#cousin!reader

[ineverwrite]

All Good Things- 2

Word Count: 747

Third-year came in went, ending spectacularly, with Neville winning the last ten points for Gryffindor to win the House Cup and Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger saving the school (and Harry's life of course). Y/N cheered loudly with her fellow Gryffindors, hugging Neville's sobbing shoulders and throwing an arm in the air. Fred and George were standing in their seats, hollering their praises to their little brother and the rest of the Gryffindors pounding the table in celebration. It was one of the best days of Y/N's life.

    A lot of things started to change over the summer. Being a teenage witch was never easy, and only receiving a letter every week or two from her friends was doing less than wonders on her patience. On a particularly stagnant evening, reading the same classic muggle book for the 15th time, Y/N was rudely interrupted by an earsplitting crash that scared the living daylights out of her. It was hard to tell who screamed louder, herself or the poor owl that came crashing through her bedroom window. In a flash, her parents apparated in her room, brandishing wands like swords and yelling at the intruder that was not there. Errol, the Weasleys owl, was hooting pitifully on the ground with his feathers drifting slightly around. The truly pitiful sight and the enormous reaction it caused made the entire family laugh until tears were streaming down their cheeks. Her mother carefully picked up the owl and handed over the letter giggling.

  "This is for you," she said with a smirk. Y/N looked down to find in pure joy that he had finally written to her this summer. Too invested with the letter, she hardly heard her parents walk out of her room, carrying Errol and chortling,  “I’ll have to tell Molly the next time I see her- Merlin-that was funny." Excited, Y/n nearly tore the letter trying to open it, but the realization made her stop cold. Why was she so excited about a simple letter? Feeling childish over her overaction, she read the contents of the delivered envelope with more restraint. It was perfectly acceptable that she was excited to hear from her friends- she had reasoned. He had asked how her summer was, if she had missed them yet, and told stories of their misfortune of getting grounded for half the summer by Mrs. Weasley. Immediately taking out her quill and parchment, she quickly wrote back her response, answering all his questions and asking her own, hoping that her writing did not look too sloppy or too nice.      Too nice? What in the bloody hell could make her care what Fred Weasley thought of her penmanship.?

September 1st came entirely too quickly. As always, though, the excitement of going back to Hogwarts could alleviate any nerves. The train ride seemed to take no time at all, though the regular group of Gryffindor’s seemed more subdued as the experience was not as new. Fred, George, Angelina, and Alicia were all talking quidditch. Just about quidditch. It's not like Y/N hated quidditch-she absolutely adored to watch her friends play- but being the only person without experience left her pretty much out of the conversation. Which stung, but they were not trying to hurt her feelings. So, she listened casually, trying to at least to look interested. The effort did not last long, the carriage being warm and comforted by the soft sounds of her friends talking in the background. Y/N daydreamed of flying cars and drifted right to sleep.           It had only felt like seconds when the girl was being shaken awake. Groaning softly, she looked over at the offender. Fred Weasley was peering down at her and smiling at his sleepy friend. She noticed that there were flecks of gold in his warm brown eyes. Pretty. He was so pretty- the thought made her jolted upright, cold panic waking her up effectively.           “Might want to get ready, we are going to be there soon," Angelina said to Y/N, opening her trunk for school robes. Nodding in a daze, Y/N followed suit. Her friends plainly didn’t notice the internal battle going on in Y/N's head, and she tried not to let it show. It all was starting to make sense. The awkward moments, the untimely blushes, and the sudden anxiety…. Y/N had a crush. Not just on anybody either. On Fred Weasley, her best friend, the resident prankster. And there was nothing she could do about it.

[redhairedwolfwitch]

One With the Ice Pack On Her Face - Sylvie Brett x Shay!Cousin!Fem!Reader

A/n: So reader leaves Chicago when Shay dies, appears in Molly’s almost 7 years later with a black eye - mentions of violence, past-character death

“Okay, you’ve been staring off in that direction for five minutes now, somebody catch your eye?” Stella enquired, distracting Brett from where she had been staring.

