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I Don't Want To Miss A Thing

Chapter Eleven of Blast From The Past

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Rating: 18+

Word Count: 3k+

Summary: Din spends some time with Dinah, and she gets to know him a little more.

Warnings: ANGST angst angst angst, language, fluff, slow burn, mutual pining

Song: I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing by Aerosmith

Author's Note: Wow, it’s been a longggggggg time since I’ve posted an update. Life has gotten pretty crazy for me lately, and I’m sure you’ve been waiting for an update to this story for a while! Don’t worry, I haven’t abandoned this fic!

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Din’s POV

After his conversation with you, Din was lost and unsure what to do.

He had told you the truth of why he had left.

He had apologized.

And he had shown you his face, yet it was not enough.

Din knew that it would take time for you to come to terms with everything. After all, you had every right to be upset with him. But how long that would last was a different matter entirely.

Start small, he thought to himself. Din resolved to start with little things, gifts to show you that he was serious about staying and winning your affection back.

Maybe find a way to spend some time with her and Dinah.

He scrounged through his brain to remember the little things you liked, and he smiled at one of the first memories he had regarding your interests.

―FLASHBACK―

Din had been off tracking his latest quarry but had no luck that day, and he begrudgingly made the trek back to the Crest. As he lowered the ramp, he spotted you polishing his pulse rifle, and he felt a warmth bubble in his chest. He liked the way you looked at handling his weapon, and he inwardly chuckled at himself at his statement, and he willed his mind to crawl out of the gutter.

“No luck?” you spoke, and he felt your eyes trail after him as he began to climb the ladder to the cockpit.

“No,” he replied, slightly grumpy at the lack of progress with the bounty.

“I’m sure you’ll find them soon,” you reassured him, following him up the ladder. He took a seat in the passenger’s chair, thankful that you knew how to pilot the Crest, as he wanted a few moments to decompress as much as possible, although your presence sometimes made that difficult. He knew he had budding feelings for you but knew he would never act on them, though that did not prevent his mind from wandering. As you took a seat in the pilot’s chair, you looked at him questioningly, and he motioned for you to go to a different location on the planet. You nodded and quickly began to guide the Crest to another part of the sphere, and as the ship flew over a waterfall, Din heard you let out a sigh.

“What is it?” he inquired, curious at your reaction to the sight of the waterfall.

“Nothing,” came your reply, and he saw through your attempt at sounding nonchalant. He hummed in response, waiting for you to continue just like he knew you would.

“I just,” you spoke, pausing to release a sigh, “I used to draw as a child back on Corellia.” Your words caught Din off guard, and he looked at you through his visor, wanting to hear more.

“Whenever I had a chance, I could scribble down the image of a waterfall, sometimes imagining that I was sitting at the edge of a lake and just watching the water ripple over each other.” Din saw the faraway look in your eyes and closed his eyes, picturing the waterfall you had just flown over, a soft smile gracing his lips as he listened to your voice.

She wants to draw waterfalls and probably sunsets.

Interesting.

The sweet melody of your words gently pulled him to sleep, and he was shortly pulled into a light slumber before he could hear the rest of what you were saying.

―END FLASHBACK―

Din’s lip quirked as the memory, recalling how your eyes sparkled every time you would speak of waterfalls or sunsets, shamelessly telling him of your dream to sit on the shore of a lake and capture the beauty of the world around you. The thought of giving you what you had dreamed of came to him, and he instantly knew what his first gift to you would be.

A sketchbook.

Tracking down a vendor that sold sketchbooks was not a simple task, but Din managed to find one. He had taken his time studying the unique designs on each cover until one caught his eye. A leather-bound sketchpad sat on the corner of a table, an elaborate pattern of a forest and flowers on the front cover and a waterfall flowing into a lake on the back.

It’s perfect.

He hastily bought the sketchbook and several other items and made his way back to his ship. Once aboard the vessel, he took a seat in the cargo hold and began to write a list of other gifts to give you before composing a note to include with the sketchpad. Din sat and thought long and hard about what to say, wanting to make it as heartfelt as possible. After a few moments, he finally put pen to paper and began to scribble down his love letter.

