#I love too that everyone decided to come in on this conference with the brand new Lt Castillo

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

In Love and War (7)

Summary: Truths are revealed and Reader has to decide what that means for her revenge plans.

Content Warnings: Talks of Past Character Deaths, Blood and Violence

Author's Note: Really building up for more and more angst here, aren't I?

Chapter 6/Masterlist

---------

Rhysand is gone when I wake up in the morning, the mat beside me cold, the fur not enough to fully keep the chill out. There’s some dried meat and bread laid out beside the mat for me, but he’d tied the tent flap closed whenever he’d left. I pack the food back up and start the familiar process of rolling up the fur and blankets. I have no appetite, and the more monotonous the task, the less I have to think about last night. There was no time to finish the conversation, not with the men scrambling to ensure we had no more surprises. Rhysand hadn’t come back to the tent until long after exhaustion had pulled me under. I was only coherent enough to register the warmth of his body beside mine before I’d fallen back asleep.

I wait until everything is packed, save the tent itself, to slide back into my chest piece. The leather feels heavier today. Everything does, really. I toss my quiver over my head and strap it in place, the silence making the heaviness worse. There are too many thoughts to be had inside this little tent. Too many emotions I don’t want to touch. I sigh as I untie the tent flap and step out into the early morning light. Cassian should have checked in by now, the fact that all the men are still here is a good sign.

A few of the men are already taking down their tents, the small amount of personal supplies piling up near where most of their horses graze. It won't take long for them to be saddled up and on the move again. This is a process that feels as familiar as breathing; I tear down the tent without waiting for Rhysand to come back from wherever it is he and Azriel have wandered off to--their mounts are the only ones missing from the herd but I can't see them over the rocky incline we're perched on.

Perhaps that is for the best. I think if I saw Rhys now I’d throw up. I need the answers, but I don’t know how to face them. I don’t know that I want to believe him. 

I tear down the tent and get it all nice and packed away before I remember that Andras was still alive when I’d fallen asleep last night. A quick glance to where he’d been tied up shows me nothing but a blood stain and all the tears I’d tried to keep at bay last night come flooding to the surface. 

I’m so tired of the bloodshed. Why does it always end this way? Is that all we are? Just brutes that kill and maim until we share the same fate? Is that all life is supposed to be?

I’m spiraling deeper and deeper by the time I hear their horses return and I am grateful I don’t have powers to advertise it to everyone the way their shadows had last night. I make myself busy, hands shaking, as I hear their boots hit the earth as they dismount. Rhys’s eyes are on my back as I tie the rolled up tent, I can feel them like a brand.

What have I done?

He and Azriel separate, one set of footfalls falling away, down the path to confer with the scouts, the other coming my way. It would be weird that I knew him by the sound of his gate if I hadn’t learned early on in life that the best way to stay safe was to mesmerize the sound of everyone’s footsteps. Can’t be underprepared for a fight if you know who’s coming your way. 

Except this time, there’s nowhere to run. All the supplies are packed and they go on his horse. I might as well be chained to the beast.

“Did you eat?” He sounds as tired as he had looked last night and my chest feels like it’s going to cave in on me. 

“Wasn’t hungry,” I mutter as I brush my hands over my pants and turn to face him. I should just rip the bandaid off, right? I

The jasmine and citrus scent of him is overwhelming, invading my senses; I hadn’t realized just how close he was until I’d turned, nearly into his chest. I have to tilt my head back to look him in the eyes--something I really shouldn’t be doing, but he doesn’t have the cowl on today. I must be a sucker for pain, because I want to be able to see his face. 

“Are you ok?” The same shadows that had circled his eyes last night still remain. I’m not sure he slept at all. At least we both feel miserable. Yesterday I might have been happy about it; today I just feel like an asshole.

“I’m-” Cauldron what am I? Certainly not fine, and truth be told, I don’t feel like lying about it. Not to him. Not after all the lies I’ve already spun. 

“If this is about last night…” he pauses, frowning, and gives himself a little shake. “If you’ve changed your mind-”

No, no, no, we definitely cannot be talking about my loyalties! Just because I feel guilty for doing it, doesn’t mean I have to admit to it, right?

“Did you kill Andras?” I blurt instead. It’s the first thing that comes to mind, because looking at him for too long is too damn hard and I keep looking at the blood stain on that tree. And, well I am curious about that. I do want him to tell me no. I want someone, in all of this, to be less of a monster than I thought. 

“Yes,” he says.

My heart plummets into my stomach. 

“He slit Avos’s throat and left his body in a ditch, there were already animals feeding on him by the time we located him.”

I visibly shudder and he cups my cheek in response. “I meant what I said about not liking violence, but there are things I cannot let go unpunished.”

These are his people, those are his fighting men, it is his job as their warlord to protect them, and if he cannot, it’s his duty to avenge them. I know this. I was raised on that belief. But yet I still feel responsible. If I’d never given Tamlin a reason to throw me out, I never would have ended up here, and Lucien never would have had to bring anyone out to try and rescue me. I would have been blind to the truth of my own people, but at least no one would be dead because of me. At least my heart wouldn’t feel like it was trying to rip itself from my chest to avoid all these terrible things that keep happening.

“Come on,” he gently nudges me towards where his horse is waiting, munching on some grass, when I don’t respond. I don’t miss the hurt that flashes across his features at my silence either. “We have to get moving and we have things to discuss.”

I don’t argue as he helps me into the saddle. He settles in behind me, firm and steady and I have never felt so many conflicting feelings towards a person in my life. I don’t want him to touch me until I know the truth of the matter; I need him to hold me and distract me from the reality of the situation. I want to be far away and I never want to leave all the same. 

He calls for his men to get moving and in the span of five minutes, all supplies are packed and stowed and we’re once again moving along the lip of the mountain, a glittering trail of starlight trailing from his hand as he stitches the wards. The pull of his magic is stronger today, I see the ward more clearly, but more than anything I feel it. It makes the hair on my arms stand on end and that thing in my chest stirs again at its response.

It’s a long while before he speaks again. “What did Tamlin tell you about that night?” His voice is subdued, I don’t know if it’s hesitation or the strain or doing this while warding. 

I shiver as I run my fingers absently through the horse’s mane. I don’t even know the animal’s name. I don’t know anything at all, not because no one told me, but because I hadn’t cared enough to ask. “He said you rode in, attacked my parents while they slept…” 

A growl rumbles through his chest at that. 

“He said they were dead by the time he got there and that he managed to fight you off long enough for our men to assemble and they scared the rest of you off.” I run a hand over the scar above my ear. 

 “Why?” 

I twist in the saddle to look at him, nose brushing along the underside of his jaw. He has a scar there I hadn’t noticed, just a little nick like he’d been caught by the tip of a blade just beneath his chin. “Why what?”

“Why did he say I did it?”

“Because you could,” I whisper. “Because you wanted to put us in our place.”

He stiffens. “And you believed him?”

“I-” The truth hovers on the tip of my tongue, too much of it and he’ll see me for what I really am. “Why were you there?”

“I had a sister,” Rhysand whispers. “She was a little younger than you, I think.”

Had. My stomach flips.

“Our people had been meeting to discuss alliances against Amarantha. It was suggested that Tamlin and my sister marry, to unite us.”

I’d never even heard an alliance mentioned. My father hated the Illyrians, even in all my earliest memories. I would have been old enough to be told this was happening, my mother never so much as whispered a possibility that Tam was to marry. 

“I never knew,” the words slip out as that stirring in my chest turns into a cavernous ache that might just split me right down the middle. I never knew any of this. Everyone, my father, my mother, Tamlin, hell even Lucien, lied to me.

“If I had known about you then, I would have suggested us as an alternative. She was never keen on the idea of marriage, but you were one of your father’s well kept secrets.”

Marriage? I sleep with the guy one time and he’s thinking about how he could have married me? I can’t be that good in bed. I think this idea of a mating bond is going to his head.

“It is tradition for mothers and daughters to stay a few nights with a betrothed family to ensure that they are a good fit. I was supposed to go with the convoy to make sure they arrived safely, but I got called out here to help fix a broken ward at the last minute.”

His magic stutters for a moment, as if remembering.

My stomach feels like it’s in my throat. 

“As I was returning to camp, so was their convoy, or what was left of it. We got their heads in boxes.”

Tears drip down my cheeks and those illusive fangs tear right through my gums as what little magic I have flares. 

“We thought it was Amarantha at first. My sister was unmarked so she could be married to someone outside of our clan and my mother…” he clears his throat. “You’ve seen our different crests. The Dark Bringers are what is left of the Night Court’s nobility. Even though they merged with the Illyrians decades ago, they always considered them lesser. They held council and refused my father’s request to mark my mother because of her lowborn status, and insisted he marry another to continue the bloodline. So neither of them bore the protection of the clan and it is Amarantha’s style to attack any unmarked for the fun of it.”

That’s why he was so insistent about me taking his mark in the beginning.

“We were halfway to the Middle, prepared to invade the Imperial City, when one of our spies sent word that there were two sets of Illyrian wings being carted around the Grasslands as trophies.”

There had been a lot of commotion that day, but I’d never seen anything, I’d been inside, dealing with one of my Mother’s episodes before that fight with Tam. I’d conveniently missed every single one of the details I’d needed to see the truth, and I can’t tell for the life of me if it was intentional on either of their parts. This could be a tactic to turn me against Tamlin, couldn’t it? I’d used my own sob story to get inside the camp. But why would he lie now? I’ve already taken his mark, I’ve already slept with him, what would he gain?

“My father intended to kill everyone when we got into camp,” he continues. “He ordered the men to kill everything that moved and burn the rest. I wanted vengeance as much as he did, I will not deny that, but I did talk him down from harming the women and children. Enough innocent blood had been shed. We agreed on that by the time we rode in, but… he was ahead of me and I had gone looking for Tamlin.”

How the hell was Tam even alive after something like this?

“In retribution, my father killed your mother first,” he swallows hard, remembering that detail, and I feel the tears fall anew down my cheeks. “I don’t know why he changed his mind or if he only said he wouldn’t so I wouldn’t stick so close to him. We never really saw eye to eye and there isn’t a day I don’t wish that I had stuck with him when we rode through camp. I could have stopped him. I could have…”

He could have saved her. 

“I’m sorry,” his breath is warm on my face as he whispers in my ear. “I’m so sorry.”

“I gave up trying to find Tamlin in the chaos when I heard her scream, but I was too late. By the time I got there, your father had managed to run my father through, but not fast enough to keep his own head from rolling off his shoulders. They died together.”

“And Tamlin?” I ask softly.

“It is tradition to bury a warlord with his sword. I took my father’s sword and I left him there. He had dishonored our traditions in killing your mother, and the Illyrians would see it as a weakness that he died alongside his enemy. So I took his sword and decided that my first act as warlord would be kill Tamlin and merge what was left of your people with mine. I would not abandon the women and children, they could come live in the valley if they took my mark and swore fealty. Except I found Tamlin and Lucien, not fighting, but trying to burn what was left of my mother’s wings.”

How could they have done this? Tam could be cold and cruel but this was… horrific! And Lucien? Lucien who had always said that he and Tam would have made better poets than warriors? Lucien who had often joked that the three of us should run away and start a traveling music group?

“I nearly killed Lucien,” he continues. “Truth be told, I thought I had.”

That was one of the few things I did know. He’d been in a coma for a week.

“And I had Tamlin by the throat, but…” his hand tightens around my waist. “I heard someone calling for him, and for a moment, it sounded like when my sister would call for me. I think it might have been you, now that I’ve gotten to hear your voice. But I never saw you. I just… I realized that if I killed him, I would leave someone alone, as I had become. And I didn’t want to start out my time as Warlord by doing that. So I offered him a truce.”

Gods, I’d saved Tam by pure accident, by being so distraught that I’d done exactly what I’d always been told not to do and had yelled for him in the chaos. Worse, Tam was alive because Rhys had been the better male and in response to that mercy, he’d made Rhys out to be the monster to hide what he had done. 

“We wouldn’t kill each other that night, or otherwise, and we would go our separate ways. As long as neither of us raised a hand to the other, our clans would leave each other alone.”

I don’t want to believe that Tam is capable of such atrocities, but the longer I am away from him, the more I realize just how scared of him I have been my entire life. It is not that he has done terrible things, but that deep down I was always scared he was capable of them. I walked on eggshells around him to avoid his anger. He’d lash out and throw things, push me around, belittle me, but he’d never scarred me like my father, and yet, deep down I knew there was a chance he could be pushed to those extremes, I’d just, never dared acknowledge it. Somehow, I’d always rationalized his outbursts as my fault. I pushed him. I gave him too hard a time. I was being too demanding or making too much work for him. I had not let myself consider that maybe I was not the problem in our relationship. 

“Maybe I made a mistake in letting him live,” he says. “I just… I didn’t want to turn out like my father. I wanted to be better.”

What have I done? I wish the ground would open up and swallow me. Despite every reason to be the monster everyone always made him out to be, he was a good male. And I turned out to be my father’s daughter. 

I slide my hand over his, intertwining our fingers. “You are the better male, Rhys.”

He squeezes my hand in return as his chin drops onto my shoulder. He has to be exhausted from warding and Lucien and keeping watch over the camp last night. The burden of carrying it alone must be astronomical. 

“I’m sorry for all of it, I truly didn’t know any of it,” I say.

“Can I ask you something?” 

Please no!

“Yes.”

We reach a creek that flows down from the mountain peak. In winter it might be little more than an ice bed, but for now, it is just warm enough for the water to still flow down into the grassy plains beyond. 

We stop to let the horses drink, Rhysand helping me off the horse to stretch my legs, his great wings flaring out behind him, as he asks, “Why did you stay, if you thought I had killed them?”

I debate on if the creek is deep enough to drown myself in for a moment. Probably wouldn’t get very far. Especially since he’s standing chest to chest with me.

“I-” I can’t tell him the truth now. If he were to find out what I had planned to do, he’d throw me out! I’d be on my own all over again. I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, go back to Tam, not after this. But now that I know the truth, I truly have nowhere to go. If he were to throw me out, I’d be on my own in the Wastes forever. No family. No shelter. No one. 

I don’t know who I’m supposed to be or what I’m supposed to do, but I can’t be alone again. I won’t survive out there!

The guilt may very well eat me alive, but he can’t ever know. “I wanted to see for myself what kind of male you are.”

He cups my cheek, “And what have you decided?”

There is one truth I can give him. “That there’s a lot more to you than I was told, and I’d like to know you better.”

He grins and my heart drops into my stomach. When he kisses me, I kiss him back, hands threading through his thick hair. I won’t ruin his life, he deserves to have something good and happy after all the pain my family has brought to him; I just have to lie to give it to him. I’m already in this deep, is there really any going back now?

---------

Tag List:

@judig92, @randomperson1234sblog, @nyxbranwenn, @lilah-asteria, @barb00235

-

@landofpetrichor, @hjgdhghoe, @buttermilktea11, @yourforeveryoungblog, @sassyn

-

@zoeisdreaming6, @minnieoo, @girl-math-aint-mathing, @raisam, @inloveallthetime

-

@blessthepizzaman, @bxtchopolis, @erencvlt

-

As always, if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know! :)

[hughiecampbelle]

Succession Preference: Dating A Professional Athlete

Requested: Hi!! I was wondering if I could request a succession preference? It would be them dating a professional athlete. Thank you ❤️❤️ - anon

A/N: Hope you like it my love!!!! So sorry about the wait!!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Succession Masterlist

Connor doesn't know how you do it. Between the workouts, the practices, the games, the press conferences, you're always wanted by someone. Never more than by Connor. He calls and texts you as often as he can, especially when you're away. He misses you a lot when you're away. When he can, he flies all over the country and world for you. He loves your teammates, often hosting parties with all of them and their partners and your coaches and really everyone involved. He can't believe what you've accomplished, how your hard work has paid off. He definitely offers massages when you're sore from games and practice. He also has an entire emergency room stocked in the bathroom for when you or a teammate have an injury.

Kendall can't believe it. Not just your career, which took off and has only been growing since, but also that you want to be with him. You're famous. You have fans and little kids looking up to you. That's crazy! He goes to events with you and all your games, whenever he can. He tries to cheer the loudest so that you'll hear him. In press conferences you always thank your teammates, your coaches, but especially Kendall for being with you through it all. You're busy people, so it's hard when your schedules don't line up, but when they do you make time for one another. He joins you in the gym, too, wearing his big headphones. He can't keep up with you, but he definitely tries. When you're done you hop in the shower together. It's not always easy being so busy and sometimes far away from one another, but you definitely make it work. You love him and he loves you.

Shiv is so proud of you. You've put in so many years, so much blood, sweat, and tears. She's been there for you from the very beginning. Shiv was born competitive, it's in her blood. When you have games she goes to almost all of them, decked out in your jersey/number with paint on her face and a whole lot of yelling. She truly thinks the referees are all stupid and shouldn't be allowed to decide what's for dinner let along the most important games/races of your lives. You remind her that you're not always gonna win, but she won't hear about that. Shiv doesn't mean to, but she definitely tries to manage your career. Brand deals, charities, cameos, commercials, etc. You don't mind, she comes alive with these kinds of things and, without her family putting her down, she's got a level head about it, too. She loves you, she can't believe what you've accomplished.

Roman HE IS SO CUTE makes fun of you to no end. He can't help it. There are just too many jokes to make. He never understood the hype of any sports and definitely thinks sports fans are more animal than human. When you come back sweaty from the gym he says all kinds of things that make you roll your eyes and give him v sweaty hugs just to gross him out. He's not always there in the stands, but when he can be, he holds his breath every time he sees you. Secretly he's incredibly proud of you. You're so dedicated, you're so driven, and it makes you so happy, he just can't put any of this into words. He wouldn't be caught dead in any of the merchandise your team sells and represents, he's made that clear. When people come up to you for your autograph he sneaks away, not loving the attention. When your career took off he definitely became known as Y/n's Boyfriend instead of the other way around. He's supportive, just not in the traditional sense.

[calyxthenerd]

i learned my passion in the good old-fashioned school of lover boys

Percy stood in front of the conference room, as several guys poofed in “Hello, my dudes, welcome to the ‘bi guys who love their girlfriends’ meeting, my girlfriend’s cousin did something like this and I wanted to do it too, I am Percy Jackson, he/him, and I got pretty cool water powers, feel free to introduce yourselves”

“I’m Leon Vargas, he/him, and I’m in a band?” He phrased it like a question, because he was very confused and slightly panicked, the closest he has ever come to magic is sharing dreams with his girlfriend

“I’m Sokka, I use the guy pronouns I guess? I don’t know, I don’t really get that stuff, and I am a pretty awesome warrior” he grins

“I’m Dexter Charming, he/him, and I love gaming” he waves awkwardly, man he was bad at this

“I’m Hunter Noceda, and Luz taught me about the difference between pronouns!” He beams “I use they/them and I’m a clone!” Everyone is disturbed, but they decide to ignore it

“I’m Adrien” he paused, letting the blue haired boy he was holding hands with, talk “and I’m Luka” “I use he/him and I can speak four languages” the blonde countinued “I use he/they and I’m also in a band” he looked at Leon briefly

“And now, we rant about how cool our girlfriends are and bond over it” Percy explained “My girlfriend, Annabeth, is soooo smart, her plans are always awesome and she’s so pretty too! missions with her are the best” he rambled, a lovesick grin on his face

“My girlfriend, Suki is really smart too! I’m usually the one with the plans, but she’s an incredible warrior and she’s taught me so much, when she joined us on our missions it was really great as well” he and Percy went to the corner to bond over fighting in wars and having girlfriends who were the same brand of badass, completely ignoring the rest and the fact that Percy was supposed to lead this meeting

“Violetta, my fiancé, is the best, she’s one of the most wonderful musicians I’ve ever met, and that’s saying a lot, considering I know so many of great ones, she’s my soulmate, it still baffles me how in sync we are, we wrote at least five songs together in our dreams over the course of our relationship” Leon smiled

“That’s so cool! My girlfriend Raven, is a witch, and she’s also really good with music! She’s the most talented person I know! And the way she gets when she’s arguing for something she believes in, it’s the most beautiful thing…” he trails off, zooning out in a daydream

Hunter looked at Dexter weirdly before starting his rant “Willow is the best! even when I was… not the best person to be around, she stood by me and helped me see the error of my ways, she carries the weight of the world on her shoulders, in the form of caring for all our friends, but she does it with such grace, it took me a while to realize it was doing her harm, but now our dynamic is much more balanced and healthy, at least that’s what mama Noceda told us” leaving Adrien, Luka and Leon, the only ones still listening, very concerned

“How do you do these trips across universes? I’d like to talk to this girlfriend of yours” Luka said

“I’m afraid I don’t know, I’m sorry” Hunter lowered his head

“How about we talk about Mari now, Luka?” Adrien asked, desperate for a subject change

“Melody is wonderful, she’s so lively and creative, she inspires me to do things i never saw myself doing before, and her being the one person, besides her girlfriend, to truly understand my sister certainly doesn’t hurt her case” Luka stated

“Mari is amazing! She helped me understand the world in a way I haven’t been able to before, being homeschooled and never having any friends, she is my guiding light, I love her so much” he sighed, his gaze far away, as Luka squeezed his hand

“I really need to get him and Vilu in a room together” Leon mumbled

“What was that?” Adrien questioned

“Nothing” he pooked Percy on the shoulder, interrupting a discussion between him and Sokka about the best kind of weapon

“And that’s why swords are supe- what?” the demigod turned around

“I was just wondering how you chose us specifically? Because aside from those two” he points to Adrien and Luka, who are flirting back at the table “none of us know each other”

“Well, you see- look at the time! You guys should get going, I’ll tell you as you leave” he declared

“Hunter is from a show my friend Clarisse pretends not to like” he poofs back to the Noceda house, where he decided to stay after everything that happened

“Leon is from a show my friend Piper told me about” he poofs back to the apartment he shares with Violetta

“Dexter is from a show my friend Will loves” he poofs back into his classroom, where a class was still happening, not even noticing anything was happening around him, still daydreaming about Raven

“Sokka is from my baby sister Estelle’s favorite show” he poofs back to the room he was staying in on his diplomatic trip to the fire nation

“And lastly, you two” he looks at Luka and Adrien “are from my brother Tyson’s favorite show” they poof back to the liberty

Magnus pokes his head into the room “how’d it go?”

“Perfect, thanks for teaching me that trick, Maggie!” He smirks

“I told you not to call me that, now let’s go, Alex and Annie are waiting on us for lunch” he grumbled, and they walked away to meet their girlfriends who they loved very much

[detectiverickitubbs]

Zito is in complete and utter disbelief that someone had the nerve to accuse Sonny of being crooked. He can’t even with the DRAMA. This is the face of a friend bracing for IMPACT. 

Gina’s just plain irritated. 

[mochie85]

Flashing Lights

Chapter 14 of my Mayari series.

Mayari Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: It's the night of the fashion show and things finally come together for you and Loki. A/N: This entire series is inspired by songs. The complete playlist could be found here on Spotify. Word Count: Over 5.6k Warnings: slow burn, fluff, smut with no penetration Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

The tower was abuzz with excitement for the past several days. Not only was there a renovation team fixing up the damage from the night of the attack but there were people setting up for the fashion show downstairs.

Loki had not seen you all day. He couldn’t wait to see you at the show tonight and see what you would model. Whatever it was he’s sure that your grace and beauty would only amplify the garments they chose to adorn you with. He’s never been to a fashion show, so he didn’t know what to expect.

“Ok so we have to make an appearance on the red carpet,” Tony yelled over everyone gathered in the conference room. Everyone was dressed up in fancy Midgardian attire. Tony looked like a teacher yelling over his class before they embark on a field trip. “That means that we would all have to leave and then arrive in separate cars.”

“But we live here. In the tower. Couldn’t we just take the elevator downstairs to the event?” Wilson asked confused.

“No. We need to show support for our fellow Avenger who will be on the show tonight and that means walking through the red carpet.

Plus, it would be good PR and an opportunity for those bloodthirsty vultures to take pictures of us arriving.” Pepper mumbled Tony’s name under her breath, warning him to calm down. “You guys have fun, walk in with each other, talk to a few reporters. Show the world that The Avengers are people too and that we only have their best interest at heart. Maybe then the Secretary of State would get off our backs.” His sarcastic smile beaming.

“If only.” Both Lieutenant Rhodes and Pepper said simultaneously under their breaths. The team was led out the back entrances and separated into two limousines. They were driven around the block, then dropped off at the front of the tower.

Loki decided to ride in the second car, the one without the super soldiers. He sat with Thor and Jane. Even young Peter was there, who was shadowing Tony in the guise of his assistant/intern. Clint was holding hands with an alluring woman, whom Loki thought must be his wife. Even Bruce and Natasha were here and dressed elegantly.

“Natasha. It’s so good to see you out and about,” Thor casually stated.

