#…I just. I just feel like the glass doll my parents always insisted I was by not letting me do anything

[void-tiger]

There is just this rage that comes with realizing your body is just completely fucked while still outwardly looking Fine.

And then garnering the judgement of family who have convinced themselves you’re not trying hard enough.

And still waiting for a finished diagnosis to try petitioning for life-long physical therapy, pain management (that are NOT opioids when you can’t take nsaids, and you’re deemed too young for steroid injections especially as it is never brought up as an option), and ssi disability. Because what else are you gonna do. Especially when you’ll always be a burden. Capitalistic life isn’t designed to allow you to rest so you can still do Something within your limitations and not get injured, anyway. Or have energy left for yourself.

(No one is really clever enough to help, either. Is it even worth the risk to try contacting rehabilitation services when you need to stay on medicaid for a eventually-debilitating auto immune disease that has to have very expensive injections twice a month, all the while it’s the hypermobility that makes even being a student or hobbies or chores so iffy?)

And then trying to befriend some people. But there’s this wall there. They radiate concern. Sometimes affection. But I don’t want pity. (I don’t know how to accept actual sympathy to my face by their vibes and tone and body language, anyway.) I just want secure friendships. I just want—for once in my adult life, or my life period if including neurodivergence’s and the resulting cptsd from not even remotely accepting environments—to not be my Problems. Someone else’s Problem.

I just want to be human. I want to have fun and feel capable and not blunderingly or intentionally reminded that I’m not.

(Am I even worth being someone not pitied? Not judged? Will I ever be fun?)

[hariasonet]

four hundred and one.

I'm pacing the hallways with a guilt ridden heart. Waiting for a flash that never comes. One step turns into four thousand and one. The hallway was not enough to contain my doubt. The shadow creeping in slowly like poison oak after a prickle on a skin. 

The corridor was full of me. Or me from the past, you wouldn't recognize her by now. I was smiling, showing my missing teeth. Have I told you about that? What about the one where I got my spelling bee award in third grade? It was the word ‘malevolent’ that got me the gold. Now I can't even recognize the word when it spits on my face and calls me names. Funny how the world works, huh?

Or the one from five years ago, me in my dazzling dress looking pretty in pink. You said things about Peter Aoki who didn't deserve to bring me to Prom. You, with your thousand verses on how I deserve better. Deserve someone like you. But did you? Did I?

Oh! That one from my older sister's musical performance of cabaret. Our friend group was meeting up that day, didn't we? We’re just going out for four months at that point, just a shy manner of speaking and texting, we’re not brave enough to put a name on something so early. That’s what you said at least. Fransesca told me you looked at my sister too long. 

What else, what else. Oh, that’s us with the red cup glass from a party a few months ago. This one was where we confirmed it to our friends group about us, right? You, with your snapback and me trying to put on a smile. Act like us just happened a month back and not something you insist to hide for the past two years. 

This was my parents house, you never step foot here, yet your presence is still haunting like a bad dream. Four thousand and one and I'm in the kitchen. It was airy, with big windows and spices put neatly in the cabinet. My mother was always peculiar about people who walked to her special place. I never like cooking that much, but I have claimed it for myself. I had to. All my siblings have their thing; My older sister Sasha with her musical, my little sister Sylvia with her MIT scholarship. I have to have my own even if it's something inane like cooking. 

I'm already the forgettable middle child, at least Im known from something. At least when I get to college I can make a name of myself. At least I had you. Right?

Four thousand and one and I'm in my dad’s study. There was nothing familiar here. The thick book and maps stay still, collecting dust and problems for tomorrow. Is this what it felt like, stuck in time? The only one who went into the room was Sylvia, only to clean it out and walk away. She was the only one who was not tainted by the anguish. Is it what it feels like standing still while the world keeps spinning around? 

Four thousand and one and I'm in the dining room. The table was spotless, a speckle of dirt nowhere to be seen. THe one place my mother tried her best to improve, so people from outside looking in can see how beautiful our home is. How beautiful and empty, never to be used. A trophy to parade around and to fulfill your ego. Am I no more than your trophy? Or am I something less than that?

Four thousand and one and I'm still pacing, finding something to put my focus onto. But I have nothing, nothing more to see, nothing more to give. Even when you’re not there to consume my attention, I still have to give and give and give. To your overlying ghost of an ego, feed it till it is full of my torment and I am left nothing more than a husk of a person. 

Four thousand and one and still nothing. Nothing from you, or other people I care about. People who told me it's ‘us against the world’. The one i thought cannot leave me bereft and dry. THe one I hold dear when they shed their never ending tears or torment. Yet no one. In this big house there is no one but me and my distressed shadow.

“Why didn't we meet sooner?” I remember you said that one time, when we’re still giddy on life. 

I agree, I recall. Nodded like a marionette doll, with no thoughts in her head. 

Me  at that time had not yet been touched by reality. Still with her rose colored contact lenses and bad dye job. Looking life right in the eye and thinking everyday is a challenge she should overcome. And then there was you. You and your wallbreaking smile. One look and I'm wounded on the leg. One look and I willingly gave you all the key to my destruction.

And that's all you need. 

All those secretive smiles, illicit dates, and reserved hugs. All those caution steps, looking behind my back after every peck. All those wasted years just for you to wreck it the second you take hold on what you want. 

One flash and it all goes out of the window.

“Why didn't we meet sooner?” 

Three years ago I might foolishly agree. But me from now could only stare at nothing and pacing. And pacing and pacing and pacing. Walk around this house like a madman because this is the only thing I can do. 

The other possibility was arson and I cannot light anything on fire without burning myself first. 

So walking around it is. 

“Why didn't we meet sooner?” 

I ask the hollow wall, no longer holding my secret like it used to be. All of me was already wasted. Used by someone else for their own amusement. All the threads I hold dear, snip away in a blink of an eye. 

And you’re holding the scissor, grinning wildly. 

“Why didn't we meet sooner?” 

So you can annihilate me faster, put damage on my naive self even more? Bleed me dry and sold the blood bag for cheap? 

I was kind before I met you.

No, I was kind, I am kind. 

Where were you when I was kind? 

You were never there, weren't you? Not even a little bit. And now I have to be the one who bears the brunt and burns with it.

Four thousand and one and no one’s gonna come. Either to save me or to mock me even more. They all have enough of me, it seemed. Four thousand and one and this house was valuable, even more than me. But still no one’s come in through the door. Even when I am at the edge of destruction. 

Four thousand and one and blazing red. 

Four thousand and one and no more. 

[maquil-adora]

The Girl who Met Death

~900 words

There was once a quiet little girl, in a quiet little countryside, in a quiet little world. Carol, the little girl, was a very still child. Though it would hardly be her fault, as her parents treated her like a glass doll. “Don’t run around too quickly,” they'd say. “A little lady such as yourself should hardly want anything.”

Like a doll, her parents dressed her in charming garments and ornate bells that twitter in the wind. “Beauty is a virtue,” Carol’s mother would say. “You cannot be anything less.”

To be frank, Carol did not see how her mother could say such a thing. It is not as if her mother were particularly gifted in beauty, nor her father, so how could she? As a matter of fact, Carol could not remember anyone who had stood out to her in looks. There were other, much more important quantifiers to her parents, like her mother’s fairy-like giggles and her father’s scent of rich spices and cigar smoke.

Carol was a curious child with many adventures under her belt. From stopping the gardener on his lawnmower, to exploring the attic by herself. She even went to the kitchens while the cooks prepared for evening dinner, trampling their feet as she looked for that evening’s desert. The product of these excessive excursions? Carol was quite the independent child, much to her parents abhor. They would much prefer her to be more well behaved, to follow their directions and stay in the few rooms allowed. However, that is not something Little Carol was not interested— not at all. In many ways, exploring her family’s grounds was the only thing she had: between lessons and visits from Dr. Peed. She wasn’t sure why he came to the manor or why her parents insisted she sit through his constant prodding of her arms and head, but that wasn’t what mattered.

What mattered was that she deserved her time for fun: something outside of reading, drawing, and playing tea parties with her Nanny. Outside of sitting pretty for her father’s coworkers when they have social dinners. Time to run and explore all the nooks and crannies of her home. At least, that’s what Grandma taught her. To be free to run and jump and learn as much as she wanted. It was one of the last things Grandma had taught her, at least until she went to the clouds.

Sometimes, Carol feels as if she can still hear her, in the low hum of the living room television, straining the springs in her recliner. She would knit a lot, that Carol was sure of, and she was always very particular about her collection of soft yarns. “Only the best for my little girl,” Carol’s grandmother would chortle. Soft to the touch, the knitted sweaters were Carol’s favorite thing her grandmother made.

She would especially need these warm sweaters for the winter. When the cold of the winter mornings clawed through her tiny feet and settled icy shards into her bones. When all she could do is huddle up by the fireplace in hopes of warming quickly. When she was utterly bored with nothing to do in the living room, and the only scarce entertainment found was by plucking at the strings of her clothing.

It was during one of these nights that she was visited by a man she had never met before. He was quiet as death in his meandering approach. His clothing scraped at the floor as he stood by the fireplace. “Are you a friend of my father?” The girl asked.

“No,” the man said. His voice was barely above a whisper, but howled through the room. “Although, I am a good friend of your grandmother.”

“Really, I don’t think I’ve ever met you before. Were you at her funeral?”

“Yes, in fact I was. Although, you have met me before.”

Confused, Carol asked, “I’m sure I would have remembered you if we had met. Who are you?” He was a very distinct man. Just standing a few feet away from her, and it was as if he filled the room with the smell of pine and wet moss.

“But you have,” the man says. “I have always been around the manor: from the roaring heat of the kitchens, to the crisp cool of the edge of the grounds. I was even right beside you as your grandmother was lowered. Do you truly not know me, child?”

“I’d think I’m not a liar, Sir.” Carol puffed up indignantly. “Who even are you?”

“I am a friend of your grandmother,” The man says. “Along with your grandfather, and your great-grandfather, and the man before him.” He keeps going, “Your parents don’t like me much, although they know me as well.”

Carol stomps closer towards him, “My father’s never talked about you, nor my mother for that matter.”

“Most people don’t like to talk about me.”

“My grandmother taught me not to suffer fools,” the little girl huffed. “And you are especially insufferable. If you really won’t tell me your name, then I’ll have to tell you to leave.”

“Calm your irritation, my dear child. If you must know, I will explain.” The man's cane scrapes against the floor before he continues. “I am the last breath taken by every person to ever be born. The shadow of the night, I am the end. I am Death.”

@maquil-adora

[beyondspaceandstars]

High-Class, Cold Shoulders

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: angsty but also fluffy Summary: Your affluent parents are not totally sold on your relationship with a certain super soldier — and a not-so-little announcement threatens to make things more complicated. A/N: i was a bit shocked to see that I never posted this one shot on tumblr! it’s one of my absolute favorite things i’ve ever written idk what i love about it but I feel like I just got it right lmao please enjoy!

Masterlist

"Do we really have to go?" Bucky asked for the umpteenth time as he emerged from the bathroom. He looked insanely dashing in his suit and tie and if you weren’t annoyed with his question you would’ve been tempted to jump his bones right then and there.

"Buck, come on," you sighed as you walked over from your vanity. You stood in front of him, adjusting his tie and doing a last double check to make sure his hair was just right. "It’s one banquet and we haven’t seen my parents in a year."

When you were pleased with his appearance, you made your way back to the vanity, touching up your makeup and adjusting the knee-length black dress you decided on.

"Think we could go another year without seeing them," Bucky mumbled as he took a seat on your shared bed, waiting for you to finish up.

You set your lipstick down rather harshly, but Bucky didn’t even flinch. "Bucky," you groaned — your tone rather colder than normal. Seeing your parents was definitely not on the list of things you wanted to do with your night either, but for Bucky… he absolutely despised them. The feeling was a bit mutual between your parents and him.

They had never really been very welcoming nor were they very excited about the relationship and, boy, did they make sure you both knew it. If it wasn’t passive aggressive comments it was blatant ignoring or even avoidance.

Your parents had had their assumptions about Bucky before ever meeting him. When they had figured out who you were really seeing, they both, especially your dad, acted a bit cold towards mentions of him. Things only escalated when they actually came face to face with Bucky. But Bucky tried and was never anything but nice — at least until it came the snarky comments. When those started, his temper could go off a little. This, of course, only drove home the idea he wasn’t right for you in your parents’ mind.  

As results of repeated mishaps, invitations were never directly extended to Bucky. But, being an adult, you were at the point in the relationship where you were bringing him anyways. Truly, you just wanted everyone to get along and you were certain if they all just had a normal conversation they could maybe be at least civil.

So, that was how you always ended up with micro fights before seeing your family. Bucky swore up and down that nothing was going to change your stubborn parents, but you insisted that with time, they would have to come around to the man you loved. You were at a point where you really needed this.

"I’m just saying," he sighed and got up from the bed. You continued with your makeup as you watched him fidget around the room. It was an understandably uncomfortable position to be put in, you thought, but it would all come together one day — it had to at this point. Life changes were brewing but you didn’t want to think about that right now.

You applied the matte red lipstick as your finishing touch and placed it in your clutch. Getting back up from your vanity, you halted Bucky’s nervous movements with a soft touch on his shoulder. He turned to face you, a small frown playing at his lips.

"They’ll come around eventually," you said, fiddling with the heart-shaped charm necklace Bucky had gotten you for your last anniversary. "They gotta."

Your boyfriend gave you a weak smile and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Sure, doll."

***

You weren’t even 30 minutes into the banquet and Bucky had already downed two glasses of champagne. Despite the fact it could never get him drunk, he claimed it helped him to just relax a little and you didn’t fight it. Plus, the waitresses seemed happy to serve him which was entertaining for you to witness.

The hall was filled with New York aristocrats and it seemed like everyone wanted to stop you to say hello despite the fact they only knew you as your parents’ daughter. You played along well in the small talk, having been trained in this since you were just a child, but no matter what it never got enjoyable.

Finally, you saw your parents make their way into the room, allowing you to bid a farewell to some senator’s wife talking your ear off. Bucky sulked but followed behind you, nursing his fourth glass of champagne.

"Mom, dad," you greeted them each with a hug, careful not to disturb your mother’s precisely done hair-do. "How are you guys?"

Your mother was about to answer you until her eyes landed on Bucky, who was still lingering a few steps away from you. You could feel his eyes staring them down as he drank his champagne. You watched your parents’ expressions turn from delighted to cold as if a switch had been flipped.

"How was traffic?" You asked, turning your body to obstruct their view of your boyfriend. "We got here in a breeze."

Your mother brought her attention back to you as your father broke away, mumbling something about a client waving to him. You watched over your shoulder as he walked past Bucky giving him a tight smile. Bucky greeted him with a proper hello and wave, his smile faker than ever.

"I believe traffic was just fine," your mother finally answered you. It was a dumb question — they had a driver. Neither of them gave a rats ass about the traffic but it was something to keep their focus off of Bucky.

"Wonderful," you mustered out. Your forced, over-the-top smile was beginning to falter especially when you felt a presence come up right behind you. Your mother’s stance shifting gave away who it could be.

"Good evening," Bucky said as he exchanged his empty glass for a full one as a waitress zoomed past. He took a sip and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into him securely. You nearly wanted to roll your eyes at his antics. Even your mother eyed his grip with suspicion.

She cleared her throat and met Bucky’s stare, "James." Glancing around the room, she most likely was looking for your father as an escape, but turned back when proved impossible. "I didn’t realize you’d be attending tonight."

"Could never pass on a night out with my girl," he said with a cocky smirk. Now you could really roll your eyes. "Plus, I get to see all these wonderful people."

"I’m sure, yes," your mother’s voice was getting harsher. The calm before the storm. "Lots of great people you may have never met otherwise."

You appreciated that your parents thought so highly of you but, jeez, implying he was a second-class citizen? You didn’t need another reason to be nauseous.

"You’re absolutely right, ma’am," The sarcasm in Bucky’s voice was the final straw for you. With a frustrated sigh, you pulled his arm from your waist and dragged him with you to the silent auction table. You decided you could hide your anger by browsing the tacky items up for bidding.

You began inspecting some gold-plated silverware when you felt Bucky’s worrisome eyes on you.

"Interested in some new cutlery, doll?" He asked, still watching your eye wonder over to the bidding sheet.

"This was a bad idea," you confessed. Bucky was fairly certain you weren’t talking about silverware.

He sighed, bringing a comforting arm around your waist. You melted into his touch instantly. "No, babe, this isn’t on you — it’s on me. I gotta stop throwing gasoline on the fire."

You shook your head, "No, things just may always be a mess with them."

Bucky was at a loss. Sure, there had been some unpleasant lunches and equally awkward dinners with them but this… this wasn’t right. You never threw in the towel and Bucky admired that. For everything you two endured, you always had some hope — especially about this. He knew how much it meant to you for your parents to like him and he tried so hard in the beginning, but they gave nothing back. It was wearing down on him, too, but he did it all for you and he reminded himself of that every time you pulled him to these functions.

"Babe, I-,"

"I’m running to the restroom," you pulled yourself out of his grip before he could throw anything else out there. With your head down, you weaved your way to the restrooms in the lobby of the hall.

You didn’t know how, but the women’s room was mostly empty. There were a few touching up their makeup but once they left, you were alone in the overly dramatic restroom.

You placed your clutch on the counter and stared at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were starting to get red as they threatened to water and you mentally cursed yourself for not wearing waterproof mascara. The most you could do was reapply your lipstick and waste mindless time in here. Better to not even think about what was waiting on the other side.

You were taking your sweet time fixing your appearance when the restroom door opened. Watching through the mirror, you were greeted by your mother making her way in. She stood on the opposite side of the restroom, arms folded, waiting for you to finish.

"What?" You asked, your words coming out weaker than expected.

"Just wanted to make sure you were okay," she said, but you knew by her tone that wasn’t just it. There was a weird silence before she spoke up again, "You know, being with a guy that makes you so frazzled isn’t ideal."

Ah, there it was. You tossed your lipstick on the counter — the second time this evening your lipstick has been the target of your frustration — and turned to face her. Your posture was no more of a wounded puppy and instead a bubbling anger was rising in you.

"This isn’t just about him and you know it."

Your mother sighed and crossed the room to you. She placed her purse on the counter, facing you. She tried grabbing for your hands, but you hesitantly pulled them away.

"Your father and I just don’t understand," she explained. "After all the doctors and politicians we brought around you went for him-,"

"Mom, I’m pregnant."

The silence that fell over the restroom was heavier than you had anticipated. Your mother, usually so poise and confident, was entirely speechless. Her previous rant was totally forgotten and now she just stared at you, more stunned than ever.

"You? You’re-,"

You nodded, "Pregnant."

"With his-,"

You cut her off with another nod. She looked in awe staring at you, probably wondering if she could make any note of a belly bump yet. Despite not outwardly saying it, there was a twinkle of excitement in her eyes. You were her only child, after all. Grandchildren were only going to come from you.

"I’ve always wanted you all to get along, you know, but right now I need it more than ever," you admitted, fiddling with chipped nail polish on your finger nails.

She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, compelling you to look up at her. Her eyes were still in amazement and a slight smile played at her lips. "We’ve always just wanted what’s best for you."

"And Bucky is what’s best for me."

Your mother retracted at that. She began looking around again as if still unsure when it came to her words. It didn’t surprise you — you hadn’t exactly been so defiant before. Sure, your little acts of rebellion were boiled down to continuously bringing Bucky around, but standing up to your family… it took a lot for you and came from such a dear place in your heart. That had to count for something.

"Well," she let out a dramatic sigh. "I guess we’re going to have to start considering that. Especially for the little one."

You couldn’t help but smile at that attempt of agreement. She said so much yet so little at the same time, but you decided to just take it for what it was worth. They were at least going to try, according to your mother, and that had to be the start of something.

After a much needed hug, you two exited the restroom and were greeted by your father and Bucky. They were standing a good ten feet apart but they both were still alive, so, that was another win in your eyes.

Before Bucky could even get a word in, you wrapped your arms around his torso, nearly knocking the super soldier back in surprise. He was stunned at first, but eventually wrapped his arms around you.

Bucky chuckled, "Everything alright?"

"I told her."

You felt his entire body tense up. His grip on you started to falter. Pulling away, you looked up at him. He was staring at the wallpaper across the hall, totally unsure of how to react.

"Honey?" You asked, worriedly. He looked down at you briefly before turning to your parents who were staring at you two in the same sense of confusion.

"You told her?"

You let go of the hug and moved back to face your boyfriend fully. He looked unbelievably nervous — from his uneasy stance to his terrified expression, the soldier was threatening to crumble before your eyes. You grabbed his hand in some comfort and luckily he accepted it, but he still wasn’t looking at you.

"She did tell me," your mother confirmed. Your father looked between you two now even more confused.

"Told you what?" Your father’s voice was unsurprisingly booming. It would’ve made you jump had you not expected this outcome.

You glanced at Bucky, who was still a shocked mess, and took a deep breath, "I’m pregnant."

The chilling silence was not unlike the one had just witnessed in the restroom with your mother. The only difference was your father was looking at all of you like it was some kind of joke, but you held your ground and Bucky’s hand.

"Pregnant?" He finally asked in absolute disbelief, his voice much louder than expected. You figured he would take this rougher than your mother had but being on the verge of blowing a gasket in public? Unimaginable for someone like him.

You didn’t trust your voice, so you just gave a nod. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Bucky’s gaze shift to the floor. Gosh, you wanted nothing more than to just crawl into bed with your man and forget tonight happened.

"I-,"

Your father was about to go off on some angry rant, probably about disappointment,  given his harsh posture and pointed finger, but was cut off by a group of ladies entering the lobby. When he remembered where he was, he reeled it way back in.

"Dinner tomorrow. Our place," He adjusted his tie and resumed his composed figure. "We will discuss it then."

"Okay," you mumbled with a small nod. He looked like he was ready to storm out, but on his way to the door, he abruptly stopped in front of you two. Your father took your free hand and waited for you to look at him.

"I love you, you know?" His face was still so stern and harsh but the words gave some comfort. These were your parents after all — you would’ve went into hiding if this was going to make them disown you.

You gave another nod, "Love you, too."

With a pat of the hand, you watched him exit the banquet hall. Your mother was about to follow him out before stopping.

"When it settles, he’s going to be so excited to be a grandpa," she said and gave a kiss on your cheek. She gave Bucky a polite nod and he returned it with a stiff wave. "See you two tomorrow."

When they were out of the building, you turned to your boyfriend who still looked like he may pass out. Cupping his face, you gave a loving kiss to his lips which he happily returned.

"Everything’s going to be okay," you promised with another peck on the lips. Bucky’s hands came up to once again wrap you in a hug.

His forced a chuckle, "I can’t believe you told them." Despite the light nature of his tone, his rigid body told you he was still trying to come to terms with the situation.

"I’m sorry," you mumbled, trying to soothe his worried look. "It just slipped out and — and it’s my mom! I just wanted-,"

"Hey, hey." He hushed you, running his hands up and down your back. "I get it, but can you blame me for being shocked?"

You smiled, shaking your head. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Bucky whispered. "Can we please get out of here? I’ve had enough of these big shots."

You let out laugh, happily agreeing, and ventured out into the city.

[minshookie]

Pillow Fight.

Pairing |Bully!Jungkook x reader

Genre | smut, angst.

Summary | “Another day spent babysitting your bully’s little sister...you should really quit but the pay is just too good.”

!warnings! | 18+ mature language, bullying, mentioned sexual acts, mentions of past bullying, NON-CON,financial struggle, Jungkook is a really shitty big brother.

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|

(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [open for request] words: 1k.

A/N: I rewrote this so many times! Lmfaoo! Buuut get ready because some of requests yall sent in are 🥵🥵.

“Orange is your best color.” Aera chirped dragging the paint drowned brush along your pinky nail. “I think you’re just saying that because it’s your favorite.” The young girl giggles continuing to color your fingertips. “Uhm are you staying all night miss y/n?” Nodding you brushed back her wild strands of hair softly with your free hand. “Soooo like a sleep over?!” She squeals closing the bottle of nail polish, her eyes glittering as she gazes into yours intent for answers. “Yeah!” You matching her energy only made her more excited, “yay! And-and can Jungkookie Oppa come?!” She bounced on her knees smiling ear to ear, fumbling over her words.

“Oh...Jungkook huh... Hmm what about no boys aloud?” You planted the idea praying she’d take the bait as you started cleaning her toy makeup, giving her a chance to think it over.

“What? Jungkook isn’t a boy, he’s my brother!” Giggling she pounced from the couch striding towards his room. At this point all you could do is laugh at her innocent lack of logic. She looks so happy who are you to burst her little bubble, for all you know Jungkook might want nothing to do with the both of you and your little mock slumber party.

Closing the toy purse you hid it back away in the large toy chest she pulled from her room, leaving it open you cleared the floor of the multicolored blocks and dolls. A whisper of a laugh escapes your lips as you overhear Aera’s begs and pleas mixed with Jungkook’s refusals....but finally the door creaks.

Please no. “Y/n, guess what?!” She drags your name out as her small foot steps pitter the floor, Jungkook’s thudding. She comes down the hall pulling Jungkook by his middle finger. “As if you weren’t undesirable enough, neon nails really helped it out.” Grumbling he throws himself on the couch you just tidied up. “Nice to see you again too Kook.”Aera bounced on her toes watching us have confrontation, unaware of the negative connotations.

Truth is you hadn’t seen Jungkook since you left for college and you hadn’t planned on seeing him ever again...that is until relationships fell apart, your roommate left and things got hard to pay for, and you were two bills away from being homeless. the job up at university paid $9.50 an hour while the busy Jeons still offered $12.00 the choice was clear. Take a little break, live with family, get back on your feet, and try again. But little did you know Jungkook decided to stay local with his schooling.All this aside the work was easy since Aera had grown a bit, but the thought of dealing with the person that made your life hell for four years made you want to quit daily.

“Can I do your nails Too?!” “No Aera, now be cute and get me something to drink.” He orders putting his feet on the coffee table eyeing you up and down,disgustingly. “No Aera I’ll get it.” You grabbed her shoulder. “No y/n! I’ll do it, I’ll do it quickly!” Setting free she bolted for the kitchen.

“So, you went to college got broke and came back sniveling to my rich parents?” You rolled your eyes, looking in the direction of the kitchen for any sign of Aera. “I thought you would’ve out grown your asshole phase, that’s very high school of you Kook.” He scoffed defensively, “and you using babysitting as your main income is high school of you, what happened your little rapper boyfriend leave you high and dry?” “You shut the fuck up.” You snapped back my reflex. He held his hands up in defense, “Suga blew up and left you in the shit show not my fault.” We argued in hushed tones as Aera ran back into sight.

“Here you go kookie!” She handed Jungkook the can of Coke, heaving for air. “Aera this is warm, cold...I want something cold, go try again.” He handed her the can, “oh okay Oppa sorry!” And off she was back down the hall. He turned back to me, “why’d he leave you...couldn’t make him bust?” you tried to hide it but his words stung, you’d been avoiding anything to do with Yoongi since he’d ghosted you weeks before you left for college. Bigger things waited for him in the world of fame, and you weren’t in the blueprint.

“Fuck you Jungkook.” “Come try it bitch.” Smirking he was satisfied with himself as you stood almost defeated. “Oh I forgot you’re scared of sex.” “Leave the high school rumors behind...ran out a material? Maybe you should get out more.” He rolled his eyes scoffing, “shut up before I make you.” “You like to pretend I’m still afraid you...make me, little boy...since you insist on being one.”

Jungkook’s come back was cut short by the thumping of Aera’s feet. “Kookie!Kookie! Ice! I got it all by myself!” She gave the cup of ice to Jungkook and then the Coke. “Good job, now pour it.” He handed them back and you took it from her small clutches much to Jungkook’s disliking. You poured him the drink, pushing his feet off the small table and placing the glass. “She’s not your little slave Jungkook.” He kept eye contact picking up the glass, “you’re right she’s not, you...go get me a coaster now or you’re fired.” His eyebrow arched cockily, his free hand waving you away. “As if! You can’t fire me Jungkook.” He got Aera sitting her on the couch beside him as she caught her breath. “Is that so? Try me, my parents might have hired you but you work for us...now work.” His gaze alone told you he wasn’t playing with you anymore.

Angered you stormed to kitchen pulling a coaster from the table before swiftly Turing on your heels, almost jumping out of you skin as you met face to face with Jungkook. “What the fuck do you want now?” “You said some shit I didn’t like.” You threw the coaster back on the marbled table, “I wish you’d grow up already.” You atempt to go past him but his muscular arm halts your plans. “I have to go do my job-” “I put on her show she’ll be good for the next hour.”

You don’t remember Jungkook being so brooding he looked down at you, his new tall posture slightly off putting yet attractive. “What now, you wanna talk it out?” You walked away siting at the island, “I’ll leave you be if you leave me to do my job Kook.” He came behind you, trapping you in his arms. Tattoos, he’d change a lot but not enough to leave you alone.

“I see you came and got the coaster, scared of me now?” What an ass, “no I need this job.” He hummed from behind you, no sign of him letting you go. “You know y/n, you’ve grown quite a bit.” You became more and more uncomfortable by the second, his breathing became deeper. “I’m aware, so have you.” Rudely he became handsy, groping your breast earning a shocked reaction. “Jungkook please-” “scared of me?” He squeezed you with a little too much force making you give a Yelp, he had you trapped, you were nothing but a game to him. “Shhh shh don’t want to startle my baby sister while she rests...that wouldn’t be very babysitter like of you now would it?”

Silent what could you even say? He had you trapped, your position less than hopeless he’d made you feel small and that’s exactly what he wanted. He’s always wanted that ever since you’d met him, and he always succeeds. He intruded under your top, skating his chilled hand over your skin leaving cold bumps in his wake he held your bra covered breast.