“Uh...”

“Uh? What’s uh?” Foster enquired, turning her head to try spot who Brett had been looking at.

“Try the hottie with the icepack on her face.” Vanessa Rojas pointed out, leaving Stella and Foster to glance at you.

“Why does she have an icepack on her face? Does she need medical assistance? Brett, get over there-” Stella began before Severide walked over.

“Who needs medical assistance?” Severide asked, following Stella’s nod.

“Oh my god, Casey, look.” Severide nudged Casey in the arm, leaving him to put down his beer as he spotted you.

“Oh my god, what, what is she doing here? I thought she hated Chicago!” Casey retorted, getting up to get a better look at you.

“Okay, first who are we talking about-”

“Shay’s cousin, Y/n. She left Chicago after Shay died. Let’s go find out why she’s here and why she has an ice pack on her face.” Severide explained to Stella, leaving Casey to nod in agreement before they went over.

“Uhh... Brett, go over and offer medical assistance-” Stella replied, leaving Foster to nudge Brett out of her seat.

“Uh, right okay.”

“Who are we looking at?” Kim enquired, leaving Vanessa to gesture towards where you were standing and talking with Severide and Casey.

“Yeah, she’s cute.” Kim offhandedly replied, leaving Ruzek and Atwater to stare at her for a moment, the stare increasing as Hailey nodded in agreement.

“What?”

///

“Y/n?”

You paused in sipping your drink through the metal straw you’d brought to look up at who was talking to you.

“Kelly? Casey? You look... old, why do you both look so old? I’m joking, it’s just been... almost 7 years?” You chuckled, sipping your drink.

“Something like that...” Severide chuckled, glancing at Casey who just looked so confused for a moment.

“Still charming-”

“What can I say? I’m adorable, like 2% of the time.” You grinned before you spotted the blonde who had been watching you a while ago approaching.

“Someone call for a paramedic?” You could hear the seriousness in her joke, her gaze directly on the ice pack on your face.

“Yeah, what did you do, get hit in the face by a kid throwing a snowball?” Kelly joked before his smile fell as you removed the ice pack.

“Actually, it was an adult human’s fist... an adult human threw their fist into my face.” You explained, trying to ignore the concerned looks you were getting from the three of them.

“I’m Y/n by the way.”

“Brett, Sylvie Brett. I think you should get your eye checked out, do you have a doctor here in Chicago?” Brett asked, leaving you to pause as you thought about it.

“I think it was either Lakeshore or Chicago Med? I remember that one blew up, I remember reading the news article anyway...” You replied, tensing as Brett’s hand went to your chin so you’d look at her and so she could get a better look at your eye.

“You mentioned an adult human fist, who did this to you?” Brett’s question had you gasping slightly, the seriousness of her tone plus her hand under your chin  had your ears feeling like they were burning.

“Yeah, I’d like to know the answer to that too, maybe CPD-”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter? You have a black eye-” Casey began, leaving Brett to intervene.

“Possible fracture but you need to go to a doctors, also, you can’t drive in your condition, you could lose consciousness or your vision in that eye temporarily.” Brett stated replied, leaving you to just nod.

“I walked here anyway.” You brushed off, stepping away from the bar to leave Molly’s when you felt a hand on your forearm.

“I’ll drive you.” Brett stated, leaving you to stare at her for a moment before sighing, eventually nodding at her statement..

“I’m not arguing as I don’t think I have a choice.”

“You’re right, you don’t, nobody in their right mind would let you walk around in the dark, injured or not.” Severide replied, watching as you slid a $10 note over to Stella.

“Keep the rest. Okay, Brett, Sylvie Brett, are you ready to go? Your friends are watching like this is some TV show.” You asked, leaving Brett to hesitate as she turned around to spot Foster, Rojas, Burgess and Kidd watching as Ruzek and Atwater pretended like they weren’t listening.