That should be enough, he thought, looking down at his handiwork. Din started to assemble the present, gently slipping his note inside the book and placing both into a box with a small sigh.

Now the question is, when do I give it to her?

―THREE DAYS LATER―

Three days came and went when Din finally decided to drop off the first of several gifts to you. Just as the hues of the sun began to peek over the horizon, he found himself awkwardly standing at your doorstep, clad in his armor, box in hand. He could hear you getting Dinah ready for the day, your voice sleepily ringing throughout your home, and a small smile crept onto his face.

It’s now or never.

Hesitantly, he lifted his hand and made to knock on your door but stopped.

Kriff, should I hand it to her or just leave it here?

No, she would probably throw it at me if I gave it to her.

Din let out a sigh, set the package down, and straightened himself back up. He stared at your door for another moment, contemplating if he was making a huge mistake, but then made up his mind and softly knocked. Not wanting to risk the chance of you opening the door to find him still positioned there, he quickly walked away and posted himself far enough away to see you but hidden from your sight. He watched the entrance slide open and his breath caught in his throat as you appeared and spotted his gift on the ground. Din’s heart loudly beat in his chest at the way your hair swept across your face with the light breeze, and your eyes darted around the street, trying to find the source of the mysterious package outside your home. He patiently waited for you to pick up the box and retreat inside before making his exit, hoping and praying that you wouldn’t throw it into the trash.

That would make tomorrow’s peace offering completely useless.

As Din walked through the town, a vendor stand caught his attention, and he changed course for it. He studied the assortment of objects and, after some deliberation, decided on one in particular. Din bought the new surprise and continued on his way through the village, stopping by now and then to buy supplies and a few more gifts he knew you would appreciate. At least he hoped you would appreciate them.

This next week is going to be a busy one.

He dropped off a brand-new set of colored pencils and charcoal the next day and a bouquet the day after that. However, this time he included a gift for Dinah, a plushie of a porg, with a floral arrangement. His heart warmed as he imagined her reaction to seeing the new toy, and he wanted nothing more than to be there to witness it.

Maybe someday.

The day after the flowers and plushie, he left a bag of apples and oranges, chuckling to himself, knowing there was no way in you would toss your favorite fruits away. The day after that, a package of your favorite sweets. Din always included a note with each gift, and he made sure to mention a memory or the reasoning behind the gift.

Several days after leaving you the candy, he was making his way through the market when he felt a tug on his glove. He gazed down and saw his daughter standing next to him, shyly clutching the tip of his gloved finger.

“Hello, little one,” he greeted, and Dinah grinned.

“Hi, Din!”

“What are you doing out and about?” he asked, crouching down to her level.

“I was looking for you,” she exclaimed but suddenly turned shy. “I wanted to say thank you for the plushie.”

“You’re welcome,” he kindly spoke, his tone laced with a smile.

“Why are you wearing your armor?” she inquired, tilting her head in curiosity.

Blunt and to the point.

As always.

“I have a few jobs to do, and it’s safer if I wear it,” he answered.

“A job? Like catching bad guys?”

“Not quite,” he said with a chuckle. “Just keeping an eye on some people.”

It’s not exactly a lie.

In reality, Din had felt uneasy the last few days, as if someone were watching him, so he had decided to don his armor again, ensuring his helmet sat securely on his head every time he left his ship.

“Oh, okay,” Dinah acknowledged, eyes cast downward. “I was wondering….”

“Yes?”

“Um – would I – um – do you – um – could I spend the day with you?” The little girl shuffled her feet nervously, unsure how the man would respond to such a request. Din was surprised at her question and did not know how to answer it.

Does she know who I am to her?

“Is your mother alright with that?” he finally asked, not wanting to give you yet another reason to hate him.

“Mhm!” Dinah stated, arms now behind her back as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. Of course, it was a blatant lie, but Din did not want to cause any more strife between the two of you.