“Thank you. I couldn’t miss Mayari doing the show. I know she still blames me for pushing her to do this. So, I want to support her. Besides, I love Victoria’s Secret lingerie. I might pick up a few items next time I go shopping.” Bruce looked flushed and uncomfortable.

Loki just looked…confused. Lingerie?! A sudden realization came into Loki’s eyes. In all his inquiries as to what a fashion show was, he should’ve asked about the brand that you were modeling for. Oh, Norns. I don’t think I’m gonna be ready for this.

The team stepped out onto a scream of people and photographers shouting to get their attention. Tony and Pepper paused now and then to wave and let any photographers take pictures. He saw that the first car had already dropped off the other team and Steve Rogers was giving an interview dressed sharply in a tuxedo.

They all made their way through the boisterous crowds and back inside the tower. Loki presented his ticket invite to a rather frenzied-looking woman with a headset. Once inside the lobby, the team mingled with other guests of the show. There were celebrities, actors, and singers. Social influencers capturing the moment on their devices as servers were passing out trays of little hors d’oeuvres. Loki was impatient to get through this crowd. He headed for the elevators and called the lift to go up to the stage area.

There were more people here than downstairs. Some guests were already seated talking with one another. An usher helped Loki find his seat. He was seated at the end of the long runway, not too far from the stage, but far enough he wouldn’t have to strain his neck to look up at the models.

Once he sat down, it wasn’t long before Thor and Jane had joined him in the seats to his right. Stark, Lady Pepper, and Parker were sitting to his left. Romanoff and Bruce were sitting behind him, along with Wanda and Vision. The soldiers, Rogers, Wilson, and Barnes had sat in front of him. He was surrounded. How did this happen? Who assigned these seats?

The lights flickered once, then twice, signaling for everyone to find their seats. The show was about to begin. The house lights were shut down as all the lighting had focused on the stage and runway. Music started playing from the band on stage. Suddenly, a voice had come on through the speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen. We would like to welcome you to this year’s Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show, here at The Avengers Tower in NEW YORK CITY!” A round of applause from the audience. The announcer introduced the singer for the opening run. The lights had focused on a woman on stage, and she started dancing and singing. The beat of the song was upbeat and full of bass.

Pretty soon, models were coming out from behind the stage walking down the runway. They were wearing various forms of shorts, undergarments, and corsets. These designs don’t seem practical and comfortable. Loki couldn’t imagine you wearing any of these while training or in general. They were beautiful. Certainly works of art, but he would prefer you with nothing on anyway. At least that’s how he always fantasized about you.

He noticed that there were large monitors on each of the sidewalls and it showed backstage and all the chaos that was happening. He caught a glimpse of you laughing and getting ready with other girls before it cut to other models preparing for their walk.

“I’m gonna buy these for you.” Stark had said to Pepper.

“No, don’t,” she responded.

“C’mon. Which one do you like? Ooh, you’d look nice in that one.”

“Tony, stop” she scolded, but laughed at the same time. Just then, you walked onto the stage.

Loki could remember all the times you had made an appearance. This first time, you were wearing a sheer bodysuit covered from neck to toe with blue and silver rhinestones. Each stone was strategically placed outlining the curves of your body so that it looked like you weren’t wearing anything underneath at all. You had not transformed into your moon form, even though the moon was high into the sky by now.

You must’ve spent all day inside, Loki thought. Your hair was curled down to your waist in loose waves and a jeweled tiara on the crown of your head. You walked down the runway in your strapped six-inch heels, one hand on your hip and a gorgeous smile on your face. When you reached the end, you had stopped, winked at the audience, and turned to go back to the end of the stage with a sassy smile. You had a pair of feathered wings on your back that Loki didn’t even notice till you turned around.

You looked unbelievable. The audience had cheered for you when you first came out. They recognized who you were, and they were all going wild with applause.

Your smile and your confidence made the whole ensemble more than just clothing. It transformed it into armor. You looked every bit like the fierce but benevolent goddess you are. Loki had missed your courage. He longed to see your tenacity, to be yourself again. He knew that ever since that incident with that stool-eating swine from Tony’s party a while back, you had hidden yourself. This show will be your metamorphosis. Now he understood why you hadn’t quit.

The show continued with several other musical artists and different models displaying different outfits. If you weren’t going to go back on stage again, Loki would still die a happy man.

The second time you went on stage, Thor had to nudge Loki out of his deep thoughts. He stopped paying attention if you weren’t on. His mind still racing from the first time you appeared.

This time, you were wearing a large, pink, fur jacket, and long white socks that went as high as your mid-thigh. You weren’t wearing anything on your hair this time, but you had a sly grin on your face and black sunglasses. You had started unzipping your jacket and by the time you reached the end of the runway, you turned to show off the back of your outfit. You let your jacket fall off your shoulders to reveal a matching sports bra that crisscrossed on your back.

Written across your hips was the word ‘PINK’. You turned your head back towards to audience again to lower your glasses and wink. Who is she winking to? Loki wondered with a grin on his face. When you started walking back, you paused and started dancing with the singer. You signed the lyrics, interpreting her song while dancing along. You were having fun.

“Who knew that this would get her to come out of her shell, huh?” Romanoff said behind Loki to no one in particular.

“Now that I got a taste I think that I’d suffocate For every second that you aren’t by my side But now I’m stuck at the gate Of Lucifer’s estate I fell in love with a girl I met in Hell.”

The last theme of the night was dedicated to the Avengers. Each model came out with something that was characteristically unique for each member. The Iron Man model came out in a red metallic corset ensemble with a small, glowing arc reactor as a necklace.

“I’m definitely buying you that,” Tony said to Pepper.

“Thinking about all the things The way you pull my strings I love the way you turn me on I ain’t Hades, but I’m the king I’d do anything So that I could take you home.”

“She drove me, drove me crazy, yeah She drove me, drove me crazy, yeah She drove me, drove me crazy, yeah She drove me, drove me crazy, yeah”

The Hulk model came out with a high-waisted purple bikini, a green silk robe, and a matching bralette. The Black Widow model came out in a black skintight catsuit. It was made entirely out of lace with a matching black bikini under it. “I might have to switch up my uniform,” said Natasha.

“Ring around the rosy Pocket full of posies I’m a fucking blow all the ashes down Ring around the rosy Pocket full of posies I’m a fucking go crazy for you now.”

Rogers blushed and tried to hide behind his hands as his model came out with a short red and white striped pleated skirt and a matching blue bralette with a white star in the middle. Wilson and Barnes were heckling him but stopped when their models came out.

“Now that I got a taste I’m gonna hallucinate I think that I am tripping off your love. Started playing your games You got me in a checkmate Now you are the queen, and I’m the pawn.”

Bucky’s model had a metallic-looking glove on one arm and was wearing a leather corset with thigh-high boots. Sam’s model had the signature “Angel” wings and came out in a red and white lace number.

The next two models that came out were The Scarlet Witch and The Moon Goddess. Loki expected you to come out and represent yourself. He thought you would’ve saved your transformation until now to show off, but they got a different model instead.

She had a long white wig and had rhinestone glitter to resemble the markings of your body. As beautiful as she was, she couldn’t compare to the glory that was you when you were in your moon form, he thought.

“Thinking about all the things The way you pull my strings I love the way you turn me on. You’re the queen, so let me be your king I’d do anything so that we could rule the world.”

That was when Thor’s model came out. She was wearing a black lace bra and panty set under a long robe. The bright red robe had a long train that dragged on the floor. It wafted in the draft of the stage making it look like a cape flying in the breeze. She was holding a replica of Mjolnir, twirling in her hand.

After her, you came out.

Loki couldn’t believe his eyes. He had sat forward wanting to memorize this moment and never forget it. You had been demure up until now, not revealing much. You were wearing a dark green lace bra with matching panties. The lace looked like it was painted onto your skin. The long green robe wafted behind you mimicking a cape. It created a silk-green halo around your body, highlighting all your curves.

What made his heart stop was the circlet atop your head that looked like his horned helmet. He never thought that seeing you in his helmet would do something to him. He took a deep breath and swallowed hard. A sound he was sure could be heard throughout the entire room. You had walked down the runway and stopped pausing in front of him.

“She drove me, drove me crazy, yeah She drove me, drove me crazy, yeah She drove me, drove me crazy, yeah She drove me, drove me crazy, yeah”

You winked and gave a sly smile. When you turned and walked back, the robe flowed like water behind you. The entire team had looked at Loki then. But he only looked at your retreating figure, with his mouth slightly agape.

That was so liberating. So terrifying. So foolish. So daring.

You wanted to make a statement. You wanted to free yourself and find yourself again. There were countless times you wanted to quit the show, but you struggled through.

Now, you can say that you didn’t regret a single moment. I am not ashamed of my body. It is not a weapon to be used against me. It is mine and only I have the power to do with it as I wish.

Everyone did one last encore. The girls were so much fun, and you had a blast. You walked out arm in arm with Anya, the model who was dressed as Thor. She was the closest to your height, so they paired you with her in the Avenger-themed lingerie.

Never mind that you still had to wear especially high heels to stand next to her. All the girls were tall and slim. You were fuller and stockier by comparison from your workouts and missions.

The house lights were on now, and you can finally see the audience as you walked one last time down the runway. When you got to the end, you saw your teammates front and center, giving a standing ovation.

They were hollering and clapping. You gave a big wave and smile. As you turned to go back up the stage, you briefly caught a glimpse of Loki and how bright his eyes have gotten. You could not wipe the smile that was affixed to your face.

Backstage, you had dressed back in your jeans and t-shirt. Taking off the circlet shaped like Loki’s horns, you immediately got butterflies. I wonder what he thought of tonight? When they first ran the idea through you, they wanted you to dress in your moon form, and walk out as yourself, but you had requested to go as Loki instead.

Luckily, the producers liked your idea and ran with it. Looking back to your “fake date,” you couldn’t help but wish for more nights like that with Loki. Maybe this will be the catalyst to start that, you beseeched any god or Norns, as Loki would say, to answer your prayers.

You wanted to go back upstairs to your room and dress in something more appropriate for the afterparty. Maybe get some more comfortable shoes and a bite to eat.

The floor was deserted. Boy, Tony does not waste time in fixing and cleaning, you thought as you grabbed an apple from the basket on the newly renovated kitchen island. No one was in the common area. They must all be downstairs at the party. You quickly changed into a sequined-bodice cocktail dress and put on more sensible shoes. It still had a slight heel but not the dangerous eight inches the producers made you were tonight.

As you walked towards the elevator to go downstairs, the doors dinged and opened to reveal Loki standing in the middle of the lift.

He was leaning against the rail with his hands in his pockets, legs crossed, looking down, lost in thought. He looked absolutely sinful in that gray suit jacket. The top buttons were undone on his shirt giving you a peek of his lean muscles underneath. When he looked up, he was surprised to see you standing there.

“Hi,” he breathed out.

“Hello.” You got into the elevator then. “Are you getting out?”

“No. No, I was looking for you.” You pushed the button for the floor of the ballroom. He reached out and offered his hand, and you took it. He uncrossed his legs and stood up slightly while he pulled you closer to him.

“You were looking for me?” You asked. He placed you there between his long legs as he continued to lean on the railing. He let your hands fall on his biceps as he circled your waist with his arms.

Your whole body hummed. You always got lightheaded whenever he was this close. Your body was pressed against his. You could feel the warmth of his hands on the small of your back, holding you close, not wanting you to escape.

“Yes. I wanted to see you aft…after…” he trailed off unable to finish his sentence. You bit down on your lip trying to hold back a smile. His face was so close to yours; you could feel the tickle of his breath as he spoke to you. “You were magnificent tonight, darling. But I have to ask, did you choose to wear my colors?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded. You trailed your hands up to wrap around his neck. You gently tugged at the ends of his hair causing an involuntary whimper from escaping his lips.

“Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious by now Loki?” your face was so close to his. Your lips brushed against his as you spoke. “I want you.”

He closed his eyes, and he crashed his lips onto yours. He almost came undone at your confession. The kiss was passionate and messy. It had a sense of urgency and longing. He placed his hand on the side of your face to get a better angle. He opened your mouth with his lips and tasted you with his tongue. A moan escaped you and he pulled you closer to his body.

The elevator stopped and you pulled away, slightly lightheaded. The bell chimed and the doors opened. Loki watched you hungrily. He wiped the smeared lipstick from your lips. And you kissed the pad of his thumb to thank him. He held on to your hand as you both exited the elevator.

You were met with flashing lights and a roar of reporters behind velvet ropes and other celebrities getting interviewed. The front entrance of the giant ballroom was sectioned off just for the press and some fans. A reporter had called your name multiple times trying to grab your attention as you wandered over.

“Mayari! You were amazing tonight! You looked absolutely gorgeous.” The reporter said.

“Thank you. Thank you.” You smiled back.

“Tell us how you got involved with the show. What made you decide to do it?” As you answered the question, you can see the reporter’s eyes lock in on your hand holding Loki’s.

There were shouts from all over the room trying to get your attention. Some were even calling for Loki. That surprised him, and he just waved in the general direction of the yelling, looking confused. That garnered more screams and yells.

“You have fans!” you whispered in Loki’s ear.

“Really? That is very unlikely.” He said escorting you back to the red carpet and on the way to the party. When you entered, numerous people greeted you. There were girls from the show saying hi, and there were other celebrities inside congratulating you.

Loki didn’t let go of your hand once. The ballroom had been decorated with an angel theme. There were gilded chandeliers and white tapestries over the ceilings. There were feathers scattered all over the floor so that when people dance or walked, it would send them in a flurry everywhere.

“Do you see anyone from the team?” You said in his ear. You figured that Loki would have a better vantage point because of his height. Plus you wanted to take advantage of the noise to be able to have his face so close to yours.

“Yes, they’re over there in the corner by a lounge area.” Loki led the way through the crowd, holding onto your hand until you came upon the rest of the team.

“Hey! There she is!” Nat surprised you from behind.

“Natasha?! You’re back. Oh, it’s so good to see you. I’m so glad you’re feeling better!” You let go of Loki to give her a full embrace. You had not seen her awake since she left for her mission. You weren’t expecting her to be able to make it tonight because she might still need time to recuperate.

“You were amazing. I couldn’t have done it better myself.”

“Of course, you would. You’re the freaking Black Widow!”

She whispered in your ear, “I see you have some new arm candy tonight.” She smiled at you then said aloud, “C’mon the rest of the team wants to congratulate you.” You took Loki’s hand and followed Natasha back to the group.

The rest of the night was filled with drinks and laughter. You introduced Sam and Bucky to some of the girls in the show with you. And you must admit, the sight of the two soldiers side by side, with their smiles and charm on, was disarming to anyone with a pulse. So, you left them to their own devices.

A pair of strong arms encircled your waist from behind. You tensed for only a moment until the familiar chill ran up your spine and you relaxed. “May I have this dance, goddess divine?” His voice was so deep, almost like a growl. Loki’s lips were close to your ear, and you could hear his staggered breathing. It sent the most delicious tingle throughout your body.

You bit down on your bottom lip, and you smiled, “I thought you’d never ask.” He twirled you away, only to pull you closer back into his arms. You were face to face now, looking up into his eyes. You traced his brows with your finger and studied his face.

“Eyes blue like the Atlantic, and I’m going down like the Titanic.”

He smirked when he heard you sing. He didn’t feel a commanding compulsion, just a general warmth. The song that was playing was annoyingly fast-paced with no sense of rhythm. But you were both contented just swaying softly looking at each other eyes.

There was only half of the team left. Most of the others, who had significant others with them, already left. If you were being honest, you looked like you were getting tired as well. You tried to stifle a yawn and act like it was just a sigh. But Loki caught it and rubbed you gently on the back.

“Have you gotten your revels in, pet? Do you wish to retire?” He asked you.

“Kind of, it’s been a long day. My feet are killing me.”

“Then let’s take our leave.” You liked how he said ‘our’ implying he wanted to leave with you. You just nodded your head at him and the two of you said your goodbyes to your friends.

Click. Clack. Click.

The sound of your heels resonated in the empty common room and amplified in the hallway. You reached your door and you shyly turned around to face him.

He was unexpectedly close to you. His sudden proximity surprised you. His lean body pushed you up against your door and you could feel your dress bunch up from being caught in between your bodies. He had his right elbow leaning against the door behind you, trapping you. His left hand is on your waist gripping you tightly. He whispered to your lips.

“Kitten, if you feel uncomfortable, tell me to stop, and I will leave. No guilt, no strings attached. I will gladly come back tomorrow so we can spend more time together and explore this. But if you’re ready. And only if you’re ready. Please. Invite me in.” You took a moment to think about his words. Not because you were considering telling him to leave, but because he was so mindful of you and your feelings.

“Would you like to come in?” You asked breathily.

“I’d like that very much.” He sighed. You opened the door and walked in towards your seating area. You had dropped your purse down onto the coffee table and turned on a few lamps.

“I apologize for the mess. I was in a hurry before the show.” You turned to face him, and he had the most predatorial look of lust on his face.

He slowly sauntered over to you. His jaw was tight, taking in slow deliberate breaths through his nose. He looked into your eyes as he held your face in between his large hands. His soft lips crashed onto yours as he tilted your head and kissed you deeper. He was so commanding, but at the same time so gentle.

Your fingers gripped his hair to hold your balance. His hands explored your back, down the curve of your cheeks to your thighs. He gathered the skirt of your dress, bunching it up against the back of your legs.

His hands caressed your thighs and he lifted you to straddle him as he sat down on the sofa. All while never breaking his lips from yours. When you both landed on the couch, you could feel his hard bulge push against your entrance which made you whimper a moan.

“Do you like that kitten?” He asked trailing kisses down your jawline.

You panted a very deep, “Yes,” and you started grinding up and down on his growing erection.

His hands slid under your dress and squeezed your hips closer to his body. He was getting more prominent now and you could feel him shudder in response under you.

Loki relished all the sensations he was receiving. He could feel your kisses on his skin. He felt your tongue licking where his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down on his throat. He could taste your peach-flavored lip gloss. And he could hear your sultry moans as his hands traveled throughout your body.

You reached down to unfasten his pants. The sound of his belt was sharp inside the dark room. You rubbed him through the fabric of his underwear. His bulge growing bigger. His moans getting louder. He was a whimpering mess under you. Your hands left his hard shaft, and you ran your fingers through the sides of his hair so you can bring his lips closer to your mouth. He returned your kiss with such ferocity.

“Take off my jacket.” He said, as his tongue left your upper lips. He leaned forward, pushing you backward, to give you more room. His hands behind you, catching you so you don’t fall. You spread your hands under his jacket to peel it off him. When he rested back on the sofa, you started unbuttoning his shirt feeling his taut muscles underneath. His kiss never leaving your mouth. When you got to the last button, you brushed up against his him, making him moan. A sound that was so addicting, you wanted to hear it over and over again.

You freed him from his pants and started pumping your hands along his shaft, up and down.

He was twitching in your hand. His breathing got heavy. He grew harder and thicker with each pump. “Umhmm, your hands are amazing.” His head resting on the back of your sofa. “S’good. Fuck. Feelsogood.”

He could feel how wet you've become when he started to rub your clit through your lace panties. He slid the gusset to the side and started rubbing you with his thumb.

He was so hard, you wondered what that would feel like against your throbbing cunt. The thought making your walls squeeze at nothing, making you feel empty.

“Strokemebaby…yes…let me feel how wet you are for me.” With one hand holding his shoulder, you rubbed his cock against your wet folds. You continued to pump him against your wet heat. Rubbing against that sensitive nub of yours. Grinding him up and down. You slid him in between you, “Oh, Loki.”

“Cum for me darling,” he whimpered in your ear. That sent you on a euphoric spiral of pleasure. You squeezed him hard with your hand. You tossed your head back with a strangled moan and he bit the base of your neck which elicited a louder scream from you.

He gave in to his urges then and shot ropes out onto your still moving hands. He trailed kisses up your neck as you came down from your orgasm. When he reached your lips, he kissed them once, twice, three times before he bit your bottom lip.

Panting, coming down from your high, you wrapped your arms around him, “I think I made a mess.”

“Yes, you naughty girl.” He said in a deep growl. You let out a small moan and closed your eyes relishing his words. He chuckled as he squeezed your hips. He’s going to file that little reaction for later.

He waved his hands and used his seidr to clean you both dry. His cock was still out, the length still impressive, resting on your stomach. You rested your forehead on his and smiled. “Come, let’s get you to bed,” he spoke.

You tensed a little and hoped he didn’t notice. As much as you enjoyed him, you didn’t want it to go any further. Yet. There were some things you wanted to talk about with him first. He must’ve felt your hesitation, “You look tired, love, ravishing, but tired.”

“Ok.” You bit down on your bottom lip. “Will you stay, just a little bit longer?”

“I’ll stay as long as you allow me.”

“Hm. Don’t say that. I might not let you go.” You kissed the side of his lips.

“Then, milady, I would be a very willing and happy prisoner.”

You gave him another quick kiss on his lips and got up to go to your ensuite. “I’m gonna get ready for bed. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable.” He pulled you back down for another kiss before letting you go. You can’t help the shy grin permanently glued to your face.

Once you had done your nightly ritual of washing your face and brushing your teeth, you left to face the god of mischief in nothing but a tank top and panties.

He wasn’t on your bed like you had anticipated. Neither were your pillows and blankets. Instead, he was sitting by the large windows in your seating area. He had changed into his henley pajamas and made a makeshift bed in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

You hadn’t had the courage to sleep by the window since the night of the attack. Frankly, you missed it. But you’ll gladly do it if it meant Loki would be with you. You turned off the lamps on your way over to him. The only light was the moonbeams coming in from the windows. He turned when he heard you approaching. “Come here, love,” he said as he reached out a hand to you.

When your hand came under the moonlight, your markings had started to show. Faint at first, but the more you stepped into the light, the further their reach onto your skin they went. He could trace the lines of arrows and symbols up your arms, around your shoulders, and down into your chest. Your hair glimmered into a silvery blue, emanating its own light.

You knew your eyes would be next. You didn’t want to scare Loki away. Sometimes people didn’t like to see almost-white eyes looking back at them. When you finally sat on your knees in front of him, he gently grabbed your chin to make you look his way. The adoration on his face. The awestruck stare he gave you, melted your heart. “You don’t think I look odd?” you asked.

“Darling, I can think of a million different words to describe you right now, in any language, in all the nine realms. Not one of them is odd,” Then he signed, “You are beautiful.”

You got up on your knees and leaned over to kiss him. He grabbed your waist to turn you around. Your back to his chest, never breaking your kiss. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. His hand on your neck and his thumb brushing your cheek. You stayed that way for a little while longer, until he asked, “I would like to properly court you, my darling girl. Would you go out with me again?”

“Our first real date?” You teased.

⬅️ Chapter 13: Crush | Chapter 15: Put On Repeat➡️

Mayari Taglist: @user13cabs @alexs1200 @lokiprompts

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

TaskForceX!Delphia AU - i am not a woman, i’m a god (Rick Flag x AU!OC)

Summary: Ra's al Ghul has some devious plans - and calling Batman is completely off the table. So Amanda Waller decides to bring out The Oracle, ex-partner and somehow lover of the criminal mastermind, to quietly put his plans to an end. But what commanding officer Rick Flag never expected from this mission was to get jealous.

Pairing: Rick Flag x OC (Delphia Holman)

Word Count: 9368

Warnings: language, adult themes (drinking/alcohol, club scene), themes of abuse/manipulation/gaslighting, blood mention, gun mention, some seriously suggestive language, idiots in love, sadist themes (that may not be the right word here, if someone knows the right one please let me know)

if i go masterlist

A/N: Huge shoutout to @a-reader-and-a-writer @loverhymeswith and @reysorigins for beta reading this. You guys are seriously amazing and I love you all. This ones for you babes. And if you wanna get in The Mood while reading this piece, I suggest listening to this while reading:

The mission brief was in Conference Room D because Waller had put together a presentation—more like her assistant had put together a presentation, slapping their boss’s name on it so they wouldn’t get fired. Poor soul must be miserable.

The first slide was a long-distance shot of a man with a goatee and a fancy suit.

“Ra’s al Ghul—millionaire criminal mastermind whose one goal in life is to create environmental balance. He believes that to save the world, most of the human population on Earth must be destroyed,” Waller explained.

Rick flicked through the file as Waller talked. Going up against such heavy hitters was usually not Task Force X’s problem. Those were left to the real heroes, not a rowdy band of criminals who never got credit and were exceptionally expendable. That was the very reason the Task Force was even created.

“And he just got a brand-new toy.” The next slide came up, a grainy cell phone picture of some kind of stone archway. “The man we have planted inside Ghul’s regime tells us that this is a portal to another dimension. And on the other side? Soul-sucking demons that will kill everyone on this planet like the world's fastest virus. Ghul’s dreams will come true if he gets that portal opened.”

The slide clicked back to another picture of Ghul. “Apparently, he has the key to this portal on his person at all times. Doesn’t trust anyone with it, not even his safe. He plans to open the portal in five days once the ceremony has been prepared. So, we have five days to come up with a plan to get that key off him.”