“Good grief... uh, yeah, let’s go.” Brett answered, her ears feeling like they were burning as you chuckled, moving the slightly melted ice pack to your face again, the two of you heading towards the exit.

///

“Which hospital did you saw you had records at?” Brett enquired as the two of you reached her car.

“Shay had my details with Kendra who was at Lakeshore but she might be at Chicago Med now?”

“We’re closer to Med, you doing okay?” Brett asked, glancing at you as she pulled at the traffic lights on red.

“Tired.” You  mumbled, removing the ice pack to try glance around.

“Well, try not to doze off on me, okay? You might have a concussion.” Brett replied, taking a turn.

“Thank you. I’m sorry your evening turned into taking a stranger to the hospital.” 

“Well, taking strangers to the hospital is my job, usually in an ambulance though-”

“You weren’t working tonight, so I’m still sorry.” You replied, grimacing at the lights as Chicago Med came into view.

///

“Brett, what are you doing here- wait, Y/n? What happened to you, what are you even doing here?” 

“Hey Kendra, been a while.”

///

“Do you want me to drop you off at wherever you’re staying?” Brett asked as the two of you began to head back.

“Take next left. I just moved into an apartment-”

“Hey, I know this street.” Brett admitted, realising the directions you were giving her were sending her to her apartment building.

“Are you-”

“I’m the floor below.” You replied, as Brett parked.

“Are you going to be okay?” Brett asked as the two of you headed inside the building.

“Yeah, i was cleared for concussion and it’s just a black eye, no fracture or anything, it was close though. Goodnight, Brett, Sylvie Brett.”

“Goodnight Y/n. Wait, Y/n, why did you go to Molly’s?” Brett enquired, leaving you to lean on the door frame of the entrance to your apartment.

“Shay took me to Molly’s, I wasn’t 21 at the time so Hermann gave me a carton of juice, but she told me, if I ever felt unsafe or something, to get my ass to Molly’s because the bar was ran by people she trusted. Ran by people she considered family.” You explained, leaving Brett to smile sadly.

“I never met Shay, but from what everyone’s said over the years, she was pretty amazing.”

“So are you, Brett, Sylvie Brett,” you coughed to clear your throat, eyes flicking to the wall behind Brett for a moment before you spoke again “everyone at 51...”

“How did you get the black eye?” Brett asked, leaving you to sigh.

“I saw a girl get pulled into an alley, I raised hell, the girl managed to run, I told her to go to the police and I got clocked in the face before the guy ran off in the other direction. Goodnight Sylvie.”

“Goodnight Y/n.” Brett replied, smiling softly before heading back to her apartment upstairs.

Brett paused for a moment, turning back to look at the closed door of your apartment before sighing slightly, heading back upstairs.

It was only when she put her hand in her pockets when she took her coat off that she found a slip of paper with your number on.

[retvenkos]

books // beckett harrington

Choices: Stories You Play: The Elementalists - Beckett Harrington and cousin!reader, platonic, fluff

requested

A/N: Beckett is pretty insufferable for the most part, but he comes around in the end, like promised.

Summary: Beckett looked at you incredulously and you poked him the way an annoying little sibling might. Maybe Beckett needed an annoying sibling to teach him social skills. A Fire-Att cousin could fill those shoes, right?

It was a beautiful day; warm with a few wisps of clouds in the heavens above.The trees in the garden swayed lightly in the wind, their leaves dappled with sunlight, the edges seemingly dipped in golden honey. It was a perfect day for swimming or biking or even going to Penn Square to window shop knick knacks you didn’t need. The possibilities were endless...

Yet, here you were, in your aunt and uncle’s library with at least two dozen books flying around you, waiting to be forced back into their shelf and chained down again. You looked at the book in your hand, a first edition of commentary on magickal law that your uncle had asked you to “fetch” for him really quickly.

Being polite was not worth it.

Cursing under your breath, you reached out to the book closest to you with your magick, forcing it back where it belonged. The book fluttered its pages at you as though it possessed the same pretentious attitude as your extended family, but you wrangled it like a bucking bronco and stroked its spine to calm it.