You griped his unexposed wrist trying at escape, knowing fully how downhill this could get. “Oh is the brave girl afraid?” “N-no your hands are cold as Ice Jungkook...please stop.” You lied continuing to push his muscular arm. “Oh? Let me warm them for you.” He removed his hand from the island almost causing you to topple over. Reaching down he found himself with his hand now between your legs fiddling with the pant button. “Jungkook! Please no!” His hand along your chest he pulled you back into his sculpted figure.

“You must not value your job as much as you say, scream again and you’ll be broke and fucked over and to think I actually liked you a bit.” He came to your ear, sniffing your hair eerily. “Little did I know how much of a bitch you were, I loved you when you were shy.” He finally got through your button, getting to your panties he gave you a two fingered massage along your core, you strained not to react to the unwanted pleasure. “Look at you pathetic and wet I bet you’re so needy I could make you cum right here.” He began to focus his nimble fingers on your aching clit. “Fucking stop it.” You could only whimper. “Why should I, we’re old enough now and you’re sopping through your panties I know you want it.”

He invaded under your bra, fondling your hardening bud. “I loved you when you were weak and innocent...I know she’s hiding deep inside of you, the little girl that would cry over me-”

“Miss y/n! I’m tired!” Her voice softly called from the living room. Saved by an angel, finally Jungkook stoped his assault backing off of you with a groan. “You’ll meet me in my room when she’s in bed, or else.” He grumbled leaving you behind to collect yourself, how could bad get so much worse?

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 30 – Written in the Stars

Chapter 1     Chapter 29

“Congratulations Officer Grayson!” Bruce boomed, raising his glass along with the rest of the room of friends and family.  A loud cheer rose up in agreement with his comment.

Dick smiled at them graciously and clinked his champagne glass with Marinette’s juice glass, pulling her closer into his side with his other hand.  Marinette squeezed him back and looked up at him with a proud smile.

“Finally, someone who can fix my tickets,” Jason cheered.

“Not going to happen. In fact, I might write more up for you. Did you know parking your motorcycle in an alleyway is a moving violation?” Dick answered with a smirk.

Jason gaped at him, every inch of him conveying the betrayal he felt until he finally looked down to Lucy in his arms with a sour look.  “Man, fuck the police.  Can you say that?  Fuck. The.  Police.” He enunciated each word slowly for her.

“Language Master Jason,” Alfred chided.

“Jason, do not teach my children to badmouth their father,” Marinette warned with an accompanying glare.

Jason huffed and returned his attention to Lucy.  “Fine whatever.  But the cursing’s okay, right, Pixie?”

“No,” Dick answered quickly before Marinette could respond.  He really wasn’t confident what her answer would be considering the language she used when she and Jason were hanging out.

“Wasn’t asking you, Dickhead,” Jason singsonged while making faces for Lucy.

“Don’t badmouth their father while they can hear you, Jason,” Marinette repeated with a sharper edge to her voice this time.  “And I’m fine with you teaching them to curse as long as you’re willing to deal with the repercussions of Alfred and my Mother finding out exactly where they learned it from.”  She shrugged casually as she said it but the smirk on her face when she looked up at Dick made it clear she knew exactly how much of a threat that was.

Jason pouted and focused on Lucy.  “Your Grandmother and Grandfather are both deceptive bad asses.  Never cross either of them.” The room broke in laughter as Alfred grinned smugly and nodded in approval.

“So what are you going to do now, Officer Grayson?” Stephanie asked as she bounced Rob to quiet his fussing.

Dick rubbed the back of his neck.  “I don’t really know.  Hang out with the family, I guess.”

“I have a celebratory dinner planned unless you have other plans, Master Dick,” Alfred stated, looking at Marinette questioningly.

Dick looked back and forth between the two of them for a moment before answering cautiously.  “I don’t think I do.  Do I?”

“It’s up to you.  I was thinking maybe we could go out for a celebratory dinner.  Together. Just the two of us,” Marinette offered quietly.

“Like on a date?” His face brightened considerably.

“If you want it to be,” she answered shyly, suddenly not able to look in his eyes.  Suddenly, it felt dangerous to offer.  Her heart was pounding.  What if he changed his mind, which was ridiculous because he still acted the same as he had when they first started dating.  But some part of Marinette, the anxiety controlled part, insisted there was still a chance, and as always happened when anxiety entered the arena, it took over, regardless of rationality.

Dick wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him, adoration shining in his eyes. “I do.”

Marinette let out a relieved sigh and an exhilarated smile spread across her face.  “Great!  I know just the place.”  A devious glint appearing in her eye.  The same look she got whenever she had come up with a brilliant plan.  She looked him up and down, taking in the dress blues he was still wearing from his Academy graduation.  “You should change before we go though.” She looked down at her dress. “I should too if we’re taking the bike.”

“I’ll watch the rug rats while you’re gone,” Jason offered as he wiggled Lucy’s hand that was wrapped around his finger.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll watch over the infants to ensure they are safe and adequately mentally stimulated while they are awake,” Damian offered loudly, a confident look on his face.

Dick raised his eyebrows in surprise at Damian and looked down to Marinette to see if he was really hearing what he thought he was.  That was by far the strangest outcome of the situation, Damian taking his position as the twins’ uncle with deathly seriousness.  He watched over them like one of his pets, until they started crying. Then the twins were their parent’s or someone else’s problem.

Marinette smiled knowingly at him and nodded almost imperceptibly to assure him that Damian was in fact offering to babysit.  Dick subtly glanced to the more responsible people in the room to see if they would be there as well.  Barbara, Alfred, and Bruce all nodded at him to assure him they would stay as well.

“I’d help too, but… I have plans,” Adrien shrugged, deftly changing the topic of conversation before another fight over who the best uncle was could break out between Jason and Damian. Which was absolutely ridiculous anyway. Clearly, he was, precisely because he did things like taking this hit.

“With Wally?” Marinette asked innocently.

“Yeah,” Adrien answered a little too breathlessly.

“Ooooooohhhhh,” Marinette teased with a knowing smirk.   Dick grinned.  He had introduced Adrien to the Titans when they stopped by to meet the twins and take a second shot at meeting Marinette, this time without them having to hide anything and with Plagg sequestered in Dick’s bedroom, nowhere near Garth.  As expected, Wally and Adrien hit it off extremely well, the enthusiastic, bubbly, romantics, that they were.

“Shut up.  It’s not like that,” he grumbled looking away from them. He wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction of seeing his lovesick expression.

“Yes, it is,” Marinette, Dick, and Stephanie all chimed at the same time.

Adrien’s cheeks blushed a deep rose color and he growled halfheartedly at them as he left.  “Good luck,” Marinette called to him.  He waved and stuck his tongue out at her as he closed the door.  Marinette giggled and turned back to Dick.  “I’m going to feed the twins while you’re changing.”

“Okay.  I’ll take a quick shower too then.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek before making his way to his bedroom.

Marinette nodded and took Lucy from Jason, who only gave her up grudgingly.  “And we’re going to get you ready, too,” Stephanie informed her as she slung her free arm over Marinette’s shoulder.

Marinette laughed and shook her head.  “We’re going to have about two hours between when they eat and when I have to be back to feed them again.  I’m not wasting any of that time on appearances.  If Dick is still willing to go on a date with me after sharing a room with me when I hadn’t showered in I don’t know how many days, he will be fine with me not having a ton of makeup on.”

“Okay fine,” Stephanie groaned before immediately brightening again.  “I’ll do stuff while you’re nursing then,” Stephanie insisted, completely ignoring Marinette’s objections.

Marinette sighed and shook her head.  This was not worth the effort.  She was not willing to put what little energy she had into debating personal boundaries and priorities with Stephanie, and apparently Cass, judging by the excited glint in her eye.  “Fine. Just don’t get any makeup or hairspray on Lucy or Rob while they’re eating.”

Stephanie squealed and handed Rob off to Barbara as she and Cass raced to her room to get everything ready. They only had about ten to fifteen minutes to treat Marinette like their own personal doll and they weren’t about to waste any of it.  Marinette looked over to Barbara and Tim with a questioning glance.  “Either of you two want to get in on this?”

Tim waved his hands in front of him.  “Hell no. I’ve seen them in this mode.  I’m not getting in the middle of that.  Good luck.”

Barbara laughed and rolled over to her.  “I’ll come to help.  At the very least I can hold one baby while you feed the other one… and laugh at you while they work their magic”

Marinette giggled at her as she rolled her eyes.  “So very magnanimous of you.”

<><><><><> 

Dick’s entire body relaxed as he sped through Gotham’s streets.  He had missed driving through the streets of Gotham with Marinette’s arms wrapped around him.  They hadn’t done it since she was only a few weeks into the pregnancy then quickly had to switch to a car when it became too dangerous and awkward for her to ride with him. He loved feeling the rush of the wind against him and the warmth of Marinette’s arms and body pulled tight against him.  The way their bodies moved in sync with one another as he turned or changed lanes.

“Make a left here,” Marinette yelled.  He nodded his acknowledgement and made the turn.  They were in a very familiar neighborhood.  “Right,” she yelled again.  He nodded again and made the turn.  They drove straight for a few blocks until Marinette yelled the final time. “We’re here.”

Dick chuckled and shook his head as he pulled off his helmet.  “Batburger?” He raised his eyebrow at her.

Marinette shrugged and pulled her helmet off as well, giving him a sweet smile.  “Thought we could try it again when I’m not pregnant.  See if it really was just the pregnancy that made it taste so good.”

“Want to eat in the park again?” he asked as he secured their helmets.  He took her hand, entwining their fingers as they walked into the restaurant.  

“Yeah, if you don’t mind,” she nodded at him.

“I think that sounds brilliant,” he assured her, pulling her against him and circling his arms around her waist.

“You ready to order or what?” the cashier asked in an annoyed voice.

Marinette giggled into Dick’s chest.  “Not a fan of romance,” she whispered.

“Two batburger deluxe meals, please,” he looked over to Marinette to get her approval.  When she nodded in agreement he returned his focus to the cashier to pay.

Their order was done in just a few minutes and a few minutes after that they were looking out over the same park and sitting on the same bench they had sat at during their first date. Marinette took her first bite and quirked her lips to the side before continuing to chew.

Dick laughed and swallowed his bite.  “So, what do you think?”

“It was definitely the pregnancy.  But it’ll do. It was more about the nostalgia.” She grinned up at him and took another bite.

“How about you?  What do you think?  Are you excited for your first day as a Gotham Police Officer?” She grinned up at him, the proud look gleaming in her eyes again.

He smiled at the look, his chest puffing out ever so slightly at the way she was looking at him.  “I am.  I’m really hoping I will be able to make a difference, within the police department more than anything else.  I think if I can make a difference there, weed out as much corruption as I can, then that will feed out into the community, more than anything I could do as a single police officer.”

Marinette nodded in agreement.  “I think you’re right.  I’m worried about you though.”

Dick grimaced and considered not telling her the next part, but he’d promised her and, more importantly, himself, that he wasn’t going to keep things from her just because it might worry her.  He took a deep breath before continuing.  “I’ve already been approached by one of the families to work for them.  Saw him talking to a few other cadets as well.”

“Dick!” Marinette gasped, eyes wide with concern.

“It’s okay,” he assured her with more calm than he felt.  “Commissioner Gordon and I expected it.  It would actually be more concerning if I didn’t get approached by anyone.”

“I know.  It just makes me nervous.” She looked down at her burger and took another bite so he wouldn’t see her concerned frown.  “Your fellow officers are supposed to have your back, not stick a knife in it.”

“I can handle myself. I’ve been trained since I was nine to take on more than a few rampant officers.”  He puffed out his chest in an exaggerated motion to distract her.  “I’m like Captain America in the elevator.  I can take on all of them with nothing more than a stick and win.”

Marinette giggled and buried her face in his shoulder trying very hard not to laugh at him.  She finally pulled her face out of his shoulder to look up at him in adoration.  “You’re better than Captain America,” she assured him.  “Just as skilled, better moves, smarter plans, better leadership, and all without the need of a super serum.”  She brushed his hair away from his forehead and traced along the side of his face down to his jaw.  “And much handsomer.”

She guided his face to hers and pressed her forehead to his.  She let out a deep breath before continuing.  “Just… make sure you come home to me, to us, every night.”  She looked back up at him with concern etched deep in her features.  “Please.”

“Every night?  Forever?” Dick asked hopefully.

Marinette paused to think about it.  That was what she had meant.  Without overthinking it, without letting anxiety dictate her thoughts, that was what she had wanted.  That was what she was asking him for.  They had been waiting so they could figure out some issues they had between them and within themselves.  Dick acted to protect without sharing.  She hid away entire parts of her life.  They both had needed to learn to open up more.  

She was ready.  She was ready to break down the last bastion of secrecy hidden in the depths of a magical fortification.  If Dick wanted, she was ready to let him in.  The question was whether he was ready.

She nodded slowly, her forehead still pressed against his, her breath fanning across his face.  “I’m ready.  I’m ready to move forward, but I don’t want to rush you.  I don’t want to rush us if we aren’t both ready.  I want to make sure we last.”

Dick grinned and ran his knuckles along her cheek.  “We’ll last.  It was written in the stars.  The universe brought us together.  And we’ll take on the universe if it tries to tear us apart.”

“And win,” Marinette giggled affectionately, the smile on her face brilliant and hopeful.

Dick grinned against her lips.  “And win,” he agreed solemnly.  “That’s a very important part.”  She grinned at him and gently brushed her lips against his.  She started to pull away but he followed her, pressing his lips against hers more urgently.  She pushed back against him, bunching her fists into his shirt, pulling him closer with it.  He wound his arms around her waist, pulling her into his lap.

She whimpered against his mouth as his hand moved up her back until it wound into her hair.  The sound made his heart race.  God, he had missed this feeling, the feeling of her lips against his, of her body against his, the exhilaration her sounds produced in him. He missed knowing she was his to touch, that she wanted him to do it.  He missed the way they fit, like a perfectly engineered puzzle box, each piece fitting into the other so precisely, anything else felt wrong.  

She moved her arms around his neck, working her fingers into his hair to pull him closer.  She needed to be closer.  She had missed his warmth and the way he touched her and now she couldn’t get enough. She needed more.  She tilted her head to deepen the kiss, opening her mouth to grant him access.  She moaned as his hands traced her face and worked down her sides and back up her back.

She finally pulled away breathless after a few minutes and smirked at him.  “Definitely more enjoyable without the nausea.”  She rested her head against his neck as she fought to recover her breathing.

“Glad to hear it,” he laughed.  He hugged her closer to him, keeping his arms tight around her.  “I missed kissing you,” he whispered as if afraid to break a spell.

Marinette grinned and kissed his neck.  “Me too. I missed kissing you, hugging you, being held by you,” she looked pointedly at their situation, “sitting in your lap, calling you my boyfriend.”

He hummed in agreement and nuzzled his head against hers.  “I’d prefer fiancé or husband, but I’ll take boyfriend for now.”  He smiled thinking of the ring he already had stuffed away in his drawer.  

“You’re ready for that move?” she pulled away in surprise.

“I’ve been ready for months.  Even after our fight, I’ve never changed my mind.  I love you Marinette.  I am completely, utterly, ridiculously, unapologetically in love with you.”  He leaned down to kiss her, slowly, sweetly, passionately.  “I know what I want my future to be.  I’m just waiting for you to decide if it’s what you want too.”

Marinette stared at him in awe.  She shook her head and buried it in his neck again as tears began to fall.  “Marinette?” he asked carefully, trying to pull away far enough to look her in the eye.  He wasn’t expecting tears.  That was… a concerning reaction.  He didn’t think suggesting they eventually marry would make her cry.  Damn it, way to kill the mood just as they were getting back to a great place.

She took a breath to steady herself, a breath that very much smelled like Dick. She pulled away enough to look up at him, love shining in her eyes.  “I don’t know exactly what I want for my future, but every time I picture it, you’re there with me.  Every iteration of it you’re there with me.  Sometimes with just Lucy and Rob, sometimes with more kids.  Sometimes in the manor, sometimes in our own place.  Sometimes in Gotham, sometimes somewhere else.  Sometimes I’m running a major fashion label, sometimes I’ve become a WE employee.  Sometimes you’re still an officer, sometimes you’re a detective.  But every version, every iteration, you’re there with me.  I know that much.  That’s all I know.  I love you and I want my future to be with you.”

He examined her eyes to look for any indication of uncertainty in her words, but her eyes were confident and adoring.  He surged forward to capture her lips in another searing, breathtaking kiss. The moan she let out into his mouth made his body react viscerally.  They needed to get somewhere more private before they continued.  “Maybe we should take this home and away from prying eyes,” he gasped out when he was finally able to force himself to break away.  She nodded wordlessly, still trying to catch her breath.

<><><><><> 

“Perfect timing,” Barbara smiled at them.  Lucy was rooting into her chest searching for something to latch onto. “They just started fussing and searching for milk in places they won’t find it.”

Marinette laughed and took her from Barbara.  “Sorry about that.”

“No problem.  I feel worse for her.  She’s never going to find what she’s looking for here.  Hate to be a disappointment.”

“If it makes you feel better, they find me to be just as much of a disappointment,” Dick offered.  “No milk, no value.”  He shrugged.

“Come here, sweetie.  Don’t let them shame you for knowing what you want.”  She stuck her tongue out at them and left the room with a smile.  

Dick picked up Rob from Duke with a smile and a nod of thanks.  “Anytime,” he shrugged as he handed Rob off.  “So… how did it go?”

“Hm?” Dick responded absentmindedly, checking Rob to see if his clothes needed to be changed too or just his diaper.

“How did it go?  How did the date go?” Stephanie elaborated annoyed by his lack of attention.

“Oh,” Dick’s eyes brightened and he grinned excitedly.  “It went brilliantly.  We’re back together and we know where we want to go with our future.”

“So… proposing within the year or within a few months?” Tim asked with a smirk.

“Pft. Knowing Dickieboy, within a few hours,” Jason scoffed popping a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

Dick ticked his head to the side.  “Considered it, but I want to make it romantic.”  He turned to Tim with a wink.  “Give me a few days.  Come on, Rob. Let’s get you changed and ready for Mommy.  Night guys.” He smiled at them as he carried Rob to the family bedroom.

“Have fun tonight,” Stephanie called after him with a laugh.

“No more babies tonight,” Jason called immediately after.  “Turn the movie up.  I don’t want to hear them ignoring me,” he grumbled to Duke.

Dick made it up to the family bedroom just in time to change Rob’s diaper, reswaddle him, and switch Lucy for Rob so Marinette could nurse him.  She took him with a smile.  “Did I hear Jason yelling?”

“Yeah, he was just saying how happy he was that we’re back together,” Dick assured her with a laugh.

Marinette chuckled then immediately quieted when the movement startled Rob. “Sorry Rob,” she cooed at him.

Dick swaddled Lucy quickly and laid her down in her crib.  “How about I set up a movie in the other room?” he whispered into her ear as he gently ran his hand over Rob’s head.

Marinette hummed in appreciation and pressed her head against his.  “That sounds wonderful,” she whispered back.

He kissed her temple and quickly made his way to his bedroom.  He pulled out a few fuzzy blankets and navigated to a movie he thought she would like.  He ran down to the living room where the rest of the family was and grabbed one of their bowls of popcorn and a few drinks.  “Thanks,” he called out to them as he ran away before anyone could stop him. He set up the popcorn and drinks on the side table and propped up a few more pillows for them to lean against while they watched the movie, if they did in fact watch the movie, though he really hoped they would be too busy doing something else.

He kicked off his shoes and double checked that everything looked perfect. Assured that it was, he made his way back to the family bedroom.  He had expected Marinette to be done already and come find him.  He silently opened the door to check on them and smiled at the scene in front of him.  That was why Marinette hadn’t come to find him.  She had fallen asleep nursing Rob.  Rob was lazily sucking at her breast in his sleep.  Dick shook his head at her.

Dick picked up Rob and put him back in his crib.  He fussed sleepily for a few seconds, trying to get back to the nipple, but quickly fell back asleep.  Marinette opened her eyes at the movement, arms reaching out to keep Robert from falling. She looked up at Dick with a hazily confused look.  “What’s going on?”

Dick smiled at her and made his way back to her, picking her up in a princess hold and carrying her to her bed.  “We have the rest of our lives to watch a movie or do anything else.  Tonight, I think you need sleep,” he told her quietly as he gently laid her down, pulling a blanket over her.

She hummed in response and pulled the blanket closer around her.  He kissed her cheek and ran his fingers over her face lovingly before pulling away to get ready for bed.  Before he could move away from her, she caught his hand and pulled him down next to her.  She looked up at him with soft, affection filled eyes.  “Please stay?”

Dick’s heart stuttered at the request, so open and vulnerable and filled with love. He smiled at her and climbed into bed next to her as she lifted the blanket for him.  “Always,” he whispered into her hair.  He settled in behind her and gently pulled her against him, feeling her warmth against him as she curled into him and he curled around her in a perfect harmony.

The End

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123 @lady-bee-fechin @thewitchwhowaited @redscarlet95 @jayjayspixiepop @alessialeone6997

[fraidy-farfelle]

This is my attempt at the Fluff ABCs for Frankie the Undead. Please be gentle with criticism because I cry easily. I’ve taken some ideas from @lovestruck-lasagna.

Taglist: @writingfromthetomb @beebubb

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Your dry sense of humor. It perfectly matches his insults and he doesn’t have to go out of his way to make you laugh. He just says what he’s thinking and you laugh and agree.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Frankie appreciates a good smile, and for many reasons. He learned to read smiles (fake vs real) early on and uses it to gauge people, so he pays particular attention by default. He’s a sucker for cute dimples, and loves the way your nose scrunches and your eyes close.

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

He loves late at night when you share the couch and he can read a good book, sip on some whiskey, or puff on a cigar. He really doesn’t care what you’re doing, he can tune out the TV or you prattling on about your day and make comments to show he’s listening. Put your feet in his lap, lay on top of him, make yourselves mummies in blankets, so long as he can reach his glass he doesn’t care. He just wants to be with you.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

Stay in date nights are his favorite. He doesn’t really like to “share” your attention. He likes to either cook a meal together or order takeout and watch a movie. Particularly black and white gangster ones, or older horror films. Likes to tease you if you get scared and grab onto him. He’ll pat your head and say something like “oh there there, don’t be scared! I won’t let the big, bad monster getcha!” (Like your neighbor isn’t a 7 ft tall children murdering clown demon) If you go out, he prefers less crowded places outdoors.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

He’s a spitfire and he knows it. He tends to explode and then after a few minutes apologizes gruffly and explains himself. “WHY WERE YA OUT UNTIL MIDNIGHT, THATS SUCH A STUPID THING TO DO!” “Sorry, Frankie.” “…… ugh just, please get home earlier from now on. It’s dangerous and I worry about you.” Definitely doesn’t hug you close so you don’t see the relief and worry on his face. Nope!

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

He misses Amy desperately. He wants a little girl in his life again, although he’ll never ever admit it. He’s hesitant to make relationships because he doesn’t want to be hurt again. But, if you go out with him to the living world, you’ll catch him staring longingly at parents and daughters when he thinks you’re not looking. If you ask him what he’s looking at, he’ll shake his head and spit out a line about children being obnoxious but you can tell he’s blowing smoke.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

If the underworld wasn’t so dangerous, he’d love to drape you in the finest silks with diamonds and rubies dripping off of you. However he doesn’t want you to draw any unnecessary attention to yourself. So, he settles for things you don’t really see in public. He also doesn’t like to be found out about it. Your gas tank is filled, the bill you were worried about has mysteriously been paid, your favorite ice cream is in your freezer when you know you ate the last of it yesterday, and hey, didn’t you spend this $20? Why is it in your wallet? If you ever bring it up he’ll just shrug and say “How strange!”

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

He’s torn about PDA because he doesn’t want you to become a target because you’re associated with him, and people stare at him enough because of his appearance. But on the other hand, he wants to show the world that someone as worthless as him (don’t say that we love you Frankie) has such an amazing person that loves him. Will absolutely grab you and passionately make out with you with one hand on your ass and the other flipping the bird to the cheeky bastard that told the broad beside him to watch out for the zombie.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

Panic. Sheer panic. He’s so afraid to lose you, any injury is serious and cause for alarm.

Frankie:*bursting into a hospital lobby, screaming to be taken to f/n l/n immediately**running in the opposite direction the nurse pointed in panic**bursts into exam room 30 seconds later* “Y/N!!!!! I came as soon as I got the message, WHATS WRONG!!!”

You: *sitting on the table, reading phone* “Oh, I have a sprained ankle and they don’t want me to drive so can you give me a ride?”

Frankie:*slowly blinking* “Uh, yeah no problem…”

You: “lemme guess, you heard my name and hospital in the same sentence and ignored everything else.”

Frankie:*hanging his head* “go wait in the car, I’ll go apologize….”

J = Jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

Not actual jokes, but he loves to sit with you and insult people. He’s an incredibly sweet person to you, but no one else. (Except service people, like nurses and waitresses. Just the general public) he doesn’t think pranks are funny or practical, which is one of the many reasons he and LJ butt heads. If LJ or Will prank you or him, he’s raising hell.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

Love kissing your lips. He’s actually really self conscious about his mouth stitches and constantly frets they feel weird to you. Neck kisses are another favorite and are extremely private to him. He also likes to hold the back of your hand against his lips and tell you what he’s thinking, no matter how mundane. Kiss his stitches. Please. Just do it.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

He has trouble saying it to your face. He’ll whisper it to you when he thinks you’re sleeping, and he’s been known to leave little notes around for you to find. He thinks protecting you is the best way to show he cares.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

The day you finally broke down and told him you loved him. He knew as soon as he looked into your eyes and saw your smile his goose was cooked. He was very abrasive and hoping against hope that you’d leave him be. He knew you deserved better. He was so afraid to build a relationship and love again, he wanted to distance himself and if he was an asshole to you, it would be justified and you’d do it on your own. What he didn’t expect is for you to be so kind to him. Upon your initial meeting, he had been a little harsh, but helped you (if there’s enough interest I’ll do a fic about it) and so when he subsequently was a jerk to you, you were curious and determined to find out what he was hiding. He finally had been mean enough to make you cry. He had never regretted something he did before. He immediately wanted to cradle you to him and beg your forgiveness. Normally when he insulted you, you’d have a snarky retort in reply. But not this time. You fell to your knees and clung to his legs and demanded to know why he treated you so poorly and proclaimed your love for him. It was probably by accident and you were so distraught you didn’t even know it flew from your mouth, but hearing it, he couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t care about the consequences, he just wanted you. Hearing that you loved someone like him made him so happy, he knew he’d treasure the memory forever

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

Losing you. Period.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

What ISNT odd about this man?! A cute one is he always winks with his green eye.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

I HC that he was born in the 30’s, so he calls you “doll” a lot but only in private. He uses your name otherwise so it’s not as obvious to people watching you’re together. He will absolutely refer to you as “the dame” to others. The equivalent of “the boss” or “old lady.” “William! The Dame is trying to take a nap, so shut up or I’ll shoot you!” You call him stitches to tease him in private and are the only person allowed to do so.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?) Either taking naps or couch potato time. Also, low key likes to cook with you. He can’t cook for shit, but likes to “help” by handing you things or chopping things for you. Is a super good taste tester, self appointed.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

Stitches by Shawn Mendez (PLEASE DONT HURT ME!!)

We don’t have to Dance by Andy Black (referring to how he can’t really show you affection in public but he loves you)

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

He’s open about himself and what he’s thinking, and will always take what you say into consideration. He doesn’t like to keep things from you, but he does omit some detail about his jobs if you ask about them. He just feels like you don’t need to be stressed about it.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

LJ picked up on Frankie’s fondness of you almost instantly. He and Will decided to do what they could to get you together in the interest of making Frankie less of a grouch. If it hadn’t been for them insisting that he was good guy to you, you probably WOULD have let Frankie’s prickly nature drive you away. It took a year or so for you to break down.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?) A powder keg of insults, foul language, and bullets. Has actually never called you a name outright, and would absolutely never physically hurt you. When he was deliberately being rude to you, he’d insult your actions rather than you. “Stop acting like a dumb broad!” Vs calling you a bitch to your face. He usually calms down quickly, and is hardly ever angry at you, only when you put yourself in danger.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

He likes that he’s scary and tough looking so that when you’re with him, other men scatter pretty fast. Has had many occasions where he stepped away and someone came to flirt with you and he came back and had the pleasure of scaring them.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

You are not allowed to do anything dangerous, ever! Will teach you how to use a gun and how to counter things like chokeholds, so you’re less vulnerable. Will absolutely lose his mind if he learns you’ve put yourself at risk. He will shoot someone so fast for you. Takes every person as a threat to you and will pick fights with somebody that accidentally bumped into you. Do NOT test this man.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

You are an open book to him. He’s learned to read people well, and he takes his time studying you. Can tell if you’re getting sick before you can. More than once he’s handed you a bottle of Tylenol, leaving you bewildered, and shrugged and said to take them because you’ll have a headache in a few minutes. He can pick up on your emotions easily and has learned what to do to handle them.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

Honestly, marriage isn’t that important to him. He’s not opposed to the idea at all, but like you’ve been together for this long, you love each other, is it really necessary? You’d have to tell him you want to be officially married. He’ll buy you a ring, to show that you’re taken, if nothing else, but he’ll wear his around his neck under his tie so it’s not obvious he’s attached to anyone to discourage his rivals using you to get to him.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

The smell of your perfume. Holding you in his arms and taking deep breaths makes all of his troubles go away.

[karlheisenberganyone]

This is my first post so I’m sorry if it’s bad lmao but yeaaa, this is kinda my first smut post ya knowww- but yea if it’s bad I’m sorry. Also I’m only doing this cause I’m bored asfffff 😫😫 also I might only post smut cause that’s what I’m best at cause I’m one hörny bish lmfao. So yea no one under 18 read I guess.

