing room opened and you smiled as you heard Jungkook's voice fill the room as he called out to you that he was there. He stood just behind the changing screen and held out his hand for you to take it,
"I told you everything would be okay, didn't I?" He whispered to you as you sighed in relief poking your hand out from behind the changing screen to hold onto his.
"Maybe I just needed to hear your voice," You smiled even though he couldn't see you, whenever he was around you was when you felt like you could relax the most. You always felt so at peace when he was near you.
"Baby, this is going to be fine. You're just nervous but I am too." He placed a small kiss on your hand before the door to your changing room opened once again. Mina clapped her hands together loudly as she ordered Jungkook out of the room.
"That's enough, you'll see her in ten minutes. Out!" Jungkook laughed at Mina as he walked away from you and headed out to see Jimin standing there and waiting for him.
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"Everything's ready? The music? The people?" You questioned as your father stood beside you smiling at you as he nodded along to everything you were asking him. He'd heard about how nervous you were about everything so he was doing his best to reassure you that everything was going as it should have been.
"Do me a favour?" You questioned as you brushed down your dress and looked up at him to make sure he was listening to you,
"Make sure I don't trip like I already took off the heels so just make sure I don't fall over my own feet." He laughed at you as you lifted up the bottom of your dress to show that you were actually barefooted.
"You're no going to fall, but I will make sure you don't trip if it makes you feel better." He promised as he held onto your hand a little tighter when the music began to play. It was time to start walking so you took the small bouquet from Mina who went out of the double doors first and then you were next.
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The moment Jungkook turned around to look at you he began to tear up, tears streaming down his face as he realised you were about to take the first step to the rest of your lives together.
"Hi baby," You whispered as you reached the top of the altar, smiling at him as he kept crying heavily.
"You look beautiful," He managed to stutter out causing those on the front row that could hear you laugh as he wiped his eyes on his hand. A giant smiled spread across your face as you looked into his eyes, the gut feeling leaving your body as you looked at him. Once everyone had quietened down in the church the vicar began to talk to everyone while you and Jungkook joined hands.
"We are gathered here today to bear witness to unite these two people in marriage. Their decision to marry has not been entered into lightly and today they publicly declare their private devotion to each other. The essence of this commitment is the acceptance of each other in entirety, as lovers, companions and friends."
The ceremony continued until it came to the vicar turning to look at everyone in the crowded church, your mum was sitting in the front row crying as you dad held onto her. Mina was watching you closely as she cried silently, trying not to let her makeup run.
"If any person knows any cause as to why the couple should not be wed, they should “speak now, or forever hold their peace.” The room was silent and he smiled turning back to you and Jungkook ready to finish the marriage ceremony when a door slammed open. Everyone turned around in their seats to see who was standing there,
"I OBJECT!" Turning around you looked over at the main entrance to see one of your ex best friends from high school walking towards you. Stomping her feet as if she weighed the same as an elephant and she cried out that she objected over and over again. Areum had always had a flair for the dramatics whenever she was around,
"Areum this is a church not a fucking court," Mina snapped as she stood in front of you and Jungkook as if she was a shield between you and Areum who just gave her a filthy look. None of you had spoken to her since leaving high school all those years ago, she was nothing but a two-faced person who could do nothing but make everybody around her miserable.
"I have reasons why they shouldn't get married, he cheated on her with me. Last night." The whole church seemed to let out one loud gasp as you stared at Areum in front of you, your heart felt as though it was being crushed in your chest as everyone started at you this time. Waiting to see what would happen as if this was happening on tv and not just right in front of them. Your eyes were trained on Areum, her neck covered in purple hickies as she stared at you and then to Jungkook who seemed just as shocked as you did about this whole thing. Your father was on his feet now coming over to talk to Jungkook with an angry look on his face,
"It's not true, I never slept with her. Ever." He said as he looked directly into your eyes but your head was filling with images of them together, your heart racing as you thought about how he was only with Jimin the night before.  You knew deep down that Jungkook would never do anything like that to you but your brain wasn't letting you think of anything except the two of them together. Jimin would easily lie for him if he really wanted to it wasn't as though you were close friends.
"You're just saying that because you know they spent the night apart, he was at home with Jimin the whole night. Right, Jimin?" Mina questioned turning to look at Jimin who was now staring at the floor and avoiding all means of eye contact. There was one thing that Jimin couldn't do and that was lying to Mina. They'd been best friends since you could remember and he couldn't lie to her, she knew every tell-tale sign of him lying.
"Jimin!" She snapped as you began to feel your hands getting sweaty, everyone staring at you and Jungkook as they waited for something to happen. No one had moved from their seats to try and make this less awkward,
"Well we went out for a couple of drinks last night and I lost him in one of the clubs but-" Jimin tried to defend himself but Areum cut him short as she yelled out loud enough for the whole church to hear her.
"And that was when he met me. Took me into the back of the stalls and fucked me," The gasps started again as it brought you back down into the church, the bouquet dropped out of your hands and you began sprinting down the aisle towards the changing rooms. Everyone staring at you as you did so watching the way you lifted up your dress to run.
"Babe! It's not true-" Jungkook was silence by the door to your room slamming as he stood at the altar. Your father was standing behind him now ready to either kill him for hurting you or kill Areum for ruining what was supposed to be his daughter's perfect day.
"You're a liar, Mina! Please I would never do anything to hurt her." Mina ignored him as she continued storming off after you, your father standing up beside Jungkook as he waited for some kind of explanation to come from him.
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The door was being knocked on repeatedly but you weren't interested in hearing anything, you'd made Mina go and fetch the car around while you tried to get changed out of your dress but you couldn't do it alone. Instead, you sat down on the floor crying into your hands at the thought of Jungkook ever doing something like that. Your head and your heart conflicted with one another. The whole time you'd felt as though something was wrong and now this had happened. Maybe in your gut, you knew that Jungkook had done something bu even then it didn't feel right. After knowing Jungkook for so long you knew he wouldn't do anything to hurt anyone, he wouldn't even kill a spider.
"Babe please," Jungkook pleaded as he continued to hit his fists on the door, your father out there with him. You could hear them both talk to one another about how to let one of them in but you weren't going to.
"Listen to me, nothing happened. I went to the club, that's true but I promise you nothing happened between me and-" He stopped talking when the door swung open, you were standing there with makeup running down your cheeks. Sobbing as you stared into his eyes, searching for any signs that he was lying but he wasn't.
"Then why is she saying all of this why would she-" Jungkook cut you off before you could ramble,
"Because she hates us, remember why she wasn't invited in the first place? Why you haven't spoken to her in over ten years?" His hands were cupping your face as he stared into your eyes trying to calm you down and make you see the sense in all of this.
"S-She tried to tell me you cheated on me with her before." Memories of your time in high school came flooding back as you remembered her coming up to you in the middle of a lesson to tell you falsely that she and Jungkook had been sleeping together behind your back.
"We both know that I would never, ever cheat on you." You whimpered as you thought back on the church full of people that were all waiting for you to go back out there.
"Is she gone?" You mumbled looking over at your father who was smiling weakly at you, the second Jungkook had pleaded with him at the altar trying to convince him that nothing had happened he knew he was telling the truth.
"She is. I had your uncles escort her out after she claimed she still had Jungkook's DNA on her and she would prove it." You groaned at the thought and Jungkook looked at you,
"We can go back out there and get married or we can wait another month or two whatever you want, baby." The thought of putting off your wedding one more month was awful to you, you'd saved up for so long and nothing was going to ruin your big day with Jungkook.
"I want to get married," You reassured him as you walked back into the room and wiped the eyeliner and mascara that had been running down your cheeks.
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"Ladies and gentleman! The bride and groom!" Your father announced, the double doors opening again so that you and Jungkook could walk back to the vicar again. The whole thing was explained away as a crazy ex-best-friend trying to ruin your perfect day.
"If any person knows any cause as to why the couple should not be wed, they should “speak now, or forever hold their peace.” Mina stepped out of place to look around the hall of people,
"If you have nothing nice to say then leave! There is no REAL reason why they shouldn't be married," You moaned at her to get back into her place and she smirked at you while the vicar continued on with the vows.
"Then you may kiss the bride," Jungkook smirked as he grabbed onto you tightly and dipped you down,
 "I've been waiting all night for this." You giggled wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed you passionately in front of everyone. People cheering and clapping as they got up from your seats.
When you pulled away you smiled looking into Jungkook's eyes,
"Shall we go to the party, Mrs Jeon?" He questioned as he looked at you, raising his eyebrow as he got ready to pick you up in his arms.
"I think we shall Mr Jeon," You bit down on your lip as he picked you up and began carrying you out of the church in the direction of the waiting wedding car for you. The only thing you could see behind you was Mina holding onto Jimin's ear as she pulled him in the direction of their car, no doubt yelling at him for going out the night before your big day.
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Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @rjsmochii @sw33tnight @innersooya​ @sweeneyblue1​ @jin-from-the-block​
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dumblydork · 3 years
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Dying Embers
Her hair swished wildly in the wind, as if it were leaves swaying from the onset of a cyclone- flowing down to her waist, head thrown back. Fiery red, just like the dying embers of what was formerly a warming furnace. He could hear her laughter, slow and melodic, almost as if it were empyrean. She was the love of Harry's entire being. The soul to his body, the mind to his brain. She turned around, and all Harry could glimpse was her mouth- full, and pulled into a large smile. Her eyes were a bright hazel, shining with happiness, as she ran towards Harry, fitting easily in his arms.
They had met at the ball thrown by his parents that summer, exactly so that their son could meet a suitable young woman to marry. Harry had been extremely bored with the festivities, instead wishing he were out practicing archery with his friend, Neville.
His eyes flew around the room, passing from and then returning to a young woman who had just entered the gala. She didn't seem familiar, and was chaperoned by who seemed to her brother, judging from their hair. Harry was mesmerised- her yellow dress floated around her as if it were made of the finest, lightest silk to exist, and her hair was pulled back elegantly, exposing the milky column of her neck. He walked towards the pair.
"Forgive my intrusion, but will the lovely lady here consider dancing the next waltz with me?" Harry bowed slightly, his hand pulled tightly at his back.
The girl eyed him shyly as his brother did a more open appraisal. "We would like to first make your acquaintance, sir." He finally spoke.
"Of course, forgive me. I am Lord Harry Potter, Viscount of Little Whinging." He said, an automatic confidence seeping into his voice, one which only came from being the son of a duke.
"Forgive me, my Lord, I did not know. I am Ronald Weasley, and this is my younger sister, Ginevra Weasley. Our father is the Baron Weasley of Burrows." The pair bowed deeply, something which made Harry slightly uncomfortable.
"Please, I take no offense. It is my pleasure to make an acquaintance of Lord Weasley's children. He is my father's close friend. My question, however, to Lady Ginevra here remains unanswered." Harry steered the topic back to more important things from mere formalities.
"Of course, my lord." Ginevra said softly, placing her hand in Harry's outstretched one. As they walked towards the center of the floor, Harry's eyes met the identical ones of his mother, who stood to the side, flashing her son a soft smile.
"I adore you. And so does every thread of my existence, until my breath ceases." Harry spoke, bringing himself back from the night at the ball.
"I simply reciprocate, my Lord. And shall do so until death pull us part." She spoke softly, meeting Harry's lips with her own.
At the brink of twilight, a day before their wedding, the two of them wove their lives together, sealed by golden vows.
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"Harry? Get on up, it's time to go!" His mother, Lily's voice flitted through the room, and sunlight poured inside as well, casting a bright glow all over. Harry sat up in bed, stretching excessively, getting rid of the multitude of pulls and pains he seemed to acquire over the night.
His parents swore he did not sleepwalk and fall down the stairs.
"Harry, honey, come on. You'll be late for uni otherwise." His mother peeked inside, her reddish brown hair pulled into a knot at the top of her head, green eyes shining with motherly affection. Seeing his mother's hair, Harry was reminded of his dream- recurring dream, he should say. Even though it was simply a few minutes old, seeing the 'girl' in his dream, he felt as if it were quite some lifetimes ago.
He had been dreaming of a girl quite frequently lately, and not in the lewd way his best friend Ron seemed intent on. Harry would always simply spot her hair, the curve of her waist and as soon as she turned around, he would be jolted awake.
When he was a child, his mother used to tell him tales in which princesses would dream of faceless men, a golden bond tying the two people together. The faceless person you dreamt about was whom you shared your golden thread of life with. But those were just fantasy- woven to make a dull reality exciting. At least now, at the age of 19, was what Harry believed. He hopped out of bed, and walked off into the bathroom, getting started on his morning routine. It was half past eight when he went downstairs, his first class of the morning at 9:15. His father, James, was stood in front of the kettle, pouring himself a cup of his morning Earl Grey, and his mother was setting down the plate of pancakes on the table.
"Breakfast?" She asked, sitting down, his dad joining her to the left. "Morning Haz." His father grinned lopsidedly, a grin much like Harry's own, glasses steaming up from the hot mug. Harry recited a greeting in return and was about to refuse breakfast on the account of well, running late, when the smell of butter floated up to him and he found himself seated in front of his parents.
"Did you get sore again?" Lily asked, concern lacing her low voice.
"Yeah. I just don't seem to know how." Harry noted, voice muffled from a mouth full of pancakes.
"Slow down, you'll choke." She admonished lightly, shooting James an exasperated look when he snickered a low 'That's what she said' into his morning Daily Prophet.
"He probably needs a new mattress. Let's get one on the weekend." His mother said, earning an affirmative hum from James who was busy with his newspaper.
"I'll get going now. Bye mum, bye dad. See you in the evening." He spoke after having had his share of pancakes and a chat with his mum. He bent down for the customary top-of-the-head kiss from his mother, something she had been doing since Harry started school. And although he wouldn't admit it, he adored this little sentiment. His dad shot him another grin as he walked out of the door, putting in his earphones.
Fortunately for him, the university campus was quite a short bus ride away. However, he still found himself running across the campus from the bus stop to his lecture theatre- he forgot to factor in the fact that the hall today was all on the opposite end of campus.
"Shit," He glanced at his phone, currently glowing 9:21. It was Professor Binns' lecture, and he wasn't too fond of latecomers. Harry counted on his excellent grade in the module, hoping that would pull him through. As he ran across, his peripheral vision noted a mane of red momentarily, but before Harry could turn around and see, he was already in front of the class, digging through the bag for his ID card.
---
"How is it that Binns' lectures keep getting worse through the term?" Ron, the aforementioned best friend groaned.
"Because your attention dwindles further as term moves on." Hermione, the other best friend noted. Harry grinned between the two of them. They were so in love, those oblivious idiots.
Binns' was the only class the three of them took together, and Ron departed for his Victorian Literature module. Harry and Hermione walked to the open amphitheatre, choosing to spend their free half hour which coincided together.
"Oh right. My friend from school is joining today, I was supposed to go show her around. Fancy coming?" Hermione spoke, eyes focused on her text messages. "Sure, I have the rest of the morning free." Harry pursed his lips. Hermione simply nodded and they set off across the campus again after the brief interlude at the theatre.
"Your friend is from school?" Harry asked.
"Yeah- she's a year younger but we were quite close when I was in year 12." She replied, eyes scanning the crowd at in front of the Lifesciences Lab, which was one of the main buildings on campus. "Who are we looking for again?" He imitated the search.
"Redhead, shorter than you." Hermione did not look up from the hoard of people, before her mouth set into a wide grin.
"Ginny! Here!" Hermione waved her arms around, jumping up and down in tandem. Harry couldn't see who Hermione was waving to, but the crowd was being roughly pushed aside as someone made their way towards the pair.
"Hermione! So good to see you!" The woman said, grabbing the older girl into a tight hug and letting go, placing the three of them in a triangular formation.
"Oh my god, I almost forgot to come see you." Hermione said somewhat sheepishly, but Harry wasn't listening. He was staring- no, gaping at the newcomer. Her hair was the exact shade of red as the girl in Harry's dream, and it cascaded down her back in a half up half down style. Her waist was encased in a light yellow sundress, complimenting her red hair. All in all, she was beautiful. Not because of her hair or slender figure, but also because of how her eyes shone as she spoke to Hermione.
"Have I seen you before?" Tumbled out of Harry's mouth before he could stop (or reason), and a pair of bright hazel eyes bore into his own moss green, before glittering again. Ginny simply smiled.
~~~~
And here it is, another AU! I definitely did not plan for this to be a multiple lifetime AU, but Regency!Hinny seemed too good to pass up on. I apologise for what is probably a very poorly written Regency era conversation, my knowledge of it is simply from Bridgerton and Google haha. I decided to keep the end open, just so that you guys can envision your own romance for them! Also, can I just say how I loved writing Lily and James?? It's their little debut in my one-shots yay!
Also, you can find my Ao3 here, where I post quite fluffy Wolfstar one-shots, if that's your thing!
I hope you enjoyed this as usual! Please interact with my pinned TAGLIST post on my account if you wish to be notified of whenever I post Hinny one-shots! Thank you for reading, and big hugs to everyone who loves what I write! Please keep going, it truly makes my day (or week??) xxxx
TAGLIST: @amy-herondale-chase // @purplepygmypuffskein // @ginnypxtter // @alwaysmagica1 // @norakelly // @coffee-fandoms-and-chaos //
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mudhorn-djarin19 · 4 years
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Mission: I Do - Chp. 2 (Agent Whiskey x f!reader)
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Summary: A new mission has come up and you are sent off on it with Agent Whiskey as your partner. However, you have to go undercover as his fiancee. What will this mission mean for you and your harboring crush on him? This chapter is the set up to the mission. This chapter's not the most entertaining and I apologize for that. It's basically a build up/keep the flow going chapter lol. Rating: Teen Warnings: Language, alcohol usage (tipsy), poisoning, mutual pining (please let me know if I missed any) AO3 Link | Masterlist | Join my taglist here! Chp. 1 - more chapters to come! (Will be added here and in taglist) You awake the next morning to yourself being enveloped in warmth. It was comforting but definitely something new to you. You shot your eyes open to find yourself snuggled into Jack’s chest. You nervously panicked and slid back, waking him up in the process.
“Mhm. What’s wrong?” He groans, his voice raspy with sleep. He then notices his hand placed on your hip. You both look up and eye each other before he removes it. “Well… not sure how we got like that. But my apologies.” He chuckles lightly, removing his hand. “It’s okay. I uh.. I somehow moved in my sleep as well.” You chuckle nervously.  “I’m um...going to go get dressed for the day.” You say as you spring up from the bed.
Jack rolls over and looks at the clock to see it’s 10am “Yea better we get dressed, head down for some breakfast and then make our way down to the convention. Get this show on the road.” 
You crawl from the bed and head over to the closet where you had stored your clothes for the trip, going over what you think would be best to wear. You wanted to look nice but nothing too over the top. “I’m going to change in the bathroom and put my makeup on.” You as you step in and shut the door behind you. “Alright, I’ll get dressed out here a while. Jack replies.
Several minutes past before you return from the bathroom. You decided on a simple white sundress with some sandals. You find Jack laying back on the bed. Fully dressed in his normal attire he wears when off duty. Jeans, a plain white t-shirt, boots and his favorite black cowboy hat. He sits up and whistles when he sees you.
“Well don’t you just look gorgeous. All dolled up.” He smirks, eyeing you over. 
You blush slightly, looking down to try to hide it. You didn’t think you had done anything too crazy. You were just wearing simple casual clothes in your opinion. But, apparently to him you looked amazing. “Thank you Jack.” You respond, blushing lightly. 
“I’ve ordered us room service breakfast so it should be here any minute now. We can go over the case  a bit more while we eat.” He says.
Not long after breakfast arrives, you two sit at the little table in the foyer of the room and go over the mission. Jack pulls out his file from his suitcase, going over pictures of the main culprit and anyone else Statesman had pulled files on that are working with the culprit.
“So we need to find the main guy, what company or companies he controls and any of his crew. Take them all down and prevent anymore kidnappings or bombings. The other agents were sent out to spots designated where anyone kidnapped previously been noted to do rescues.” He says, closing the file. “Shouldn’t be too hard. Champ said we have a few locations to keep in our peruse. The convention, a local restaurant, the hotel here itself and a local club. We have a week to complete the mission which is more than enough.” 
You nod listening to him explain as you sip your coffee. This is going to be a long and interesting weekend. Surely is going to be pulling all sorts of ways at your heartstrings. Looking at wedding stuff, sharing a bed and who knows what else for a potential week. You two finish your breakfast and gear up for the day. Jack tucks his whip and lasso to his belt so they’re hidden, while you strap a pistol and knife to your thigh. Always got to be prepared for any potential danger.
Arriving at the venue, you see it’s a large warehouse building full of tables and tables of business to help you plan your wedding. From venues, catering, clothing and more. You hope someday you can actually experience this for real, and hope even more than it could be with Jack who stands beside you. As you take everything in, you feel Jack’s hand grip yours gently, sliding the ring onto your finger. “Forgot that this mornin’. Might need it to keep the cover.” He says. “Oh. Right, sorry. Thank you for remembering.” You respond.
“Of course darlin’. What else is a future husband for?” He smirks, sliding his hand into yours. Interlocking his fingers with yours. 
Lord have mercy… this mission might actually kill you if Jack keeps up his flirtiness on top of everything else.
“Shall we get to perusing?” He says, motioning his hand to the venue. You pull him through the aisles, stopping at a few tables to look at things to seem like actually wedding planning. You decide to stop at a dress stand to look over some dresses for the lady running the booth seemed to match the description of one of the crewmates. “Honey, come look at these!” You shout to him, waving your hand. Jack looks in your direction, noticing why you called him to that booth. He slips on his glasses and hits the button to activate the hidden camera before coming over. Making sure while he made his way over to get the lady’s face in frame and the name of the supposed company. “What do you think of this one?” You ask. Pulling out a long lace sleeved, off the shoulder dress. “Would you like to try it on?” The lady asks.
“Oh uh… I-” You start to say.
“Go on. Try it on. I like it very much. Why you do so, I’ll discuss things with the lady here.” Jack smiles. 
You nod and head into the little changing rooms the lady has while Jack talks to her, hopefully getting some good information out of her. After a few minutes and working to get the dress on you step out from the changing booth to stand in front of Jack and the booth lady. Jack's eyes widen and he about drops his jaw to the floor before he quickly straightens himself out and clears his throat. “Wow darlin’, you look… beautiful.” He smiles, eyeing you over.
“Th-thank you.” You blush, looking down.
“That dress suits you very much! Allow me to give you my business card for future fittings if you’re interested in the dress.” The lady smiles, handing you the card. You gladly take it. Solid, got a location of where potential kidnappings could be happening. You smile and look yourself over one more time before heading back into the changing booth to change back into the clothes you arrived in. You exit the booth and make your way around to some other booths, seeing if any of the runners catch your eyes as crewmates or the main culprit. You go down a few aisles until Jack pulls you into a venue booth. “You know darlin’ I always dreamed of a barn wedding. Something about them is just so simple but elegant all the same. What do you think?” He asks.
As you enter the booth the host greets you and you instantly recognize him to be the main culprit. Thank god Jack still has his glasses on and is recording the whole thing so you can send it back to Ginger later tonight and inform her you found him.
“Hello sir. Ma'am.” He nods his head to you. “I see you are interested in our venue?” He asks.
“Yes sir. Always found myself fond of a rustic barn wedding. But, the decision of the venue is ultimately up to my fine lady here.” He says turning to you.
“I think a barn wedding sounds very nice honey.” You smile. “I’d love to get more information on the venue if we could.”
“Certainly.” The guy smiles, handing you two some pamphlets on the venue, going over information with you and etc. “The venue is my own family's barn. It’s a 200 year old property but we keep it well maintained and we have a bed and breakfast on the property for you and your family to stay at the day and night before.” 
“Sounds lovely to me.” Jack smiles. “We shall take this information and discuss but I think I’m hooked already.” You nod in agreement and part your ways from the guy. Jack leans down to whisper in your ear as you walk away, but hiding it so it looks like he’s kissing you instead.
“That’s definitely him. Hopefully we can run into him again later to corner him and take him down. Good job on finding the other lady. Let me know if you spot anything else and I will do the same for you.” He states.
You nod in response and continue to work your way through the aisles. Looking around to some venues, not really seeing any other people you recognize to be suspicious. But to keep your cover you do pull each other into some booths. Jack pulls you into a catering booth when he sees some good looking food to try. You chuckle as he tastes just about everything there is, handing you pieces to try as well. You manage to pull him into a few booths too, one being a ring booth that caught your eye. You don’t notice him watching you as you eye over your favorites.
Once you two have perused most of the aisles, not finding anything else and realizing it’s getting pretty late in the day you decide to call it a day for the convention. “It’s getting close to dinner time. I’m hungry. How about you?” He asks.
“Definitely. Those little bites of food here and there didn’t stick with me much.” You chuckle.
“Come on, I know of a good place you should try.” He says, leading you to the car. 
Jack decided to treat you to a local fast food favorite, Whataburger. Being a man from the south he knew of all the popular joints. You were raised in the big city of New York, only ever having traveled to new places once joined the Statesman. So any chance you could get to check out a regional thing when on a trip you took the opportunity. You two sat in the pickup truck that was rented for the weekend, chowing down on your food in silence.
“See I told you it was some good shit.” He chuckles.
“Mhm” Is all you can make out as you continue to devour your food.
Once finished eating and back at the hotel you scramble around trying to figure out what to wear. You were to go to the local club up the street tonight to see if you could catch the culprit or anyone there by chance. You’ve been to clubs before on many missions but, you always have a hard time deciding what to wear. You want to fit in but also don’t want to stand out too much. Jack layed back on the bed, sending the information from today over to Champ as you paced back and forth in the room from the dresser to the bathroom. He had already changed as soon as you got back. And by changed, he swapped his white t-shirt for an army green t-shirt and threw on his go to black leather jacket. You finally settled on another dress and slipped into the bathroom for the final time to slip it on and fix your makeup some. 
“Um Jack?” You step out of the bathroom.
He sits up on his elbow from his spot on the bed and about drops his jaw at the sight of you, for the second time today. Whistling at you once again. 
“Damn darlin’... You keep shocking me with your looks. Everytime I think you can’t get more beautiful you do.” He smirks, eyeing you over. 
You chose to wear a silky and almost skin tight all black dress that stopped about mid thigh and had thin spaghetti straps. You blush at his compliment.
“Thank you. Um, do you mind helping me zip the rest of it up?” You say as you step closer and turn your back towards him.
“Not at all.” He says standing and helping you zip the rest of your dress up, knuckles brushing lightly against your skin as he does which sends shivers through your body.
“Thank you. Ready to go?” You ask and you walk over to the door to slip on your pair of heels. 
“Yup. Got your weapons just in case?” He asks as he pats his torso then back knowing his are secured in a  hidden pocket of his jacket and belt.  
You point to your purse where you had your weapons stowed away as they wouldn’t be hidden too well on your person right now.. “Yup. All set.”
“Alrighty, well then let’s goin’!” He says and you both step out to head to the club up the street.
You two walk into the club, Jack has his arm around your waist and leads you over to a free table where you both sit and take a look over of your location. So far no culprit or crew members to be seen. Hopefully they’ll show up eventually. 
“I’m going to get a drink. Want anything?” He asks.
“Um sure. A cocktail please. Anything.” You smile.
He nods and heads off to the bar, leaving you at the table. As you wait you see some of the crew members walk in. Recognizing them from the pictures. Two males and one female. Jack returns shortly with a margarita for you and a glass of his namesake for himself. 
“Jack, three arrived.” You nod your head towards them. The guys standing at the bar and the girl making her way to dance on the dance floor. “I’m going to try to talk to the girl. I’ll be back.” 
You down your drink in one sitting and make your way to the dance floor. This will surely bite you in the ass later but for now who cares. He watches as you make your way over and then focuses his attention back to the two men. You find your groove to the music and work your way over to the girl and start to strike up a conversation with her as you dance. 
“Hey! I like your moves.” You smile at her, starting off friendly. 
“Thanks, you got some good ones too. And your dress is very pretty.” She smiles back. “Not from around here are you?” “No. I’m here for the bridal convention with my fiancee.”  You nod your head over to Jack sitting at the table, sipping at his drink. 
As she turns her head to look in his direction, you quickly drop some poison provided to you and Whiskey both by the agency into her drink. She seems so nice and you hate to do it to her but she is working for the enemy and you need to weed them all out one by one no matter the means. 
“Well congrats girl.” She smiles back. “Welcome to town. Hope the planning is going well.”
“Thank you. What’s your name?” You ask, giving her yours.”
“I’m Nicole. Nice to meet you.” She smiles. 
“Are you from around here?” You ask and start to delve into a conversation with her, getting to know her, slowly picking her brain and getting some useful information out of her that she slips up on about the culprit and other crew members. 
Once you wrap up your conversation you make your way back over to Jack who has now moved himself over to the bar.
“Okay. Got some information out of her and dropped the poison in. Did you get any information from the guys?” You ask.
“Yup. We can compare notes when we get back to the room.” He says, sipping his new glass of whiskey the bartender hands him.
He slides another margarita over to you as well, having ordered one for you in your absence for when you return. You smile and nod in a way to thank him for it but as you start to sip on it you realize the mistake you made. You can already feel the last one you downed far too quickly hitting you, this one is surely to knock you off your feet. But, you shake it off and continue to sip on it as Jack does his.
“We can probably head out of here whenever you are ready. The poison will kick into them within an hour. No more action needed to be done to them and between the both of us we probably got more than enough information until we come across their boss or other crew members.” He says.
As he says this you really feel the alcohol kicking into your system. Your sensibility going out the door as the buzzed feeling takes over you. 
“Jack, I wanna dance.” You state.
“Okay? So then go dance. Ain’t nothing stoppin’ ya. I said we can leave whenever you want to. If you want to stay and dance some go for it.” He says.
“No. I wanna dance with you.” You say smiling at him.
“Well now I’m not much of a dancer darlin’. I ain’t got no rhythm.” 
You pout at him, and finish off the rest of your drink. You grab his hand and tug at him a bit, trying to get him to change his mind and budge off the stool. He sighs deeply and finally stands, giving into your needs.
“Fine fine. I’ll join ya. But don’t complain at how bad I am.” He chuckles, waving his hands at you.
You grab his hands and drag him to the dance floor, wrapping your arms around his neck and swaying to the music. He places his hands on your hips and sways with you as best as he can. He doesn’t have much rhythm but he’s not as bad as he made himself sound out to be. You two sway and dance to the music for a while until you start to feel sick. Man you knew you were a lightweight but you didn’t know it was this bad. How strong were those margaritas?! You stop dancing and look up at Jack.
“I feel sick. Can we go?” You pout.
“Certainly. Going to be okay to make it the short walk back?” He asks.
You make your way back to the hotel and as soon as you get back you crash onto the bed and pass out. Whatever was in the drink was strong and was killing your head. Taglist: @sarahjkl82-blog​ @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange​ @blackberries45​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @prideandpascal​ 
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scary-lasagna · 4 years
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hi! i absolutely loved the ballgown oneshot with slendermom and slenderman! is it okay if i request a similar one with the same prompt, but with a y/n that’s like a daughter figure to slender? i’d prefer an adult y/n, but you can make y/n younger if it’s easier for you to write! tysm! :))
A Mother’s Ballgown [Sequel to Ballgown]
I made the reader from Ballgown the mother of this reader :]
Ballgown [Prequel]
Prompt
“ “I’m sorry if I'm misunderstanding, you invited me over to play dress up?”