“Easy,” Rick grunted as he flipped the file closed. “Storm the base, light it up—”

“This is not something that can be taken by brute force, Colonel. As much as I would love to see you up against Ra’s al Ghul, he’s too big a character for us to go up against in that capacity. This will need to be covert.”

“Why don’t we call up fuckin’ Batman then?” Rick asked as he leaned back in his chair.

Waller shook her head. “Can’t. Got in an altercation with Bane, broke his back, and hasn’t been seen since. Superman is off-world and Wonder Woman stepped through a portal of her own a few weeks ago. We’re all the world has left, Colonel.”

“Well, shit.”

That was not a positive outlook for the world, then.

“If you could take a look at the other file I gave you,” Waller said.

Rick’s brow furrowed as he lifted the file on Ghul, surprised to see that there was another underneath it. Was there more to this than interdimensional portals and soul-sucking demons? He opened the file only to be met with a half-lidded, blue-eyed stare and locks of white hair.

“Oracle?”

“That’s right, Colonel.” She clicked to the next slide to show a picture of Delphia Holman and Ra’s al Ghul together. “Delphia ‘Oracle’ Holman was found on the streets of Gotham by Ghul, beginning her career of crime as his right-hand woman— that is, until she left to join the ranks of Lex Luther, where she formed an even more… Intimate relationship.”

He didn’t want to, but Rick stiffened at this. Jealousy like a sharp pain hit him in the gut, but he shook it off quickly with a roll of his shoulders and a clench of his jaw. God, what was wrong with him? She was just another criminal—an apathetic maniac who could see into the future, who scared him with how powerful she really was. Who had listened to him talk quietly about his childhood with a wonder and longing in her eyes that made him feel sick. Who warned him once that he was going to get seriously injured on a mission—and when he refused to hear it, she had saved him.

He could picture her face even now, lying on top of him after she had tackled him out of the way of the bullet that would have given him spinal surgery. He had never seen such conflict in someone’s eyes; there was a war going on inside her, and he didn’t understand why. Not until she scrambled away from him and marched off without another word.

“So, what’s the plan? Thought you didn’t like to bring out the Oracle unless absolutely necessary,” Rick stated as he crossed his arms.

“I don’t. But at this point, I’m desperate. Ra’s al Ghul goes to the same club in Gotham every Tuesday night: The Cherry. The plan is to have Oracle planted at the club—Ghul will ask to take her back to his penthouse suite, where she will steal the key. You and Blackguard will be her backup at the club.”

“Think she’ll agree to it?”

“She’ll agree if you tell her.”

Rick’s jaw ticked again. He was foolish to think that Waller hadn’t noticed whatever was going on between him and Delphia—if there was even anything there. But Waller noticed everything, it seemed. Even the potential for something.

“Fine.”

As Rick got up from his chair and exited the conference room, he could see Waller’s shit-eating smirk out of the corner of his eye. A grimace pulled at his mouth as he stalked down the hallway towards the penitentiary entrance.

Fuck Amanda Waller.

Delphia got thrown in solitary again for getting in a screaming match with one of the guards. She liked it better down there. It was quiet except for the growls of the crocodile man that lived down the hall, but she could easily tune that out. None of her few personal possessions were allowed in the cramped concrete space, but that didn’t matter much, either. She had gone most of her life without anything to call her own. All she had down here was a small cot, the sink, and the toilet. That was plenty to go by for the next two weeks.

So there she sat on her cot, legs crossed as she tried to scratch an itch underneath her power-dampening collar. It was always a real bitch to get under there.

Then there was a knock on the metal door of her cell.

She only glanced over at the window, still concentrated on getting her fingers beneath the harsh metal of her collar.

“What?”

“Hey, Holman.”

It was embarrassing how that stupid southern drawl made her instantly perk up. Her hands fell from that obnoxious hunk of metal and she sat up on her cot to get a proper look out the window. It had been six months since the last time she saw him. It was some mission that she didn’t even get used for—the situation was less dangerous than they thought. Her collar never came off once on that trip, and he apologized for it. Apologized. In a soft way that made bile rise in her throat.

“Gotta new assignment for ya,” Rick said as he slid the file through the bars of the window. “Not sure if you’re gonna like it.”

“Since when do I like any of the missions I go on?” She asked as she got up from the cot.

Delphia took the file from his hand, trying not to make eye contact before she opened it up. The task proved impossible; she really couldn’t help herself. Not when she hadn’t looked into those hazel eyes in six months. Before those eyes, nothing had ever felt like home.

With heat creeping up her neck, she opened the file. But all the warmth instantly drained from her body, replaced by a chilling fear when she saw Ra’s al Ghul’s picture pinned to the top.

“No,” she immediately said, pushing the file back through the bars before Rick could catch it, the splattering of paper on the floor audible through the door. “No. I refuse.”

“I’m sorry,” —There was that sick feeling rising in her throat again— “But I really don’t think you gotta choice. You’re the main player in Waller’s plan.”

“Don’t give a shit. I’m not doin’ it.”

Rick’s sigh reverberated through the metal door.

“You’ll get to save the world,” he tried.

Delphia stared at the concrete wall, arms crossed, lip caught so hard between her teeth that she was drawing blood. Ra’s was finally going to do it. All those nights of him waxing poetic about his plans to cleanse the world were finally coming true. She never believed them, no matter how many times she told him that his dream was right. Back then, she had nowhere else to go; Ra’s al Ghul was everything to her. Her source of income, the provider of the roof over her head… The first man to ever love her, know her—and he knew it. He took advantage of it, until she could finally get away.

And she hadn’t gone back to him since.

Delphia found herself asking quietly, “What’s his plan?”

“Some ancient portal to another dimension—soul-sucking demons,” Rick explained. “Gonna open it in five days.”

“Just put up the bat signal, and be done with it.”

“Can’t. We’re literally the world’s last hope.”

“The world’s fucking doomed then,” she sighed, finally looking back through the bars at Rick.

He looked at her so softly, so gently. If she said no again, she knew that would be the end of it. He would take her answer back to Waller and get ripped a new one. But if she really was the last thing standing between Ra’s al Ghul and his destruction of mankind... She would give anything to see his fucking face when she stopped him—for him to know that it was her, his loyal henchman, who foiled the plans that he had been working his entire life for. It would be payback and revenge and justice and redemption for everything he put her through.

Just one look, and Rick knew that she was in. He nodded solemnly, understandingly—like he knew what it would cost her to take this mission on. And maybe he did.

“How well you play with Blackguard?” He asked with a smirk.

“Alright,” she replied with a sigh, “He’s just a kid.”

“Well, you got my full permission to punch him in the face whenever you feel so inclined,” Rick said as he backed away from the window.

The metal door gave a loud buzz and click as it unlocked. Two guards rushed in and clamped a pair of cuffs around her wrists before she could blink. Delphia watched, her face heated, as Rick glared at the pair of them. The two guards instantly backed away, retreating to their posts on either side of her door like kicked dogs. Once they were back in their place, Rick cocked his head for her to follow him out of her cell.

It took her a long time to cross the threshold. Was she sure about this? Could she really take on Ra’s al Ghul? She feared returning to his side for a reason—it would be so easy to fall back into his comfortable lap and have the world at her fingertips once more. But she still bore the scars of all the times his kindness had turned on her. Ghul found a broken girl on the streets and twisted her, mangled her, and shaped her into something of his liking. A loyal pet that would do anything for him out of gratitude—that barely flinched when his anger turned on it. Would she be able to face him again without falling into those familiar patterns? Was she being set up to fail?

Her foot finally fell through the door, and she was out in the hallway with Rick. Her head twisted to look at him as they walked—all softness and determination.

If he was with her… Maybe she could.

After Delphia and Blackguard’s mission briefing, Rick rode with them in the transport vehicle to the tarmac. Blackguard tried to make light conversation, obviously excited about getting outside the prison and “doing something cool” for once. Rick tried to make conversation, talking about the handful of times he had been to a club before. But anytime Blackguard tried to include Delphia, she would just stare at him, her half-lidded eyes boring straight through him until he gave up with an uncomfortable cough.

Rick escorted the two of them onto the cargo plane for their trip to Gotham.

“Oh shit, are those fucking suits?” Blackguard asked as soon as they entered through the ramp.

“Well, yeah. We’re goin’ undercover—gotta look the part,” Rick explained as he punched the button to close the hatch. “I suggest y’all change before takeoff.”

At the back of the cargo hold towards the cockpit, there was a rack filled with clothes in an array of colors. Different styles of shoes were laid out on the floor and a handful of toiletries beside a makeshift mirror. Waller wanted to ensure that they blended in, so they wouldn’t be caught.

Rick watched curiously as Delphia approached the rack with Blackguard, her chapped hands and uneven nails reaching towards the clothes. There were several dress options for her. Blackguard already made his choice—a black suit with a black shirt and tie—taking the outfit from the rack to his seat with a smile. Rick slid in beside Delphia with a cocked brow; he had never been very good at picking out clothes.

“The bitch stole my clothes,” he heard her mumble.

“What?”

“Waller,” Delphia said as she swiped through the hangers one last time, “These are clothes from my old apartment. She took them.”

Rick didn’t know what to say. “Sorry.”

“Not sure what I expected to happen to all my stuff,” she muttered as she pulled a white garment from the rack and turned towards her seat, “Just — Didn’t think it’d be this.”

Rick sighed as he watched her go, glancing at the dresses she left behind. These were all hers? They didn’t look like much, hanging there, but he could tell that they would all cling to her body like water, ending well above the knee. He wondered if the one she decided to wear was anything like that. He had to shake his head to make himself stop thinking about it—her body in those dresses. It wasn’t right of him, and he knew it. So instead, he focused back on the suits.

He had no idea what to wear. When he pulled out a navy suit jacket, out of the corner of his eye, he could see Delphia looking at him with a shake of her head. Not that one? He put it back, pulling out a deep maroon jacket and pants. He saw her nod—a difficult task with the metal collar. She guided him the rest of the way with subtle facial expressions and shakes of her head.

In the end, his outfit was complete: A maroon suit, white shirt (no tie), and a pair of white trainers. Draping the clothes across a seat on the same side of the plane as Delphia, Rick began to unzip his jacket. The plane’s engine was already rumbling beneath his feet, right on schedule.

“Er—Flag?” Delphia asked.

“Yeah?”

She looked hesitant, lip caught between her teeth as her blue eyes kept dancing to Blackguard across the cargo hold, who had already stripped down to his underwear. Taking a deep breath, she seemed to resolve something inside herself—like she was gathering her courage and finally had enough.

She said, “Could you maybe… Stand…?”

She gestured vaguely to the space between her and Blackguard. God, how could he have forgotten? They usually have team members dress before missions in gender-split areas. But even then, Delphia always waited until everyone was gone before getting into her suit. He never expected her to be so modest—but maybe it was because she was trying to hide something. It scratched at his brain that he would never know the answer.

“Yeah, ’course,” he said understandingly.

He shifted to stand in front of her, hands on his hips and shoulders straight so he took up as much space as possible. Every muscle in his body was clenched tight when he heard the tough fabric of her prison uniform drop to the ground. His jaw ticked as he kept his eyes focused on the ceiling. He was able to keep still while sneaking past a motion sensor; keep his eyes ahead when his fellow men were left for dead. But this right here was his greatest temptation. It took every ounce of his self-control and willpower not to glance over his shoulder at her. He respected her and her wishes; she didn’t want to be seen in such a vulnerable state, and he was going to respect that. He was sure his mother would come down from heaven to smack him if he didn’t—once Delphia was done with him, of course.

While he was standing there, he made eye contact with Blackguard once or twice, but the boy was too distracted by his new suit to care.

The way she tapped between his shoulder blades nearly made him jump.

“M’done,” she muttered.

Rick tried to go back to his seat and finish getting changed—he really did. That’s what he wanted to do. But out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a pale shoulder, and he was a goner. The white coveralls she wore on missions and the bright orange prison uniform were the only things he had ever seen her in—until now. Her dress was white as snow, clinging to every curve. It showed off the hard muscle of her arms and legs, the thin straps on her shoulders barely holding the thing up. It came down just past her knee with a slit that traveled nearly the entire length of her leg.

Then, he saw them. All those scars.

The stark white and red marks barely poked out from the confines of her dress, clearly a deliberate choice so people wouldn’t ask questions. It looked like someone had kept a running count on her skin. He could see several tiny burns on her thigh from the snuffed cigarettes that made her scream.

Blue eyes drew him in, and he understood what they told him.

Don’t ask. Please just leave it alone.

So he did. He finally yanked himself back to his seat and started getting changed as the airplane took off. But every motion he made was hard and angry. As she put on her heels and strutted to the other end of the plane to do her hair and makeup, he couldn’t stop thinking about those marks. He knew what scars from combat looked like—and they looked nothing like that. Those were deliberate, used to cause her great harm. His blood was boiling, because he had a pretty good guess as to who had done that to her. And this mission was throwing her back into his arms. No wonder she didn’t want to do it.

Rick Flag had never experienced a morbid, red-hot desire to kill anyone… No. Not until this moment.

They were only thirty minutes from Gotham airport. From there, a car would pick them up and take them to The Cherry; loop the entrance three times so it wouldn’t look like they came to the club together. More importantly, so it looked like Delphia came to the club alone—looking for Ra’s al Ghul.

The mirror hung in the corner of the cargo hold was dingy and cracked. Delphia had finished her makeup and hair a while ago, done the way Ra’s liked it, but she still stared at herself through the cracks in that mirror. It had been so long since she looked like this—all dolled up and ready for a night on the town, save for the giant metal collar still clamped around her throat. Even before she got arrested, she worked alone. No need to accompany some big bad male to the club or his little team meetings, wanting her to be nothing more than a pretty thing on his arm.

That is, until they wanted their dirty work done. Until they wanted her to be a pretty weapon—sharp and beautiful with a mouth full of razors and a twisted sense of apathy.

She turned away from the glass with a sigh, noticing Rick sitting next to his neatly folded tactical uniform. He cleaned up nicely, she had to admit. The suit looked gorgeous against his tan skin. And she wasn’t sure if he did it on purpose, but the number of buttons left undone on his shirt was nearly obscene, exposing a good portion of his sternum to the world. To her. His eyebrows were buckled as he stared at a jar of hair product, probably deciding if he should do something with his hair.

“You should do it,” Delphia told him as she crossed the hold.

“Do what?” Rick asked.

“Something with your hair.” She gestured vaguely at his head as she sat down. “You’re not that close to a military cut—but if you wanna look like a fuckboy, you gotta commit.”

He huffed with a slight smile. It was shameful how that made a pathetic sort of pride rise in her chest; she made him smile.

“How should I do it, then?”

Delphia pointed at Blackguard across the cargo hold. “Ask the residential fuckboy.”

“Ya know, I resent that,” Blackguard said, then sighed and relented. “Push it back. You’ve got it short on the sides and long on top—it’ll look good.”

Rick looked back to Delphia for confirmation, and she nodded.

“Alright, fine.”

He got up and went over to the mirror. Delphia watched, head cocked to the side as he completely and totally fucked it up. He grunted in frustration as he tried to fix it, still failing miserably, the dirty blonde strands of hair sticking up in all different directions instead.

Delphia rose from her seat with a huff and took the jar from his hand. Rick turned to look at her with a furrowed brow, mouth pinched like he knew he messed up.

“Let me help,” she told him quietly.

Scooping a generous amount of product from the jar, she set the container on the metal edge of the cargo hold’s seam, smoothing the putty over her fingers before pushing it into his hair. His scalp felt warm beneath her hands, his breath fanning her face as she worked the product into his hair. She pushed it away from his face, smoothing it all down. She tried not to notice those dark eyes slip closed, his eyebrows lifted like he was enjoying it. She didn’t want to notice—not when she could so easily trail a hand down that thick neck of his and make it disappear under the collar of his unbuttoned shirt. It would be so easy. Too easy. She respected him too much to do anything like that. He was her commanding officer, the man in charge. And he was Rick Flag. He was too good, too caring, too sweet. She would only ruin him—twist him and shape him into something dark that matched her own soul, like everyone had done to her before. It’s a cycle that she was determined to break, even if that meant never getting an ounce of him. She swallowed thickly as she pulled a single lock of hair free and lay it over his forehead. It took every ounce of willpower she had to pull her hands away when she was finished.

No. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—get familiar.

Rick opened his eyes again and quirked a brow. “Good?”

“Good. Now you look like a real fuckboy.”

He nodded in thanks before moving around her and snatching a small plastic case from the floor. Delphia had to take a large, calming breath before she could turn and face him again.

“Alright, these are our comms.” Rick popped open the case to reveal a foamy inside, with little indents for three nude earpieces and three signal packs. “We’ll be using channel three.”

Delphia took an earpiece and a signal pack after Blackguard, shoving the little piece of plastic in her ear and the metal block into her clutch after she tuned it to the proper channel.

“Channel three check,” Rick’s voice echoed in the cargo hold as well as her ear.

“Channel three check,” came Blackguard’s drone.

Delphia took a breath as she buckled herself in for landing. “Channel three check.”

“Alright people,” Waller’s voice suddenly sounded off in her head like her conscience. “Let’s start the show.”

The plane landed with a soft thud and the pilot came over the intercom, informing them they had reached Gotham airport. Delphia unclipped herself from her seat and gathered up her clutch, ready for the hatch to open to get out of this stuffy tin can.

But then Rick approached her with the metal key to her collar, and she stopped dead in her tracks. Right—she had nearly forgotten it was on. He reached around the back of her neck and inserted the key, the collar clicking and hissing softly as it released. Delphia grunted quietly at the sudden decrease in pressure around her throat. Rick took the heavy contraption in one hand and tossed it into her empty seat, looking disgusted by it. She reached up and touched her neck for what felt like the first time in forever. The flesh felt raw and hot, likely a bright shade of red. It was made worse by the fact she was scratching at her skin like a dog with fleas. Good thing she put some concealer in her clutch.

“No funny business, Oracle,” Waller warned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Delphia was dropped off at the club first. The way she looked at Rick sitting across from her when the valet opened the door made it felt like he had just been shot. For the entire ride from the airport, Blackguard was filling the silence with some story about his partying days before Belle Reve, while Delphia stared down at the floor with unfocused eyes and her arms crossed tight over her chest. But then the door opened, and her expression finally changed—from nothing to something Rick couldn’t quite place. Fear? Doubt? Either way, he felt his blood run cold as she stepped out of the car and the door shut behind her.

“I’m next, right?” Blackguard asked as he fidgeted with his suit pants.

“No,” Rick grunted, starting to lose his patience. “Just remember to use the fake name Waller put on the list—”

“Yeah, yeah, Winston Schmidt.”

“And if you try to steal this car while you’re alone… Just remember I will blow out your skull,” Waller said over comms.

Blackguard adjusted his pants one more time as the car pulled up to the curb once more. “Yeah, yeah.”

When the door opened this time, Rick slid out of the car and adjusted the lay of his jacket. There was a line of people waiting to get in to the right of the darkened glass door. A bouncer in an all-black suit stood at the beginning of the line with a clipboard in hand and an earpiece. He clearly had a sidearm hidden beneath his jacket—but then again, so did Rick. A bright red neon sign glowed above the door, shouting The Cherry to anyone that passed by, along with a cartoon depiction of a woman’s mouth sucking on a pair of cherries.

Rick straightened his shoulders and walked up to the door. The bouncer held out a hand, shifting his grip on the clipboard. The thumping bass could be heard from inside.

“Nick Miller,” Rick replied, trying to act nonchalant.

The bouncer scanned the list for a moment. Rick wondered if Delphia even had to say her name; she came here with Ra’s every Tuesday night for years. It was like a movie in his head: Her, walking up to the door with that white dress, the bouncer not being able to open the door for her fast enough…

“Found ya!” The bouncer finally exclaimed. Then he opened the door, letting the music wash over the sidewalk like a shadow. “Enjoy your evening, Mr. Miller.”

Rick nodded before stepping through the door.

Even though it was dark outside, it was nothing in comparison to the darkness of the club. The bass of the music pulsed through his veins. There were people everywhere, stuffed into every corner and crevice. The Cherry had two floors; on the main floor was the dancefloor and the bar, neon strobes and blacklights flickering all over the place. On the balcony, private booths overlooked the first floor, each one already filled by somebody important in Gotham. Rick couldn’t spot Ghul as he moved further into the club, squeezing past scantily clad girls and sweaty people.

“I’m inside,” he informed over comms.

“At the bar.” Delphia’s voice was barely a whisper over the loud music.

Rick searched for her as he found an empty column to lean against. She wasn’t hard to spot, her white hair seeming to glow in the dim lights of the club. She stood there sipping on a martini, hiding her mouth behind the glass, staring out at the dancefloor like she was exactly where she wanted to be.

“Think Ghul’s noticed you yet?” He asked as he observed a laughing pair of men slapping at each other’s backs as they walked past him.

“Oh, he has.”

“How do you know?” Blackguard questioned suddenly. “I’m inside, by the way.”

“Blackguard, get up to the second floor and watch from above.”

“He can’t,” Delphia said.

Rick sighed in annoyance. “Why not?”

“Ra’s is up there—third booth from the left. One of his men is stationed at the bottom of the stairs. There’s not anybody up there that he doesn’t want to be.”

“Is there a set of service stairs?”

“Yeah. Through the kitchens.”

Blackguard’s loud, disappointed sigh crackled in his ear. “I’m on it.”

Rick spotted Delphia across the club again. Even from that distance, he could tell that she was already looking over at him.

“You look stupid standing there without a drink,” she told him.

“You’re already at the bar.”

“Right. Undercover—separately.” She sat down her drink and called for the bartender to refill it. “Ra’s knows I’m here. He’s watching. But he doesn’t care.”

“You gonna make him care?”

Her drink was refilled, and she picked it up again. “He’s got a jealous streak. If I dance with some rando, he’s bound to send one of his men to come get me.”

Rick couldn’t fathom having to watch her grind against someone in this club. It was difficult enough having to watch her lean up against the bar, all that skin exposed with the sole intent of catching another man’s eye. His jaw clicked, and before he could even fully process what he was saying, he grunted out:

“No civilians.”

“Seriously?” Delphia scoffed. “Who the hell am I supposed to dance with then?”

“I volunteer!” Blackguard hissed quietly.

“No,” Rick all but barked. “You stay up there and watch our sixes.”

Delphia seemed to understand what he was getting at. From across the room, he watched her set down her drink and crook her finger at him—like she didn’t even know him. A thrill ran down his spine as he picked himself off the concrete pillar and made his way through the crowd to her. As he got closer, her red-painted lips twitched up in a smirk. For a moment—just a moment—he could pretend this was real. That they were actually meeting in this club for the first time, instead of being here on a mission. That she really wanted to get close to him, to dance with him. That she could look at him like she wanted him, and maybe he could do the same. That they were both free.

“Care for a drink?” She asked sweetly as he sidled up next to her at the bar, with a Cheshire cat smile that reminded him too much of Harley. “I’m buyin’.”

“Nah, I’m good,” he chuckled.

“Suit yourself,” Delphia sighed, picking up her nearly empty martini glass and leaning in close enough that he could smell her hair product over the booze. “So what’s a guy like you doin’ in a place like this?”

“Not entirely sure.” With one elbow on the bar, he watched her down the rest of her drink. “What’s a girl like you doin’ here?”

She turned to face him, so close they were chest-to-chest, and smirked. “Thinking terrible things, baby. Terrible things.”

Rick’s brow furrowed as he tried to understand her objective—to figure out that torn look in her eye.

But he couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped him when she boldly slid her hand beneath the collar of his shirt. He knew he had left too many of the buttons undone. Her nails scratched across his chest, and he looked down at her while she watched his throat bob. Some primal instinct overcame him, and he latched onto her waist, pulling her flush against him. He could feel every devilish curve, the sharp points of her hip bone, those hidden ridges of muscle that no one would expect. Without even noticing, his other hand disappeared into that slit in her dress, feeling the mottled flesh of her thigh beneath his fingertips. Then her hand was clamped around his wrist, pulling it away. Her fingers barely curled around the entire thing.

“Sorry,” he muttered against her temple, cursing himself for taking it too far, moving to pull his hands away from her entirely.

“No—it’s okay.” She gently grabbed the hand that left her waist, putting it back, her fingers trailing up his arm and back to his chest.

Christ, he felt like he was going to fucking explode. She could probably see it too. It was written all over his solemn expression; the incessant bob of his throat; the way he breathed deeply right into her ear. He really couldn’t help it. Not when her fingers, delicate as a brushstroke, ghosted over the buttons of his shirt, dancing around the top of his pants. It made him gulp and squeeze her waist a bit tighter.

She leaned up, her chest fully pressed into his, and spoke into his jaw.

“Take me to dance?”

