𝘚𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘳 𝘉𝘰𝘺🍭𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘺

3;

Summer 1946

🦅🦅🦅

This shit wasn't convenient.

But you had been FORCED to attend.

Just so Vought could spy on you and see how well you behaved in public.

The Country Club in California was a marvel of its time, owned a designed by some oil billionaire, set on a thousand lush acres of woodland.

If you could dream it, it was here.

Rock climbing, horse riding, oddly shaped swimming pools, polo, golf, whatever the fuck other rich people indulged themselves in.

And I had no idea why I was here.

In the finest blue, gold spangled dress Vought could provide, I sat away from the sun in my own little world, lounging underneath the prettily pink painted wooden hut folded with blooming wreaths of flowers, book in hand.

A small, manicured hand planted a bar of dark chocolate on the table.

And Luna, my lovely Luna, eternal sunshine, a natural blonde from Moscow, twenty six going on sixteen flopped down beside me in her white, knee length Grecian gown, fanning herself.

"Where did you get that?" I had an idea, smiling at the head lounging on my shoulder.

"Stole it," Luna slyly whispered, wincing at the heavy hard back.

And like she always did, with a tint on her cheeks and cherry red lips, stood to show off her new outfit, twirling on her heels. "So?"

I abandoned The History of Ancient Rome, fifth edition, infuriatingly in Danish on the slats, reaching out to touch the satiny material flowing at her impeccable thighs. "You look pretty, what's the occasion?"

She feigned insult, hand on her heart. "Can't a girl do her hair and makeup just for herself?"

..

...

Yeah, that was funny.

As if she didn't have a second to spare, giddily, she gripped my hand, powers of telekenesis giving me choice but to run behind her.

"He's coming today," oh, boy, there was excitement there as we flew across the green towards the theatre hall.

Yes, I had no fucking clue who this guy was, apparently he was very famous, very important, very everything. "Not this guy again! Do you even know what he looks like? He might make Fred look like Hercules."

"Come on, I'll show you." Luna practically thrust me in front of the poster, hands on my shoulders, "he's the most handsome man you've ever seen, don't deny it."

Well, I think he looked like an asshole.

"So tall," she slipped in beside me, gem eyed and drooling, so lost in her own little fairy tale, I'd told her to be careful of wealthy, powerful men, she did not give a singular shit. "Those lips," she traced them, foot popping, "and eyes."

Couldn't see his fucking eyes under that silly helmet...or face mask...bandana whatever it was called.

"And I bet he was a MASSIVE cock."

"Luna!"

She sighed, blue eyes rolled as she swept down my dress and undid my hair, "you need to end this frigid bitch routine, or else your tutu will leave a dust trail."

"Hey, that was..." yeah that was accurate. But y'know, nazis and sieges and a world war had kinda killed my libido, or, the chance of ever developing one. "Bitch, there's cobwebs up there."

She laughed musically, and I wondered if I was in love with her as she shook her head and waved me off, elbowing me gently while she sighed at the imposing American man in a dark green costume, cigar between his lips, dancing girls ra ra'ing behind him while planes flew over head.

"Doesn't he make you feel something," she asked, urgently, like I'd had a fall and was wondering if I could feel my legs, "not a twinge, a twitch, a yearning."

Had to smile toothy before switching to deadpan. "A yearning?"

"A yearning," she repeated, pulling out her pocket mirror and powder to dab up her face.

"He'll be great for you," I replied, her lipstick almost slipping up her face at the compliment.

"Do you really think so?" Doll faced, doe eyed, a gaggle of weak, unremarkable Supes whistling at her prominent posterior strut past.

No, of course I didn't, he would chew her up and spit her out and then leave me to hold her hair, but she was happy at the thought of it, and too naïve to know any better, annnnd people had told me I needed to get out more and not be such a grumpy guts. "Yes, you're gonna catch his eye, then he's gonna chase you, and you're gonna have the best time you've ever had with...uh. Captain America over here."

One big breath and closed eye affirmation later, she turned to me, fussing like a mother hen, using her own rouge to get rid of the Baltic paleness. "Choose a man, have a nice time, for once just let yourself a little fun, don't be a nun."

"It's the land of prosperity, we're going to be famous, enjoy the last of your youth,"

"In Hollywood years we're already old fucks, make the most of it," she squinted at your crotch. "Did you shave? Or have you kept an entire growler? You might get lucky."

I doubted it.

"Honestly, how do I look?" She stood up straight, striking a pose.

"Like my Luna,"