“Oh, no, I’m sorry, do you have other opportunities to dress up like Regency era royalty?” “
_______
Your father has always made time for you to spend time together. Especially on weekends, even though there were times where you stop by to bother him during his office hours. But honestly, he was never bothered by you, you were his child. A being who carried his own blood, how could he be put off by you? He endeared you with all of his cold, black heart.
And you were to attend your first Operator party next Wednesday. How you grew up so fast! It seemed as if just yesterday you were feeding on your mother’s stomach lining. And now you’re already blossoming into the age of majority. 
“So why are we at Grandmama’s?”
A familiar and thin hand was placed between your shoulder blades as he ushered you towards the marble staircase. “We’re going to find you a dress for the party next week.”
“Does Grandmama know we’re here?”
“No, and don’t tell her I let you try on clothes without her or I’ll never hear the end of it.” You couldn’t help but giggle at that as your father failed to hide a sly smirk.
“I told you I had a dress, Jane gave it to me and it fits perfectly fine.” It was perfectly fine! It matched the shitty conservative dress code while having the just-right amount of class. 
“The dress is too short; and ugly for that matter.” The tall man ignored the protest of your sucking teeth and lead you into one of the many walk-in closets. “They wouldn’t even let you in with that length and sheer of cloth.” 
“None of Grandmama’s clothes would be able to fit me, I’m sure.” You said a little stubbornly. Your father only huffed and pressed a button similar looking to a doorbell, causing all of the doors in the walk-in to slide open and expose their beauty. All of them were breathtaking! You never knew black could look so pretty other than the night sky. You peeked past his shoulder and scanned the elegant hanging dresses. 
“Perhaps not, but a few of your mother’s dresses are here as well.” He mumbled, taking the hem of the skirt in one of his tendrils and examining the sequins.
Your mother, yes. She had been gone on a business trip for the past four months, and how dearly you missed her presence. It showed in your father as well, as he became more protective and attached to you. She’d be home soon, any day now. And all three of you were hoping she’d be home by the party. She’d love to see you in one of her dresses.
“This one should fit you quite well.” He pulled the gown off the mannequin and held it up to your neck.
“Do you even know what you’re doing?”
“I may not be your beloved fashionable uncle, but I at least know what brings out your inner beauty.”
“Is that why you’ve picked out five other dresses while I was watching you talk?”
The silence was deafening, and it physically hurt not to laugh right in his expressionless face. 
“Just put one on and see how you feel in it.” The other dresses were placed temporarily on a rack as your father started to exit the room. "If you don't like it, there's plenty of others to choose."
“I'm sorry, you invited me over to play dress-up?” The fabric felt heavy in your hand when you examined the layers under it. It looked so heavy, there’s no way you’d be able to walk down the aisle in this, let alone with the addition of heels.
“Oh, no, I’m sorry, do you have other opportunities to dress up like Regency era royalty?” The sass, as usual, was not a surprise. It ran in the family. “I’ll make tea while you get dressed.”
You turned back towards the display, finding a hoop skirt that might fit your needs. “There’s no bloody zipper or anything..” You mumbled, watching as the fabric morphed off of the mannequin. How were you supposed to put it on without a zipper or buttons? Did it just open on its own?
You’d have to find out.
____
None of the dresses fit your taste. Too poofy, too heavy, too much cleavage, not enough neck, the list went on. You sighed in exasperation. There had to be at least one dress in this house that fits you! Maybe another closet would suffice.
Just down the hall, was a walk-in that your Grandmother liked to show you when you were a child. Running your hand over the jewelry gave you a sad, nostalgic feeling. Maybe you were growing up too fast. 
The dress in the main display case was beautiful, it looked heavy with the multiple layers it was sporting, but it was out-ratioed by its astounding glimmer. You had to try it on.
Although difficult by yourself, you managed to secure the body of the dress around your hips. It slimmed your waist and filled your hips to perfection. And with surprise after taking your first steps in the gown, it had a high slit that your leg peeked through teasingly. 
You really liked it.
The clinking of the teacups against the platter alerted you before your father even entered the room. 
“You look just like your mother did when she tried on that dress.” His tall figure stood behind you, flipping up the lace collar around your slender neck. A ribbon pressed to the back of your neck as he sidestepped to tie it in front in a small bow.
"This was hers?"
"And your Grandmothers. She had to find a dress for her wedding, and as you can tell your Grandmother is full to the brim with expensive ballgowns." He was straightening the skirt now to compliment the train.
"YOU'RE TRYING ON CLOTHES WITHOUT ME?"
Both of you physically jumped at the yelling, and there stood your Grandmama. With a knight's sword.
"Grandmama! Why do you have a sword?!" 
"It's an accessory." She teased, pacing over to you. She was still wearing her business suit from work. "No, I thought someone found a way of breaking in." Your grandmother dismissed, setting the blade by one of the dressers. 
"You could've asked who it was."
"Yes, because if it had been a thief, I'm sure they would have answered me." She said sarcastically over the sound of clinking jewelry. You glanced at your father with a shared look, trying not to chuckle.  "Here! I found it." 
The clicking of her heels paced over towards you, and the cool metal of the necklace bit your skin. "This is the exact outfit your mother wore." She whispered, combing her clawed fingers through your hair to fluff it up.
"Including the lack of shoes." You hid your toes under the hem after your father mused, joining your grandmother to admire his daughter in the mirror. You smiled, feeling a rush of glow and proudness as he placed a hand on your shoulder. "You look divine, Mäuschen*. Your mother will without a doubt be overjoyed that you stole her wedding gown."
You giggled, "I'll just tell her you let me do it.
“Of course,  verwöhntes kind**.“
*  Mäuschen = Small mouse, cute.
**  verwöhntes kind = Spoiled child.  
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buckstaposition · 4 years
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I cling to your lips like gloss (1)
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a Javier Peña x OFC story 
now also on AO3
author: @youhavereachedtheendofpie (if u wanna come say hello on main)
rating/warnings: swearing, mentions of character death
words: 5521
Author’s note: dude this chapter fought me every step of the way but it’s here now so suck it, muses or whatever
---
Tag list: @keeper0fthestars @opheliaelysia @dindjarindiaries (thank you sweeties whom I will hold forever in my heart)
(message me if you want to be added to the list)
Masterlist
Prologue
Chapter 1 - The Informant
'Liliana' the file said. I was tucked away in the locked bottom drawer of his old desk, the one he hadn't even had time to clear out when they'd sent him away. To be fair, Javier had only known to look because Murphy had called him to tell him about this informant. It sounded too good to be true. An informant coming to them of their own accord, ready to spill valuable inside secrets of the Calí cartel, and they didn't even want payment? One would be forgiven, in their line of work, to smell a trap. But Murphy had vouched for this one, and he trusted Murphy, knew that his partner (former partner) did his homework with due diligence. That, and the first batch of intel Murphy had brought back from their first few meetings had already proven invaluable. 
There was apparently only one hiccup, and it was that the informant refused to talk to any agents other than him or Murphy. It had even led to Steve having to postpone his return to the States for almost two months, until it was clear that Javier would return to Colombia. Fair enough, he'd need to make up his own mind about them anyway. He collected the file and tucked it into the box that held all the stuff he'd cleared out of the desk, since he would now officially be moving a an office of his own.
Upon arriving in said office, he kicked the door closed and sat, lighting a cigarette and reaching for the file. As thin as it was, it still took him almost an hour to work through it, though half of the time was spent deciphering Murphy's chicken scratch mess of annotations. The rest was spent on making his own. After checking the time, Javier fetched himself a cup of the same old tar brew that passed for coffee here, lit another cigarette, and dialled Steve's new office number in Miami. 
"Murphy."
"Alright, I've read the file." Javier started without preamble. Perhaps that was a bit short. He grimaced, then added, "About the informant. Liliana."
"Yeah, I figured." Steve exhaled probably puffing away at his own nicotine habit. Javier meant to quit, but kept pushing it off. The intent was all there was to it, at this stage. "So what're you calling me for, big boss?"
Javier elected to ignore the taunt, knowing it was friendly. 
"You've met her. Is she legit?"
"Why, you smelling a trap?"
Pathological mistrust was a feature one acquired while on this job. Those who didn't ended up dead. Those who did would still end up dead, just later and more jaded. Either way you'd get a lot of other people killed on the way. "Just making sure." 
They spent the next half hour and a bit going over the file together, comparing notes, catching up, thinking aloud - all of which were much easier to do when they had each other to bounce off of. It felt good, almost like old times. Javier went through close to a third of his pack of cigarettes, the air growing heavy in the windowless room. Just as well that it was almost time to wrap this up. A look at his watch told him that it was getting late in the day, and that Steve would want to get home to his family. All Javier could hope for at this point was avoiding resident CIA-asshole Bill Stechner on his way out, at least on this day. 
"You won't be able to pull your usual shit with this one." Steve remarked, accompanied by the sound of shuffling papers. Javier bristled, even though he knew the things people said about him, both behind his back and to his face. 
"What's that supposed to mean?" Knowing didn't mean it didn't, occasionally, sting, but he'd given up on trying to influence other people's minds long ago. A reputation once acquired was not easily shed, not that he'd made much of an effort to. 
"It means that you shouldn't. Pull your usual crap with this one. For one I hardly think it'll be necessary."
"That would be new." Javier snorted. He could hear Steve's eyeroll through the phone. 
"Still the same asshole-" Steve snarked. "I'm just saying be nice for once, especially since that woman's intel is the only reason you still have a job. She's a nice lady, so with a bit of luck some of that might even rub off on you." 
"And I'm the asshole..." 
"So everyone keeps saying." 
"Fuck you, Steve."
"Go fuck yourself, Javi." Steve's chuckle told him it was all in good humor. "And don't fuck this informant."
"Yeah, yeah," Javier waved it off. The woman was an accountant, for fuck's sake. Note exactly his usual type. Or the type he usually attracted. 
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- 
They were meeting at one of the small restaurants lining the edge of Parque Sabaneta in Medellín. Over the phone her voice had sounded... hesitant, above all else. Tinny, too, but he blamed the connection for that. And he'd brought her a satellite phone for future contacts; her driving out to remote phone cells and him waiting for calls after hours in his office just didn't cut it. 
There hadn't been a picture in the file, but Steve's description had been quite accurate and Javier was able to pick her out at the table she'd chosen before making himself known. Dark hair and darker eyes behind large, slightly old-fashioned glasses. She was almost tall and hid her figure underneath loose-fitted clothing; today a flowy blouse and high-waisted dress pants, and a bulky cardigan against the spring chill that lingered even into the late morning. Her hair was pulled back into a low bun that reminded him of his fifth grade math teacher, Ms Jenkins. Javier approached the table. 
"Diana Rivas?" She froze for a split-second before relaxing again, returning his greeting softly. In real life her voice was deeper than he would have anticipated, raspier too, but not unpleasant - the kind of voice one would expect first thing in the morning, just after waking up. 
"I do hope your drive was not too tiring, Agent Peña." she said as he sat. He grimaced slightly. The drive had been long, above all else. Not his first choice of how to spend a Friday morning. Well, he'd endured worse for this job. But next time he'd definitely travel by plane.
"Do they serve decent coffee here?" Javier scrubbed a hand over his burning eyes and settled, resuming his assessment. She squirmed slightly under his unrelenting gaze, but squared her shoulders after a moment, meeting his gaze head-on and motioning a waiter over with a flick of her delicate wrist. 
"Of course they do, this is Medellín!" She sounded mildly offended, then ignored him in favor of telling the waiter their order. Javier took the time to observe her further. 
No make-up, no jewellery, save for a simple, functional watch and a small silver locket on a long, thin chain. No wedding band either, but the paleness and indentation around her ring finger still indicated that she'd worn one in the recent past. Her features were soft and feminine, with high cheekbones and a pointed chin, all making her look younger than she purportedly was. His gaze caught on her defined cupid's bow just a second too long. Her complexion seemed far too sunkissed for someone who spent most of their time indoors, in air-conditioned office spaces. In conclusion, undeniably lovely to anyone with eyes who cared to look, but obviously taking great pains to discourage closer scrutiny, to look as mousy and plain as possible. It worked, to a degree. 
It occurred to Javier that maybe he should actually talk to her, since that's what he'd come here for. 
"Do you always begin your interrogations with the silent treatment? I can see how that might be effective." She beat him to it, just before the coffee cups were set on the table in front of them. 
"This isn't an interrogation." he groused, taking a tentative sip of the coffee. The scent of it alone was enough to wake the dead; it was heavenly. He'd have to see if he could weasel some halfway decent coffee out of his budget at the office. 
"Regardless, I only have until noon today. We can meet again tomorrow; I can make myself available all afternoon for you, Agent Peña." 
Javier huffed out a breath before taking another sip. "Why can you suddenly do Medellín anyway? You had Murphy travel across half the country to meet you." 
She made a face at that, something between annoyed and apologetic. "My aunt, she... she's sick and been getting worse. I make the time to come down here every other weekend now to help her."
"And your employers are alright with that?" He hadn't exactly pegged the Calí cartel for employers of the year. Or to pioneer part-time models so their employees could care for sick relatives.
"As long as the work gets done, yes. It means I work ten to eleven hour days Monday to Thursday, but I am the only one left in this family..." She sniffled a little and swept the tips of her fingers under the plastic rim of her glasses, wiping at her eyes. Javier looked away, pretending it was to give her privacy. He imagined this unusually forthright woman walking up to Pacho Herrera to ask for reduced work hours so she could care for her aunt- That could really have gone either way, but somehow he thought that was probably not how it happened, or whom she'd asked. He just couldn't picture it. Maybe one of the brothers; they liked to style themselves as charitable family men, to a degree.
"Anyway, Medellín's closer for you, and we're less likely to be found out here. They like to keep security pretty tight in Calí. My friend Angelika calls it the Calí Stasi, and she's from the former East Germany, so she'd know." 
He hummed in acknowledgement, his coffee almost gone and him almost feeling like a living human being again. He flagged the waiter down for another. 
"In any case, I am glad that we can keep this to Spanish now. My English is not very ...confident." She prattled on, sipping from her own cup. Murphy had told him that she'd brought a dictionary to their first meeting, and apparently, with his former partner's dismal language skills, they'd actually needed it. 
"I'm sure your English is better than Murphy's Spanish." Steve had told him as much, but then again, Steve's Spanish was shit, so it really wasn't saying much. There was something else niggling at the back of his mind. 
"Why me?" 
Her glasses slid down her nose half an inch or so in surprise at his -admittedly abrupt- question. "I'm sorry?"
"Murphy said you wanted to speak to me specifically when you first called. Why?" 
She hesitated a moment, squirmed a little and averted her eyes, then pushed her glasses back up her nose before answering, softer than before. "Gabriela said you could be trusted."
"...Gabriela?" He said sharply, neck flushing at the thought of the beautiful redhead. 
She shrunk in on herself, hands fidgeting nervously in her lap. Perhaps his voice had come out a little bit harsher than intended. He hadn't even thought that she'd actually tell him her real name. He'd just been a client after all. 
"Yes," Miss Rivas breathed out, her voice so soft now that he had to lean halfway across the table to even catch it. "She's my best friend. We've been inseparable since the firts day of school. We tell each other everything. She told me she knew a DEA agent; that's why I told my cousin to go to her when she ran into trouble with Pablo Escobar-"
"Your cousin???" He almost roared. It came out as more of a whisper-yell, but she still flinched, eyes going wide behind the lenses. 
"Yes, my cousin," she said carefully, "Maritza Rincón." 
"Maritza–" he patted his pocket for a smoke and swore under his breath when he remembered how he'd left them in the car with the intention of advancing his 'quit smoking'-idea beyond idle talk. "What is this, a fucking trap? Very elaborate setup just to yell at me, missy. Unless you've got some buddies of yours here to–"
"What- what are you *talking* about? I don't blame you for Maritza's death!" By now people were staring. Not a lot of them, since it wasn't really the time yet for the midday crowd and too late for the morning rush, but the few pensioners and whatnot were definitely sensing the tension at their table. Javier gave up on his cigarette search and took a deliberate breath, willing himself to calm down. 
"Maritza is dead?" He hadn't known that. He wasn't sure how he would have learned of it, but it still shocked him regardless. He looked over to see her fidget with her locket, lips pressed tight and trembling. Shit. Another informant on his conscience, fucking great. 
"I'm sorry, I didn't-" he started, his voice catching. He bought himself time with his now lukewarm coffee, "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't know that. I-"
"It's alright." She whispered, in a tone of voice that clearly indicated it wasn't. She swept her glasses off with trembling fingers and pressed beneath her eyes, as if to restrain the tears that pooled in her lashes. 
"I'm sorry." Javier said again, insistent, soft, sincere. "What happened?" 
"We- I don't know. She called me to say she was in trouble with Escobar, and I helped her set up the meeting with Gabi."
"With me." He remembered that evening, that young girl sitting in Gabriela's apartment, ready to be sprung on him. Part of him had resented it; Gabriela had been someone he'd sought out to get away from the damn narcos and their dealings. Miss Rivas nodded. 
"Yes. It was that idiot Jhon. He was one of the neighborhood kids. Growing up he'd always had a crush on her..." She talked a lot, he found. It should irritate him more, the way she'd throw in seemingly irrelevant asides without explaining further. Instead he only found himself worrying that someone so pathologically honest could not possibly keep the Gentlemen of Calí off her tracks, at least not if she kept spilling her life story so eagerly. 
" ...and then she hid out on her uncle's farm again, where my auntie - her mom - grew up and went back to after my uncle - that's Maritza's dad - died of a heart attack. Auntie had been out for the day and when she came back- "
He can't bear to listen to it, but forces himself to anyway. In the sea of his regrets, what's one more? Besides, there's nothing else he can do for the girl now; the least he can do is witness how he failed her. 
For all her unassuming bluntness, Diana Rivas is not one to hold back, even on unsavoury details. At least he doesn't get the sense that she does it to torment when she tells him how they found Maritza's lifeless body with her young daughter next to her.  
By the end of that sorry tale, he has his head in his hands, Miss Rivas is still just this side of openly weeping, and all the other patrons have demonstratively averted their attention so as not to impose on what must, on the outside, look like an urgent case for a damned good couples' counselor. 
"I'm sorry, I know this is a lot." And why in the hell is she apologizing?
"No shit." And yeah, he has to digest this before he can even think of making any attempt at non-destructive human interaction. "You couldn't tell Murphy any of this?"
She gave him a look. 
"Yeah, alright. Sorry." More than just a language barrier, got it. 
"I didn't come here today with the intention to relive this, you know?" She said archly. He supposed she had all the right to be upset. And he'd never had a meeting with an informant turn this harrowing, which was really saying something. 
"I'm sorry." He said again, putting the weight of sincerity behind the words. Her hands were in the table now, fidgeting again as she sat slightly hunched over, staring into her coffee cup.
"Unless your government has a time machine to spare, I would prefer not talking about it again. At least not more than necessary." She replaced her glasses and checked her watch. "1 pm tomorrow?"
Javier nodded dumbly, already plucking a few bills out of his wallet to pay for the coffee. "Yeah, 1 pm is okay. Where?"
"Meet me at the church. Santa Ana. You know it?" He didn't particularly, as in he didn't know its name before now, but he could see the building's tall white facade from where they were sitting. 
"Iglesia de Santa Ana, 1 pm tomorrow." Javier confirmed, rising as she did. The stared at each other for a moment, unsure of how to conclude this meeting, until she stuck her hand out for him to shake. He took her smaller, slender hand in his, squeezing it wordlessly. 
"Until tomorrow, Agent Peña." She said, managing a sad little smile. "I hope you'll get some rest. You look like shit." 
Javier bit down every one of the snarky replies that sprung to mind, not least because he knew it was true. His bags had bags and he itched for a smoke.
And to think, this was Murphy's 'nice lady'. 
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
Somehow it hadn't occurred to him that at the church meant inside the church. Not until a very miffed face peered out between the heavy doors, giving him a look as he stood there smoking. 
"It's barely been five minutes!" Javier defended himself, stubbing out the cigarette beneath his heel. 
"It's 1:07pm." She informed him matter-of-factly, pushing the glasses back up her nose pointedly as she made to turn back inside. Javier caught the door, crowding perhaps a bit too close, but the damned thing was heavy. 
"Sorry." He said simply, seeing no point in making a scene out of it. She had to crane her neck just the slightest bit to meet his gaze. 
"Wait here, I'll be out in a minute." And with that she stalked off. Javi watched her sweep down the aisle, her hair and skirt fluttering behind her. She wore her hair loose today, the ends of it curling around her shoulders, and a simple off-white shirt dress that reached down to mid-calf. He let his eyes trail after her, leaning his weight more fully against the heavy wood of the door to lever it open. She walked around two thirds of the way down the pews before stopping by a... baby carriage? 
She bent over it before carefully wheeling it around and starting back towards the door. Javier racked his tired brain. The file hadn't said anything about a kid. Married five years but no children. That didn't seem like the kind of thing one would easily miss, and he knew Murphy to be thorough in his inquiries. 
"Who's this then?" He peered inside the carriage -more of a buggy really now that he got a closer look- and barely caught a glance of a dozing toddler with soft brown curls, while hoisting the door open wider to let her pass more easily. "Didn't know you had a kid."
"I don't." The buggy caught on the threshold and jolted, and a displeased cry came from inside it, making her curse under her breath. "This is Maritza's daughter, Salome. I've got it! Just- the door, just get the door!"
The last part of that came out high and sharp, much like the crack of a whip, and in direct response to Javier's attempt to swoop in and help heave the buggy over the worn-down threshold. He jolted back on instinct, grunting when the door swung squarely into his spine. Who the hell was responsible for all these old-ass church doors being solid enough to squash an actual living human between them?
After some fumbling they managed to make it out with most of their dignity still intact. Javier bent down and quickly shoved the bag he'd brought into the wire basket underneath the buggy's seat, next to her purse. 
"Where to?" He asked, straightening up again. Miss Rivas still looked cross, her lips pressed together.
"Follow along. There are some secluded benches a little walk away." And off she was, leavin him to catch up.
"If your intention is to disguise this meeting as just another family enjoying the sun I suggest you slow down a little." Javier hissed under his breath. He'd actually had to jog a bit to keep up with her steamroller pace. She looked even more annoyed and declined to grace him with an answer, but slowed with a sigh that told him that this was indeed her intention. It was a smart enough plan, he wouldn't dispute that. 
At least the kid seemed to have calmed from her little jostle-startle, seeing as she was now quietly babbling away as if narrating the sights. Javier tried to loosen his tense shoulders and to look like he was enjoying himself as they fell into step ambling along the walkways between the lush greenery. 
"How old is she?" he asked, thinking that perhaps some small talk would ease the woman's sullen mood. 
"Almost two and a half." Or not. Well, he tried. Javier wasn't exactly an expert with kids and none of his previous informants had ever shown up with theirs. Not that that would have been appropriate considering the circumstances. They walked for about a quarter of an hour, which Javier spent agonizing about how to smooth over the sudden mood change Miss Rivas was displaying compared to the day before. By the time they'd made it to their destination he was no closer to that goal. 
She sat with a weary sigh, shaking out her flowy skirt before sitting and rolling her sleeves up to her elbows. It was much warmer today than when they'd met previously, only in part due to the later hour. Stiffly, Javier sat down next to her at a distance that instantly belied their 'family outing' cover. She turned to him after checking on the baby, peeling back the sunshade of the buggy to allow her to look around. 
"You can smoke if you want to." Miss Rivas said offhandedly, her tone forcedly polite. Javier cleared his throat. 
"I'm actually trying to quit."
Her lips quirked into a pleasant curve. "And how's that going?"
Javier sighed. "I'm thinking I might have chosen the wrong time."
"Or the wrong job."
The laugh that bursts forth from him is short, but not altogether hollow. "Yeah, or that."
"Very well, then you may not smoke even though you might want to." 
Javier smiled. Couldn't help it, really. He had been worried that he'd somehow managed to offend her during their last meeting. He said as much, and she shook her head with a look of remorse.
"No, it's not your fault. It's just..." She pushed her glasses up and rubbed at her eyes, revealing the dark rings that had previously been hidden beneath the plastic rim. "Yesterday dredged up some things, and I didn't sleep well as a consequence. That always makes me snippy. And to top things of, this one," she leaned over to unbuckle the child and heave her into her lap, "was being fussy all morning, which didn't help. Sorry for being so short with you earlier."
"In this job, people usually shoot at me. It's alright, really. You're alright." Truth be told, he was glad she pulled herself out of this funk. Maybe she was as nice as Murphy claimed after all. The kid looked at him with large, round, strangely sage eyes. I got your mommy killed. I got your mommy killed and you had to watch. If he had gotten her that visa- The thought made him gulp, made him dizzy and nauseous and if there was anything to be glad for in this situation it was that he was already sitting down. Miss Rivas replaced her glasses and looked at him with furrowed brows. He felt like he was being read. 
"I already told you that I don't blame you for Maritza." Javier tried his damnedest not to squirm underneath that discerning stare. Screw read, he felt like he was being flayed open. "Obviously you still blame yourself."
"Wouldn't you?" He shot back, defensive. She didn't answer for a moment, gently rocking the kid who had grabbed a hold of her locket and started to play with it. 
"I have enough regrets of my own, Agent Peña." Part of him wants to scoff, even just to dispel the heavy moment, but the severity in her tone nips that impulse in the bud. Instead, he clears his throat and gestures to the buggy where he stored his bag earlier.
"I brought you something." 
Her features soften into not quite a smile, but something close enough. "What a coincidence, so have I."
And then she hands him the toddler, who lets out a displeased cry at having her toy wrenched from her chubby hands in so unceremonious a manner, and Javier freezes as her squirmy weight is settled in his lap, only his hand shooting out to steady her on instinct. Up close her big brown eyes are even more enormous. 
"Um, hi. Nice to meet you, Miss Salome. I'm Javier." He says awkwardly and is met with a pout. This is patently terrible and reminds him of the few times he'd been handed baby Olivia. She'd started crying instantly nine times out of ten. He hopes against hope that today will be a deviation from that norm. Salome considers him a long moment, blinking owlishly and making that certain kind of skeptical face that little kids so often do. He's had less tense moments in interrogations. He might be sweating in a way that has little to do with the midday heat. 
And then Salome blows him a raspberry and dives for his wrist to investigate the shininess of his watch. And when he can breathe again he allows himself a smile. Of relief, mostly. In stark contrast to the smile Miss Rivas wears as she regeards them both, which is pure mischief with a dash of smugness. 
"Well look at that. You passed muster, Agent Peña." Miss Rivas set both their bags down in the space between them, then leaned over to press a quick kiss to little Salome's soft curls. And Javier has been much closer to many women than this; his heart shouldn't lurch at the sudden proximity, the waft of her perfume or the light brush of her soft hair over his bare forearm.
"Ladies first." Javier gestured at the bags between them. She smiled and rummaged through hers, producing two thick stacks of folded papers, either parcel secured with a rubber band. 
"Trade you?" she motioned at the girl, who was now intently examining the fingers of his right hand. Reluctantly, he let Miss Rivas pluck the small child from his lap and stand her next to the bench. Salome frowned adorably for a moment at having been interrupted in pulling his pinky finger off, then realized she was free to roam around and brightened instantly, hitting the bench a few times with chubby palms and babbling. 
"Yes, of course I have your toy, sweetie." Miss Rivas said earnestly, presenting a brightly colored ball. Salome grabbed for it with a squeal, her momentum propelling her straight onto her backside. Miss Rivas turned back to Javier with that soft, fond expression still on her face and handed him one of the parcels. 
"Do... did you want to go over this? While I'm here to explain things?"
"That complex, huh?"
"Well, it's a lot to do with creative book-keeping and tax law loopholes. It's more about how they structure their business to launder their incomes than anything else, but it'll still be helpful in building a case, no?" 
It is, which is the whole reason he's been sent back here apparently. And while it's nothing the analysts back at the office can't handle (probably), he still likes being in the loop. And also maybe because he enjoys the sound of her voice. In any case he peels off the rubber band and unfolds the stack of papers, keeping a careful hand around it to ensure that nothing blows away in the spring breeze. Miss Rivas pulled out a pencil from her purse and shuffled closer. Close enough that he can smell her perfume again. - - - Over the following hour and a half Javier realized several important things: 
One. Diana Rivas is likely one of the cleverest people he has ever met. By page eight his head is swimming with numbers, but her even explanations make even tiered corporate tax rebate systems sound fascinating. Even in his line of work, he'd never truly considered accounting to be the stuff of suspense, but she makes it sound like a thriller that even the brightest heads in Hollywood would have trouble coming up with. 
Two. Having to do anything while keeping an eye in a rambunctious small child who is still learning to walk is a uniquely stressful experience. Little Salome is bouncing around the small patch of grass in front of the bench much like her ball, endowed with seemingly endless reservoirs of energy. She crashes into his knee a few times while chasing her ball or deciding that playing hide and seek underneath the bench is a better use of her time, and it puts him on edge that he feels responsible at all. 
Three. The Rodríguez brothers make more than enough money from their few legitimate businesses to never have to worry themselves financially. Not that this had been in question, technically, but to see the numbers in black and white is still galling, even if he's not nearly as incensed about it as Miss Rivas seems to be. And while Javier is far from a religious man, he does consider greed that is levered with blood to be at least distateful. 
Four. It's not her perfume he smelled earlier, but her shampoo, bright and fruity, with high notes of citrus. 
Five. As long as this is all they have and all she can get, the DEA cannot make a move against the Calí cartel. His orders had been very clear on that. Nail them down beyond escape and make absolutely sure you get them into custody, in that order. It means that whatever Miss Rivas can reveal about the inner financial working of the cartel is valuable, but on its own won't be enough. As always in this job it's sorting through a haystack with a rake in search of needlepoints. 
Which brings him to the next thing he needs to ask her. Needs to ask her to do for him, and the operation, to be specific, and he can already tell she'll say yes eagerly. Eager informants should be a blessing, but their eagerness seems to directly correlate with their likelihood of getting killed, or close enough. 
"This is for you." He says instead, handing her the satellite phone. There's directions that go with it, but he takes the time to walk her through it nonetheless. Also his numbers, both office and home, just in case. He watched as she carefully tucked everything into her purse.
It's later in the afternoon now - past three - and Salome comes toddling over, handing Javier her ball and sitting down on the grassy ground with a world-weary sigh. 
"Okay, time for your nap I think, young lady." Miss Rivas plucked the child from the ground and stood to deposit her back in the buggy, then holding out her hand to him expectantly. He hands the ball over after a split-second of dumbstruck hesitation. 
"Well, goodbye then, Agent Peña." 
He stood. Offered her his hand to shake, which she took. "I'll call you during the week. What time is good for you?" 