Rick didn’t say a word before grabbing her hand and pulling her away from the bar. They disappeared into the crowd and situated themselves in the closest thing they could find to an empty spot on the dancefloor. Nerves bunched in Rick’s gut as he tugged Delphia into him—this was the part he didn’t know how to do. He never had been one for dancing.

Apparently, she could read it all over him. Her hands snaked around the back of his neck as she pressed her hips flush against his. “Just follow my lead,” she whispered.

Delphia made it look so easy. She moved her hips in time to the beat, rolled them up into his thigh as she practically dangled from his neck. Rick followed as best he could, keeping his face buried in her hair so she couldn’t see how blown out his pupils were. He kept his hands on her waist, making it seem like he was the one guiding the show, instead of the other way around.

She paused for a moment, breathing heavily. “Rick?”

“Hmm?” He hummed into her hairline.

“Touch me.”

“I can’t,” he breathed, holding on to his last thread of sanity, though her scent was driving him to the edge of intoxication. “You deserve…”

He couldn’t find what he wanted to say. She doesn’t deserve it? No. She deserved to be happy, loved, supported—all the things she had never felt an ounce of in her life.

She deserves better? Yeah. Maybe that was it. She deserved better than him feeling her up in a club. She deserved respect, boundaries—she deserved the right to dictate where someone’s hands fell on her body. He wanted her to have that. He never wanted to do something she didn’t want. Her entire life, things had happened to her that she didn’t want. He couldn’t imagine that that kid on the street wanted to become a criminal—to be turned into a weapon and a monster who did terrible things just for kicks. No… Delphia never did anything just for the fun of it. She found no satisfaction in hurting people. She wasn’t Harley crazy and she wasn’t Peacemaker justified. She was just a girl who never got any external love and support. And who could hold that against her?

A groan got stuck in Rick’s throat as her hands took hold of his and slid them down past her hips and over the curve of her ass. Of their own accord, those hands traveled back up her back to card through the tips of her white hair. Another groan nearly choked him when her lips pressed against his exposed collarbone—not some accidental brush. A kiss. What was that supposed to mean?

But then she glanced over his shoulder at the balcony, and it was like a bucket of ice had been dumped on his head. Right. This wasn’t just him and her meeting in this too-loud club; this was a mission. There was a mark Delphia was trying to get the attention of. She was a criminal and he was her commanding officer. He had gotten so lost in the moment he had nearly forgotten. But he wanted this moment back—that little pocket of time where nothing else mattered but the pretty girl in the white dress and the boy who just wanted her to feel loved.

Before his mind could fully catch up with what was happening, a man pulled at Delphia’s arm and whispered in her ear for her to follow. Rick watched her go with an expression that he hoped would read somewhere between angry and disappointed—not full-blown devastated, like he was really feeling.

As she was led away, Delphia looked back over her shoulder at him one last time. He wanted to tell her not to go.

“Delphia! Darling!” Ra’s al Ghul greeted as he stood from his usual curved booth. He looked relatively the same. Maybe a little older. More grey on those temples. He wore a velvet, forest green suit and a black-as-night tie—his usual color combination.

Something deep and terrible twisted in Delphia’s gut when he took hold of her shoulders and kissed both her cheeks. Memories flashed before her eyes… Those same hands, punching her in the gut. Those same lips, screaming at her to be better, harder, crueler than she ever wanted to be.

“Good to see you, Ra’s,” she told him, faking her casual, jovial demeanor so well.

“Everyone—make room!” Ra’s told his full table with a wave of his hands. “The Oracle has returned to our circle!”

Delphia watched as some poor soul had to get out of the booth, being escorted away so she could sit down. Ra’s patted the open spot of leather beside him and propped his arm on the back of the booth. She sat with a smile, her skin feeling like it was crawling with spiders.

“Now, now—I thought… You were arrested, dear Delphia,” Ra’s said, glancing around at the group to make sure he had their attention. “Locked up in Belle Reve.”

“Just a rumour.” She put on the silky voice and mischievous smile that she knew he liked. “You know I’d never let anyone catch me.”

“Mm, except the Batman, of course.” He squeezed her shoulder hard, and it took everything in her to keep from flinching.

She smiled again. “You know that wasn’t anything personal, darling. He was only a means to an end.”

Ra’s grinned around at the table, messing with the straw poking out of his drink. Then he looked back at her with a glint in his eye that made bile rise in her throat.

“Just like everyone else to you, yes?”

His expression instantly changed. He looked intrigued, like a cat finding a mouse to play with in the walls of its home. Scooting closer to her, he chuckled devilishly. Oh, no. She must have betrayed something in her expression—some slight quirk or dip that made him take notice. A crack—a weakness.

“Who was that man you were dancing with earlier?”

“No one,” she instantly replied. “Just some guy.”

“No, no—I can see it.” He pointed at her face with a smirk. “You belong to someone else now. How very sad.”

“I haven’t belonged to anyone in a long time, Ra’s.”

That was true. She belonged to no one. But still, the words shot through her chest like an arrow laced with poison. For so long, her heart had been caged in, walled with iron and set with defences. No one was allowed in, and nothing was allowed out.

But Rick fucking Flag. He had somehow wormed his way in; made her think that maybe she could be a good person. Because he killed, he maimed, he did terrible things—but somehow, he was still good. He was still kind, he still cared, and he still had that sense of sympathy that had been lost to her lifetimes ago. He always made her wonder: Could she be good like that?

It felt like corruption, in a way. Weakening. Like her defenses were being torn down and she would be left vulnerable to attack. But wasn’t baring your heart and soul strength? Wasn’t it harder to be made of soft flesh than solid stone? Rick Flag wasn’t making her into something of his own liking—no. He was untwisting, demangling, and relaxing her into whatever shape she wanted to be. She didn’t know what that shape was yet, and he was okay with that. God, it made her heart ache and her stomach burn. It made panic rise in her throat, because she didn’t know what to do with all that kindness—all the goodness he bestowed her, like some heavy crown. It was too much and never enough. No… She couldn’t get familiar.

Her inner strife had made sitting next to Ra’s al Goul—the man that turned her into a monster—that much harder.

“So, Oracle, what brings you here tonight?” Ra’s asked casually over the lip of his drink, like he hadn’t just wrecked her mind and soul.

She sunk back into the ruse with ease, leaning against his side, running her finger over the rim of the drink he bought just for her. “Heard Batman got his back busted, and it will finally be done.”

A flip was switched. Ra’s stiffened beside her, leaned into her conspiratorially with eyebrows knitted together in fury. “How did you hear of this?”

“Word gets around in our circles fast, you know that,” she said, “Is it true?”

He shifted in his seat, pulled at the leg of his pants as his arm fell behind her, wrapping around her waist possessively. “Yes,” he growled in her ear.

“That’s amazing, Ra’s,” she breathed against his jawline. “It’s finally happening. The world will be cleansed.”

It was amazing how Delphia still knew how to get him going, letting him lose his defenses. Repeating his sentiments about the impurities of the world and its need for cleansing always seemed to do the trick. He groaned before he dove into her neck, mouthing at it greedily.

“Come with me to my hotel?” Ra’s asked as he peppered kisses along her shoulder. “I’ve missed you…”

Delphia paled at the thought, but kept up appearances. This was part of the plan. Make Ra’s trust her enough to get close, really close, so she could take the key from him. If she did it now, he would know that it was her. He knew her sleight of hand because he was the one who taught her that skill in the first place. He had to be good and comfortable, maybe even knocked out cold, before she could lift anything off of him.

“Why’re you staying at a hotel and not your penthouse?” She questioned quietly.

This detail made a wrinkle in Waller’s plan. She had assured Delphia that there was a suite in Ra’s building where the two men could camp out and wait for her return. Staying in a hotel obviously changed things.

“It’s near the airport,” he explained. “We leave bright and early for Siberia tomorrow for the ceremony to begin. Come with me, darling. Come with me.”

Delphia pulled his face from her neck, forcing their eyes to meet; something he always forced her to do when he wanted the truth. It was a sign that he could trust her. “Of course, darling. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Waller barked distant commands in her ear. “Economos, get us a room in the Gotham International Hotel, now!”

All according to plan.

Rick stood at the window, watching the sun rise over the Gotham skyline. It was a beautiful sight. Clouds painted pink and orange like giant balls of cotton candy rose up and up over the sky, the sun’s rays painting the blue hues even lighter. The dark buildings of Gotham stood in stark contrast to the majesty of nature, but Rick couldn’t pay attention even if he tried.

His earpiece was still shoved tight into his eardrum in case there would be the slightest sound over Blackguard’s snoring. But after a few more minutes of waiting in tense silence, the comm giving him absolutely nothing, he gave up with a frustrated groan.

Delphia had been silent for nearly six hours. Rick began to feel like a monster was gnawing at his insides, making it all feel wrong. He never should have taken his earpiece out last night—but when his eardrums were filled with pornographic moans and the sounds of slapping skin, he really couldn’t take it anymore. He dug the plastic out of his ear and chucked it onto his mattress, Blackguard telling him to put it back quick, because it was getting to the good part.

Rick sat on the empty bed where Blackguard wasn’t lying spread eagle in his underwear, pulling a hand over his face. He was exhausted down to the bone, which only made the worries eating at him all the more apparent. Is this what it felt like? To be a deer injured in the woods, waiting for buzzards to finish the job? Surely Delphia wouldn’t have run away with Ra’s. She would’ve known that Waller would blow her brains out before she could even make the door. No—what Rick really worried about was the possibility that Ra’s al Ghul had done something terrible. Caught her in the act of stealing from him and silenced her forever. Any chance at a good life, stolen from her… Any chance Rick had of telling her that he felt something for her, completely gone. It made his leg bounce and sweat accumulate on his palms.

“Flag,” —Waller’s voice nearly made him jump— “Heard anything from Oracle?”

“No, ma’am,” he replied.

“Her tracker still says she’s one floor above you. Presidential suite.”

Rick grunted. “Want me to make sure she’s still on mission?”

Yes, the mission… This had nothing to do with the fact that he wanted to make sure she was okay—that she was alive.

“No, let’s wait it out.” The hope for something to do deflated from Rick’s chest. “Ghul’s flight leaves in an hour. See what happens then.”

It took a few more minutes of jittering nerves before Rick was off the bed, moving into the hallway, leaving Waller’s planted tracker behind. As far as she was concerned, he was still in his hotel room following orders.

In the stairwell, he took the steps two at a time to reach the top floor, quietly shutting the door behind him. He crept down the hallway until he reached the corner, sticking his back to the wall so he could peek around and see what was going on.

There was one guard posted outside the presidential suite’s double doors. He turned with a yawn to look down the other hallway, and that’s when Rick made his move. He quietly snuck up on the guard, catlike, and caught him in a headlock—hand clamping tight over his mouth and nose. The guard only struggled for a moment before passing out from lack of oxygen, and Rick lowered him to the floor as the last breaths of conscienceness left him.

Pulling the pocketknife from his tactical pants, Rick made quick work of picking the lock on the door, and then he was inside.

The presidential suite was a whole lot nicer than the room they had downstairs. But apparently, Ra’s al Ghul and Delphia made easy work of wrecking the place. A lamp was in a million pieces on the floor, an armchair turned over on its side, papers from the desk scattered everywhere. Rick tiptoed around the mess, careful not to bump anything.

Then he saw the bed, its crisp white sheets in a torrent with Ghul tangled up in them, hairy legs exposed, lying on his stomach. He was still out cold, and Delphia was right there next to him, tucked under the covers with her white hair fanned out like a halo above her.

Rick took a step forward, but didn’t see the empty liquor bottle in his path. His boot crashed into it lightly, sending it twirling over the carpet. He stopped the curse on his tongue with a grimace.

Ghul only groaned in his sleep, mumbling incoherently as he tried to nestle back into the blankets. Delphia sat straight up on the bed, a thread of Ether shooting out of her palm as a deadly spear. But when she saw it was only Rick, she relaxed—quickly sending the Ether she had formed through one of Ghul’s ears and out the other side. Rick had seen her use her powers this way before as a way to show people a vision of the future. Or, in this case: Keep Ghul asleep long enough for the two of them to leave.

Rick’s fists tightened at his sides at the state she was in. There was an angry bruise under her left eye, her bottom lip cut and swollen, her right cheekbone even worse. Black and blue handprints wrapped around her throat. Rick felt like his entire body was on fire as he made eye contact with her. Delphia never looked so small, so weak. She was always such a loud presence, though she never said much. She was powerful and devastating. But now she just looked like that scared little girl that she never let the world catch a glimpse of.

He turned as she got out of the bed, just realizing that she was completely naked. Screwing his eyes shut, he tried to take hold of the reins of his self-control—if he didn’t, he was sure he would shoot Ra’s al Ghul in his sleep right there. Rick couldn’t fathom a psyche that justified hurting her like that. Laying hands on anyone like that.

The way she tapped between his shoulder blades nearly made him jump.

Delphia was back in her dress and high heels, clutch buried under her arm, a rekindled fire in her eyes. She was furious as she stared up at Rick for a moment before heading towards the door, and Rick followed her out of the room like a lost dog.

With a swipe of her hand, she put a thread of Ether into the guard's head—some vision to make him think he had fallen asleep. Rick watched her march down the hallway with anger boiling in his blood and a feeling of guilt gnawing at his stomach. It wasn’t until they got into the stairwell that she finally turned on him, backing him against the wall with a finger to his chest and a fury in her eyes that put the fear of God in him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Flag?” She questioned through a hiss, digging her finger into his sternum. “I had it under control.”

Rick couldn’t find the words to say. His mouth opened and closed like a freshly caught fish. When words finally slipped past his lips, they were probably the wrong ones:

“He hurt you.”

Fuck. Why the fuck did he say that?

He watched as her face twitched and cracked. As that busted lip trembled. As the fire was put out from her eyes. Her hand fell flat against his chest, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.

Then she whispered, “Of course he did. Ra’s is… An intelligent man who—succumbs to his baser instincts when it comes to pleasure.”

“He gets off on beating you up?”

“To put it less delicately.”

She pulled her hand from his chest, and he wanted to reach out to put it back; feel that heat through his shirt again. But he didn’t. He let her gently touch the bruises around her throat and wanted nothing more than to storm back down to the presidential suite and strangle Ra’s al Ghul. No—he wanted more than that. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to make sure she was okay. He wanted to make sure that she knew she was safe with him. But he couldn’t do any of those things. He just couldn’t.

A crude thought appeared in his mind, one that he couldn’t get a handle on before it slipped out of his mouth.

“Do you…?”

“No.” Delphia looked up at him through hooded eyes. “He’s never really cared for my pleasure, and last night only reminded me.”

I would make you feel good, Rick thought to himself as his hands twitched at his sides, a silent plea to reach out and touch her. He would make her feel so good. He would make sure she finished, twice at the least. Because that’s what she deserved.

God, she could probably see all these sinful thoughts passing through his brain. See it in the bob of his throat, the twitch of his hands, the darkening of his eyes. He didn’t want to think them, tried to beat them down and shove them into a corner where he could go back to being professional. But it was all out now. The tiger of his desire was free, and he really didn’t know if he wanted to push it back in its cage. For a moment—just a moment—he could pretend that this was their moment. That this was it. They were just two people caught in a stairwell, ready to show each other their cards.

Delphia didn’t stop him as his feet carried him closer, standing chest-to-chest. Maybe because deep down, she knew he would treat her right. But then she put a hand to his chest, her broken lip caught between her teeth.

“Don’t get familiar, Colonel.”

They walked back in silence to the room where Blackguard was most likely still sleeping. They were no longer two people who met in some club and danced; no longer those people caught in a moment of uncertainty in a stairwell. They were Rick Flag and Delphia Holman once more; the commanding officer and the criminal under his charge.

To Rick’s surprise, Blackguard was sitting at the end of his bed, fully dressed. He looked excited and unsurprised by Delphia’s bruised state when they walked into the room.

“Did you get it?” he asked.

Delphia pulled her clutch from under her arm and out of it she pulled a stone disk. She flipped it over in her hand once before she tossed it to Blackguard, who caught it with ease.

“Waller’s got transport incoming—Ghul’s gonna wake up soon enough and realize his key is missing, so we gotta move fast,” Rick said.

“Er — guys?” Blackguard spoke up unsurely.

“What?”

He held up the key with a worried expression pinching his face. “This says ‘Made in China' on the back.”

“Are you fucking shitting me?” Delphia screeched as she snatched the disk out of Blackguard’s hands. She inspected it for a moment before looking up at Rick with wide, terrified eyes. “It’s fucking fake.”

“Well, shit.”

Taglist (if you would like to be added just let me know!): @bbygrgu @a-reader-and-a-writer @slayerx147 @xoxabs88xox @kasey-puff @witchygagirl @the-pink-petite-princess @blooo0ooop @woodlandmouth @csigeoblue @rexorangecouny @h-hxgirl @thisisthewayrose @blondiekook @darkestbeforethedawn16 @runic-belova @weallhaveadestiny @oopsiedoopsie23 @nerdgrrlramblings @ocfairygodmother @reysorigins

[winterscaptain]

spoiled.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: happy valentine’s day! 

words: 2.1k warnings: language, over-the-top valentine’s day shenanigans

summary: “the best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds.” - nicholas sparks. au!february 2012

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

Aaron leaves rather early in the morning, leaving you in bed complaining with only a kiss for your trouble. 

When you eventually get up, on track to be about fifteen minutes late to the federal building, you find a pair of post-its on the fridge. 

Always the romantic. 

+++

The evening rolls around and finds you on the couch with Jess and Jack. 

“You gonna start getting ready?” Jess asks. “You’ve got a long night ahead of you.” 

You look over at her. “Wait. He told you what we’re doing?”

She nods. “Yeah. You have no idea. He hasn’t done a big Valentine’s Day thing since he surprised Haley in her senior year of college. He’s been looking for an excuse.” 

That’s terrifying. 

“Guess I better get ready then.” 

Jack’s got a funny little smile on his face, but you ignore it. You’re sure the Hotchner boys are in cahoots, but it’s not really worth it to try and wiggle anything out of him. 

You head to the master bedroom to get dressed, throwing off your slouchy day-off clothes in favor of something that can take you to a fancy dinner and whatever else Aaron has planned for your evening.

+++

You walk out of the apartment, hearing Jess lock the door behind you. When you reach the front of the apartment complex, Aaron closes the car door as he hops out, meeting you halfway to the sidewalk. 

“Hello, gorgeous,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

He’s wearing a black button-up, black slacks, and his favorite pair of black oxfords. It’s a sharp look and one he knows you love. 

“You’re looking quite dapper yourself, sir.” 

The boyish grin on his face melts your heart and you take the arm he offers. Like a real gentleman, he opens the door for you and makes sure you’re inside before closing you in.

+++

The drive is quiet. You ask about the office once or twice, but it’s clear there’s nothing significant to report. 

“So...what are we doing tonight?” 

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “Dinner. And a few other things.” 

+++

When he says ‘dinner,’ he’s not joking. The restaurant is a high-end, no-prices-on-the-menu type of place. The lighting is low, the environment cozy and quiet. 

He must have planned this months ago. Reservations are like gold on Valentine’s Day. 

Aaron’s squinting at the menu across from you. It makes you laugh. 

“Need a flashlight and your reading glasses?”

“Shut up.” It comes with his own laugh, but he’s still squinting. 

You finally decide on something and order, trusting Aaron’s taste in wine. When the waiter leaves, Aaron reaches across the table for your hand. 

“Okay,” he says. You recognize his tone - it’s professional, like he’s starting a press conference. “No work, no kids, no serial killers.” 

You smile, waiting for him to give you a little more context. 

“How are you?” 

What a question. 

How often does the answer to that question not include work, kids, or serial killers? 

Not very. 

“I’m good.” You mean it. “I’m really good.” 

There’s a small smile on his face. “Why?”

Are you profiling me now, Hotch? 

Deciding to give him shit, you ask, “Why am I good, or is that a more general existential question?” 

He rolls his eyes and you relent. 

“Alright. Well…” You take a breath. “There are a lot of things to be happy about. You, for one thing.” 

“Me?” He asks. He looks genuinely surprised. 

Fool. 

“Yes, you.” You squeeze his hand. “You are my best friend and somehow - somehow - I’ve landed you as my partner. I am living out everything I dreamed of at twenty-five.” 

That pulls another smile from him. “Really?” Again, he looks genuinely surprised. 

Can’t believe I’ve never told this to him. 

Ridiculous

“Oh yeah. I can’t believe you never noticed. I had a huge crush on you - instantly. Derek gave me nothing but hell once he figured it out.” You pause. “Do you remember that time on the plane, really early on, when I woke up and everyone thought I had a nightmare?” 

Looking a little confused by your change in direction, and you don’t blame him. 

“I think so? I remember we all felt so bad.” He shrugs. “We all get them, of course - still do - but we were worried about you.”

“Right. So -” 

Aaron’s head tilts to the left as he interrupts you. “Did you say ‘everyone thought’ it was a nightmare?” 

Your face gets hot and you suddenly regret bringing this up at all. “Yeah. I’m getting to that.” 

With an embarrassed huff, you continue. “So, it wasn’t a nightmare.” 

“No?” The question comes accompanied by a frown. 

“No. It was a sex dream. About you.” 

You can tell he’s doing his best to hide his smile for your benefit, but there’s a threatening dimple that gives him away and you’ve simply known him too long for him to get away with anything. 

“Really?” His tone is neutral, polite, but you can hear the humor behind the apparently bland interest. 

“Yep.” 

“What - if I may ask - was it about? Specifically?” 

You take a breath and adopt the same kind of ironic professionalism as Aaron. “Well, now it doesn’t seem so notable, because i’m more than familiar with your, um, technique.” 

And it’s true. Though you hardly remember the details of the dream anymore - it's been years - you know that real life doesn’t even come close. 

Aaron pulls his hand from yours and steeples his fingers under his chin. He’s the picture of interest, so you continue. 

“The key points are as follows -” 

He holds up a finger, and you stop. “On second thought,” he says. “I think this recollection would be better served by a demonstration.”

You nod. “You’re probably right.” 

“I’ll pencil it in.” 

You grin at each other for a moment, the back-and-forth of it so deeply on brand you can’t help but steep in it for a second. 

“So,” he says, “as you were saying before…?” 

“Right.” 

Back to business. 

“I had a huge crush on you and could swear you were the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.” 

Never one to forgo an opportunity to compliment him when he’s not actively swatting at you, you continue. 

“In the lecture you gave with Gideon and Derek, I knew you were in charge before you said anything. Even though Gideon had the years and experience on you, it was clear that everything came through you.” You attempt to explain the inarticulable. “There’s a kind of steadiness - one you still have - that radiates off of you.” 

The two of you sit in that for a moment. 

You continue. “And then, of course, when we met again I had to really focus on not making an ass of myself in front of Strauss.” 

He laughs. His laughter makes you laugh, of course. It’s so much higher than his speaking register, so delightful in its unexpectedness. 

“Okay, okay.” You stop, covering your face with your hands. “Okay this is cheesy. Promise not to laugh.” 

His eyebrows rise and he forces his mouth into something that only threatens a dimple once more. 

“When you shook my hand in Radner’s office, there was this crazy jolt of energy or something that just flew up my arm. It was wild. I’ve never been able to forget it, almost like a flashbulb memory.”

As promised, he doesn’t laugh. There is, however, a kind of wonder in his eyes when he replies, “You felt that, too?”

+++

After dinner (and dessert), Aaron takes your hand and ushers you into the car when you leave the lod. He doesn’t turn the way you expect. 

“Where are we going?” 

The dashboard casts a glow on his face. You can still spot a dimple in the dark. “You’ll see.” 

+++

Your disbelief only grows when you go deeper into the city and pull up to the Hay-Adams. The valet opens the door for you, while Aaron hands over the keys to his SUV. Once all the details are covered, you take his arm again and let him guide you into the lobby. 

It’s expansive. The Hay-Adams is, of course, one of the most historic buildings in the district and considered one of the best hotels on the East Coast by people who know of these things. 

Aaron confirms the reservation and gets the room cards before promptly finding the elevator and swiping in for the seventh floor. You look down, remembering your attire at the last minute. 

“Aaron, I don’t have my go bag.” 

He shakes his head, still looking forward. “Don’t need it.” 

You scoff. 

He doubles down. “Do you trust me?”

Stupid question. 

“Of course.” 

“Go with it. I’m trying to spoil you.” He turns and presses his lips to yours, taking your face in his hand. Against your mouth, he says, “Let me.” 

+++

The room is gorgeous - a one bedroom suite with a living room, balcony, and kitchenette, a huge couch dominates the center of the open living area, opposite an impressive television. Through the open door, you catch a glimpse of a king-sized bed. 

This must have cost a small fortune. 

As if reading your mind, Aaron takes your hand and tugs you forward. You land against his chest and he smiles at you. “Don’t think too hard. Come with me.” 

You follow him out to the balcony and the view takes your breath away. The White House, well-lit in the D.C. nighttime, sits right across the street. From here, you can see Lafayette Square - beyond it, almost the whole city. 