“One down...” you muttered to yourself, already reaching out for the next book fluttering past you.

This was not how you imagined spending a beautiful summer day, but it was fitting, seeing as you were staying at the Harrington household.

Your parents had said staying with your aunt and uncle would build character. It hadn’t taken you long to realize that “character” meant “misery,” in this particular case.

So far you had rearranged spice cabinets (which they never seemed to use when they cooked), suffered through talks of politics and your impending future (which you wished to keep at bay as long as possible), and studied for summer courses you had no interest in taking (they were of your father’s design, all of them insufferably dull). It was really no wonder Beckett walked through the halls of his own home with a constant frown. You hadn’t done anything for your own enjoyment since the day you set foot on your aunt and uncle’s estate - a childhood spent in these walls must not have been much of a childhood at all. 

“If you sigh enough, you might just blow the books back onto the shelves.”

Beckett. You knew that haughty tone better than you liked.

“Did you father make you check up on me?” You didn’t bother turning around to address him, instead, you focused on the slowly dwindling number of books that taunted you from their place in the air. “I have his book tied to that desk, if it’s really so pressing.”

Beckett scoffed, plucking one of the wayward books out of the air and shelving it, his magick impassive and effortless. “I don’t need an excuse to enter the library.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” you snapped back. “Our whole family is content with living inside a library without ever seeing a day of sun.”

“So that’s what this is about.”

“What?”

You turned around to face him and he stared at you uninterestedly, as though he hadn’t just made a vague statement that would incite questioning. You rolled your eyes.

The world made the right decision in making him the youngest in his family. If he had a younger sibling, his inability to so much as communicate with feeling would drive them to insanity. Although, with your aunt and uncle as parents, it made sense why he turned out the way he did.

“Are you psychoanalyzing me, Beckett?”

“Hardly,” he deadpanned, “I only wanted to know why you’ve been walking around here like it’s a prison.”

You sighed and pushed the last book where it belonged. “I hate to break it to you, but you look the same way. Worse, even - and in your own home, no less.”

“This is my father’s home,” he quickly retorted, his words off the cuff and frank. You frowned, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Besides, at least you aren’t forced to have family debates with him.”

“I’m forever grateful,” you said sarcastically, walking over to the table where you had left the tome your uncle asked for. You heard Beckett make an exasperated sound and follow you. “What am I supposed to do with that extra time, anyway? Study for my class on magickal theories?” You shook your head and slumped into a chair. “What good are theories if you aren’t out in the world, using them?”

“They provide great knowledge and insight to magick and how attunements work.” Beckett sat down as well and you hummed, picking at your cuticles to calm down. You could feel his eyes on you and didn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that you actually listened to what he had to say. 

After a long moment, Beckett spoke, his voice significantly quieter than before, just above a whisper, “But I suppose knowledge is pointless without an application.”

You stared at Beckett, open-mouthed, as though he had done something insane. He shifted underneath your gaze and you let out a laugh. “What did you just say?”

“(Y/n), please—”

“No, no, no. I want to hear it. Say it again.”

Beckett looked at you incredulously and you poked him the way an annoying little sibling might. Maybe Beckett needed an annoying sibling to teach him social skills. A Fire-Att cousin could fill those shoes, right?

Beckett started to protest again, but he looked at your eager expression and sighed. “I said that without a practical application, studies can be tiresome.”

“Really?” you asked, your smile growing devilish. “Because I thought I heard you say ‘knowledge is pointless.’”

“Without an application!”

“Uh, huh.”

[thedailyimagines]

Imagine being Felicity’s cousin and your boyfriend Jason calls. You two end up flirting, much to the embarrassment of both sets of bystanders.

“Ok Grayson, I think I have someone who can help us. Their name’s y/n.”

“Alright, give them a call.”

<—>

“Hey y/n? Your phone is ringing. Someone called Jason?”

“Let me see.”

“Y/n? It’s Jason.”

“Hey babe. Behave, your on speaker.”