"Any time between seven and ten. I'll probably be in Medellín again in a month. I'll let you know if I have more intel by then." He nodded, finally releasing her hand after realizing he still had her fingers clasped in his. She smiled and turned to leave, wheeling the buggy around from its resting position and onto the footpath. "Oh, and Agent Peña?" She turned halfway, throwing the words over her shoulder with a smirk. "Gabriela won't be available tonight, just so you know. We're meeting for dinner and general catching up."
His neck flushed hotly, both despite and because he'd had no intention of visiting her. 
"Thanks," he said stiffly, "Give her my best."
"Will do!"
Shaking his head, Javier watched her retreat until she disappeared from view behind a bend in the path.
-------------------------------------------------------
Further author’s note bc apparently I have more to say:
I’m gonna play a bit fast and loose with the timeline, because the show makes it look like Javi was sent back pretty much immediately and it only took those ~6 months to take down the cartel bosses, but in reality Escobar died in December of 1993 and the Calí godfathers weren’t arrested until summer of ‘95, so I’m sending Javi back to Colombia in the first half of ‘94 (April to be specific), meaning the time frame for this story is about a year
also I thought Maritza’s daughter in the series was still a baby, but upon rewatch it is actually stated in s2 ep4 that she’s two, and now I had to rewrite those parts. As to why she doesn’t speak, that’s actually something that will come up later and has nothing to do with my bad memory of the series. though tbh I probably assumed that because Olivia was a baby for like three years. (also according to the timeline I determined Maritza’s daugher would actually be between three and four at this point, but I’m going to disregard that. I’ve already had to age her up once and for the purposes of this story I need her to be still this little)
Chapter 2
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ao3bronte · 4 years
Text
Mamma Mia AU [Part 6]
READ PART 5 HERE!
Take A Chance On Me
Six months later...
Never in her wildest dreams did Marinette expect to be sitting where she is now, dressed to the nines in one of her own highly sought after designs. Having just released her very first collection, M by MarinetteDesigns, at the beginning of December, all of her custom made prêt-à-porter fashions were flying off the racks. She’d even had to hire another seamstress just to get through the backlog of formal wear commissions that she’d received ever since Alya’s BuzzFeed friends set up her social media accounts and started repping her brand all over their articles and personal posts.
But more on that later.
At the moment, Marinette is sitting at a huge, zigzag communal table under the glassed-in rooftop patio on top of a boutique hotel in Le Marais, clapping her hands and cheering as the two people she never thought she’d see together emerge from behind closed doors hand in hand. Jagged Stone performs an epic guitar solo from the platform as Luka picks up his new bride and spins her around, grinning like a maniac.
The wedding itself is a completely bombastic affair with celebrities and the like sneaking here and there to avoid the paparazzi. Marinette feels like a kid in a candy store as Luka’s guests file in left and right, most of them artists and bands she loves to listen to. And his bride, of course, doesn’t have much of her family along for the wedding. The media backlash from her mother’s empire had been outlandish, especially in Japan, but she’d ended up fitting right in with most of Luka’s ragtag group of friends in Los Angeles. With the help of her new husband and their support circle, she’d risen above the controversy and won the Olympic gold medal in fencing, bringing honour to herself for the first time in her life.
Sporting a gorgeous red rose tattoo on her upper arm, Kagami Tsuguri Couffaine turns around and gives everyone that trademark smirk of hers, welcoming them to their reception. Luka can’t keep his hands off of her, his eyes practically bulging out of his skull when she plunks her leg up onto the chair she’s supposed to be sitting on and demands he take her garter off with his teeth. The partygoers roar as Luka does just that, emerging victorious with a red and navy strap of fabric hanging from his canines.
Satisfied with his performance, Kagami calls all of the single and unmarried ladies attending her wedding to the platform and waves her rose and orchid bouquet over her head for the traditional toss. Hoping to avoid the pitying glances, Marinette pretends to be completely consumed by her emails and ducks her head in the hopes that no one will notice her. She would have been successful too, had it not been for the exchange of raised eyebrows and playful glances between the bride, the groom and a few other savant attendees.
“One, two, three!” Kagami cries, launching her bouquet into the air. Like a missile locked on a target, it somersaults right over everyone’s heads and thwacks an unassuming Marinette straight in the face, knocking her right off her chair.
“Oh my god, Marinette!” Alya squeals, laughing as her best friend spits petals from her lips. Everyone is cheering as Marinette slowly stands up and waves the bouquet above her head, blushing with embarrassment.
“I don’t even have a boyfriend,” she shakes her head, still smiling despite not having a plus one by her side. She’s long accepted the fact that she’s going to be on her own for good and surprisingly, she feels better for it. Acceptance is the first step, after all, and Marinette has been going to so many weddings lately as an honoured guest for designing the wedding and bridesmaids dresses that the blank space at her side hardly bothers her any longer. She’s even started working on tuxedos!
Way, way down the table, Marinette tries to ignore the ghost from her past crowding the open bar with Nino and the rest of the boys. She’d said hello politely but otherwise avoided him, if only to keep a tamper on her feelings; even though her love has long withered down to smothered embers, Marinette wants to be careful to avoid the winds of change that would flare those feelings in her soul.
The food at Luka and Kagami’s wedding is fantastic and the music is even more so. After the first course, Luka invites everyone up to form a mosh pit as Jagged plays a brand new track off his upcoming album and Marinette is absolutely thrilled to bop around, screaming at the top of her lungs with her hands in the air. She’s as free as a bird and the gorgeous, rock star inspired dress she has on leaves little to the imagination as she sways and shakes to the music. Alya catches it all on TikTok, much to Marinette’s chagrin, and captions it: ‘What a catch! 🎣 How is my girl still single?!’
After, everyone takes a breather and sits back down at the table, its decorated surface filled to the brim with food served family style on colourful, mismatched platters. Marinette loves the boho aesthetic of the different multi-hued plates and napkins, the discordant textures and silverware already inspiring another collection for her fashion line. She digs into the huge heaping of pasta that Alya had plopped onto her plate and laughs along with her girlfriends as they eat the night away under the Parisian lights.
As the main course is being cleared from their tables, the wedding band begins to play and couples slowly but surely leave their tables for a tour of the dance floor. Alya jokingly offers a ‘samba-à-trois’ with her and Nino but Marinette laughingly declines, prefering to watch and take photos of her friends while they’re enjoying themselves. She’s got a knack for capturing the perfect shot and Marinette is just about to turn back towards her table to edit them when someone calls her name.
“Marinette!”
No matter how many months and years pass between them, he’ll always stop her in her tracks.
“You look beautiful tonight,” Adrien compliments her breathlessly, a sheen of sweat on his brow. He’s been dancing with the boys, hauling them up in the air on his shoulders as the party throbs around them, “I mean—you look beautiful always! It’s just—uh, tonight you look...especially beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Marinette responds, desperately trying to keep her voice even. She can’t help but transpose the black mask over his features as he runs his fingers through his messy hair, his cheeks flushed from exertion, “You look...handsome yourself.”
“Th-thank you!” he stutters, looking strangely unkempt for someone who always seems to have it together, “I just—um. Do you want to dance with me?”
He offers her his hand and she stares at it, the technicolour lights casting shadows on his upturned palm, “I...thank you for...um, offering but—”
“Please,” he beseeches her, his eyes blown wide, “I’ve missed you.”
Marinette gulps, her throat tightening against the emotions rekindling in her chest, “I’m…”
“Just one,” he says, taking a small, tentative step towards her, “And if you...if you don’t want to see me again after, I can do that.”
Her heart clenches. Tikki punches her thigh through her skirt.
“Just one,” she says eventually, placing her hand gently overtop of his. He grasps her like their lives depend on it and Marinette is suddenly thrust back to the days where their entwined fingers meant the difference between defeat and victory. He slumps with relief and pulls her towards his chest, resting his other hand on the small of her back.
And they dance.
Her heartbeat skips with every step as they sway to the music, lost in their own private orbit of things left unsaid. Adrien can’t keep his eyes away and she can hardly catch his gaze without burning up, finding it far easier to stare at the knot of his loosened tie. Somehow, they drift closer and closer until his lips are a hair’s breadth away from the crown of her head and Marinette can feel the warmth of his body coming off of him in waves, setting her skin on fire.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he whispers, his words barely there, “When I left after the wedding...I knew it was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made and I’d do anything to take it back.”
Marinette trips a little, stumbling into his chest, “Adrien—”
“I’ve been meaning to tell you everything but Alya told me you blocked me and I...I wanted to respect that. So I’ve been waiting six months to tell you what I should have told you all those years ago,” Adrien’s voice wavers,  “I’ve loved you since the day we first fought together. The problem was, at eighteen, I thought I loved the idea of freedom more.”
“I was wrong, though. I was so, so wrong and I’ve spent the last four years of my life regretting every second. I’ve transferred to TU Delft to finish off my graduate degree so I can be closer to home. I want to come back on the weekends to fight by your side again and repair our relationship, but only if you want to. I just...I know I’ve been an awful partner and an even more awful friend so I totally understand if you never want to see me again but...I thought I would just try.”
Marinette swallows, fighting the tears that prickle at the corners of her eyes, “I’m sorry, Adrien. But I...thank you for the apology.”
He makes no move to let go and neither does she, “It’s...it’s okay. You’ve been doing so well on your own. I just want to be closer though, in case something happens. The Netherlands is only a few hours away by bus.”
The music slowly wanes and Marinette steps back, averting her gaze, “I guess it’s time for dessert.”
Adrien swallows, loosening his tie further, “Right. I...um, I’ll talk to you later?”
“Sure,” she says, finally glancing back up at him. He looks wrecked, for lack of a better word, “Maybe you can tell me how your studies are going?”
“Oh!” Adrien’s expression immediately brightens, his smile near blinding, “Yes! I’ll tell you anything! Everything! After dessert! We can talk!”
Marinette can’t help but smile a little, his fumbling antics so unlike the Adrien she knows. He’s unmasked in front of her, the Chat Noir she has always known and loved, “Nino’s waving at you.”
She points over his shoulder and Adrien turns, catching a glimpse of Nino, Luka and about ten other guys all hooting and giving him questioning thumbs up. He smiles and gives them an enthusiastic nod in return before turning back to Marinette, “I’ll find you after dessert, okay?”
“Okay,” she agrees, watching him scamper off towards his friends. Alya is on her not a second later, her arm draped around her shoulders as they walk back to their seats.
“Well? How did it go?”
Marinette shrugs, “We danced and I asked him about his studies.”
Alya skids to a stop in her tracks, “That’s it?”
“Well, he said he was sorry too,” she says, walking out from under Alya’s arm as she continues walking, “And then the song ended and we’re going to talk about his classes after.”
“I swear to god, that idiot!” Alya stomps her foot and storms away towards her husband and the rest of the boys.
~
The cake is cut, the lights are low and the party is about to truly kick into high gear. The wedding band is replaced by one of Los Angeles' best DJs and Marinette stays out of the fray for the time being, taking a break from the action. She’s responding to commision requests when the song that had just been playing slowly dwindles and the crowd starts to scream.
“Speech!” a familiar voice cries and Marinette’s head yanks towards its source so quickly it cracks, “I'm gonna make a speech, everybody!”
Standing on the wedding platform with his tie nowhere to be found, Adrien raises his glass of champagne in one hand and holds the microphone to his lips in the other, “First of all, I just want to make a big shout out to the bride and groom for hosting an amazing party! Santé!”
The crowd cheers and drinks with him, buzzing seemingly with anticipation. An electric current tingles down the length of her neck as something tells her that everyone clearly knows something she doesn’t.
“And secondly, I want to thank my friends for helping me try and win back the love of my life. Hey, Marinette! I’m still free! Take a chance on me!”
Hoisted from the platform to the dinner tables, Adrien begins to strut as if on a catwalk, "To the most beautiful, talented woman in the world! I'm gonna do my very best to get you back, if you let me try. I wanna be the first in line to your heart."
The entire party cheers him on. Jagged Stone plays the opening chords to the wedding march on his electric guitar.
"I know I kind of screwed up,” he averts his eyes for a moment, his cheeks burning as her jaw clunks to the floor, “But if you change your mind and need me, just let me know. I’m going to be around more often and...well, put me to the test. I won’t disappoint you ever again. I’m all yours.”
He pauses in front of her, microphone still in hand, “We could go dancing or go for a walk or anything, really. Just as long as we do it together. You’ve got to know how much I want to win you back and...and when I close my eyes at night and dream, I’m always dreaming about you! You have to know that I...I can’t let go of you. Of us. Of what I left behind.”
“Please Marinette,” he reaches out to her just like he had earlier, his palm raised and at the ready. Marinette feels like dying and flying all at once.
Her heart pounding, Marinette takes a shaky breath and raises her hand only to hesitate, her fingers curling with indecision. Her mind is racing and fuzzy and between the wolf whistles and the intensity of Adrien’s gaze, Marinette finds herself feeling something in her chest she hasn’t felt in four long years.
“What do you say, M’Lady?” Adrien smiles with a hopeful shrug, “Will you take a chance on me?”
“I…” she trails off and somehow, her arm is moving on its own accord. Should she listen to her mind and turn him down? Or should she listen to her heart and find love once more in the arms of the man she’s loved for years and years and years.
Well, there’s only one choice here, isn’t there?
“Yes,” she whispers, a sweet benediction, “Yes!”
Clasping his hand, Adrien hauls her up with supernatural strength onto the table and tosses the microphone into the crowd. There’s a horrible feedback noise as Nino catches it against his tuxedo but nothing matters anymore except the smile on his face and the joy in her eyes as he wraps his arms around her waist and presses her flush to his body, “Why did I ever let you go?”
“Because you were an idiot,” Marinette responds and Adrien throws his head back and laughs. Here I go again, she thinks as she soaks in his contagious joy as the crowd screams around them. How could she resist him, especially after a confession like that?
“Can I kiss you?”
Marinette inhales sharply, “How could I resist?”
“Is that a yes?”
“Of course it is, you silly cat.”
Adrien bends down and presses his lips against hers just as the fireworks ignite in the background, bathing the glassed-in rooftop deck in hues of vibrant reds and golds. Marinette gasps as he runs his tongue along her bottom lip and she pulls him ever nearer, basking in his warmth as she grabs handfuls of his hair. She devours him longingly as he explores her body with his roaming fingertips and Marinette feels the dam of her desire breaking, overflowing with desperate, relentless love.
“I’m never going to let you go ever again," Adrien murmurs against her lips before diving back in and kissing her again, grabbing her by the hip. She feels delirious and suddenly they’re both smiling, giggling like school children because finally, finally ! They could be together! No matter what, four years or twenty, no span of time can truly keep apart true love.
READ PART 7 HERE!
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Text
CSI Rogers And Barnes: The Serious Cereal Serial Killer. Episode 17- At Last Pt. 1
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Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​ 
Summary: It’s Tony’s wedding weekend, and the usual fun and antics ensue. Then Steve and Katie take an extra evening in Manhattan, where Steve has a little surprise of his own planned.
Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT IN PART 2 (NO UNDER 18s and NSFW)
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
A/N:  So this is it. The FINAL CSI: Rogers and Barnes instalment. (Well, bar an Epilogue…) and it’s long so we split into 2. This has been one hell of a ride! It’s been a total playground for us, seeing how many stupid references and ridiculous actions we could fit in, and our first collaboration. We hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as we have. Myself and Storm love each and every one of you who’ve taken the time to read, like, comment and re-bog.
We love you 3000…
CSI R&B Masterlist
  //
Main Masterlist
Chapter Song: At Last- Etta James 
You smile, and then the spell was cast, and here we are in heaven for you are mine. At Last.
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Steve stretched out, rolling over and reached out for Katie only for his hand to meet a cold, empty mattress. He opened his eyes, confused for a second at the unfamiliar surroundings before he realised he was in his room at the Plaza…and it’s the morning of Tony’s wedding. His head was a little fuzzy due to the drinks last night which had gone on late and he could remember sitting in Tony’s suite drinking the bottle of scotch Sam had pilfered from the free bar at the rehearsal party. They had an impromptu party once the girls had left for Pepper and Tony’s and he remembered complaining loudly about why Sam and Bucky got to spend the night together when Katie wasn’t allowed to stya with him.
Jesus what had he turned into? A clingy bastard, that’s what.
He reached for his phone, checking the time which was 9 am. He dropped it back on the bedside table and tried to go back to sleep but he couldn’t. Not without her so he gave up. Firing Katie a quick ‘good morning beautiful’ message, he then kicked off the bed covers and shoved on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. Grabbing his kit he decided to head for the pool to make the most of the facilities.
The place was fairly busy considering the time on a Saturday morning, but there was a lane closed off for the ‘serious’ swimmers with no one in it so he made use of that for half an hour before he made his way into the changing rooms and showered. By the time he was drying off in the locker room, Katie had messaged back wishing him a ‘good morning handsome’ and complaining she had a bad head from a lot of champagne. He smiled, replied that he was sure she’d soon get over it when they start again, and then just as he’d done that another message came through. This one from Tony who had apparently ordered a fuck tonne of room service for a breakfast party.
Deciding that wasn’t such a bad idea he replied saying he was on his way, shoved his phone in his pocket, grabbed his kit bag and headed to the elevator. When he got to Tony’s suite he knocked on the door, the faint well natured chatter from inside hit his ears before the door swung open. Rhodey greeted him and Steve stepped in to see Tony led on a chaise in a hotel robe, eating grapes like a Roman Emperor. Steve snorted.
“Having Fun Tony?”
Tony grinned “Am I ever? I love all this. You know, I might get married once every 2 years.” He looked at Steve “You should try it, Rogers.”
Steve rolled his eyes, remembering full well about the ring that was tucked in the safe in his room.
From his spot over by the low coffee table, Bucky shot Steve a glance. He was certain the punk was gonna pop the question this weekend, why else would he have booked an extra night for them to stay in Manhattan on Sunday as well?  When Steve suggested it to Katie over breakfast a few weeks ago, he’d simply stated it was an opportunity for them to spend a bit of time together in the run up to Christmas, but if said girl didn’t return to Brooklyn on Monday with a ring on her finger then James Buchanan Barnes would chop of his left arm with a chainsaw.
At that point, Rhodey, ever the tactical, organised man asked Tony what the plan was for the day and Tony simply looked at him, and blinked.
“Aren’t you the best man?”
Bucky sighed “What a waste. I could have been a groomsman….ow!” he hissed, rubbing his side as Sam had elbowed him sharply in the ribs.
Rhodey completely ignored Bucky and looked at Tony “I am, yes, but you’re the Groom.” Tony waved him away “Yeah, yeah. We need to be dressed and in the room for 1. Ceremony is at 1:45, girls should arrive at half past and our stylist is arriving at midday. Easy.”
Steve glanced at his watch and Bucky smirked up at him “Hey, Stevie…only 3 hours till you see her punk…” From besides him, Sam snorted.
“You’re whipped man.”
Steve glared at them both, not even bothering to deny that was what he’d been checking and turned to Tony. “Is Greatmaster…Grandmaster, whatever, your wedding planner coming?” “Right, yeah that….asshole shall be showing up at some point.” Tony rolled his eyes “Fortunately I’m getting rid of him for the day.” He shoved another grape in his mouth and looked at Bruce “Remind me never to hire anyone you or the Bungalow recommend ever again.”
They boys settled down to eat, taking their time, enjoying a bit of banter about the stag do and the previous night’s rehearsal until an hour or so later Tony clapped his hands and stood up.
“Ok boys, suit up.”
Steve made his way back to his room and whilst in the elevator he got another message from Katie. This was a selfie of her in a robe with a glass of champagne having her hair put up. He smiled, responded telling her he couldn’t wait to see her, before the elevator door opened and he headed down to his room. Having already showered he knew he wasn’t in a huge rush so took his time trimming his beard, making sure the lines were crisp before he shrugged on his dress shirt, tying a Windsor in his deep, scarlet tie. Then he pulled on his suit pants, matching waistcoat and then jacket before placing his shiny black oxfords on and stood up. With a little product he styled his hair, making sure it was parted and slicked back as usual before taking a final glance in the mirror, smoothing down his jacket. He had to admit, the suits Tony (or most likely Pepper) had chosen for the Groom’s party were sharp. A black wool blend Tom Ford with a subtle red and gold check detail. Deciding he looked half decent he grabbed his wallet, phone, and room key. Satisfied he didn’t need anything else, he made his way back to Tony’s room.
Once more he gave a rap and the door opened inwards to reveal Grandmaster, smiling at him.
“Good afternoon Mr Rogers, you look dapper.” The man grinned, batting his eyelashes.
“Erm, thanks.” Steve replied in the absence of anything else to say.
“You’re late by the way.” Grandmaster continued.
“What?” Steve frowned, checking his watch to find he wasn’t late. He was never late…
“You’re the last one.” Grandmaster stated, as ways of explanation. “Everyone else is here already.”
“That’ doesn’t mean that I’m late.” Steve shook his head.
“No, I suppose it doesn’t,” Grandmaster replied, batting his eyelashes again.
“Whatever, can I come in?” Steve arched an eyebrow at him.
“Oh yeah, sure. Sorry. I got lost in your eyes for a minute there.”
Steve looked at the man, utterly lost for words. The guy was as nutty as a fruitcake. Steve stepped into the room, turning sideways as Grandmaster did the same smiling at him. He hastily moved into the living area of the suite where Rhodey was doing up Tony’s gold dress tie.
Grandmaster headed over to Bruce, brushing something off the man’s shoulder, smiling “You’ve always been my champion.”
Steve raised his eyebrows before he leaned over to whisper to Sam “How does Bruce know him again?”
“Some Ultimate Fighting online fan group.” Sam said “Bruce and Thor are very into it, apparently, along with one of Thor’s other good friends, Korg.”
“Korg?” Steve looked at Sam.
“Yeah, Thor knew him from his Uni days.” Sam said “They used to be quite political apparently. Tried to organise a protest against fascism but they didn’t print enough pamphlets so hardly anyone turned up.” Steve shook his head, the fact that didn’t surprise him in the slightest was ridiculous, but when it came to this lot, nothing did really, not anymore. It wasn’t long before Tony was ready, and the boys all stood round with one more scotch each before they were ushered, by a now very militant Grandmaster, down to the chapel where the wedding was going to take place in. Once there, Grandmaster headed off to check the function suite was ready for the ‘Post Wedding Meal’.  At his muttering of those words, Steve and Tony shared a little grin at the memory of a few weeks ago in Tony’s kitchen.
The Photographer arrived and set about arranging the boys for a few shots. Bucky tried to sneak into most of them, Tony at one point telling him to fuck off from his grooms party shots, which was the WORST thing he could possibly have done, as Bucky then made it his mission to infiltrate as many of them as he could by stealth. Steve had to admit, he couldn’t wait to see the final shots of Bucky popping up all over the place like some kind of nameless assassin.
As they were all having a shot taken just at the doors of the room, Grandmaster bustled back in. “OH. EMM. GEE.” He said, pronouncing each letter, drawing out the vowel sounds. “My crew sent me photos of the girls…you’re all going to DIE when you see them.” He grinned, slapping Steve’s back.
Ducking away from him, Steve checked his watch. 12:15…not long now. But before he could think about it, the first guests started to arrive having been shown the way by the concierge, and it was all to attention and the groomsman duties began.
Approximately 10 or so minutes later, he was just heading back to the door of the chapel having shown the assistant from the lab to her seat when he stopped dead as he saw Katie just outside in the foyer area, locked in an embrace with Tony. He was sure his heart stopped for a beat, fuck, she looked stunning. Her dress was the same colour as his tie, a deep red with a halter neck and a v neckline. It cinched in at the waist, with a fairly loose fitting skirt that had a slit up the side and it accentuated her figure perfectly. Her hair was pulled back into an elegant knot of curls at the back of her head, exposing her delicate neck and shoulders, and the star necklace he bought her twinkled as it sat just below the hollow of her throat. For some reason his mind strayed back to the time he had met her. He’d been invited to Howard’s for dinner a few months after arriving at the 101st and she’d answered the door, dressed in a pair of cut-off jeans, an oversized grey sweater which hung off one shoulder complete with a messy bun on top of her head and the prettiest eyes he had ever seen, eyes which were now popping from underneath a lid of smoky brown and gold eyeshadow. She’d flashed him a smile that day, invited him in, and if he was honest from that moment he’d been a fucking gonner for her. Why he had waited the best part of ten fucking years to even kiss her he would never understand. As he watched her eyes turned to his and she beamed at him. He gave her a smile back as she released Tony and made her way towards him, her leg slipping through the long slit in her dress as she walked giving him a flash of the peep-toe gold heels she was wearing, leaving him actively fighting the image of said heels being hooked around his ears…. Jesus Christ….
“Miss me Captain?” She grinned, her teeth bright white against the deep, blood red lip stain she was wearing.
“Always Doll.” He smiled as she stopped in front of him, blinking as she looked up at him.
“Good, because I missed you too.”
“You look amazing, honey.” Steve complimented her and she beamed up at him, scanning his suit.
“Thanks, you look pretty good yourself.” She said, her palms sliding up the lapels of his jacket.
Steve’s hand slipped round her back as he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, not wanting to smudge her lipstick. When his palm met bare skin he couldn’t help the groan that left his mouth as he realised her dress was backless. Katie looked at him having heard his involuntary noise, arching a perfectly plucked brow and smirked.
“Yes, no bra Stevie.”
“You’re killing me sweetheart.” Steve whined out but before she could reply, Steve was rather harshly slapped on the back.
“Put her down, Punk you’re needed.”  Bucky smirked as he turned to Katie, doing an over exaggerated double take as he looked her up and down “Huh, ok, so you look decent…” “Fuck you Barnes.” She shot back “And tell them they can wait a little, I haven’t seen my man since last night.” “Oh believe me I know. He’s been a whiney little bitch all morning…”
At that point a familiar voice cut him off. “James Buchanan Barnes, wash your mouth out, this is a wedding!”
Bucky grimaced as huge grins spread across both Katie and Steve’s faces. “Sorry Momma R” “Yes, I should think so.” Sarah looked at him sternly.
“Okay, I’m gonna…go…ummm…” Bucky hastily made his retreat, Sarah watching him with narrowed eyes before she turned to Katie, beaming as she gave her a hug.
“Star you look stunning.”
“Thanks Sarah and so do you, I love your dress.” Katie smiled, looking down at Sarah’s light gold knee length gown and Steve had to admit, it had been a while since he’d seen his ma done up. She was quite striking actually. “I love the neckline, and your hair.”
“Yes, thank you for that.” She gave Katie a look and she blushed a little, waving her away.
“Thank you for what?” Steve asked and Sarah looked at him, smiling.
“I had a little surprise this morning. Star arranged for someone to come and do my hair for me.”
Steve looked at Katie, a soft smile crossing his face. “You did?”
Katie shrugged “It’s no big deal.” “Well it was to me, so thank you.” Sarah smiled, before she turned to Steve. “My boy…don’t you look handsome?”
Steve blushed a little “Ma…” he sighed and Sarah chuckled
“Are you going to show me to my seat?” she asked and Steve smiled. He offered his mom his arm, shot Katie another smile and then walked into the room. As they reached the row she was to be seated on he stopped and reached up to brush his cheek. “You look just like your father.”
Steve didn’t miss the emotion in his mom’s eyes and he swallowed a little as she took her seat one down from the end of the row. “Have you…?”
“God, Ma. No, not yet. And I won’t be today either, its Tony’s wedding…”
Sarah opened her mouth to speak, most likely to pressure Steve to hurry up again but she was cut off by a voice from behind them.
“I believe my seat is just there…”
Steve frowned, he recognised that voice. He turned to see none other than Stan Lee smiling at him.
“Mr Lee?” he asked as the elderly man beamed at him “I didn’t know you were invited.” He extended his hand to shake Stan’s. “Good to see you again.”
“You too Captain. May I?”
Steve gave a nod and moved so Stan could drop into the seat on the end of the row, next to his mom.
“Good afternoon Ma’am, looks like I’m on the young’uns row.” Stan beamed at Sarah who burst out laughing. Steve shook his head with a snort and left them to it, making his way back out of the room to find the rest of his team had now arrived, Thor currently giving Katie a huge hug. He greeted Natasha who touched his arm gently before making a bee line for Bruce. He watched her go, smirking to himself, before he turned and raised an eyebrow at Clint. Clint merely shrugged and then introduced the Captain to his girlfriend, Laura. Thor then turned to him, shaking hands with Steve and moved slightly to reveal Gina was stood now talking to Katie.
“Greetings Captain, I bought a date.” Thor grinned.
“I see.” Steve said, raising his eyebrows, not bothering to correct Thor on what he had just said making it sound like he’d purchased Gina in some way...
“Yeah…” Gina turned to Steve. “The way he says it he sounds like he’s bought a bottle of wine.”
Thor shook his head “No, I don’t drink wine.”
At that Katie burst out laughing and turned away, shaking her head slightly.
“It’s a good thing he’s dreamy” Gina said, jerking her thumb at Thor.
Steve’s attention then was then distracted by a loud voice “Miss Stark, you look stunning…” He turned to see flash fucking fire dude, Johnny Storm approaching her and he gave a little groan, rolling his eyes.
“Captain…” Thor asked and Steve turned back to him “Where do we err sit?” Steve floundered for a moment, he really didn’t want to leave the fire bastard alone with his girl so he turned to Bucky who was watching him, a huge grin on his face.
“Buck can you…”
Bucky raised both palms, shaking his head, smirking smugly “Hey, I’m not part of the groomsman party…”
“Fuck you jerk.” Steve shot back and Bucky raised his eyebrows.
“Ok, first off, watch your language. This is a chapel, a place of worship and two…” at this point he dropped his voice and gave Steve a stern look. “Stop with the jealousy, she’s with you. No competition.”
“What is he even doing here?” Steve frowned, completely ignoring what Bucky had said, and the sergeant took a deep sigh. He was just about to inform Steve that he had no idea when a voice sounded from behind them.
“Johnny, there you are!”
Bucky and Steve turned to see a tall, dark haired man and a blonde woman approaching them. The blonde rolled her eyes “Of course he would be here, Hi Katie.”
Katie smiled “Hi Susan.”
“Well this is cute and all but…” Gina spoke again, “like seriously, Captain. Where do we sit?”
Steve groaned and took another glance at Johnny who was bouncing on the balls of his feet, grinning as Katie chatted to the 3 people in front of her. Knowing he couldn’t not show the team to their seats, he rolled his eyes and moved gently to loop his arm round Katie’s waist, dropping a kiss to her cheek.  A flicker of a smile crossed her pretty face and she turned to look at him, leaving him with absolutely no question she knew he was ‘marking his territory’ so to speak, before he grudgingly turned away to show the team to their seats.
“Smooth.” Bucky observed.
“Shut up.” Steve snapped back as he led his team down to a row half way down the room. This time, when he once more emerged from the room he was greeted by a whirl of gold and blue and he let out a low groan. Grandmaster.
Tony’s eccentric wedding planner started to clap his hands at Steve “The bride is here…get everyone seated, we’re behind schedule…”
Tony, who had been stood talking to someone grumbled to Steve “I wish he was behind schedule, preferably by a week so he wasn’t here.”