When you come back to yourself, you realize there’s an outdoor loveseat and a small table, holding champagne (on ice) and chocolate-covered fruit. 

Champagne, chocolate, fancy dinner… The whole nine. 

Spoiled indeed. 

Aaron sits, pulling you down beside him. He pours two glasses of champagne - mostly for show, and moves the bucket to the ground. The fruit goes off to the side table and his feet go up on the small table, crossing at the ankles. You curl up against him, tucking under his arm. 

“Do you like it? Too much?” 

You can hear the genuine insecurity behind his cheeky question. You press a kiss to the back of his hand. “I love it. It is too much, but it’s very thoughtful. You twist to kiss the underside of his jaw. “Thank you.” 

With that, the two of you settle in, quietly enjoying the company and the quiet. It’s cold, but with the outdoor heater, it’s comfortable enough that you don’t need your coat. 

“Okay.” 

Aaron sits up. “Yes?” 

“You asked, so it’s only fair. No work, no kids, no serial killers. How are you?” 

He pulls you over so you’re sitting across his lap. You rest your head on his shoulder, your hand smoothing over the soft fabric of his button-up before placing it over his heart. 

“I’m good,” he says. “I’m really good.” 

“Why?” You feel a little like a parrot, but you’re sure that’s what he’s going for. 

“I can’t...quite articulate how lucky I feel.” 

That’s relatable. 

“I’m happy to be here with you.” He shakes his head - a pensive gesture. “I never thought I could make it here again.” 

“Where?” You ask. 

“In love, happy, facing a future that doesn’t scare me. My son is happy, safe...I wasn’t sure I'd ever have any of that again after losing Haley.” 

He pauses and you can feel a little sardonic smile. You don’t have to see it to know it’s there. His next admission, though, surprises you. 

“I accepted that I would be a bystander in your life a long time ago. I accepted that I would likely remain a widower, a single father. I knew you’d be around and that I would be your friend, but I made peace with the idea that I’d never have you right here.” He squeezes you twice, in time with his words. It makes you smile. 

He shakes his head and lets out a little laugh. “I’m not sure it’ll ever sink in.” 

You feel much the same, but it's kind of at once alarming and amusing to hear him so beautifully articulate feelings that so closely resemble your own. 

You lean back to look at him. “I’m glad you were wrong.”

He places a gentle finger under your chin and kisses you, long and languid. It’s a promise. After a little while, he leans back, brushing the back of his fingers over your cheek. 

“Me too.”

+++

tagging: @avengersbau @ambicaos @angelsbabey @arganfics @averyhotchner @bwbatta @capricorngf @cevanswhre @crazyshannonigans @criminalsmarts @deagibs @forgottenword @genevievedarcygranger @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @hurricanejjareau @joanofarkansass @kelstark @prentisswrites @little-blue-fishie @lotties-journey-abroad @mandylove1000 @missdowntonabbey @mrs-dr-reid @pan-pride-12 @popped-weasels @quillvine @qvid-pro-qvo @reidingmelodies @roses-and-grasses @shesbiochem4 @ssahotchnerr @ssaic-jareau @ssareidbby @starsandasteroids @stxrrywildflower @sunflowersandotherthings @sunshine-em @teamhappyme @this-broken-band-girl @ughitsbaby @unicorn-bitch @luciilferss @violet-amxthyst @word-scribbless @writefasttalkevenfaster @zizzlekwum @iconicc @avatarkorraswife @mooneylupinblack @ssworldofsw @nuvoleincielo @kaemarie23 @violentvulgarvolatile @abschaffer2 @ellyhotchner @rousethemouse @baumarvel @reidtomestyles @dreamsonthewall @jhiddles03 @willlemonheadsupremacy @infinity1321 @messyhairday-me @itsalwaysb33nyou @s-unflowxr @imlottiie @stummdummrumstehen @hqtchner @finnologys @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @hothothotchner @the-falling-in-the-danger @mac99martin @ssahotchner99 @vagabond-ing     @itsmytimetoodream @rebel-flying  @nuvoleincielo @rqgnarok @ssa-volturi @reidyoulikeabook @schlooper @itsmytimetoodream @bau-baby @ssagube @oreogutz @lexieshuntingsstuff @saintsmotels @hotchestie @marvelousmissmaggie @mosiacbrokenhearstf

[tossawary]

Chapter 28: “A Growing Family” of “pride is not the word I’m looking for” quotes and commentary. Not a full list of favorite quotes or full commentary.

-

The fact that Shen Qingqiu is waiting for them, just outside of Yue Qingyuan’s office, really doesn’t help the dread that Shang Qinghua is feeling here.

A stocky young woman is standing attentively beside the seated Peak Lord. This is that Fu Qiang character, one of Binghe’s favorite shijies on Qing Jing Peak, here to whisk Peerless Cucumber away for a one-to-one chat on the other transmigrator’s potential relationship to the House of Rejuvenation. Or maybe to give the kid a tutoring session on recovering memories from trauma or something! Shang Qinghua doesn’t know exactly, not having been invited to sit in.

“Shidi,” Shen Qingqiu greets coolly.

“Greetings, Shen-Shixiong,” Shang Qinghua returns, feeling sweaty already, but also weirdly giddy. He’s tempted to wink, but he’s pretty sure that would get him killed. “How are you? You look very well! Aha, how did those ‘other engagements’ go the other day? Meet with anyone? Have a good time?”

Over the top of his elegant fan, Shen Qingqiu immediately gives him a look that could probably kill a lesser man - or maybe a greater one, like someone who has more dignity and shame and whatever than Shang Qinghua does. Shang Qinghua doesn’t flinch. He assumes that the meeting with Yue Qingyuan went well! Which is great! Super great! If it had gone badly, he’s pretty sure that Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t even be setting foot on Qiong Ding Peak now - or at least would have been projecting “I’ll kill to get out of here and I’m mentally picking all my victims” hard enough to send all the Qiong Ding Peak disciples and cultivators off like panicked chickens.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Shen Qingqiu says, downright frosty now. “Shang-Shidi must have been paying too much attention to nonsense gossip again.”

“Ah, of course! Of course! My mistake, Shen-Shixiong! Please forgive me!”

Shang Qinghua looks to his fellow transmigrator next, to reintroduce them, only to find Shen Yuan making a very strange expression. Shen Yuan is looking between Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu kind of like he’s never seen them before. His mouth is even a little open and everything. It takes the kid a few seconds to realize that he has two Peak Lords staring at him and to swallow the strange expression.

- 

AN: Shen Yuan knows that 1) SQQ came to meet SQH personally immediately after their mission was over, 2) SQH stayed in bed the following day for a LONG time, and 3) SQH had a hickey on his neck. 

So when Shang Qinghua makes a reference to the meeting that SQQ had with Yue Qingyuan, almost flirtatiously asking if Shen Qingqiu “met with anyone” and “had a good time”, Shen Yuan is going to draw his own conclusions. 

Namely, that Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu might be sleeping together. 

After all, Shen Yuan doesn’t know about the YQY and SQQ backstory! Shen Yuan only knows that Shang Qinghua is weirdly friendly with PIDW’s most famous scum villain and that Shen Qingqiu apparently likes SQH enough not to be an asshole to Luo Binghe. Shang Qinghua kind of talks like they’re friend, so what if they’re... more than friends?! 

Meanwhile, Shang Qinghua cannot fathom anyone EVER considering that he and SHEN QINGQIU might be lovers. It’s not an idea that he is in a position to have because what the fuck?! 

I was tickled pink when I realized that things were in position to have the disciples think that Shangjiu is a thing. I was already planning on having them notice Shang Qinghua’s brand-new-relationship good mood. Shen Yuan may not notice when people are in love with HIM, but he did still read a twenty-million-word stallion web-novel, so he’s totally prepared to assume that secret affairs are happening for OTHER PEOPLE. 

- 

His fellow transmigrator hastily performs the appropriate greeting. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t reply beyond inclining his head, instead sweeping his eyes over Shen Yuan, who stands hilariously still like he’s facing down a predator, except for how the kid squints back a little at the Lord of Qing Jing Peak. Ha! That’s pretty fearless coming from someone still so unnerved by the man who would have Proud Immortal Demon Way’s most famous scum villain.

“Fu Qiang,” Shen Qingqiu says finally. “I have instructed Assistant Ma to set aside a private room for your discussion. You may take Disciple Shen there now.”

“Yes, Shizun.”

The other disciple gestures for Shen Yuan to follow and the other transmigrator hastily takes her up on that. As the disciples disappear, Shen Qingqiu rises and, without a word, leads Shang Qinghua into Yue Qingyuan’s office.

- 

AN: It’s tempting to try and make Shen Qingqiu and Shen Yuan actually develop more of a relationship than “passing acquaintance”, but the thing is that I can’t see either of them really going for it without being forced or without a very serious push. They’re both so prickly. 

- 

Yue Qingyuan greets him in a friendly manner, like he’s genuinely pleased to see Shang Qinghua and happy to help. Shang Qinghua greets the man in the same way. It’s nice! It also kind of feels like they’re both pretending the past few months of awkwardness, resentment, and avoidance never happened.

- 

AN: It felt a little more true to life and to the characters to have Shang Qinghua and Yue Qingyuan just... move forward instead of getting into their issues with each other and what apologies may be due. 

It’s kind of like a mutual: “What if we didn’t talk about it?” 

And they’re both like, “Oh, thank fuck.” 

I think that if they both brew on it a bit more, they may eventually decide to try to assuage their respective anger or guilt by saying something, but right now they’re feeling raw and/or embarrassed, and don’t want to accidentally get into it again. So they’ll talk about work! They always have work to talk about! Work is more important than personal matters, so they’re just going to pretend everything is fine! 

- 

It’s not just the System who won’t let the Immortal Alliance Conference not happen! But, ahhh, Shang Qinghua can still dream of them actually managing to convince Zhao Hua Temple Sect and everyone else to call the whole thing off. He can dream!

Yue Qingyuan has this pained expression that says, “You’re not wrong, but I wish you were.” This guy knows what Shang Qinghua is talking about!

Shen Qingqiu has this expression that says something like, “I can only critique the accuracy of your assessment on the grounds that you may be giving our fellow cultivators too much credit in terms of common sense and cooperation. This annoys me immensely.”

“You have put a great deal of thought into this,” Yue Qingyuan says finally. “You received this news… when exactly… again?”

“Ah, yesterday morning?” Shang Qinghua answers.

 “While in bed with a demon lord,” he doesn’t elaborate. Nope! Not elaborating!

“I know it’s not- I’ll try to get more information, but everyone is still in the planning stages, and it’s not easy getting any information!” Shang Qinghua says defensively. “But, even with that, I thought, ‘Ah, my shixiongs will probably want to know right away!’ Someone will need to tell Zhao Hua to take precautions, at least?”

Yue Qingyuan visibly regathers himself and says, “It is better to know these things as soon as possible. Thank you, Qinghua, for this forewarning.”

“He’s very good at knowing these things,” Shen Qingqiu agrees, but the man’s gaze is like a very sharp pin and Shang Qinghua is but a lowly insect under it. “When might you be expected to know more about this?”

“Ah, I’ll have to get in contact with… ah, some people I know.”

- 

AN: Of course YQY and SQQ want to know more about where SQH is getting this information, but for all they know he might just have gotten a tip-off from one of his merchant contacts or someone in the black market. This has been brewing for a while between these demon lords and the cultivation sects. It’s really bad news, but it’s also not really that surprising. 

According to the Airplane Extras, when MBJ and SQH meet, Airplane offhandedly mentions that Mobei-Jun’s clan and Huan Hua Palace Sect have a serious grudge from a conflict at a previous Immortal Alliance Conference. In PINTWILF, this conference is why the IACs got cancelled and had to be recently “revived”. The coming IAC is the 3rd since this revival.  

Shang Qinghua has proven himself reliable enough by this point that YQY and SQQ will let him keep his informants close to his chest. Between SQH’s years of improved services (helped by actually getting his personal disciples to help him) and SQH’s interference in their personal issues, they do actually trust him. 

So, yeah, they think he’s a squirmy little rat man. 

But he’s THEIR squirmy little rat man who has come through in times of need. Also, SQQ, for all his glaring, might stab YQY if he started giving SQH a hard time about this. Sometimes a shidi just wants you to back the fuck off, YQY! Let him have his secrets! Even though SQQ absolutely wants to know SQH’s secrets and is on the verge of dying of curiosity. 

I am VERY MUCH looking forward to them finding out that Shang Qinghua has a demon prince for a boyfriend. That’s going to be fun. 

- 

“I have also been… considering the advantages of lessons and between Peaks to encourage both cooperation and… survival skills,” Shen Qingqiu says next. “Rarely does one become a master of all disciplines - the Twelve Peaks allow for many of our sect to become specialists, masters of one art - but it seems unwise not to be learned in the basics of as many life-saving arts as one is able.”

“A diversity of learning can be very beneficial,” Yue Qingyuan agrees immediately.

“My disciple, Fu Qiang, has become a very adept medic over the years, though this was in the hopes of avoiding visiting Qian Cao Peak. The head disciples of An Ding, as I understand it, have sought to take special lessons from Qian Cao and Xian Shu to improve themselves."

 “Ah, that explains how Hongpeng spied on Peerless Cucumber back when the little bro was still in Mu Qingfang’s clutches,” Shang Qinghua thinks. “And, ah, Shen Bro, I don’t know how to tell you this, but Wenjiao goes to Xian Shu Peak mostly to moon over pretty girls, especially my little sister-in-law.”

"There is also the example of Qi-Shimei’s most frustrating disciple, who must be routinely dragged away from Bai Zhan, but who has also apparently helped to improve her fellow Xian Shu disciples’ martial abilities.”

 "Ah, that's one of putting Qi Qingqi letting Luo Fanli and Liu Mingyan fight each other in order to hopefully wear them both out," Shang Qinghua thinks.

“Even if demons should not attack, though only a limited number of our disciples will be attending the Immortal Alliance Conference, it would nevertheless be beneficial to ensure that all disciples across the sect are well-equipped to keep themselves alive until the specialists arrive,” Shen Qingqiu finishes. “Shang-Shidi, as one of the most well-connected leading members of our sect, the organization of such an initiative would be best left in your hands.”

- 

AN: Okay, so I know that this is kind of a weird thing to be coming from Shen Qingqiu, but he’s grown a bit over the course of this fic! AND he’s totally coming at it from the perspective of: “I don’t have to cooperate or get along with anyone beyond what I’m doing now.” 

So SQQ is like, “My disciples are stupid. We should have more field medics.” 

And he’s like, “Some people’s disciples can’t fight for shit and we should make sure they know more self-defense.” 

And he’s like, “Liu Qingge’s disciples are animals. Someone at least teach them how to protect other disciples and how to not bleed to death, because he won’t. That man doesn’t teach them anything.” 

And he’s like, “Shang Qinghua, you do that. I don’t want to.” 

- 

Peerless Cucumber’s conversation with Shen Qingqiu’s disciple is long over, but apparently his fellow transmigrator didn’t just leave afterwards. Yue Qingyuan’s youngest assistant intercepts to politely point Shang Qinghua towards their waiting room. Shen Yuan is asleep in a chair, with one of his cultivation manuals open in his lap. Judging by his pose, Shang Qinghua is going to guess that the kid was trying some kind of meditation and ended up taking a nap by accident.

It happens to the best of them sometimes! Or at least to Shang Qinghua!

“Ah, I told you not to wait on me. Come on, bro, I don’t want to have to carry you back,” Shang Qinghua says, while jostling the kid awake. “You’re too big for that. My nephew is too big for that these days. Just because it would be nostalgic for me and just because I can doesn’t mean that I want to be carrying you around like a sack of vegetables.”

- 

AN: If Shang Qinghua can haul Mobei-Jun around, then he could pick up Shen Yuan no problem. Also, this is the bit where I was like, “Wow, I have very much made SQH into SY’s dad here.” 

Even SVSSS SQH gives me Uncle Vibes, to be honest. The man wants to pop into Bingqiu’s life, ask some nosy questions, be treated to a free meal (who doesn’t), tell some bad jokes, offer some terrible advice, complain about his workload, and then flounce off again with his boyfriend. SVSSS SQH seems to like being useful and appreciated and part of the group, but in a way where he’s not directly attached to anyone, you know? Give SVSSS SQH the benefits, but none of the responsibilities! 

- 

Shang Qinghua is kind of sick of this roundabout conversation and decides to bring out the big guns: a move taught to him by his extremely powerful sister-in-law, who has effortlessly defeated their resident War God. He knows the effectiveness of this technique personally, because Luo Jiahui has used it to defeat him many times. He puts on the best concerned face he has.

“Yuan,” he says seriously, looking the kid directly in the eye. “I’m not making jokes here about not skipping out on cultivating. It’s not always going to be fun - a lot of the time, it’s going to be pretty embarrassing and a little painful. Bro, I was an adult stuck in a teenage body, regularly getting my ass handed to me by actual teenagers. That was awful. But I really need you to keep doing it, even if you don’t become the next War God ready to challenge the protagonist, because I don’t want you to die. This shitty world isn’t safe. And if you want to be involved in these missions, then I need you to be able to carry yourself, or we’re both going to get trampled by some OP monster wandering out of an advanced chapter early instead of fixing anything here.”

Shen Yuan is having difficulty meeting his eyes. He keeps trying to force himself to look at Shang Qinghua and then looking away again automatically.

Shang Qinghua employs another of his sister-in-law’s immensely powerful techniques: he reaches out and puts a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “I will tell you stuff when I have stuff to tell you and when I can tell it to you. You’ve been super helpful, I’m going to need your help in the future, but I need you to be a little patient right now too.”

Shen Yuan nods. “...Fine.”

-

AN: Shang Qinghua: “I can’t believe that I’m tricking this person into thinking I’m a good person by being nice to them and looking after them and doing good things. I have learned this behavior for TRICKING PURPOSES only and have NOT accidentally adopted yet another kid.” 

- 

Shang Qinghua can’t answer the question right now! Leave a message!

He’s too busy replaying all the times he’s seen his nephew and his fellow transmigrator interact. Binghe did ask after Shen Yuan every time that he and Shang Qinghua talked, while the other transmigrator was on Qian Cao and after he came to An Ding, but… Shang Qinghua just thought his nephew was being polite and curious? Peerless Cucumber stands out! Binghe didn’t act too weirdly about it!

Luo Binghe is supposed to be a stallion protagonist with 600 wives!

Although… Shang Qinghua’s nephew has never really shown any interest in that kind of thing. Which Shang Qinghua has been pretty glad about! He doesn’t want to have 600 nieces-in-law! He also doesn’t want that for his nephew!

The protagonist of Proud Immortal Demon Way ’s harem was basically a snake pit of drama and desperation and decaying fantasies. For everyone who could read between the lines of empty papapa to see Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky’s tragic story of resentment and revenge, it wouldn’t be inaccurate to say the tyrannical, broken protagonist was like a black hole, dragging everyone else into orbit around this man who couldn’t really love anyone! You can take a blackened protagonist out of the Eternal Abyss, but you can’t take that abyss out of the blackened protagonist, right?

The original Luo Binghe didn’t take wives because he was in love. He took wives because he could! Because they were beautiful or powerful or useful! Because he pitied them! Because he liked being their savior! Because he didn't want anyone else to have them! Because he liked being an object of envy and desire and love! Because it was expected of him, as the man all the readers wanted to be, who was supposed to have everything a man could ever want!

 “...Ah, there are… some implications there,” Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky realizes, remembering just how half-hearted most of that harem bullshit was. “Maybe a bent man wrote a kind of bent protagonist by accident? Who knows?”

“Da-Ge?” Fanli says. “Da-Ge, didn’t you know?”

- 

AN: I’ve said this before, but there’s a meta argument to be made in regards to Luo Binghe and obligatory heterosexuality. 

Also, from what I remember, Airplane didn’t actually seem to care too much about Luo Binghe being interested in Shen Yuan. In the Airplane Extras, Airplane says that in the original version of PIDW that he never got to write, Luo Binghe actually ended up totally alone at the end of the story. He was apparently planning a pretty downer ending for Luo Binghe. But Luo Binghe ended up getting a huge harem instead because that’s what the readers wanted! 

So, my impression is, that when SVSSS Airplane first realizes that LBH is into men (and into SQQ specifically), he does a little bit of self-reflection and also reflection on PIDW, then just goes, “Huh. That makes... sense.” 

- 

“Though, aha, I can’t remember Shen-Shixiong ever really not being kind of angry at me and I’m not dead yet. I had to talk really fast sometimes, but I lived! Now go away.”

When Shang Qinghua looks up, all of his disciples are staring at him. They all look surprised, except for Shen Yuan, who looks embarrassed. Shang Qinghua would guess that someone cracked a dirty joke, but that doesn’t seem right.

"What?"

“...Shifu, how long have you known Shen-Shibo?” Chen Xuan asks.

“Since we were disciples? Ah, I think he hated me at first sight.”

“But you’re close now?” Lin Wenjiao blurts out.

“Closer, ” Shang Qinghua agrees warily. “Aha, don’t think that any of you can ask me for favors to do with Shen Qingqiu or Qing Jing Peak too! That’s not happening! Disciple Luo, Shen, get out of here before you give my disciples any more weird ideas.”

- 

AN: Okay, so what happened is that as soon as Luo Fanli and Shang Qinghua left the room, Shen Yuan was like, “...Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu are... very close? Are they...?” 

And SQH’s disciples are like, “Holy shit, are you asking if SQH and SQQ are romantically involved?!” And SQH’s disciples laugh in SY’s face because that’s RIDICULOUS. Which makes SY really embarrassed and defensive! SQH’s disciples ask why he would EVER think a thing like that. 

SY provides the evidence. It’s a reasonable conclusion! 

And then SQH’s disciples are like, “...Holy shit?!” 

And then SY is like, “Wait, maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned that.” 

But it’s too late. SQH’s disciples are already putting all the evidence together and there is SO MUCH EVIDENCE of something going on there. 

I know I refer to this ship as “Shangjiu”, but that’s mostly just to specify which Shen Qingqiu and I doubt that anyone in Cang Qiong Mountain Sect dares to call SQQ “Jiu” besides YQY. They’d probably actually end up calling it something along the lines of “The Premise” like original Star Trek: The Original Series Kirk/Spock shippers. (See Fanlore or something for more info on that.) 

Again, SQH cannot... CONCEIVE of them conceiving this idea. 

-

By the time that Mobei-Jun shows up at his Leisure House, Shang Qinghua is a little on the edge! Honestly, he’s kind of off the edge, dangling from a very thin branch just underneath the cliff’s edge, and that thin branch is making some very concerning noises! Sure, at least the demon lord isn’t late, but Shang Qinghua is suddenly reminded of just how intimidating Mobei-Jun looks! Also, he’s cleaned up his house and knows his sister-in-law knows he’s kind of a slob sometimes, but he’s so sure that she’s still going to judge his cleaning job! What if she blames Mobei-Jun for it? (She’d be right to blame him a little! The man can be kind of lazy and messy sometimes too!)

A cool hand at Shang Qinghua’s hip prevents him from walking around in circles, repositioning disobedient cushions and offending tables. Shang Qinghua looks up at Mobei-Jun, who moves his hand to where Shang Qinghua’s neck meets shoulder.

“Stop it,” Mobei-Jun says.

- 

AN: It’s really funny thinking about how all of Mobei-Jun’s gentle and affectionate behaviors towards SQH are totally learned. This does not come naturally to the man. If SQH was having a panic attack, Mobei-Jun’s first (panicked) instinct would be to bark at him to stop it. 

- 

“It’s just… Jiahui is… it didn’t have to be this way for us? I would have just helped her get to safety and left her to live her life without me, but she didn’t let that happen, even though her family wasn’t any good either, so why would she want another one?” Shang Qinghua tries to explain. “She chose me? She looked out for me. She helped me understand a lot of things. Even though she probably could have picked anyone else. I don’t really know where I’d be right now if she didn’t? Ah, probably… not talking to or trusting anyone ever? You remember what things used to be like.”

“Yes.”

“I’ve never really liked any of the sisters I’ve had before very much,” Shang Qinghua admits. “Ah, but they didn’t like me either, so it worked. Anyway! It’s… important to me that things work out now because…”

 “I don’t want to choose,” Shang Qinghua doesn’t say.

He clears his throat instead.

“Qinghua.”

Shang Qinghua forces himself to look up from his hands on Mobei-Jun’s collar.

“I am glad that you were not without someone to trust,” Mobei-Jun says, though it sounds like it takes effort. “Your sister has nothing to fear from me.”

Mobei-Jun has already made this promise, but it’s good to hear it again.

“Thank you, my king. I’ll, ah- I should go get her now.”

-

AN: Mobei-Jun is jealous. He is very, VERY jealous. 

BUT Mobei-Jun can also see some parallels here. Luo Jiahui is to Shang Qinghua in many ways what Shang Qinghua is to him. Mobei-Jun understands the importance of this relationship and of this person. He understands that Jiahui and SQH’s relationship is not romantic, of course, and understands her to be the “head of the family”, so he has to force himself not to act on his jealousy. 