“Or what, you’ll spank me?”

“...Well I was thinking a crop or a paddle but if you wanna go old school...”

“Goddammit Jason I don’t wanna hear your girlfriend kink talk you!”

“Shut up Grayson!”

“Um y/n? Yeah, we all are still in the room. Listening to the conversation.”

“Fuck.”

~~~~~~~~

Quote from and inspired by Criminal Minds, Season 3 episode 4.

.

I don’t own the above gifs, all credits go to the owners.

[deepdisireslonging]

Chapter 21 Extended Cut: BTE Ride-Along with Mox and Y/N

Series Masterlist Here

Chapter 21: Speaking Without Talking

***

“Are we going to talk now?”

“A few more miles.”

You still weren’t ready.

“How’s Cincinnati?”

Your eyebrows shot up. Then you tilted your head. At least it was a start. “It’s fine. The Graeter’s in Fountain Square closed down.”

“What!”

“Most of Fountain Square is shut down. They opened a Frisch’s, though.”

He frowned and grumbled, “because Cincy needed another Frisch’s.”

The seat was uncomfortable. “Most of the good places in Cincinnati have disappeared since you moved to Vegas.” The tone of your voice didn’t have a drop of guilt-tripping in it, and he knew it. His car seat was uncomfortable too. 

“Why’d you show up tonight?”

“I was told to take my issues to the source. And I have had an issue since you crashed my announcement night.” Shifting in your seat again, you licked your lips. “I can’t seem to get out from under your shadow. I had a total career through Ohio Valley, NXT, and then you showed up. It was good to see you, I’ll admit. But I had kind of been hoping we wouldn’t meet… until November.”

“Until November?” He grinned. “Wow. I think I would have crashed your show at some point, if I hadn’t already.” A hard breath caught your attention. “If I had known the whole thing was your idea… I would have waited. I- uh. I never did get say… I’m sorry for- for crashing your ‘announcement.’”

Why were your lips so dry? Why was this making you so nervous? “Do you have any suggestions how to- how to become my own woman again?”

“Keep being you. They’ll forget or the ah, the Universe will tell them to let it go. Eventually.” The leather on the steering wheel creaked under his grip. “You don’t have to be me. I was an accident. You- you’re a whirlwind.” 

You shook your head. Under your skin, your blood was beginning to boil again. “Why do people compare us at all? So what. We share the same blood, and we were born in the same city. Big deal. We are two completely different people. I’m not you.” 

“Damn right you’re not,” he said with a grin.

“I’ve got my own legacy to build.” It came out harder than you meant, making Mox’s forehead crease. 

“Good for you. But don’t forget your roots.” 

“My roots?!” You turned in your seat. “You were struggling through the end of your run on WWE, you abandoned Cincinnati about the time I was gaining momentum, and I wanted to ask you about wrestling options. AEW was about to jumpstart. You were about to jump ship. And I couldn’t find you. Your friends in Cincy, the ones who trained both of us, couldn’t contact you. I was a nobody. What could I do? Waltz up to WWE headquarters and demand a phone call with you? I was alone. What roots do I have? I’m the one who’s kept up with our trainers. I’ve kept up with the local guys who sneaked us treats for lunch. You ran away. Left us all behind. Now that I’m in my own league, I’ve tried to make my own name. I should hate you for destroying the base I made for myself.”

“But?”

Your cheeks were warm, right under the surface. It wasn’t time to cry yet. “But I want your help. And I hate it.” 

He nodded. “That’s fair. I thought I’d never be able to escape the Shield. Every time we were in the same ring- the same building sometimes! Every time, commentary and the Universe would demand the links between us. Yes, I ran away. I needed it. What do you need? What do you need, Y/N, to move forward-”