Steve gave a snort as Grandmaster turned to Katie and Pepper’s sister “Miss Stark, Miss Potts, the Bride may need your help…” At that he then looked at Steve, didn’t I tell you she looked stunning?” “You said gorgeous.” Bucky replied lazily.
“No.” Grandmaster frowned “Why would I use that word?”
Before Bucky could reply to the very strangely dressed man in front of him, Rhodey then appeared, smiling. “All set.” He smiled, clapping Tony on the shoulder “You ready?” Tony shook his head “Nope.”
Katie smiled, “You’ll be fine.” Steve watched as she stepped forward to give her brother a hug before she pulled back, her hands on his arms. “Mom and Dad would be so proud.”
Tony swallowed before he nodded “Ok, kiddo…don’t make me cry. Go help Pepper, tell her she’s already late.”
Katie rolled her eyes as Tony and Rhodey headed into the room, being ushered along by Grandmaster. She glanced at Steve and smiled. “See you in a minute.”
Steve smiled back, reaching out to pull her to him, dropping a kiss to her lips. “Don’t make it too long Doll.” She grinned and turned, giving him a full on view of the back of her dress, leaving his mouth a little dry and he made his way to his place on the front row, slightly down from where Tony and Rhodey were stood at the front of the aisle. On the way he shot his mom a smile as she beamed proudly at him, Bucky nodding as he sat next to her on the opposite side to Stan Lee. For some reason Steve was nervous. Why, he had no idea. He’d already seen his girl and she’d taken his breath away once already, but here he was, a ball of tense energy.  He could hear Tony and Rhodey talking, but he wasn’t focussing, that was until Tony’s voice grew loud and indignant
“That man is playing Galaga” Tony pointed to a man on the second row who was engrossed in his phone. “He thought I wouldn’t notice, but I did.”
“Man, shut up and relax…” Rhodey soothed him.
“I need a drink, something strong…is it bad I can’t feel my left arm.” Tony looked at Rhodey who was about to respond when the music started and everyone stood up. Steve turned his attention to the door which opened inwards and Katie and Pepper’s sister stepped into the room, walking down the aisle.
Bucky watched Steve as he took a deep breath, his eyes on his girl as she glided towards them, a stupid, dopey, gooey-eyed smile crossing the Captains face. “Gross” he mumbled, giving a soft yelp as Sarah slapped him round the back of the head. Fury, who was on the seat to Bucky’s left gave a little snigger. Bucky looked at him and frowned. “What are you doing here? That’s not even your seat, I’ve seen the seating plan.”
“I’m sure you have Barnes.” Fury replied lazily “But given that it’s a stupid ass plan designed by an even more stupid ass planner I’ve elected to ignore it.”
As Katie reached the front row, Bucky saw her shoot Steve a huge smile, which his punk best friend returned, and then there were gasps in the room. Bucky turned and saw Pepper in a gorgeous, yet so simple silk, straight A-line dress, which was embellished round the waist in red and gold embroidery. He glanced at Tony, and was amused to see that the normally composed scientist was literally floundering for air. Bucky then caught Sam’s eye who flashed him a wink which he returned, and Sarah nudged him.
“See, that’s what being in love does to you James.”
Bucky smiled at her as she squeezed his hand gently. Throughout the Ceremony Bucky saw Steve kept on looking at Katie who was on the same row but the opposite side of the aisle. She was watching Tony, her eyes glassy. At one point, Pepper’s sister took her hand and she turned to her, giving her a smile, before they both looked back, Katie turning to Steve. She shot him a huge grin which he returned, and Bucky smiled to himself. It might be gross, but it was cute. He liked seeing Steve happy.
When the ceremony was over, Tony was told he could kiss his bride.
“Well, I’m not one to back down from an honest challenge…” he muttered, stepping forward and sweeping her up in a huge kiss to loud cheers in the room. As music began to play again, the new Mr and Mrs Stark swept down the aisle followed by Rhodey and Pepper’s sister. Steve walked on behind smiling as he reached the end of his row.
“May I Miss Stark?” he offered Katie his arm and she grinned, linking hers into the crook of his elbow and he lay his hand over hers. As they walked towards the doors, he caught his mom’s eye as she dabbed her tears away with a tissue. She beamed at him, and he smiled back, before he turned to look at Katie, dropping a soft kiss to her temple.  
**** The meals were eaten, the toasts were done, and tears were shed through the afternoon. But once the reception was done, the drinks kept on flowing right through to the evening party. Steve was relaxed, feeling the buzz from a fair amount of wine, beer and shorts which had been consumed through the day. There was a loud tapping noise on the speakers and Steve glanced up from where he was sat at a table near the dance floor, Katie perched on his lap, as Tony and Pepper were welcomed to the floor for their first dance. The opening bars to Etta James ‘At Last’ last rang out around the room and Katie gave a snort.
“You can say that again.” She chuckled and Steve grinned, his arm curling round her as she watched her brother, her eyes glassy with tears. “You know…” she leaned down to Steve, this should really be our song.”
“Doll, just don’t…”
She shrugged and he gave a little huff of a laugh as she turned back to watch Tony slowly revolving Pepper around the floor, the camera flashing from the photographer. After the first verse the MC invited people to join them, as tradition and Katie looked at Steve. He nodded and she stood up, taking his hand and leading him to the dance floor.
Bucky watched them go, picking up his drink, smiling.
“Look, now there are two Stark ladies!” Thor grinned as the team watched Steve take Katie in a close hold, gracefully revolving them on the spot, the pair of them sharing a laugh at something.
“Not for much longer.” Bucky grinned.
“What do you mean?” Thor frowned,
Besides Bucky Clint gave a snort as the sergeant looked at Thor blinking “You know, I don’t get it. Like, you’re super clever sometimes and others…”
Thor shrugged and then Bucky turned his attention over the table to see Scott Lang, their assistant looking at Natasha.
“Are you gonna eat that peanut butter macaroon or…” Scott began, but Natasha wasn’t listening, she was too busy caressing Bruce’s palm as it lay on the table in front of her so Scott reached out and grabbed it, shoving it in his mouth. On the dancefloor, Steve effortlessly moved Katie around the floor to the song as it played. She tucked her head under his chin and he breathed her in, his hand splaying on her bare back, simply relishing the fact she was so close. He didn’t speak a word, simply allowed the music and being with her to sweep him away, and he was rather unceremoniously jolted back to reality when loud applause sounded as the song finished. The MC congratulated Tony and Pepper once more, Katie turned to give her brother a huge hug, before the man on the mic wished everyone a Merry Christmas and the sounds of Wham, ‘Last Christmas’ rang out, cheers hitting Steve’s ears as suddenly the dance floor filled up.
Almost immediately, Bucky was in front of him, throwing what looked like torn up place cards into the air, holding his arms out “Merry Christmas and Happy 2021!”
Sam, who was besides Bucky looked at him “Its 2020 next year, idiot.”
Steve dusted the paper off his shoulders, picking pieces out of Katie’s hair as she looked at Bucky, frowning. Bucky turned to Sam and shrugged “Yeah I know but I don’t like 2020. Sounds like a shit year to me…although…” he spun to Steve grinning and Steve took a deep breath and shot him a glare, which he totally ignored “It could be a good one eh Stevie?”
“What is he talking about?” Katie looked at Steve.
“God knows, he’s drunk.” Steve shrugged as Bucky made a clicking noise as he winked, pointing at both of them. Thankfully, Sam dragged him away, Katie and Steve both watched them go before Katie turned back around. Smiling, Steve took her back in a hold that was a little lighter this time as the music was more upbeat and they began to dance together once more.
“Hmmm. Last Christmas…” Katie pondered and Steve let out a groan.
“Can we…” he took a deep breath, dropping his head “Can we just not? Please Doll. I’m not very proud of myself when I think about it.” Katie chuckled and her hands came to rest on his shoulders as he moved them in a little livelier dance. “Ok, sorry. But, it worked out in the end.”
“It did. But I caused you a lot of pain along the way.” He sighed, “Too much.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t hang around and give you chance to explain or try and work it out.” Katie looked up at him. “I just ran away.
“I didn’t exactly try and stop you did I?” Steve looked at her.
“No, you didn’t Captain Righteous.” Katie conceded and Steve chuckled as she shook her head “God I was so mad at you.”
“I was mad at myself Sweetheart.” “But if I’m honest, I was more upset that we’d blown our chance.” Steve took a deep breath. “I really thought we had. Well, that I had…”
“Stevie?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t you ever leave me again, please.” She said, almost whispered. Steve frowned and looked at her, her face was loaded with emotion and beneath those sparkling green emerald eyes he could see a flicker of fear.
“Hey…” he reached for her hand and raised it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her wrist “Where’s this coming from baby girl?”
Katie sniffed, “Honestly? I don’t know. It’s just, everything is so perfect. It sometimes feels a little too good to be true. And I’m scared that one day I’m gonna wake up and I’ll still be in DC…or that you might have another car crash…or a case getting nasty and you…”
She was losing herself in her head again, something he’d seen her do countless times so he quickly cut her off. “Look at me.” He cupped her face in both his hands “I’m not going anywhere Doll.”
“Promise?”
Steve opened his mouth to reply, but he knew full well that words wouldn’t do this moment justice. Instead he dipped his face to hers, catching her mouth in a deep kiss, not caring who the fuck was watching. He poured every single piece of emotion he was feeling into that kiss, desperate for her to understand that he had no intention of leaving her ever again and she must have gotten the message as he felt her relax into his hold, kissing him back, her hands softly gripping at the material of his jacket.
“Erm, stop eating his face Kiddo, this is my wedding.” Tony interrupted “It’s supposed to be about me….and Pepper” he added.
Steve could feel his cheeks growing warm as Katie pulled away from him with a groan and a roll of her eyes as she turned to face Tony.
“How about you go eat your wife’s face and leave us the fuck alone Tones?”
“Rude much?” He snorted “I raised you better than that.”
“You didn’t raise me at all, Tony!” Katie scoffed.
“Ok, it was a figure of…” he trailed off, frowning at something over her shoulder. “What the hell is Thor doing?”
Steve and Katie turned to see Thor was stood his nose almost touching one of the branches of the lit up Christmas Trees round the edge of the room.
“Oh, he was rambling on over dinner about Norwegian Spruce trees.” Katie shrugged, “Maybe he’s trying to figure out if that is one or not.”
“He was rambling about what?” Tony looked at her.
“It’s a type of tree which…” Steve began but Tony cut him off.
“You know what, on second thoughts I’m not really interested.” Steve sighed and looked at Katie who rolled her eyes as Tony continued “By the way, how do you like the décor?”
Steve watched Katie look around and knew what she’s was going to say, because she loved this time of year, turning into one huge, great child over the entire period of December. And true to form, when she opened her mouth to reply, she was grinning ear to ear.
“I gotta say, he might be a pain in the ass but Grandmaster got this right. I love it.” She smiled.
“Yeah, me too.” Tony agreed. “It’s like Christmas but with more me.” Steve let out a snort and Tony clapped his shoulder “Remind me to give you his card.” And with that he left, Steve shooting daggers at him. Thankfully, Katie was too engrossed in what Thor was doing to hear Tony offering Steve the services of a wedding planner. He saw her frown and his attention then flicked to the tall blonde, frowning.
“What is he offering my Ma?”
“Condoms.” A voice shot back, and Steve wheeled round to glare at Bucky who had appeared out of nowhere.
“For fucks sake Buck!” he growled as Katie spluttered out a laugh.  
“Just kidding.” Bucky grinned, “They’re sweets. He handed them out before, you two were too busy dancing.”
“Sweets?” Katie arched an eyebrow.
“Yeah, he said he got em off a suspect…no, not a suspect, a suspects brief, yeah…”
“Bucky, are you ok?” Katie asked him and Steve looked at her, then to Bucky who did look a little, what was the word, spaced?
“Yeah, I feel…great!” He replied with a giggle.
Katie looked at him again before she let out a small “oh.” And groaned a little “Oh God.”
“What is it?” Steve asked, but she ignored him and continued talking to Bucky.
“How many of those sweets Thor has did you eat?”
“3 maybe 4…I dunno…” Bucky giggled, “I want more though.”
At that point, the man in questioned arrived. “Greetings!” Thor beamed at Katie and Steve, holding out a little foil packet “Sweet?”
“Thor, the guy who gave you those, was he wearing suspenders?” Katie asked and Steve frowned.
“Yes, I believe he was, along with a very bright lime green shirt. Nice chap.” Thor mused “He used many Post Its”
At that Steve looked at Katie, giving a little groan as he suddenly understood “Weiss?”
Katie nodded “They were a favourite little party treat of his.”
Steve snatched the bag from Thor and sniffed inside, pulling back immediately, the smell of cannabis sticking in his nostrils. “Jesus how can you not smell that?”
“Wait…” Bucky said, taking a sniff and looking at Steve “These have weed in them? The things I ate?”
Katie took a sniff and wrinkled her nose “Yup, and they’re stronger than I remember.”
“Than you remember? You used to do this?” Steve looked at her and she shrugged.
“Hey, I was younger and dumber…”
“Wait, so I’m high right now?” Bucky pressed and Katie grinned.
“Yep, they’ll wear off in a while. For the time being you’ll just feel very drunk and kinda floppy.”
“Floppy?” Steve frowned and Katie nodded.
“Yeah, like nothing matters, everything is cool. They used to make me a little frisky actually, we once took them before we…” she paled and Steve looked at her, swallowing before he turned to Thor.
“Thor, you didn’t give one of these to my ma did you?” Steve asked.
“Of course, not, no.” Thor shook his head.
“Oh thank fuck” Steve breathed out.
“I gave her two.” Thor concluded. At that Bucky’s giggles suddenly turned into loud laughter as he bent over, clutching at Thor’s arm.
“For fucks sake Thor, you drugged my mom!” Steve exploded as Bucky’s laughter grew louder.
“Sarah’s gonna be hiiiiigh.”
“Where is she?” Steve demanded, ignoring Bucky.
They scanned the room, searching for her only to see her at the other side of the dancefloor with flash fire dude, who was twirling her round to the music.
“Flame on!” She whooped, her hands up in the air as Johnny grinned.
“It’s catchy right?”
With a groan Steve strode over towards them. “Ma? What are you doing? You Ok?”
Sarah grinned at him, her eyes slightly glazed “Hey Son I’m good…just dancing with this young man.” She said, looking at Johnny then back to Steve “He says he’s called the human torch but us girls can call him torch”
Steve glared at Storm as Katie reached his side “The human torch?” he deadpanned “Seriously?”
“Hey,I didn’t coin it, it was the press that did that when we put out that warehouse fire. So called because my uniform caught fire on the way out…thanks to my sister though, I escaped with nothing more than a slight smoulder.” Steve felt Katie shaking besides him and could tell she was holding back laughter. Storm flashed her a wink and Steve grit his teeth before he felt his mom slap his shoulder.
“Don’t you be giving him that look Steven Grant! This brave man is a firefighter…” at that she turned back to Johnny, sniggering. “Now, where is your hose young man?”
“Jesus Christ…” Steve groaned, looking away in disgust.
Johnny opened his mouth to speak but Katie cut him off “Err no. Don’t.”
He shrugged and then looked at Sarah who was laughing so hard she was almost bent double.
“Ok, that’s enough Ma.” Steve decided to do what he did best, take control of the situation. “ I think you need to sit down.”
“Awww, don’t be such a buzz kill Steven.”
“It ain’t the buzz I want to kill…” Steve said, his eyes locking onto Johnny’s as he gave him another filthy glare.
After a little more cajoling they manage to get Sarah to agree to sit down. Steve helped her to her seat whilst she was rambling on about not wanting to be sat with Mr Lee again because he spent all dinner complaining about the booze not being strong enough. As they reached her table Sarah suddenly stopped.
“Actually…I think I need…yeah I need to go to my room.” She looked at Steve and Katie gave a snort.
“Hey, Steve, your ma’s crashing.”
Steve shot her a look. “This is not funny.”
Before she could respond Sam appeared and looked between the two of them, then to Sarah as he raised an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on his handsome face.
“Everything OK?” he asked.
“Yeah, she had one of Thor’s magic sweets.” Katie grinned “You wanna watch Buck, he’s had 4.”
Sam snorted, “Yeah I noticed.”
“I’m hungry.” Sarah suddenly said and Steve let out a sigh.
“Sam, can you help me get her to her room. Doll, you keep an eye on Bucky.” “I want a cheeseburger.” Sarah pointed at Steve and he looked at her.
“Ma, you’ve never eaten a cheeseburger in your life.”
“Shows much you know. A McDonalds on a Friday is my secret treat…although now I told you it’s not a secret.” She raised her finger to her lips “Sshhhh you can’t tell anyone.”
Steve rolled his eyes and started leading his ma to the door, Sam following.
“Bye Sarah!” Johnny called. “Pleasure meeting you!”
“Bye hottie!” she giggled, waving her hand at him as Sam laughed. She turned to Steve, spluttering out a laugh. ”Ha, hottie, see what I did there?”
“Yes.” Steve shook his head as he led her from the room. “Very good, Ma.”
Between Steve and Sam it was fairly easy to get Sarah to her room. Once he’d made sure she was ok and had some water he closed the door and they made their way back to the main room, Steve throwing the sweets in the trash as they passed a can on the way.
“Fucking Weiss.” He grumbled to himself as Sam gave a little chuckle.
When they arrived back in the room, it was clear a fair few of his team had managed to have one of those damned sweets before he’d confiscated them. Gina, Nat and Clint were dancing, all 3 of them with odd looks and dopey grins on their faces. Katie was on the floor with Pepper and Bucky, Bucky swaying on the spot. As Steve watched Sam headed over and winked at Katie, steering Bucky away. Steve felt someone besides him and he turned to see Bruce.
“How’s the team look to you Bruce?” he asked, a smile on his face as Bruce snorted.
“Right now we’re not a team, we’re a time bomb.”
Steve had to concede he was right, as at that moment Clint started miming as if he was shooting a bow, whereas Nat looked like she was throwing knives. Gina on the other hand was stood doing the robot.
“I need a drink.” Steve concluded.
“Good idea.” Bruce agreed.
They head to the bar where Tony was leaning against it, his tie long discarded, lecturing Peter Parker. Steve, taking lead from Tony, loosened his tie and popped the top button on his shirt before he ordered himself and Bruce a bourbon each, offering one to Tony who nodded, and then Peter who asked politely for a beer instead. The 4 men engaged in conversation, and a fair few drinks as Steve was happy to remain where he was, out of the way, every so often glancing around. It was about an hour later when he saw Clint and Natasha slowly walking towards a table, dropping down into a seat, Gina following. Bucky walked over to the bar with Sam shaking his head.
“Feeling ok Pal?” Steve grinned and Bucky blinked, rubbing his eyes.
“What the fuck just happened? It was like someone took over my brain…” he looked at them.
“I think the magic wore off.” Bruce mumbled as Steve gave a snort. “
“God, I really need food.” Buck looked around.
Steve laughed and clapped Bucky on the shoulder, ordering another round of drinks.
CONTINUED IN PART 2....
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purplesurveys · 3 years
Text
1161
 survey by pichu4850
What color do you think of when I say...
Anger? Red, or a really bright red-orange.
Confusion? Gray.
Inspiration? Sky blue. Both word and color give off calming vibes to me.
Shy? Something like an off-white shade, and maybe even pastel pink.
Agony? Olive green was the first color to come to mind, though I have no idea why.
Sleep? Dark blue, like the night sky.
Chipper? Yellow.
Beautiful? Red, the way roses are.
Morning? Light blue or yellow.
Would you rather be named...
Andrea or Aimee? Andrea.
Emily or Erica? Emily. I know an Erycka that I’m not too fond of, so this is an easy pass.
Kelsey or Casey? Casey, though I’d mix up my name a bit and have it be pronounced and spelled as Cassie.
Madeleine or Marina? Eh, not really a fan of either but I’d mos likely go for Madeleine.
Alec or Aaron? Alec.
Ryan or Ross? Not a fan of both names as well though I’d probably go with Ryan, but only as a feminine name.
Dylan or Daniel? Dylan.
Jack or Jordan? I guess Jack, if I have to pick.
Gabriel or Gavin? Gabriel.
How often do you...
Brush your teeth? Once or twice a day.
Eat breakfast? Twice a week, during weekends; though sometimes I’ll end up skipping it for an entire week altogether.
Check your email? I literally never check my personal email anymore after having gotten hired, but I know I should quit that habit and check it every once in a while just in case an intriguing opportunity might come my way. My work email is a different story; I have to use it everyday. I open my emails even during weekends so that when I report to my shift on Monday, my Gmail won’t look as clogged.
Go to the mall? When quarantine protocols loosened up a bit I used to go either on Saturdays or Sundays for some me time as well as some much-needed time away from the house, for the sake of my mental health and sanity. But now that we’re going through another surge in cases, no one’s allowed to go out again and malls are back to just keeping the essential stores open.
Go to the beach? A few times a year, at least before the pandemic. I haven’t been to the beach since 2019.
Play card games? Only happens once in a blue moon, when I get together with friends and someone happens to bring a deck of cards. This isn’t a usual occurrence with any of my friend groups, though.
Have at least 20 minute phone calls? Never. I have 20-minute Google Meet and Zoom calls instead.
Paint your nails? They are never painted.
Wish you were happier? Every now and then.
Did you ever want to be...
A veterinarian? Yes, when I was younger. I once stumbled upon an interview with a horse vet on one of my kid’s almanacs and thought what they did was so cool.
An astronaut? Yup, definitely became a big obsession of mine at one point in my childhood. I still think it would be cool to go to outer space and should the opportunity ever become accessible in my lifetime, I wouldn’t want to miss out on it.
An artist? Not really. I knew from the get go I wasn’t meant to be one.
A school teacher? I would guess yes, but I definitely wasn’t as interested in teaching compared to being an astronaut or like a firefighter.
A housewife? Lmfao yeah. This was the answer I would give when I was like 8 up until I was probably 10 and I knew it stressed out my Asian mother big time. My grandpa got a kick out of it, though.
A firefighter? Yes. This was up there with astronaut.
A princess? Not so much.
A lawyer? I definitely considered law for a brief period, but it was already during my latter college years. There wasn’t enough time to mull over it. But hearing all the law school horror stories from my friends kind of made me relieved I didn’t push through with it; I knew I wasn’t passionate enough about law to want to go through all the hardships that come with law school, so I was fine letting that dream go, and still am.
A doctor? This was never a dream of mine.
Would you consider yourself...
Materialistic? Yes.
Pessimistic? It comes out occasionally, but I don’t think it’s a main trait of mine that people would generally see me as.
Avoidant? Not so much. I can be shy and anxious sometimes but I get over it at some point.
Sarcastic? Only occasionally. I wouldn’t say I speak the language.
Talkative? Definitely not. I hate being in the spotlight, and whenever it’s my turn to share a story or talk in a group I usually have the tendency to rush through it or make it as short as possible so as to return the spotlight on someone else. I’ve always been more of a listener.
Strange? Maybe not strange but weird to an extent?
Intelligent? I guess in some ways.
Lucky? In some ways I am, but I also got handed the short end of the stick in other contexts.
In the next twenty-four hours, will you...
Talk to someone you care about? Probably. I talk to at least one friend a day.
Go to work? Yep, I’ll finally be going back to work since the Holy Week break is over. My workaholic self felt kinda unsettled with all the free time, so I’m actually kinda relieved.
Go to school? I’m not in school anymore.
Be in a different city? Nope, it’ll be working from home for me like usual. We were initially allowed to book visits to the office if we really needed to go there to pack some goodies and stuff, but because of re-heightened Covid protocols our admin has once again prohibited anyone to go there for the meantime.
Read a book? I highly doubt it. I haven’t read any in months.
Watch a movie? Nope. It’ll be a Monday coming from a 4-day break, so it will be incredibly busy tomorrow as there would be a lot to catch up on.
Go to a dentist/orthodontist appointment? No, I won’t.
Do your laundry? My parents probably will seeing as our hamper was nearly full the last time I checked.
True or False: Family...
I have two brothers or more. I only have one brother.
My mom lives with me. This is technically true but isn’t phrased right in my case. I’m currently living with my parents.
My grandparent(s) live with me. No, we moved out of our duplex (where I did use to live with my grandparents) well over a decade ago.
I have half-siblings. Don’t have any.
I am the oldest in my family. Eldest child, that is.
I am an only child. I have two other siblings.
I have 15 cousins I can name off the top of my head. Easily. My first cousins are less than 15 in total, but I know a good number of my second and third cousins as well so this is a cakewalk.
The nearest Aunt or Uncle lives less than an hour away from me. The aforementioned duplex we moved out of is just at the next village; we didn’t move too far so that we can continue visiting them.
True or False: Food...
I am allergic to chocolate. I’m not, fortunately. I’m not crazy about chocolate but I’d be pretty miserable if I could never have it either.
I like vegetables more than fruit. Infinitely more, hahaha. I hate fruits.
I have tried pizza dipped in ranch sauce. Ranch isn’t a very common dressing where I’m from, so it’s not usually offered in restaurants. Given the chance, though, I’d definitely try my pizza with ranch at least once.
I've never eaten kiwi fruit. True, but then again I’ve never eaten most fruits and don’t plan to.
I love junk food.
I love to try new food.
Ketchup goes best with fries (chips). I don’t like ketchup and barely put it on anything.
I like fried rice. I haven’t met an Asian who doesn’t like fried rice.
I can prepare dinner for myself (using a stove or oven).
I hate sushi.
How many...
Pairs of shoes do you have? A little over 10, maybe? I don’t feel like counting in my head rn.
Songs do you have on your music player? I don’t have a music player anymore.
Hours of sleep did you get last night? Around 4.
Times have you had alcohol? Like, ever since I started drinking when I was 18? I never kept track lmao but if I would guess, maybe around 50-60 times? I’m not a regular drinker; I drink probably once or twice a month at most.
Books have you read/started reading in the past month? None.
Windows in your house/apartment are open? I know my parents and sister have their windows open at the moment, so that’s 2. Mine are usually open as well, but I’ve turned on my aircon so I’ve closed them for the night.
Pets do you have? 2.
Kids do you have/want to have? I’d cut it off a a maximum of 3 kids, but having just 1 would already be so nice.
Minutes does it take to get from your home to school or work? I work from home, but in the two times I went to the actual office it took anywhere between 45 minutes to an hour.
Have you ever...
Spilled a cup of grape juice on the carpet? I don’t think I’ve ever even encountered grape juice in my entire life.
Played spin the bottle? I don’t think I’ve ever played this. My friends and I usually resort to truth or dare.
Played Twister? Yes, and there are many fond memories that come with it as well. So when I was 7 years old I befriended Katreen, and her mom and mine hit it off instantly so they started this arrangement where every Friday, her mom picked me and my sister up from school along with Katreen and her sisters, and we’d stay for several hours at their place until my mom would pick us up. Her mom was an amazing host and every week we’d play Twister, watch Pokemon, read books together, etc; anything to keep us comfortable and entertained.
Been caught doing something you weren't supposed to be doing? It’s bound to happen every now and then.
Walked out of a movie because it was horrible? I’ve gotten this feeling a few times but I always stayed in my seat because I paid for the damn ticket.
Given the finger to someone on the street? Oh most definitely, as well as drivers passing by. And it’s always been towards men that are being disgusting pigs.
Been so sad/angry that you started laughing? Sure.
Been in a wedding? Yes, but I only got invited as a kid since I was usually picked to be one of the flower girls. I haven’t been to a family wedding since 2007.
Been in a situation where you almost died? Probably not died but almost substantially injured, sure.
Misc...
Are you stressing out about anything right now? Just worried about the deluge of tasks that will inevitably come at me tomorrow but knowing how easygoing my bosses are, I know I’ll be able to ease up soon enough.
Do you think before acting or act before thinking? I used to be the latter but I now see the importance of first considering possible consequences of or how others would be affected by my actions.
Do you act upon your emotions and instinct, or logic and reasoning? Again, I used to be one of these, this time the former. Now that I’m at a much more stable and peaceful place in my life I try not to let my emotions get the best of me.
What are some personality traits you find appealing in a potential partner? I had a number of negative experiences in my last relationship so forgive me for scraping the bottom of the barrel when it comes to my expectations lmaaaao – I’d love for someone to be sensitive to my needs and feelings, and for them to be able to own up to their mistakes or hurtful habits and know how to apologize and be open to changing if it’s for their self-improvement.
How have you changed as a person in the last 5 years? I tolerate less bullshit now. I think I’ve also grown to be happier and a lot more stable, emotionally. I also have a better sense of what I want out of life and where I want to be, and I’ve also learned to be more sociable and open up to people.
If you could do anything you wanted right this moment, what would it be? Order sushi :(
Is there anyone you can totally relax and be yourself around? Yes, that’s what my friends are for. If I can’t feel comfortable around my friends, I’d view that as a problem.
Did you ever wanted to say something to someone, didn't, and regretted it? No.
Are you scared about the future? I’m scared of the idea of not meeting some of my goals, like having a family; but I’m also excited about what the future could bring me.
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 years
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Unconventional
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Summary: The reader is more than unhappy when her free thinking father arranges her to be wed to an Alpha in exchange for sanctuary for their large pack. Her new Alpha though is everything she didn’t expect and she soon discovers, her new husband needs her help...
Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader
Square: Marriage of Convenience
Word Count: 13,500ish
Warnings: Mature (language, arranged marriage, mild violence/referenced past violence)
A/N: Written for @spnabobingo . This one is a bit different for me in terms of ABO. For this universe, Omegas have some rights limited and are treated like objects by some Alphas (although there are some Omegas that are raised with more rights)...
“Dad, I-” you tried one last time, your father scowling at you in the room that’d been prepared for you. “Please don’t do this.”
“He is a well-off Alpha. His family has much influence in the government. His family will take care of ours for many years to come in exchange for this,” he said.
“I haven’t even met the guy and you’re sending me off to be married to him. What is wrong with you? Where’s the man that raised me no different because I was Omega, that told me he was proud of me for being smart and strong and independent? After all these years, I’m suddenly a baby making machine for some rich guy?” you snapped.
“The family will provide sanctuary for ours, Y/N. Our entire pack will have rights. You are helping how many people?” he said. You shut your eyes and fisted your hands in the bottom of your dress. “Perhaps the boy will be kind.”
“Why was I chosen? They are older Omegas, more experienced ones,” you said.
“I don’t know. They chose you though. There is no calling this off, Y/N,” he said.
“You never even asked me,” you said.
“Because I know you eventually would have said yes. It’s easier and faster to let you be angry with me then to let you ultimately decided that you’re saving our pack. There are many pups ready to be born soon. They’ll never know anything different than independence. You will have done that. I hope you hold onto that,” he said.
“Today’s the last day I’ll ever see you, isn’t it,” you said.
“I doubt your Alpha will allow contact. Be a good Omega, Y/N. But don’t lose yourself,” he said.
“Good. Yeah right.”
You were doing your best not to reach behind you and rip the collar off your neck. As long as it was there at least your new Alpha hadn’t claimed you yet.