SMUT UNDER THIS PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Karl Heisenberg x female reader smut 18+

“Only for a bit”

Warning: cursing , kinkyyy, getting tied up, choking, pet calling (sweetheart, kitten) you also using names like sir. Just sexy stuff 😩

Enjoy <3

You were one of the 4 daughters of Lady Dimitrescu. You, Bela, Daniela, and Cassandra were treated very well, with rich delicious wine and goods. You were different from them though. All 4 of them were vampires, but you, you are an ordinary human being. Instead of eating human meat and drinking human blood, you ate normal animal meat and drank fine wine or water. It wasn’t difficult living with this family, you actually really enjoyed it. You had a wonderful mother and wonderful sisters. You felt loved and accepted in their family. You have lived with the Dimitrescu’s since a very younge age. You were brought into the family by Mother Miranda, who apparently found you in the abounded village a few miles away.

Today there was also a very important meeting being held up, and mother insisted you came over to accompany her, which you happily accepted. You were now In your bedroom, getting ready, but stopped when you heard a knock. “Sister, mother told me to bring you this dress she got made especially for you” you heard Bella say behind the door. “Oh ok, thank you very much and tell mother I’m very grateful” you said opening the door and taking the box with the dress in it. “I will, also mother wants you ready in 20 minutes” Bella said disappearing into a swarm of flies. “Ok!” You said loudly but not too loud.

You opened the box to see a gorgeous emerald green dress, with a bunch of gold swirls on the front with green gems. You slowly and carefully put the dress on and then go style your hair. You weren’t really used to these long dresses, and looking very elegant. After 20 minutes, you walked down the stairs in your heels, slowly to not fall over and make a scene of yourself. “You look absolutely stunning, as always dear” you heard your mother call out to you. “Thank you mother, and I’m very grateful for this dress. Bella told me it was specifically made for me” you tell your mother with a soft smile. “Only the best for my sweet beautiful daughter’s” your mother replied back with a soft smile. “So are you ready dear?” Your mother asked turning to look at you. “Yes mother” you said, taking your coat off the hanger and same with mother.

It was early autumn, and it was getting a tiny bit chilly. You walked down the paths, walking past many trees turning all different colours to show it was autumn. It truly was a gorgeous sight to see. After a few minutes of walking, you get to your destination. Mother opens the front door to find Donna sitting peacefully, greeting you and mother, while her doll running around laughing maniacally. Moreau was quietly lighting the candles to bring a bit of light inside. And Heisenberg no where to be seen yet. After all you were 30 minutes early. Mother sat down in her regular spot, talking to Donna about how she has been and catching up. You, you went to talk to Moreau about how well he has been. After 10 minutes of sitting down and talking to Moreau about video games he has, the door was harshly opened by a heavy boot, belonging to no other than Heisenberg. Everyone brings their attention towards the man himself, looking at his toothy white smile, greeting everyone by tilting his hat a bit and walking towards his seat. “So the dog decided to come over” mother started. “Oh shut up you bitch, I always come here for meetings, usually a bit late, but today is different!” Heisenberg said glaring at her through his glasses, and then looking at you, you looking back at him with an angry expression. “What are you frowning at kitten?” He asked you. “I do not like it when someone calls my mother in appropriate names” you said with a harsh and calm tone. “But your “dear mother” has called me a dog so I have full right to call her a bitch” he said putting his hands over he chair, and crossing his legs. “Not like she isn’t right” you mumbled, loud enough for everyone to hear you, and your mother laughing quietly.

“You wanna fight or something kitten?” He asked you leaning forward now. “No, I just don’t like my mother being called harsh words that aren’t true” you said glaring at him. But when he was about to argue, Mother Miranda has arrived, leaving Heisenberg to close his mouth and groan loud enough for you to look at him.

After about an hour or so, the meeting ended. “Y/n, dear, please do me a favour and walk home. I must talk to Mother Miranda about something very important, and I won’t be coming home any time soon” mother said. You give her a reassuring smile and a nod, putting on your coat. You weren’t scared of walking home, because you knew how to fight. You could kill and fight with no problem, after all you do live with vampires. You walked out the door, and first thing you smell is the strong smell of cigar and whiskey, telling you Heisenberg was right there, and you were right. You turned your head towards him watching him smoking his cigar with a “really, here?” look. You shake your head a bit and start walking home, but before you could go you heard him talk. “I didn’t let you go anywhere kitten did I?” He asked you, you turning around to look at him. You took a deep breath and said “no.1 I ain’t no kitten so stop with that kitten shit, and 2nd of all you ain’t my parent so I can do what I want” you said with a little smile and started walking off home.

But Heisenberg didn’t give up easily. He started following you. You turn around rapidly. “What do you want?” You asked. Heisenberg just watched you. You could feel him eye you up and down even with those glasses on. You sighed out loud and started walking again, not caring that he was right behind you anymore. “You know what kitten, come with me to my factory, I wanna show u something” he said suddenly. You turned around once again and looked at him. “Why would I go to your factory?” He sighed “Come on pet, do ya have anything betta to do? No, so come over to mine. At least I’ll have some company”. The thought of you and Heisenberg being together alone made you kind of excited. You liked this man for a bit and loved teasing and annoying him, and he loved doing the same thing.

“Fine, but only for a bit” you said, letting him go in front and lead the way. It was a small walk and you got there real quick. “So here we are, my dear factory” he said showing off his mechanical creation’s. After giving you a walk through the factory, you asked why he invited you over. “Well I had a few questions” he answered, and now ur curiosity wanted to know what he had to ask. “You look curious kitten, would ya like to know?” He asked which you responded with a nod. “Well kitten, why did you chose to listen to me and come over?” Was his question first. “I dunno, I was bored so yea” you responded. “2nd question, what’s your type?” You looked at him with a suspicious look. “Why do you want to know that?” You asked. “You really wanna know kitten?” He asked lowering his voice a bit, which makes you shiver in pleasure. “I would like to know, but is it worth it?” You asked. “Well you will have to wait and see” he said. “Come over here” he said taking his glasses off and hat, and you obeying him and come near him. You could see the lust and need in his eyes making you feel warm and tingly.

“I would like to know why you want to know my type, Heisenberg” you said getting closer to him. “You really wanna know dear?” Seeing the lust in his eyes. “Yes I do” you said, a teasing look on your face. “Cause I wanna see if I’m of any of your standards dear. I wanna see if I can claim you as mine” he said coming closer to your ear, whispering in a deep raspy voice, which made you feel wetness come over. “And what would you do to me if you were of my standards and could claim me as yours?” You asked, teasingly wanting to know his answer. “Oh I’d do a lot to you kitten~” he purred into your ear. “Could you tell me what exactly?” You asked. “Right now, I’d like to rail you right here right now, make you scream my name until you can’t speak no more, listen to your moans like some music, fuck you so hard you start shaking, tie you up and make sure you can’t fuckin escape and make you endure the pleasure” he said making him squirm under him, making you feel like a hot mess, with only words. “Can I touch you?” He asked. You nod, immediately, begging for some friction. He slowly put his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him, and then taking your chin in one of his hands, and giving you a fast kiss, which soon turned into a heated make out session, his hands travelling around your body, while yours on his shoulders. Picking you up, he places you on the table behind him, throwing everything on the table onto the ground, placing you on top of it not stopping the kiss.

He soon started taking your dress off, unzipping it from the back, slowly to not make no damage. The kiss getting hotter and more heated, tasting the mix between cigar and whiskey, making your knees weak. After taking off the dress, he starts trailing kisses and bites down your jaw and kneck down to your exposed chest. He looked at you with a questionable look, and you gave him a quick nod to show him it was ok. After pleasuring you with your tits, and not getting a lot of moans out of you, it didn’t satisfy Heisenberg.

He laid you down onto your back and took of your panties. He gave you another look, and you nod. He slowly looks at you panties. “I haven’t even touched you that much, but look how fuckin wet you are kitten! And because of me and only for me” he said spreading your lips. He lowered himself biting at your thighs earning a few needy moans. It took him ages to finally give you a bit of pleasure by spreading your lips, and him finally using his mouth and tounge finally licking your clit, making your back arch and moan his name. That made Heisenberg go faster and add more pressure, which made you a moaning hot mess, for him and only him. “You taste fuckin delicious kitten” he said in pants. He then brought his 2 fingers, and slipped them inside you, curling them, making you feel more pleasure. When you felt your orgasm coming, Heisenberg stop what he was doing making you whine . “Come on, Heisenberg, I wanna cum so badly, please lemme cum” you moaned. “But kitten, I’m not done with you yet.” He said taking his shirt off, boots and then undoing his belt.

When he undid his belt, and unzipped his pants, you could see his hard erection, making you wetter. “Enjoying the view princess?” He asked while taking his dick out. You just gave him a needy look and that gave him the hint to put it in. But before that you saw metal scraps flying past him taking your hands and pinning them at the top of your head on the table, making you unable to move your hands. This distracted you, so you didn’t notice Karl moving forward getting in place to rail you. He pushed in, which made you wince in pain letting him enter you bit by bit. You didn’t notice how big he was, feeling him fill you to the brim. “Is that all you can take kitten? Well fuck you still have a bit to go. You are so tight for me baby” he said moaning breathily.

“I cant take anymore Heisenberg, it’s too much” you moaned your legs trembling. “I’ll make you take all of it” he said pushing the rest of his length deep inside, making you arch your back in pleasure, making you gasp hard. He let you adjust to his size for a few minutes until he started moving his hips. At first he went with a slow passionate pace, but seeing you arch your back moaning for more, he picked up speed and strength, taking his dick nearly out, and slamming back in, making you gasp and moan. “Kitten, I want to hear you loud, don’t hide any of your sweet noises” he said breathlessly. You gave him a light nod before him slamming himself into you again, making you nearly scream his name out, him hitting every perfect spot.

He took one of your legs, onto his shoulder, making him go deeper into you, making you a moaning mess. He then took his glove off, by teeth and started rubbing your clit, building another orgasm inside you. “Already another orgasm pet? You have to beg for this one a lot harder sweetheart” he said rubbing your clit harder and slamming harder into you. “P-please sir please let me c-cum, I’ll do anything, please let me cum, please” you begged in between moans. “Tell me how good I make you feel” Heisenberg same slamming into you faster, watching your face curl into pleasure. “You make me feel so good sir, please haah your dick makes me feel so good sir, you are so good sir” you said with tears in the corner of your eyes.

“Good girl, so fuckin good for me and only me” slamming hard into you, your legs trembling nearing your orgasm. “Karl I’m about to-“ you slightly screamed, but Heisenberg stopped you by wrapping his hand around your neck, his other hand still rubbing your clit, making you cum hard on his dick, squeezing him, making him go harder, chasing his own orgasm moaning fuck and your so fuckin tight. And then he slammed one more time, spilling his seed deep inside you, filling you up. After that intense orgasm, Karl fell on top of you trying to support his weight with his hands on each side of your head. He let you go off the metal scraps, and you put one hand in his hair and the other on his shoulder. “Fuck, I should’ve done this sooner, don’t ya think?” He asked slightly laughing. “You should have, but better now than never” you said and with that he lowered down to give you a soft passionate kiss, making you melt right under him.

“You should go home kitten.. you can maybe stay a bit longer next time” he mumbled softly, not wanting to let you go, but also not wanting you to get in trouble and hurt. “I should” you said getting up, cleaning up and dressing up. He just put on his trousers and belt and watched you while lighting a cigar in his mouth. You were about to head out until Karl took your wrist and kissed you a goodbye kiss. “I’ll see you again kitten” he said with a grin letting you go and opening the door for you. “Next time then. Bye bye” you said and he just waved. What a crazy day you told yourself walking home aching but happy.

[imhereformr]

Bish, prompt 48 for brella, pretty please💘

Sorry for the delay with the prompts. I've got a pile of them to do, but I got a tad sidetracked...

Anyways, bish, enjoy some sad Brandon and comforting Stella 💔♥️

48: I called you at 2am cause I need you. 

Brandon gently lowered himself onto his bed, his fingers gripping at the edge of the mattress to hold him steady. He tried to regulate his breathing, but his breath continued to come in short, ragged gasps. It felt like his heart had dropped into his stomach; like it had displaced his supper, sending it back up his throat. He wanted to puke, wanted to shout and curse and cry, but nothing came up. Somehow, he found himself curled up on his bed with his temple resting against the cool metal of his phone, right on top of his bundled standard issue blue Red Fountain blanket where he’d dropped the phone a few minutes earlier. At least he thought it was a few minutes.

His mother had called. He’d been so happy to hear from her until he heard the choked sobs that she was trying to stifle. His mother – a pinnacle of strength in every way, shape and form – barely managed an intelligible word between the gasps and whimpers. Something about one of his sisters, that much he’d caught. There’d been some shuffling, and then his father’s voice, strained but clear. Margie – his youngest sister – had been hit by a car. She’d been playing soccer in the front yard and had accidentally kicked her ball into the street. The old man behind the wheel hadn’t seen her coming; she had appeared from behind a parked car too close for him to stop in time.  

Brandon had wanted to hop on the first flight home, but his parents had refused. It was the middle of finals, he needed to be at school. His father had insisted that Brandon had worked too hard to flunk his last finals and not graduate. Brandon didn’t care – he had a guaranteed job with Sky anyways – but he didn’t dare disobey his parents. They would call once the doctors have them an update. It was all they could do for now.

He hated it; hated that he was stuck here. Margie was his favourite of his four sisters, partially because she was too young to torture him like the others had, but mostly because she had that something that he loved. A joie de vivre he’d heard Stella refer to it as. Margie’s laugh was loud and honest; she was bubbly and kind. Of course, she was only seven and the world hadn’t tried to hurt her enough yet, but Brandon had a feeling she’d maintain her sunny disposition even when it did. Margie reminded him a bit of Stella if he was honest, right down to how stubborn she could be. How many times had he told her not to run into the street? Surely more times than he could count. Still, typical of her, she didn’t listen. And look where she was now.

And look where he was.

Curled up in bed, unable to help her.  

Useless.

Terrified.  

Brandon’s eyes snapped open. It was dark, and the clock on his bedside table read 1:37. He could hear Sky snoring softly on the other side of the room, blissfully unaware that Brandon’s world was falling apart. Somehow, Brandon had ended up in his pajamas. Somehow, he had ended up in his bed. In the back of his mind, Brandon knew he must have decided to try to get some sleep, but he had no memory of any of it. Everything after hanging up was a blur.

Half asleep and stumbling in the dark, he found his way to the common room. After tossing aside the gaming remotes that always seemed to be left on the couch, Brandon took a seat. He pushed aside the books that Riven left hanging on the coffee table and put his feet up. Luckily, he’d thought of grabbing his phone on the way out of his room. He dialed his mother, father and sisters’ phone numbers. Nobody answered. Nobody. How could nobody answer?! It was barely past supper time on Eraklyon! He desperately needed an update on Margie, even if it was just that nothing had changed – at least that meant she was still alive.  

Brandon dropped the phone onto the coffee table and lowered his head into his hands, gasping in surprise when he felt the water on his palms. He hadn’t noticed that he was tearing up. The realisation broke the dam, and the tears that had refused to come earlier flowed freely and abundantly now. Brandon managed to stifle any whimpers that might wake the guys – though it wasn’t likely since Timmy and Sky slept like rocks and, knowing Riven, he and Musa were off somewhere breaking curfew for the sake of a quick fuck.  

He hadn’t even realised he’d picked up the phone and dialed until he heard Stella’s sleepy voice in his ear. The wracking sobs gave way to a steady, gentle stream of tears. Even groggy with sleep, her voice always seemed to soothe him. Riven said Stella’s voice was annoying and high pitched, but Brandon disagreed; he found her voice bright and cheerful. He loved her voice.  

“Brandon?” she repeated, worry seeping into her beautiful voice. “What’s going on?”  

He had no idea where to start.  

My sister’s hurt.

“Hello?”

I’m worried.

“Brandon?”

I’m scared.  

“Is something wrong?”

He cracked. The sobs shook his body again, and he had to cover his mouth to stop from screaming and waking the whole school.  

“Brandon?” He could hear her panic overwhelming her tone, taking her voice from sleepy and light to high and desperate. “Talk to me. Please.”

I need you.  

He tried to speak but he couldn’t. The words died somewhere in his throat, suffocated by the sobs and whimpers. He hung up. There was no point in keeping Stella up to force her to sit in silence. She needed to sleep; she was in the midst of her final exams too.  

A knock on the balcony door scared him out of his haze. He had no idea how long he’d sat on the couch staring at nothing. He’d been vaguely aware of the sound of someone trying to sneak through the halls; of water rushing through the pipes as someone took a mid-night shower; of the moans coming from one of the adjacent dorms; and the pounding on the wall accompanied by a voice demanding the lovers shut the fuck up. But the span of time in which that had happened, Brandon had no idea.

Brandon grabbed the nearest thing he could find that would serve as a weapon – the TV remote, not useful but it would have to do – and slowly approached the door. He slid back the curtain that covered the glass door and nearly dropped the remote when he saw who was on the other side.  

Wasting no time, Brandon opened the door to let Stella in. She de-transformed before entering and Brandon was surprised to see that she was in her pajamas with her hair in a messy high bun. He’d seen Stella in her natural, not dolled up state on more occasions than he could count, but he’d never known her to leave the safety of her dorm without looking like a top model.  

Amber eyes fixed their worried gaze on him as her hands found their way to his cheeks, brushing away the dried tears. Stella wrapped one of her hands around the back of his neck and pulled him into a hug. He could smell the residual perfume that lingered on her; the sweet scents of rose, jasmine, sandalwood and vanilla filled his senses, and he happily let them. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself in the safety of her arms and not come out until he knew the world was as it should be.  

Brandon’s arms wrapped around Stella’s small waist and pulled her as close as physically possible. There, in the warmth of her, he let himself break on purpose. Stella ran her hands through his hair while she let him cry, planting light kisses on his shoulder, neck and ear. They stayed like that for a few minutes until Brandon’s tears subsided and he reluctantly pulled himself away. Stella didn’t let him get too far, though, as she gripped his arm and gently dragged him over to the couch. She sat at the end, dragging him down with her and resting his head on her chest so that she could wrap her arms around his shoulders.  

“What happened?” Stella asked quietly as she waited for Brandon to adjust into a laying position and return his head to her chest.  

“Margie was in a car accident” he managed. His voice sounded weak and broken to his own ears, he couldn’t imagine how bad he sounded to Stella, but she didn’t seem to care. She held him tighter and kissed the top of his head without saying another word. Stella knew how much he loved his family, especially his youngest sister, and he knew she understood how devastating the news was to him.  

They didn’t speak for the rest of the night. Stella continued to hold him until he fell into a restless sleep, and she fell asleep soon afterwards. Brandon’s phone woke them just before 6 when his mother called to inform that Margie was stable and would likely make a full recovery. Even then, Stella didn’t let go and Brandon didn’t ask her to. He would happily stay in her arms until the end of time. Or until one of them needed to pee.  

[theodorecanaryhood]

Family

Jason Todd x female reader

Reader takes Jason home to meet the family, but Jason sees why reader was reluctant to let her family meet him.

You'd been with Jason for 8 months now and you were already a big part of his life, even his family's lives. They loved you deeply, almost as much as Jason.

However, he hasn't met your family yet and he is very confused as to why. You don't really seem to talk much about them.

'Doll, I'm sure they will be great' Jason rolls down the phone to you. 'They will love me I'm sure' he continues.

'Jason I'm ot saying that they won't like you, I'm just saying that you might not like them' you inform.

'Whay does that mean?' He asks intrigued, you sigh a little.

'My family is, complicated. But I guess you'll see when you meet them' you finish, walking down the street towards the little coffee shop in the corner to meet your mum and sister.

'OK, I'm sure it'll be fine, babe don't worry. I'll see you soon. I love you' Jason soothes down the phone. You smile brightly.

'I love you too' you say as you both end the call, walking over to the table outside your mum spots you.

'Y/n, so good to see you again' she says as she stands up and hugs you tight. You return the hug, but not as enthusiastic. Then your sister stands up.

'Hey' she smiles as she leans over to hug you, you return the hug. Even more non enthusiastic, your relationship was always awkward with your sister. She's 10 years older and has always been jealous of you. You're prettier, more that you make more of an effort with your appearance, you're smarter, work harder and earn more money. Plus, she's still single, and never really had a boyfriend.

'So, how are you guys?' You asked as you stand next to the table where they're seated.

'Good, we've been great. You?' Your mum asks trying to make a conversation, you shrug a little.

'Fine I guess. You guys want a coffee? My treat' you wink,

'I'll have a americano' your sister replies,

'Latte' your mum follows, you nod a little and pull out your purse.

'Sweet, I'll be right back' you say, going inside to get the orders.

'She seems different, does she seem different to you?' Your sister asks your mother, your Mother, Janet, just shrugs a little.

'Happier, maybe a little distant' your mother finishes, your sister starts to have a little blush and starts smiling as she tries to hide her face.

'Don't look, but there's a really hot guy staring at me over at that table' your sister whispers to your Mum.

'Really?' She replies, your sister just nods as she makes eye contact with the stranger. He's tall, black hair with a white streak, leather jacket, muscular build and a strong jaw.

'Here you go guys, sorry it took a while. Got a newby behind the counter' you say as you bring out the coffees, four as you got Jason's too seeing as he'll be here soon. Sitting opposite them with your back to the direction your sister is looking in.

'No worries' your mum smiles as she picks up her cup.

'What are you looking at?' You ask your sister, who's staring behind you.

'Oh my, he's coming over' your sister blushes harder.

'Who is?' You ask, just then a shadow comes behind you as someone approaches your table.

'Hey' you turn to look, it's Jason standing behind you.

'Hi' your sister flutters, you stand up and give Jason a kiss. Your sister's jaw dropping to the floor.

'Mum, y/s/n, this is my boyfriend Jason. Jason this is my Mum, Janet and my big sister y/s/n' you introduce everyone.

'Great to finally meet you' Jason smiles at them, your sister just giving you daggers from across the table. You weren't sure why though.

...

Coffee date with mum and sister was a success, although your sister did seem a little off. Your Mum kept looking at her funny, like she was signalling for her to shut up. You'd recognise it straight away, it's the same look you used to get when you were a kid.

'So this is your house huh? Like where you grew up?' Jason asks, breaking your thoughts.

'Yeah' you reply short, Jason looks at you with concern.

'You OK?' He asks, taking your hand, you just smile at him and squeeze his hand in reassurance.

'Baby girl' you hear your Dad shout from down the hall, he runs over and hugs you. However, unlike before, you hug him back just as tight.

'Who's this underwear model?' Your dad asks chuckling, you laugh a little.

'Daddy, this Jason. Jason this is my Dad' you smile, Jason takes his hand.

'Nice to meet you sir' Jason says, your Dad waves his hand a little.

'Call me Eric please' your Dad insists. Your Dad was the only relative you genuinely loved, he was the easiest person to get on with. And had the biggest heart.

...

Dinner with the family was it's usual, your Mother loved the sound of her own voice. Your sister kept checking her phone every 2 minutes. You and Jason just sat hoping this would end soon. Atleast your Dad was here.

'When did you guys get divorced?' Jason asks your parents,

'Few years ago, but I like to see my baby girl so I come and visit every now and then' your Dad replies.

You looked over at your sister who was on her phone on the other end of the table.

'Hey y/s/n, can you put your phone away please?' You ask nicely,

'Excuse me?' She snaps,

'We're having family dinner and you're being kind of rude, no phones at the table remember?' You continue, your sister gives you the evilest, most terrifying look you've ever seen someone give.

'Don't ever tell me what to do, you don't own me. Don't ever speak to me like that again' she growls, your Dad and Mum get up from the table.

'Leave the room please' your Dad calmly speaks to your sister,

'No, she gets everything. She gets the money, the attention. The hot boyfriend. I'm 10 years older and never had a boyfriend, she gets everything. I get treated like shit' your sister stands from her seat and shouts.

'Maybe if you stop acting like a bitch all the time, cleaned up a little. Weren't such an asshole then maybe a guy would stick around' you jump back in, Jason looks shocked, so do your parents. Your sister storms out of the room angry.

...

Back in your apartment, Jason walks in behind you. Not wanting to go back home yet to make sure you're ok.

'Are we gonna talk about this?' Jason asks you as you walk into the kitchen.

'There's nothing to talk about' you reply, not looking at him. You start to pour yourself a glass of whiskey to calm your shaking.

'Babe, you just had an argument with your sister. Then your Mum, you left before we could say anything else to them' Jason kind of raises his voice, he's not angry. Mostly shocked.

'That's my family, we argue. We fight. To be completely honest with you Jason, I hate my sister and my Mother' you turn to face him, 'my sister, my sister has always been jealous of anything I've had. Every boyfriend I've had, she's found some way to get rid of him. That's why I wouldn't let her meet you, cause I don't want you to leave too' you start to cry.

'I'm not gonna leave you' Jason purred to you, wrapping you in a hug, 'I love you too much to do that' he finishes.

'My Dad is the only part of my family I need, the rest of them, I'm not sure I ever want to see again' you speak into Jason's chest, hugging him back.

'Then you don't have to, if you don't want them in your life then that is your decision' Jason kisses the top of your head.

You stand with Jason, hugging each other until you feel yourself calming down. Knowing he's on your side is all you need. The people you care about in your life is all you need.

This isn't as long as I aimed to make it, it's loosely based around a recent falling out in my family which has caused me to stop speaking to my sister and Mother. But I still have my two brothers and my Dad. I also want to do a Nightwing fic so if any ideas please let me know.

Hope you liked the fic ☺ 😊

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

When the Weight Comes Down - 7

Warnings: non-consent sex (series); nothing for this chapter.

This is dark! (biker) Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Series Synopsis: Your father’s a drunk, your mother a recluse, and you’re just another small town girl in Birch.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown

Note: This is our second last chapter! So excited to share this. As always, I appreciate you guys and you following along with my madness.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter Seven: Long Time Running

Does your mother tell you things Long, long when I'm gone? Who you talking to? Is she telling you I'm the one?

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

The next day at the bakery was slow. You were thankful for that. Your night had been close to sleepless as the afterglow of what you’d done faded away. You woke to the smell of Steve and despite a shower, it seemed to follow you. The thought of him lingered too.

As you swept the empty bakery, the bell chimed and you looked up the woman who was becoming all too familiar. Bucky’s girl smiled at you as you rounded the counter and returned to the till. She looked through the glass at the desserts before she approached the other side.

“I’ll take some of the lemon meringue,” She said.

You nodded and punched in her order. You could sense her watching you. She paid and you gave her her change. You cut a thick slice of the pie and boxed it up for her. As you slid it across to her, her hand rested on it and she glanced over her shoulder.

“You and Steve,” She turned back to you. “How is that going?”

You squinted at her, then shrugged. 

“He hasn’t… hurt you?” She asked.

You lowered your eyes. Sure, Steve had been a bit gruff, a bit insistent, but he hadn’t truly hurt you. He had made you feel wonderful things. Confusing things. You shook your head.

“You sure?” She asked.

“Yes,” You looked up at her. “He doesn’t hit me or anything.”

“You like him?” She prodded. You shrugged again. “I suppose it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Do… you think he would hurt me?” You leaned on the counter and spoke quietly. “If I… said no.”

“Well, does he let you say no?”

“I haven’t… I don’t…” You blinked at her. “You’re not afraid of him?”

“I’m not stupid,” She said. “I know what he’s capable of, so no, I am afraid of him. But I have Bucky and as much as we… disagree, he wouldn’t let Steve hurt me.”

“Please, don’t tell him I said any of this. Steve, I mean.” You pleaded. 

She chuckled darkly.

“I don’t talk to that jackass,” She took the box of pie. “Just… you’re gonna need a friend and to be honest, I need one too.”

Your eyes rounded and you felt like smiling. A friend.

“Really?” You breathed.

“Sure,” She smiled for you. “But you let me know if Steve hurts you. Promise.”

“Okay,” You said. “I’ll… I will.”

💀

You walked home slowly. You hummed an old tune you heard on the radio too many times. You were nervous. The red dress, that’s what Steve said. What he demanded. You didn’t really like that one. It was short and tight. 

You strode up the dirty road towards your house and came upon the gravel drive. You stopped dead at the motorcycle parked beside your father’s old Ford. It was too pale to be Steve’s and the wolf on its tank confirmed that it wasn’t. Your heart fluttered and you sped up to clamour up the porch steps. 

Your father wasn’t in his usual spot and as you went inside, you heard voices. You followed them to the kitchen.

Bucky was there with your parents. Your mother hovered at the stove, wringing her hands, and your father pressed his hand around a can as he sat facing the biker. It was an odd and startling scene.

“What’s going on?” You asked and all eyes went to you.

“I was just checking in,” Bucky stood slowly. “Like to keep eyes on my territory.”

“You never been here before,” You said quietly. He grinned.

“Come on,” He gestured you back into the hall as he neared. “We need to talk.”

You peeked over at your mother. She looked terrified. Your father shook his head and grumbled into his can. He didn’t give a shit. You turned and Bucky followed you to the front door. You went out onto the porch and closed the door softly behind him.

“Go on,” He pointed to the couch your father had stained with beer and sweat.

You sat and he leaned on the rail of the porch in front of you. He crossed his arms as the late spring breeze ruffled his short hair.

“My girl’s been acting… strange,” He said. “So we had a talk today.”

“About what?” You teetered on the edge of the couch.

“You,” He said. “Steve. She’s concerned. Now I told her Steve was his own man and you are grown, you can take care of yourself.”

You stared up at him as he considered you. His blue eyes searched your face and his squared jaw softened. He let out a long breath.

“Your daddy hit you?” He asked. You flinched. “Well?”

“Sometimes.” You admitted. “Mostly my ma tho.”

“Is that why she stays in? To hide it?”

“She has… fears,” You shifted. “What does it matter?”