“I want to be me!” Heaving, you gripped the handle on the door instead of digging your nails into your palms. “Every time I step into the arena I feel like I’m putting on a mask. I wear one all the time anyway, as protection. I am my own woman, my own wrestler and athlete. People know who I am as a competitor without needing to know my inner self. That is for me only. Titles are great; they show off your skill. But they’re not everything. I don’t want to lose my sense of self for anything or anyone. But now I’m having to hide everything.”

“That’s the business sometimes. You’ll handle it.”

“I don’t want to handle it. I want to just be seen as I am: the best wrestler in Cincinnati. Without having to fight against the legacy already there.”

Mox laughed. “You’re not the best in Cincinnati.”

“Yes, I am. You moved to Vegas, remember?” Just as quickly as tension had suffocated the car, it dissipated like one of you had rolled the windows down. 

Blissful silence gave you both time to think. And then Mox poked a needle into your chest. 

“You’re not going to erase me,” he said calmly. 

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sighed. “I’m not trying to erase you. And, as angry as I am, I am proud to- to- I’m proud of us. Okay? I’m proud of us. Coming up from nowhere. But, damn, if I don’t want to punch your face in for screwing up my plans,” you ended with a giggle.

“Snot-nosed kid.” 

“Bloody bastard.” 

Mox mock gasped. “Hey, that’s your Aunt you’re insulting.”

The car shook with how hard you two laughed. As the miles rolled by, the conversation morphed into family memories. You were reminded how much you missed your cousin, and having Mox as a cousin. Both of you were little menaces before he quit high school and really dug into wrestling. Terrorizing your moms. Terrorizing the whole neighborhood. All the times you wrestled each other out of trouble. The job you both ended up in was the only option, come to think about it. 

“And then you really wailed on him,” you ended the story with a laugh. “We could do it, you know. We could fight.”

He glanced at you. “What, at Collision Course? I thought you were trying to avoid me.”

“Sure.” You shrugged. “What better way to cement my own legacy than beat you to a bloody pulp? You’re Jon Moxley. You can take it.” You winked. 

With a grin, Mox tossed back, “if you think that’s what would happen. I think it would end completely different.”

“Of course you do.”

Taking a deep breath, you had to breach one more thing. “If I asked, no matter what happens in November, would- would you ever fight me again. Or… or fight by my side. As much as I’ve fought it up till tonight, I wouldn’t mind having-

“You’re not going to convince me to come back to WWE.” 

You swallowed. Hard. And accepted. “I know.” You knew he’d never agree to something that big. But, “it’s just… the way you act and talk about… it’s like it was all bad.” 

Mox didn’t look at you. Couldn’t or wouldn’t, you couldn’t determine. 

“I know you always loved fighting. You had to fight your way out. Then- It would be… not nice, but... helpful to have a heads up about how much I’m going to have to fight from the inside. I’m not a big name yet, and I’m still sorta under the radar, give or take this whole ordeal. But I’ll probably have to fight eventually, right?”

Mox sighed and tried not to look too tired. Tried not to scare you with a look. It didn’t work. He pulled the car to the side of the road. 

“I can’t help you with the McMahons.” Just saying their name made the steering wheel creak again. “But I will fight you at Collision Course. If that’s what you want. Is it?” Finally, he looked at you. His shoulders looked as tense as your spine felt. 

“Yeah.”

He nodded. “Alrighty then. You tell your people; I’ll tell mine.” He drove back onto the highway. “And, for the record,” he looked into the cameras set up by the Bucks, “I think you’re handling the McMahons better than anyone else ever could. Me included. And I can’t wait to see what you do next, on Raw and after November.”

Now, you might cry. You swallowed it back. “Th- thank you.”