You sighed as you heard a knock at the door. You walked with your father outside and down a hall, entering a room with only a few people. There was a man and woman off to the side, a tall younger man close by. She was Omega, the men Alphas. The young one gave off a surprised scent. It was possibly his first marriage ceremony he’d witnessed. In your pack they’d always been happy things, never so clinical like this was.
You smelled leather and wood and coffee and vanilla in the air, something sweetly dark and light all at once. It was incredibly pleasant and you’d have enjoyed it on a normal day. Your head turned to find a rigid Alpha standing at the altar. He was tall, not as tall as the other young Alpa, but he was strong too, hair a pretty brown color. You took a deep breath and stepped up beside him, turning your head. He glanced your direction, a handsome and hardset face meeting yours.
Some Alphas didn’t want eye contact, didn’t allow it your father had taught you. You simply stared back at him, making sure he knew he wasn’t getting some compliant little thing.
His green eyes turned away, facing forward again.
“Shall we begin?” asked the man to the side. Your new Alpha nodded and you did the same.
At least he didn’t talk a lot.
You sat in silence in the passenger seat of a vehicle, your new Alpha, Dean Winchester, driving for quite a while. The ceremony was completed quickly and you were officially claimed in the books. Dean would perform the actual claiming when you arrived at his home as was tradition. You tried not to think about that, instead enjoying the beautiful drive to wherever it was he lived. It was far out, no neighbors surely. You weren’t sure what he did for a living. It was possible he had no job at all if his family was really that wealthy to provide sanctuary for your large pack.
You drove through the last of some woods, an open field appearing with a large house, a mansion really, settled in the middle. He turned down a road and went through a gate, driving along a short driveway until he parked in front of a large garage and slid out of his seat. You swallowed and got out, Dean not saying anything as he walked towards the front door. You followed after, Dean not seeming to acknowledge you were there all that much.
Great. He was one of those. Well, you’d take being ignored over the alternative you supposed.
You stepped inside and the front door shut behind you, your head turning to spot him walk in front of you.
“Please take off your shoes. We don’t wear them in the house,” he said.
“Yes. Alpha,” you said, more than a little bitter. Dean only stared though as he watched you kick them off, instead ignoring the tone in your voice. He blinked a moment and headed down the main hall. You followed him again, finding a large open kitchen and family room in the back of the house.
There were three people chatting in the kitchen, all of them going quiet when Dean walked in. They hopped up from their seats and walked over in front of the island, smiles on their faces.
“This is Abby. She is the chef for the house. She will make anything you ask of her or make sure there is any food you would like here,” said Dean when he stood behind her, walking behind a man now, all three of them smelling like Betas to you. “This is Peter. He ensures the home stays clean and grounds are kept up. If you make a mess, you are expected to clean up after yourself though. Finally, this is Sally. She assists Peter and Abby and myself with odds and ends. If you need something, I would reach out to her. The staff arrive typically around eight am and leave around six. They do not work on the weekend. Do you understand?” he asked. You nodded, Dean walking past them and back towards the main hall, the three Betas raising eyebrows.
You followed Dean as he showed you the rooms of the house and eventually upstairs, Dean pushing open a door to a large bedroom.
“You may use this room for whatever you wish,” he said, walking down a long hallway and to the end, opening a pair of double doors. “This is my room.”
“Yes Alpha,” you said. You walked inside, Dean walking around you, a finger tracing over your collar.
“Do you like your collar?” he asked.
“I guess,” you said. He nodded.
“Claimed Omegas are to be kept collared until they are properly claimed,” he said.
“Is that a question?” you asked. He almost smiled, a quick twitch of his lip giving him away.
“When the staff leave everyday, you are permitted to not wear it unless there are guests over,” he said. You raised an eyebrow, Dean staring at you. “If it’s only the two of us, I believe it’ll be fine to go without.”
“You don’t want to show off your mark to others?” you asked.
“What mark? I’m not going to claim you Omega,” he said.
“What?”
“We were married so your large pack could be given sanctuary and I could be given an Omega. As far as I’m concerned, we both fulfilled the roles we were given,” he said.
“You’re my Alpha though,” you said.
“On the books. I don’t agree with this scenario. The Betas here are used to my candor. This is a safe place for you. Live your life as you lived it before. If you go out, you will wear your collar for safety and appearance reasons but that room down the hall is yours. I will never enter it without permission,” he said. “I ask you give me the same courtesy.”
“Alright,” you said. “I...I suppose I’m confused is all.”
“My parents felt I needed an Omega. I will be thirty next year and it didn’t look good. You are in your twenties with a large pack. I felt this would be an okay arrangement,” he said.
“You picked me because I have a large pack?” you asked.
“Yes. Well my father did but I agreed. You are also...your father called you a troublemaker. I liked that. One trouble maker to another,” he said.
“You won’t…” you said.
“I will never so much as touch you without permission. The best medical resources are available to assist you through heats and if you ever desire pups of your own, we can work through that. For now, as you are still quite stressed, I say we have a quiet rest of the evening. I will ask Abby to prepare something and then send the staff home early if that is okay,” he said.
“Okay,” you said. “Okay.”
You took off your collar at the kitchen island, Dean sitting in a pair of sweatpants on the counter, eating a bowl of mac and cheese. You carefully watched him as you ate slowly, Dean blinking at you a few times.
“You are allowed to wear what you want, Y/N. Sally will help you get any clothes you wish,” he said. “You may change out of that dress at any time. I have no real rules for you here.”
“This...this isn’t how I thought my wedding night would go,” you said.
“Mine either,” he said, sipping on his beer.
“You can never have an Omega now you know,” you said.
“I would take a friend over an Omega,” he said, giving you a nod. “Hopefully we can be friends. Or else the next few decades are going to be very long.”
“I suppose we could try that. As long as you keep your word,” you said.
“You don’t have to worry about that.”
The Next Day
You scratched your neck as you walked into the kitchen, yawning and going to the fridge. You pulled out some eggs, screaming when Abby was suddenly right there.
“Sorry, Omega Y/N. I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said.
“No it was my fault,” you said, setting the eggs down on the counter.
“Would you like me to make you breakfast?” she asked. “Dean has already eaten.”
“I can make it,” you said.
“May I please make you breakfast? Dean often eats cereal and I never get to make-“
“If you really want to. I was just going to make scrambled eggs,” you said. She quickly took the eggs and started rummaging around the kitchen while you got out of the way.
You found a seat at the counter, watching her cook as Peter and Sally came in, both uttering good mornings to you.
“How are you settling in, Omega Y/N?” asked Sally. “Do you need anything?”
“Okay. Maybe some clothes. I didn’t bring much with me,” you said.
“We can go out this afternoon. Although you would probably do best to remember your collar in public,” she said. You shot a hand to your neck, staring at them when another door opened and a greasy looking Dean entered the kitchen.
“Pete, where’d you put the…” he trailed off, looking at you. “Really? The literal one and only rule I had.”
“Can we please stop calling her Omega Y/N. It’s so old fashioned,” said Abby as she rolled her eyes.
“I don’t really think the poor girl should have to wear the collar at home, do you, Dean?” asked Peter.
“I’m sorry. I can…” you said as you stood up, heading for the hall.
“Hey,” said Dean, freezing you in your tracks. “Y/N.”
You turned around, finding a softer face then you anticipated.
“These three you can trust. I only said what I did about the collar so you get used to wearing it in case guests are here. These guys know what’s actually going on. Maybe if the collar is too much we all just make sure we know when other people are around,” he said.
“Does this mean we can not be so formal?” asked Peter.
“Yes, Pete. We can not be so formal in front of Y/N,” said Dean.
“And…”
“And all other house rules still apply, Abby,” he said, turning to you. “Not that I have many. Just when certain people come to visit which isn’t very often. There’s an expected degree of decorum for certain visitors. Otherwise, act however you want to.”
“You kind of live in this big house by yourself and pretend that the outside world doesn’t exist, don’t you?” you said.
“Pretty much,” he said. “Pete, my performance motor oil?”
“Bottom cabinet,” he said.
“Thank you,” said Dean as he headed out.
“I don’t get that guy,” you said, Abby back to cooking, Peter and Sally sharing a smile. “What?”
“Dean’s a good guy. He could have chosen any Omega he wanted, one he loved. Instead he chose you because it helped the most number of people,” said Sally.
“It’s not great here but-“ you said.
“Oh, sweetie. You don’t know how wrong you are. This is going to be the greatest place on earth for you.”
Two Days Later
“Are you still watching that?” asked Dean after dinner, sitting down on the couch with a bowl of ice cream. You’d been glued to the TV all day, watching the new referendums coming down in regards to Omegas. There’d be a vote on putting them into law in a few months but it seemed like the strict rules had a chance of actually passing.
“Where’s my old pack?” you asked.
“Canada,” he said with his mouth full. “This is depressing. Let’s watch something else.”
“You knew this was coming, didn’t you,” you said. Dean set his bowl down and flickered his eyes over to yours. “You knew.”
“I suspected. My family suspected. It’s why the marriage came together in like, two days. Getting people out will be harder now so we did what we could,” said Dean.
“You should have told people,” you said.
“Told them what? That Omegas were possibly getting all their rights taken away? That ones of age went on a list and were rattled off like cattle? People would have rioted,” he said. “It’s not law yet.”
“That would have been their choice,” you said.
“I am not the bad guy. Don’t forget that, Y/N. My family is still working this thing. There is finesse involved with it you don’t seem to understand,” he said.
“But your family only helped my pack out for-“
“Oh don’t be so naive. The world ain’t that black and white. I would have let you go with them if I could have. But we would have lost credibility to help other Omegas if people found out what we were up to so once again, stop looking at me like I’m some scum Alpha that took you off the street,” he said. You slumped back against the cushions and tossed the remote over to him, Dean turning on a baseball game. “Tomorrow you wear the collar all day.”
“Fuck you,” you said.
“What do you think will happen to you when some business associates come here with my father and see my new Omega wife unclaimed? You’ll be rounded up and given to the nearest Alpha,” he said. “You wear it so you’re protected, got it?”
“Fine. You don't own me though. I ain’t acting like some little puppy dog that follows you around either,” you said.
“Never said I wanted you to, sweetheart.”
“What?” you asked, pulling open your bedroom door the next day, Dean standing there in a dress shirt, tie and slacks. He handed you a white bag and you frowned, rolling your eyes. “Let me guess, you want me to wear whatever this is.”
“Something presentable as well. Government officials will be visiting this morning,” he said as he left you. You growled and snatched the bag, grumbling as you went to your closet. You plucked off a blue business dress Sally had recommended and threw it on, throwing your hair up in a bun. Sighing, you went to the bag and pulled out the white collar. It was far fancier than the simple black leather one you’d worn before.
You slipped it on and scowled in the mirror, twitching your eye.
“Dear,” you heard Dean say from the open bedroom doorway, eyes meeting yours in the  reflection. “Do try to not look like you’re ready to commit murder if you can help it.”
“You try wearing one of these things,” you grumbled.
“I have,” he said. You spun around, Dean smiling from where he leaned in the doorway. “I was mistakenly identified as Omega when I presented. For like only a day but god did it suck. That’s when my family changed, when they realized what life would be like for me if I’d actually been that way.”
“How do they mistake an Alpha for Omega?”
“Oh, there were political games being played. I was only just presenting. Easily identifiable Alpha features weren’t yet there...my family once was very traditional. Male Omegas look a certain way,” he said. “I almost ended up as one.”
“So you almost got fixed like a dog because of politics?”
“Yup. My mother threw a fit that night when we returned home after the error was discovered but even when she realized what my father was willing to do earlier on that day, she snapped at him. I always knew she was a strong Omega. But that night...it doesn’t matter how old the pup gets I suppose. An Omega that has their pup threatened is the scariest thing in this world,” he said.
“Is today another political game?” you asked.
“You’ll discover we have to play quite a few of them, unfortunately,” he said. “But while I ask you wear a collar and show some civility, I would like if you do act...yourself.”
“So you want to pretend you claimed a sassy Omega?” you asked.
“I want to show that a sassy Omega is a good thing. Baby steps, Y/N,” he said.
“Be careful what you wish for. Alpha.”
“Ah, it was about time you settled down and got yourself an Omega there, Dean,” said an old man you instantly disliked when you got downstairs. You smiled though, Dean introducing the three men along with Dean’s father to you.
“Choosing to keep her collared at home? Always a smart choice,” said another old man, Grumpy Face you’d decided to call him. You were pretty sure his real name was Hendricks.
“Oh, well, Dean is a smartie,” you said, grabbing hold of Dean’s arm.
“She speaks freely?” one asked and you bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from going too far.
“Of course, Reginald. This house has always been far too quiet. The conversation has been welcome,” said Dean.
“Surely you know in the long run that can’t be good for the poor thing,” said Carter, aka the one you hated the most, following Dean down the hall and headed for the back patio. You would have gone but John grabbed your wrist, Dean nodding when you two stayed back.
“Winchester’s have a knack for choosing strong Omegas apparently,” he said, taking his hand off you when you were alone. “Settle down. They are set in their ways. Dean will convince them eventually but only with your help.”
“My help. Oh yes. He needs my help,” you said.
“Yes. He does. We all do. I know you didn’t choose this. But you can do something good from a poor situation,” he said.
“Did you contact my dad?” you asked.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Dean saw you in the city one day. You were getting coffee. He believed you were...cute. There was some incident between you and an Alpha over a spilled drink and you never backed down for a second apparently. He quite liked that,” he said.
“And you found a way to give your son what he wanted,” you said.
“No. That was circumstantial. The fact you were part of the largest free thinking pack in the state was the selling point for me. Dean was quite angry when I told him what my plan was. The boy did want to marry out of love, not this. But he was willing to sacrifice that to help well over a hundred strangers. If you ever doubt what kind of man he is, remember that,” he said.
“I don't understand what I’m meant to do though,” you said.
“Be yourself. Go pretend that you’re claimed but that is all. Show them that an Omega is stronger than they know,” he said.
“You do all this simply because your son was almost Omega? He said you guys were a very traditional family,” he said.
“We were. Then we realized what we almost did to Dean. What I almost did to him. I almost took something from him. His mother went off on me and I thought of all I took from her as well. We are all equal in this pack. You have as much say in it as I do.”
“You know the referendums are barbaric,” you said.
“They are not yet law. Those three men out there are keys votes. Dean invited them today to talk and he wants you to be part of the conversation,” he said.
“No pressure or anything,” you said.
“You’ll be fine.”
You were lazily poking at the remnants of lunch, one of the old men, Carter, staring at you.
“Yes, Mr. Carter?”
“That is a beautiful collar,” he said.
“I suppose. I like yours too,” you said.
“I’m not wearing a collar, Omega.”
“My mistake. I see you wearing that tie and my little Omega brain goes someone left your leash on you,” you said, giving him a smile. Dean bit down a smile as you picked up your lemonade, John smirking as Mr. Carter cleared his throat.
“If you were my Omega, I’d have you muted,” said Carter.
“If I were your Omega, I’d off myself,” you said.
“You should look into sending your Omega to one of the training schools, Dean,” he said. “The mouth on this one is trouble.”
“Oh, Y/N was raised without the social conventions you’re used to, Mr. Carter. She’s quite fun in that regard,” said Dean.
“John. You’re pack leader. You should perhaps look into getting her into the Folly Academy,” said Carter.
“Dean is her Alpha, not I. Besides, the Folly Academy is an unkind place. Not fit for a Winchester as Y/N now is,” said John.
“You’re...quite right. A Winchester should never set foot in those halls,” he said.
“What’s it like not having a spine?” you asked, giving him a small smile.
“Control your Omega, Dean,” said Carter.
“Do I threaten you?” you smiled. “I’m collared and half your size. How tiny is that knot of yours if little ole me intimidates you.”
You weren’t expecting a slap in the face. You also weren’t expecting Dean to grab your arm when you picked up your fork, ready to stab anything belonging to Mr. Carter.
“Did you touch my Omega without permission?” asked Dean darkly.
“She was out of line,” he said.
“As her Alpha, I will punish her for any indiscretion, not you. We Alphas claimed the Omegas as there was the belief that they needed to be controlled, that they couldn’t control themselves. I see the Omega is the one at this table who has not raised her voice or attacked someone else, Mr. Carter,” said Dean. He released his grip on you. “Go. Have Peter tend to your cheek and wait for me in my room. I do not wish you near these Alphas any more today.”
You left and found Peter in the kitchen, following him up to your room.
“That looks like it hurts,” he said, dabbing a cotton ball of alcohol over the small cut.
“I’ve been hurt worse wrestling with other kids. Surprised the old goot didn’t have a heart attack and keel over from letting his heart rate get so high,” you said. Peter laughed and pressed an ice pack to your cheek. “Thanks.”
“I’ve cleaned up more than my fair share of bumps and bruises. Dean and his brother Sam often wrestle, even in adulthood. Playfully of course,” he said.
“Dean’s not actually going to punish me, right?”
“No, no. Part of the show. I would still wait in his room for him though,” he said. You reached up to the collar but he shook his head. “Not yet. Remember, it is for your protection when there are outsiders here.”
You nodded and left him, retreating to Dean’s room.
It was very beautiful inside but quite plain, like someone else had picked everything out for him and Dean didn’t actually use the space all that often. You sat on the edge of the bed, looking around until you lay back and stared at the ceiling.
Fifteen minutes later you heard the door open and Dean enter, the top button of his shirt undone and tie loose.
“Fucking assholes,” he mumbled, undoing his shirt, almost forgetting like you were there as he headed around a corner and you saw clothes flying in a closet. He sighed as he returned in a band tee and jeans, walking in front of you when you sat up. “Let me see your cheek.”
You moved the pack away, Dean nodding.
“It’ll heal fast. I’m sorry he did that. I wasn’t expecting him to get physical,” he said.
“I could have reined it in a little,” you said.
“Nah,” he said, laying back against the bed. “Nice crack about the tie. Even got dad with that one.”
“What’s the Folly Academy?” you asked. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s a place rich people send Omegas to be taught things. Cooking. Cleaning. Being good in bed. Whatever the owner wants. An Omega goes in and a shell of a person comes out,” he said, turning his head up at you. “Carter was pissed when he left but Reginald and Hendricks actually liked you. They don’t care for Carter either.”
“Do you need all three votes?” you asked.
“Reginald is a shoo in. He has a secret Omega daughter no one knows of, lives in the sanctuary now. Hendricks is on the line but I believe a dinner with just us three this week will fix that. Carter was always a long shot. Maybe with time but I meant what I said. I don’t want you around an Alpha like that, even if you can kick his ass,” he said.
“Alright. Winchester,” you said. “If I find out you’re conning me and actually got a thing against Omegas though, I will tear you limb from limb.”
“I’d expect nothing less,” he said quietly. “If you could help me prove that I’m not the bad guy, I’d appreciate it.”
“May I take off my collar now, Alpha?” you teased.
“You may,” he said with a smile. “Change into some clothes you don’t mind getting dirty. I do need your help with something for a few minutes if you don’t mind.”
“Which way?” you asked, leaning over an engine, hand shoved so far down you couldn’t see a thing.
“Left,” said Dean underneath the car. You started and he chuckled. “Sorry. My left, not your left.”
“How do you do this by yourself?” you asked, finally feeling the thing go, pulling out a small square looking thing.
“A lot of tools and bruised knuckles,” he said, climbing out from under the car and taking it from you. “Thanks.”
“So you’re like a mechanic when you’re not busy being rich?” you asked. He chuckled, taking the part into the bench he had in the garage.
“I, Omega, just really enjoy working on cars. It’s fun. Plus I got a skill if shit ever hit the fan,” he said.
“Why do you live out here by yourself?” you asked.
“I can be myself here. No pretending,” he said.
“Pretend what?” you asked. He sighed and wiped his hands off. “Like how you pretend you don’t find me attractive.”
“Dad,” he grumbled to himself, turning to you. “Sure. I like the way you look. I like the way a lot of women look. I saw you months and months ago, Y/N, before this stuff came up. I just remembered how you’d acted with that Alpha and I knew you’d be tough enough to play your part in this.”
“What exactly is my part?” you asked.
“The independent Omega wife. It could be worse,” he said.
“It could. I still feel like I didn’t get a choice,” you said. He went further back in the garage and opened a cabinet, pulling out a black backpack and holding it up. “Yes…”
“It’s a go bag. You need to run, Hell I annoy you too much one morning, you’re always allowed to take this bag and leave. You can take it right now and leave if you want. I’ll even help you get up to Canada,” he said.
“But I need to stay, don’t I,” you said.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel like you have to. You can go if that’s what you want. You’ll be under a different name but you’ll be out of this mess,” he said.
“You’d actually do that for me, wouldn’t you,” you said.
“I give you my word that if you ever decide to leave, I drop everything and help you do it. Maybe if we can stop the law, get some fresh minds in the government, maybe things could be normal and you can go be with your pack then. If things go south and the law goes through, we’ll get you back with your pack. I promise,” he said.
“You’re my pack now,” you said.
“Y/N,” he said with a smile. “We signed a piece of paper. You don’t belong to me, Omega. You never will.”
“I…” you said, Dean waving the bag in front of you.
“Alright,” he said, setting the bag back in the cabinet. “It’s there if you change your mind.”
“Thank you for helping my pack,” you said.
“Thank you for helping mine,” he said.
“If you thought I was cute back at that coffee shop, why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because there was no need to antagonize you further that day,” he said. “As I suspect you would have felt I was. Let’s forget that happened and we can go from here, okay?”
“So...what do you do on a normal day around here?”
“This for the most part. Sometimes I have lazy days but I’m normally out here in the garage,” he said. “I’m all set. You don’t have to hang out anymore if you don’t want. There’s a pool and the land is large to run around on if you like. Do what you want. I won’t bother you.”
“Okay. I’ll uh, go take another look around then.”
“Dinner was delicious, Abby,” you said as she was heading out for the day.
“I’m just glad to have someone in the house that doesn’t want a bacon cheeseburger for dinner every night,” she said.
“That actually sounds really good,” you said.
“Maybe I’ll make you one if Dean isn’t around,” she said.
“Did someone say bacon?” asked Dean, poking his head out of his office.
“I want to make burritos tomorrow,” she said.
“With bacon,” said Dean.
“I’m so sorry you have to live with him,” she teased. “Goodnight.”
“Night, Abby. Drive safe,” said Dean, locking up after her. “So. I realize I should have asked before as this is very, very important. Your thoughts on bacon?”
“Good. A little crispy but not too much,” you said.
“You want to live life on the wild side tonight, Omega?” he asked with a smirk.
“Uh, sure?”
“No way am I eating that,” you said, Dean humming as he took a bite in the kitchen. “Dean! That’s gross!”
“Um, excuse me but cheese covered bacon is amazing,” he said, waving a piece in front of you. “Come on. I dare you.”
“I dare you? What are we? At summer camp?” you asked, taking the bacon from him. “I eat this and I dare you to eat something healthy for breakfast tomorrow.”
“Deal. Now eat up,” he said, leaning back in his seat with a satisfied smirk. You closed your eyes and took a small bite, opening your eyes. “Good ain’t it?”
“That’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life,” you said.
“Told ya,” he said. “I mean it’s like a gajillion calories but who cares.”
“Well Alpha, let’s try and not block all your arteries by the time you hit 35, hm?” you teased, taking another bite.
“But I’m a big strong, Alpha. I need things like meat and more meat,” he chuckled. “I know. My baby bro is big on health stuff. He keeps yelling at me.”
“Was he the tall one at the ceremony?”
“Yeah, that was Sammy. Sweetest Alpha you’ll ever meet. He wanted to say hi but he was nervous of making you afraid,” he said.
“He can like, come over and hang out if he wants,” you said.
“Is there anyone you would like to invite over? Your friends are allowed here,” he said.
“I don’t really...all my friends and family are gone now,” you said.
“You can still go, up to the Sanctuary if you want,” he said.
“If I stay I might be able to help other Omegas though, right?” you asked.
“Possibly, possibly not. The last thing I want is an unhappy Omega in this house,” he said.
“You were raised by your mom more than your dad if I had to guess,” you said.
“I was. But like you said earlier, you didn’t have a choice about this marriage. Now you do,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because an unhappy Omega won’t live in this house,” he said again. “Sleep on it, if you want to stay or not.”
“You’re...not what I thought you’d be,” you said.
“If I ever am, feel free to kick my ass, Omega.”
“Good morning,” you said, Dean eating an omelet on the back patio.
“You know, this isn’t as horrible as I thought it’d be,” he said, taking another bite of the dish.
“Egg whites are good for you,” you said, taking a banana off his plate. You peeled it and took a bite, Dean quietly eating beside you. “I thought it over.”
“Yes?” he asked. You took another bite, staring out at the yard.
“If I ever say I want to leave, you drop everything and take me that second, understand?”
“I understand.”
“Good,” you said, eating some more. “I want to know what I’m walking into next time with guys like Carter. You and your family treats me as a partner in all this.”
“We can easily do that,” he said.
“Alright,” you said. “That’s that I suppose.”
“You’re staying?”
“If there’s a chance to help, I’ll help,” you said. Dean smiled, looking at the table. “Were you expecting a different answer?”
“No. Happy you’re not seeing me as the villain anymore is all,” he said.
“You mentioned you wanted your own Omega,” you said. “If you found one to your liking, would you claim her?”
“If I found an Omega I loved and she loved me back, I would ask to bond with her,” he said. “Isn’t that how it was done in your pack?”
“Yes. Our Omegas don’t wear collars though and any mated Alpha is marked in return as show of their equality,” you said. “They-“
Dean stood up and scratched his ear, frowning at himself.
“Are you okay?”
“I did not realize the day. I will require privacy sometimes. I will see you tomorrow, Y/N,” he said before he took off towards the house.
“Okay…”
“Peter,” you said at dinner that night. “Where did Dean run off to?”
“I do not know. Somewhere in the basement I suspect. Dean forgot what today was I’m sure with all that’s been going on,” he said. You raised an eyebrow and he smiled. “He normally doesn’t like any staff to come in on his monthly me day. He forgot this month he scheduled it for today it seemed.”
“Alright,” you said. You chit chatted idly until the staff was gone for the day. Dean didn’t seem like the keep an Omega locked away type and if he had a rut, the timing didn’t make sense. You’d never been in the basement but there was an open set of stairs down.
There was a wet bar and movie theater room down there along with a set of doors down a hallway. One was a bathroom, one a large room for storage, one with a keypad and a do not disturb sign hanging on it.
“Well what do you got down here hidden away,” you said.
“None of your business,” he said right behind you. You froze, slowly turning to face at him. There was the scary Alpha face you knew he must have been hiding. “You may use the basement but you will stay away from this room, understand?”
“Suddenly I don’t trust you as much,” you said. He closed his eyes and stared over your head, opening them slowly.
“If I show you, will you never bring this up again?” he asked.
“Okay.”
He sighed and moved past you, punching in a code you couldn’t see before pushing open the door. Inside was a bedroom and private bathroom, Dean’s gaze flickering back to yours.
“It is sound proof and obviously there are no windows. I sleep here on occasion,” he said.
“Okay,” you said, holding up your hands. You spun around to leave, catching sight of a pet bed and blanket in the corner. “I didn’t know you had a dog.”
“Leave. Now,” he said, pushing you out of the room.
After a slightly awkward dinner with Mr. Hendricks the next evening, he assured Dean that he wouldn’t vote for the new Omega law. Dean had pretended the whole basement incident hadn’t happened and you didn’t go down there anymore and let him have his space there to himself.
He was generally very sweet, sometimes flirty, sometimes quiet and almost sad. But he’d kept his word and things were on a friendship level only which you were grateful for. He was easy to talk to and while the situation wasn’t ideal, you never felt trapped there. It’d started to feel like your home too.
Until you woke up one morning a month later to a quiet house, Dean staring at you in the kitchen.
“There will be no staff today. I will be busy again,” he said.
“I’ll stay out of the basement then,” you said.
“It’s not what you think,” he said after a beat.
“Hey. I’m not here to judge. I didn’t see anybody else down there so you do what you want down there buddy,” you said.
“I will see you at breakfast tomorrow.”
Later that evening a storm rolled in. The power stayed on but the wind was really starting to whip around and a tornado warning had been issued. You sighed and went down to the basement just in case, watching a movie on the big screen.
When it finished you went to check up on the weather outside, even if the thunder was still booming overhead.
That’s when you heard a whining. You quietly went to Dean’s open door over in the basement, more whimpers escaping from inside of it. Not the good kind either.
“Dean?” you asked, knocking softly on the door. “You okay?”
You were surprised when the door was just slightly ajar like that.
“Can I come in?” you asked.
You heard something akin to a bark and poked your head in, a shaking beautiful light brown colored dog tucked away on the bed with a blanket around himself.
“Hey,” you said softly, bending down. The dog turned away and shook more when the thunder cracked. “Just a little noise, sweetheart. You’re okay.”
You knelt next to him and the dog curled into your side, tucking its face away.
“Okay. You’re okay,” you said, patting his head, shaking your head when you saw no food or water bowl for the poor thing. “Next time I see you Dean, I am reaming you out a new one.”
You woke up with a sore butt and something heavy on your leg. You yawned and blinked open your eyes, a very confused looking Dean staring up at yours he lifted his head.
“Dude,” you said, Dean sitting up and tucking the blanket around himself.
His very naked self.
“Dean-“
“What are...why are you in here?” he snapped. “What did you see? Tell me.”
“Your dog was crying because of the storm,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “I get the feeling you don’t have a dog.”
“Forgot to shut the fucking door,” he mumbled, staring at you. “I...I can explain this.”
“Yeah. Why don’t you put on some pants and do that.”
Dean was fidgety on the couch after breakfast, asking the staff to stay away again for the day. You took a seat, Dean playing with the bottom of his sweats.
“Dean.”
“You can’t tell anyone,” he said. “Ever.”
“I won’t,” you said. He nodded, pulling his hands away.
“So...there was a reason I accidentally tested positive as Omega back in the day. Someone had been...altering my body without anyone’s knowledge,” he said.
“More games?”
“Yeah. They intended to make me Omega,” he said. “You know. They got those medicines you can give your kids to help their odds of presenting a certain way. Someone was giving me Omega ones...cut with something extra.”
“Can you turn into a dog?”
“Yes.”
“Cool.”
“Cool? Did last night look cool?” he said.
“Are you...like scared of storms?” you asked.
“Human Dean, no. The other one...it’s why the room is soundproof,” he said.
“Poor puppy,” you said, Dean shooting daggers. “Sorry. You were just really scared last night is all.”
“It’s something I’ve lived with since I was seventeen. It’s just a thing I deal with one day a month,” he said.
“Surely if you can do that to a person, there’s a way to fix it,” you said.
“There is,” he said. “It’ll set my body back in balance all the doctor’s say. Right now I’m Alpha like I’m supposed to be. But there are Omega...traits within me...along with the whole dog thing.”
“Why would someone want to make you an Omega? And a dog?” you asked.
“You really don’t want to know the answer to that,” he said. “I try not to think about it. You shouldn’t either.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No. I simply feel the urge come on and have the staff stay away. I change out of my clothes and sit down, then I’m another way. When I wake up the next morning I’m me again. Wagging a tail is a lot of fun actually,” he said.