“Because, my men, we are what we are. We’re bad men.” He said. “But we have our lines that we do not cross. We don’t hit our women. I mean that. None of my business whether you and Steve are… together, but it is my business if he takes after your pa.”

“But… he’s your friend.”

“He is, and I don’t see him hitting you. That’s not really who he is. He’s got a bit of a temper. Admittedly, he can be rough, but there are limits. Even for him.” Bucky explained. 

“I… You don’t know me,” You said softly.

“I don’t,” He admitted. “Not well but I think I will. I know Steve and I know his nature. I see the way he is with you. He’s a right ass hole to everyone else, even me. But not you.”

“And… if I don’t want him?” You nearly whispered as your voice crackled.

“See, that is none of my business there,” He pushed himself away from the rail as a distant engine filled the air. “He made his claim.”

“Claim?” You stood as the engine roared closer and Bucky turned to watched the other biker pull up next to his bike.

“Talk to my girl,” He neared the steps. “She’ll help you understand.”

He tramped down the steps and strolled over to Steve. They greeted each other with a handshake and had a brief conversation you could barely understand. Bucky departed with a tear of his engine and Steve strode over to the porch and looked up at you.

“You didn’t forget, did you?” He hopped up the steps.

“No, I just… I just got back from work,” You said. “I hadn’t--”

“It’s alright, I can wait,” He said.

“I… could you stay out here? I think my ma’s already scared enough.” You clasped your hands together nervously.

“You and Bucky have a good chat?” He asked.

“I think,” You said.

“I’ll stay out here,” He said. “Grab some extra clothes while you’re at it.”

You stared at him and slowly moved toward the door. You nodded and ducked inside quickly. You hid behind the door as your mother peeked out from the kitchen.

“What have you brought into my house?” She asked.

“Ma,” You uttered. “Please…”

“I didn’t raise you to be one of them,” She said.

“You raised me to be nothing,” You stopped at the end of the hall that led to your bedroom. “To be walked all over and that’s exactly what’s happening.”

She looked hurt. She neared you slowly and drew you into her arms. She clung to you.

“I’m sorry,” She whispered tearfully.

“Doesn’t matter,” You pulled away. “Never did. What I want is… It’s okay, ma.”

You left her there and went to your room. You changed into the red dress. No panties, he said. You felt wrong and bare. You shoved a pair of jeans and a tee into a canvas bag along with underwear and some socks. You pulled on a thin sweater and marched back into the hall. You mother gaped at your dress.

“He has money,” You offered weakly. It barely mattered to you. 

“He could hurt you,” Your mother argued.

“Like pa?” You challenged and she frowned.

“I should’ve… left.” She whispered.

“Should’ve,” You agreed. “I never expected anything else than what I’ve been dealt.”

“You should’ve had better.” She said.

“You too,” You replied and carefully stepped past her. “But we take what we get, don’t we?”

You pulled the door open and your new shoes slipped on the porch. You held yourself up with the door and closed the screen. You turned to Steve as he smirked. His eyes flicked up and down your body as he drew you close. 

“I like it,” He purred before he kissed you. “I got a surprise for you.”

“Oh?” You gazed up at him, still reeling from your awkward homecoming.

“Let’s go for a ride, doll,” He cradled your face between his hands and his thumbs traced your cheek bones as he kissed you again. 

💀

Steve drove out of Birch and along the country roads. You were surprised and slightly off-kilter as he pulled up to a large house amidst the sprawling green fields. Reclusive but not too far out of town. You peered up at the house from beneath your helmet as he rolled to a stop. He waited for you to climb off before he kicked down the stand and dismounted.

Your legs were numb from the ride and you bent to rub your thighs just under the short skirt. You took off your helmet as Steve did the same and he took it from you before he led you towards the house. He set the helmets on a crate on the porch and fumbled with his keys. You crossed your arms behind him as he unlocked the door.

“This is your place?” You wondered.

He was quiet as he stepped inside and waved you in behind him. He bent to unzip his boots and kicked them off. You slipped out of your shoes and glanced around at the tidy entry way. It wasn’t what you imagined. He turned to you as you caught yourself on the narrow console table as you nearly tripped on your own shoes.

“It’s our place,” He said.

“What?” You sputtered.

He took your hand and pulled you to the wide doorway that looked into the front room. A cozy looking couch with matching chairs, a brick fireplace, a rug the same colour as the bricks, a polished coffee table.

“I bought it furnished but never really bothered to do anything,” He slid his arm over your shoulders. “Never had much of a reason too.”

“What do you mean ‘ours’?” You grabbed his hand but he wouldn’t let you push him away.

“You can’t stay at your parents. Your father’s a drunk and your mother’s… crazy.” He said. “I want you here. With me.”

“Steve,” You breathed. “I barely… You don’t…”

“You deserve better,” He rubbed your shoulder. “I’ll give you the best.”

“I can’t leave my ma,” You huffed. “You don’t understand, my pa will--”

“You let me worry about them. You’re not doing that anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll buy out the house. Make sure they don’t have to stress. Keep an eye on your pa.” He said. “A close eye. There’s no place in Birch he can hide.”

“I gotta work tomorrow,” You finally wiggled free of his arm.

“No, you don’t,” He said. “You don’t need to do anything but be mine, doll.”

“I like working,” You argued. 

“I won’t stop you then,” He said. 

You looked at him and inhaled deeply.

“Why?” 

“Why what?”

“Why me?” You asked. “Why give me all this?”

“You need a way out, I need… someone,” He said. “It works out.”

“And if I walk away right now?” You ventured.

He smirked and leaned on the door frame.

“You won’t,” He said. “You can’t. You know that. You’re not stupid.”

You hung your head and played with the hem of your sweater. You glanced at the window then past Steve to the small entryway.

“I’d rather you didn’t try it,” He warned. “But it’s your call.”

You shivered. You weren’t cold, just scared.

“That dress looks good on you,” He said. “I’ll get you more.”

You just stared at his chest as his hands grazed your sides. He pulled you to him and brought two fingers up to tilt your chin. He kissed you and you let him. There was something inside you that just rolled over. An acceptance that had been growing since this man strode into your life. You had known that night at the bar, there was no way out of Birch.

He drew away, his breath was warm against your lips.

“Let’s take the grand tour,” He said.

You nodded and he let you go. He stepped back and shed his leather jacket. He hung it in the entryway by the door. You reluctantly slipped off your sweater and he took it to hang beside his jacket. He smiled and stretched his arm across your shoulders.

“I think you’re gonna like this place a whole lot, doll.”

[ad1thi]

If your still doing fic recs, could u rec any soft stevetony ones?

absolutely!! this got pretty long so ive hidden most of it under a read-more so i don’t annoy people. a couple of authors feature more than once. ive tried to avoid that as much as possible, but if an author features more than once - take that as a sign that they have rly good stuff for soft stevetony

disclaimer: don’t forget to leave kudos and comments for every author!! (a disclaimer i regrettably forgot to add to previous fic rec lists but will be adding from now on)

soda pops: @starklysteve

If anybody asks, Steve would smile and say it was very romantic. Very Tony. Because if he went into any further detail, nobody would quite believe him.

Tony, on the other hand, would laugh and say that Steve’s in love with a man in a can. So, really, it wasn’t outside the natural progression of things.

me voy pa’l pueblo: @firebrands

two times steve walks away, and one time that tony walks with him.

/ or, my very fluffy take on my bingo card prompt "farewells." steve is on vacation when he meets tony.

fill for my stony bingo prompt: farewells; also for bookworminaslump on tumblr who asked for a tourist/knowledgeable local au!

Tumblr Ficlets:  @omg-just-peachy (this is 115 chapters of stevetony being soft!!)

A collection of enough tooth-rotting fluff to last a year, all in one place.

tender offerings: @omg-just-peachy

Five times Steve carried Tony to bed.

the best thing (is that it’s happening to you and me):  @captainstarkreportingforduty

Or, five times the team saw Steve Rogers and Tony Stark in love.

Sweet On You: @miniblackraven

It’s the 1940’s and Tony is working as a Donut Doll for the Red Cross. His job is to go around to various military bases and offer comfort food and conversation to homesick soldiers. He’s come to expect a lot of things in this job, but he doesn’t expect to fall in love with Captain America, the hottest most awkward soldier Tony has ever met.

Bespectacled Avengers Society (Membership of One):  @baffledkingcomposinghallelujah

Tony gets glasses. Glasses get a Tony. Steve loses his mind and walks into walls.

a flower crown for your love: @anthonyed

"There, there," Pepper cooed. "Tony likes flowers?" she said with a shred of doubt in her tone. But when Steve peered up, she's smiling her bright toothy smile. He squinted and she sighed, dropping her hand from his shoulder. "He does." she insisted. "Even more so than me."

if this was a movie: @omg-just-peachy

“One of our seniors is being generous with his time this year—by force of his own actions, but generous none the less—and he’d be happy to help you, I’m sure. Tony Stark? I’ll set something up for later this week. I think between the two of you you’ll be able to pull your average up enough to make it through to playoffs,” Coulson said, with that ever-hopeful lilt in his voice.

Or, Steve needs a calculus tutor, Tony is available, but how is Steve ever supposed to focus when he's been in love with Tony for ... his entire school life?

you take me higher than the rest (everybody else is second best): @firebrands

tumblr fill for adi & anthonydarling, who asked for "'Prank' war, but the kind to see who can make the other blush the most in public" from this prompt list

amore mio:  @brucewaynery

Tony has had it with Steve being dumb and reckless out in the field, he has a family to think about now, Steve promises him that he'll be with him, kingdom come.

(initially based on that one headcanon about Italian Tony yelling and gesticulating at Steve but Peter thinks he's doing some weird dance and tries to copy him, but it got very fluffy very quickly)

Lost My Mind in a Coffee Shop: @betheflame

“Boyo,” Bucky muttered to his best friend. “I swear to God that if you don’t ask that man for his number soon, I will create a Grindr profile for you and you will not like it.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I am here to finish grading, not hit on men.”

“Can you not do both?” Natasha smirked. “Nearly tenured, historical genius, feels like something you should be able to multitask.”

&&&

In which Steve is a history professor and Tony's an engineering one and Bucky owns the joint where they have their meet cute.

AU-gust Chapter 7: @iam93percentstardust 

stevetony, childhood friends AU

Right Up The Road: @gottalovev

The day at the senate committee in Washington DC wasn't supposed to end with Tony and Steve transformed into animals by a baby witch. That said, the 350 miles trek back to the compound to get help promises to be quite an adventure too!

(or the adventures of Cat!Tony and Wolf!Steve - and how to readjust when you're back to human!)

i’ll take care of you: @elcorhamletlive

“Hi.”

Steve blinks. The sound of loud thunder roars outside, but he doesn’t jolt, too focused on the image in front of him to be startled by the noise.

He has no idea what to say, and he isn’t sure if the shock is because of Tony’s absolutely sodden state – his hair glued to his forehead, his clothes dripping with water, forming a small puddle in front of Steve’s door – or because he wasn’t expecting to see Tony for at least three more days.

“Hi?” he says, a little tentative, before his brain catches up to reality. In his defense, he was getting ready to sleep when Tony knocked. He looks at what Tony is holding – a wet mess that seems to have been a flower bouquet at some point. “What are you doing here?”

The Tally System:  @betheflame

Everyone on the team knew about the tally system.

Whenever Steve would save Tony - whether from a monster or from his own stupidity - he’d say, “tag”. Whenever Tony do the same, he’d say, “your turn”. Thor thought it was adorable, Clint thought it was ridiculous, Bruce refused to register an opinion.

Natasha thought it was something she could work with.

what’s mine is yours: @robertdowneyjjr

5 times Tony stole Steve’s clothes, and 1 time Steve returned the favor.

or

For a billionaire, Tony Stark really doesn't pay for a lot of what he wears.

I like Shiny Things But I’d Marry You With Paper Rings: @betheflame

Rhodey: I just confirmed with Sam that he’s going to make sure he cooks tonight and that his entire team is briefed. I’m heading over now to strategically arrange a fuck ton of ficus trees to block them from gen pop.

Pepper: They’re not getting engaged in a prison, Jimmy.

Rhodey: Tony Stark and Steve Rogers show up to Circe on a Saturday night in May and you watch every person in that restaurant turn into someone I’d rather arrest than eat with.

****

In which Tony and Steve get engaged, but they're kind of extra about it, because they are always themselves

the road to the stars: @shell-heads

Tony is seven years old when he sees the ballet for the first time and meets his future pas de deux partner.

His father is invited to sweet-talk politicians into a new weapons deal and explain his latest idea for their program, and his mom goes to catch up with old friends she hasn't seen in years, but Tony goes because his mom had smiled down at him and told him he would love it.

His mom's never wrong.

-

In which boy genius Tony Stark meets girl wonder Natasha Romanoff at the ballet, and they fit their broken little pieces together to make something beautiful on the dance floor.

Steve? He's just a dumb, awful, chaotic, extremely supportive older brother that really should just shut up and admit he likes Tony a lot more than he pretends, because Natasha only has five people in the world she likes; it only makes sense her two favorites would fall in love with one another.

They always were a little slow, though.

A Second Chance To Take it Slow: @omg-just-peachy

Tony loves his adopted son, Peter, but that doesn't stop him from wishing he had someone to do this whole parenting thing with. After a failed one night stand, Tony's parent-teacher conference with Mr. Rogers comes with quite the surprise.

Wake Up!: @randomstufffromotherblogs

Tony came home from a business trip and is woken up by his husband and their three-year old.

pull me closer to love:  @captainstakreportingforduty (part of a series)

“A Mother’s Day card? For... Tony?” Steve clarifies, and can’t help the smile on his face as six familiar little heads nod in response.

“But... guys, Tony’s not—“ he pauses and takes a breath, any explanation dying in his throat against the excited gleam in everyone’s eyes. “Why do you guys want to do that, hmm?"

compromises:  @robertpattisons (when i looked up OP on tumblr, this is the blog i was directed to - but i sincerely apologise if ive gotten it wrong)

Steve should have expected it, he really should have.

There were regulations that came with dating Tony Stark. Things that were clear and things that they needed to work through.

Things like how Steve always got strawberry ice cream, while Tony got rocky road. Or when Steve needed to get his homework done before he was down to make out - even though Tony always got his way.

Things like that were clear

all that you are is all that i’ll ever need: @natasharxmanov

Tony Stark and Steve Rogers announced their engagement on Good Morning America through Tony Stark’s previous secretary now CEO, Pepper Potts. And over this past weekend, I got the chance to sit down with them both, to visit their home and attend their gala, all to write this article about the most powerful couple in the world.

(Or, the fic in which Tony and Steve get married.)

(i won’t ever) trade my mistakes: @brucewaynery

Toddler Peter, painting a masterpiece with his dad.

aka: a dumb amount of family fluff to help you power through the week

[missluthorwillseeyounow]

May You Always Be Satisfied

SuperCorp AU based on the song ‘Satisfied’

The tinkling of silverware against glass delicately ringing through the room pierces dully through the crystalline numbness surrounding Lena, and she looks up only when she hears her name amidst happy applause.

 "...... the maid-of-honor, Lena Luthor."

The delicate bell of apathy Lena has been existing in since the ceremony shatters, and she is saved only by the impeccable manners that have been drilled into her since early childhood. The perfect smile on her face is as permanent and forced as one painted on a wooden doll.

That is exactly how she feels as she stands, wooden and lifeless, her elaborate dress and corset feeling heavy and constricting around her chest and middle, cutting off her breath. But her glass is already raised, her voice somehow steady despite the roiling in her insides. 

"A toast to the groom!" She tips the glass toward her brother, handsome in his suit. Lex smiles at her, affectionate as ever.

Lena returns the smile, lingering in hesitation - and it's telling of how far gone she is, because Lena Luthor never hesitates, always wrestles her fears into submission - before letting her eyes slide to the woman beside him. She carefully curates the smile on her face, fearing it will betray her at this moment.

"To the bride."

The crowd echoes her words, all turning with fondness at the blushing woman in ivory white sitting beside Lex Luthor. Golden hair crowned with flowers and a sweet blush adorning her face, she is exquisite, and Lena's heart squeezes painfully in her chest.

Linda Lee Luthor, nee Danvers. That is how people call her now. Even Lex calls her by that name - it makes sense to call her Linda, he says -- she is still in hiding, and Linda was the name given to her by her adopted family since they arrived in Metropolis. It's a name fitting for a Luthor.

 Only Lena still calls her Kara.

 She had insisted on it, her warm hands clasping Lena's moments after she and Lex had announced their engagement to the room filled with their loved ones - family friends, Lex's associates, and Kara's kin.

Lena is now the only one, outside of a select group comprised of Kryptonian immigrants and Kara's family and friends, who calls her by the name she was born with.

"From your sister, who is always by your side." Lena smiles her way through the envy clogging her throat. It is the great tragedy of her life that she means every word out of her mouth - oh, how she means every felicitous wish of happiness that she expresses for her brother and his new wife, she means it with all the love in her heart she bears for both of them - and yet each one rasps out of her throat like a bittersweet barb as her gaze lands on that smiling face and those lovely eyes sparkling with joy.

"To your union!" Lena lets her fond gaze travel from the couple to the people surrounding them, citizens of Metropolis and Krypton all sharing the same table, thanks to these two most important people in her life. "And the hope that you provide."

Hope. That is what Kara is, and always will be for Lena. And that is what she is for her people.

"May you always be satisfied."

_____________

In 1763, Krypton was ravaged by Civil War.

Young Kara was always inquisitive, even at the age of thirteen -- “nosy”, her Aunt Astra had called it fondly -- and she’d heard whispers, between her parents, and Aunt Astra and Uncle Non. 

Rumors of the House of Daxam. Of the formidable Lady Rhea. Of plots against the House of El. 

It seemed preposterous at the time. She’d grown up under the near-holy light of the House of El. Her family had ruled Krypton for over a hundred years, and, it seemed, would rule a hundred more. Under its banner, Krypton had flourished. Her father’s brother, Jor-El II had been Bethgar even before Kara was born, and would continue to rule until her older cousin Kal succeeded him. On and on, the House of El would stand mighty, carrying Krypton on its unwavering back.

But she’d been too young, or perhaps too naive, to understand.

That night -- the night that changed Kara Zor-El’s life and destroyed everything she knew -- she was roused from her sleep by her mother, whose urgent face was drawn and pale. 

She’d never seen the aristocratic Alura Zor-El look so ... terrified, and it frightened Kara. At her mother’s frantic insistence, the confused girl put on her warmest clothes and was just about to put on her favorite cloak with the El crest emblazoned on the back, but her mother yanked it off urgently.

“No! Not that one. Put this on,” Alura threw the mantle aside and grabbed another cloak, one of Kara’s older ones -- simpler and more worn, she’d always lamented that Kara looked like a street urchin rather than a princess in it. 

Now she wrapped it securely around Kara’s shoulders and pulled the cowl up so that it obscured Kara’s golden hair and part of her face. “Now, follow me. Quickly!”

Her mother herded her down the vast marble steps, Kara struggling to keep up with her. There were raised voices all over the place, and was that smoke rising from the West Tower? As they rushed by a window, Kara could see the angry orange glow of a raging fire emanating from the tower that housed Kara’s beloved Science Guild. She wanted to run to the window and see, but Alura steered her firmly away.

She and her mother were met at the foot of the stairs by her father and Kal. Her older cousin was also wearing a cloak like Kara’s, his face similarly obscured, and it only added to Kara’s confusion. “Ieiu, Ukr. What’s going on?!”

Her mother hurriedly clapped a hand over Kara’s mouth, but it was too late. Her high, panicked voice carried through the empty hall and alerted others to their presence. She heard yells -- that was her Uncle Non’s voice! -- booming from beyond the Great Hall. 

“There! They’re over there! Get them!”

Her father’s face hardened as he drew his sword and turned toward the mob pursuing them, his own kinsman among them. Their faces twisted and contorted like the monsters from the bedtime stories Kara had heard as a child, except these faces were terrifying real, glowing red from the light of their torches, and they were coming for Kara and her family.

At the head of the army was a tall, regal woman with eyes that reminded her of the stones at the riverbank she used to play in -- cold, black and smooth. She wore an armor stained dark with blood -- Uncle Jor-El’s blood, she would later learn.

At the sight of Kara and Kal, the smooth coldness of the woman’s dark gaze morphed into something mad and feral, and her lips twisted into a cruel smile. A blade glinted dangerously in her hand.

“Alura! Take the children and go!” Zor-El planted himself between the woman and his family. “I’ll hold them off! GO!”

Kara stood frozen in terror as her father raised his sword and the woman loomed over him with her eyes as black as stones and as mad as the inferno that engulfed the West Tower. She couldn’t have moved if her mother hadn’t yanked at her elbow, pulling her along as Alura and Kal fled down a back corridor. 

Kara’s feet could barely keep up with them, and she struggled, screaming for her father, begging to go back and help him.

She struggled so much that Kal had to scoop her up in his arms -- it occurred to her vaguely in the back of her mind that he hadn’t carried her like a babe since she was a child, she was too big to be carried now -- but they ran faster, faster down narrow passageways, with the din of a pursuing mob behind them -- and all Kara could think of was her father struck down by that woman.

They reached the end of a corridor and Kal kicked the door open. He set Kara down long enough to barricade the door against their pursuers with Alura’s help. It was only then that Kara realized they were at the stables.

“We have to go back! Ieiu, Kal, we have to go back!”

“Kara,” Alura abandoned her task to take Kara by the shoulders. “Listen to me. I will go back to your father, but you -- you and Kal must go. Quickly, Kal. Take Steyg, he’s the fastest and he can carry you both…. Listen to me, Kara. You must be brave now. You must be strong. Your journey will be long and hard, but your father and I will be with you always.”

Alura reached around her neck and hurriedly unclasped the necklace Kara knew she always wore there -- the one with the crest of the House of El that Zor-El had given her on their Bonding Ceremony years ago. 

Alura pressed her necklace into Kara’s palm and curled her small fingers around it. Even through her panic and confusion, Kara could see the tears in her mother’s eyes. She pulled Kara close, and Kara clung to her tightly, out of fear and a panicked certainty that she would never be able to hold her mother again.

“I am so proud of you, my Kara.” Alura whispered in her ear, her voice thick with tears. “I know you will do extraordinary things.”

Too soon -- much too soon -- they heard the clamor of their pursuers beyond the barricaded door, and Alura hoisted Kara up onto the horse in front of Kal. 

“Take care of her, Kal. Go to the docks, there’s a ship waiting there that can take you to Metropolis. Look for Jeremiah Danvers. He was your father’s friend many years ago, and he will help you.” Alura’s fingers dug into Kal’s arm for one second more before she let go and pushed Steyg into motion. “Be safe. Don’t let them find you!”

Steyg was already galloping away when they heard the mob break through the barricade. Kara cried out and struggled to turn back, but Kal wouldn’t let her. He was immovable, no matter how much she pushed and pushed against him. 

“We can’t go back, Kara. We can’t!”

They reached the docks after a few hours’ ride, Kal pushing Steyg to his limit while a sobbing Kara helplessly clung to him. The horse was given as payment to the Captain who let them hide in the ship with the other survivors just before it slipped its moorings. 

They stayed hidden below deck, shivering out of fear and cold. The others --  supporters of the House of El, old enemies of the House of Daxam, slaves owned by the House of Daxam making a bid for freedom -- crowded around them, like moths drawn to a flame. They all huddled close to each other, hidden in the underbelly of the ship, staring at Kal and Kara, murmuring “Kir Bethgar… Kir Bythgar… Zhaonah… Zrhythrev Ehl… Voikirahm...”

Kara didn’t hear any of it. She spent most of the trip in a numb, shocked haze, clinging to Kal for most of the journey. The only thing that jolted her out of her catatonic haze was whenever Kal moved away, to retrieve food for them or to assist another refugee. 

If Kara wasn’t holding onto a piece of Kal at any given moment, she would be besieged by a mindless terror that caused her to gasp for breath, fat tears leaking out of her eyes before she could stop them. 

The only thing that could calm her was Kal holding her again, rocking her as the ship creaked around them, the sound of the waves lapping at the ship creating a dull rushing in her ears, allowing her to slowly calm down.

Finally, after weeks at sea, they docked at Metropolis in the dead of the night. Met in secret by Jor-El’s old friend, Jeremiah Danvers and his wife Eliza, who received them into their house warmly. 

Only to tell them that Kal could not stay.

Kara was appalled and near-wild with fear. Jeremiah was talking on and on about the danger of the two of them being seen together, about how Jeremiah’s friendship with Jor-El had been well-known and it would only be too easy to deduce Kal’s lineage if he was suddenly adopted by the Danvers, Kara could stay, she shared Eliza’s coloring and looked enough like her that she could pass for a family relation, but Kal must go, perhaps to his friends, the Kents, who lived west of Metropolis --

But all Kara could hear was that Kal -- her only family left -- would be taken from her.

“no…. no… No… No! ….. NO! NO!!!” Kara could only mutter over and over, shaking her head back and forth, each interjection a terrified moan that escalated into high-pitched shrieks that both Jeremiah and Kal hurriedly tried to silence for fear of discovery.

Her screaming woke the Danvers’ daughter Alexandra, who found them all trying to subdue Kara, who was now crying and screeching inconsolably while clinging to Kal. Eliza was trying to wrap a blanket around her, but Kara refused to let go of her cousin. 

“Alexandra, make a cup of tea. And fetch the laudanum from the cupboard.” Alexandra, confused and a little frightened of this howling creature, complied with her mother’s orders for the first time without protest.

In the end, there was no help for it, and they all knew it. 

Kara would not be safe with Kal. They would be too easily discovered together -- two displaced young people with the telltale brilliant blue El eyes arriving in Metropolis at the same time the Prince and Princess of Krypton went missing? It would be frighteningly easy for Rhea -- who had now established herself Bythgar of Krypton -- to discover them.

So Kal stayed with the Kents, distant friends of Jeremiah’s, who lived out west in Smallville. And Kara stayed with the Danvers in Metropolis. Plagued nightly by nightmares of her family burning or dying at the hands of Rhea with her stone-black eyes.

Every night, Eliza Danvers slept in a chair beside her bed. Whenever Kara woke up screaming and shaking, Eliza was there, with her gentle calming voice, to smooth her hair back and hold her until she felt safe enough to sleep again. She wasn’t her mother -- could never be her mother -- but Eliza was a desperately-needed source of comfort for the terrified young girl.

The Danvers’ daughter, Alexandra was more than a little chilly toward her at first. Especially after her first impression of Kara, and especially after Kara called her Alexandra, a name she loathed with a burning passion. Alex treated her more like a nuisance than a sister during the first few months of her stay with the family.

Until one night, when Jeremiah and Eliza were invited to dinner at the Luthor Manor. 

One did not simply turn down an invitation from the Luthors, and not even a renowned doctor like Jeremiah could refuse. Eliza was unable to sit with Kara that night, and the young girl, terrified of the nightmares, huddled in her bed, forcing herself to stay awake. 

Sometime in the night, Alex found her there, crying silently, curled into a painful little ball. 

Alex took one look at Kara, and with a deep, resigned sigh, she pulled the covers back and slipped into the bed beside the young girl, holding her gingerly. 

It was awkward, since Alex did not customarily like giving or receiving hugs, but she made an effort to pat Kara stiffly on the back. 

Instead of soothing her, the clumsy attempt at comfort made Kara snort a laugh, and Alex glared at her. But as her next attempts at comfort got no less awkward, Alex was forced to acknowledge to herself how inept she was at this, and she reluctantly joined in on Kara’s laughter.

Both Eliza and Jeremiah were astonished to see both girls sleeping soundly on the same bed when they got home late that night. 

And they were even more astonished to see Alex pushing her bed into Kara’s room the next day. When asked what she was doing, Alex replied sniffily “Well, clearly she’s useless on her own. Someone has got to make sure she behaves like an actual human being!”

From then on, they were inseparable.

It was Alex who still called her Kara, even when the Danvers said that she must change her name to Linda to avoid detection. 

It was Alex who stayed up with Kara on each passing birthday, waiting for Kal -- whose name was now Clark Kent -- to visit. He never did, though a letter would often arrive. Except Kara hated those more, because they had to be impersonal to avoid giving away information, and as such each missive contained as much emotion and affection as a handshake. 

And it was Alex who would usually end the day making increasingly diabolical plans to get petty revenge on him to make Kara laugh.

It was Kara who took Alex’s side in every argument she had with Eliza. It was Kara who made funny faces behind her silk fan to entertain Alex whenever Eliza forced them to accompany her to a luncheon. 

And it was Kara who held Alex’s hand tight as they stood silently at Jeremiah Danvers’ grave. It was Kara who sat quietly beside Alex after the funeral, and said nothing when Alex began sobbing -- faintly, in halting, reserved hiccups at first, then bigger and bigger until she was rasping her grief out into Kara’s collar while Kara stroked her hair.

Still, despite their mourning, there were still some things to be thankful for. They were far better off than the other Kryptonian stowaways with whom Kara had shared close quarters in the ship years ago.

The Kryptonian refugees had gathered among themselves, banding together like a school of fish in hostile waters -- which they were. 

Metropolis was not kind to them. Metropolitans were trade people, and while some had welcomed the new business, most were resentful of these newcomers whom they whispered had come to take their land, their resources and livelihood.

And so, the Kryptonians had kept mostly to themselves all these years, making a home for themselves in the fringes of this new land they had found themselves in. Within a few years, a growing settlement had formed, a hopeful patch of land they had called New Argo, after the city that once had been their home.

Here, in New Argo, the Kryptonians felt safe -- away from the reach of Rhea and the House of Daxam. And if they were not accepted, they were at least somewhat tolerated by the Metropolitans. 

Most Metropolitans would not cross into New Argo, and very few Kryptonians ventured too far into Metropolis. The few exceptions were Kara -- who lived in Metropolis with the Danvers family -- and the Olsens, who along with the Nals, owned an apothecary shop on Bakerline. 