I’ll bring her by in a bit.

“Well then,” he began, “I don’t see why not. What would you like to do?” Din watched in amusement as his daughter twisted her mouth here and there.

“Um – I – I want to know about your adventures!” she finally proclaimed. Din raised his eyebrows beneath the helmet, not expecting that.

“Uh – sure,” he responded as he stood up. “Let’s go somewhere quiet. What do you think?” She nodded and laced her tiny fingers with his, and Din’s throat grew tight.

Was this what things could be like one day?

The two of them navigated through the streets toward his ship, and once they arrived, Dinah’s eyes grew wide with awe.

“Is this yours?!” she excitedly asked, releasing his hand, and running up the now open ramp. He trailed behind her with a chuckle and nodded.

“It sure is.”

“Wow. We have one too, but it doesn’t look like this!” Din leaned against the wall, eyes following her little figure as she walked around and examined every detail of the small cargo hold. It was a sight to behold, one that he committed to memory in case he did not get another opportunity to spend time with his child.

My daughter.

Dinah continued to scurry around the ship, taking everything in as Din took a seat on a box.

“It’s so pretty,” she said, taking a seat beside him. Then, after a moment, she pointed to something in the corner. “What’s that?”

“What?” he asked, looking to where she pointed. “That’s the refresher.”

“Oh,” she replied, disappointed that it wasn’t anything interesting. As she looked at Din, she noticed the assortment of weapons he carried and stretched out a hand to poke his blaster. Din flinched at the action, unsure how he felt about his daughter touching something so dangerous.

“I don’t think you should be touching that,” he spoke. “It’s dangerous.” Dinah giggled and withdrew her hand.

“Mommy has a big one like this,” she retorted, rolling her eyes, “And I’ve seen her use it.” Din sighed at her statement.

For a six-year-old, she sure is sassy.

“Well, you should still be careful, little one,” he said. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Okay,” she answered, looking around the ship some more. It was silent for a moment before she spoke again. “So, you do you catch bad guys and send them to jail?”

“Not exactly.”

“But you catch bad guys, right?”

“Yes.”

“What do you do with them?”

“I – uh – I take them to – well, I guess you could say that I take them to a jail of sorts.”

“That’s so cool!” Din awkwardly scratched the back of his neck at her enthusiasm.

“I suppose.”

“What’s that?” Dinah asked, pointing to something else on his waist. He looked down and saw her pointing at the Darksaber.

Of all things to ask about it.

He let out a long breath, composing his thoughts before answering the little girl’s question.

“It’s – um – it’s called a Darksaber,” he responded.

“Like a lightsaber?”

“Of sorts.”

“Why does it look like that? Aren’t lightsabers supposed to be pretty colors?”

“It’s not a regular one.”

“How come?”

“I’m – I’m not quite sure,” Din said.

“How did you get it?” Din’s eyes widened at her question. He was already uncomfortable talking about his weapons, and the painful memories of the Child came to mind with her inquiry.

“Uh – well,” he began, “I had to rescue someone very important to me.”

“Really?! Like an adventure?!” Dinah exclaimed, eyes teeming with excitement.

“I’m not sure I’d call it that, but sure,” he replied.

“Will you tell me about it?” the little girl pressed, “Momma always tells me stories before bed, and rescues are always so cool!” Din let out a heavy sigh, a quiet hiss breaking the silence as he removed his helmet and nodded at her plea. Within the confines of the ship, Din felt comfortable enough in its absence, especially when in the company of his daughter, who had already seen his face.

“Well, it started when…,” Din began.

―FLASHBACK―

Din stepped off the ship, blaster raised in preparation for an attack as he scanned the hanger for any threats. He stealthily snuck through the quiet halls of the base when he heard voices and hid in the shadows as two stormtroopers ran by.

“We’re heading to the bridge now.” Once they had passed, Din continued to make his way up the corridor until he reached the entrance to the chamber with the Darktroopers but found that the door was already open.

Dank farrik.