“You...you don’t have to stay hidden away when that happens. This is your home after all. I’m the guest,” you said.
“This is your home too, Y/N,” he said. “So...the whole dog thing doesn’t freak you out?”
“Oh that’s fucking weird, don’t get me wrong,” you said. “But you had no choice. Someone tried to hurt you. Plus you said you can fix it, right?”
“If my body got back in true balance, I’ll be fully Alpha as I should be,” he said.
“How does that happen?”
“A mate,” he said with a shrug. “But there are worse things than being a dog for a day a month.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” you asked.
“Perhaps. The storm upset me more than I thought. My urge is still there slightly. I want to run the grounds for a few minutes if you think that won’t disturb you,” he said.
“No, go for it,” you said. He nodded and left, trotting through the kitchen on four legs a few minutes later. “Still freaky.”
He barked and wagged his tail, green eyes looking up at you.
“You understand me?”
He barked and put his snout in your hand, leading you to the back door and outside.
“Alright. Go run,” you said. He took off and started to sprint around the yard, long lunges and jumps accompanying him. You went out to the grass and watched him some more, Dean not acting quite like a dog. He looked like one and ran like one but he didn’t sniff the ground or go to the bathroom or do much of anything besides run around before he plopped down next to you. “Have fun?”
He barked, a smile in there, Dean barking again when you scratched his ear.
“Someone has a twisted sense of humor,” you said. He whined and pulled away, trotting back towards the house. “Dean, come on, it’s okay.”
He paused and sat down, letting you catch up and kneel down next to him.
“I meant to say, I’m sorry someone did this to you. You didn’t deserve that,” you said.
He let out a small bark and headed inside, back after a moment looking sweaty as he walked out in his sweats.
“You run really fast,” you said.
“Benefit of being a dog? That sucker loves to run whereas I do not,” he said.
“That’s how you get away with bacon cheeseburgers all the time, isn’t it,” you said.
“I’ll take my perks where I can get them,” he said. “Just...nobody outside my parents and Sam know about this.”
“Secret’s safe with me.”
“Hello Mr. Winchester,” said Peter a few days later. You whipped your head up from the study, a tall man walking inside. “Dean’s on the phone at the moment but should be done shortly.”
“Thanks, Pete,” said Sam, spotting you. “I think I’ll hang out in here for a while.”
Peter left Sam with you, Sam smiling when his eyes caught your bare neck.
“Sorry I haven’t been by yet to properly introduce myself,” he said.
“Dean says you’re a lawyer. I bet that keeps you busy,” you said.
“It does. My wife had our first pup not long before you and Dean were married though. I’ve been a stay at home dad lately,” he said.
“Oh. Just the one?” you asked.
“Winchester’s tend to have small litters,” he said, pulling out his phone and showing you the background, a three month old little girl appearing. “Her name’s Luna. Born during a full moon actually.”
“She’s cute,” you said.
“Yeah she is,” he said, tucking his phone away. “So...Dean says you know all about the family business now.”
“Yup,” you said.
“Good. You should come over sometime, meet Jess and the lil pup. They’re dying to meet you. I’d go insane if I had to live with Dean,” he said.
“Didn’t you live with him for like, years?” you joked.
“Yeah, Sammy. Best big brother ever right here,” said Dean, rounding the corner, ruffling Sam’s head. “Surprised Luna isn’t with you. You two are partners in crime from what Jess says.”
“They can use their bonding time too. I was just...you know what time of year it is. Saturday night,” said Sam.
“Yes, I do. I’ll even babysit,” said Dean.
“Dean. Jess isn’t going. You guys go this year,” said Sam.
“Sammy-“
“It’s one night. We were fine with going when you were flying solo but the pup at home and the new wife and the vote corralling…” he said. Dean closed his eyes. “Have her wear a collar, no one knows the difference.”
“You want me to bring an unclaimed Omega to that party? Besides being against the rules, if anyone finds out, she’ll be owned like that,” said Dean.
“Who’s gonna find out?” said Sam.
“I’m like literally right here you two,” you said.
“It’s a party full of guys like Carter. No, Y/N,” said Dean. “We leave the girls at home, you and I go together this year.”
“Dad says you guys should go. Make sure things are still good with Hendricks and Reginald, try to get Jameson too if you can,” said Sam.
“I thought Jameson was already done,” said Dean.
“Her Omega recently passed. She’s all over the place right now,” said Sam. “Come on. Please?
“I don��t mind. As long as I don’t have to wear that collar too long,” you said.
“You’re really going to get pissed off at the next part then.”
“I think it goes without saying but-“
“I touch the leash, pretty sure that’ll be the last thing I ever do,” said Dean, smiling at you in the passenger seat.
“Good boy,” you said. “You really are starting to get to know me.”
“I am sorry for this party,” he said as he drove. “You’re going to see some mistreated Omegas tonight. Very few are allowed off a leash.”
“Yeah, I get it,” you said, glancing out the window. He stopped at a red light, pausing before a hand reached over to your neck. You watched him but he simply undid the clip attaching the leash to the collar. He grabbed it from your lap and tossed it in the backseat. “You just said-“
“Yeah well, we ain’t getting you any rights if we go in like that. Just be careful tonight,” he said.
“What do you think Omegas should have rights to?” you asked. He chuckled, raising an eyebrow at you.
“Y/N. If I had my way, things would go back to how they were hundreds of years ago, before the dynamic happened. Equality and all that. I think people understand enough about our physiology now that it doesn’t control us like it did back then. But what we got is broken. It takes time to fix all that,” he said. “But you and I, nothing about you is better or worse than me.”
“You honestly think that?”
“I know you don’t think you’re less than me. I don’t think I’m greater than you,” he said.
“...just really hate this fucking collar,” you said, looking out the window.
“Make sure the people you talk to tonight know it.”
“Mr. Carter,” you said, giving him a nod when you and Dean wandered around the ballroom. He did a double take at you, Dean smirking slightly as the two of you headed for the bar and grabbed some drinks.
Dean spun around when you got there, leaning over to you.
“Every Omega in here is watching you right now you know,” he said.
“You really meant what you said about us being equals?” you asked.
“I did,” he said, getting a glass of champagne, your head tilting at the bartender when you didn’t get one. “One for my wife as well, please.”
He set one down in front of you and moved down to the other end of the bar, giving you a snobby look.
“What do you have planned?” asked Dean quietly.
“Got my back if I cause too much trouble?” you asked.
“Duh. Just be careful. I don’t want anyone hurting you again,” he said.
“Why?”
“You’re my friend,” he said softly.
“I’ll try not to pick any fights,” you said, pecking him on the cheek when you saw you still had an audience. “Sweetie.”
He chuckled as you grabbed your glass and left the bar without him, heading through the crowd of people until you found Mr. Reginald.
“Nice to see you again,” you said, the onlookers seeing to give up their interest in you for a moment. At least some of them had.
“Mrs. Winchester,” he said with a smile.
“Is your wife here tonight?” you asked.
“No. She hates these things. I always come alone,” he said.
“I can understand why,” you said, glancing over to an Omega doing her best not to roll her eyes at her husband.
“The attire for Omegas at this event is normally traditional,” he said, looking you up and down.
“Traditions were meant to be broken,” you said, sipping on your champagne.
“Some yes, I would have to agree,” he said. “There is an art to subtly though.”
“Any suggestions on Carter?” you murmured.
“Go dance with him. Show him your softer side,” he said. “You do have one. I’ve known Dean for quite some time. His Omega would be nothing less than equal parts fierce and kind. Carter believes Omegas are animals. Show him you’re a lady.”
“Never been very good at being one of those,” you said, turning away for a moment, raising an eyebrow. “He seriously thinks we’re the animals?”
“Apparently,” he said. You took a deep breath and found Carter across the room, his hand in a leash, waving it about as he spoke to a woman on her own. You saw the Omega by his side, older, the woman in a beautiful gown that didn’t match the sullen face she had.
“Mr. Carter,” you said, giving both the women a smile. “Y/N Winchester.”
“Ah. You must be the elder Winchester’s new wife. Chloe Jameson,” said the woman to your right. You looked at the Omega, her gaze going to the floor. “I see the rumors of the newest Omega Winchester being a rebel are true.”
“No reason you can’t be a classy rebel,” you said.
“Very true,” said Jameson with a smile. “Carter, leave your Omega with me. I know this girl talk bores you.”
He handed over the leash and left without a word, Jameson leading the three of you over to a table.
“You know that leashes are required for Omegas at this party,” she said.
“Oh I don’t need a leash to know who I belong to. Or who he belongs to,” you said.
“Curious thing to say about your Alpha,” she said.
“Well you’re an Alpha. Your part of the deal is to protect and love and care for your Omega, yes? Sounds like an Alpha is as bound as an Omega,” you said.
“Watch the tone, Omega. I cared very much for my Lucas,” she said.
“I didn’t mean you specifically, Mrs. Jameson. It’s not common for the Alpha to take the Omega’s last name after all. I suspect you loved him very much,” you said.
“It’s different when it’s out of love,” she said quietly, glancing at the Omega with you. “This is Farrow Carter. Perfect example of what is expected of an Omega in some people’s eyes.”
“Hi Farrow,” you said. She didn’t say a word but gave you a small nod. “You can talk around me. It’s okay.”
“I’m sure her Alpha doesn’t allow her to speak and as she’s under my supervision, his rules go,” she said.
“That’s a person you’re talking about,” you snapped, her chin lifting up. “Farrow is a person, just like you and me.”
“Farrow. Be a dear here and explain to Y/N who exactly you belong to,” she said. Farrow swallowed and grabbed Jameson’s hand, a barely there flicker rubbing across her face. “In the eyes of some, she is Carter’s. In hers, she’s mine.”
“She’s clearly mistreated. You can’t-“
“Farrow is good at what you call, the long con. We met at Lucas’ memorial service. I did love him but Farrow...she is my true mate,” she said. “Alphas always know right away. It’s crazy what they’ll do for their true Omega. In Farrow’s case, she’s claimed by another but Carter is old and a younger Alpha challenging his claim would be easy enough to win. You know how it is with your true mate. They’re your one, no matter what,” she said.
“So I take it you’re not going to vote for that bill then?” you asked.
“No. I never was although many of my colleagues never knew that,” she said.
“How do I know Farrow actually consents to this relationship?” you asked.
“Chloe is mine because I asked her to be,” said Farrow. You tilted your head, Farrow smiling before she wiped it off her face.
“Like I said, Farrow makes her own decisions, at least when it comes to us. And she gets a kick out of sneaking behind Carter’s back. Convincing Carter to get on the Omega bandwagon will be difficult,” she said. “Not impossible, just difficult.”
“I’m not afraid of a challenge,” you said, giving them both a nod. “Farrow...just because you have an Alpha, doesn’t mean they own you.”
“She knows,” said Jameson. “Go on. Young Mr. Winchester didn’t bring you here to secure already secure votes now did he.”
“No. I suppose not. Here goes nothing,” you said as you stood up. You slowly made your way back across the room, finding Dean speaking with Carter and another man you recognized as Hawkings, the man behind the referendum. Dean looked uncomfortable, Hawkings hand on his shoulder, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted you. “Hello gentlemen.”
“So the Omega wandering around on her own belongs to you, Dean? I shouldn’t be surprised,” said Hawkings. You nodded, giving the man as friendly a smile as you could bare.
“Mr. Carter, could we have a moment?” you asked. Dean opened his mouth but you shook your head. “Oh, I think Mr. Carter and I will be fine, dear. We won’t be gone long.”
You took hold of Mr. Carter’s hand and led him over towards the dance floor, Carter staring at you a moment before he took the lead.
“What’s this all about?” he asked.
“You seemed bored,” you said. “And Dean isn’t one for dancing.”
“He’s always been a quiet Alpha. I was surprised to see his little outburst at lunch a few months back,” he said.
“He was frightened you would harm me. I’m sure you can understand that having an Omega yourself,” you said, Carter spinning you around.
“My Omega is property, nothing more,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” you said.
“For what?”
“That you feel as though your Omega is property is all,” you said.
“You are property of Dean Winchester, Omega. You should remember that,” he said.
“No, I’m Dean Winchester’s Omega, his partner. He is my Alpha and my partner. That is what we are to one another,” you said, Carter missing a step. “I know you don’t agree with that but our relationship is good.”
“Omegas need to be controlled or else you’d throw yourself at any Alpha,” he said. “Case and point, you’re dancing with me right now.”
“Mr. Carter, you revolt me,” you said, Carter stilling. “I am dancing with you to help my Alpha get your vote against the referendums. It sickens me to be this close to you quite honestly. But my partner has asked me to assist him and I will assist him as best I can. Omegas don’t need control and they don’t need fear. They need Alphas that use their status to protect them, not hurt them. Unclaimed Omegas are not bad, Mr. Carter. Mated Omegas do not need to be kept under lock and key. All we would like is to be treated with respect. I don’t respect anyone that doesn’t return it to me, Alphas included. Honey attracts more flies than spice, Mr. Carter. Omegas are not sex crazed animals. They do not need an Alpha to do everything for them either. All they need is a partner, one that cares for them and one they can care for in return.”
“You’re talking about love,” he said.
“Fear and anger are powerful, Mr. Carter. In my experience, love is stronger. Love is the only thing stronger. Love will beat fear every time, even if it will take it’s time. There is nothing wrong with finding a mate you love. I simply wish you felt that way about your Omega. I can only imagine how much happier you’d be if you were in love,” you said, pausing as the song ended. “Thank you for the dance, Mr. Carter.”
“I still don’t like you, Omega. But I do respect you having the courage of an Alpha to speak freely like that to me,” he said.
“I have the courage of an Omega, sir,” you said. You nodded and turned to leave, Carter leaning down to your ear.
“Tell him you’ve got my vote. I was not always this way. I seem to have forgotten an Alpha’s true place in the world,” he said.
“It’s never too late, Mr. Carter,” you said. “Thank you.”
“You reek like Alpha mutt,” said Dean when you got in the car to head home.
“I hated that,” you said, scratching your collar as he started to drive. “Jameson, Carter and Dunlap are all locks against.”
“You got Carter?” he said. “How?”
“I spoke to him with less anger. He’s angry and lonely enough as is. I’m pretty sure we’ll be okay,” you said. “I was surprised to see Hawkings there.”
“Yeah,” said Dean, gripping the steering wheel.
“Want to talk about it?” you asked.
“Later, not now.”
“Dean,” you said, knocking on his bedroom door that night after you’d gotten home and changed. He was frowning when you pushed it open, sat in the middle of his bed and already wearing his pajamas. “You okay?”
“No,” he said, nodding for you to pull the door shut. You sat down on it across from him, noticing the light sheen of sweat on his forehead. “You know how...extreme stress can accelerate an Omega’s heats?”
“Wait, you get-”
“No, I don’t get heats. I mean, I just get the literally heat part of them sometimes. There’s medicine in my bathroom drawer if you wouldn’t mind grabbing it for me,” he said. You got up and found a bottle along with a glass of water, bringing it back to Dean. He looked better almost instantly, Dean unclenching his arms and leaning back against the bed as it kicked in. “Oh, thank you. So much better.”
“So I’m guessing you had some kind of extreme stress tonight that triggered that?” you asked.
“Yeah. Hawkings creeps me out but I’m sure you guessed that already,” he said as he sat up.
“Did he threaten you about the vote?” you asked.
“He knows the vote is going to fail and that’ll be a big setback for him. It’ll probably ruin him for good actually. He knows if I suddenly start acting like a big Alpha asshole though, it’ll help him win back votes,” he said. “You know, start treating my Omega wife like the rest of them. Show them I don’t actually care about you.”
“He threatened me?”
“I’m not going to do any of that, Y/N,” he said with a smile. “You’re my friend. I won’t ever hurt you. It’s my job to protect you after all.”
“You’re not really my Alpha, Dean,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Even if you are my husband.”
“Yeah but I like you. I know it was only a scratch but it bothered me when Carter hit you like that,” he said, offering you a half-smile. “I think it’s better if neither one of us leaves the house for a while, lay low until after the vote.”
“What’d he threaten to do to you?” you asked.
“Finish what he started when I was seventeen,” said Dean, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.
“Hawkings was the one that did that to you back then, wasn’t he,” you said, Dean nodding as he looked forward, glancing at his lap. “Why would he want to make you Omega? And a freaking dog?”
“My family has always been influential in the government. He and my father don’t get along. Hawkings wanted me to be Omega so he could claim me, own me. It’d give him total control over our family with that threat in the air. The dog thing came about because he owns some kind of genetic lab. On the books they help weed out bad genes but in reality they do super shady stuff like splicing DNA. The dog thing would be much slower to take effect completely but if he’d gotten what he wanted, it would have made me his Omega...his literal Omega bitch if you want to use that term,” he said.
You blinked a few times, Dean pursing his lip and staring at the bedspread.
“Hey,” you said, grabbing Dean’s chin and tilting his head up. “You’re not an Omega bitch. You’re Dean fucking Winchester, the best Alpha I’ve ever known. You’re what a real Alpha is, you got that? Hawkings ain’t going to get anywhere near you.”
“He thinks I’m mated so he should leave us alone for now. I think we should at least consider getting you to Canada before everything goes bad though. The vote is in a week. There’s time to get you up to your pack,” he said.
“You’re my pack,” you said. He closed his eyes and turned away, eyes meeting yours though when you turned his chin back. “So what if we’re not mated. You’re my friend. I’m not leaving you here to get forced Omega and to become that guy’s freaking dog and have him humiliate you. You gave up having a relationship out of love to do a good thing for my pack and I’m okay with being with a man like that. I’m more than okay with that. We’re in this together, okay?”
“I don’t know if I can protect you,” he said.
“Well we’ll figure it out. We lay low until the vote and then we deal with whatever happens afterwards.”
Two Weeks Later
The vote hadn’t passed thankfully and now there was a new referendum up to give Omega’s more rights. It seemed that whatever influence Hawkings had died out along with his vote.
Which left him with a lot of time to stew and get pissed at Dean.
“Dean,” you called when you stepped out of your room around dinner time. He’d been working in the garage longer than normal that day and hadn’t joined you for lunch. “Dean.”
You jogged downstairs, the staff seemingly gone for the day, a tupperware container still in the fridge for you to heat up.
“Dean,” you called again.
“Dean isn’t home,” said Peter, appearing from around the corner.
“Oh. Did Abby head home early? Dinner’s already in the fridge,” you said.
“Yes, she wasn’t feeling well so I sent her home after lunch. I attempted to prepare something for you and Dean. I hope it’s up to Abby’s standards,” he said.
“Oh you didn’t have to do that,” you said with a smile. “Thank you though. Do you have any idea where Dean went or when he’ll be back?”
“No. He was missing another part for the engine he’s restoring. I’m sure he’ll be back in a few hours,” he said.
“Alright. You can head home Peter, I don’t mind hanging out by myself,” you said.
“Sure thing Mrs. Winchester,” he said. “Would you like to see the Gardena’s I potted this morning for the front steps?”
“Sure. You always make up such beautiful plants,” you said, tilting your head a little as you followed him to the front door, finding it odd he was suddenly being formal. You slipped on your sneakers though, Peter opening and closing the drawer of the front table quickly when you were bent over, his hands around your neck, tying a collar on it.
One with a lock.
“What the-” you got out before he threw a hand over your mouth.
“Mrs. Winchester,” he said, staring for a long moment. You let him take his hand away and you followed him outside. “Hawkings has Dean downstairs. He broke in not long ago. He doesn’t know you’re unclaimed or here at the moment. I’m sorry for that but now he can’t get the collar off if he tries anything.”
“What do you mean he has Dean downstairs,” you growled.
“I mean, he is force feeding drugs to Dean. He’ll be Omega soon at the rate he’s doing it,” he said. “I suspect he’ll try to claim him after.”
“Did you call the police?” you asked.
“No,” he said.
“Why the fuck not?”
“You are not the only one with a family, Y/N,” he said with a scowl. “Retreat to your room, lock the door and call the police. Don’t go anywhere.”
“Go home, Peter,” you said. “Get your family someplace safe. I’ll deal with Hawkings.”
“They are in Dean’s room downstaris. I don’t know the code,” he said.
“5730. If you don’t hear from me, tell the police it,” you said, giving him a smile before you jogged back inside. You locked up after him and went to the stairs, dashing up them and into your room. You called the police and they gave you the same message about staying put Peter had but you knew Dean lived far out away from town. Help for Dean was at least thirty minutes away.
“Dammit,” you said. You grabbed a knife from the kitchen and went down to the basement, staring at the shut door at the end of the hallway. There was no way to be secretive about using the only entrance so you punched in the code and jumped straight back, knife up. All you saw was Dean passed out on the bed, a tube in his arm, and no other sign of anyone.
“Hello Omega,” said Hawkings from behind you, knocking the knife from your hand and grabbing you by the back of your neck. He tossed you into the room and kicked the knife into the hall, slamming the door shut behind him.
Dean groaned on the bed and blinked open an eye.
“Hey,” he said wearily.
“Save the reunion for later,” said Hawkings, stalking over to you. “Don’t be stupid, Omega. Think of this as your chance at freedom. The second he’s Omega, your bond is broken and you get a fresh start. I honestly don’t care about you. You can go. All I want is him.”
“I don’t really agree with that plan so I’m going to say pass,” you said. Hawkings grabbed your leg and yanked you closer to him, quickly on top of you and pinning you down. “Good luck claiming me, asshole.”
“Peter cares far more about his family than he does you, Omega,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a key. “Omegas are to be kept collared unless being claimed. At least he understands that. He may be Beta but at least he understands that.”
“You try and take this thing off of me, I’ll rip out your throat,” you said.
“It seems I’ll be taking home two Omegas today,” he said. He quickly undid the collar, Dean grunting as Hawkings titled your head back. “Where’s your mark?”
“Go fish,” you said.
“Where is your mark?” he growled.
“He didn’t mate me because I didn’t consent to a barbaric old ritual where I had no say. I’m not property and he knows that,” you shot back.
“Oh, he made a mistake,” he said.
You heard a snarl in the room, both your and Hawkings heads whipping up to see a growling dog suddenly on top of the bed, baring its teeth. It barked and hopped on top of Hawkings, growling on unsteady legs.
“Oh look. It’s my mutt,” said Hawkings. “You should really just let me shove that tube back in your arm, boy. You’re gonna be a whole mess of hormones if you stay all doggie like that.”
Dean growled and jumped in front of you, Hawkings smirking when Dean lunged forward but got yanked back on a leash around him.
“That is why Omegas are to be leashed,” he said.
“Dean,” you said, running a hand over the gasping dog’s head, finding the latch to the collar there. “Go get him.”
You undid it, Dean pouncing on top of Hawkings when he was free. He bit into something as you turned away, a few shouts and grunts and growls lasting until you turned back and Hawkings was out cold on the floor. Dean limped back into the room, looking very human all of a sudden as he dropped to the floor.
“Hey, hey,” you said, Dean groaning as he rolled to his back. “Dean. What’s wrong?”
“It’s trying to change,” he whimpered. “My body. It hurts.”
“Dean,” you said, Dean gasping for breath. “Oh fuck it.”
You got down on the ground and pulled his face to your neck, baring the skin to him.
“Do it. Now. It’s okay.”
Dean’s teeth tore through the flesh of your neck instantly, a strange pleasure pain stealing the air from your lungs.
You were supposed to be having sex when you were claimed. You were supposed to be getting knotted. You were supposed to be feeling the most incredible connection of your life forming.
All you managed to feel was yourself pass out a few seconds later.
“Hm?” you hummed, looking around the front hall you were laying on a stretcher in, Dean padding over with a blanket around his shoulders. “Dean?”
“Hey, sweetheart. Did you know apparently the reason we’re supposed to have sex when we bond is to help the bonding process not be too overwhelming? Hence why the cops found us both passed out,” he said. He stroked his hand over your hair, smiling as you shut your eyes. “Thank you for saving me.”
“Did they get him?”
“Mhm. The guys that had Peter’s family too. He feels horrible apparently for doing what Hawkings told him,” said Dean, helping you sit upright. You opened your eyes, Dean running a thumb over your cheek. “Thank you.”
You smiled, narrowing your eyes when you saw a bite mark on his neck.
“You claimed me too, Omega after you ripped that freaking collar off. That’s how your pack, our pack does it, hm? We claim one another?” he said.
“I don’t remember doing that,” you said, tasting the remnants of blood in your mouth. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said.
“So no more doggie super powers?” you asked.
“Just regular old boring Alpha Dean now,” he said with a smile, tracing his finger down to your arm. “You want to go to the hospital?”
“Do I have a choice?” you laughed.
“Nope. They want to check me out and make sure I’m okay too,” he said. “Come on Omega.”
Two Weeks Later
“Y/N, you seen my socket wrench?” asked Dean, wiping off his hands as he walked out to the back patio around lunch.
“You keep losing it in the bottom drawer of the tool box,” you said, sipping on your lemonade with a smile. He smiled when he saw your father sitting there eating a sandwich. “Dean, this is my dad.”
“Hello sir. Sorry, I thought you weren’t getting in until later tonight,” said Dean, trying to clean off his hands on his shirt.
“It’s fine, Dean. I got in a little early to spend some time with my girl. She’s had a busy few months.”
“That she has,” said Dean.
“She did neglect to say she was mated on the phone though,” he said.
“It was consensual,” you said with a smile.
“I find that hard to believe,” he said, staring back at Dean.
“Dad,” you said. “Dean’s my friend, my best friend. I claimed him too.”
“I still find it hard to believe,” he said. “To be honest, I thought you’d never let an Alpha claim you.”
“Yeah well...Dean’s not any regular Alpha. Case and point, look around at what happened with the law last week,” you said.
“More rights for Omegas,” he said with a nod. “I did a bad thing to you, Y/N. I’m sorry. I hoped this family was what they said they were and you’d be safe with them. I didn’t realize you’d make a whole lot more Omegas safe too.”
“Well you could have picked a worse Alpha for me,” you said, giving Dean a smile. “I’ll show you where the wrench is.”
“Thanks sweetheart,” he said. You hummed as you followed him inside and to the garage, digging through the drawer and pulling it for him. “So, I kind of knew that was there all along.”
“I figured as much,” you said, leaning up and pecking on kiss on his lips. “Alpha.”
“Making me all fuzzy there, Omega,” he said.
“Husband,” you teased, Dean shaking his head. “I know our parents are both in for dinner tonight but tomorrow do you want to go out on a date?”
“Mhm. I like dating you,” he said.
“Normally you do the dating and then the marriage part, not the other way around,” you said.
“We’re unconventional. Sue us,” he said, kissing the tip of your nose. “I’ll be done soon and then I’ll be in to hang out with you and your dad, m’kay?”
“Sounds good, Alpha,” you said. “Don’t take too long now.”
A/N: Read the follow up spin off here!
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junie-bugg · 4 years
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Prospects and Propriety - Chapter Two
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Summary: Everlark Jane Austen AU
Katniss Everdeen and her younger sister Prim are the adopted daughters of Mr. Haymitch Abernathy, a wealthy man with no biological heirs. By the rules of Panem society, an older sibling must be married before the younger can wed. In a time when women have no means of making their own living, marriage is the only way for Katniss to save her sister from destitution and set her up for a happy marriage of her own. Katniss sets her sights on Mr. Gale Hawthorne, a wealthy man who just moved to Whitley and who seems to have his eye on her. But what of the poor baker’s boy who once took a beating to save her life?
Read here on Tumblr or on my AO3 account: izzacrosswriting
Warning: I do plan on this series getting a lil smutty. There will be graphic depictions of violence, sex, and possibly death. I’m still working everything out:)
Nature ambiance(s):
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UZ9uyQI3pF0&t=1694s
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hUjUhZ1Yy7Y
Music:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hQbx-OkfN-M
(If you want to listen to this song on Spotify it's called Symphony No.5 in C Sharp Minor: 4. Adagietto (Sehr Iangsam))
Word Count: 3125
Chapter Two
Prim and I have the next day off of lessons. We’ve been homeschooled ever since we came to live with Haymitch, but the weekends are saved purely for whatever we see fit to fill them with. For me, that’s mostly hunting and being out in the woods, unless the weather is bad, and sometimes not even then. 
If I decide to stay at home I usually lounge around with a book and see what Prim is up to. It’s mostly knitting, dress-up, or playing with the ugly cat Haymitch let her keep a few years back. Prim named him Buttercup, claiming that his matted, ruddy coat matched the bright yellow of the flowers she so adored. I had wanted to drown the thing in a bucket when we caught him stealing scraps from the kitchen, but Haymitch had laughed, even picked the thing up by the scruff of his neck and shook him around. 
“Look at this little guy, sweetheart. He’s a survivor. We can’t kill him!” He had placed the dirty, mewling kitten into Prim’s arms and the thing had hissed at me. I was worried he’d give Prim some kind of disease but he never did. I don’t feel gratitude towards him though. Only suspicion. It could still happen. 
When I want to be alone I go to my greenhouse. Really it’s Prim’s and my greenhouse, but ever since she found maggots in the compost pile nearly two years ago, she hasn’t stepped foot in there.  The greenhouse is small, maybe a third the size of my bedroom, but it’s peaceful. Especially when it storms and I can hear every hollow beat of the raindrops on its glass roof. It’s situated on the edge of the grounds by the tree line that morphs into the large forested hill behind Victor Greene, Haymitch’s estate. Over the years I’ve planted herbs and flowers and medicinal plants I’ve found on my journeys into the woods. The plants do well here in the rows of dark soil I’ve fortified with compost and fertilizer. The whole place smells of earthy rot and there’s something about how sunlight scatters lazily through the frosted windows that calms me. There’s a nook on the far side of the greenhouse, past all the plants, where I’ve scattered some quilts and pillows on a wide triangular window ledge. It’s a perfect place to read or sleep. Or sing. 
This is the only place where I let myself sing. I don’t even do it in the woods, always afraid someone else taking a stroll will hear me or that I’ll scare away game. Ever since Prim and I were placed under Haymitch’s care, really ever since our dad died, I refuse to sing in front of others. Maybe it’s because I’m shy and I don’t like people listening to my voice swelling and breaking on the high notes. Or maybe I’m lying to myself and I don’t sing in front of others because it’s too painful to remember a time when my life was filled with music. Mountain aires and lullabies and love songs, all sung by my father. I guess I don’t like breaking apart when there’s an audience. But when I’m alone I can shatter beneath the notes for a time, before I’m needed back up at the house. 
Today, however, instead of knitting or playing hide and seek in the gardens, Prim has informed me she wants to walk to the village. “You need new ribbons for the ball!” She squeaks as I button up her light pink dress from behind. We have servants available who help us dress or bathe or brush our hair but I always like helping Prim myself. She looks like a tiny little princess with her frilly dress and her curls pulled back with a pearl white ribbon. In contrast, I look plain in a forest green frock and my light brown shawl. 
“I told you, Prim. I’m not going.” I struggle with the last button. Prim has been going through a growth spurt and soon she’ll be too big for this dress. I feel sad, watching my little sister growing up so fast. 
“I heard Mrs. Winthrop and Ms. Trinket talking and they said you had to go,” She’s grinning so hard I can see the slight gap between her two front teeth. “Because Mr. Hawthorne is going to be there.” 