I think that a part of Mobei-Jun might see jealousy as something very negative? Thinking about what I said about Mobei-Jun’s hang-ups surrounding consent and possessiveness possibly originating with his father being a wife-stealer, Mobei-Jun can’t act on his jealousy for the same reasons that he needs Shang Qinghua to make the first explicit moves. He wants Shang Qinghua to choose him and to choose him of his own free will. 

So, he’s jealous when he hears about how LJH chose SQH and SQH chose LJH, but he can’t act on it because 1) he loves SQH and 2) he’s (possibly unconsciously) terrified of becoming his father and creating resentment that will ripple out into his family potentially for generations. 

- 

It’s so, so weird to see his human sister-in-law sitting across from a demon lord. Luo Jiahui is not a tall woman and her cultivation is very good these days, but she’s not a warrior. Seeing the height and width differences side-by-side make them really obvious! Mobei-Jun is at least twice Shang Qinghua’s sister-in-law’s size! He has to be easily twice her weight!

When Luo Jiahui puts food in front of Mobei-Jun, Shang Qinghua gets huge “I dare you to not eat my food” messages! It took a really long time before Mobei-Jun seemed to accept that Shang Qinghua really wouldn’t take every available opportunity to hand him poison. Thankfully, however, Mobei-Jun has eaten Luo Jiahui’s food before! Shang Qinghua has shared his sister-in-law's food with the demon lord! Shang Qinghua also communicated beforehand that Mobei-Jun has to eat the food. No matter what!

So, Mobei-Jun eats the food and Shang Qinghua breathes a sigh of relief. Mobei-Jun even goes so far as to tell Luo Jiahui that she’s a good cook (above and beyond social interaction! Also delivered kind of awkwardly!), which his sister-in-law accepts with thanks (and also maybe just a little bit as her rightful due).

Luo Jiahui already knows the basics of Mobei-Jun: that he’s an ice demon, the son of the Northern Demon King, and he’s going to be the next Northern Demon King. She already knows that he’s a warrior and that his time is mostly spent tending to his duties, usually on his father’s behalf. She even knows that demon families can be kind of violently competitive and that Mobei-Jun’s family is no exception.

So, when she finally decides to speak seriously, she says, “My brother is very important to me. I have told him that if he is happy, then I’m happy for him. He has told me that you are very important to him.”

- 

AN: Mobei-Jun is going to hold that revelation close to his chest for WEEKS. Shang Qinghua said that Mobei-Jun is very important to him! 

Juggling the tension of this scene was weird. 

Because, like, Mobei-Jun is not a kind or a gentle or a good person. He’s disdainful of humanity. It’s kind of a mindfuck for him to be having a meal with a strange human who is not of the things he has been raised to respect. 

Meanwhile, Luo Jiahui is fucking terrified of Mobei-Jun, dislikes him, and doesn’t want to like him. He’s a stranger who could destroy her family. He looks kind of monstrous. He acts strangely. 

But they HAVE TO BE CIVIL to each other for Shang Qinghua’s sake. 

So they are. 

Mobei-Jun tries not to make any scary moves around the soft human. 

Luo Jiahui tries to act like MBJ is a normal person and to be polite. 

They are both very out of their depth. 

- 

“...Shang Qinghua saved my life,” Mobei-Jun says, which is the first time he’s spoken without someone else speaking to him first. “Many times, he has done this.”

Luo Jiahui sets down her teacup, listening expectantly.

“Even when I did not trust him, and he did not trust me, Qinghua has always provided shelter and safety,” Mobei-Jun says slowly, solemnly. “Medicine, when I have been injured. Direction, when I have been lost. Company and loyalty. This is rare.”

“Yes,” Luo Jiahui agrees.

“The trust I have put in him has never been betrayed.”

Shang Qinghua kind of feels like he’s overheating here - like maybe his heart is melting! Mobei-Jun as a character has always prized loyalty above all! “I had no fucking clue,” he thinks. “Honestly, how the FUCK did I have no fucking clue?! Hindsight is incredible!”

“I would not betray him,” Mobei-Jun says, looking to Shang Qinghua directly. “My life has been his since the day we met.”

Shang Qinghua tries not to melt even more. Mobei-Jun is supposed to be an ice demon! What the hell is this?! It’s unfair! It’s embarrassing! It’s too much!

“...Good,” Luo Jiahui says, determinedly. “I’m happy to hear that. My hard-working brother needs someone to appreciate and cherish him.”

“Yes.”

- 

AN: Mobei-Jun is like, “Humans use words. I need to use words. I need to be direct about this because humans are bad at understanding things.” 

And Luo Jiahui is like, “Oh my, you are very intense. Okay.” 

- 

Mobei-Jun nods. “I did not think a human would ever care for a demon child.”

Luo Jiahui frowns a little. “Oh?”

“I admire this,” Mobei-Jun amends, frowning back. “I do not know how humans are raised. It is good that your child has never had to doubt his safety here.”

“...Of course.”

“It is clear that your child is loved beyond his bloodline.”

“Of course,” Luo Jiahui insists, with an offended note in her voice. “When I found Binghe in that river, I didn’t know he was part demon, but I would have taken him in anyway! Whoever the parent is, whatever the parent has done, it’s never the baby’s fault. Even if a parent has done something wrong, then babies shouldn’t suffer for it. All children should be cherished.”

Luo Jiahui’s voice breaks a little, her eyes turning wet. Shang Qinghua fumbles for a handkerchief to offer his sister-in-law, which she accepts gratefully.

He wonders if she’s thinking about her stillborn baby. She doesn’t talk about her other baby very often, but she does sometimes. She told him once that she observes that day. It’s something that she insists on doing alone.

“...I was left in the human world as a young child,” Mobei-Jun says.

Shang Qinghua’s head snaps up. He knows that, but that’s because he wrote that. He has never, ever heard Mobei-Jun talk about it before.

“Oh, no,” Luo Jiahui says.

“I was nearly killed by humans,” Mobei-Jun informs them.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Luo Jiahui says.

“It was my uncle’s doing. He wishes to see me dead.” Mobei-Jun says this like it’s just another fact of life, not even an upsetting one, which kind of makes it one of the saddest fucking things that Shang Qinghua has ever heard the man say.

“That’s terrible,” Luo Jiahui says vehemently. “How rotten.”

Mobei-Jun blinks at her. His expression is still solemn, but the pause seems surprised.

Shang Qinghua almost wants to shrug. Yep, his sister-in-law is just like this!

“I have promised Qinghua that I will protect your son,” Mobei-Jun says to her. “I make you the same promise now.”

“...Thank you.”

- 

AN: Mobei-Jun is like, “I understand you to be one of the rare humans who is not a piece of shit and who would have saved me as a child. I respect this. I don’t fucking understand it, but I understand you should be protected and that your child should be protected. I am doing this for Shang Qinghua and not because I have any personal issues surrounding the endangerment of demon children.” 

Luo Jiahui is like, “Oh, he’s soft inside! He’ll protect my Binghe. Okay, I like him now. I didn’t want to, but anyone who basically professes to be willing to die for my child and my brother has my reluctant approval.” 

- 

Shang Qinghua can’t help it. The energy in here is so weird! He laughs.

“My king, have you had that all this time?”

Mobei-Jun doesn’t say anything, he just frowns.

“Clearly he was waiting to return it in person, Houhua,” Luo Jiahui admonishes. “It’s not his fault that you took so long introducing us or surely he would have returned it sooner. Don’t make it out to be impolite.”

Mobei-Jun gives Shang Qinghua’s sister-in-law an approving look.

- 

AN: Mobei-Jun is like, “Oh, she’s smarter than Qinghua. Good. (Not that my Shang Qinghua isn’t very clever, but he’s an idiot.)” 

- 

And sometimes it’s just nice to take a minute to sit back, relax, and see his disciples daring their shidi, his fellow transmigrator, to chug the spiciest soup on the menu.

“Ah, kids,” Shang Qinghua says to Luo Jiahui.

Luo Jiahui is making a very concerned expression as her sisters, Shang Qinghua’s head disciples, and even Liu Mingyan chant: “Chug! Chug! Chug!” Yeah, he should probably stop them! But why would he? If anyone throws up from this, he’ll just appear out of nowhere to scare the shit out of all of them and then make them clean it up. It’s fine. He says as much to Luo Jiahui.

“They’re old enough to know better,” she says, but she looks fond now. “Their shifu should have taught them better manners, hm?”

“Hey! Only… four of those are mine.”

- 

AN: Friends for Shen Yuan! Friends for Shen Yuan! 

Also SQH being like, “Oh, fuck, I really have too many kids.” 

- 

Luo Jiahui sighs wistfully. “It is nice having children in here again, even big ones who are supposed to be adults now. I’m so proud of how Binghe has grown, but I miss when he was little. I miss when I could pick him up and carry him around. Uncle Han’s daughter brought her new baby in yesterday. He was so cute!”

“Aha, don’t steal a baby to fill the empty nest, please!”

Luo Jiahui swats him. “I wouldn’t do something like that!” she insists, cheeks flushing pink.

- 

AN: Baby?! Baby for Luo Jiahui and Liu Qingge?! Maybe! 

[megaera-of-pigeon]

[Shining Nikki fan fiction, 3,447 words, superhero au concept courtesy of @deadcereus. Janus content courtesy of @just-love-nikki-things] 

Mercury stood outside of the door. In one arm, he was carrying a duffle bag stuffed so full it was straining at its zipper. In the other, he h​​eld a top-of-the-line luxury cat carrier. As he brought a fist up to knock on the door, he glanced down into the cat-carrier and caught the glowing golden topazes that were his cat’s eyes looking up at him.

He bit his lip and slowly lowered his fist. Was he really ready to do this?

It was much too soon, wasn’t it?

Did he really need to go to this conference?

Before he could manage to second guess his decision and get out of the building before he was spotted, the door flew open.  

“Mercury! You’re late! That’s unlike you.”

Mercury managed to tear his eyes away from Janus’ and meet the gaze of his younger half-sister. “Ophelia,” he nodded to her, banishing any trace of worry and allowing his face to settle into its comfortable frown. “Traffic was backed up.”

“Oh, no! The morning you’re to leave on your big exciting trip, too! Well, come on in; I’m all ready to see my pretty little nephew Janny-poo!”

Mercury bristled as he stepped into the apartment and kicked the door shut behind him. “I’ve told you not to call him that.”

Ophelia just grinned. “He likes it, though! Don’t you, Janny-poo?”

The cat in question, who’d been calmly sitting in his carrier for most of the journey like the well-behaved little gentleman he was, had perked up at the sound of Ophelia’s voice, and now started to claw at the fabric and meow in indignation. Mercury heaved a sigh and knelt down so that he could set the carrier on the floor and unzip the door. The second there was enough space open for Janus to get out, he scrambled his way out of confinement and dashed across the floor to jump into Ophelia’s waiting arms.

“Oh, I’ve missed you too, my little angel!” Ophelia cooed as she cuddled his cat into her chest and stroked his head. For his part, Janus seemed to return her greeting with a loud, rumbling purr. Mercury did his best to stamp down his jealousy at how openly affectionate his cat was acting towards his sister. It was just a fact of life that everyone loved Ophelia—animals, small children, all of their relatives. She couldn’t walk down the block without finding something or someone to befriend. It was her naivete that held the effortless charm that drew everyone in, and he’d long outgrown his envy of that particular characteristic. He had honed his own brand of ‘charm’ that served him just as well, after all.

As Mercury stood up and slid Janus’ bag off his shoulder, he happened to notice that unlike the last time he’d visited Ophelia’s apartment, there were about a dozen pairs of shoes sitting next to the front door. Several of them appeared to be thin, strappy heels, which didn't suit his sister’s style. He furrowed his brow and glanced around, and noticed some other things that had escaped his notice before: two coats hanging on the hooks; two purses sitting on the table. That was twice as many as one young woman needed.

“Is there someone else here?” He asked, gesturing towards the purses. She’d have told him if there was a girlfriend in the picture, and his sister didn’t strike him as the type to do a one night stand, so he was having trouble coming up with a logical explanation….

Ophelia’s shoulder tensed as she leaned down and released Janus, who strutted off to begin his inspection of the apartment. When she stood back up, her face had gone blank.

“Uh, yes. There is. Didn’t I mention? I have a roommate now. She moved in two weeks ago.”

Mercury gaped at her. “A roommate?” He’d never have agreed to leave Janus in an apartment with a stranger! He’d have at least had a background check done at first! “Please tell me one of your friends from London moved here and needed a place to stay, or something like that, and that you didn’t invite a random person to come live with you!”

Ophelia tucked some of her hair behind her ear and glanced at the floor. “Um. Well. I put up some flyers…”

Mercury took a deep breath and then exhaled as slowly as he could, but when he finally spoke, it was through gritted teeth. “Where did you put them up? How many were there? And what personal information were you publicly advertising?”

“I put up maybe half a dozen here and there… you know, the coffee shops down by the college, the student center, places like that. I just had my first name and phone number, not my address! They had to call for that—”

“You’re getting a new phone number,” he said firmly, glaring at her. “God, Ophelia, how could you be so foolish? Do you even know what types of dangerous people lurk in this town? For all you know, this ‘roommate’ of yours is one of them!”

“Calm down, Ashley is fine. And I’m not changing my phone number, that’s such a hassle!”

“We can talk about it later,” Mercury said firmly, although he was already planning on instructing his assistant to take care of changing his sister’s number once he made it to the airport. “Tell me why you decided to get a roommate in the first place. We never discussed this as an option when you were moving here.”

Ophelia shrugged, still refusing to meet his eyes. “I’ve been struggling to make the rent on this place with my budget. I can’t move to a cheaper part of town, because if my mum comes to visit and my living situation is not up to her standards, I’d never hear the end of it! You know how she is, she’d have me moving back to London before I could even defend my choices!”

“If you need money, you are to come to me,” he said sternly. “Taking care of your rent would be nothing to me, but instead you neglect to tell me there’s an issue and decide to invite a stranger off the street into your home? How irresponsible can you get!”

Ophelia scoffed. “You’re right, it would have been nothing to you. What about for me? I can’t come running to my brother to fix every little problem I have for the rest of my life, now can I? I’m an adult, I need to find my own solutions to things. That’s being responsible. The solution to making rent on this ridiculously huge apartment that you found for me is to split the burden with a roommate!”

Mercury opened his mouth to continue berating Ophelia for her ridiculous views on something as trivial as asking for his help, but before he could, his watch beeped, notifying him that he was running out of time to get going and make his flight. Despite his personal, feline-related reluctance to leave the city right now, this conference was one he couldn’t afford to miss. He’d have to deal with Ophelia’s roommate situation when he got back… although there was one thing that had to happen. “Where is this ‘Ashley’? I need to meet her before I leave Janus here.”

“Is that really necessary—?”

“The other solution is for you to go pack a bag right now, and go stay with Janus at my house for the week. I am not leaving my cat in the hands of someone I’ve never met!”

Ophelia glared back at him for a long minute, before finally sighing and looking over her shoulder. “Hey, Ashley,” she called. “Can you come here?”

A moment later, light footsteps sounded down the hall as the mysterious roommate approached. “What do you need now? Is your brother gone yet?”

The owner of the voice turned out to be a slender young woman with long, dark hair, and large, bright blue eyes. With her high cheekbones, symmetrical facial features, and full, red-tinted lips, she’d be considered conventionally attractive in most people’s estimation—but most people were incapable of looking past a surface appearance and judging what truly lurked beneath. And Mercury happened to know first hand that this woman’s angelic beauty was all a lie; she was none other than Lilith, a master manipulator and a scourge he’d thought he banished from his city long ago.

For her part, Lilith looked just as surprised to see him as he was to see her. Her eyes grew wide as she glanced between Mercury and Ophelia, and Mercury could almost see the wheels turning in her scheming little brain. After a moment though, her neutral mask fell back into place and she stuck out her hand. “You must be the big brother I’ve heard far too little about. I’m Ashley; I moved in with Ophelia not too long ago.”

“Ashley?” He tried a smile, so as not to make Ophelia suspicious of any prior involvement with her new ‘roommate’, but he couldn’t stop it from turning into a sneer as he shook her hand, squeezing more firmly than was strictly necessary. “And what brings you here?”

A sneer of her own pulled at Lilith’s lips as she returned his iron handshake with just as much force. “Just a job. I won’t bore you with the details; from what I hear, you’re quite busy. Don’t you have somewhere to be?” She nodded to the door behind him, and he decided that her smug little dismissal wasn’t going to do at all.

He dropped her hand and stepped back, his eyes never leaving Lilith’s. “Ophelia; I’d like to have a word with Ashley for a moment. I just need to make her understand the responsibility that comes with living in the same apartment as my… cat.”

Ophelia glanced between the two of them and seemed hesitant to leave them alone, but he gave her a pointed stare, and that was enough for her to clear her throat. “Alright, I’ll just go find Janus wherever he’s wandered off to so you can say goodbye. Uh. Be nice.”

Once his sister had disappeared further into her apartment, Mercury stepped closer to Lilith again so he could tower over her and hiss into her ear. “What the fuck are you playing at? You moved in with my sister?”

“Well I didn’t know she was your sister until two minutes ago,” Lilith snapped, taking a step back and crossing her arms while glaring up at him. “Trust me, if I had, I definitely wouldn’t have signed the damn lease.”

Mercury glared at her for a minute, trying to decide if he should believe her. Because honestly, what were the odds that his old, forgotten rival would move in with one of his family members? Although, no one at the League besides his assistant even knew he had a sister, as he’d hidden her existence for years, and Ophelia didn’t know what he actually did for a living, so it was somewhat plausible that this was just an unhappy accident. In either case…

“You’ll have to move out immediately.”

Lilith gaped at him. “What? No way! I just finished unpacking yesterday, and I already did all the paperwork—I can’t afford to break a lease!”

Mercury narrowed his eyes. “So whatever ‘job’ lured you back to my city doesn’t even pay well? I’m very curious to know the details.”

She scoffed and flipped her head to send her curtain of dark hair back back over her shoulder. “My life these days is none of your business, actually. As is who I’ve chosen to be my roommate. Trust me, I’m not stupid enough to do anything to your precious little kitten while Ophelia is catsitting. So you can go ahead and go now. We wouldn’t want you to miss your big photo op with the UN.”

“Your life became my business when you chose to involve yourself in my sister’s affairs,” he said through gritted teeth. “And that’s another thing—you can not say a word to Ophelia about our past or reveal my secret identity.”

Lilith blinked several times. “Wait… she doesn’t know that you’re Silver Boy?”

“It’s Silver Bullet now,” he snapped. “And no, she does not; I don’t like to bring my work home with me. She’s clueless, and she will stay that way if you know what’s good for you.”

Lilith furrowed her brow, but nodded slowly. “My past is dead and buried, so she won’t hear it from me.”

Mercury pursed his lips, but glanced at his watch. He would have preferred to keep talking so he could get more information about Lilith’s sudden return as well as impress upon her further the importance of keeping his secret from Ophelia, but he really had to get going this time.

“Hey, are you two done yet?” Ophelia asked as she entered the room again, this time with a wriggling Janus in her arms. “I thought you had a flight to catch.”

“I’ll have to leave in a minute,” Mercury confirmed, stepping closer to take Janus from her so he could say goodbye. Learning that Ophelia had a roommate and then Lilith’s reappearance had distracted him from his previous worries, but now they all came rushing back as he was moments away from stepping out the door. Janus leaned his head into Mercury’s chest and purred softly, and all Mercury could think of was how he was abandoning his son. They hadn’t been apart for any extended period of time since Janus had come home with him! If Lilith hadn’t been standing there, he would have told Janus that he loved him very much and would be back soon, that he was sorry to have to go and would rather just stay with him. As it was, he simply squeezed his eyes shut and pressed a firm kiss atop Janus’ head in between his ears.

“Cute cat you’ve got there,” Lilith said, and Mercury glared at her again. “How old is he?”

“About six months,” Ophelia answered as she reached out to stroke Janus’ fur. “Mercury found him when he was a kitten. Isn’t he just the best little boy?”

“You found a kitten six months ago, huh? I just bet there’s some great pictures of the two of you together back then.” Lilith smirked at him, and Mercury knew that she’d just figured it out. His grip on Janus tightened.

About six months ago, he—well, the superhero known as Silver Bullet—had raided an underground lab belonging to the evil scientist known as Gray Raven. After the fight, the League’s Media Liaison had shown up and had him pose for pictures holding some of the rescued animal test subjects—including a very young black kitten. After the photos, the League’s cleanup crew had taken all of the animals away so the results of Gray Raven’s experiments could be professionally monitored. It wasn’t until he’d gotten home that night that he’d realized the tiny black kitten he’d posed with had somehow snuck its way into his bag as he was leaving, and fallen asleep!

He should have notified his handlers immediately and turned the kitten over to the League like the rest of the rescued animals, but… he couldn’t bring himself to part with the little guy. So the kitten was named Janus and became his companion, and no one at work needed to know he’d gotten a cat. Ophelia had only found out after an unannounced visit shortly after that, which he’d never regretted, at least until now. Her mother had allowed her to have cats and other pets while growing up, an indulgence their father never allowed for him, so she had been able to fill him in on some of the knowledge he was lacking. It also meant that he didn’t have to trust a stranger in his home or consider boarding his precious cat when compelled to travel for work.

If he’d known Lilith would be in the picture, though…  

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he knew it would be his assistant checking up on him to make sure he was on track to make his schedule. There really was no more time to linger.

Mercury sighed as he released Janus and tried to brush some of the cat hair off of his suit. He kept a lint roller in his car, so the rest of the evidence would be gone by the time he made it to the airport. “I really need to go now, but this discussion isn’t over,” he said, glancing at Lilith before fixing his gaze on Ophelia, who had the good sense to appear guilty about the shock she’d put him through at such an inopportune time. “I’ll see you in a week. Behave yourselves until then.” After a forced smile and quick hug from Ophelia, he turned and left. With every step he took away from the door, he was regretting his decision. It had been hard enough to agree to this when it was just leaving his cat with his sister, but now she was there!

He swore to himself that if any harm came to his cat or his sister and he could find the slightest bit of fault with her, then that demon woman would have hell to pay.

X

“So.” Ashley was standing with her arms crossed and was glaring at the door that Mercury had vanished through just minutes ago. “Your brother is Silver Boy.”

Ophelia took a deep breath and stood up from where she’d knelt to comfort Janus, who had started mewling in protest when his dad left, but had quickly been soothed when she dug out some cat treats from his bag. “Well he’s the Silver Bullet, now. The League rebranded him when he turned twenty.”

Ashley rolled her eyes. “Right. Rebranding. I’m forever thankful I ditched the League before I had to go through my own stupid ‘image update’. But regardless of what he goes by these days, did it not occur to you that this fact might be something I needed to know? We’re supposed to be partners!”

Ophelia crossed her arms to match Ashely’s stance. “You’re the one who said that just because we’re assigned partners doesn’t mean we’ve got to spill all of our secrets! You weren’t supposed to meet him in the first place, I told you to move your stuff from the entryway and keep quiet while he was here!”

She scoffed. “I forgot, ok? But this is a pretty big secret, a little heads up might have been nice! And he thinks you don’t know? What’s that about?”

“He and dad always made such a big effort to keep their identities from me when I came to visit, I didn’t have the heart to tell them mum had spilled the beans ages ago. So I played dumb… and so they just keep assuming that I am dumb. Anyway, it works to our advantage now, right? If I had been part of his Super world when my powers showed up, there’s no way I’d get a chance to complete the Justicar Trial with you. I know him; he’d have me carted off to the League and working as a registered Superhero on his team faster than you could say ‘Solar Flare’!”

“Right. Does Zoey know?”

“Zoey knows everything,” Ophelia confirmed, and Ashley finally relaxed her arms and shook her head.

“Well, as long as Ms. Butterfly is in on it, I suppose I can’t complain. She’ll have made all her little plans with him in mind. Your brother has no idea you’re powered?”

“None whatsoever, and it’s going to stay that way for as long as possible.” Ophelia tried to fix Ashley with a fierce stare to let her know Ophelia meant business. She knew she wasn’t nearly as capable of intimidation as her brother, but she had picked up a few things from him.

Ashley just scoffed. “No need to worry about him hearing it from me; I’d have been happy never to see his face again, and shall strive to avoid him as much as humanly possible while living with his sister. Next question: that cat. You do realize it came from an evil scientist’s lab, likely has some sort of mutant ability as a result, and will now be roaming freely around our apartment?”

That made Ophelia smile. “Yes, I know that, and understand where your concern is coming from, but there’s something you have failed to consider.”

“And what’s that?”

“He might be an evil science experiment, but Janus is also a very good boy.”