_________

It is in this manner that Kara is brought up, with one foot in one world and one foot in the other. Never quite able to let go of the past and uncertain of the future, never able to share the entirety of herself to another.

Now that they’re older, Kal -- or Clark, as he seemed more to be now, since Kara saw little of the Kal she had known before in him now -- visits New Argo and Metropolis more often. 

He tries -- for Kara -- she knows he does. 

He makes attempts to cross the gulf that has opened between them, but it’s hard. There is too much secrecy, the need for it permeating every aspect of their lives so that neither of them really knows what to say to the other any more.

He does tell her things about himself -- how he has been invited to write for the new publication that Perry White, a visionary publisher, and an illustrious and irrepressible widow named Cat Grant had been trying to get off the ground. The paper is to be called The Daily Planet, and Clark is tremendously excited at how much good he could do in such a position. 

He speaks of how he had been invited to dine with the famed Luthor family, and had met the enigmatic Lex Luthor, who helms the Luthor Trading Company, and his beautiful sister. How he had the most fascinating conversation with a woman named Lois about the Metropolitans’ stance on New Argo at dinner with the Lanes’, and how they had spoken about what actions could be taken to build a bridge between the Metropolitans and the Kryptonians.

Kara tries to appreciate Kal’s efforts, but she cannot help but feel disconnected from him. Where is the boy who had taught her the prayers of Rao’s faithful? Who stood, tall, youthful and earnest in The Great Hall beside his father and told Kara stories of the Bethgars of old, and took pride in their family's legacy?

He asks about Kara’s life, but truthfully, there is not much to tell, and she can’t help but feel that this is at least partly his fault. The Danvers have sheltered her all these years for her own protection, but there is much she knows she has been kept from. 

It's been thirteen years since that night.

Thirteen years of change and secrecy, of hiding, of holding herself back in so many ways. 

Nights like this, however, give her the chance to drop her guard.

Tucked in cellar of Megan Mores’ home on the boundary between New Argo and Metropolis, she laughs as she watches the revelry around her. Even with twenty or so people crammed in the basement lit only by candles, her people still know how to have a good time.

She claps in time to the lively beat reverberating through the small space, nearly shaking the walls each time James plays the belahdiehd. 

Winn, one of her oldest friends and one of the few Metropolitans present, is well on his way to drunk from the Aldebaran rum Megan has been pouring all night. Someone really should have told Winn that stuff is deadly to anyone who doesn’t have a Kryptonian’s constitution for liquor.

Most of the revelers are Kryptonian and all of them are familiar to her. She waves to each of them and stops to converse with each one, cheerfully inquiring about their livelihoods and their little ones. They all respond warmly, chatting and laughing heartily with her. 

In the safety of this secret cloistered place, they all still call her Kara and the ones who are old enough to remember Krypton before they fled still call her Kir Bythgar, and she doesn’t have the heart to remind them that she is a princess no longer. She’s not Kara Zor-El anymore, she’s just Linda Lee Danvers.

She doesn’t begrudge them their nostalgia. She’s lived in Metropolis for thirteen years now, she’s lived here just as many years as she lived in Krypton. Outside of this basement, she looks and acts a Metropolitan as much as Alex does -- but she knows, in her heart, that a part of her is still that thirteen-year-old Kryptonian princess who never grew up.

She never speaks it out loud -- and she only ever lets herself think this thought at Gatherings like this, when she doesn't have to be Linda Lee Danvers -- but sometimes Kara feels as if she is the only El left.

Kal-El is now Clark Kent. He never speaks of Krypton. Instead, he speaks of Metropolis as if it is his home. He never speaks of their old friends in Krypton. He no longer speaks of their family, as if they had all vanished into the ether that terrible night.

Instead, every word out of Clark's mouth nowadays is usually attached to one of two names -- that of Lois Lane or Lex Luthor.

One is his beloved, and the other he calls his dearest friend. Kara sometimes wants to tease him that she can't tell which is which the way he talks about them both, but she and Clark are no longer familiar in that way.

She's never met Lex Luthor, but Kara has met Lois -- or rather, Linda has met Lois. She likes the older woman well enough: Lois is intelligent, bold and unafraid of speaking her mind. She keeps Clark on his toes, and she can see how happy Clark is with her.

Kara sometimes wishes she could be like her, that she can be as free with her words and her mind as Lois seems to be.

She spots Alex across the room. She’s talking to Kelly and another woman Kara doesn’t recognize. She can’t quite see her face, but from the looks of her, particularly the elegance of her clothes, she’s Metropolitan.

Alex beckons her over, and as Kara approaches, the other woman turns around, and the first thing that Kara immediately notices is the brilliant clarity of the woman’s jade-green eyes as she surveys the celebrations. There’s an agile curiosity in the way she watches the revelry around her, the people dancing to the belahd.

“This is my sister, Linda Lee.”

Those curious eyes flit to Kara’s and the lady holds out her hand. Kara takes it, expecting it to be soft and delicate, but instead, the other woman’s hands are surprisingly calloused and her grip is firm. She smiles archly as Kara stares at her. “Lena Luthor.”

So this is Lena Luthor. Only daughter of the most powerful family in Metropolis, and the sister of Clark’s best friend.

Kara vaguely remembers that Clark had described her as ‘beautiful’, but now she realizes her cousin has not done her justice. Lena Luthor is lissome and regal, her every move elegant even in the confines of this tiny, cloistered basement.

When Kelly manages to pull Alex over to the small makeshift dance floor, Kara and Lena are left on their own. Kara shifts nervously at first, unsure of what to say. Her sheltered upbringing has somewhat limited her capacity for small talk, and it’s especially difficult to come up with interesting and engaging conversation when faced with someone as beautiful and important as Lena Luthor.

But Lena surprises her. 

She’s a stranger to these Gatherings. Most Metropolitans are, since very few come to them. Lena is brimming with curiosity and asks about every dance and every song James plays on the belahdiehd. 

Kara tries to be careful about her answers. After all, she is supposed to be a Metropolitan too.

But Lena turns out to be dangerously easy to talk to. She’s effortlessly charming and she seems genuinely interested in listening to whatever Kara has to say.

At one point, their conversation turns to the latest advances in science, and Lena lights up even more. “.... I’ve heard of a self-taught inoculator from Scotland who claims to have developed a cure for smallpox, and while I’m skeptical about his technique, I think his ideas might have some merit.”

And Kara, who was once the youngest member of the Kryptonian Science Guild, is enthralled. She chimes in unreservedly, and the two of them spend most of the night by the fire, talking and talking. Kara doesn’t think she’s talked to someone this much or this freely in a long time, except perhaps Alex.

She tips her head, surveying Lena during a lull in their conversation. She’s never been good at filtering her thoughts before they leave her mouth, and Lena’s company is easy and comfortable. “You strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied.”

Lena stills. For the first time in their conversation, she draws herself up to her full height, and Kara is reminded of her station. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. You forget yourself, Miss Danvers.”

And Kara looks away, down at her hands, sure she’s overstepped. “I just -- I only meant.... You’re like me.” she fiddles with her hands on her lap. “I’ve never been satisfied.”

It’s Lena’s turn to study her. One perfect eyebrow arches. “Is that right?”

Kara nods, risking a glance at her companion. Lena is watching her with a strange look on her face, thoughtful and measuring at the same time. She’s spared the agony of thinking of a reply when Megan announces that the Metropolitan Police have started their patrol.

While there is nothing illegal about the Gatherings, people tend to frown at any event that brings Metropolitans and Kryptonians together, and they don’t need to bring down the wrath of any Metropolitan authorities on New Argo. The crowd disperses quickly, but quietly.

Kara walks Lena back to her carriage, while Alex waits impatiently for her in theirs. Lena gives her a contemplative smile as she stops at the small door. “Thank you for a very interesting evening. Goodbye, Linda.”

The name jolts Kara, and she flounders. It sounds wrong coming from Lena. Just before Lena climbs into the carriage, Kara takes her wrist. And despite the all of the warnings that have been drilled into her by Alex, Jeremiah, Eliza and Kal, she finds herself speaking in a quiet voice meant only for the other woman.

“Kara. My name is Kara Zor-El.”

___________

Kara Zor-El.

The name has been swirling in Lena’s head since she heard it that night at the Gathering. The name had confirmed Lena's suspicion that "Linda" was Kryptonian.

It changes nothing for her.

She had found Linda -- Kara -- to be a very intriguing woman. Pretty, mild-mannered and unassuming at first glance, but so very quick and clever behind those lovely azure eyes -- with a straightforward frankness that had both surprised and ensnared Lena.

It doesn’t matter to her that Kara is Kryptonian, but she does want to know more.

Kara Zor-El.

The name is somehow familiar. She has heard the name before.

She asks around as discreetly as she can, and her inquiries lead her to the deposed House of El and its missing scions, believed to be dead.

Clearly not, if Kara -- Linda -- is to be believed.

The next time they meet is at a garden party. As the widow of an important doctor, Eliza is invited. Alex and Kara tag along as her dutiful daughters, Alex squirming in her dress the whole way.

Lena gravitates toward Kara, and she can see the trepidation in her eyes. Kara’s hands open and close nervously at her sides as she awaits Lena’s reaction.

Lena leads them away from prying eyes down a small path, and as their surroundings get less crowded, Kara seems to become less agitated. She calms more the farther they get from the party.

By the time they reach the lovely little fountain at the end of the path, Kara has visibly relaxed, though she still looks at Lena tentatively.

“Why did you tell me your secret?”

Kara ducks her head, watches the water burbling in the fountain for a long moment. “I don’t know.... I’ve only told one other person, and that was Winn, and he’s been my friend since I first came here. He’s practically a brother to me. Only my family and the other Kryptonians from New Argo know.”

“So why tell me?” Lena asks softly.

Kara meets her eyes slowly, and Lena can see the plain honesty in the, “It’s very easy to trust you.”

A sense of lightness sweeps over Lena’s chest, and she smiles. “It’s very easy to trust you too.”

A slow smile blooms over Kara’s face, and Lena delights in it for a long moment. Then she reaches out and, very gently, touches Kara’s hand.

“Tell me about Krypton.”

___________

That is where it begins for Lena. The slow, intoxicating downward spiral of emotions that Kara induced in her.

It only grows from that one conversation, in which she had listened, enraptured, to Kara’s stories of Krypton. And with each new encounter -- over tea, at parties she makes sure Kara is invited to -- Lena becomes more and more enamored, until she catches her heart racing when she sees Kara’s smile. 

And she knows.

When Kara places her hand lightly on top of hers, and Lena’s heart skips a beat. When Lena says something that makes Kara throw her head back and laugh, and her heart soars along with the sound of Kara’s laughter -- she knows that what she feels has grown into something more.

She also knows there is simply nothing to be done about it.

Lillian has been pushing her to choose between two suitors, Jack Spheer and Morgan Edge. But Edge is simply abhorrent in every way, and while she adores Jack with all her heart, the thought of Jacky as a husband makes her balk just as much, because he has been a friend and almost a brother since childhood.

So it really is quite impossible for anything to come out of Lena's feelings, and so she keeps them to herself.

Then there is also the matter of Kara’s true identity. She has been in hiding for a long time, but the only thing protecting her right now is her anonymity. What happens if that is somehow taken away from her? She would be in danger, not just from Rhea, but also the other Metropolitans who are already hostile toward the Kryptonians. 

The anti-Kryptonian sentiment has been rising with alarming swiftness throughout Metropolis recently. Enough that Lena knows Kara’s cousin has been investigating possible links between Rhea's regime in Krypton. It’s already necessitated several dangerous trips there for Clark, Kara has told her, and Lena is worried for her friend. 

But, if Kara were under the protection of the Luthors....

No one would dare to come after Kara if she had the might of the Luthor family behind her.

As she watches Kara try to sip her tea as delicately as possible, Lena makes her decision. She reaches across the table and takes Kara’s hand. “Come with me.”

She rises, tugging Kara lightly with her. Kara sets the teacup down carefully, as if trying to avoid breaking the delicate thing. She tips her head curiously at Lena, but allows her to pull her along. “Where are we going?”

“I’m about to change your life.”

She leads Kara to the door of Lex’s study and knocks.

__________

Lex Luthor is a strange man, Kara thinks.

There’s something about him, something enigmatic that immediately draws the eye. Perhaps its the way he moves with confident ease through any room, commanding attention. He’s larger than life, and he has a charismatic way about him that makes it easy to gravitate toward him.

Kara doesn’t quite feel the same ease with him that she does with Lena, and in fact, she feels a certain discomfiture around him when he first asks to court her. She’s never had anyone court her, and to have her first suitor be the great Lex Luthor is enough to make Kara want to curl in on herself and hide.

It takes her and every one around her aback, because Lex is older and such a prominent figure, and Kara is, well, Kara. Or rather, Linda. But Lex gallantly applies himself to the task, and with Lena gently encouraging her, Kara slowly warms to him and she begins to spend more time with him. 

Lex treats her with the same affection he gives Lena, and Kara has to admit, it feels nice to be the center of someone’s attention. She warms to him the way she warms to everyone else. She doesn't feel any of the affection for him that she saw between Jeremiah and Eliza, but she likes him well enough because Lena seems to love him so much. And she supposes that love can come later when they are married.

And Kara does find him intriguing. These Luthors entrance her, with their piercing intelligence and easy charisma. Lex reminds her of Lena, a bit. The way their brilliance simmers just underneath the skin -- Lena's brilliance is more tranquil; it radiates from her, like the sheen of a pearl; but with Lex it seems to coil and tense under a thin veneer.

She craves to know more about them. Kara calls on Luthor Manor more and more often. Often, it's Lex she sees there, since he is her intended. And she enjoys reading the books he gives her, and playing chess with him.

He tells her stories, of the history of the world as they play, things she never knew from her sheltered upbringing with the Danvers. Her family never neglected her education, nor did they keep her ignorant, but there is so much Kara has been kept from, and Lex, like Lena, seems to know so much.

On one occasion, he tells her of Philip of Macedon, and his son Alexander the Great, for whom Lex himself was named, and how he conquered the world. And Kara smiles as she moves her next piece.

"This appeals to you, the idea of conquering the world." This is as close as Kara's come to teasing him, and she lets it show in her voice. It's almost domestic, this routine they've fallen into while playing chess.

Lex huffs a short laugh. "You sound like my sister."

Kara can't help it, the way she looks up at any mention of Lena's name, the warmth it introduces to her chest, spilling down to her stomach slowly, like honey. Her smile is soft, and Lex notices.

"You remind me of her sometimes. The two of you share many things." 

"Well," Kara keeps her voice light. "We are friends."

"More than that, you two are kindred spirits. You both aspire to be good." There's a note in Lex's voice that sounds almost condescending at the word. "You both believe in the good in people. You both belong in the light."

Then he smiles, teeth flashing. “Checkmate.”

“Not again!” Kara groans, and Lex laughs, teasing. She ducks her head and joins him in light laughter. It feels comfortable, and Lex promises to teach her how to play better with an affectionate smile. She can see why Lena loves him.

The more time Kara spends with Lex, the more she likes him.  And the more time she spends with Lena, the happier she is. This is nice, she thinks. Playing chess with Lex, then having tea with Lena in her lovely sitting room later, just the two of them.

Whenever Kara gets back home, she's always smiling brightly, and Eliza teases her, says it's the happiness of a young girl in love. Alex is a little bit more skeptical, but she sees Kara’s light mood, and she refrains from saying anything.

When she joins Lena for tea later that week, Kara gives her permission to tell Lex her secret.

_____________

Lena watches the growing closeness between her brother and her friend from the sidelines.

She can see how much good this union will do. It's necessary, it's best for Kara, to protect her. And on top of that, she can see the hope it gives Kara’s people. 

Already, she can see the changes.

Kara's true identity is still secret, of course, but as she becomes more and more visible with the Luthors, among the Kryptonians of Argo -- who know who Kara truly is, and look to her and her cousin as their leaders -- there is already a burgeoning sense of cautious hope, a possibility of more than just existing alongside the people of Metropolis, but of a union, of acceptance.

And this, to Lena, is further proof that she made the right choice. That this is the best way.

Lena can see the way Lex makes Kara smile, and he is as affectionate toward her as he is with Lena herself. And Kara, sweet Kara, who envelops everyone with her warmth and earnestness -- how could anyone not love her?

And Kara is always so excited to tell Lena everything she and Lex talk of. More than anything, Lena cherishes the moments she and Kara share just before Kara leaves. After her visit with Lex, Lena gets to steal Kara for herself, a little bit of precious time for the two of them to talk. ‘Ladies' gossip’, Lex calls it.

But these moments are never filled with idle chatter for Lena. 

She's enraptured by everything Kara has to say, about Krypton, about the new things she's learned from Lex -- Lena has heard them all, of course, but seeing everything through Kara's eyes provides her with a uniquely refreshing perspective that thrills her. 

And Kara seems equally interested in everything Lena has to say, God knows why -- but she'll listen raptly as Lena babbles on about her study in finding vaccinations for smallpox, which everyone else regards as preposterous and unladylike, but Kara nods along excitedly and provides her own ideas and opinions

This is more than Lena can hope for. This way, she gets to keep Kara in her life.

Kara was wrong. Lena can learn to be satisfied. She can.

When Clark returns from Krypton, Lex suggests to Lena that they all dine together. 

"They are to be part of the family, after all." There's something about the way he says it, a note just slightly off-tune, his smile a tad too much like the one Lex wears when he plays chess against her and is near victory.

But then he puts his arm around her, warm affection all but seeping through his voice against Lena's temple.

"And I owe it all to you, sister. This is all because of you, Lena. Remember that."

Lena takes this for ardor, and she embraces him warmly, accepting his affection and gratitude as if it doesn't pain her, as if she is happy for him. 

And she is.

__________

This is the domestic scene Clark comes home to, Kara all but ensconced in the Luthor home. His first instinct is to be defensive, to protect his cousin -- they’ve kept their identities hidden for so long, how can Kara share the truth without telling him?

But then he sees her with the Luthors. 

Lillian is distant and pragmatic, but Lex is affectionate toward her, and Clark knows his closest friend to be a trustworthy man. He would never hurt Kara.

And Lena, well.... Clark sees the clear devotion between the two women, and he’s happy Kara has found a loyal friend and a confidante of her own. And when he sees how lighter she seems now than she ever has since they left Krypton, he smiles and tells her he’s happy for her.

___________

It begins after the wedding.

More and more Kryptonians had begun integrating into Metropolis, and the Gatherings between Metropolitans and Kryptonians become less secret and become more of the celebrations they were always meant to be. Kara’s marriage had drawn Kryptonians and their supporters out, and it had been a hopeful thing.

Until the Children of Liberty emerged with them.

They had started out in the fringes -- small, random isolated attacks, and Clark had been keeping an eye on them. However, they gain momentum quickly as more Kryptonians come out of the woodwork and become bigger targets for bigger attacks.

Storefronts damaged and defaced in the dead of night. A hooded and masked group carrying torches chasing down and terrorizing a young Kryptonian girl who had ventured into Metropolis to visit the Nals’ apothecary at Bakerline. Luckily, Clark and James had been nearby and had managed to fight most of the group off, while Nia had taken the girl quickly back to New Argo and delivered her safely to her parents.

And then the illness starts.

It hits the older people first. A couple of people, then five, then ten, then enough that Kelly has to leave the apothecary so she can tend to the sick.

Then come the children. Little ones crying for their mothers as they convulse on the bed, sweating and heaving. One after the other, they fall ill and Kelly makes a valiant effort, but it’s simply too much, and even Eliza and Alex have to come and help.

It’s simply too much, and Kara cannot stand by and let this happen to her people. An illness that only spreads among Kryptonians? It’s too deliberate. She knows that somehow, the Children of Liberty are behind this.

The organization is shadowy and incredibly effective, leading Lena, Kara and Clark to believe that it's being funded by people in high places. Lex offers to help the investigation by giving them access to Luthor Trading Co resources, but the answers remain elusive.

It’s only after weeks of fruitless investigation into the Children of Liberty and after several Kryptonians have already died of the mysterious disease, that Kara discovers that the sickness is caused by a certain substance found only on Krypton called Kryptonite. She discovers that it has been introduced to New Argo’s water supply, and the efforts to stop the spread begin in earnest, but the damage has been done, and the sick continue to get sicker.

Clark manages to procure a sample with great difficulty, despite the resources Lex has offered, and he gives the sample to Lena to study.

Lena applies all her skills and intellect into developing an antidote and a vaccine to the Kryptonite like she has never applied herself to anything before. She studies the substance diligently, with little thought to food or sleep.

When she has a breakthrough -- finally discovers how the substance was produced and takes one step closer to finding a cure -- it’s not what she expects. Nor what she wants to see.

The Kryptonite, she discovers, targets specific parts of the body’s cells, and Kryptonians have a particularly high susceptibility to the substance. And even more than disturbing, some of the materials that are necessary to produce the Kryptonite are incredibly rare. In fact, she knows only one trading company who would possibly have access to these materials.

Luthor Trading Company.

She enters her mother’s study on shaking legs. Lillian spares her a short disdainful look before returning to her book.

“How could you, Mother?”

Lillian doesn’t look up, merely drawls in a bored voice “How could I what?”

“All those people.... I knew you were no saint, but I had no idea you were the devil incarnate.”

This time, Lillian does look up with casual, almost bored, disdain. “What are you talking about?”

“Those people in New Argo! You procured the materials to produce Kryptonite, and you poisoned their water supply! Why would you do this?? Don’t tell me you’re one of those fools who believes the Kryptonians are here to steal resources from our business? How could that ever justify killing them? How could that ever justify what you’ve done?”

Lillian rises from her desk and pins Lena with a glacial look. For a moment, Lena feels like a child being cowed into submission. But she holds her ground.

“If I were you, I would choose my next words wisely, Lena. Don’t go making accusations on things you know nothing about. I'm not the one you should be chastising. After all, I’m not the one who poisoned those people. And I’m certainly not the one about to deliver your friend to her greatest enemy”

“What? What are you talking about?”

Lillian laughs, low and cruel. “Oh, you truly are slow, Lena. Gullible where your brother is brilliant. He had the right idea and the right sentiment against those parasites.”

Horror creeps over Lena as the realization slowly dawns on her. “Lex....” her voice breaks. “.... Lex was the one who poisoned all those people?”

"Finally, you’re catching up.” Lillian smiles, her lips a sharp, curved line, like a scythe slashed across her face. “Why do you think he married that worthless little twit? He needed a bargaining chip. Something he could trade for the materials he needed to make the Kryptonite and wipe out New Argo.”

Lena’s heart stops, and an icy sweat breaks out all over her body. “Kara...?”

“.... Is probably being delivered to Queen Rhea’s hands as we speak.”

Something inside Lena breaks, and she doesn’t remember rushing out of Lillian’s study, or the cruel laugh that trails after her. She doesn’t remember running and almost falling down the stairs in her haste. She doesn’t even remember mounting her horse and racing through the streets of Metropolis.

All she can think of is Kara, in danger because of her. Kara who could die because Lena was a fool and had unwittingly betrayed her. All this time, she’d thought she was protecting Kara, giving hope to the people of New Argo, when really she’d been offering Kara up to Rhea on a silver platter, and leading the Kryptonians by the hand to their deaths.

She’s so numb to everything else around her that she is nearly unseated when the explosion rocks the whole city. The ground beneath her trembles in the resulting blast, and she has to hold on to keep from falling off when her horse rears up in fright. It comes from a few miles east, near the port, where the Luthor Trading Company keeps its ships docked.

KARA!

Lena wastes no time. Once her spooked horse is under control, she turns toward the docks. Her breath comes heavy and she rides as fast as she can, but she’s too late.

There’s too much confusion at the scene -- too much smoke, people running to put out the fires as they spread from the docks to the homes, people fleeing the fires with their children and their possessions.

She can’t find Kara anywhere.

She tries to stay and look for her, but one of the fire wardens sees Lena trying to approach the burning wreckage, and hauls her away, struggling the whole time. She only calms down when she’s told that only one body was pulled out of the wreckage.

"Miss Luthor.... it’s your brother.”

______________

Everything descends into chaos then.

A witness, a dock worker named Ben Lockwood, comes forward, stating that he had seen Lex Luthor in a confrontation with Clark Kent.  According to Lockwood, Kent claimed that Luthor was trying to kill the Kryptonians somehow with the illness that had spread through New Argo. Luthor, in turn, had exposed Kent and his cousin, Luthor’s wife as Kryptonian anarchists trying to incite a rebellion to take over Metropolis and claim it for the Kryptonians. 

Luthor had then produced a device with what he claimed to be an unstable substance inside. Kent had tried to take it from him, and in the ensuing struggle, the device exploded.

It doesn’t matter how factual Lockwood’s statement was. Lex’s body at the site of the explosion is enough to seal her fate.

She returns home to find her mother, and all of the valuables in the house, gone. With Lillian gone, Lex dead, his wife revealed as a Kryptonian and both her and Clark Kent missing, the only one left to shift the blame to is Lena.

The whole city condemns her. Metropolitans blame her for the wreckage her brother inflicted on their home. They point the finger at her and say she must have been involved in it somehow. Even orchestrated it. After all, she is the only one left unscathed.

She inherits the company, and the mess Lex left behind. There’s still the Kryptonite poisoning to contend with, and now that she knows her brother was behind it, she throws herself into the work even more. People are still dying, and if she doesn’t come up with a vaccine soon, even more people will die.

All because Lena was a fool.

On top of it all, the Children of Liberty grows stronger -- now they call themselves Cadmus, and this time, their messages of hate contain a proclamation of vengeance, for the life of Metropolis’ son, Lex Luthor -- whom they have now claimed as their hero.

They blame Lena for this too.

She grits her teeth and bears it all, as she should. She scrambles blindly to keep everything together. The vaccine. The business. The family name.

But even all this is easier to bear than the memory of seeing Kara’s room empty. Of walking up the stairs to the Danvers’ porch and knocking on the doors fruitlessly.  The house is dead and empty, devoid of Kara’s warmth and Alex’s teasing laughter.

Kara is gone, and Lena is completely and utterly alone.

________________

It’s a member of Rhea’s court who saves Kara.

His name is J’onn J’onnz and he reveals himself first to Clark the night of the explosion. He tells him of how he had served as one of Jor-El’s advisors before he was murdered, but Rhea had taken his wife and daughters, and threatened to kill them if he didn’t serve her.

He tells Clark of Rhea’s search for the last remaining members of the House of El, and how it had ended when Lex Luthor had approached her with a deal -- he would deliver Kara Zor-El and Kal-El to her, if she gave him the means to eradicate the Kryptonian population in New Argo.

J’onn also tells him of the growing rebellion in Krypton, of the roiling unrest under Rhea’s regime. J’onn himself has been involved in the emerging movement, at great personal risk. But the movement needs a leader the people can rally behind.

It��s at this point that Clark Kent makes a decision.

He is at a crossroads. He can choose to claim the mantle of the House of El as he was meant to all those years ago. Or he can confront the terrible reality that lies before him now -- that his people here in New Argo are dying, and it is because of the man he had loved and called a friend.

He chooses the latter. And now he lies on a pallet in a dark, cramped room, bleeding half to death as his wife mops his brow and tries to stave off his fever. He has bounty on his head placed there by the Children of Liberty -- or Cadmus, as he hears they’re called now -- for “killing” Lex Luthor, and he’s going to die if he doesn’t get medical help soon.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps as Lois adjusts the bandage she had tied around wound on his stomach. “If it weren’t for me--”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Smallville,” Lois presses a kiss to his brow. “This still beats Sunday dinners with my Father.”

He smiles weakly but the smile turns into a groan of pain as Lois presses on the wound again to keep it from bleeding.

At least Kara is safe with J’onn now.

_______________

Kara braces her hands on the table in front of her. The wood creaks where her hands grip it so forcefully, but she doesn’t hear it.

The messenger who delivered the news from Metropolis quails under her murderous stare, and J’onn dismisses him before he can say anything more. As the messenger scurried out, he lays a calming hand on Kara’s shoulder.

They’ve been travelling together for months, ever since the night she had been secreted away from Metropolis by Alex and J’onn and Eliza. In all that time, the one thing that had kept Kara going forward and preventing her from going back was the fact that with Lillian forced underground and Lex dead, Rhea remained the biggest threat.

He also knows Kara well enough by now to know when she needs a moment. “You need to calm down, Kara. This is a good thing.”

Kara looks up at him, her eyes almost wild. “How is this good, J’onn? How is any of this good? My cousin is missing, possibly dead. And my friend is being condemned for something she didn’t do, and the whole of Metropolis is out for her blood.”

J’onn keeps his voice calm and steady. “You heard what James reported, they’re still searching for Kal-El. Cadmus would want all of New Argo to know if Kal-El was dead. All signs point to him still being alive. As for the Luthors, Luthor Trading Company is failing. We know Rhea was relying on their trading partnership for funds. Without the Luthors, we’ve managed to cut off another significant limb holding up Rhea’s rule..... We have achieved so much in these past months, Kara. We have dismantled structures that have been in place for thirteen years. We have forced Rhea to retreat as her forces become smaller and smaller... I don’t think you realize how much this means to these people fighting with us. To the people of Krypton. We are so close to bringing down Rhea’s regime and restoring Krypton’s freedom. To restoring your throne. You cannot give up now.”

Kara looks away, and for the first time, she doesn’t accept his comfort. She shrugs her shoulder out of his head. “I need some air.”

J’onn opens his mouth to say something, but Alex steps forward and shakes her head. “I’ll talk to her.”

Kara isn’t outside the tent, but Alex finds her sitting in front of a dying fire near the edge of their camp. She’s poking viciously at the fizzling embers, a dark expression on her face.

Alex almost hesitates. She’s never seen Kara like this, not in all the years they’ve been sisters. “Wanna tell me what’s going on in your head?”