Ah, yes. My supposed husband-to-be. So even Prim has heard about Ms. Trinkets’ ridiculous arrangements. A man with that much money has his pick of the litter when it comes to choosing brides. I’m not ugly, but I’m no exquisite beauty either. Not like some of the girls I see around Whitley. I have no fortune of my own, really no status either besides being Haymitch’s ward and that will go up in smoke the second he dies. Most likely Mr. Hawthorne will look right through me and move on. But the news that I’m being forced to attend the public ball worries me. The whole village will be there. Including him. The baker’s boy. 
Maybe some new ribbons aren’t such a bad idea. 
We turn down an offer for the carriage and instead walk along the main road into Whitley. My boots have barely brushed the cobblestone sidewalks when Prim is dragging me into the seamstresses’ shop. The dressmaker, Cinna Ludgate, and the tailor, I think her name is Portia Peever, both turn to welcome us. Prim tells Mr. Ludgate about my need for new ribbons and in a flash he pulls down the display from the ceiling, winking at me as he walks back to the counter. 
There are so many to choose from. Streams of all colors flutter between my outstretched fingertips like butterfly’s wings. I see ribbons of frilly lace, satin, velvet, and even silk. My eyes land on a simple, white cloth ribbon with a delicate embroidered lavender pattern. I hold it up for Prim’s inspection and she declares I have to buy two in case I manage to get one dirty before the ball. 
I’ve just handed Mrs. Peever the money for the ribbons when the bell over the door rings. In walks Ms. Delly Cartright, one of Prim’s closest friends, and her older sister, Ms. Marianne Cartright. Their father is the village shoemaker, so they’re well known and well-liked by almost everybody. Delly is Prim’s age which gives them plenty to talk about. Prim grabs a hold of Delly and begins showing her the latest shipment of buttons Mr. Ludgate has displayed. 
Marianne is one year younger than me but we’ve never exchanged more than simple pleasantries. I dread small talk but from my personal experience, a trip into town wouldn’t be deemed official without at least one awkward encounter. 
“Are you coming to the ball, Ms. Everdeen? You missed the last one,” Marianne asks. She’s absolutely gorgeous, with big, blue doe eyes and a pouty mouth. Her nose is small and her figure slender. She is what they call a “country belle” in Town. I know at least five love songs written about girls like her. I expect in a few years Prim will grow to be one herself. 
“The dancing was splendid. I do hope you’re coming next week,” She continues.
I hold up my ribbons in response. “My tutor Ms. Trinket won’t let me miss it.” I force my mouth into a smile. 
“Oh,” Marianne’s eyes have settled on my ribbons. They’re probably a tad dull for her taste seeing as there were velvets and silks to choose from, but I like the simple flower design. The white cloth paired with the purple and green thread looks pretty. “Well, as my darling mother always says: simple never goes out of style.” She smiles up at me but the warmth doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “My sister and I are here for my dress fitting. I can’t wait to show everyone what Mr. Ludgate made me for the ball. It’s a custom piece!” She practically squeals. I nod and bid her goodbye, waving Prim over so we can leave. I breathe a sigh of relief as we exit the shop. I hate girl talk. 
With our main objective for coming to Whitley carried out, my feet automatically turn towards home, but Prim has other ideas. “Can we look at the cakes, Katniss?” She begs. She’s like a little puppy. I can’t refuse, though I grow more anxious with every step closer to the bakery we get. 
I know what this is. A look at the cakes in the window leads to Prim asking to go inside. It’s happened before and I’ve been lucky enough to avoid him. He works alongside his parents and two older brothers anyway. What are the chances that he’ll be manning the counter and not the ovens in the back? 
Prim pulls me through the bakery doors and runs to press her face against the display case. I hear a call of “I’ll be right there!” from the back, followed by a grunt and the shuffling of boxes. I join Prim and am just starting to admire the selection of pastries when I hear a quiet gasp and look up. 
It's him. The baker’s youngest son. I don't know him by name but I remember him. Of course, I remember him. I can almost feel the icy sheets of rain and the hollow numbness of hunger from that horrible day as I meet his gaze. 
Our father had died three months earlier. He had been a poor wheat farmer but the income from the harvest was enough to support a small household. My mother traded plants and home remedies to supplement what our empty pockets couldn’t buy. One winter, my father had been kicked in the head by his horse. My mother did everything she could but even as young as I was, I knew he had died before he hit the ground. After that my mother stopped eating. She just sat in bed and stared at the walls while her children turned to skin and bone. I did everything to try and rouse her but it was no use. With our father dead so too was her will to live. 
At eleven I became the sole provider of the family. I ventured into town alone to sell that damn horse, some old jewelry, and even dresses of my mother’s from her merchant days, but the money ran out quickly and there was more to buy than food. Our hearth sat cold, unused, and wanting of wood, and we resorted to rubbing ourselves raw to keep warm. We stopped attending school in the village, afraid that a teacher would see how hollow we were becoming and would whisk us away to the orphanage. I had seen orphans in the schoolyard, their faces empty and their shoulders slumped in defeat. I would never let that happen to Prim. 
We had eaten nothing but dried mint leaves in water for three days before I decided to try selling some of Prim’s old baby clothes in town. The clothes were threadbare and faded so nobody had wanted them. My arms were shaking so violently from cold and malnourishment that I ended up dropping them in a puddle. I decided to leave them there, afraid that if I bent over I wouldn’t be able to get back up. 
I found myself stumbling around behind a row of brick buildings. The rain had started and I was soaked to the bone. The smell of baking bread carried over the frigid air and I realized I was behind the bakery. The back door was open and I stood, trancelike, basking in the warm glow of the ovens before a thought floated through my foggy head. Maybe they had food scraps in their trash. A crust of bread or rotting vegetables, something only my family was desperate enough to eat. I lifted the tops off of the bins and my hopes died when I saw that their insides were heartbreakingly bare. 
Suddenly, I heard a woman screeching. It was the baker’s wife. She spat remarks about how she was sick of people going through her trash bins and if I didn’t leave she would call law enforcement. As I dropped the lids and backed away I saw a boy peeking out from behind his mother’s skirts. I recognized him from school but we had never talked. 
With my final hope gone I slumped against a scrubby little apple tree in their yard. My knees buckled and I slipped down into the mud. I would rather die than go home empty-handed to Prim’s gaunt face and my mother’s sickly, unblinking eyes. 
I heard a commotion from the bakery and then the ring of metal on flesh. 
“Feed it to the pigs you worthless creature! No one decent will buy burnt bread!” The witch screeched. There was the boy again, come out the back door clutching two blackened loaves. A bright red mark shone on his cheek and my heart twisted when I realized his mother must have hit him. He looked between me and the pigpen, and then glanced back towards the door. His mother must have gone up to front to serve a customer because then I heard him sloshing his way through puddles to get to me. 
“Take them!” He urged, pressing the loaves into my skeletal hands. “Take them! Go!” As quickly as he came he was gone, back into the kitchens. I watched him disappear. As he closed the door only then did I realize what he had done for me. 
Two loaves of bread! And they weren’t even that burned, really only the crusts had been damaged. I quickly pressed them to the skin under my shirt and hurried home. The searing heat from the loaves roused something within me. I couldn’t die. Not when I had Prim to take care of.
I dropped the loaves on the table and stopped my sister from savagely tearing a chunk off for herself. I sat her down, forced our mother to join us, and then began scraping off the blackened bits. That night we feasted on two slices of bread each, afraid so much food might make us sick. The loaves were hearty, filled with nuts and bits of cranberry. I had never tasted anything so good in my entire life. 
 As I predicted, it was a teacher that found out about our situation. Upon our absence at school, she had come looking for us and found Prim and I living in squalor with a mother that was too sick to care. I thought that was it, that we were to be sent to the orphanage now and our mother taken away to an institution. But a man by the name of Haymitch Abernathy, wealthy and lacking a family of his own, intervened. He had heard of our misfortunes from hushed gossip around the village and had petitioned to adopt us. Our mother was eventually sent to an institution by the sea and we’ve lived with Haymitch, fed and clothed and taken care of, ever since. 
The baker’s boy saved our lives that day. Surely I would have given up and died under that apple tree if it wasn’t for the kindness he showed me. I owe him everything. And because of that, I will never be able to pay him back. 
I take him in now. He's taller than he was before. Much taller. His chubby child’s build has been replaced with an imposing stature that takes up almost the entire doorway. I guess a lifetime of hefting bakery pans and kneading dough has left him broad-shouldered and muscular. 
“Katniss,” he says. I can tell he’s surprised to see me. His voice is deep and I note that his blonde hair curls with sweat. There’s a streak of flour on his cheek and an apron tied around his waist.
“It’s Ms. Everdeen,” I correct him. It’s out before I can stop myself and as soon as I say it I want to bite my own tongue off. How pretentious I must sound. It's only after Prim has begun ordering a sugar-dusted fruit tart from the case that I realize with a start that the baker's boy knows my name. 
His face is flushed and pink when he turns his eyes to me. 
“I'll take four of those cookies,” I get out. “The orange lilies.” My voice sounds weaker than normal. I hate this. I feel fragile under this boy’s gaze. And that's when I realize: he must be waiting for his thank you. For the bread that he burned and took a beating for. But I can't do it, either because Prim is with me and it would confuse her and probably embarrass the boy, or because it's been five years and the time for ‘thank you’ is over. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he doesn't remember. He probably only knows my name because it was a source of gossip around town when Haymitch adopted Prim and I. He must remember me from then. 
He gives me a timid smile, deftly wraps the cookies in parchment paper, ties them securely with a piece of fringed twine, and hands the package to me. I suddenly feel the need to fill the silence so I blurt: “They’re beautiful. The cookies.” 
He manages to turn a shade pinker. “Thank you, I do most of the frosting around here. I made those this morning.” As I hand him the money for the treats, I assume that's it. That was the end of our conversation. But my tongue is moving again. 
“They look just like the lilies in the woods. I see them on my morning walks.” 
“Yes, exactly,” He grins and reveals a charming set of dimples. “I’ve seen them when I go to the woods to paint.” 
I don't know what else to say and Prim has started tugging on my hand. She’s probably anxious to get home so we can enjoy our treats with tea, so I give him one last look and utter one last thank you before heading back out into the crowded square. 
“Do you know him?” Prim asks as we begin walking towards home. 
“No,” I say, a little relieved to be leaving. I can't catch my breath and my heart is racing like it does when something frightens me. “I don't even know his name.”
“Well, I've never seen you be that talkative with a stranger.” She beams. “Wait until I tell Mrs. Winthrop!” 
Is that what he is to me? A stranger? I shake the thought from my head.
He knew my name. The very least I can do is learn his. 
23 notes · View notes
kalena-henden · 4 years
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quarantine tag game!
I was tagged by @gwil-lee thanks!
ARE YOU STAYING HOME FROM WORK AND SCHOOL? Yes, I’m working my full-time job from my living room. 
IF YOU’RE STAYING HOME, WHO IS THERE WITH YOU? I’m 95% by myself because my roommate mainly lives with her boyfriend.
ARE YOU A HOMEBODY? YES! I’m even wearing a sweatshirt right now with ‘home body’ embroidered on it. LOL It’s gotten alot of use during this lockdown.
AN EVENT THAT YOU WERE LOOKING FORWARD TO THAT GOT CANCELLED? My cousin’s wedding was supposed to be last weekend. Also, I’m not going to be able to celebrate my milestone birthday in person since our city’s shelter-at-home orders were extended to mid-May. I’m not surprised but I had been looking forward to it. I have a friend’s wedding scheduled for June so we’re waiting to see if that will get cancelled as well. 
WHAT MOVIES HAVE YOU WATCHED RECENTLY? Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (LOVE THIS!), Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham, Frozen 2, Charlie’s Angels (2019), Jodhaa Akbar, Minority Report, He’s Just Not That Into You, Bride & Prejudice, Late Bloomer (with Nathan Parsons), Just My Type, The Mummy, The Mummy Returns, A Walk to Remember, The Guernsey Literary & Potato Peel Pie Society, Avengers: Infinity War & Endgame.
WHAT SHOWS ARE YOU WATCHING? I had been trying to only watch television shows that for reasons I had never finished. So far I have finished The Crown, Victoria, and have one episode left of The Mandalorian. Still working my way through Parks and Rec. But then I got roped into watching the new MacGyver with Lucas Till. For S4, the network brought on Terry Matalas (showrunner of the fantastic 12 Monkeys tv show) to run the current season. I had been meaning to check it out (cause I will follow Terry anywhere now). Then I ended up on a Friday night not being able to decide watch to watch and decided to see what was on broadcast tv and there was a new episode of MacGyver. Cut to me binging my way through S1 this past week. Also, the new episode on Friday had at least a dozen hidden Easter Eggs for 12 Monkeys, all while delivering a solid episode with real stakes and emotional consequences. I think we need to start calling that the Terry Special™.
WHAT MUSIC ARE YOU LISTENING TO? Week 1 of the quarantine I read a tweet about about a tropey fic suggestion meet cute for two strangers who get stuck in quarantine together and fall in love. Then people started responding with their mostly punny fic titles. The one I liked the best was Love in the Time of Coronavirus so I made a playlist for it. It’s chill and emotional but you can also dance to it.
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WHAT ARE YOU READING? I read The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern and Unmarriageable by Soniah Kamal. I’m currently reading God is Not Mad at You by Joyce Meyer and two books where the main character spends alot of time by themselves: The Martian by Andy Weir and Dragondrums by Anne McCaffrey.
WHAT ARE YOU DOING FOR SELF-CARE? Making my bed (which I never do), getting dressed (t-shirt and jeans/leggings and earrings), daily skincare routine but absolutely no makeup (video chat has to take me as i am), wearing my contacts during the work week and clark kenting it with my glasses on the weekends, a nice long bath + my new sugar scrub, eating healthy and more importantly snacking healthy (that’s my weakness normally), carving out time to vege out and not letting myself feel guilty about it, calling/texting family/friends, recording my day and daily gratitudes in my bullet journal (I just started this in February and it’s been helpful in keeping my sanity). 
I hope you are all staying safe! 
Tagging: @gentlesleaze​ @captainandor​ @onlymorelove​ @la-ermitana​ @gilbertsannes​ @ababyyoda​ (Btw I do plan on doing more of the memes I’ve been tagged in.)
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Queen of Hearts - Chapter 10
Thirty-year-old Rose Tyler’s matchmaking business is doing very well indeed, bringing her clients such as celebrities, athletes, and the now-happily-married son of the mayor.  All of which brings her to her newest client - one whose royal rank is a far cry above her own title as Queen of Hearts.
Ian, King of Gallifrey, calls off his wedding four weeks before the happy day as he realizes he can’t spend another minute of his life with his betrothed.  The catch - he must take a wife before his Coronation, only a month away.  In desperation, his sister and aunt conspire to find him is happy ever after - and it’s going to take a master matchmaker to do it.
-
Based on the Hallmark Movie ‘Royal Matchmaker’.  Chapters will be posted every Sunday.
As always, beta’d by the wonderful @stupidsatsuma​!  @doctorroseprompts
Masterlist  |  AO3
---
Friday, April 12th
The next morning, Rose was just about ready to give in and ask how Mel had breakfast delivered when a knock on the suite door preceded Ryan the footman poking his head in.
“Ma’am?”  He offered out a silver tray, a folded piece of cream stationary perfectly centered on it.  The Gallifreyan coat of arms was embossed on the top in gold and scarlet, looking terribly fancy.
Rose scrambled up from the floor, where she’d been in the middle of the file folders on each of their remaining candidates.  With any luck, the pool would be narrowed further once she got the King’s assessments of each woman back. “Thank you!”  Opening the note, she found perfect handwriting inside that read:
Rose,
Please join me for breakfast.
Ian
“When you’re ready, ma’am,” Ryan said politely, and she nodded.
“One minute.”  She darted back into her bathroom, pulling her brush through her hair again and refreshing her lipstick before returning to the main room, tugging at the hem of her skirt.  “Hopefully we’ll have the new list by noon, and we can reevaluate then.  Text me if anything comes up.”
Mel laughed, shaking her head.  “Go eat, find out how last night went,” she ordered.  “I’m going down to the breakfast room soon, see who turns up and get the gossip that way.  We can compare notes whenever you’re back.”
“You’re an absolute angel,” Rose declared, before following Ryan down the hall towards breakfast.  She straightened her outfit on the way, wondering who all would be at the meal and how the evening had gone.
She was escorted to their now-typical dining room, the more intimate one from Monday evening.  Entering, she was slightly surprised to find the King already there, sitting in his usual spot and writing away on a sheet of paper.
He was alone, and her heart unclenched.
Something alerted him to her presence and his head jerked up, a smile spreading across his face.  “R- Miss Tyler!  Thank you for joining me, please, have a seat.”
To her surprise he practically ran around the table to pull her chair out for her, waiting until she sat to push her back in before returning to his own seat, putting his papers away without an apparent second thought.
“How was your evening?”
Rose arched an eyebrow, barely noticing as their food was delivered and the servants slipped out of the room.  “Busy with the final touches for tomorrow night.  Yours?”
It hit her like a bolt of lightning before he even opened his mouth, the reason for his good mood.  Oh, God, no.  He found someone.  Then she realized what she’d thought with horror.  No, that’s a good thing!  That’s why we’re here.  He was supposed to find his perfect queen last night.  Regardless, tears welled in her eyes.
“It was fine,” he shrugged, “I’m just finishing up the reviews now.”  He gestured towards the folder, which Rose realized must contain the after-meeting questionnaires she’d asked him to complete.
“That’s good,” she choked out, toying with a bite of waffle.  “Your comments will help up guide you further, or possibly re-expand our pool if need be.”  Waffles were her favorite food second only to chips, but at this moment, she couldn’t even bear the thought.  “How many women do you want to keep?”
Ian gave her an odd look, unusually serious even for him, before quirking his lips into a smile.  “Keep?  None.”  The strange look flashed in his eye again, but he just shook his head.  “I’m not looking for a harem. I was speaking to Donna though – she said you had a woman on the list who wasn’t there?”
Rose nodded, pasting on a numb smile and hoping he couldn’t see her lack of enthusiasm.  You’re a professional, act like it!  “One, yes, a French diplomat’s daughter – we’re still trying to get her to come at least for a visit, but she’s currently on a private yacht in the Mediterranean, and we’re having trouble getting in touch with her.”
“All right.  What happens in the meantime, then, oh wise one?”
A dozen things hovered on the tip of her tongue, but what came out was, “Today, each woman gets an hour of your time, just the two of you, so you can get to know each other better.  Then the fundraiser tomorrow night - I expect we can eliminate at least another one or two based on their reactions to the event. Then early next week you’ll spend a day with each of the remaining matches, amidst your other duties.  They’ll shadow you somewhat as I did, to dedications and speeches and such.  If our long shot surfaces long enough to get her here, you’ll spend some time with her as well.”
“And when do I need to choose?”  Despite his earlier enthusiasm for his steak and eggs, he was now pushing bits of egg around the plate in circles with his fork, staring at the food without seeming to see it.
“I recommend by next weekend,” Rose said softly, “so you have at least a few days before the engagement party to focus on each other and be sure.  Well, as sure as you can.”  It was a tight timeframe, too tight, but all she could do was cross her fingers and hope for love at second sight, if not first.  Come on, Reinette, answer your phone!
“Do I have to marry one of these three women?  If I found… found someone who suited me better?”  He raised his head, watching her expression intently, and she floundered for a moment.
He’s not saying what you think he is, the little voice in the back of her mind that sounded like her mother whispered.  Don’t be so presumptuous.  “That’s not up to me,” she said truthfully.  “The Princess hired me to find you a wife – I certainly have no authority to force you to do… anything.  If you were to find someone… someone else, I’d be happy to run you both through our program, find your compatibility percentage.”
“Even if it cost you your fee?”
“I just want you to be happy,” Rose blurted with far more honesty than she had intended, eyes widening for a moment before trying to backtrack.  “I mean, my whole mission is to help people find love.  I want everyone to be happy.  You know?”  She chewed on her bottom lip, and for a moment, she imagined he was staring at her mouth with longing.
“I understand.”  The King nodded, and the tension vanished.  “Anyway, is there anything I can do to help with planning for tomorrow?”
-
Donna shut the door to Lungbarrow House with a relieved sigh, reveling in the peace and quiet after the organized chaos of the ballroom in preparation for the fundraiser, now a little over twenty-four hours away.  The servants were done for the day, the children still at the Center, and she had the house entirely to herself.
“Angel?”
Opening her eyes, she found her husband standing in front of her watching with a concerned expression.
“Hi,” Donna breathed, stepping forward into his waiting arms and sinking into him.  “Oh, it’s so nice to see someone sane.”
“Trouble?”  Taking her by the hand, he led her up the stairs to their bedroom, settling on the bench at the foot of their bed and watching her with patient eyes.  That was one of the numerous things she loved about her husband, his patient, easy-going temperament.  They were polar opposites in many ways, but that only served to make them work.
Donna shook her head, sinking into his side.  “No.  Not really.  It’s just so frustrating!”
Her husband hummed.  “What?  Planning?”
“Ian!  And Rose.  God, Lee, they’re so stupid.  Both are still pretending that he’s going to marry one of these women she’s brought in, and it’s infuriating.  I’ve tried hinting to him about her, and it’s getting me nowhere!”
“Rose?  For Queen?”  Lee tilted his head against hers as he considered the idea.  “That… sounds like a good match.”
“Right?!  Oh, wait until you see how they look at each other tomorrow at the Fundraiser.  There’s no denying what’s there – except for them, apparently.”  Turning her head, she captured his lips in a tender kiss.
He returned it, deepening it, one hand coming up to cup her face, thumb brushing tenderly along her cheek.  “I wish them as much happiness as I have,” he whispered, raining kisses over her face.
“Lee?”
“Yes, Angel?”
“Stop talking about my brother and start taking off your shirt.”
“Yes, Angel.”
-
Saturday, April 13th
Contrary to Thursday night, when the guest list had only included himself, Donna, and the five ‘bachelorettes’ as he had taken to privately calling them, the benefit on Saturday was open to the public.  For twenty euros any citizen could gain access to the Palace, attend a talent show given by the children Polly and Ben cared for, have a nice meal catered by the palace kitchens, and mingle with the royal family.
Ian had made sure the casual nature of the evening was very clear to everyone – especially his potential brides.  He himself was dressed in work boots, jeans, a Queen tee, and a black jacket with scarlet lining he particularly loved even if Donna said it made him look like a party magician.
In a fit of whimsy, he had stationed himself by the entrance to the ballroom so he could shake everyone’s hand as they entered and thank them for attending.  He found it particularly amusing how many would almost brush past him, stop dead, turn back and fall into a deep bow or curtsey and stammer excuses.
So far three of his five potential brides had stopped by to chat, each dressed for a State Dinner.  They looked amazing, in ball gowns and large jewels – and entirely out of place.  At least that makes it easy to avoid them, he thought gloomily, all the while realizing the folly of such a thought.  He would have to marry someone in sixteen days, and they were the best a professional matchmaker could find for him.
Objectively he knew many kings married for money or power or treaty, that few had married for love.  That he should pick whoever would be the best queen and be done with it.  In this day and age with modern medicine, he never had to even sleep with her if he didn’t really want to; they had several other options of having children that in no way involved sharing a bed.  And they weren’t terrible, he could see himself with all of them in some way – in another life.
But that’s not the kind of marriage I want.  What he wanted, he considered wistfully as he watched Donna and Lee sway incongruously to a popular pop song and giggle together, was someone who loved him, and he loved her, and they could share a reasonably-normal life.
“Yes,” he heard behind him, and he spun around, eyes lighting at seeing Rose standing there holding two beers.
“Hello!” he said warmly, raking his gaze over her as he stepped closer, away from the door.  Finally, someone who listens.  She was in dark jeans and heels which gave her a classy but casual look, matched with a worn Queen tee and leather jacket.  She looked better than the women in their ball gowns, and his heart stuttered.  “Wait, what?”
Rose laughed, throwing her head back, but naturally, not in the performatively-seductive way some of the candidates had.  “Yes,” she repeated, “I can find you somebody to love.”  His blank look sparked another round of laughter, and she gestured at his own shirt.  “Isn’t that the single cover for ‘Somebody to Love’?”
Ian stared down at his shirt for several long seconds, but eventually his brain rebooted and he realized she was right, chuckling softly to himself.  “I didn’t even notice,” he confessed, “just grabbed the first one I saw.”  In hindsight, perhaps it was a bit too on the nose.
“Well, I like it.  And hey, we match!”  She pulled her jacket away to let him see the detail; sure enough it had the artwork for A Day at the Races, the album from which Somebody to Love had first debuted.  A perfect match indeed.
“So we do,” he choked out, voice huskier than intended, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“How’s it going so far?  Oh!”  She thrust one of the beers towards him, flushing.  “Sorry, I grabbed this for you then forgot all about it.”
Ian took it with surprise, lips turning up as he tasted it.  “My favorite. Thank you.”  How does she know?
“You looked like you could use a drink,” she shrugged, sipping at her own, before her eyes widened again.  “Because you’ve been doing so much talking! I thought your throat was probably dry, not that you were bored!”
He laughed at her slightly panicked expression.  “I appreciate the thought,” was all he said before changing the subject.  “How are you finding the event?  Are you pleased?”
Rose nodded, her whiskey eyes lighting again.  “I don’t have much experience event planning, but it was so much fun!  Choosing everything, trying to find the right balance between the formality they would expect from the Palace but a casualness to make the average person feel welcome instead of intimidated.  But you didn’t answer, have you had a chance to speak to any… non-subjects yet?”
A small clump of hair had escaped her fancy hairdo, hanging over her cheek, and it made it difficult to process her words for a moment.
Grimacing, he nodded towards the high-top where all five women stood, each dressed to the nines, looking utterly out of place at what amounted to a casual fundraiser.  It was fitting, given what his heart was trying to tell him. “Apparently I wasn’t clear enough.”
Rose clucked her tongue, shaking her head and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, one that had been making Ian’s fingers itch to fix.  “Well, that’s disappointing.  Maybe they thought it was a test – the other way, I mean.  I don’t know.”  She huffed, irritated on his behalf, and he had to fight back a smile.
“By the by, the one in… what’s that color?  The reddish-pink one?”
“Coral?”
“Yes, her, and the one next to her in the bubblegum pink – I’ve had Sarah book them on the first train out tomorrow.”
Rose nodded, not looking surprised.  “If it makes you feel better, they were the lowest two compatibility scores of the five.”
A question was on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it down in favor of asking, “Any word on the French girl?”
“Reinette?  No, though we’re close.  We expect to get in touch by Sunday noon.”
“All right.”
They stood in silence together for the length of a song, sipping at their beers, and he tried desperately to ignore how right it felt, tried to ignore the advice she’d given him the evening before – he’d been up half the night with the realization that she was right.
He did know who he wanted, but she wasn’t his to have.
In the end, he would have to do what he always did – make do.
You can’t always get what you want, indeed.
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bookworlders · 5 years
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chapter 3 - the wedding date
percabeth fake dating!au part 3!!! 
part 1 | part 2 | ao3 | FFnet
This pillow is way too comfortable.
That was Annabeth's first thought when she awoke to bright sunlight flashing in her eyes. She lay still, willing herself to go back to sleep before reality flooded into her brain, and she realized where she was. She blinked, the morning light streaming in through the windows of Cabin 3 and reflecting off the seaglass imbedded into the walls in iridescent fragments.
Her head had been resting on Percy's bare shoulder, their legs all tangled together. Most of the remains of her pillow wall were now on the floor next to the bed or squished under the blanket by their feet. Annabeth extracted herself slowly from his body, embarrassed that last night was probably one of the best sleeps over her life. It was the first time in months that she had slept through the night without waking up from nightmares. Her memory foam mattress back in her apartment had nothing on Percy.
Percy began to shift awake just as Annabeth placed the last of the pillow wall back into place. He blinked up at her sleepily before cracking that stupid, goofy grin of his. "Good morning."
Shit.Annabeth smothered the butterflies in her stomach that appeared at the thought of waking up to him every morning. "Morning," she muttered. Percy yawned widely as Annabeth asked, "What time is it?'
The blanket pooled at his waist as Percy sat up and searched the bedside table for his phone. Annabeth watched the way the muscles in his back rippled as he stretched an arm to check the time. "It is...hold on, a little past nine thirty."
"Shit!" Annabeth threw the blanket off, leaping out of the bed, "We overslept. Brunch is ten. Down by the pavilion." She roughly unzipped her bag and threw open her suitcase. "We can notbe late."
Percy raised his hands in surrender, "Got it. Do you mind if I hop in the shower?"
"Go! Just get ready, quickly!"
Annabeth heard the shower turn on as she extracted garment bag after garment bag from her suitcase. Where the fuck was her makeup bag!
"So, Annabeth," Percy's voice echoed off the bathroom tiles, "Who all is going to be there?"
Annabeth stripped out of her pajamas and searched for her strapless bra in her bags, "Basically everyone who went to camp with us. The whole wedding party. Parents. Everyone who was invited to the rehearsal dinner. Piper and Jason wanted to make a whole reunion weekend out of their wedding so everyone is pretty much." She wrenched her carryon open to find her heels.
"And do they know about 'us'?"
Annabeth peeled her dress, a flowy, ruffled number with spaghetti straps, out of the garment bag, grateful she packed with such care and the material hadn't wrinkled in transport.
"Um, Piper and Jason know I'm bringing a date. I don't know if they told anyone." Annabeth stepped into her dress as she heard the shower turn off, smoothing down the cinched waist and skirt that flowed out from her waist. Percy and a cloud of steam emerged back into the main room.
"Close your eyes! I'm changing." She struggled to get the zipper of her dress all the way up.
"Relax, just grabbing my clothes."
Annabeth hauled her toiletries over to the mirror and began to do a tasteful, daytime eyeshadow look as precisely and quickly as she could. She was almost done swiping on mascara that made her gray eyes pop when she spotted Percy over her shoulder in the mirror in gray slacks and a baby blue polo with the sleeves rolled up. The exact same baby blue as her dress.
"Oh no," she groaned.
"What? What's wrong?"
"We can't match!" Annabeth said, pausing doing her makeup. Currently, she only had one glossy, pink lip and one normal lip. "We can't be too matchy, matchy. It's like we're trying too hard. I need to change." She dropped her lipstick and began rummaging through her clothes again.
"No, no," Percy said, already unbuttoning his collar, "I'll change. That dress looks too good on you."
Annabeth flushed, but nodded as she began trying to tackle her hair. She wasn't sure if she was blushing because of the compliment or because Percy was changing into a different shirt right behind her. It really wasn't fair how great his face and his body looked. She huffed and began attacking her curls with bobby pins.
She had gone to bed with it wet so her golden curls were extra voluminous and unruly this morning. She attempted to tame it into a half up-half down do.
"Goddamn it!" Annabeth cursed as a particularly springy curl fell out of the pins back into her face.
"Hey," Percy said, crossing over to her. He had changed into a mint green polo. "It's just brunch. You look beautiful."