[avengerscompound]

The Tower: Family - 12

The Tower: Family An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 2588

Warnings:  Pregnancy, mentions of past child abuse

Synopsis: With new powers, Thor now living on Earth full time, a wedding to plan, and Natasha and Wanda expecting, a lot is changing for Elly and her large and rather unconventional family.  When Elise’s parents try to reestablish connections, Elly questions what being a family actually means.

Chapter 12: Confrontations

It took a lot of legal toing and froing to get to an agreed time for my parents to come.  They were reluctant to agree to the terms of having lawyers present or having the meeting here at their expense.  They ended up agreeing to everything because, in the end, it was them wanting something from me, not the other way around.  By the time it was all arranged and the meeting was happening my morning sickness had well and truly kicked in.

There were now three of us with morning sickness and it made for some awkward mornings.  For starters, we could set each other off.  If Natasha or I had morning sickness, it always made Wanda’s worse.  Natasha could hear someone throwing up, but if she saw it, we had to move or she’d be throwing up on top of us.  It was a good thing we had lots of bathrooms, and it was becoming a little more common for the three of us to decide not to spend the whole night together for fear of setting each other off in the morning.  Not always, we usually had a little warning before it got bad, but if there had a few days in a row where we were all very ill, we would take a break.

A whole array of temporary house rules had been established because different things set us off.  Coffee had to be drunk in the kitchen away from me and Wanda.  All the shampoo and conditioner was now unscented and we had found exactly one brand of soap we could agree on.  Bucky and Tony weren’t allowed to wear their preferred aftershave.  No bacon at all in the house.

On the day I was supposed to meet with them I woke up and immediately dashed to the bathroom, emptying my stomach of its contents and then just dry heaving.  Bruce followed me in, having shifted into just Bruce.  While I threw up he held my hair back off my face and when it was clear I had nothing left he wet a washcloth with cold water and wiped my brow and down the back of my neck.

“It seems extra bad today,” he said.  “I missed it last time.  Is this just how it is or are you stressed about today and it's making it worse?”

I shook my head and pressed my forehead to the cold tiles on the wall.  “It was bad last time too, but I was also stressed then, wasn't I?”

“Right,” he said.  “Of course.  What can I do?”

“Help me up?” I asked.

He helped me to my feet and started the shower.  I ran my fingers through the threads from me to the others.  My morning sickness had set Wanda’s off and Sam was currently with her as she threw up in the bathroom down the hall.  Natasha was in bed with Clint and Bucky all of them were awake and she wasn’t feeling great.  Steve and Tony were downstairs with the twins, while Thor was just getting up.  He appeared in the bathroom and began to strip his underwear off.

“Perhaps I should go to Asgard and get some elixir for the three of you.  It works much better for nausea than the pills you’ve been taking,” he said.

“That might be a good idea,” I agreed as I stepped into the water.

Bruce and Thor followed me in and Bruce grabbed the shampoo and began to work it through my hair.  “Are you sure you want to go through with this today?”  Bruce asked.

I shook my head.  “No,” I said, feeling myself tense up again, even as Bruce’s fingers worked over my scalp.  “But I’m going to anyway.  Better I end this.”

Thor cradled my jaw and tilted my head up to look him in the eyes.  “You are in the position of power now,” he said.  “Do not let them return you to that frightened child you once were.  You are not that little girl anymore and stressing so much is not good for the baby.”

I gave a small nod and he leaned down and brought his lips to mine.  I relaxed into him and Bruce kissed my shoulder gently.  I pulled back and sighed. There was a huge part of me that wanted to forget everything.  To just have shower sex so that it might chase off the last of my nausea and then to head downstairs and have a nice normal day with the people I’d chosen to spend it with.  Instead, I ran my hand down Thor’s chest and gave a small nod.  “Okay.  I better get a move on.”

I showered and took a long time deciding what I wanted to wear.  The last time my parents had seen me in person I was 16 and goth.  I didn’t know if right now the image I wanted to go for was professional or more me.  I didn’t want to give them a reason to think for a second I was there in a casual capacity.  I didn’t want them to have a reason to pick at me.  But at the same time, I didn’t want them to think I’d turned out to be the person they wanted me to be.

I ended up opting to dress how I wanted to.  This wasn’t a trial.  This was my parents and they needed to see me how I was now.  I put on a black romper with a sheer duster that attached at the waist and had a Maleficent print.  I did my hair and makeup and headed downstairs to breakfast with Thor and Bruce who had now shifted into his midway form.  Wanda was in the dining room eating a millet porridge next to Sam who had a plate of eggs and sausage.  The kids were in the living area watching cartoons with Clint, Bucky, and the puppies, while Steve, Natasha, and Tony sat on the couches near the spiral staircases.

Steve, Tony, and Natasha stood as I came down and followed me over to the table.  “You’re sure you want to do this?”  Steve asked.

I took a seat and grabbed myself some toast and chuckled.  “Already had this conversation today.” 

“Right,” Steve said.  “Well.  Just remember we’re all up here if you need us. Whatever you decide to do, we’ll support you.”

“Thank you, Steve,” I said and sipped my tea.  “You’re making it sound like I’m going to negotiate for national security.”

He chuckled and rubbed my arm.  “I know, sweetheart,” he said.  “But I know how anxious this has made you.  It’s a big deal.”

“Thanks,” I repeated.  “I don’t think I can handle another pep talk though.  I just want it over with.”

“Have they arrived yet, FRIDAY?”  Natasha asked.

“They’re just going through security now,” the AI replied.

Bruce seemed to panic a little and just started shoving food into his mouth.  I laughed and patted his arm.  “Relax.  They can wait.  Take your time.”

“Thanks, El,” he chuckled and slowed back down again.

It took a little while for Bruce to finish eating and it made me spitefully happy thinking about my dad trying not to lose his mind while I made him wait.  When he was done everyone stood and they walked me to the elevator.

“If they want money, you can give it to them,” Tony said, just as the elevator door opened.  “Pay them off and get them out of your life again.”

I shook my head.  “I don’t want that, Tony,” I said. “If they want money, they’re out of my life.”

He nodded and he, Natasha, and Steve kissed me goodbye, and Wanda, Bruce, and I caught the elevator down.  Wanda took my hand wordlessly, and when she did that, Bruce placed a large hand on my back so that his fingers curled around my side.  The elevator stopped and we were greeted by three of Tony’s legal team.

“Doctor Cooper, your parents are waiting through here,” one said and led us through into the conference room.

My mom and dad and their lawyer stood as soon as we came in.  They’d aged so much since I’d seen them.  Dad was going bald and his hair was more grey than brown, and mom was clearly dying her hair.  Seeing them, even as different as they looked, only made me think of him hitting me and her telling me that's just how men were and I should expect it from my husband too.  There was no thread between me and my father and the one to my mother was so faint I wasn't sure if I was imagining it or not.  I knew then it didn't matter what else happened today, these people weren't my family, and I wasn't going to let them back in my life.  Not how they were.

“Elise,” mom said, taking a step forward and holding out her hands.

One of our lawyers cleared his throat.  “We have organized this meeting at the request of Mr. and Mrs. Cooper but it should be clear, Doctor Cooper has no desire to rekindle any kind of relationship with her abusers.”

“Elise...” my mother said, furrowing her brow.

I took a seat and everyone else sat down too, Wanda and Bruce flanking me on each side.

“Well, here I am,” I said.  “Tell me what it is you want.”

Mom looked at dad who just folded his arms over his chest.  “We want our daughter back,” Mom said.  “You ran away, we didn’t kick you out.”

“Oh, please,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes.  “I left because he was beating me and you were grooming me.”

“Honey, I know your father could lose his temper…” Mom implored.

I felt Bruce tense and he leaned forward over the table.  “No, I think you’re mistaken.  I can lose my temper.  Your husband beats helpless children,” he growled and balled his fist.

My parents blanched and scooted back in their chairs.  I placed my hand on his arm as he sat back in the chair.  Mom looked at dad and nudged him.  He scowled and let out a breath in a huff.

“Elise, you know I love you,” he said.  “I’m sorry for the things I did.  I was sorry when I did them.  I want us to have a relationship.”

“Uh-huh,” I said.  “And despite the fact that for over six years where I was has been a topic of media coverage, and for the six years before that, I wasn’t even hiding and had my name on academic papers but you’ve only chosen now I’ve married one of the richest men on the planet to try and get in contact, that’s a coincidence?”

“It’s not a coincidence,” he said.  “We saw you get married and we realized we should have been there.”

“So you could be seen hobnobbing with the rich and powerful?”  I hissed.

Wanda put her hand on my arm and I looked at her, her eyes glowed pink.  ‘He’s not exactly lying.  There are some things there about the connections they could make, but they have missed you,’ she sent.

‘Have they changed?’ I sent back and she shrugged in response.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.  “I don’t think I want that,” I said.  “What you did to me, how I was the family scapegoat, the way you would hurt me and then buy my forgiveness, how you’d make me lie to people about my injuries so you wouldn’t get in trouble, how nothing I did was good enough for you; those things fucked me up for so long.  They made me doubt whether anyone could love me.  They made it hard for me to trust anyone.  I can’t accept gifts from people without expecting that some kind of pain will be attached to it.  You made me feel like I was worthless and it took a long time to retrain myself to know that I wasn’t.  I can’t have you back in my life because I don’t want to be reminded of how the people whose job it was to love me couldn’t even do that.”  I had told myself they weren't going to make me cry, that they didn't get to see how they were still able to hurt me, but by the end of my rant I was openly weeping.  Wanda had taken my hand and was holding it tightly and Bruce was caressing my back.

“I'm sorry, Elise.  I'm sorry we made you feel like that.  I'm sorry I never stopped him,” mom said.

“You're still with him!” I shouted.  “And Amanda looked scared.  Why was she scared about going back to you alone?  Why are you still with the man who broke your daughter's bones on multiple occasions?  Wasn't it your job to protect me from that?”

Mom opened and closed her mouth like a fish and dad has stiffened up in his chair.  “Now look here, Elise,” he huffed.

“No!” I shouted.  “You look here!  You don't get to be part of my life anymore.  You aren't my father.  You forfeited that when you first shattered the bones in my arm.  I don't care if you've genuinely changed.  You had sixteen years to show me you loved me, but all you taught me was self-loathing, pain, and fear.  I won't let you do that to me again!  I want nothing to do with you!”  I turned to my mother and she flinched from me.  “If you do honestly want a relationship with me, that might be possible.  Under these conditions; you leave dad.  Completely.  If you need help, I will do that, but you're not to have any contact with him outside of divorce lawyers.  You will get therapy.  I can help with that too.  Then I'll let you see me.  If things go well I'll let you meet some of the others and eventually the kids.  But know this, this is me, mother.  I am a bisexual woman in a relationship with nine people.  These aren't my friends, they are my lovers.  We have children together.  I did not follow your life plan of marrying rich and being a good housewife.”

“Elise!” Dad snapped and had he used that voice a moment ago I probably would have cowered like a kicked dog.  Something had snapped in me though.  I was well and truly done.  I knew who I was and what I was worth and I would not be afraid of him ever again.

I got up ignoring him and I looked at the lawyers.  “I’m done here.  I'd appreciate it if one of you would sort out getting a restraining order set up against my dad, for both me and the kids.”

“Of course,” the one closest to me said.  “We’ll get that started right away.”

I turned back to my parents and folded my arms.  “Goodbye,” I said.  “I'd say it was nice seeing you, but you never did like it when I lied.”

I strode out of the room followed by Wanda and Bruce and when we were out Bruce scooped me up into his arms like a doll and hugged me.  “I am so proud of you,” he rumbled.

“Me too, Elly,” Wanda said, rubbing my leg.  “You were amazing.”

“Okay, okay!” I said, snuggling into Bruce’s chest.  “Take me back to my real family.”

Bruce chuckled and hoisted me up onto his shoulder. “You've got it,” he said.

// NEXT

[mrsbarnes99]

The meaning of age and time

Pairing: Modern!CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are in a happy relationship but the comments of others about your agepap get to him and he starts wondering if you two are really suited for each other.

Warnings: Angst, big agegap (Reader is 23 and Bucky is 40)

Word Count: 1853 words

A/N: Here's a little one shot I came up with. I hope you like it. This is my first try at writing something and English is not my first language so please be kind.

You and Bucky had been together for almost a year and you‘ve never been happier in your life. He was the kind of boyfriend every girl hoped for: loving, charming, caring, funny and a bit dorky. But although you two were very in love and had been living together for a few months, there was one aspect that seemed to cause more and more problems. At first you never thought much about your agegap because you didn‘t deem it a problem in any way. But there had been situations in which you felt like Bucky was having some issues with the fact that you are significantly younger than him.

You first noticed it a couple of weeks ago when you two went out for some coffee in the afternoon.

Eversince the new cupcake shop down the street from your apartment had opened you wanted to try it out. So one Sunday you convinced Bucky - by convincing you mean giving your boyfriend a serious case of puppy dog eyes - to go there after taking a walk together. Bucky had always loved these little dates the two of you would go on practically all the time as Sam would say. This time though you noticed that Bucky was uncomfortable and kept glancing at everyone around you. Almost as if he was checking if they were looking at you two.

"Buck, if you don‘t want to stay we can take some cupcakes back home."

You were very surprised about the relief on Buckys face after telling him this but you figured that he was just exhausted and wanted to relax at home after a grueling week at work. Especially because everything seemed fine again once you had left the shop.

The second time that Bucky was all of a sudden in a bad mood was when Sam kept teasing Bucky with his "old age". Normally Bucky would just roll his eyes and start making jokes about Sam as well. Sometimes they would get so competitive that it almost seemed like a match. But this time Bucky just blew up.

"Y/N, grandpa here is really turning you into a homebody. When was the last time you went to a club with us?"

"I canceled one t-" "What is your problem Birdbrain!? Can‘t you just mind your own damn business for once?" You were shocked at how angry Bucky was and that he‘d just interrupt you like that.

"Cool it, Buckaroo or you might have a heart attack." Sam kept mocking. While glaring at him Bucky got up from his chair and then just stomped out of the café and back to his office. You and Sam just looked at each other confused. Neither of you understood why this would bring such a reaction out of him. After giving Bucky some time to calm down you went looking for him but he didn‘t go back to his office as you had presumed. So you went to his assistant and asked her where Bucky went to. "He left to see Mr. Rogers in his office to go over some contracts, Ms. Y/L/N."

You weren‘t sure if you should go up to Steve‘s office or not but decided to just knock and see if they were almost done. As you were standing infront of Steve‘s door you heard Bucky‘s voice "You don‘t understand Steve! I just don‘t know how to ignore it!" What was Bucky talking about? Ignore what? You were curious and kept on listening to their conversation.

"It was never a problem before. What changed?" "You just don‘t get it, Steve! Do you know how weird it is to feel how everyone around is watching you thinking what does he want with her? Can‘t he find someone his age? That poor girl he‘s probably just using her to feel young again. Why are they together they have nothing in common?" You felt a tear slide down your cheek. Why didn‘t Bucky tell you about his feelings concerning the agegap the two of you have? You decided it was better to go back to Bucky‘s office and wait there until he comes back to talk about everything. You didn‘t have to wait long. Bucky was back half an hour later and seemed to be in a better mood but once he saw your sad face he got concerned. "What happened, doll? Have you been crying?" "No. Actually, yes a bit." "Why?" Bucky sat down beside you and pulled you towards himself hugging you. "Ms. Romanoff told me you were with Steve so I went to his office and I overheard you guys talking. When were you going to tell me that my age bothered you so much?" You could see that Bucky was struggling thinking about how best to answer your question.

"Look, doll. I have always known that our relationship would raise some brows but that never bothered me until I heard some women talk about us." "When was that?" "That day at the cupcake shop." "So that‘s why you wanted to leave. But why does it bother you when someone you don‘t even know thinks it‘s ok to judge us?" "I didn‘t want it to bother me this much but I couldn‘t help but keep thinking about it. They did have some points..." "Such as?" You asked annoyed. "For example the fact that you‘re at an age where you like to go out an party on the weekends instead of chilling at home. Or that I‘m at an age where you settle down and start a family whereas that’s still in the far future for you. We‘re just in two very different places." "So do you feel this way too or have you just started thinking about this after hearing someone make these stupid remarks about us?" Bucky looked you deeply in the eyes, sighed and then kissed you on your forehead. "I‘m sorry, doll. I guess I just got too in my head with all this. I don‘t think that we‘re a bad match or not suited for each other just based on our age. I love you and I‘m very happy that you're my girl." "I love you too Buck. But promise me that you‘ll talk to me if something like this happens again ok?" "I promise, doll. What do you say to a movie and some Pizza tonight? So we can leave this all behind and spent some time together." You smiled at Bucky and gave him a kiss before grabbing your back and making your way back to the little clothing store you had started with Y/F/N a couple of years ago.

Now looking back at these two small incidents you wonder if you missed the signs which led to the big fallout you and Bucky had yesterday. When you came back to the apartment after work you were exhausted. Today just hadn‘t been your day. It started with an unfriendly customer and ended with a fashion magazine describing your stores latest clothes as boring and nothing new or exciting. You couldn‘t wait to just snuggle up to your boyfriend and forget about everything. But upon unlocking the door to your shared apartment it was like you entered an alternate dimension. There was a suitcase next to the door and you heard your boyfriend rummaging in the bedroom.

"Do you have to leave for a business meeting?" You asked confused, wondering if you forgot about something he mentioned. Bucky looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face. "Buck, what is going on? Did I forget about something?" You were starting to feel very agitated and uncomfortable like you already knew something bad was about to happen. "Look, Y/N, I think we‘ve been living in our own little world all this time but we just can‘t ignore the real world forever." "What do you mean?" You were shocked and heartbroken. Was Bucky really breaking up with you? And since when did he call you by your name? Normally he would refer to you by cute nicknames, mostly he would call you doll so much that his friends at first thought that that was your name. "It‘s just... you‘re too young for me. You're practically still a kid wanting to live their dream by trying to create a fashion brand with an itty bitty store. Whereas I‘m a cofounder of a well established firm who wants to start a family. We‘re in two different places in life and it‘s just not working. I mean your only 23 and I‘m in my forties. I need someone my age who I can marry and start a life with and you still have a lot to experience before you‘re able to settle down. You‘ll just resent me later on if I force you to grow up faster than you‘re supposed to." You were feeling numb. Too shocked to do or say anything. You only realized that you were crying once you saw the teardrops hitting your jacket that was folded over your arm.

"You can stay in the apartment as long as you need to find another place to stay. I‘m flying out to a conference and once I get back I‘ll move into my old condo." "So that‘s it. You suddenly decided to end it all over some comments other people you don‘t even know made? Don‘t I mean anything to you? I thought you loved me. How can you just throw it all away?" Bucky looked you in the eyes but you couldn‘t recognize the man you‘d fallen for anymore. His eyes were cold and detached like you were some nasty insect he wanted to get rid of. "Don‘t make this any harder on yourself. The faster you come to the realization that we never would have worked anyway the better. If you would be so nice as to let me leave now, I have a flight to catch that I can‘t miss because of your childish behavior. In the next couple of days someone is coming by to get the rest of my clothes. Oh and before I forget, here take this back it must have been expensive and you need the money more than I do." With that he gave you back the Rolex you had gifted him to his 40th birthday. You‘ve never felt so insulted „Really!? Is breaking my heart not enough for you? Do you have to insult me as well!? You can keep it. What should I do with it? I can‘t return it...remember it‘s engraved you egoistic, conceited asshole!" With that you shoved the watch back in his hand and ran off to the guestroom and looked it. A few minutes later you heard Bucky leaving the apartment and you.

Sitting on the floor you cried your eyes out. You‘ve never felt heartbreak like this before. Bucky had been everything you ever wanted but he just tossed you away like yesterday‘s trash. And the worst is that despite everything he just did and said to you, you‘re still not able to hate him. He still has your heart, sadly he doesn‘t want it no more.

[jimlingss]

The Ultimate Drabble

➜ 1.8k || OT7 || Fluff

➜ When all the worlds collide together.

► This is an ambitious crossover of all the main male leads of my slice of life series. Albeit short, I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Thank you for joining me for such a long journey. It took over four years, but I’m glad that I was able to complete it and that you, the reader, was along the wild ride with me.

Ringg Ringgg.

The elevator sings as he gets off the right floor. The doors part and he steps out, adjusting the sleeves of his fitted black suit that hug his broad shoulders one last time and brushing a strand of his sleek hair that’s parted to one side away from his forehead.

There’s already a bustle, music and conversations leaking out from the conference hall. 

But when Seokjin enters, he isn’t sure where to go.

People are already mingling, holding glasses of champagne, laughing and making small talk. No one greets him and he dawdles around for a second before he decides to approach the harpist playing at the side, right by the entrance.

“Excuse me, do you know who the event coordinator is?”

The long-legged boy lifts his head, fingers still plucking at his harp strings, but he exhibits utter confusion. His black rimmed and gawky glasses are sliding off his nose, coffee brown hair barely combed. But in his polite smile, dimples appear on each side of his cheek. “I actually don’t know, sorry. I’ve been trying to figure out who the event coordinator is too. I’m just a hired college student.”

“Oh. Well, that’s quite alright. Thank you.”

“No problem.” The boy continues plucking, playing a lovely piece to fill the background noise.

But Seokjin is back to square one.

Or at least for only a few minutes.

As soon as he arrives at the refreshments table, he catches someone’s eye and they beeline straight towards him. “Excuse me, are you Mr. Kim?”

Seokjin turns around and finds a smiling man with plump lips, rounded cheeks, and crinkled eyes. But despite the boyish exterior, Seokjin recognizes him from the shows he’s been to. He’s Tony award-winning Broadway actor, Park Jimin. 

It was admirable that someone like him, with fame and power, would selflessly host such a charity purely for the betterment of humanity. Everyone these days seems to have ulterior motives, but the man looks to be the exception.

“Yes, I am.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Park Jimin.” The two men shake hands. “I couldn’t thank you enough for being one of the sponsors of our events.”

“It’s my pleasure. Valleyview Kim Hospital will always help support child welfare. If anything, I should be thanking you for reaching out to me. I wouldn’t want to miss out on such a great opportunity.”

The pair of them exchange a bit more conversation before Jimin is leading Seokjin to his designated table.

“This is Jung Hoseok,” Jimin introduces and Seokjin is taken aback.

The man is tall with dark hair, dressed in a fitted suit with his sun-kissed skin glowing. He has high cheekbones with a long nose, mere presence commanding attention. But when he glances up and stands, the natural furrow of his brows seems to soften intentionally like he’s still practicing how to not look intimidating.

“Nice to meet you. I’m a partner of Jung and Park, a divorce law firm here in downtown.”

“I’m Mr. Kim Seokjin, I’m the chief executive officer of Valleyview Kim Hospital.”

“Oh, I’ve been a few times.” The lawyer seems to ease and he smiles.

“Have you?”

“Yes. Fortunately, nothing bad happened but you have an amazing team of doctors on hand.”

“Thank you. I’m glad we were able to accommodate and treat you fairly.”

Jimin smiles and moves onto the next set of people that stood from their seats to greet Seokjin. There’s a plump man who has a wide smile and a younger boy next to him. The latter has eyes the colour of a deep chestnut shade, a softened yet strong gaze. His features are gentle, cheeks rounded, lashes long, hair that looks fluffy to the touch and naturally pouty lips.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you! I am Mr. Min, president of Brilliant Top School. One of the best secondary schools in the country, and this is my son, Min Yoongi. He is a high academic, actually, the Student Council President that runs the internal affairs in our institution—”

“Dad,” the high-schooler calls in a husky voice, eyes drooping as if he’s exhausted and doesn’t want to be here.

Seokjin can empathize with him. Social events aren’t exactly exciting half the time.

“It’s nice to meet you. I look forward to hearing more about your school soon.”

They all take their seats, getting comfortable and Jimin smiles. “Dinner will begin shortly. Feel free to mingle and order any drinks or refreshments. There’s also auctions in the lobby if you haven't already taken a look. Thank you again for coming.”

The charity fundraiser looks like it’s doing well for itself. There appears to be plenty of sponsors from all across the board, different people from all kinds of different industries. Seokjin’s glad that so many can come together for such a great cause.

“Do you know who the empty seats are for?” he asks when curiosity gets the better of him.

The lawyer looks up from his menu. “Apparently, it’ll be where the First Lady is sitting.”

“The First Lady?” His brows raise in surprise.

Hoseok nods. “She was the biggest sponsor of tonight’s event or so I’m told.”

And soon enough, much to the bafflement of Seokjin, the First Lady indeed emerges. There are pictures taken with the hired photographers, people that approach and introduce themselves, shaking her hand. Swarmed by the masses, it seems like she can’t even get to the table without being stopped every few seconds. But eventually she arrives and everyone stands in courtesy.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Kim.”

“Likewise.” She smiles and introduces the boy Jin didn’t notice was behind her. “This is my stepson, Taehyung.”