Kara exhales, long and slow. When she speaks, her voice breaks. “I want to go back, Alex. I need to go back. I know we’re doing the right thing here, but.... Clark... He could be dying, Alex. And a part of me is so angry at him right now, because he’s the reason why I’m here, because he chose to stay in Metropolis. And no one else would take up the crest of the House of El. He abandoned it a long time ago, and I was the only -- the only one left. And if he dies... if he dies, I truly will be the only El left.”

Alex doesn’t say anything, because she knows this has been building inside Kara for a long time.

“And Lena.” Kara’s eyes are shiny with tears now, reflecting the firelight. “She’s all alone, Alex. Everyone is turning against her, and she has no one. Lex betrayed her, and I left her. And I know you think she helped Lex, I can see it in your face every time I bring her up. But I know her, Alex. I know she would never hurt anyone, let alone create the Kryptonite that killed so many people. She would never, Alex.”

Kara’s voice breaks into a sob, and she pulls her knees up to her chest. “I never even got to say goodbye. To either of them.”

Alex scoots closer to her sister, tentatively putting one arm around her. Kara doesn’t brush her off like she did J’onn, but she doesn’t relax either. "You didn't think that Lex would do what he did either, Kara. None of us did, and yet here we are..... The truth is, Lena is a Luthor. And I think we've learned now that Luthors cannot be trusted. I know you care about Lena, but your life is in danger as well, and your people are in danger. If you go back, and the Luthors don't attack you, there's still Rhea to contend with. And she's not above hurting people just to get to you. We can't go back."

Under her arm, Kara sighs deeply, and a few tears slip from the corners of her eyes. She sniffs and gently disengages from Alex’s arm. “You’re right. I-I should probably get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, Alex.”

Without waiting for a reply, Kara trudges off to her tent, leaving Alex to stare after her with a heavy heart.

________________

In the middle of the night, a knock sounds on the door of the Olsens’ house in New Argo. After a few seconds of silence, the knocking resumes, and James drags himself out of bed to answer, unwilling to let the knocking wake his sleeping mother, and knowing it would take a canon to wake Kelly in the middle of the night.

He peers through the hole in the door to see who this midnight caller is, and when he sees, he almost doesn’t open the door.

The knocking resumes, more urgently this time, and James sighs. He opens the door to find himself face-to-face with Lena Luthor.

“What are you doing here?” James knows his voice is hostile, but he doesn’t care.

If Lena is at all intimidated by his hostility, she doesn’t show it. “I need your help. Yours and Kelly’s.”

James scoffs, shaking his head with a humorless laugh. “You Luthors really are something. You think I would ever help you, after what your brother did?”

He moves to close the door, but Lena blocks him with her arm. “Wait! Please! I found him! I found Clark!”

That stops him for a moment. “What?”

“I found Clark.” Lena repeats breathlessly. “He’s in a cellar in an abandoned house near the docks. Lois is with him. He’s badly hurt--”

“And why should I trust you?”

Lena fixes him with a level look, her green eyes clear. “I know you don’t trust me, James, and I understand. Truly, I do. If I were in your position, I would feel the same way. But Clark needs help. If we don’t help him, he will die.”

James stares at her for a long moment, trying to see the lie in her eyes, and she meets his gaze head-on, without any trace of artifice. Then he sighs. He might end up regretting this later, but if there’s even the slightest chance he could save Clark, he’ll take it.

He opens the door wide enough for Lena to walk through. “Tell me what I need to do.”

_________________

When Kara Zor-El finally sets foot in the palace of Krypton -- the place of her birth, her old home -- after thirteen years of being gone, it's as if she never left. The exact scene lifted out of her nightmares -- people screaming and fleeing, the West Tower burning -- plays out in front of her numb eyes as if Fate is glories in letting her relive it again.

This time, she walks through the great doors, no longer the fleeing young girl, being carried kicking and screaming from her home. This time, she’s come to take it back.

She encounters very little resistance. Servants scurry past her to flee or plead for mercy. Rhea’s soldiers lay down arms in surrender at the sight of them.

Kara knows where she’ll find Rhea. She walks slowly through the Great Hall, up the steps she’d run down as a child. The last time she had been here, her uncle’s blood had marked the steps, and her father had stood between her and death.

She enters the throne room, knowing she’ll find Rhea there.

What she doesn’t expect to see are the three bodies lying at the feet of the throne. Two dead, one dying.

Kara drops her sword and rushes to Rhea’s side immediately. Her husband and son lie lifeless beside her, but Rhea continues to choke on life. Kara spies the small vial of what she recognizes as Kryptonite tipped over on the seat of the throne.

She orders the others to check on Rhea’s husband and son, but she knows it’s useless. Rhea she lifts as blood drips from her mouth. This woman killed her parents and has plagued her life for so many years, has given her nightmares nearly every night -- and yet now that she sees the husk of a woman choking on her own blood and bile, her eyes wide and gaping, it feels cruel to let her die like this.

Rhea's eyes bulge at her, demonic even to her last breath. "I will take my family to hell before I let you have them."

Kara draws her sword to end her suffering, but Rhea wrenches away, refusing mercy. There is nothing clean or dignified about her death, she retches and claws at her throat as her body attempts to fight off the poison to no avail. And all Kara can think of is how this woman sentenced all those people in New Argo to die in this way.

When it is done, she orders the bodies to be disposed of in a secret plot, with no markers or memorials. If she could erase every single trace of their existence on Krypton, she would.

She should be satisfied. 

She should feel some sort of release now that the woman who had killed her family is dead. 

But she doesn’t. Instead Kara just feels tired. And empty.

Maybe it is true, what she told Lena when they first met. She’ll never be satisfied.

_______________

James hesitates at the doorway to Lena’s sitting room. “Listen, Lena... Perhaps you should... stay home for today.”

Lena looks up at his concerned face. It’s a far cry from the look of judgment and mistrust with which he had greeted her when she first asked him for help.

“Clark and I can help Kelly administer the vaccines. You don’t need to put yourself through that again.”

‘That’ had been the persistent rejection of the people of New Argo whenever Lena came and attempted to administer the vaccine.

It’s been a month since she had finally completed it. James hadn’t trusted her at first, had kept looking over her shoulder whenever she worked. Or followed her whenever she brought down supplies to the basement of Luthor Manor where she had made accommodations for Clark and Lois. Eventually, however, his distrust lessened -- Lena suspects Clark or Lois or Kelly or even Winn had talked to him -- and Lena considered it a small personal victory when he had allowed her to inoculate him.

The other people of New Argo, however, are not as easy to convince.

Every time Lena arrives to administer the inoculations, doors and shutters close in her face. Everyone is too afraid of her, of what the Luthor might do to them. They don’t trust her, or her cure.

She’s seen Clark talk to the citizens about this, but Lena knows it’s pointless. The damage was too great. The kind of fear and hatred Lex left behind takes a long time to be erased. It might never heal completely, just like Clark’s own scars.

“You’re right, James.” Lena smiles, handing over the box of vaccines to him. “Thank you. My presence hinders the operation more than it helps. This should be about helping people, not about me. You, Kelly and Clark can do it.”

“Just you and Kelly today, I think, my friend.”

Both James and Lena turn to see Clark limping toward them. Lois walks beside him, ready to help if needed. “I’d like to talk to Lena, if you’re done.”

James nods at Clark, then tips his head at Lena, before leaving silently, taking the box with him.

Clark seats himself slowly at the chair beside the fireplace and Lois, bless her, pretends to busy herself somewhere else. Lena takes a seat opposite him, waiting.

“I’ve been thinking, Lena. There are still Kryptonians in Krypton who are vulnerable to Kryptonite. Someone needs to bring the vaccines to them, to ensure that no one else suffers from this disease.”

Lena immediately picks up on his train of thought. “And you want me to do it?”

“I need to stay behind to protect New Argo from Cadmus. Kelly, I suspect, will want to go, but she’s agreed to stay behind at least until we finish the inoculations here. James could go with you, to accompany you on your journey as well as witness to the events here. And I know Winn wants to go as well. You wouldn’t be alone.”

Lena hesitates, biting her lip. Metropolis is all she's ever known. And even though Kara has told her so much about it, Krypton is still a foreign place that seems as distant as a dream.

“I... I truly don’t know, Clark. Kryptonians hate me right now, because of what Lex did. And my family’s company is on its last legs. And there’s still so much to be done...” Lena's words trail off when she sees Clark smiling gently at her. 

"You are not Lex, Lena.” Clark reaches over and places his hand gently on top of hers. The gesture reminds her so much of Kara. She’d been doing an admirable job of not thinking about Kara the past month. Once she’d found out that Kara was alive and unharmed, she had deliberately stopped herself from thinking about her.

It hurt too much.

“You have so much good in you, Lena. So much love in your heart..... Why do you stay and keep your heart here, for a family that betrayed you so cruelly, for a legacy that's been tainted and holds nothing but poison for you -- when we both know that heart belongs to someone else in Krypton? To the woman who has only ever held love for you in hers?"

Lena looks up at him, eyes wide, and Clark chuckles. “You talk in your sleep. I hear you sometimes when you fall asleep at your desk. And always, it’s Kara’s name you say.”

Lena worries her lower lip with her teeth again, looking away. “What if she doesn’t want to see me?”

“Oh, Lena. If I know Kara, I don’t think that would ever be the case.”  Clark pulls her into an embrace that reminds her so much of Lex, of the brother she had before this madness, and Lena chokes out a sob. Clark strokes her hair gently.

"I will stay. Krypton has Kara, but the people of New Argo need me. Cadmus is still a threat, and there is a family business that needs to be run here, am I correct?"

Lena looks up at him, surprised. "You mean --"

Clark grins at her. "Well, we’d have to do something about your mother trying to kill me first. And I've never tried running a company, so I might do a far worse job than you did. But I have Ma and Pa, and Lois. I don't think the trading business is ready for Lois, but I think it'll have to be. She won't give it a choice....You don't mind if I change it to El Trading Company, do you?"

Lena laughs. "I wouldn't mind setting Lois loose on those pompous bastards. Morgan Edge won't know what hit him."

She embraces Clark warmly. "Thank you, Clark."

Clark smiles into her hair. "No need for thanks between family, Lena."

He waves her off at the docks, Lois, Kelly and the Kents beside him. Lena stands on the deck of the ship to Krypton, clutching the red cape that Clark had given her to wear. 

He had told Lena that it would keep her safe. Now that the House of El was once again securely on the throne, no Kryptonian would dare attack anyone who wore the El crest on their person.

The sea voyage is enjoyable enough for Lena. Though she pities poor Winn who got seasick on the first day and never gained his sea legs until the last day and had to spend most of the trip in his bunk.

She spends most of her time on the deck, feeling the salty breeze against her skin. James often accompanies her. Now that he no longer distrusts her, she has observed a significant difference in his attitude towards her.

He is kinder, gentler, more thoughtful around her. He makes for quite fun company, to be honest, and he makes her laugh when she’s in a pensive mood.

Lena is not blind to his attentions, his courting. She allows him, because he’s a good man and, quite honestly, it's nice to have someone who wants her, after so long being hated. 

But at the same time, it makes her feel guilty, because she knows her heart belongs only to one person.

But that person is Queen of Krypton now, and if she was too good for Lena when she was still Linda Lee Danvers, she's leagues beyond Lena now. 

What does Lena have that she can offer Kara now? No prestige, no money, no protection, just the tatters of a name that she was once proud of that now only leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

And even if Lena does something to offer Kara, there's nothing to tell Lena that she views Lena as anything more than a once-sister or a former friend whose brother betrayed Kara in the cruelest way possible. And hadn’t she betrayed Kara as well, by pushing her towards Lex? Her own selfishness, her desire to have Kara in her life, had blinded her to Lex’s machinations, and she had delivered Kara to him without a fight.

And even if, by some miracle, Kara doesn't hate her -- if Fate smiles down on Lena for once in her miserable life -- and Kara still holds some measure of love for Lena in her heart, that love would never be the same as the way Lena loves her. Not in the way that the mere memory of Kara's smile fills Lena's heart with unbridled joy. Or the way each small touch of Kara's hand on hers had made her whole body burn and her heart skip a beat.

So Lena tempers her battered yet relentlessly hopeful heart, douses it with pragmatic reasoning, and determinedly turns toward James with a hopeful smile, as if she can teach herself to love him and not Kara.

Kara was wrong. Lena can be satisfied. She is.

She repeats the words in her head every night and wills herself to think of James’ hands holding hers, instead of Kara’s. She is satisfied.

____________

The ship docks at Dendahu in Krypton and immediately word spreads of the woman who wears the El sigil, who claims she bears the cure for the poison their brothers and sisters on New Argo have died from.

Kara thinks -- she dares to hope that it might be Lena. That her friend whom she loves so much doesn't hate her like her "husband" did. That she's come for Kara.

She almost races to the docks -- a full day's trip from the capital on the fastest horse. But Alex stops her. Caution, Alex warns. They still don't actually know how involved Lena was with the Children of Liberty, or how much she actually supported Lex.

"Think with your head, not with your heart." Alex tells her, and Kara knows she's just being cautious and protective, but she wants to shake her and tell her, that she knows Lena, and she knows that Lena would never want to hurt anyone, that Lena would never do anything so vile.

They arrive at the capital two days later, and Kara nearly runs out to meet them. They're surrounded by palace attendants and a small crowd. She sees Winn first, looking curiously around at the courtyard. James is at the bottom of the gigantic steps, helping a cloaked feminine figure off her horse.

Her back is turned, and Kara can see she is wearing the sigil of the House of El on her back, her dark hair spilling over it. Kara's breath gets stuck in her throat, and she expels it all in one breathless sigh. "Lena...."

The figure turns to her once she's dismounted, and Kara can see tears in green eyes that mirror the ones pooling in Kara's own, obscuring her vision.

All dignity lost and forgotten, Kara stumbles down the stairs, her hands reaching out for her friend. She can vaguely see Lena thrust the ornate box in her hands into Winn’s, and her own arms open to receive Kara.

“Lena... Lena...” Kara falls into Lena's arms, clinging to her friend as if her life depends on it. She can hear herself sobbing Lena's name over and over, and she knows people are watching them, but she can't stop herself.

She buries her face in Lena's neck and inhales her friend's familiar heady scent as she sobs. She doesn't even know why her emotions feel so out of control, she just knows she wants to keep Lena in her arms after so long without her. 

She clings to Lena the way she used to cling to Kal, when she had lost everything she held dear, and in some ways it feels like she had, and it’s now been restored to her. 

It’s as if the emptiness she’d been feeling since Rhea’s death has been replaced by the fullness of Lena’s presence. Kara feels whole again.

And Lena seems just as keen to hold her. She whispers "Oh, Kara..." into her hair and strokes her back, calling her darling and all these sweet names, and Kara just cries.

Eventually, Winn snickers and James clears his throat, reminding them that they must part, and Kara does so unwillingly, brushing back a lock of hair behind Lena's ear with a watery laugh.  

She accepts the vaccine for the Kryptonite and extends and invitation for Lena and the boys to stay at the palace. James delivers his report, and testifies to Lena's kindness and everything she's done, not only to cure the Kryptonite, but also to save Kal-El. Winn seconds it enthusiastically, though he’s not

Kara beams at her friend and threads their fingers together just like they used to. ”I never doubted it.”

Lena smiles back sweetly, squeezing her fingers.

As the days pass, however, Kara notices a change. James is more solicitous and thoughtful around Lena, always inquiring about her, holding doors open for her, offering to help her out of carriages, eager to keep her company on walks.

It should make Kara happy that two of her closest friends are becoming closer and closer. James is a good man, and Lena deserves all the happiness she can find in the world. 

But all she feels is a heaviness in her chest, like a lump under her breastbone, whenever she sees James smiling at Lena, or whenever she looks for Lena to keep her company on her daily walk and she finds out from one of the servants that Lena has been accompanied by James. The effervescent sense of happiness she’d felt with Lena’s arrival dims, and she feels guilty for it. She should be happy for them.

But she can't help but feel jealous when she finds out that James has taken it upon himself to show Lena around the capital. It's childish and immature, Kara knows it, but she was the one who had told Lena of these special places in Krypton back when they were still talking in contented silence in Lena's sitting room in Luthor Manor.

It was Kara who had shared these places and her memories of them to Lena, and she wanted to be the one to share these places with her in the flesh. Instead, it's James who brings Lena to the gardens of Kandor, to Kara's favorite river.

She sulks in the palace, until Lena returns home, flushed and bright-eyed, on James's arm, hanging onto his every word. All the while, the jealousy inside Kara simmers and hulks like a hurt creature until she can’t take it anymore.

She very politely and tentatively summons Lena to her private sitting room in the palace. They haven't seen each other much at all since Lena came to Krypton -- not nearly enough for Kara -- and she desperately misses the talks they used to have by the fire when they were still in Metropolis.

But so much has changed since then, and she hesitates.

She awkwardly asks Lena if she's enjoying Krypton, and Lena smiles and nods "Everyone has been good to me here, and I am so thankful. To you, most of all. Your kindness and warm welcome has turned the favor of Kryptonians toward me, and I -- I'm just grateful you still consider me a friend. Even after everything that Lex did."

Kara reaches out for her with wide eyes. "Of course I still consider you a friend! Lena..... I never, for a second, thought that you had anything to do with Lex's betrayal. You are far, far too good for that. And he... he betrayed you too. He betrayed us all, but he was your brother and you loved him."

“ But I introduced the two of you. I encouraged the two of you -- and he was your husband. I toasted your union, and the whole time--"

"It wasn't about Lex," Kara cuts in, her gaze dropping away from Lena's. Her hands open and close spasmodically at her sides, and the familiar nervous little habit almost makes Lena smile. "It wasn't him that I--"

Her voice trails off, and a charged silence grows between them. After a moment, Kara seems to steel herself. "I have something for you."

She reaches up to the back of her neck and unclasps the necklace Alura gave her all those years ago, that final night when Kara was forced to flee the palace.

The pendant with the sigil of the House of El glints slightly in the firelight.

"This was my Mother's. She gave it to me the night she died. It was given to her by my Father years ago on their Bonding Ceremony. Do you remember what that is?"

"Yes, of course. You told me that was a Kryptonian wedding. A sacred union." 

Kara nods, swallowing thickly. "Yes. I-I want you to have it."

Lena's mouth drops and she seems to stop breathing. When she collects herself. "Oh, Kara... I-I couldn't take something so precious away from you."

Kara shakes her head. "I'm giving it to you. You saved us, Lena. You made the cure for Kryptonite. You risked everything to bring it here."

"I had to. I betrayed you. My brother --"

"Is not you. You didn’t betray me. He betrayed you. He betrayed all of us. You suffered the most for it, but you still righted his wrongs."

"It's what any decent person would have done."

Kara shakes her head, smiling softly at Lena, her azure eyes brilliant in the firelight. "You truly don't see how amazing you are, do you? I wish you could see yourself as I see you. You.... you are everything, Lena."

Lena's breath hitches, and she seems unable to speak. Kara holds up Alura's necklace in offering, her hands trembling ever so slightly. "Will you accept this?"

Lena nods mutely, seemingly overcome. Kara moves closer, holding the thin silver chain up, and motions for her to turn around. Lena does, and Kara feels how still she is, like the surface of a lake, one moment away from rippling.

Lena moves her hair away from her neck, exposing the tender, vulnerable curve of her nape, and Kara is overcome with the desire, no the need, to touch the smooth skin revealed to her.

Kara clasps the necklace with trembling fingers and moves closer still, her eyes moving downward to where the El sigil rests just underneath Lena's collarbones. Lena is motionless. She doesn't even seem to breathe when Kara's fingers find the small crest where it rests just above Lena's breast. 

Of their own accord, Kara's fingers follow the chain upward, skimming ever so softly over Lena's skin. She doesn't realize how close she is until she feels Lena's soft breath against her cheek, shallow and tentative, as if she's unwilling to even breathe with Kara this close.

Kara starts to pull away, afraid that she's overstepped, but Lena exhales, her breath warming Kara's lips. “Please.”

Kara's mouth parts, and she is rendered helpless. She presses their lips together, softly at first. Warmth suffuses her whole body with that one small action, as if her whole being is rejoicing at the contact. 

It feels so.... right. 

 As if coming home at the end of their long journey.

Kara presses forward, her fingers finding Lena's jaw and tilting her closer. Lena complies, her neck arching to find Kara, to press deeper. Kara urges her lips to part, and Lena accepts her with a small moan that sets her nerves on fire.

She was right. She will never be satisfied. 

Not now that she knows the taste of Lena. 

"Stay with me," Kara murmurs the words into the heated air between them. She can feel her lips trembling. She can’t bear it. "Please?"

Lena's eyes open, and in the brilliant jade-green of them, Kara can see her whole future. "Always."

________________

By SorrowsFlower

FUCKING HELL I FINALLY FINISHED THIS!!! I have not slept in 36 hours for this shit!!!

What made decide to write it into a long-ass fic instead of the AU format I had it in, I will never know. If you made it this far, I love you.

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone -Chapter 26

Title: Preparations

Warning:  it’s filler.  I figured we needed some cute daddy Tyler. lol

Tagging:  @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @alievans007​, @miss-smutty​, @tragiclyhip​

“When you met mumma, you guys were working together, right?”

Addie poses the question as she sits atop the kitchen island; legs swinging back and forth as they dangle over the edge, the heels of silver and gold glitter infused jelly sandals lightly thumping against the wood. She insisted on bringing one of her favourite pairs of shoes from home; arguing that she didn’t care that they were ‘out of season’ and that she would wear what she wants, when she wants, and no one could tell her otherwise. In the end they’d gone perfectly with the new ‘Christmas’ dress she’d picked out Bloomingdales; a vibrant yellow concoction with capped sleeves embellished with strips of lace, a sash around the waist that ties in an enormous bow at the back, and an elaborate tulle skirt several layers thick that shimmers in the light. Forgoing all the burgundy, emerald green, and red dresses that had lined the regular priced racks in favour of an outfit from the leftover and highly discounted summer section. It was a hill Esme hadn't been willing to die on; preferring that Addie showcase both her independence in choosing her own outfit, and being proud of her personal style and preferences. And it suits her; as bright and adorable as her personality with just enough ‘no fucks given’ sprinkled on for good measure.

While tiny and seemingly fragile, she can be extremely assertive and adverse to any form of compromise; tenacious to a fault and digging her heels in and sticking to her guns when she feels she’s one hundred right about her stance. Even if there’s mountains of proof to show that she is, in fact, completely wrong. Someone so stubborn and feisty lingering inside that cute, wee package; able to hold her own while out playing with her older siblings and not afraid to get a bloody nose or a fat lip or a black eye. And not deterred in the slightest when she DOES get injured; right back to what she was doing only hours after getting stitches or a cast removed. Not shying away from climbing trees or splashing in mud puddles or helping muck out the goats stalls while wearing clunky rubber boots paired with a Disney princess dress. Very much like her older sister had been at that age; enjoying being physical and active and playing sports and rough housing one minute, then showcasing her more ‘girly side’ the next. Loving trips to the salon with mummy for manis and pedis; enjoying picking her own shade of polish and then getting to sip orange juice from a champagne glass while getting a facial and her hair trimmed. Collecting dolls along with various rocks and shells and beach glass. Superhero figures taking up residence on her bedroom shelves right alongside stuffies of her favourite animals -koalas, sloths, and kangaroos currently at the top of the list- and snow globes from different parts of the world. Her closet filled with not only frilly dresses and sparkly leggings and colourful sweaters emblazoned with unicorns and french bulldogs and flamingos, but old hand me downs from her brothers; ripped and faded jeans and tattered t-shirts and board shorts.

“Right,” Tyler confirms, as he tends to running a brush through her waist length hair; damp from misting it down with a spray bottle in order to easier part it into sections.

It’s a far cry from his old life; his beaten and busted up hands with their multitude of scars and calluses once used to being soaked in blood and caked with dirt. Large and weathered with misshapen knuckles, they’d long ago gotten accustomed to hard, manual labour and the brutality that he’d had to inflict on others; fists that pummelled bodies and faces and fingers that pulled triggers and wrapped around throats and choked the life out of combatants. And while they still get caked in mud from working around the house and they’re still entrusted to load magazines and are capable of taking a gun apart in thirteen seconds flat, they’ve morphed into other uses. Beginning with diapering babies and tending to the impossibly tiny snaps on jumpers, buttons on little sweaters, and zippers on sleepers. Moving on to tying kid sized shoe laces and cleaning and patching up skinned knees and elbows. Advancing to far more difficult hair styling techniques than the simple ponytails he’d began affixing on Millie when she was a toddler; various styles of braids adorned with ribbons, and snapping barrettes and clamping clips into place.

Being a girl dad is unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. The six short years -despite the little time he’d actually been home- he’d spent with Austin had prepared him for raising boys. His son, when healthy, had been extremely active and fearless and full of curiosity and energy; getting as messy and as dirty as possible and loving every second of it. Obsessed with superheroes and sports and always clad in clothing that displayed his favourites; football jerseys and baseball caps and sweats emblazoned with Superman or Batman logos. He had been terrified twelve years ago when the news had come in that Millie was in fact going to be a girl; not only envisioning frilly dresses and a closet full of pink and those ridiculous headbands parents insist on putting on their infants, but thinking back to his own treatment of women. The days when he’d used them for nothing more than sex; random strangers picked up in bars or that he’d meet on the street in whatever city a job sent him to. A failed marriage; putting more of a priority on the military than he did on treating his wife properly. And all he could think about was how having a daughter was somehow a punishment for the bad shit he’d done. A little girl that he’d have to protect from guys like him.

It was hard to get used to; big fingers having to master putting in tiny earrings and tending to impossibly small zippers and buttons , getting comfortable with the amount of pink and purple in their rooms and closets. Eventually graduating into attending tea parties and playing with Barbies and helping make crafts; getting used to paint on his palms and between his fingers and glitter stuck under his nails and in his hair and beard. Determined to be a hands-on father even if its activities are way outside of his comfort zone; gymnastic meets and dance recitals as opposed to lacrosse matches and football games. Being a girl dad isn’t for the weak; having to worry about your little girls’ hearts being broken and if the guys they pick will treat them right and if they themselves will make smart and responsible choices as teenagers. And the hormones; the up and down emotions and the drastic switch from bitchy to overly sensitive. Having a wife go through it once a month is enough. never mind the thought of three other girls. The worry of how he’ll handle not only the emergence of puberty, but if all four female ‘clocks’ decide to sync up. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to handle THAT; all the women in his life going through the cramps and the moodiness and the demands to be coddled and babied one minute and left the fuck alone the next.

“Does that mean mummy beat up and killed bad guys too?”

“No. She never did any of that stuff. That was my job, not hers.”

“What did she do?”

“She tracked down the bad guys. And where they were doing mean things to good people. Then she told me...or guys like me...where they were so we could go and take care of things.”

“So you could go and kill them?”

“You don’t always have to kill people. Sometimes it’s enough to just rough them up a bit.”

“And other times they fight back and try to hurt you and you have to hurt them first?”

“Pretty much.”

“Have you killed a lot of people?”

“Not that many," he lies. It's actually a staggering amount; the death toll -from his hand alone- in Dhaka putting the count well over three hundred.

“How many is ‘not that many'?’”

“I don’t know, Peanut. I’ve never kept track.”

“But you’ve helped more people than you’ve hurt. That’s what mummy said when I asked if it was true. If Tyler was lying when he told me you kill people for a living.”

“That’s a while ago. That you asked mummy that.”

“I was three. That’s a whole two years ago. But sometimes I think about it. Especially when you go away. I think about you having to kill people.”

“And what do you think WHEN you think about that? About what I sometimes have to do?”

“I dunno know,” Addie shrugs, and then lifts the spray bottle clutched in both hands and holds it towards her face; giggling when she pulls the trigger and catches some of the mist in her mouth.

“Does it bother you? When you think about it? That I’ve killed people? That sometimes I still have to?”

“Why would it bother me?”

“Kind of a hard thing to hear, don’t you think? That daddy has to do stuff like that?”

“It’s your job. It’s what you do. You have to hurt people to save other people. And sometimes, if they try and hurt you first, you have to kill them. Because if you didn’t, they might kill you and then you never come home and we never get to see you again. It’s not THAT hard to hear. I’d rather you kill someone and come home than never see you again.”

“You know,” he plucks the spray bottle from her hands and dampens a section of hair. “You’re pretty smart for only five.”

“Smart like mummy.”

He leans in to press a kiss to her cheek. “Cute like her too.”

“Are you going to get in trouble? For killing people?”

“Who would I get in trouble with?”

“God. Isn’t that one of the things we’re not supposed to do? Kill people?”

“How do you know about that? We don’t talk about that stuff at home.”

“I hear things. At school. Some of the older kids talking. Are you? Going to get in trouble? For killing people?”

“Probably,” he admits. “I’m sure I’ll face some kind of judgement for it. When my time comes.”

“But wouldn’t it be okay ‘cause you only kill bad people? That were hurting good people? Wouldn’t that be allowed? And if you had to kill someone so you could come home to us, wouldn’t that be okay too?”

“I don’t know,” he snags a yellow cloth ribbon off the island and begins braiding a section of hair around it. “I’ve never thought that far ahead about things.”

“It would suck if you got in trouble for helping people. That wouldn’t be fair at all. If you got sent to hell for doing stuff like that. I mean, you were doing something GOOD. You weren’t doing something bad. You HAD to kill evil people to help good people. And to make sure you come home to mummy and us kids. I can’t see you getting in trouble for something like THAT.”

“Doesn’t make much sense to me either. But not a lot does anymore.”

“I’ll be really mad if you get in trouble and sent somewhere different than me. I don’t want us to be in two separate places. I want us to be together. All of us. You and mummy and all us kids. I don’t want us to all be separated. Well, maybe Millie could be. Because she’s mean to me. All the time.”