He quickly inserted the cylinder that began to override the door and make it shut, but one Darktrooper managed to catch it and throw him back, his body hitting the wall with a thud. Din fired at the machine as it marched toward him, but it was no use. The droid caught his arm, knocking the blaster out of his hand, and lifted him to his feet as it pulled its arm back and punched his helmet. Din shut his eyes in panic, bracing himself for the possible end at the hands of a droid, but as metal met Beskar, he opened his eyes and saw that his helmet had done its job, stopping the impact and protecting his face.

Unfortunately, the armor did nothing to prevent the machine’s relentless assault from pushing his head into the wall, and he yelped in pain as the pipe behind him burst, sending steam out, blocking part of the droid’s view. Din saw his opening and turned on his flamethrower, but it proved ineffective as the droid turned its head and flung him across the hallway. Din looked up, and his eyes widened, seeing the glass windows of the door that stopped the rest of the Darktroopers beginning to crack under the pounding of their fists. Din attempted to reach the lever that would blow the robots into space but was too slow. The droid grabbed his leg and slid him away from the panel across the floor. He tried to get up but was swiftly kicked in the stomach, sending him flying back, and felt the familiar pings of blaster shots landing on his armor.

The whispering birds!

With a flip of his wrist, Din launched little projectiles at the approaching machine before spinning around, gracefully grabbing his Beskar spear and piercing the Darktrooper through its neck. Sparks flew from the robot as it began to shut down, and with a final twist of the spear, Din pulled its head off, its body falling onto the floor with a metallic thud. He hastily walked up to the panel, glancing at the window as the cracks grew, and finally pulled the lever, sending the red-eyed figures into space. He breathed a sigh of relief as he continued down the hallways searching for the Child.

To his luck, it did not take long as he spotted two stormtroopers standing guard in front of a door.

Bingo.

He silently snuck up to the two, hitting one on the arm with his spear before impaling the other through the stomach in one fluid motion. Wasting no time, he placed the first stormtrooper in a hold, wedging the rod against the man’s neck and began to choke him, the soldier’s feet no longer on the ground as he struggled before a loud snap ended his thrashing. Din dropped the body and placed the pointed weapon on his back before opening the door and drawing his blaster. The sight that greeted him made the man abruptly stop, his blood running cold as he saw Moff Gideon threateningly holding a dark, whirring blade over Grogu’s head.

Is that the Darksaber Bo-Katan spoke of?

The Child looked up at Din with a sad coo and slightly lifted his bound hands. Din stepped forward but stopped as Moff Gideon spoke.

“Drop the blaster. Slowly.”

Din narrowed his eyes at the men through his visor as he slowly set it down.

“Now kick it over to me.” Din followed as instructed, the gun sliding across the floor away from him as Moff Gideon watched. “Very nice.”

“Give me the kid,” Din said.

“The kid is just fine where he is,” the Moff responded and waved the blade around Grogu’s head, the foundling turning his head away at the action. “Mesmerizing, isn’t it? Used to belong to Bo-Katan.”

Din looked on in silence, surprised that the man knew who Bo-Katan was.

“Yes. I know you’ve been traveling with Bo-Katan. A friendly piece of advice, assume that I know everything. Like the fact that your wrist launcher has fired its one and only salvo.”

Dank farrik, he’s good.

“Where is this going?” Din asked, beginning to grow agitated at the man.

“This is where it’s going. I’m guessing that Bo-Katan and her boarding party have arrived at the bridge, seeking me, or more accurately, this,” Gideon answered, holding up the sword. “But I’m not there. And I imagine that they’ve killed everyone on the bridge, being the murderous savages that they are. And now, they’re beginning to panic.”

Din’s gaze drifted to the Child as he cooed and looked down.

“You see, she wants this. Do you know why? Because it brings power. Whoever wields this sword has the right to lay claim to the Mandalorian throne.”

“You keep it. I just want the kid,” Din replied, growing more annoyed with each passing moment.

“Very well,” the Moff said as he pressed a button on the hilt and the blade retracted, “I’ve already got what I want from him. His blood. All I wanted was to study his blood. This Child is extremely gifted and has been blessed with rare properties that have the potential to bring order back to the galaxy.”