Annabeth stared as he stood behind her in the mirror and took a deep breath. Her skin looked incredibly tan and glowy against the soft blue of her dress, and her legs looked miles long in her heels. Her hair actually looked better than she thought, like a carefree beach girl. Percy, of course, looked straight out of a J. Crew ad—tall, lean, and just as tan as her with a mess of dark curls that should be illegal. His shirt complimented his eyes for gods' sake. They were quite the attractive pair together. Annabeth was sure getting her money's worth.
Annabeth felt Percy's hand brush against her neck as he zipped her dress up all the way. She nodded, "Right."
Percy rolled up his sleeves. His belt and shoes matched. Good.
"So what exactly am I walking into here?"
Annabeth turned to him, "The Nemean Lion's den." She walked out the door.
A dirt path led up the hill from the valley of cabins up to the dining pavilion. Only summer after summer of walking this route allowed Annabeth to navigate the ground in her heels. Percy followed her stride.
They were close enough now they could hear music and laughter. This was such a stupid idea. Not just hiring a fake boyfriend, but even coming at all. She should turn around and drive back home. Her palms were sweating. As they crested the hill, Percy rested his hand on the small of her back. She shot him a look.
Percy chuckled at her alarmed expression, "Relax, I'm supposed to be your boyfriend, remember? You look so nervous."
"I am nervous!" Annabeth craned her neck, trying to make out who was here already.
"Aren't these all your old friends?"
"Yes," she sighed, relaxing into him which each step towards the pavilion. "But it's, um, been awhile since I've seen everyone." She must admit it was nice having someone at her back. "Shit, I didn't even brush my teeth. We should go back," she turned, but Percy's grip on her waist tightened.
"Oh, no you don't." Percy slipped his hand into hers, and now he led them towards the party goers in the pavilion. "Come on, babe, introduce me to your family. Show me off." He teased.
Percy's nonchalance about this whole absurd situation did calm her. If he could act so cool about pretending to be her fake boyfriend in front of her closest friends and family then she could be cool about having hired him to do so. She took a deep breath, steeling herself and squaring her shoulders, "Right. Okay." Annabeth plastered a smile on her face and walked with Percy up to the pavilion.
It was crowded. And unrecognizable from the dining pavilion from her own camp days. The long tables that each cabin ate at during meals had been rearranged into two long buffets full of breakfast food. Wedding guests mingled in the middle. White and gold balloons and streamers adorned the columns of the open-aired pavilion.
A chorus of, "Annabeth!" "Hey, Chase!" and "Long time no see, Annabeth," rang out as soon as they were in view of the other guests. Annabeth's grip tightened on Percy's as she waved and smiled and greeted.
Annabeth noticed curious eyes immediately drawn to Percy, the tall, handsome newcomer. She had let go is his hand in order to give hugs and waves to her old campmates, and his hand adjusted automatically to the small of her back. His grasp was warm through the thin fabric of her dress, but the looks people were giving her made his handprint burn like fire.
"Annabeth!" The pair turned to see a guy in his early twenties, navigating through the crowd towards them. He wore charcoal gray suit with a salmon shirt, and had a blond crew cut.
"Hey, Malcolm," Annabeth grinned, giving her brother a hug.
"When did you get here? We expected you at dinner."
"Late last night. I couldn't get off work early so we took an evening train." Malcolm's gray eyes identical to her own shifted towards Percy when Annabeth said 'we.' "Percy, this is my brother Malcolm. Malcolm, this is my, um, Percy."
"I'm her boyfriend," Percy held out his hand, "Nice to meet you." Annabeth gulped, but relaxed when a grin broke out on Malcolm's tan face and he pulled Percy in one of those bro-hugs.
"Nice to meet you, Percy," Malcolm said, turning back to Annabeth, "Piper mentioned you were bringing a date last night, but we all thought she was joking."
"Thanks, I'm so flattered," Annabeth said, playfully punching his arm, "Where is the beautiful blushing bride anyway?"
"Probably calming down Groomzilla."
Annabeth laughed, "We should go say hi to them."
Malcolm nodded, grabbing a mimosa off of the drink table, "I'm gonna go help Chiron with the microphone. I think people have some speeches prepared for later."
Percy turned to Annabeth, his hand returning to her waist as Malcolm left, "He looks just like you, same expression and everything. It's like I can hear the clockwork in your brains turning when you both look at me."
Annabeth stared at him.
"Yeah! Just like that."
Annabeth smiled, "Our mom has really powerful genes. He's technically my half-brother, but she sent us both to camp here so we still grew up together."
"Yeah, it seems like this whole camp is like a family. I really like it."
Annabeth's chest felt warm with a sense of pride for her beloved camp when he said that. Or maybe it was the fact she was on her second mimosa by the time she saw Piper and Jason at the head of the dining pavilion.
Piper had her back to them as they approach. She was in a cream jumpsuit, all flowy and bohemian and very Piper. Her dark hair was down with its signature braids, and she had weaved in gold strands for the occasion. Jason looked even more like blond Clark Kent than usual in a white button down and navy slacks. They were in heated debate.
"Piper, a pre-wedding brunch is already not normal, we can't just have people making speeches and toasts all over the place."
"Drew wants to make a toast, so what? Would you rather my psycho sister have the mic during the reception?"
"Sorry to interrupt, but should I go tell someone the wedding's off?"
The bride and groom whipped around. "Annabeth!"
Annabeth squeezed Piper, tightly, "Hi, Pipes." She threw her arms around Jason, "How are you doing, Grace?"
"Not great, Chase, my wedding is going to get steamrolled by Drew Tanaka."
Annabeth laughed before remembering Percy behind her when she saw Piper's kaleidoscope eyes widen.
"Piper and Jason, this is Percy. Percy this is the bride and groom and my best friends, Piper and Jason."
"Nice to meet you, Percy' Piper said, warmly and charismatic as ever, though she seemed slightly starstruck by him.
"Good to meet you, Percy." When Jason and Percy shook hands, Annabeth felt the air tingle only the way it did when two Alpha males collided. She almost rolled her eyes.
"Congratulations, thanks for letting me crash."
"Of course, anyone who has Annabeth's approval is welcome at my wedding." A sparkle of mischief shone in Piper's eyes. Annabeth shot her a look.
"Did you guys eat already?" Piper asked, ignoring Annabeth.
"Not yet, we've just been doing our rounds and saying hi to everyone."
"See, Pipes, I told you we should've done a seated brunch, not this cocktail hour breakfast. It's like we're barbarians." Jason said, Piper rolled her eyes.
Percy said, "Buffets are the best, you made the right call."
"Oh, gods, my father is here," Piper said, her neck craning as she spotted a tall, ridiculously handsome man arrive at the pavilion's entrance on the opposite side. He had dark hair and copper skin just like Piper, but where she was all grace and slenderness, he was buff and massive. "I need to go make sure him and my mom stay away from each other." Piper muttered, "Actually more like keeping both of them away from all members of the opposite sex period. But go get food! I'll find you later, Annabeth." Piper was already on her way stalking towards her father and the most beautiful woman Percy had ever seen.
Jason followed in suit of his fiancée, "Nice meeting you, Percy. See you in a minute, Annabeth."
Percy glanced where Piper and Jason headed, "Isn't that—"
"Yep."
"And he's—"
"Yeah."
"Piper's father is Tristan McLean."
"Yes."
"Your best friend's dad is People Magazine's Sexiest Man Alive? As in box office smash hit Hercules?"
"Uh huh."
"Wow."
Annabeth cracked a smile, "Come on, let's go get food. I'm starving."
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ladyseaheart1668 · 5 years
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Endless Summer Book 4 : Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 40)
Description: Rourke’s shadow continues to loom over the Catalysts and the Northbridge Supers. But there is joy mixed in with their dread.
Tagging: @mysteli @whatmcsaid @xo-endlessmayhem-xo @endlesshero1122 @feartheendlesssummer @tigerbryn11
Chapter 40 : The Beauty of Winter
Diego
I admit to being nervous that something would go wrong in the process of obtaining our marriage license, but it seems Zahra did it again when she created Varyyn's legal identity, because nothing is questioned. We have our marriage license within an hour, with plenty of time to make it to the ceremony at the appointed time.
It's not a fancy ceremony, but I don't need it to be, and I'm pretty sure Varyyn feels the same. As far as I'm concerned, we've been married for six years, and this is really just a renewal of vows. Even the vows are of the traditional “to have and to hold” variety. Still, it's not nothing to exchange rings with the man I love and have us declared legally wed in front of witnesses. Obviously, there's no need for a reception, either. But I do manage to reserve the garden gazebo long enough for a few slow dances. I chose one song in particular, a Spanish-language love song that I heard a few years ago when it was performed by the choir at the college I was lecturing at for the semester. I bought their CD just for this song. As I sway gently in Varyyn's arms, my head resting on his shoulder, I let the lyrics wash over me.
Yo no naci sino para quereros;
Mi alma os ha cortado a su dedida;
Por hábito del alma misma os quiero.
Escrito está en mi alma vuestro gesto;
Yo lo leo tan solo que aun de vos
Me guardo enesto.
Quanto tengo confiesso yo deveros;
Por vos naci, por vos tengo la vida,
Y por vos é de morir y por vos  muero.
“This was a wonderful surprise, my darling,” Varyyn murmurs. I sigh happily, nuzzling his neck.
“I'm glad you think so. I'm glad I was able to pull it off, too. Allie and Jake helped, of course. And Zahra.”
“Do you regret at all that the rest of the Catalysts weren't present?”
“Nah. They were all at our real wedding. Besides, it's only a couple months until Sean and Michelle's wedding, and I wouldn't want to steal their thunder.”
“A fair point. Should we not tell them about this?”
“There's no need to keep it a secret. Zahra knows. We'll just let it come out naturally.” I pull back slightly so I can look him in the eye, letting my arms drape around his neck. I smile as I gaze into his eyes. “...Amor de mi alma...”
“ 'Love of my soul'?”
“That's the name of this song.” I peck his mouth with mine. “And it's what you are to me.”
“...I love you, my Diego. I don't know how I could have been so lucky to have found you...”
“You brought an army to the resort where I was staying and lassoed me right up.” I meant it as a joke, but he winces visibly. I take his face in my hands. A blue halo hovers around my fingers, barely detectable as they displace the light creating the hologram disguise. “Baby, you know I don't hold that against you, right?”
“...I know. You and I have had a long time to get past that. I am still so sorry for it. I won't ever forget the lessons I was taught over those six months. ...And I do not only mean English.”
“Well...that's a good thing. Lessons should be remembered. As long as you don't let guilt drown you.”
“I promise, if ever I am tempted to let guilt drown me, I think of my darling.”
There is nothing that needs to be said to that. I lean back into my husband's embrace, resting my head on his chest. I steal a glance over at Allie and Jake, gazing into each other's eyes as they sway. Her arms are around his neck and his fingers lace together at the small of her back, but they can't press in very close thanks to Allie's ever-expanding baby bump. The sight makes me smile.
I know trouble is coming. I don't think we're safe from Rourke. Not yet. But at least for now, everything is right with the world.
Alodia
So I get to spend my Saturday in Vegas. I get to watch my best friend be legally married to the love of his life, and I get to fall asleep that night beside mine. No one dies in my dreams that night. But I wake in the gray hours of the morning with vague memories of a journey home. It should have been simple and straightforward, just a straight shot driving down a long road, but somewhere along the way, the road twisted and turned dusty. I lie in bed with River swimming languidly in my womb, listening to Jake's soft breathing and the hum of the air conditioning as I carefully collect the scattered images of my dreams, laying them out in my brain like puzzle pieces.
They don't add up to much, and they're more than a little ridiculous now that I am awake. When the smooth stretch of paved highway that I drove down turned to a dusty dirt road, the sudden appearance of train tracks lead to a locomotive that seemed to actively pursue me like a smoke-belching dragon. At some point I escaped, but ended up driving on a track of rollercoaster instead. Somehow I must have exited the car, because the next thing I knew, I was at Hartfeld. My friends were all there, busy with classes and activities. I think Rourke was there, too. He was playing with beakers, rambling about something to do with the island, with the Endless, with Project Janus. But I was striding purposefully through the main halls, laser-focused still on getting home, convinced that all I had to do was keep going straight. I must have gotten home at some point, because the next I knew, I was in bed with Jake. But not here and now, in a Vegas hotel. It couldn't have been, because I wasn't pregnant. Instead, there was a form between us. Small and fair-skinned, like me and like Jake. Blue-eyed, of course, but with chestnut hair; a blend of my blonde and his sandy brown. A perfect blend of the two of us. I roll carefully to face Jake's peacefully sleeping form, scooting closer to drape my arm over him.
I've never actually been religious, not even in this timeline. And it's a little hard now to think of God in the traditional sense with what the Endless put the Vaanti through on her quest to protect us. But sometimes I can't help praying to whoever or whatever power might be listening.
Please... I send a thought out into the universe as I hold the image of the chestnut-haired child in my mind. Please let this be what I'm heading toward...
Jake
We do actually end up spending most of Sunday at Santa Monica Pier, which I don't regret. Exciting as Vegas is, it's nice to have a quieter day to close out the weekend. We play air hockey and pinball at the arcade, visit the aquarium, ride the ferris wheel, eat fries and sandwiches for lunch, and end the afternoon with ice cream and a walk along the docks.
The newlyweds are predictably eating more ice cream off each other's faces than their own cones. They may have been married and living together for the last five years, but I guess there's no escaping the giddy afterglow of a wedding. I'm kinda feeling it myself. When Varyyn and Diego finally manage to finish their cones, there's nothing left between them and passionately kissing and groping. In a blink, Varyyn has Diego's back pressed against a lamppost. I chuckle, bending to press a kiss to the curve of Alodia's neck.
“Those two seem to have forgotten us,” I murmur. “Wanna go get some sand between our toes?”
“Absolutely.”
We toss our cups into the trashcan and make our way down to the beach, taking off our shoes and socks to carry in hand as we walk.
“That was a real nice little wedding,” I remark. “Not sure it tops the first one, though.”
“Well, the first one had everyone there,” Alodia points out. “Though admittedly, you and I didn't get much chance to witness it, being a bit distracted.” She playfully kisses my cheek. I lace the fingers of my free hand through hers, and bend to kiss the top of her head.
“You ever think you might wanna do that someday? Get a license for the two of us and legally get hitched.”
She hesitates for a moment. “...Do you?”
I shrug. “Maybe. I ain't thinking it's a necessity, though there are practical advantages. I wasn't thinking it would be any time soon, either. Think we got enough on our plates as is with the baby due.”
She nods. The relief in the smile she gives me doesn't escape me. “Yeah. As fast as everything has been happening since I got back...I'm not sure I could handle a second wedding right now. Besides...as much as I know it's been more than five years for you...it hasn't been nearly as long for me.”
“No, I guess it hasn't. ...Guess it's like when we went through the portal and wound up six months ahead. We came out still looking like hell after the battle, and we found Diego with a beard and long hair.”
“Yeah. Exactly.” She sighs. “I think I'd like to live as husband and wife the way we were supposed to before we make it official out here.”
“...I seem to recall us making plans to have a little cottage on the island way back when. ...A mansion in Laguna Beach is a bit of a leap.”
“Well, not too much when you really think about it. If everything had stayed the way it was, we probably would have lived at the Celestial until our cottage got built. We'd have our friends around us...all of us together on our own private island...” She trails off, and I get the sense we're venturing into painful territory. I put my arm over her shoulders and pull her close to my side, kissing the top of her head.
“I guess it's a little too early for me to be thinking about how I'm gonna top this come Valentine's Day.”
She lays her head on my shoulder. “Come Valentine's Day, we'll be in Northbridge. All the Catalysts together again.”
“You just saw everyone two weeks ago. Miss them that much already?”
“Is that weird?”
I smile. “Nah. I miss 'em, too. It'll be good to see 'em again. Help with the last-minute prep for the wedding.”
She snorts. “And what kind of prep are you going to be doing? From what I hear, while I'm getting fitted for my bridesmaid dress, you and the men are going to be having wild times at the bachelor party Craig's planning.”
“Mmm, yeah. And knowing him, it will be a properly debauched affair.”
“Knowing the groom, it won't be too debauched, or else Craig will never hear the end of it.”
“You're right. Sean's a decent, modest sort of man.” I smile at her and she smiles back. She sighs, and the sound is content. I put an arm over her shoulders and she nestles into me. “...I'm not, though. I'm a lowlife lecher.”
She snorts. “Yeah, right. After five years, it's a miracle I don't have jealous ex-lovers assaulting me every day for stealing you away.”
“Of course not. They all hate me so much, they're just secretly shaking their heads, thinking you're just my latest poor victim.”
“And none of them have come forward to warn me? That's not very...” She trails off and doesn't say anything long enough that I frown.
“Very what?” I prompt.
She lifts her head, turning to look at my face. “...Jake...I think...I've had a thought about how Rourke...how he disappeared.”
I reflexively glance around, making sure we're not in earshot of anyone who might give us funny looks. I take her shoulders gently and kiss her forehead. “Not here. Tell us all together in the car.”
* * *
The atmosphere is anxious as we buckle ourselves in and I start the car. She told Diego and Varyyn the same thing she told me. That she's had a thought about how Rourke faked his death.
“What's your thought, Alodia?” Varyyn asks.
“Do you remember that...demonstration Rourke gave us when we got to MASADA? When Sean and Zahra and Craig and I were disguised as Arachnid? You know, the thing he did with the beakers and the liquified crystal?”
“...Yeah...” Diego confirms. “...Kinda.”
“I have an image in my mind of him plucking a full beaker out of thin air. He talked about the Endless being able to do that herself. And...I know he was right. What if he found away to do that himself?”
“But...how? How would he do that?”
“The same way he did it with the beakers. ...And possibly the same way the Endless did it. With the crystals.”
Varyyn shakes his head. “No...no, the time crystals were not strong enough. Only the Island's Heart had enough power.”
“He has the Prism Crystal now. That's made from my life energy. And I'm the missing piece of the Island's Heart. Not to mention the Endless. ...I think the Prism Crystal has enough power.”
“To do what exactly?” I ask. “Pluck himself out of the air like a beaker?”
“Well, that's a phrase I never thought I'd hear,” she quips. “But...yeah. Basically. ...I think the Prism Crystal could have enough power to allow Rourke to pluck another version of himself out of time and space. And kill that one. Or...apparently, make that one kill himself.”
“...And Daddy Weirdbucks is fucking twisted enough that I bet he could convince an alternate version of himself to commit suicide if it would put him toward his purpose,” I growl. “One problem with that theory, Princess, is that he doesn't have the Prism Crystal. I'm pretty sure Tahira would have told you if he'd gotten ahold of it.”
“What about Liquid Prism?”
“...I guess...if he managed to get his grimy paws on that stuff, he could find a way to use it...”
“And it's definitely possible he found a way to get some,” Diego murmurs, a tremor in his voice. “I've never stopped believing he had other lackeys running around doing his bidding.”
Alodia nods. “I'll call Tahira first thing when we get home.”
“It's gonna be three hours later for her than for us.”
“I know she won't mind. Not for something this important.”
* * *
I think Tahira was in bed when we called, but Alodia's right. She doesn't mind being bothered. We sit in the kitchen with her on speaker and tell her about our theory.
“I don't know anything about how Rourke could have gotten his hands on Liquid Prism. But it is possible it wasn't all off the streets before he disappeared.” She's quiet for a moment. “It's kind of a coincidence that you called tonight. The thing is...there have been some developments here. Caleb warned us of two pretty formidable criminals who have their eyes on the Prism Crystal. The Crystal is safe at the moment. But...just a few hours ago, Grayson told me that an entire crate of Liquid Prism has gone missing from the lab.”
Zahra
“Well, fuck me sideways...” I sit back in the chair in Santiago Lupo's office, reviewing his security tapes. “There's...nothing. Nothing at all. It's like they're ghosts. And the security systems weren't tripped at all?”  
“That's why Mr. Prescott insisted we make contact with you,” Santiago says. “He thinks the systems might have been hacked, and apparently, you're a genius with security systems and...figuring out if they have been hacked...”
“Well, he's not wrong. ...I have to wonder if this footage has been doctored at all. I can't see any sign of it right away.”
“Maybe they're using stealth suits,” Grayson suggests. “Dax was working on something like that.”
“Yeah,” I murmur. “I've encountered technology like that before myself.”
Of course, we both know he's referring to the same stealth suit that Eva claims to have 'borrowed indefinitely.' But I'm thinking of someone else. Someone who once put a katana to my back and demanded the Island's Heart. Still, I don't think stealth suits alone would be enough to pull off a heist like this. I'm looking at security footage that shows the liquid prism being locked away in a safe for the night, and then goes to the next morning when the lab tech returns to set everything up, only to discover the stuff missing. The door to the safe never even opens on the footage I'm looking at.
“There's gotta be something we're missing here,” I muse aloud. “Leave this footage with me. I'll go over it with a fine-toothed comb. I'll figure out what we're looking at.”
Caleb
It feels weird to be meeting Tahira in the underground Prescott facility where we were both prisoners, but as she pointed out, it's safe. It's not currently in use, and it's unlikely anyone who isn't in on our secrets is going to find us here.
I light up and take a drag, exhaling smoke as I lean against the smooth metal-enforced wall. Tahira looks at the cigarette between my fingers with faint distaste, but she doesn't say anything.
“...So, it was just the liquid that went missing?” I ask. “The crystal's safe?”
“It's safe. We've got it protected.” She pauses. “You don't suppose there's any chance your...associates are behind this, do you?”
“They came in and got out without leaving a trace. If Gigi or Stonewall has that ability, I don't know about it. Don't think it's their style, either. In their own separate ways, they both like to leave impressions. They want to be noticed.”
“I can see why they thought you'd fit in, then,” she quips. I make a face.
“Low blow, hero. Accurate, but low.” I take another drag. “In any case, I'll keep my eyes and ears open. If that liquid prism hits the streets, it won't be long before news starts filtering through the underground.”
“Honestly, having it on the streets isn't what worries me.”
“No?”
“That stealth tech they may have been using? ...Minuet has Dax's only working stealth suit at the moment. ...But...” She trails off into a loaded silence.
“...But...what?” When she still doesn't answer after awhile, I press further. “You think it might be an inside job? Someone who has access to his research?”
“...I guess that is a possibility...”
“But it's not the one you were thinking of?”
She sighs. “Talos and Minuet would say I shouldn't share this with you...but...Dax isn't the only one who was working on stealth tech. There was a branch of the military that had access to a stealth suit at least five years before Dax's version was perfected.”
“And...you know this how?”
“I have my sources. But that's all you're getting for now.” She frowns, her left hand drifting to cover the wristband secured just above the joint on her right forearm. “...Hang on a sec. Someone's calling.”
“Right. Secret hero stuff. Should I plug my ears?”
“I'll just take it in the next cell,” she replies with a smirk. She steps out of sight, and I hear her murmuring to whoever has contacted her. When she comes back, her expression has turned dark.
“Big trouble, I'm assuming?”
“Not sure. Minuet's found something that concerns her.”
“Something to do with the liquid prism?”
“Worse,” she says grimly. “Seems a young woman approached her outside the hospital and left some strong hints that she had been the victim of something organized and ugly, and that she wasn't the only one. Minuet's worried she's talking about human trafficking.”
“...That's not outside the realm of possibility,” I concede. “Plenty of fucks who'll take advantage of the desperate and vulnerable. Saw enough of that in my time.”
“And did nothing to stop it, I assume.”
“Hey! I never claimed to be a hero, but I've never been a bully, either. I've never gone after anyone who couldn't fight back.”
“But those people still end up getting hurt,” she retorts. “Remember the little girl who almost burned to death when you attacked the DMV?”
I scowl. Her assessment of me smarts in spite of everything. “Okay, fine. I'm scum. Guess I should leave you to go be a hero.”
“I certainly don't have any time to waste. I'll see you around, Caleb.”
“Right.”
She leaves. For awhile, I debate following her. I flip-flop long enough that my window of opportunity undoubtably closes. It's getting late by the time I leave. Late enough that I should start figuring out where to sleep. The January night air is bitterly cold, and I hunker down in my coat, pulling the collar up over my face. Definitely a night for the homeless shelter. Sleeping in my van will likely result either in me freezing to death or setting the damn thing on fire to keep warm.
There aren't many people out on the streets. At least, not in the neighborhoods I'm walking in. Not much nightlife around here. I do recognize one person that I pass on the sidewalk. Kenji Katsaros, son of the DA. What he's doing in this neighborhood, I don't know. It's pretty late for photo ops, and philanthropy isn't really his style, either. That's more Grayson Prescott's thing. Ahh, but what do I care. He's not bothering me, just blabbing on his phone. ...Whatever he's talking about, it's clearly troubling him. He steps aside for me as we pass, but barely looks at me.
“Yeah...I'll make sure Mom knows. ...Right. …Be careful, Tahira.”
The name stops me in my tracks. I turn back to look at him, but he's walking on, his back to me, totally unaware of my presence. My thoughts start to race too fast for me to follow, like there's a bomb going off in my head, or a power surge or a short circuit that leaves only intuition functioning. I can barely understand what I'm thinking. All I know is I should follow him. I'm good enough to do it without him realizing.
I really don't know why I'm doing it. I don't actually know what language the name Tahira comes from—Turkish, maybe?—but I'm sure she's not the only Tahira in the whole city of Northbridge. But I happen to know that Kenji Katsaros is closely associated with the Tahira I know. They work together at The Grand. Also, he's heading towards the DA's office. Which makes sense, if he's going to let his mother know something. But why doesn't he just call her?
Not far from city hall, Kenji abruptly ducks into an alley. A narrow path between the buildings that could be serving for a shortcut...except that he's supposed to be going to the DA's office. I press myself flush against a wall and ease myself into the alley a safe distance behind him, keeping to the shadows. He almost certainly never realizes I'm there, because in the next moment, his skin turns to bronze, and everything falls into place.
Well, shit. ...Kenji Katsaros is Talos.  
I make it to the shelter, but I don't remember getting there. I get myself a bed, but I don't really sleep. I guess that explains why he hates me more than either Tahira or Minuet do. I tried to kill his mom. Fuck. That means winning his trust is going to be a lot harder than I realized.
I think it's going to be to my advantage to lie low for awhile. At least until I figure out what I'm going to do with this information.
Eva
The next couple weeks seem to pass very quickly. Tahira, Kenji, and I have our hands full for awhile with the trafficking ring, but let's face facts, its days were numbered once we got wind of it. By February, it's been shut down, and the three of us meet with Dax and Poppy at The Grand to celebrate. Tahira helps me get home afterward, but once I get there and climb into bed, I can't sleep. Of course, that doesn't entirely surprise me. Dad has a doctor's appointment in the morning. I never sleep well before his doctor's appointments.
He's actually been doing really well. Thanks to Tahira helping me expose Mayhew, we were able to afford experimental treatments. He went into remission not long after we got Tahira back from the crystal dimension, and since then, the doctors tell me that everything has continued to be encouraging. But I can't relax. No matter how encouraging his scans, I can't shake the feeling that my father is living on borrowed time. And for all that I can put people in slow motion...I can't actually slow time down.
We arrive at the hospital's outpatient clinic with plenty of time for Dad to playfully flirt with the receptionists. He charms them as usual, and when we're taken back, we leave the waiting room in a cloud of good humor.
“You have the entire staff of this place wrapped around your finger, Dad,” I remark as I help him into a hospital gown. “I guess it helps that you flirt like it's going out of style.”
“Life is short, mija,” he says with a grin. “I will live every moment with gusto.”
My hands pause on the strings of the gown. “...I wish you wouldn't say things like that at a time like this.”
“...I'm sorry, mija. That was insensitive of me. All this is so much harder on you than on me.”
“Is it really, though? You're the one who's gone through all the pain and sickness.”
“That is difficult, it is true. But I think it is easier for me to endure than for you to watch. ...And the thought that I might die almost certainly frightens you more than it frightens me.”
“How much does it frighten you?”
He shrugs. “I don't want to die. You're still young enough that I had hoped to see many more years with you. But I don't worry about it like I would if you were still a little girl and I were leaving you without parents. You're a strong, capable young woman. And if I die in the near future, I will die with confidence that you will be all right.”
I don't say anything to that. I finish tying his gown and put my arms around his shoulders to kiss his cheek.
Not long after, the medical shenanigans get underway, and conversation becomes functional. At the end of it, the doctors are smiling, and it seems my father is still doing well. As he gets dressed, my father smiles at me with a twinkle in his eye.
“When you were a little girl and I took you to the doctor, you always got ice cream afterwards if you were brave. I think we have both been very brave today. What do you say? Do we deserve ice cream?”
“Ice cream in February?”
“I won't tell if you don't.”
So of course, thirty minutes later, we're in the glass-ceilinged atrium of Northbridge Mall, sitting on a bench in front of the fountain and watching the bubble and flow from the jets while we methodically lick the sweet, creamy heads of our ice cream cones.
“Almost like having a summer moment indoors,” my father remarks.
“If you ignore the Valentine's Day decorations and the snow outside,” I reply, gesturing up at the skylights, where a steady swirl of snowflakes is clearly visible. “I wish it were summer. I'm getting sick of winter.”
“I am grateful for winter,” Dad murmurs. “Because at this moment, it is winter. And I am grateful for this moment.”
I look back down at my cone. I dig a chunk of cookie dough out of the small vanilla hill with the nail of my index finger.
“Is that the secret to happiness then? Just be grateful for the moment?”
“I don't think it's a secret, mija. Or a guarantee of happiness. But it is how I have chosen to live since I got sick. The fact is that everyone's time is limited. Mine might be more limited than I once expected. But right now, I am alive. I am alive, and I find that this moment is worth living. ...I look forward to summer. But right now it is winter. And winter is beautiful in its own way. I won't ignore the beauty that exists now because I am waiting for something that is yet to come.”
I sigh, slipping my arm through his and laying my head on his shoulder. I feel him kiss the top of my head lightly. He has an undeniable point. I can't actually slow down time. I won't try to rush it either. It's winter, my father is alive, and I have a sugar cone topped with cookie dough ice cream. Right now, that's all I need.
Michelle
Friday morning, I wake up an hour before my alarm. I should be irritated. I don't even have to be up with my alarm, considering that I have the day off. I only set the damn thing to keep some semblance of a routine in place. But I'm not actually annoyed at all. It's excitement that has me awake so early. Today, my friends arrive from California. They're here so that my maid of honor and Sean's last couple groomsmen can have their final fittings at the tailors. It needs to be done now so that if there are any adjustments that need to be made, we'll have time to make them. I roll towards Sean, still dead to the world and snoring a little, and drape my arm over him.
In only a little over a month, I am finally going to be his wife.
*****************************************************************************************
BTW, the song Diego and Varyyn dance to is a real song. It is called Amor de mi Alma, and it is beautiful.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R0xtyjJ8eYo
Also, here is a translation.
I was born to love only you; My soul has formed you to its measure; I want you as a garment for my soul. Your very image is written on my soul; Such indescribable intimacy I hide even from you. All that I have, I owe to you; For you I was born, for you I live, For you I must die, and for you I give my last breath.
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