“Millie is going through some stuff. She’s going to be a teenager soon. A lot of drama leading up to THAT.”

“She says I’m annoying. That she used to really like me when I was a baby and couldn’t do anything. But now I can do lots of stuff and I can talk and she says that pisses her off. That I’m a bratty little sister.”

“You are NOT bratty.”

“Right? That’s what I said. She’s bratty if anything. Am I annoying, daddy? Don’t lie. You can tell me the truth.”

“You are not annoying. If anyone is annoying, it’s Millie.”

“I said THAT too! But she’s mean. She even threatened to cut my hair off. Shave it. Because I couldn’t find my brush and I borrowed hers and she didn’t like that. So you know what I did? While you were gone?”

“What did you do?”

“I took the tops off two Oreo cookies and I ate the middle and then I put in mayonnaise and I put the tops back on and gave them to Millie. I told her I was being a good little sister and bringing her a snack. And she put a whole one in her mouth! She almost puked!”

He can’t help but chuckle. “You actually did that?”

“Yup. It was awesome. I laughed so hard, I almost peed! But then she started chasing me around the house threatening to kill me. Mummy was screaming at her to lighten up, that it was just a joke. And then she told mummy to shut up and Tyler got mad. REALLY mad. He tackled Millie and grabbed her by the hair and pushed her face into the carpet. Then he put her in a figure four leg lock and made her cry.”

“Millie told your mom to shut up?”

“Oooops…” Addie tilts her head back to look at him, a sheepish smile curving her lips. “....I wasn’t supposed to tell you that part.”

“Who told you not to tell me? Millie?”

The five year old shakes her head.

“TJ?”

Another shake, followed by a tiny “No.”

“Addie…”

“It was mummy! She said not to tell you because you’d get pissed off and you didn’t need to. Because she took care of it right when it happened. Well, Tyler did. He was really, really, REALLY mad. She learned her lesson. I’m sure of it. He made her cry. Lots.”

“Did that happen a lot? Millie getting mouthy with your mom?”

“Not really.”

He stares pointedly down at her.

“A few times,” she reluctantly admits. “She said some things that were really mean. To mummy. And she said the F word once, too. Mixed with the B word.”

“She said that ? To your mom?”

Addie chews nervously on her bottom lip. “Yeah, she called her an f-ing B word.”

“What did mummy do?”

“She didn’t get a chance to do anything. Desi freaked out. And he’s really big and he can be really scary when he wants. Like you. Desi told her that she should never, ever talk to her mum like that. And that you’d be really mad if you found out. And that she’d rather deal with him than you. Which is true. Desi might be bigger than you, but you’re definitely tougher. I mean, he doesn’t kill people for a living. You do.”

“Things were pretty bad, huh? While I was gone.”

“A little. Millie went off the reservation. Big time. She’s lucky she’s even breathing. ‘Cause Tyler was ready to kill her. And I don’t blame him. You’re mad, aren’t you. Are you mad, daddy?”

“A bit.”

“You know how I can tell? That you’re mad? Your neck moves. Right here,” she reaches up to press to fingertips against the side of his throat. “Where the bad guy shot you a long time ago.”

“How did you know about that?”

“Mummy told me. I asked her how you got that scar. She said that a long time ago, her and Ovi were in trouble and you had to get them out of a really bad place. And then you made sure they were safe and sound, but a bad guy shot you. In the neck. And that’s why you have the scar there.”

“Did that scare you? Hearing that?”

“A little, I guess. I mean, you could have died, right?”

“I could have, yeah.”

“And then you and mummy never would have gotten married. And had kids. Millie would be the only one to exist. None of us would. So yeah, that part scared me a bit; that the bad guy could have killed and none of us ever would have been born. Did you kill him?”

“Eventually.”

“Mummy said she stayed with you. After it happened. And that she went back to Australia with you and that’s how she ended up there. It’s where you guys got married. And had Millie and me and Kota and Brookie. That we were the ones born there. So we’re REAL Australians, like you. Everyone else is American.”

“Everyone else WAS American. You’re all Australian now.”

“How does that work?”

“A lot of papers you have to fill out. To become a citizen. But you all are. Mummy and I made sure of it.”

“Is mummy an Australian too?”

“By marriage, yeah.”

“It’s a good thing she married you. You’re a lucky guy, daddy. That someone like mummy fell in love with you.”

“I am,” he confirms. “Very lucky. She’s a pretty good mummy, huh?”

“She’s the best mummy EVER. If we could pick our mummies, I’d pick her. Because she’s nice and she gives good cuddles and kisses and she tells the best silly jokes. And she’s super smart and really cute too. And little! Like me!”

“That’s where you get from. Being so cute and wee. You’re just like your mumma.”

Her eyes sparkle as she smiles broadly up at him; the corners and the bridge of her nose crinkle. “And that’s a good thing, yeah?”

“A very good thing,” Dropping a kiss on her forehead, he brushes the tip of his nose against hers; smiling at the way she throws her head back and giggles.

He’s seen her mother do that exact movement and expression a number of times; excitement while on the rides at Disney World with the kids, when she’s had one too many glasses of wine and even his terrible ‘dad jokes’ are suddenly hilarious, when they’ve been on one of their ‘mommy and daddy’ vacations and she’s gotten up the guts to try something new and exciting; emboldened by his encouragement and forever feeling safe and secure as long as he’s by her side. So much of Esme in the tiny little girl in front of him; tenacious and ferociously intelligent and loving deeply and fearlessly. Knowing the darkness and the horrors that exist in the world but not allowing herself to be tarnished by it; always finding ways to smile and laugh and find the beauty in every day.

“What do you think mummy would have done if she didn’t do the job she did?” Addie inquires, when she finally drops her head back down and he’s able to return to tending her hair.

“I don’t know. Teach? Be a nurse? Maybe a doctor?”

“How would you have met her? If she didn’t do her old job?”

“Maybe I would have met her on the beach. In Australia. Maybe she would have come there on a vacation.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you would have gone to where she used to live. In Chicago.”

“She used to live in Colorado. That’s where she was born and where she grew up. Chicago is a totally different place.”

“She used to live by the mountains. When I was in her tummy, you guys lived on a hobby farm. And you had goats and chickens. Mummy says we still own that house.”

“Yup, we do. We rent it out.”

“Can we go there one day? I’d like to see it. I’d like to see where you guys were living when I was in mummy’s belly. Is that where I was made?”

“We’re pretty sure that’s where it happened. Not many other places it could have been.”

“Maybe we can go and visit. And I can see where I was made. That would be fun. I want to see the mountains.”

“Maybe one day.” He finishes up the first braided pigtail, securing it with an impossibly small elastic before turning his attention to the other section of hair.

“If you met mummy a different way, would you have still liked her? Would you have still fallen in love with her?”

“Yup. Why wouldn’t have I? She still would have been mummy. She still would have been the same person. Still would have been the most beautiful girl ever.”

“Do you think she still would have fallen in love with you?”

“I sure as hell hope so. Would sure suck if she didn’t. Your mumma is pretty special, Peanut. She’s the love of my life. Took me until I was thirty five to meet her.”

“You were married before, though. To Austin's mom. You didn’t love her?”

“I did. But not in the way I love your mum. Your mum? That’s who I want to spend the rest of my life with. Grow really, really, REALLY old with. It’s a whole other kind of love. And you know what? It’s not easy to explain. You just know what you feel.”

“Imagine if things were opposite? If you went to Colorado and met mummy instead of her meeting you in Australia and working with you? And then you would have stayed there; where the snow and the mountains are instead of the beach and the ocean. How come you moved? Why didn’t you guys stay? Where the mountains are?”

“Things changed. We weren’t happy there anymore. We needed to get away. Go back to the place where we were the happiest.”

“In Australia?”

“Yup.”

“That’s where I’m happiest too. I love it there. I love how warm it is; the sun and the sand and the water. I like the sound it makes; listening to it when I’m trying to fall asleep. And I like how the beach feels; between my toes and when I let it run through my fingers. And I love my room and my toys and my school and my friends and all the goats and our pigs and our chickens. And Charlie. I love him the most. I love making him peanut butter sandwiches. I’d miss him the most. If we had to leave. We won’t have to leave will we, daddy?”

“I don’t see why we would have to.”

“I don’t ever want to leave Australia. It’s perfect there. It’s where I was born. And where you were born too. We have that in common. We were BOTH born there.”

“Yeah…” he grins, and presses a kiss to the back of her head. “...we were.”

“I mean, we have other stuff in common too. Because you’re my dad and that means you helped make me so that means half of me is half of you. The other half is from mummy. And we both love surfing. And animals. And Vegemite. I LOVE Vegemite. It’s sooooo good.”

“Speaking of Vegemite, was it you that left the Vegemite and Nutella sandwich for Santa?”

Addie giggles. “Maybe…”

“Why would you ever put the two of those together?”

“Tyler made it for his school lunch once and he let me try a bit and it was really good! So I thought Santa might like to try it. Part American, part Australian.”

“You know, that’s pretty genius. And it worked. I tried a bit and it wasn’t bad.”

“Right?! You wouldn’t think it would work, but it does. Somehow. Kind of like you and mummy.”

“What’s THAT supposed to mean?”

“You and mummy are so different. You’re really tall and big and she’s really short and small. Like, you know how mummy is a morning person? She’s always really cheerful and smiley? And you’re not? You’re moody and miserable. A total grump face! And you don’t like to talk until you’ve had your first coffee. With three shots of espresso in it.”

“You notice all that stuff?”

“I notice everything. Mummy says I’m very observant. And that I have really good instincts. Like you. She says ‘cause my tummy tells me if something is right or wrong. And yours does too. You know how else you and mummy are different?”

“How?”

“Mummy talks to everyone! She’s very talky talky. A chatterbox.”

“Geez,” Tyler grins, and tugs playfully at the completed pigtail. “I wonder who ELSE is a chatterbox?”

“She’s a social butterfly. She makes friends everywhere she goes. People like her. Because she’s so bubbly and cute and she makes peoples hearts feel warm because she’s so nice to them. You’re more serious. You don’t talk a lot. At least not to people you don’t know. People are scared of you sometimes. Because how big you are and because you got all the drawings on you and the scars and stuff. They think you’re mean. ‘Cause of all that.”

“And what do you think?”

“I think you’re just daddy. I KNOW you’re not mean. I KNOW you’re a nice guy. I KNOW you give awesome hugs; your arms are big but they feel nice and they wrap all the way around me! If people really paid attention, they’d see that you’re nice. You have soft eyes. They’re blue and they’re pretty and they’re kind. Especially when you smile and they go all crinkly. If people really gave you a chance, they’d see you’re not scary at all. You’re only like that if you HAVE to be. If bad people are near mummy or us kids.”

“Are you ever scared of me?” It’s a recurring thought; if his children ever pick up on the worry and the tension and the fear that comes with his issues. It’s a feat some days; forcing himself out of bed and putting one foot in front of the other. Wanting nothing more than to stay under the covers and surrender to the exhaustion that comes with doing battle with his own mind every day. But his family is his number one priority, whether it’s a good day or a horrible one. And he’ll ‘fake it until he makes it’ as long as his children and his wife know that they’re loved; provided and cared for and made to feel safe and protected.

“Why would I be? Why would I be scared of my daddy?”

“Well, you know what I do for a living. You know what I’ve had to do to people. Does that scare you?”

“Nope. Because that’s just your job. It’s not who you are. When you come home, you’re just daddy. You take us bike riding and hiking and swimming and surfing. And you help us find rocks and shells and you let me sit on your shoulders when we walk on the beach or go into town. And we take naps. On the hammock. I love our naps on the hammock.”

He smiles. “So do I.”

“Sometimes I get a little worried. When you get upset. Or you and mummy argue. I don’t like when you guys argue. I always worry that you’ll hate each other. That you’ll get a divorce. And then you won’t live with us. It makes me sad when I think about that.”

“You don’t need to be sad, Peanut. That’s never going to happen. I’m never going to go and live somewhere else. I’m going to stay right where I am; with you guys and your mumma. And just because we argue? That doesn’t mean we’re going to hate each other. I could NEVER hate your mum. And I’m pretty sure she’d say the same thing about me. We love each other. Very much. Divorce is NOT something you need to think about. But do I ever scare you? Have I ever?”

“I don’t have a reason to be scared of you. Because you love me. You’d never hurt me. I never worry about that. Not even when you yell and your voice gets REALLY loud. I know you’d never do anything mean to me. Just to bad people. And I’m not a person. I’m a GOOD person.”

“You definitely are. You’re a VERY good person. An amazing little person.”

She smiles. “Like mummy.”

“Just like her. More than even I ever realized.”

******

“Addie…” TJ singsongs as he saunters into the kitchen, both hands tucked behind his back. “...what are you doing?”

“Tyler!” She cheerfully greets, and excitedly waves to him with both hands. Her entire face lighting up at the sight of her second favourite male in the house

She’s become extremely close to her oldest brother during her five years on earth; idolizing him and turning to him for help and comfort when daddy is either caught up with one of the other kids, tending to work related matters, or out of the house -and sometimes even the country- all together. And TJ dotes on her in return. Spoiling her and babying her ever since she was an infant and he was always more than willing to help change her diapers and give her feedings. In awe of how tiny she was and how she’d look up at him with so much adoration. He’s the quintessential older brother; patient and loving and ready to kick anyone’s ass that dares messes with her.

“Look at my dress! It’s the one I picked out when I went shopping for mommy. That I kept a secret. Isn’t it awesome?”

“Awesome just like you. It’s really pretty, Ads. Your favourite colour too!”

“Yup! Mummy bought it for me. She said it’s perfect for me. For my personality. It reminds me of Belle’s dress. From Beauty and the Beast.”

“Looks a little like it, I guess. But you know what? It’s even prettier. And you’re more beautiful than Belle. WAY more beautiful.”

“Really?” she gasps, and a noticeable blush creeps into her cheeks, spreading all the way to the tips of her ears. “You really think so?”

“I REALLY think so. Belle has nothing on you. You’re the prettiest princess EVER. Way prettier than ANY of them.”

“Oh goodness!” She clamps both hands over her mouth in embarrassment, then giggles into them. “Like mumma? Just as pretty as her? Mumma is the prettiest EVER.”

“Just a smaller version of her.” TJ leans in close and presses the tip of his nose against hers. “Guess what I have? What you forgot in my room?”

“Adeline!” she cries, when he reveals the item he’d been keeping behind his back. And she snags the doll from him and showers its head and face with kisses as she clutches it tightly to her chest. “Adeline! I’m sorry I forgot you! I didn’t mean to!”

“I kept her safe for you,” TJ says. “So Declan wouldn’t grab her. You know how he likes to get a hold of dolls and torture them. I didn’t want him getting her. She’s way too pretty and I know how much you love her.”

“He’s mean to my dolls! He’s always taking their heads off and putting their arms where their legs should be and crazy shit like that.”

“Hey,” Tyler frowns, and tugs on the half braided pigtail. “What did I say?”

“No bad language. Especially on Christmas Day. I can’t help it though; sometimes it just slips out. If you didn’t swear so much around us kids…”

“That’s it. Throw me under the bus.”

“You swear A LOT, daddy. Especially in the car. When other people don’t drive fast enough or use their blinkers. If mummy knew exactly how much you DO swear around us, she’d be mad. REALLY mad.”

“Your mum has a worse mouth than I do.”

“As if!” Addie scoffs, and he can’t help but smile; easily hearing Esme’s voice and picturing the expression on her face; the corner up her mouth and her nose scrunched up in disgust, eyes slightly narrowed. “Thank you, Tyler!” She curls an arm around her brother’s neck, squeezing as tight as she can. “You’re the best! Thank you for keeping her safe from the Ginger. You’re the best brother EVER! I only trust you with her. And daddy. That’s it. You guys are big and strong and will keep her safe no matter what.”

“What the hell are you wearing?” He addresses his son as the latter moves to the fridge, pausing in the braiding of Addie’s hair to survey TJ’s wardrobe a pair of ill fitting and impossibly baggy jeans, an enormous untucked dress shirt with its sleeves rolled to his elbows, and a loose pink, purple, and grey striped tie.

“Your pants. And one of your shirts.” TJ reaches into the fridge and grabs a carton of chocolate milk and a jug of white. Closing the door with his hip and carrying them to the counter by the sink; pouring a mix of both into a plastic tumblr retrieved from the dish rack and then snagging two straws from the cupboard. “Mum told me to. She said none of my clothes were good enough for Christmas dinner. All my jeans have holes in them and all t-shirts have to do with surfing. We’ve never had to dress up for Christmas dinner before. Why do we have to start now?”

“Your mum’s trying to make things perfect. To avoid drama. With your grandmother.”

“Too late. Grandma brings drama with her. And drops it on everyone else.” He drags a bar stool across the floor and places it in front of his little sister. “Here Ads,” he holds the cup in front of her. “A yellow straw just for you. So you don’t have to share my germs. Let me hold it; so you don’t spill anything on your dress.”

Giving a delighted squeal and a smile of appreciation, she takes a pull from the straw. “I think you look handsome, Tyler. You’re growing up. You’re going to be as big as daddy soon.”

“It’s going to be a while before I’m THAT big. But I’m going to work on it. As soon as I’m allowed, I’m going to lift heavy too and put on ALL kinds of muscle.”

“Then you can go after bad people too. And beat them up and kill them when you have to.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Tyler suggests. “Something tells me mummy might have an issue with that.”

“Why doesn’t mum just tell grandma to get lost?” TJ inquires. “It’s not like they like each other. They never have. They’ve always fought. I remember how they’d get into it at Christmas. When we were still living in Colorado. Grandma would get drunk and she’d pick fights with mum and mum would fight back and cry and then you’d go off on grandma. Is that going to happen this year? ‘Cause it’s been nice and quiet at Christmas. Do we HAVE to listen to grandma's shit?”

“What did I just tell your sister? About the language?”

“She’s five, but she’s right. It IS hard to stop and it does just come out. But do we, dad? Do we really have to put up with her?”

“It’s one night. I think you can manage. If I can grin and bear it, so can you. Suck it up.”

“If she starts in on mum about ANYTHING, I’m going to lose it. That’s my mum. No one talks to my mum like that. I almost taught Jacobi a lesson. For calling mum cute and wanting to ask her out. I’ll teach grandma a lesson too. I’m not afraid of her.”

“If anyone is going to teach her a lesson, it’s going to be me. You stay out of it. Your mum wouldn’t want you getting into it with her. You’re TEN.”

“Doesn’t matter how old I am. That’s MY mum. And no one is going to treat her bad. We’re supposed to protect her, remember? You and I.”

“You’re supposed to be a kid and stay that way as long as you can. I’M supposed to protect your mom. And I think I’ve been pretty damn good at it for the last twelve and a half years. And if your grandma starts? I’ll stop it. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Why does she hate you so much anyway? Is it still the same crap? How she’s pissed because you stole mum away from her family and moved her all the way to Australia? ‘Cause you got her pregnant before you married her?”

Addie scowls. “Who cares? Lots of people have babies and they aren’t married. And so what if mummy didn’t go back home and she stayed with daddy? She’s an adult. She can do what she wants. And she wanted to be with daddy. None of grandma’s business. I’mma tell her that too. If she starts saying mean things about daddy or mummy. I’mma tell her what for.”

“You’re not going to do a thing,” Tyler informs her. “You’re going to leave all the telling off to me, got it?”

“I don’t like her,” Addie says. “She’s not a nice person. She has a mean smile. And her eyes are empty. They don’t sparkle or anything like that. Are you sure that’s mummy’s mummy? Because when mummy smiles, her eyes sparkle. She LOOKS happy. Grandma? She just looks mean.”

“No one likes her,” TJ grumbles. “Best thing we ever did was get away from her. But IS that why, dad? Is that really why she doesn’t like you? Because she still thinks you stole mum and took her all the way to Australia?”

“It’s a few things.”

“I bet it’s the job too. I bet she really has a problem with THAT.”

“Again…” Addie huffs dramatically. “...who cares? So what if daddy kills people? They’re BAD. They deserve it. He helps good people and sometimes when he’s helping them, he has to kill the bad guys. I don’t see a problem with that. If they try and hurt him or kill him, he HAS to kill them first. So he can come home. To us. And mummy. It only makes sense.”

“If Ads can get it, ANYONE can,” TJ says. “She’s only five. What’s grandma? A hundred? If a five year old can get it…”

“Daddy makes the world a better place because he gets rid of the bad people,” Addie continues, as she takes another sip of the drink her brother offers her. “If we had less bad people, everything would be great. There’d be less wars and less people getting hurt and everyone would love one another and be happy. Daddy’s doing a good thing. By sticking up for people. Like you do. At school. You beat up the bullies when you have to. Remember the older kid that tripped me and shoved my face in the mud? Remember him? He’s in grade eight AND you kicked the crap out of me. Because he picked on me.”

“You’re my sister. It’s my job to protect you.”

“And remember that other guy? On the playground by mummy’s store? The one that pulled my hair and told me I was adopted because I’m small and I don’t look like any of you guys. You freaked out on him and made him apologize and scared him away. He’ll cross the street now if he sees you coming.”

“You can’t let bad people get away with doing bad things,” TJ reasons. “If you don’t stop them, they’ll just keep doing bad stuff.”

“Exactly! So it’s a good thing that daddy goes after the bad guys. Grandma needs to learn. And she needs to learn TODAY. You should tell her, Tyler. You should tell her off. You’re not scared of anyone.”

“Not being scared of anyone or anything is not always a good thing,” Tyler informs her. “If you’re not scared, you don’t take a situation or people seriously. That’s when you get hurt. And you know what? No matter how big of a bad ass you think you are? There’s always a bigger one out there somewhere. Believe me. I’ve learned THAT lesson the hard way.”

“The guy who shot you just got a lucky one in,” TJ reasons. “You were already hurt. You weren’t one hundred percent. Some guy had already shot you, hadn’t he? A sniper?”

“What’s a sniper?” Addie inquires. “Is it like Swipper on Dora? Something like him?”

“We don’t need to talk about that,” Tyler says. “You don’t need to know that stuff. Not until you’re older. WAY older.”

“A sniper’s a guy that hides somewhere and shoots you,” TJ replies. “Somewhere where no one sees him. It’s why they’re so dangerous. You don’t even know where they are. They just shoot you. And they kill you before you even know what happened.”

“But daddy didn’t get killed. If a sniper shot daddy, shouldn’t he be dead?”

Combing his hand through her bangs, Tyler tips his daughter’s head back. “What did I just say? About you not needing to know about this stuff?”

“I’m curious now. Tyler said they hide and shoot people and kill them. How come you didn’t die? If a sniper shot you?”

“I guess he didn’t manage to get a good shot in.”

“It was the other guy that almost killed him,” TJ says, and takes a sip of the concoction in his hand. “The one that got him in the neck. That’s when he almost died. Mum saved him.”

“How? How did mummy save daddy? Daddy…” she swivels around in her stool to face him. “...how did mummy save you? Did she shoot the bad guy back?”

“Mum stuck her fingers in his neck,” TJ says. “To stop the bleeding. Or he would have bled to death.”

Addie’s eyes widen. “She DID?”

“When you’re older, MAYBE I’ll tell you more more about it. But for now…” Tyler places his hands on her shoulders and gently turns her back around. “...you don’t need to know this stuff. And you…” he stares pointedly at his son. “...don’t talk about this around her. She doesn’t need to know about this. She’s a baby still.”

“I’m not a baby!” Addie objects. “I’m five! I can almost ride my bike without training wheels. Babies can’t do that.”

“Just don’t, alright?” He addresses TJ. “Don’t talk about this stuff around her. Because she’s going to repeat all of this and she’s going to repeat it to your mum and that won’t end well. For you OR me.”

“It happened though. I mean, it’s part of how you guys met and got together and ended up getting married and stuff. It’s your history. I don’t see why…”

“I said ENOUGH. No more. Not around her. Got it?” He’s on edge; the mere mention of Dhaka and the incidents on the bridge playing straight into the anxiety and the panic he’d felt the night before; when he’d woken up from the nightmare and been on the verge of losing control and had turned to the fentanyl for relief. And it scares him; how easy it had been to not only access the powerful med, but actually take it. He’d encountered no resistance or hesitation; remorse and guilt not setting in until the following morning when he’d woken up and it had been the first thing on his mind. It’s alarming how quick things can return; an addict’s mind and behaviour.

Nodding, TJ holds his hands up in surrender.

“You’re both going to be nice tonight,” he says, and finishes Addie’s final braid. “To grandma. Because your mum is already stressed out enough and we don’t need to make it worse for her. So if the best you can do is smile and nod, just do that. I’m not asking you to kiss her ass. I’m just asking you to be civil. Can you handle that?”

TJ nods.

“You?” He tugs on one of Addie’s pigtails. “Can you do that? Be civil?”

“Do I have to be near her? Or sit on her lap? ‘Cause I draw the line there.”

“You don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. Just don’t be a little asshole, alright?”

“Me? I’m Mary Freaking Sunshine, remember? That’s what Grandpa Koen calls me.”

“Well then live up to it and be nice to your grandmother. Smile until your face hurts, got it?”

“What do I get out of it?”

He smirks.

“Mummy says to always negotiate. Never settle for the first offer. Can I sleep in the big bed tonight? For being nice to grandma?”

“No.” Wrapping an arm around her waist, he lifts her off the stool; pressing a kiss to her cheek before setting her on the ground.

She turns to face him. Head cocked to the side and one hand clutching her doll, the other planted firmly on her hip. “Can I have ice cream for my bedtime snack?”

"Maybe."

“Maybe isn’t good enough.”

“You ARE just like your mom, aren’t you.”

“I’ll be nice if I can have ice cream for my bedtime snack and you snuggle with me and draw on my back for half an hour. And that’s after FOUR stories.”

“You're bossy, you know that? Two stories.”

“Three. That’s as low as I’ll go.”

“I will give you two stories, ice cream for your snack, and forty five minutes of snuggling and drawing on your back. Instead of half an hour. We got a deal?”

Her eyes narrow as she considers it; nibbling on her bottom lip and swishing her hips back and forth. “You’re good at this.”

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Peanut. I’ve dealt with tougher than you. What do you say?” He offers a hand. “Deal?”

“Deal!” she agrees, his hand easily swallowing hers as they shake on it.

Grinning, he runs a hand over the top of her head and then drops a kiss on her hair. “You really DO have a lot of your mum in you.”

“Great things come in small packages,” Addie reasons, standing on her tiptoes as he leans down and pecks her lips. “Thank you, daddy!” she chirps. “My hair looks beautiful. You always do it perfect.”

“Pretty hard not to when my subject is so cute. Good thing I married your mum, huh? So I could have a kid as cute as you?”

“You really are a lucky man!” she declares and then cheerfully skips out of the room.

“I hope grandma is on her best behaviour,” TJ says, as he finishes the drink in his hand and then slides off the stool and returns it to its place at the island. “Because if she DOES start on mum, it’s going to be a wild night. I really hope she watches her step.”

“My too, kiddo,” Tyler sighs, and reaches out to tousle his son’s hair. “Me too.”

[aperrywilliams]

For You, for Me and for Us (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif!)

Masterlist

———————

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer and Reader share their feelings in a very special occasion for their family.

Word Count: 2169.

Warnings: Just a reference of sex (not explicit). Pure fluff. I need some of this sometimes.

A/N: This one is short, I promise. I got some inspiration from the Goo Goo Dolls’ song “Boxes”. If you can, listen it while, before or after reading. Remember my friends: impressions, comments and any reaction are welcomed. Thanks for reading!

——————–

We'll have tiny boxes for memories

Open them up and we'll set them free

There'll be bad days and some hard times

But I'll keep your secrets, if you keep mine

You are the memory that won't ever lapse

When twenty-five years have suddenly passed

Wherever you take me, it's clear I will go

Your love's the one love that I need to know

——————–

It was a hot July night. The patio had a beautifully decoration: a lot of white flowers hanging from the windows and walls. There were ten tables settled around the dance floor. All the guests sited enjoying dinner. The background music was calm, perfect for the moment.

Spencer and I were sitting at the main table looking at the guests who were staring back at us with big smiles. Some even raising their wine glasses in celebration attitude to us.

"This night has been exhausting, don't you think?" I said to Spencer in a minute. He glanced at me with a nod.

“The day in general has been exhausting. My feet hurt and I miss my bed right now,” he replied with a pout.

"You shouldn't complain so much. I'm the one who is wearing heels tonight,” I growled as I moved my feet in circles motions remembering the discomfort I was feeling at the moment.

"The shoes I'm wearing aren't the definition of comfort either, so we could say I share your pain. Also this tux is less comfortable than I thought." His words were accompanied by a grimace.

"And we have a lot of night and dance ahead..." I added to make our torture more miserable.

"I think we could skip the dance, right?" Spencer suggested winking at me.

"Spencer, I know you don’t like to dance but, do you want to disappoint all the guests? such bad host!." I said teasing him.

“It’s a wedding. By definition the most important thing in a wedding should be the ceremony, not the dance,” he complained.

"It's a party anyway. And at parties there is dancing. And the hosts dance. Period.” I said in a severe tone.

“I don't know where you got that rule from, but I'm not going to argue with you about that now. Look over there!". He shook his head, pointing to one of the tables.

I turned around a bit to get better vision. I couldn't help but smile when I saw our daughter doing photos with her fiance - now her husband - and the guests of one of the tables.

"She looks so beautiful...". I said barely holding my breath. I was so thrilled to see her right now. I felt my eyes fill with tears of pure emotion.

"She is beautiful. And in that dress it reminds me so much of you when we got married,” added Spencer. In his eyes I could only see love and adoration for her.

"Have you seen her so happy before?". I asked him, taking his hand and squeezing it gently.

"I guess I can't compare this to the times she was a little girl and we ran around the house pursuing to each other or playing tickle war," Spencer replied with a sigh.

"You're right. They are different things”. I rested my head on his shoulder. At that demonstration of affection, Spencer began stroking one of my cheeks with his thumb.