Din glanced down at the Child, knowing his words were true. Grogu was indeed gifted.

“I see your bond with him,” Moff Gideon spoke, his tone slightly changing, as if the man cared, “Take him, but you will leave my ship immediately, and we will go our separate ways.”

Din approached Grogu and began to pick him up, but the sudden sound of the Darksaber powering up and a blow landing on his jetpack threw him slightly off balance as he turned to shield the Child. The Moff came at him, swipe after swipe, the pings of the sword meeting steel filling the air, as Din held his arms up to block the impact of his assailant’s blade. Din backed away with each hit, drawing Gideon into the hallway and away from Grogu, and spun around the man to escape his reach. Din took a moment and then remembered that he had the spear, drawing it from his back, and prepared himself.

The two men lunged at each other, blade and metal meeting with a clang. Moff Gideon continuously swung the sword at Din, but he blocked each attack and managed to land a kick before throwing an attack of his own. They exchanged several more blows before Din launched his cable at the Moff, wrapping him in the wire that was easily cut through by the Darksaber.

Each strike Gideon tried to land was easily blocked, but Din saw a small opening and used his forearm to stop the next attack before thrusting the spear toward Gideon’s chest. The man caught it, but Din pushed him back, kicking him in the leg and knocking him against the wall. Din went for the kill, charging at the man, but he stopped again. However, this time Gideon made the mistake of pushing the tip away from him and toward the wall, placing it in the perfect position for Din to disarm him. The Darksaber flew across the air and landed with a thud, the blade disappearing with a whiz. With the man now disarmed, Din landed a hit to his face and knocked him down, and as he tried to get up, Din pointed the end of his spear at the man’s neck.

“You’re sparing my life?” Gideon asked with a smirk, “Well, this should be interesting.”

“Get up,” Din commanded, pulling the man to his feet and placing cuffs around his wrists. Knowing the man was too tired to try and escape, Din walked into the room and fetched Grogu, gingerly removing the cuffs and tossing them aside before picking him up and cradling him. Upon exiting the room, Din’s eye fell on the discarded weapon on the other end of the hall, and he strode over to pick it up carefully. Pressing the button to reveal the dark blade as it whooshed to life, he curiously waved the blade around, listening to the gentle hum as it cut through the air. A grunt from the Moff cut off his thoughts, and Din, not wanting to waste any time, nudged the man’s side with his foot.

“Let’s go,” Din commanded. Moff Gideon put up no resistance, and the two began to make their way toward the bridge.

After walking down several corridors, they finally arrived at the blast doors that led to the bridge, and with a final shove to Gideon’s back, the door opened, and the man stumbled through. As they walked in, Bo-Katan greeted them, but she did not look pleased.

“What happened?” the woman asked.

“He brought him in alive, that’s what happened,” Cara answered, greeting the Child tenderly, “And now the New Republic’s gonna have to double the payment.”

“That’s not what she’s talking about,” Moff Gideon cut in, drawing everyone’s attention, “Why don’t you kill him now and take it?”

Not liking what he was implying, Cara pushed the man to the ground, and he grinned as he looked up at Din.

“It’s yours now.”

“What is?” Din questioned.

“The Darksaber. It belongs to you,” came his reply. Bo-Katan’s eyes narrowed at the man’s words, and Din turned the weapon off and approached.

“Now,” he said, holding it out for her to take, “it belongs to her.”

“She can’t take it,” the Moff continued with glee at the predicament the woman was facing, “It must be won in battle. In order for her to wield the Darksaber again, she would need to defeat you in combat.”

“I yield,” Din stated, still holding the weapon out to her, “It’s yours.”

“Oh, no,” Gideon chuckled as he stood up to face Din, “It doesn’t work that way. The Darksaber doesn’t have power. The story does. Without that blade, she’s a pretender to the throne.”

“He’s right,” Bo-Katan finally said, conflict shining in her eyes at the desire to take the Darksaber and reclaim her throne and the defeat knowing that she had not earned it.