He drove to the airport, dropped off the car, and split ways from you at the gate. You headed to the next city for your job, and he headed towards his. On either side of the country. 

[deepdisireslonging]

Thicker Than Blood

The Reader, newly shifted from NXT to Raw, makes an immediate statement. What follows is unprecedented wrestling: two companies destined to meet in head-to-head competition. And to boot, she has a personal battle to face.

This is part 2 to Family Found, but you don’t have to read it to understand this series. It’s an AU of an AU because I’m a writer and I can do that. *evil laugh*

Prelude 1

Prelude 2 

Prelude 3  

Chapter 1: Chaotic Reunion  

Chapter 2: Confrontation 

Chapter 3: Final Investments  

Chapter 4: Opportunities in the Sky (Money in the Bank)

Chapter 5: The First Battle Line

Chapter 6: History Collides  

Chapter 7: Stepping Stones

Chapter 8: Fractured Challenges 

Chapter 9: What Would You Do   

Chapter 10: Extreme Chances (Extreme Rules)

Chapter 11: Plans Versus Goals

Chapter 12: Officially Threatened    

Chapter 13: Handshakes  

Chapter 14: Set in Sand 

Chapter 15: Summer Glory (Summer Slam) 

Chapter 16: Writing History  

Chapter 17: Out of the Blue 

Chapter 18: Avoidance

Chapter 19: World Shock    

Chapter 20: Face to Face 

Chapter 21: Speaking Without Talking

Chapter 22: Defiant

Chapter 23: Legacy of a Loss

Chapter 24: Boo (Hell in a Cell)

Chapter 25: Old Threats in New Ways

Chapter 26: Chess Pieces 

Chapter 27: Ultimate Stare-down

Chapter 28: Surviving the Collision Part 1 

Chapter 29: Surviving the Collision Part 2 (Coming Eventually)

Chapter 30: Finale (Coming Eventually)

***

Deleted and Extended Scenes:

Ride-Along With Mox and Y/N (From Chapter 21)

[deepdisireslonging]

Family Found Masterlist

Since the series is complete, I’m giving it (and all of its 50 chapters) its own page to save some space on the Series Masterlist. (Not to be confused with the Masterlist Masterlist.) 

When Y/N joins the journalism crew of WWE, she is trying to make a name for herself. Then her missing past begins to catch up to her, and she finds herself capable of filling a void she never thought could be filled again.

Warnings/Promises: Angst, family fluff, some Sheamus x Reader fluff, no smut [sorry]

Total Word Count: 152,378

     Part 1: Welcome to the Team

     Part 2: Altercations

     Part 3: Long Time, No See

     Part 4: The Story

     Part 5: Making the Connections

     Part 6: Put in the Work (Money in the Bank)  

     Part 7: Help From All Sides

     Part 8: Focused on Alignments  

     Part 9: Chance and Consequences

     Part 10: Unfortunate Circumstances (Extreme Rules)

     Part 11: What’cha Got?  

     Part 12: Nothing Has Changed

     Part 13: Not This Time

     Part 14: This Isn’t Over

     Part 15: Hold It High (Summer Slam)

     Part 16: Bigger Problems

     Part 17: Tensions Rising

     Part 18: As It Could Have Been

     Part 19: When Hell Breaks Loose (Hell in a Cell)

     Part 20: Handling It

     Part 21: Your Catastrophe  

     Part 22: A Turn of Events

    *Series Disclaimer  

     Part 23: Sunday is Set

     Part 24: Shattered (TLC)

     Part 25: Trick or Treat (Evolution)

     Part 26: Missing

     Part 27: Powerhouses

     Part 28: Not a Total Loss (Survivor Series)

     Part 29: A Dangerous Road

     Part 30: Challenge Accepted

     Part 31: Sending a Message

     Part 32: Holiday Havoc (Clash of Champions)

     Part 33: Getting Involved

     Part 34: Double Trouble

     Part 35: Secrets

     Part 36: Choices

     Part 37: Planning the Rumble and Beyond

     Part 38: Squirrels in a Row (Royal Rumble)

     Part 39: Misplaced Second Chances

     Part 40: Sorta Forgiven

     Part 41: Fall Short (Elimination Chamber)

     Part 42: Business as Usual

     Part 43: It’s Official

     Part 44: Last Ambrose Standing (Fastlane)

     Part 45: Oncoming Storm

     Part 46: At the Worst

     Part 47: Resigning

     Part 48: WrestleMania 

     Part 49: Wrapped Up

     Part 50: One Last Time (Finale)