“That were the times when she really needed us. Now for her we are disposable. Now we are just her annoying parents.” Spencer said in a melancholic tone and perhaps unaware that he had voiced his thoughts out loud.

"And where did that come from?" I asked raising my head to look him in the eye.

"Uhm?" He looked back at me confused. Indeed, he didn’t realize he had said the last thing out loud.

"Spencer Reid, about the last thing you said… why are you so annoyed?" I asked him.

"I’m not annoyed (Y/N). I’m jealous.” he confessed a little ashamed. I burst out laughing.

"Why are you jealous?, she won’t stop loving you because she is married now." I tried to explain to him.

"I know, but I won't be her favorite man in the world anymore..." Spencer said with a shrug. There I understood.

I don't know if it will be something that happens to all fathers. When I married Spencer my dad had the same concern. It seems true that when you're dad's little girl, it most difficult to them let you go.

Emi has always been Spencer's favorite. In addition to being the oldest of our three children - after Emi, came Theo and then Abby - she is the one who missed him the most when he was away from home, the one who loved the most his bedtime stories, the one who most insisted to him to go out to the park and play with her, the one who could be always running around him in the house while he was reading on the couch.

While she physically has few Spencer attributes - like his nose - she certainly inherited much of his intelligence and the love of learning new things and always be rambling about everything.

Given that, I'm not surprised that he's more concerned and vulnerable. I’m, too, but I can understand that their special bond makes this more difficult for Spencer right now.

"Don’t worry. You won’t stop being her favorite. But you’ll have to learn to share…”

"Only if you can assure me he'll make her really happy. If he ever hurts her in any way, I swear I’m capable of…”. Just imagining Emily suffering for something immediately awoke in him anger and despair. I guess that will never change.

“Calm down Reid. You seem crazy acting like this right now. Look, now they are at the BAU table.” I told him. I was trying to he would focus on something else and stop imagining things.

While he watched in that direction I could see a bright smile on my husband's face. Despite the years, the BAU were still part of our family. At least those who remain. Life and the time’s passing are unforgiving, no matter what we do to try to avoid it.

"Wow, long time since I saw JJ and Will. They seem to be less affected by the years than we are,” said Spencer.

"Speak for yourself, old man. I still feel like a 30 years old woman.” I said jokingly.

Looking at him his eyes clearly said 'you're kidding right?' I moved closer so I could whisper in his ear.

“Come on Spencer . It’s not so bad either. You still do a good job in bed. So don’t worry so much either.” I said with a playful smile. Spencer blushed. I can't believe I still have the ability to make him blush after all these years together. He tried to change the subject by alluding to the other guests at the table.

"Hank is equal to Morgan when we started at BAU. He has exactly the same features and posture. And Morgan looks like he's hopefully 50 years old. The bastard aged like wine." I couldn't help but laugh at the comment.

“The gym years seem to be helping after all. We should have trained more with him when we worked together,” I said. Spencer nodded at my statement.

"I wish Prentiss was here," Spencer said at one point.

"Me too. I'm sure Emi misses her too.” I added, squeezing his hand gently.

Prentiss was the godmother of our Emily. Although Spencer had been JJ's friend for long before, with Prentiss the friendship was developed over the years and became very strong and lasting. Just like my friendship with her. I owe a lot to Prentiss, among other things, having come to work at the BAU. For all that and how much she supported us during our relationship, we decided to give her name to our first daughter. Unfortunately, Prentiss had passed away less than a year ago, positioning herself in the BAU's 'remembered' club, along with Rossi and Hotch.

All these losses reminded us that the years do not pass in vain, but that the love for them does not cease even though the time is implacable. They will always be part of our family and our hearts.

"What are you thinking about?" Spencer asked me after noticing I was silent looking at our daughter doing photos with the rest of the guests.

"About we made such beautiful children." I replied laughing. The truth was I didn’t want to reveal my true thoughts of that moment. But I have never been able to hide those things from Spencer, he always realizes when I’m putting something away. Sometimes he pushes me to say it, other times he lets me keep my little secret thoughts.

"I know. But that is not what you are thinking." This time he was going to pressure me to tell him. After a sigh I started to speak.

"It's just... I don't know. Sometimes it seems so surreal that we have been able to stay together all these years and manage to start a family on our own. After all the things we've been through… I don't know, did you ever have doubts about that?” I asked him.

Spencer released my hand to settle on the edge of the chair so he could look me straight in the face. He took my cheeks in his hands to make sure I made eye contact with him.

“(Y/N), this is an accomplishment of both of us. And despite of our ups and downs I'll never regret having bet on us. You’re and will continue to be the love of my life. You gave me some wonderful children and you make me immensely happy. And for every day that passes, the love and adoration I feel for you does not decreases in the least”. He sealed his words with a deep kiss, full of love, which I reciprocated with equal intensity. When we pulled away we both smiled.

"Jeez Spencer. I don't know how you manage to say all those things and make me cry.” I said trying to hold back tears that started to roll down my cheeks. He began to dry my tears with his thumbs. I could see that he was equally touched, with watery eyes, also leaking a few tears.

"Now we are old grumpy and crybaby," he said with a huff. I could only nod. The age and emotions of that day had us very sensitive. I rested my head on his shoulder again, watching the photo tour in the guest tables.

"When we got married, did you think we were going to be like this now?" I asked him suddenly.

"Maybe only in dreams," he replied.

“It's been a little over 25 years since that day." I said with a sigh. He looked at me with those loving eyes that captured me from almost the first day.

"And not a day of these 25 years have I doubted us" boasted the very cheeky.

"Don't lie, Reid. We haven't had a dream marriage, either.” A light blow to his forearm was what he received for such audacity.

“I know baby, but what effect do a couple of days have on the 9165 days we been married? In my opinion they do not statistically affect the result” he defended himself laughing.

"Such nerd! shut up and kiss me," I replied, before taking his tie and pulling him closer to give him another kiss.

"I love you too (Y/N)" he told me when we pulled away.

Our intimate moment was broken when Emily approached the table and stared at us with her hands resting on her waist.

“I'm sorry to interrupt you lovebirds, but it's time for the waltz . Are you ready dad?” Emily asked.

"We were just talking about it with your dad. How anxious he was to dance tonight.” I said teasing Spencer. Emily started to laugh. She knew as much as I did that Reid almost hated to dance in public. Spencer gave me a disapproving look as he got up from the chair.

"I’m ready if you are, Emi." Spencer answered as he took our daughter's arm.

"Perfect!. Mom, come on!. You have to dance too!”

"I will baby. Let me finish my glass of wine. In the meantime, try not to let your dad stumble on the dance floor,” I said, laughing. Spencer just shook his head without even looking back at me.

I saw them walking arm in arm to the dance floor. Sure I'd join them, but I wanted to look at both of them first. It was one of those moments that I wanted to witness and treasure in my memory and my heart by my own. The love of my life with our first fruit of love. A journey that started a new story this day, a new story for Emily, for Spencer, for me... for us.

——————–

[buckybarnesdollface]

Thought It’d Be Harmless

Summary: When work brings reader back to New York City, she has to face her lingering feelings for a certain supersoldier.

Based on "Sex (With My Ex)" by Fletcher

Warnings: Female Reader, Smut, Angst, not a happy ending

           Christmas in New York was just as I remembered it – Storefronts overflowing with holiday décor, trees and shrubs adorned with twinkling lights, and people pushing past each other, in a rush to get everything done before the big day. It had been a few years since I’d been in the city during Christmas, but an assignment I’d been sent on had brought me back. Growing up in London, I was used to extravagant holiday displays, but New York at Christmastime would always hold a special place in my heart.

           At the moment, though, it was neither my assignment nor the holidays that had me walking down Prospect Place in Brooklyn at dusk. The street was familiar – more familiar to me than it should have been – and my heart started beating faster as I neared my destination.

           He was standing outside the coffee shop waiting for me when I arrived, holding two to-go cups of coffee. He was dressed in jeans and a leather jacket over a plain gray t-shirt, barely enough to keep warm on a chilly December evening, if he had to worry about the cold. His face lit up with a brilliant smile when he saw me, and my heart flipped in my chest.

           “Hey,” Bucky greeted as I approached him. “I got your favourite – a hazelnut cappuccino.”

           He handed me one of the cups, and I tugged my bottom lip between my teeth. The fact that he insisted on meeting up at the place we’d had our first date and still remembered my coffee order should have annoyed me, but instead it had butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

           “Thanks,” I murmured, taking a sip and letting the hot liquid warm my insides. “I wasn’t sure you’d reach out, let alone know I was in town.”

           “Steve heard from Fury and told me,” Bucky replied, grin rueful. “It’s been awhile, I thought it’d be nice to catch up.”

           I nodded. “Right. So, did you wanna sit” – I gestured at the bistro tables outside the coffee shop – “or walk?”

           “You’ll stay warmer if we’re moving. Besides, I know how much you love Christmas in the city. I won’t deprive you of that.”

           A blush tinted my cheeks pink, but I fell into step with Bucky as we made our way down the street. Part of me knew this was a very bad idea, even seeing him, but a larger part squashed those thoughts. We were just two friends catching up; we’d keep the conversation light and carefully avoid anything to do with the past. As long as there were no expectations, it would be harmless.

           “So, how’s London?” Bucky asked as we walked. I shrugged.

           “It was always home to me, so it wasn’t much of an adjustment moving back.”

           I would have missed it had I not known him so well, but my eyes caught the way Bucky flinched at my words. I pursed my lips and shook my head.

           “I just meant that’s where I grew up –” I started, but Bucky cut me off.

           “I know what you meant, (Y/N); no need to explain.” He took a sip of his coffee – black, with two sugars, if my memory served me – and was silent a moment before speaking again. “So, the MI6," he said airily. “Must be quite the step up from S.H.I.E.L.D. You’re one of the elites now, like James Bond.”

           I snorted. “I see Sam has introduced you to another movie franchise.”

           Bucky’s grin was mischievous. “How do I know you aren’t undercover right now and trying to gather intel to take back to England?” he accused, and I arched a brow at him.    

           “You reached out to me, remember?” I pointed out. Bucky’s smile softened.

           “I did,” he agreed. “I missed you, (Y/N).”

           I froze. I shook my head, heart in my throat. “Bucky…”

           “I didn’t mean it like that, calm down. Can’t a friend tell another friend he’s missed her? We are friends, aren’t we?”

           The breath I’d been holding left my lungs in a whoosh, and I nodded dazedly. “Right. Yes. Of course. Friends,” I mumbled. Bucky gave me an inquiring look, brow furrowed and blue eyes boring into mine until I had to tear my gaze away. I took a sip of my cappuccino, fighting to steady my heart rate.

           “So, how’s the rest of the team?” I asked once I’d regained my composure. Bucky shrugged.

           “Nothing’s changed. Steve and Tony still bicker. Sam is still annoying as hell most of the time. Things are still awkward between Nat and Bruce. You know, the usual.”

           “I miss everyone,” I admitted, and Bucky’s smile was soft and sad.

           “They miss you, too, doll. You always had a way of bringing everyone together, even when we were all tired and cranky and ready to throttle each other.”

           His words left a tightness in my chest, and I frowned. We were encroaching on a dangerous topic, and if I didn’t steer the conversation elsewhere, we’d be opening a can of worms I wasn’t prepared to deal with. I forced a smile onto my face, and pointed to a group of Christmas carollers down the street.

           “Look, how wonderful!” I exclaimed, and before Bucky could say anything, I was already halfway down the street.

           It was easier than I thought to keep conversation light. We talked about our plans for Christmas, my family, the difference in weather between New York and London, and other things that two friends catching up would talk about. I had forgotten how easily conversation flowed between Bucky and I, and it wasn’t long before the tension had melted from my body and I was enjoying his company without feeling anxious.

           “You’re cold,” Bucky pointed out as I shoved my hands into the pockets of my wool peacoat.

           “Maybe a little,” I admitted, and with a frown Bucky took a gentle hold of my arm and pulled me into the nearest building.

           We were immediately met with warmth, and I shivered in relief. He had pulled us into a cozy little pub, Christmas lights lining the windows and the bar, and Frank Sinatra crooning White Christmas drifted through the air and mingled with the chatter of the bar patrons. The air smelled of beer, whiskey, and hickory smoke, and I couldn’t help but think it reminded me of the pubs back home in England.

           “How about I buy you a drink?” Bucky suggested. I pursed my lips, hesitant.

           “I really shouldn’t; it’s getting late and I have a flight to catch early tomorrow morning…” I started, but Bucky shook his head.

           “It’s just one drink, (Y/N),” he insisted. “What’s the harm? It’s still early in the night, you’ll have plenty of time to prepare for your flight tomorrow.” He paused, giving me his best wide-eyed puppy dog look – the one I had always been powerless against. I glared half-heartedly at him with a shake of my head.

           “Don’t give me that look!” I cried. “You know I’ve never been able to resist it.”

           “Exactly,” he replied with a smirk. “So, one drink?”

           “One drink,” I ceded, and Bucky grinned triumphantly as he dragged me to the bar. He ordered two Greyhounds and we settled on a couple of the barstools. “You remembered,” I murmured, taking a sip of the grapefruit and gin cocktail. Bucky grinned.

           “Does that surprise you?”

           I shook my head. “No, considering enhanced memory is one of the side effects of the supersoldier serum.”

           Bucky shrugged. “Or maybe I just paid attention.”

           Feeling my cheeks heating, I lifted the glass to my mouth and took a larger sip. The alcohol was smooth as it warmed my throat. I set the glass back down on the bar, fingertips tracing the rim as I spoke.

           “I’m going to miss New York,” I admitted, my gaze focused over Bucky’s shoulder at the window overlooking the street. “I was ecstatic when they told me my next assignment was here.”

           “So stay a little longer,” Bucky replied. “Tell them you need more time –”

           “It doesn’t work like that,” I said with a shake of my head. “I’m on a tight schedule. Plus, if I didn’t come home for Christmas, I’m positive my parents would kill me.”

           Bucky grinned. “I always was a little afraid of your father,” he admitted, and I snorted.

           “And it always amused me that the Winter Soldier was afraid of a university professor that wears tweed jackets.”

           “An Oxford University professor,” Bucky defended. “He’s so intelligent and so proper, it was intimidating. He always had a way of making me feel like I wasn’t good enough for you.”

           I frowned. “You know that’s not true,” I said quietly, and Bucky’s smile was sad.

           “Even so, we didn’t work out for a reason, huh?”

           As he looked at me, blue eyes piercing and lips quirked up the tiniest bit at one corner, I had a hard time remembering what that reason was. He was so handsome and charming, and we got on so easily, it made it difficult to remember all the sleepless nights and fights that ended in tears or one of us storming out. Or maybe I just didn’t want to remember how poorly we handled our disagreements.

           Shaking my head, I downed the rest of my drink, and I didn’t even notice when the bartender switched my empty glass for a full one. I took another long gulp and then cocked my head to the side. Bucky was regarding me with an unreadable expression.

           “What?” I asked.

           “Nothing. You.”

           I wrinkled my nose. “What is that supposed to mean?”

           “I’m proud of you,” he murmured, and my brow furrowed deeper as a blush crept up my neck. He continued, voice soft. “I know Fury wasn’t the easiest on you while you were with S.H.I.E.L.D., but you always held your own and proved yourself, and now…Well, you’re an SIS agent, and a damned good one at that.” He grinned at my confused expression. “Yes, we’ve heard of some of your accomplishments. Word gets around in the intelligence community.”

           I chose my words carefully. “Thank you,” I told him. “I know you didn’t always agree with me being out in the field, so it’s nice to hear you support me.”

           “I’ve always supported you, doll. I just hated the thought of anything happening to you while in the field.” Bucky’s lips twitched. “You’ve proved time and time again, though, that you can handle yourself. I’m glad you’re finally doing something that makes you happy, even if it means you’re halfway across the world.”

           I finished my second drink before speaking, letting the alcohol provide the confidence I surely wouldn’t possess otherwise. “You should have known if I could keep up with you in the bedroom, I could handle a few idiots with guns,” I said with a smirk, and to my satisfaction Bucky’s eyes widened before narrowing.

           “Careful, doll,” he said in a low voice, eyes sparkling. “You’re starting to fall back into old habits.”

           “And what would that be? Proving that it takes absolutely nothing to have you itching to tear my clothes off?”

           For a moment we were silent, the air between us thick and heavy, and then Bucky was laughing, a deep sound rumbling from his chest. “Ah, you have no idea how much I missed this,” he chuckled. “No one has ever been able to banter with me like you. You always did challenge me, (Y/N).”

           I grinned as I accepted a third drink from the bartender. “Someone’s got to keep you on your toes,” I teased, and Bucky grinned into his own drink.

           “You look amazing, by the way,” he murmured after a few moments. “I meant to say that earlier.”

           I blushed. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Sergeant,” I replied, lips quirked into a smile. “You cut your hair.”

           Bucky’s cheeks were dusted pink as he ducked his head, running his flesh hand over his short, dark locks. “Yeah, I figured it was time for a change. Mostly I was tired of Sam calling me Axl Rose.” He grinned ruefully. “I know you always liked it long, though…”

           I shook my head. “No, I kinda like it short,” I insisted, truthfully. “It looks good. Makes you look younger.”

           “As young as someone almost a hundred and four can look, you mean,” he chuckled, and I giggled.

           “Don’t sell yourself short, Barnes; you don’t look a day over ninety-five.”

           Bucky cocked a dark eyebrow. “Ouch. Your words cut deep, doll.”

           I giggled again. Somehow, our bodies had gravitated closer to each other until I could see the gray mixed in with the blue of his irises, illuminated by the Christmas lights. The soft buzz of alcohol flowed through my veins, leaving me feeling warm and giddy, and I lifted a hand to lightly touch the short strands of hair framing Bucky’s face.

           “Y’know, I always liked your long hair because I could run my fingers through it,” I murmured, “but I guess it’d be just as easy to do it now.” I carded my fingertips through his short locks, and Bucky’s eyes drifted shut.

           “Feels nice,” he mumbled, and I grinned as my fingers curled in his hair and tugged with just the slightest bit of force. Bucky’s eyes snapped open, the blue-gray swallowed almost entirely whole by black. I felt my heart leap to my throat as a slow smirk curved my lips upward.

           “Good to know I can still do that, too,” I murmured, and a low growl rumbled deep in Bucky’s chest.

           “Don’t go startin’ somethin’ you aren’t prepared to finish, doll,” he warned, and I hesitated. This is exactly what I hadn’t wanted to happen – But the way he was looking at me right now reminded me so much of the way he used to look at me that it simultaneously had my stomach fluttering with butterflies and my core flooding with heat.

           “Fuck it,” I muttered, and then I downed the rest of drink number three before standing. “How close is your place from here?”

           Two blocks. Not far at all, but as Bucky led me down the street, flesh hand tight around mine, my heart hammered against my ribcage and my entire body ached in anticipation. He tugged me up three flights of stairs in a prewar apartment building, stopping outside a large wooden door and pulling a set of keys from his pocket. He was quick to unlock the door, and once we were inside, he wasted no time in kicking the door closed and pulling me into his arms.

        ��  Bucky’s lips searched out mine like magnets, and the second they connected I melted into his embrace. It felt like a homecoming, like I was returning to my place of comfort after being away for so long. His kiss was soft and sensual, his lips warm and plush against mine, but I craved more and my teeth dragged teasingly over his bottom lip. Bucky growled, and then his tongue slipped into my mouth until we were sharing breaths. He had backed me into the wall and his hands were unbuttoning my coat as my fingers hooked into the beltloops of his jeans to hold him tight to me. He peeled off my coat and shrugged out of his leather jacket before sliding his arms under my thighs and lifting me so my legs wrapped around his torso.

           He carried me through the apartment to his bedroom, lips attacking mine, and when I was back on my feet, he was quick to rid me of my sweater. His eyes landed on the red lacy bra I wore and he licked his lips, gaze predatory.

           “Just as perfect as I remembered,” he murmured, and then his hands cradled my face as his lips crashed back to mine. My hands slipped under his t-shirt, and I revelled in the way his muscles tightened and contracted under my fingertips. My legs hit the edge of the bed and then I was on my back on the mattress, and Bucky was pulling off my boots before his fingers hooked into the waistband of my leggings. He tugged them and my underwear off my hips in one swift motion, leaving my dripping heat on full display.

           “Christ, doll, look at you,” he breathed in awe, and I wiggled my hips impatiently.

           “Touch me,” I demanded breathlessly. I expected him to torment me; Bucky Barnes had never been one to take orders in the bedroom. But he only growled as his hands spread my thighs further apart.

           “This what you need, baby girl?” he rasped, and then his tongue delved into my folds and licked up from my entrance to my clit at an agonizing pace. I gasped, back arching off the mattress as my eyes scrunched shut.

           “Fuck, I missed your mouth,” I whined. “You’re so fucking good with it.”

           I could feel Bucky grin into my heat as he devoured me, and in no time at all I was a keening, writhing mess under his ministrations. As his tongue swirled around my clit, he dipped two thick fingers into my heat, pumping them in and out slowly. The sensations were overwhelming – Neither myself nor the handful of men I’d been with since the breakup had managed to make me feel half as good as he was right now, with just his mouth and his hands. I whimpered, feeling myself teetering on the edge of release.

           “Come for me, baby girl,” Bucky murmured into my core, fingertips searching out my most sensitive part inside me. My hips bucked and my hands fisted in the bedsheets as I moaned shamelessly. “That’s it, let go. Wanna taste how sweet you are when you come on my tongue.”

           His words pushed me over the edge, and my orgasm exploded white-hot as I cried out his name, fingers tangling in his hair. Bucky growled into my core, fingers slowing as his tongue lapped hungrily at my release. Once he was satisfied he had sufficiently cleaned me up, he crawled up my body and kissed me languorously, making sure I tasted myself on his tongue.

           “Sweet as honey,” he murmured against my throat as he pulled away. “Still my favourite taste.”

           My legs were still shaky post-orgasm, but I was able to hook them around Bucky’s and flip us over so he was on his back and I was straddling him. His eyes rounded as my fingers deftly unbuckled his belt and popped the button of his jeans, tugging at the waistband. He lifted his hips and I yanked them down his legs, revealing the prominent bulge in the front of his black boxer briefs.

           “Mmm, is that for me, Sergeant?” I murmured, palming him through the thin fabric of his underwear, and Bucky’s head fell back on the mattress as a hiss passed through his clenched teeth.

           “’Course it is,” he managed to rasp. “Always been yours, baby girl, you know that.”

           My hand stilled, and I met his eyes. He was wrecked, but his eyes were lucid and boring into mine with a burning intensity as well as a vulnerable honesty that he rarely displayed. Stop, the rational part of my brain was screaming, before you get too far into this and can’t get out. But something deeper and more instinctual nudged me on, insisting that the look Bucky was giving me now was everything I had been missing in my life for the past year. He was mine. He was always meant to be mine. And I was going to remind him of that.

           I peeled off his boxer briefs, and his cock sprang free, hot and hard and leaking precum. I wrapped my hand around his length, swiping my thumb over the tip, and Bucky grunted as his hips rutted up into my touch. I couldn’t help the grin that spread my lips. It was satisfying to know I still held this power over him.

           I leaned in to swipe my tongue along the underside of his shaft before my lips enveloped his tip, tongue swirling around, and he groaned, flesh hand coming up to gather my hair away from my face.

           “Just like that, doll, fuck,” he panted, until I’d taken nearly all of him in my mouth – Which was a feat, considering his more-than-above-average size. I could feel tears sting my eyes as he hit the back of my throat, and I eased off a bit and hollowed out my cheeks as I bobbed my head along his length. His entire body was taut, like a live wire, but before I could get him to snap, his hands were gently pulling my face away from him. I looked up at him with confusion furrowing my brow.

           “Why…” I started, but he grinned and pulled me up to kiss me thoroughly.

           “As much as I love your mouth, doll, I wanna be inside you when I come,” he murmured, and my walls clenched in anticipation. Bucky’s hands deftly removed my bra and he yanked his t-shirt over his head, leaving us completely bare as our hands explored each other’s bodies, recommitting every curve and plane to memory.

           Rolling us over, Bucky hovered above me as he kissed me dizzy. Lining himself up with my entrance, he paused, searching my eyes with his.

           “Tell me to stop,” he breathed. I shook my head, rolling my hips up until he slipped into me.

           Bucky groaned, and I let out a high-pitched whine as my hands clutched at his waist desperately. It had always amazed me how well he filled me, his thickness stretching my walls until the line between pain and pleasure was blurred, the tip of his cock pressed snugly against my cervix when he was fully sheathed inside me. As if we were made for each other. And in this moment, fire burning through my veins and my breath catching in my throat as he shifted just the tiniest bit, I wasn’t convinced we weren’t made for each other.

           We exploded like fire and gasoline, falling quickly into a rhythm like no time had passed since the last time we’d gotten lost in each other. Bucky’s hips rutted into me hard and deliberate as his mouth claimed mine in a devastatingly fierce kiss, and it was all I could do not to entirely lose myself in the sensation of being completely consumed by him, nails raking down the heated skin of his back as my hips eagerly rolled up to meet his every thrust.

           Bucky’s grip on my hips was bruising, but I would gladly carry his marks with me for days to come, as a reminder of how foolish we had ever been to think we could live without each other.

           “(Y/N)…” he rasped, breath hot on my face, and I opened my eyes to find his face just millimetres from mine. Though his lust-blown pupils had nearly swallowed whole his irises, they still managed to burn as he held my gaze, and I could feel my heart in my throat under his heat. I tilted my head to catch his lips, and he kissed me like he was speaking to me without words.

           The coil in my belly tightened, and I could tell Bucky was close, too, by the way his thrusts had gotten sloppier. His flesh hand had slipped into mine, fingers interlacing above our heads as my free hand carded through the hair at the nape of his neck. I held his face to mine, short breaths escaping our lips and mingling in the short distance between us. Bucky’s hips stuttered, and I clenched around him, causing him to twitch inside me as he let out a guttural groan. I whimpered, my own release crashing over me as I felt him paint my insides with his seed.

           Neither of us moved for a moment, trying to catch our breaths, and then Bucky nudged my nose with his affectionately and I titled my head up to press my lips to his. He kissed me, tender and sweet, and when he cradled me to him and rolled us over into the pillows, I didn’t put up a fight, letting my post-orgasm haze drift over me as I started to doze off with my head pillowed on Bucky’s chest and his arms secured tight around me.

           By the time I woke up, the sun had just started to peek over the horizon. I was still curled against Bucky’s side, his hand warm against my hip. The brevity of the situation hit me all at once, weighing heavy on my chest as a lump began to form in my throat. I’d just had sex. With my ex. In an apartment in New York City. All the progress I’d made moving past my feelings and getting over how broken-hearted the breakup had left me, shattered, in one moment of weakness. All my feelings for Bucky had rushed back to the surface, reminding me just how in love and obsessed we’d been with each other, and now all I could think of was how I was right back where I’d started, knowing I had to let him go, but working myself into a mess at the mere thought of it.

           Sensing I was awake, Bucky’s fingertips traced circles over my bare flesh, raising goosebumps as he pressed a soft kiss to the crown of my head. I knew I should get up; I had a flight to catch in a few hours. All I wanted, though, was to bury myself further in Bucky’s embrace – Just one more night with him, one more night pretending that falling back into bed with him wasn’t the worst thing I could have done.

           Biting back tears, I pulled myself away from Bucky, sitting up and holding the covers to my chest. His body followed mine, his lips brushing over my shoulder blade.

           “You’re not leaving so soon, are you?” he murmured. “We still have time…”

           I shook my head. “We can’t,” I said quietly.

           “Of course we can, doll. You have plenty of time to get to the airport.”

           “No.” I turned my head to look at him, ignoring the way my heart fluttered at how cute he looked all mussed-up and sleepy. “What are we doing, James?”

           This caught him off-guard; I rarely called him by his given name. “What do you mean?” he asked slowly.

           “What are we doing?” I repeated. “Why did you reach out to me?”

           Bucky’s brow furrowed. “Because I missed you. I wanted to see you, (Y/N) –”

           I cut him off. “That’s just it. I missed you too, but where does this get us? Like you said earlier, we didn’t work out for a reason. We can’t do this and expect to not end up in the mess we were before.” I shook my head, eyes glassy. “I was back in my feelings the moment I saw you, Bucky, and now…Now I’m losing my mind thinking of walking out that door, but we both know I have to.”

           I couldn’t meet his eyes; I knew the heartbroken expression that would be etched into his beautiful face, and I knew that one look and my resolve would crumble.

           “(Y/N)…” he whispered, but I could tell by the defeated tone in his voice he knew I was right.

           “If I stay any longer, I’ll feel like I’m losing you twice. I can’t put myself nor you through that again – It was hard enough the first time,” I said quietly as I slipped out of bed and started redressing. Bucky sat, silent and motionless, until I’d laced up my boots. He jumped out of bed, tugging on a pair of sweatpants and following me out to the front door. He bit his lip as I shrugged on my coat. His hands stilled mine as I went to button it up, and I looked up at him, heart hammering against my ribcage and knees weak.

           “I don’t ever want there to be hard feelings between us,” he murmured as he buttoned my coat for me, and I shook my head.

           “Me either.” My voice was small.

           “I love you, (Y/N). I always have, and I always will. But you’re right; we have to let each other go.”

           Blinking back tears, I pulled his face down to mine in a goodbye kiss. He held me tight to him, and when we pulled apart his eyes were as glassy as mine. I reached up to trace my fingertips lightly along his jaw.

           “Goodbye,” I whispered, and then I was out the door.

           Later, as I sat in my seat and the plane took off, I looked out the window with tears in my eyes, saying goodbye forever to that New York apartment where I’d left my heart. Goodbye forever, until next time. Because I knew every time Bucky called me, I’d pick up and fall right back into my feelings for him, consequences be damned.