“Come on, just take it,” Din pushed. The woman looked down at the blade and back at him, but the shrill tone of the alarms cut them off.

―END FLASHBACK―

“So, you got the Darksaber and rescued Grogu, but then the Jedi took him away?” Dinah asked, legs swinging from the excitement of the story.

“Yeah,” Din answered, “He needed to be with his own people.”

“That’s too bad,” she spoke, “But at least you rescued him!”

“Yeah.”

“Would you rescue me if I was kidnapped?” Her words caught him by surprise.

“Of course, little one,” Din replied, “Your mother and I would come to save you no matter where you were.”

“I’m glad,” his daughter replied with a smile, “Mommy can get scary when she’s mad.”

“Yes, she can be,” Din agreed with a chuckle before realizing how much time had passed, “Well, I think it’s about time we get you home, don’t you think?” Dinah hopped off the crate and nodded.

“Thank you for today,” she said with a smile, and Din sent her one in return.

As they walked back to your home, Din could not remove the smile that graced his face. The afternoon he had spent with his daughter was one that he would cherish, as painful as it was to bring up memories of his foundling. Din had yet to tell her that he was her father and was unsure how to bring that up but knew he would do anything to protect her, just like he had done with Grogu.

Unknown POV

For weeks they had tried to track down the illusive man, having managed to catch his scent when he arrived on Nevarro, but they had lost him again when they landed on Sacorria. They had scoured the planet for the Mandalorian, but his ship was too common looking to find, and so he disappeared from their radar. However, as luck would have it, after a month of searching for him, they spotted his armor in a busy bazaar. To their surprise, they saw him approach a little girl and they were even more stunned to see him remove his helmet.

Unfortunately, they only saw the back of his head from their vantage point, but it was enough to pique their interest and decide to watch the two more closely. They tailed the man for several days, seeing him go to the same house and leave gifts on the doorstep, further increasing their curiosity, but they knew that they could not directly confront him there, so they decided to focus on the little girl. Clearly, she was important to him if he was willing to remove his helmet around her, and as they observed the armored man interact with the little girl, a plan began to formulate in their mind, a sinister smile spreading across their face as pieces began to fall into place.

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#din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #blast from the past series #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #mando x reader #mando

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avengerscompound · 2 days

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The Interview - Chapter 26

The Interview - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Rating: E

Warnings: none

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Melody Danes

Word Count: 1845

Summary: Melody Danes gets the break of a lifetime when as a lowly intern, she’s assigned to write a profile piece on Captain America. Steve Rogers is a hard man not to fall for and as she and Melody get closer and Melody’s career takes off, jealousy leads to sabotage, and the potential to bring her whole world crashing down.

Chapter 26

A persistent buzz-buzz pulled Melody from her sleep. It wasn’t until Steve was nudging her that she realized it was her phone.

“Mel,” Steve whispered and he shook her. “That’s the third time it’s rung in a row.”

She sat up and fumbled for her phone, blinking in the low light. The sun was up, but it barely filtered through the curtains. A glance at the phone through blurry eyes saw it was Bobbi, and it was 7.30. She accepted the call and held the phone to her ear. “Bobbi? Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay,” she said, and Melody sat up, her heart racing. Her first thought went straight to her being hurt.

“What is it? What happened?” she asked.

“The Daily Bugle has printed a whole bunch of excerpts from your journal!” Bobbi shouted.

The volume of her voice startled her so much that it took a moment for it to sink in. “Wait… what?” she said.

There was a cognitive dissonance going on, because if they’d published her journal that was an invasion of her privacy, but Bobbi sounded mad at her.

“Mel!” Bobbi exclaimed. “You wrote about all of us. They published so much! About Steve! About Bucky! About me! Why would you write all that stuff?”

Melody blanched. It felt like she’d just been hit by a truck. She didn’t even know what to say. She’d never said anything mean about the people she loved in her journals. Despite assuming it would be private, it wasn’t about venting things she wouldn’t say to people’s faces. But it was honest and it was personal. It was about people’s struggles, about what she hoped for them, even about stupid things like not getting sleep because of sex sounds. She had no idea what kind of things they’d cherry-picked to publish but going from how Bobbi sounded it was not good and she was already sure it had been cut in ways to make it sound bad.

“Bobbi…” she said. “I don’t - I don’t know how this could have happened! You don't think I would have published my personal journal, do you?”

There was a huff on the other end of the line and silence for a few beats. “No. But you’d be surprised by how little that helps right now.”

Melody’s mind was racing. She couldn’t even imagine what she could have said that would be getting this kind of reaction. Sure there were things that were private and would hurt Bobbi if they were published, but nothing she could think of would make her cousin angry at her.

“I don’t know what was posted, Bobbi,” Melody said. “I didn’t do this.”

“Maybe you should take a look and then call me back,” Bobbi said and disconnected the call.

Melody stared at her phone in shock and then began to open up the DB app.

“What’s going on, Mel?” Steve asked. He was sitting up watching her closely and he put his hand on her arm.

“Someone posted excerpts of my journal on the Daily Bugle. There’s stuff about you, Bucky, Bobbi. Bobbi sounds pissed. I don’t know what I could have written that would have upset her this much.”

Steve grabbed his own phone and began to look up the details too.

It didn’t take long for Melody to find the article. It was worse than she could have even imagined. It contained photographs of pages to prove the authenticity and then had an article written with long excerpts. Because Bobbi and Melody were only really minor celebrities the direct quotes about them were minor but the paraphrasing was weighted to make their lives' struggles seem like character flaws. The fact they were kicked out and homeless was spoken about like they were delinquents and deadbeats. The transphobia was rampant when it spoke about Bobbi’s transition. It was subtle. There was nothing blatant like using the wrong pronouns or simply calling her a man, but it was still there and it made Melody’s skin crawl. The fact they had lived with each other was made to seem like codependence and was written as if they were in a relationship. Which wouldn’t be so bad, except that when it came to the fact they were dating Bucky and Steve it made them look like fame-hungry bitches who were using the men to get their five minutes.

Bucky and Steve were made to look both like victims and like villains all at once. On one hand, saying how they were being used to further fame, but then making them look incapable of the job of superhero. Steve’s lack of sexual experience was spoken about in far more depth than Melody had ever written, where it heavily implied that she thought he was a virgin. The fact he lacked experience was made to seem like a character flaw - like he wasn’t masculine enough to be Captain America. That was then paired with the quote about how both she and Steve were bisexual, which was written off as him being gay and using her as a beard. His nightmares were painted as a mental disorder that made him both too weak and too unstable to carry the shield.

Everything that was said about Steve was doubled down on in the case of Bucky. Bucky was clearly just a gay man as far as this article was concerned, which fed on that subtle transphobia that was there every time they mentioned Bobbi, like a vampire on blood. The article painted him as both simultaneously weak and ineffectual and dangerous and unstable all at once.

All of that would be bad enough, but the article also just added things if the story wasn’t juicy enough. There were things listed as direct quotes she knew she’d never said. Claims of doing anything for fame. There was a quote saying she was in love with Bobbi, and another saying she couldn’t stand her.

The only saving grace for all this was the article’s author was named right up the top, so she knew exactly who she was going to sue for defamation and theft. Norah Winters.

Melody was shaking by the time she finished and tears were running down her cheeks. She looked up at Steve and he was staring at her with his mouth hanging open.

“Melody,” he said, the disappointment dripping from his voice. It hurt. It hurt worse than the article.

“I didn’t write this stuff, Steve. You know I wouldn’t say some of these things,” she said.

“I thought I did,” he said. “But Mel, a lot of this is true. There’s copies of the pages.”

“Read them!” she snapped, making herself jump due to how loud she was. “They don’t say these other things.”

“Even not counting those things, a lot of it’s true,” Steve argued.

Melody drew her legs up against herself. She couldn’t believe after all they’d been through, Steve would believe she’d do this. “There is a lot of stuff here that’s been paraphrased and cut down so it sounds bad. Of course, I wrote about being kicked out with Bobbi. But I never blamed her for it or called her selfish for making me go with her. It’s easy to lie and make things sound worse if you’re just pulling the one negative line out of a whole paragraph or altering something neutral to make it sound bad.” She pressed her forehead against her knees and breathed in deeply. She looked up at Steve again, meeting his eyes. “Steve. You know me. Norah, a woman you refused to even have interview you because of the way she twisted facts to make a story, has stolen my private journal and twisted it and lied to get back at me for getting a job she wanted. Please tell me this reaction you're having is just an initial hurt, because if you really believe I think these things…”

Steve sighed and shook his head, putting his hand on her leg. “No. You’re right. I’m sorry.” His hand retreated again and he ran it through his hair with a groan. “I’m going to have to go home and deal with this. There’s things in there that are going to affect the Avengers.”

She looked up at him in alarm. “What about Thanksgiving?”

“I know. You stay. But if I don’t get ahead of it, it’s going to spiral. This is a huge mess. What do you want to do?” he asked.

She started crying and shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m going to have to quit my job. I’m going to sue. Probably both Norah and the Bugle. Which means, finding a lawyer. I’m going to be so broke. There’s no way I can afford the rent anymore. Bobbi sounded so mad at me she probably won’t even want me back.”

“Bobbi will come around,” Steve promised. “She knows you better than anyone… but that article…”

He trailed off, but she knew what he was thinking. If it had made Melody and Steve look bad, it had made Bucky and Bobbi look like real pieces of trash. “Yeah,” she said and sighed. “Maybe I should just ask Mom and Dad if I can stay here. Even if Bucky and Bobbi do forgive me, they probably would rather I wasn’t around for a bit.”

Steve rubbed her leg. “I’ll talk to Tony. This article affects the way the Avengers are seen too. If it is slander…”

“It is!”

Steve sighed and nodded. “... then we’ll want to sue too and maybe your case can just be absorbed by ours. That could save you money on the legal fees.”

“I can’t accept something like that,” she argued. “Not right now. They already think I’m using you.”

Steve frowned and patted her leg again. “Think about it. I can’t make any promises anyway, but don’t discount the possibility.”

She nodded and let out a breath. He was probably right. Any lawyer that Melody could afford was going to be crap compared to any that the Bugle could. Whereas, Tony Stark’s legal team was the best of the best and dealt with things like this all the time. Having her case wrapped up in the Avengers one would be smart. But she couldn’t help but think that while it might mean she won the court case, it would just back up the lies that Norah had written about her. She huffed. She would consider it and weigh up the pros and cons. Besides, Tony Stark might not think it was worth suing anyway. Or he might think it was a Steve problem not an Avengers one. Or he might not want the cases bundled together. She might as well shelve the idea until she knew.

She shook off the spiraling thoughts and picked up her phone. “I better call Bobbi back. And J.J. The threat of suing might at least get him to take it down right away. The damage is done, but if it’s down and a correction is published, at least that might make people realize some of it is bullshit.” Besides all of that, she needed to quit. It didn’t matter what happened from here on out, she couldn’t work for the Daily Bugle anymore. The DB might have killed any future she had as a journalist at all.

Steve kissed her forehead and stood up. “I better pack.”

She frowned and looked up at him. “You really can’t stay until tonight?”

He shook his head. “I have to start trying to sort this out. I’m sorry, Mel.”

Melody watched him for a moment as he pulled out his phone and started to make a call. She wanted to believe that he was telling the truth, but there was this nagging feeling that maybe he just needed space too. Maybe the question of what was true or not was eating at him. She hoped the space would help and not be the start of the end for them.

She frowned and hit call back on Bobbi’s number and braced for another terrible conversation.

// NEXT

#marvel #avengers #marvel fanfic #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #captain america #captain america fanfic #steve rogers x oc #fanfic #fanfiction #ofc #smut #the interview

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