“Hi,” he grunts half-heartedly. His blonde hair is a mess, clothing rather baggy, and the scruff all over his chin never once gives hints that he’s the wealthy son of a world leader. He doesn’t have brand name clothing, a polished appearance, or luxurious watches to his name. But despite appearing rugged, he looks not that much older than a mere college student.

“Hello.” Hands are shaken, greetings exchanged, but Taehyung doesn’t look like he wants to be here. Both he and Yoongi, with no words said to one another, seem to telepathically exchange mutual respect in that way.

A smile finds itself on Seokjin’s lips — he can still remember when he was that young and unimpressed with the world.

“Thank you for your contribution to this country.” Mr. Min is shaking the First Lady’s hand excitedly. “The funding you have put into education has helped us run so many programs for our students, like our scholarship program. The previous administration was looking to cut education, and it was absolutely terrible! It’s nice to know that there’s someone sitting in office who genuinely cares about the well-being of our children and the future generation.”

The woman is laughing politely, and this time, the principal’s son looks like he has no plans on stopping his ramble and the president’s son doesn’t look like he particularly cares either.

The former grabs his non-alcoholic champagne and downs the whole flute.

Soon, the conversations slow down and the music becomes quieter. The lights dim, and a single spotlight is put on the podium in front of the room. Jimin enters the stage, tapping the microphone once and then he flashes a brilliant smile.

“Good evening, everyone and welcome to the Break the Silence charity fundraiser. Tonight is about helping children find their voices, supporting child welfare in broken homes, and promoting the education of children in need. So, thank you for coming here tonight and aiding this great cause. Without the support and sponsors of tonight, I would’ve never been able to host such an event.”

The Broadway actor continues with his speech, speaking about each of the sponsors for the non-profit fundraiser and the bidding that’s happening in the lobby, and where the proceeds will go. Afterwards, it dials down to a more casual discussion of when meals will be served and when the bidding results will be announced.

“Thank you everyone who came here today to support the cause.” There’s loud applause that erupts through the room and the actor smiles, walking off the stage.

The harp player in the corner continues playing and plucking away at his strings, and promptly enough, the meals are served. Seokjin finds easy conversation with Hoseok. It never goes anything beyond polite work talk but he’s rather easy to speak to and Jin muses that he’s quite professional.

The First Lady is swamped the entire night, so there’s little he can say to her. Her stepson, on the other hand, doesn’t seem like he wants to talk and neither does the highschooler who’s found often texting on his phone with a smile that sometimes sneaks on his lips. His father isn’t bothered enough to ask him who it is on the other side — he’s too preoccupied speaking about the scholarship student program at his institution to other people mingling around.

But eventually, dinner is finished and dessert is served. 

Though not before the chef comes out to personally introduce the dish.

“Good evening, I hope you enjoyed your dinner tonight.” The man who approaches has doe eyes and dark hair flopping to the side. His black dress shirt is tucked into his black trousers hugging his muscular frame. Apparently his name is Jeon Jungkook, a World Renowned Chocolatier, or at least what Jimin had commemorated at the beginning and what Mr. Min had whispered about prior to the dish being served. “This is a chocolate ball created by using Amedei Porcelana, a dark chocolate made by the Amedei chocolatier of Tuscany, Italy. The chocolate on the side that you pour onto the ball is a sweeter milk chocolate, and there’s crème brûlée ice-cream inside with truffle shavings.”

“Thank you.” The First Lady picks up her fork.

Mr. Min is in awe. “This is absolutely wonderful.”

And for the first time tonight, Yoongi and Taehyung look like they’re actually alive and not half dying.

“This looks delicious,” Seokjin affirms and Jungkook smiles. 

“Please, enjoy.” The man continues on his way, a waiter following behind him and rolling the silver cart to help distribute the desserts.

It’s odd. Seokjin feels a sense of familiarity with these people. And in spite of being surrounded by complete strangers, he enjoys his night wholeheartedly.

The event continues, food finished and the bidding results announced. After a little more mingling, people begin to bid their farewells and Seokjin parts away from Hoseok, shaking the man’s hand once more with a promise that if the lawyer ever needs something from the hospital, then he’s just one call away. It’s an acquaintance-relationship built on mutual respect.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Kim.” 

“It was a pleasure.” Jin shakes Jimin’s hand one last time. “Feel free to contact me if you ever plan on organizing an event like this again. I would love to contribute to great causes.”

“I will.” They exchange smiles.

It’s a peculiar night, but not a bitter one. 

It’s sweet.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

This Christmas (pt1)

John Wick x Reader. A John Wick AU. (A/n- Just a tiny, five part Au where John is Y/n’s boss.)

Masterlist  

Warnings- none

New York Y/n’s desk was probably the most obvious give away that Christmas was her favorite holiday of all time. She had everything; from tinsel running cheerfully around the edges and a tiny tree in one corner, to a little snowman figurine and a decorative jar of striped candy canes. That year, she’d even put out extra to buy a little Santa Claus figurine to greet everyone coming out of the elevator. The rest of the floor hadn’t really caught on though, her boss was never one to get into the holiday spirit anyways. But Y/n didn’t mind, she probably had enough for them both. 

That morning, three weeks before the big day, she was sitting at her little station in the waiting room, tapping away on her computer, contentedly working her way through everything John had assigned her as she hummed in time with the Christmas carols wafting through her ear buds, loud enough for her to enjoy it though not so much so as to hamper her from hearing if the phone would ring. A classic had just started up, and like the others, Y/n had committed it to memory and was completely ready to get in tune with Mariah Carey when a knocking on the upper part of her receptionist’s desk roused her attention. It was Robert, the company’s head of marketing, flashing her a winning grin as he leaned forward on the matted grey surface. “I see our Christmas queen strikes again,” he gave her area a once over, his smile not wavering.

“That she has,” Y/n returned, beaming. Robert was a friend, a good one and he never let the vast differences in their positions at the company get in the way of inviting her to drinks with other board members or taking the extra elevator ride to bring her coffee whenever he could. “Do you like it?” Removing her ear buds, Y/n shifted her keyboard to give herself some room to fold her elbows on the desk.

“Like it?” Robert furrowed his brows, “I love it! You should come over and help me decorate,” when Y/n rolled her eyes, dismissing the notion, he clarified, “I’m being serious! You won’t have to do any of the heavy lifting, I swear, I’d be grateful for just your direction.”

Giggling, Y/n leaned back into her chair, folding her arms across her chest, “Can’t you pay someone to do all that Rob? What do you need me for?”

“I guess I could,” he shrugged, depositing a colorful gift bag with crepe paper sticking out at the top in front of him, he straightened up, slipping his hands into his pockets, “But it won’t be the same. I’m pretty clueless with…..making sure things flow so perfectly,” he gestured to the way she’d dressed up her station; just enough to show off the spirit, though not in a gaudy, over the top way, “But I like to get involved, you know? Please say you’ll come. I may not be able to decorate like a pro, but my hot cocoa is awesome.”

Leaning in conspiringly, Y/n held her chin in her palm, “Are you trying to bribe me with amazing cocoa that I’ve never tasted?”

“I am,” his voice dropped an octave, and when Robert leaned in towards the desk, he spoke in a whisper, “The secret’s whiskey.”

“Ohh,” Y/n mused, “Very tempting, can you do Saturday?”

“I most definitely can.” just as they continued to make plans, out from the hallway, came their boss, and CEO of the company, John Wick. It was hard to not notice him, considering he seemed to have this air about him that attracted all eyes the minute he walked into a room. He was just…..magnetic. “Y/n,” he teased, “You didn’t tell me the Grinch was in.”

From her usual perch, Y/n stuttered, unlike Robert, she was afraid of what would happen if John felt insulted by a harmless joke. He was an asset to the company, of a high caliber, but her? She was just an assistant. Thankfully though, John didn’t give her a moment to speak before speaking up, shaking his head, “Don’t you have work to do Rob? Things to finalize before the conference.”

“It’s three weeks away,” Robert defended, taking on a bothered expression. He turned to John, leaning against the lip of the desk and crossing one ankle in front of the other. Likewise, John neared the pair, lingering closer to the edge, laying a large palm on the cool top, not yet regarding Y/n.

“Only three weeks,” John emphasized with a heavy sigh, “Did you really just come up here to bother my secretary? Cause if you don’t, Y/n does have work to.” 

“I can see that,” Robert nodded towards the thick planner laid out next to her computer, right next to several papers and little notes reminding her of all the things she had to get done. Buy gifts for everyone on John’s very long yet impersonal list, schedule flights to England for the conference, book him a hotel room, organize his calendar and set appointment dates. And that was barely a quarter of it. By the rate things were going, Y/n was beginning to wonder if John was even going to take Christmas day off. “You’ve got her burning the midnight oil.”

“It’s eleven am,” John noted gruffly. In her three years of working under him, Y/n had never once heard the man crack a joke, or laugh for that matter. He was so serious that often, Y/n would wonder if he even smiled. Maybe that's why he looked so good for a man nearing fifty. That, and the real possibility of him having a fancy home gym. “Maybe it’s time to get back to your office Robert.”

“Right,” Robert fought a frown, only to turn back to Y/n as he picked up the gift, “Just one more thing,” as he looked at her, he smiled again, holding the bag out to her, “I got you this Y/n.”

Scoffing a delighted laugh, Y/n retrieved the present, “No fair, you’re early. I haven’t even had time to get your gift yet.”

“This isn’t your Christmas present,” Robert gestured for her to unveil his gift, “Open it, come on.”

“Alright, fine. But if it's not- oh my god!” Gasping loudly, her jaw hung slack and Y/n held up the ceramic mug that had been secured inside. It was rounded and painted to look like a gingerbread man wearing a scarf, and it had even come equipped with a candy cane spoon. “Rob,”  standing abruptly, disregarding her boss eyeing their exchange, “I love it,” Y/n walked around to meet him on the other side, immediately pulling him into a warm hug, “Thank you!”

“I knew you would,” he grinned as they pulled apart, “I should probably get back now though. But I’ll call you tonight so we can talk about Saturday.”

“Sounds great!” Waving as Robert retreated towards the elevator, she gave her new mug another look, “I can’t wait to use this,” Y/n noted, more to herself, only catching John staring at her when she looked up once more, “I’m sorry Mr. Wick, is there something you needed? If its about your flight plan, I’m calling the agency this afternoon so-”

“You know we have a no fraternization policy, right?” He cut her off, straightening his back and cutting her a stern look.

“I….uh….You mean…..” Looking between John and her opened present, Y/n furrowed her brows, confused. Of course, Robert was perhaps one of the most eligible bachelors, besides John himself, at the company; he was attractive, charming and quite the gentleman. But Y/n had never even thought of viewing him in a romantic light, they were friends and nothing more. “That was…..that was nothing,” she waved the thought off, “Robert is just a good friend. He probably just saw that while he was shopping or something. We do that kind of thing all the time.”

Humming his response, John kept his head held intimidatingly high. He always seemed so much bigger than her and Y/n could never decide whether or not it was thrilling or frightening. John himself was quite the looker, dark hair, dark eyes and enthrallingly mysterious. Even on a regular day he looked like he belonged on the posters for some high end brand or the other. “I need you in my office,” already, he was walking off and Y/n was left scurrying to match his long strides in her heels.

“What is this about?” Breathless as John shut the heavy door behind them, Y/n tried to right herself as she went before his desk. The large room, with dark porcelain floors and hardwood walls, accented by elegant furniture was familiar territory and Y/n knew it almost as well as she knew her own apartment. Papers on the right of his desk were dealt with, the ones on the left weren’t. There was an integrated mini refrigerator among the cabinets and he kept an extra suit, custom Tom Ford cause he never wore anything but, in the closet where he kept his coat. Come to think of it, Y/n probably knew more about John than anyone else in that entire building,

“Its about the conference,” coolly, he sank into his imposing leather chair, gracefully scooting towards his imported, mahogany desk. “It’s good that you haven’t called the agency yet, cause now you’ll be booking three tickets; you’re coming too.”

Stammering, Y/n’s eyes went wide with surprise. That wasn’t right, that wasn’t right at all. She was supposed to have Christmas week off, so she could fly home to be with her family, but that wasn’t really possible if John would be taking her across the pond for a conference filled with stuffy, middle aged people with too much money and no one to spend it on. “Mr. Wick…..I…..I already applied for that week off.”

“No you didn’t, you never submitted an application,” he didn’t even look at her, firing up his laptop and probably ready to be done with the matter.

“Yes, I did,” frenzied, and panicked, Y/n looked to his desk, where, lo and behold, her application for time off sat on among the smaller pile of paperwork, the one on the left side. But that was impossible, she’d given it to him weeks ago! “It’s right there,” she pointed accusingly to where it had been sticking out from beneath some investment proposal or the other. 

Snatching it up, John scanned the pages before swearing under his breath. It was the first time she’d ever seen him so bewildered. “Y/n,” he sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, “I’m sorry it must have gotten mixed up in the hustle.”

“I….” She wanted to argue, tell him that an apology wouldn’t make up for keeping her away from her family. Y/n wanted to yell that she’d be taking the week off anyway. But she couldn’t. Not just because he was her boss, but because he was John, who despite his very hardened exterior, had earned himself a soft spot in her heart. Y/n cared for him, in a way she probably shouldn’t have and the thought of bailing when he needed her wasn’t one she could entertain. “It’s okay,” forcing a smile and biting back tears, she blinked quickly, “I guess I should get to planning our flights.”

“Y/n-” he began, but it was too late, Y/n had already turned on her heel and was moving towards the door, swiping hastily at her eyes before she could listen to him say anything else. 

Three Weeks Later Despite being separated merely by six inches in the car ride to the airport, Y/n swore that she could feel John's heat radiating, seeping through her thick layers. It was both an exciting and uncomfortable experience. On one hand, being that close to him almost had her giddy; feeding the school girl crush she'd developed on her boss. While on the other, things felt clumsy and tense; he didn't seem interested in talking,  she didn't know what they could possibly talk about besides work and sharing an hour long car ride and six am was plain out awkward. Still, they’d made it through in almost complete silence. 

Even at the airport, whilst walking to where they had agreed to meet Robert at the waiting area in anticipation of their flight, John had stayed silent and Y/n felt something of a dead limb walking beside him. He was always quiet and, like clockwork, as the year dwindled down, he seemed to grow even colder, as New York’s winter resided inside him. Usually, Y/n tried to not to let it get to her, but they were going to spend the week together; she’d given up family time for work and his silence was making her feel a bit lonely. Her only glimmer of hope for some good, warm company had been in Robert, even if Y/n got the feeling that John wouldn’t be giving them too much time together.

The chill between them lingered all the way through, though, when they all met up, things were uncharacteristically different. Immediately upon greeting each other, Y/n had instinctively pulled Robert into a hug, standing on the tip toes of her suede knee-highs so she could loop her arms around his neck, staying like that until John cleared his throat. When Y/n pulled away, she rubbed her gloved hands together, glancing at John, not really knowing what to feel when she looked at him and consequently looking away quickly. “ Uh…” checking her phone, Y/n exhaled shakily; there was still quite a bit of time left and the thought of having to spend it with both Robert and John was unnerving. She knew he wasn’t exactly a fan of their friendship, though, she could never tell why and without having to ponder on it, Y/n  had already known that they were in for a long morning.

“Why don’t we head over to the lounge, get some drinks?” John filled the silence, causing Y/n to snap her head up and look directly at them. John wanted to grab drinks, with them? When she finally gathered the courage to face him, she found that John was looking directly at her, as if he were really only seeking her response.

Staring back at him, as she always did, Y/n found it hard to not lose herself in those dark pools, so endless that she might have drowned if she wasn’t too careful. The request was simple and impersonal, but still very unlike the John she’d grown to know. “Okay,” forcing herself to nod and simultaneously shifting her gaze back to Robert who now stood beside her, Y/n agreed, “We can do that. But it’s a little early, don’t you think?”

“It’s the airport, Y/n,” Robert teased lightly as he nudged her shoulder, “Besides, it's already noon in London, so technically, you’re just…….pre-assimilating.”

Battling an amused grin, Y/n rolled her eyes, adjusting the bag on her shoulder as she prepared to start moving towards the lounge, “That’s not a real thing.”

“Technically it is, I mean, Hardy made up words all the time and no one did anything about that. You,” he emphasized pointedly, “Love Hardy.”

“Hardy is a timeless, literary genius. You are a marketer from New York, it’s clearly not the same,” she laughed. She could tell that Robert was about to add something more, though, when John interrupted them, sternly urging them to move along, he dropped the matter, instead insisting that he take one of her bigger bags. “Oh, you don’t have to.”

“Yeah, but I want to,” he said, claiming one of her carry ons before she could protest any further. “We should get going, before Scrooge over here loses it.”

“You’ve gotta stop that,” Y/n admonished before they set off, “You’re gonna get fired or something.”

“I’m not gonna get fired, relax-”

“If you kids are finished,” they both looked to John immediately as he scolded them, and Y/n shuddered at the way his tell tale signs of irritation shone through; a quirked brow, an evident scowl and a hardness in his jaw that screamed that he was at his rope’s end with their banter. 

“We are,” she spoke up without giving Robert the opportunity to come up with another questionable joke directed at their very unamused boss. Then, not offering anything further, she followed John’s  lead as he walked off, not paying any mind to how far they were behind him. 

Though, the peace was short lived when Y/n tripped as they reached the bottom of one of those short lived staircases that had been placed purely for aesthetic purposes, accidently dropping her rolling suitcase as she stumbled forward. With reflexes faster than she could have registered, John spun, barely sparing a moment to set aside his own suitcase before catching her at the shoulders. By the time he’d helped her right herself, Y/n’s chest was barely a hair away from his and with the way he was bent, his face wasn’t much further from hers. Swallowing thickly, for the first time Y/n didn’t feel small under his bottomless stare, instead, she felt like he was seeing into her; trying to speak into her. It was hard to decipher it, and it could have very well been her own unspoken affections blurring things, but Y/n could have sworn that he was seeing her in a different light.

Everything around them seemed to slow down, like the universe was letting her savor the proximity that she’d never experience again. “Are you okay?” John’s inquiry pierced their fragile moment, and all of a sudden, it was as if someone had hit play on a remote so reality would resume.

“I…..I’m fine, thanks,” she smiled weakly, her expression faltering when John pulled away. Then, simultaneously remembering her fallen suitcase, they both bent over to get it, leaving John’s hand to unconsciously fall over Y/n’s. For a split second, they stared at their hands, together, on the black plastic handle, looking very suggestive with the way they were positioned. “I uh, I got it,” flustered, Y/n gave the bag a gentle tug.

John didn’t let up immediately though, instead sparing her a peculiar stare, “Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

“It’s okay,” she exhaled shakily. Y/n couldn't let him take it, else she’d read too much into it, and no good would come from reading too much into an innocent though rare act of inconsequential kindness from John Wick. He didn’t feel the same, they weren’t even friends, it wasn’t worth it. “Thanks though.”

They stood and John immediately put some distance between them. “Good,” he scoffed coldly, walking off before they could exchange anything else. 

“Hey,” Robert touched her shoulder, causing Y/n to jump. She’d been looking on as John walked off, rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do or think. “You okay? That could have been a nasty fall, especially in those shoes.”

“Yeah,” finally tearing her gaze away from John’s slowly shrinking form so she could greet Robert’s concern with her own bewilderment, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Vaguely, she heard his response, though it sounded far off as she inevitably succumbed to  letting thoughts of the past five minds swim around in her head; caught between wishing it meant something and thinking that it more than likely didn’t. 

****** Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana  @keandrews @greenmanalishi  @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves  @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

[hanbintms]

            it  is  eye  ,  kofi  ,  back  on  your  dash  with  my  newest  child  !  as  a  reminder  :  i’m  twenty4  ,  prefer  she / her  or  they / them  pronouns  ,  and  i  reside  in  the  est  timezone  !  the  muse  that  i  have  flowing  for  hanbin  is  truly  unmatched  even  though  i  literally  came  up  with  him  within  like  . . .  three  hours  ,  no  kidding  .  that  being  said  ,  he’s  a  brand  new  muse  and  i  can’t  wait  to  plot  with  everyone  once  again  (  or  for  the  first  time  !  )  i  won’t  talk  your  ears  off  as  i  know  this  intro  might  get  a  little  long  ,  but  aside  from  that  ,  can’t  wait  to  write  hanbin  with  ya’ll  !

            (  SONG  KANG , THIRTY , CIS  MAN , HE / HIM  )  *  hey  ,  i’m  looking  for  the  office  of  HANBIN  KOO  .  they’re  the  EMPLOYEE  /  IN - HOUSE  CHEF  who’s  known  around  the  office  as  THE  EPICURE  ,  if  that  helps  ?  not  to  be  a  gossip  ,  but  i’ve  heard  that  they’re  AFFABLE  but  UNCOUTH  ,  is  that  true  ?  i  also  heard  that  they’re  the  one  who  THREW  ICED  TEA  AT  HIS  EX  IN  THE  LOBBY  .  anyways  ,  here’s  the  coffee  they  ordered  .

statistics.

            name  :  koo  hanbin  .  nicknames  :  han  ,  hannie  ,  hanbinie  ,  +  binnie  .  age  +  date  of  birth  :  thirty  +  january  9th,  1991  .  zodiac  :  capricorn  .  moral  alignment  :  true  neutral  .  gender  +  pronouns  :  cis  man  +  he / him / his .  place  of  birth  :  busan  ,  south  korea  .  place  of  residence  :  west  village  ,  new  york  city  ,  new  york  .  orientation  :  bisexual  biromantic  .  occupation  :  in  house  chef  and  internet  personality  .  nationality  :  korean  (  holds  american  citizenship  )  .  ethnicity  :  korean  .  language(s)  spoken  :  korean  ,  english  ,  conversational  italian  ,  and  conversational  japanese  .

background.

            koo  hanbin’s  life  was  relatively  normal  when  he  was  born  .  his  mom  ,  koo  seonghwa  ,  worked  as  a  nurse  in  the  pediatric  department  of  a  local  hospital  in  busan  while  his  father  ,  koo  kyuchul  ,  was  an  office  worker  .  they  weren’t  the  richest  family  ,  nowhere  near  it  ,  but  the  koo  family  made  it  work  .  hanbin  has  more  memories  of  being  with  his  grandparents  more  often  than  his  parents  simply  because  of  their  demanding  careers ,  but  that’s  not  to  say  that  they  weren’t  loving  and  attentive  parents  when  they  had  time  to  be  with  their  only  son  .  

             however  ,  life  began  to  change  for  him  when  was  six  years  old  .  suddenly  ,  the  money  began  to  dwindle  as  quickly  as  it  was  brought  in  .  the  refrigerator  wasn’t  full  unless  seonghwa’s  mother  would  make  some  things  for  them  ,  and  kyuchul  was  coming  home  later  and  later  .  seonghwa  began  to  work  harder  in  an  attempt  to  break  even  ,  but  she  never  seemed  to  get  her  head  above  water  .  she’d  confront  her  husband  about  the  large  sums  of  money  that  would  disappear  from  their  account  ,  but  he  always  blamed  it  on  higher  bills  ,  raised  rent  ,  or  sudden  payments  that  he  had  to  make  .  it  never  made  any  sense  ,  but  seonghwa  started  a  separate  account  to  ensure  their  son  could  at  least  have  food  on  the  table  and  clothes  for  school  .

            the  next  couple  of  years  go  by  and  the  money  situation  worsens  ,  with  seonghwa  getting  to  her  wits  end  .  she  spends  more  time  with  hanbin  at  her  parents’  place  ,  sleeping  with  her  son  in  her  old  bedroom  and  hoping  he  doesn’t  hear  her  cry  at  night  .  she  struggles  to  understand  why  her  husband  is  keeping  secrets  from  her  ,  especially  as  they’ve  been  married  happily  for  the  last  eleven  years  ,  but  it  takes  some  tough  love  from  her  mother  to  get  seonghwa  to  pick  herself  up  .  so  ,  she  decides  to  confront  her  husband  one  night  when  she  finds  out  his  location  from  one  of  his  co - workers  ,  and  she’s  devastated  .  seonghwa  finds  kyuchul  with  a  younger  woman  ,  gambling  away  her  hard  earned  money  .  like  a  scene  out  of  a  drama  ,  seonghwa  kicks  her  husband  where  the  sun  doesn’t  shine  and  promptly  dragged  the  other  woman  outside  to  wack  her  upside  the  head  with  her  purse  .  seonghwa  was  hurt  ,  but  she  had  finally  gotten  answers  ,  and  she  wasn’t  going  to  be  embarrassed  like  this  ever  again  .

            so  ,  seonghwa  and  hanbin  permanently  move  in  with  her  parents  ,  and  it  takes  some  time  for  seonghwa  to  get  over  kyuchul  .  she  focuses  on  her  child  and  her  job  .  from  the  age  of  ten  ,  hanbin  began  spending  more  time  with  his  grandparents  in  their  small  ,  but  popular  barbecue  meat  restaurant  .  when  he  finishes  his  homework  ,  he  helps  his  grandparents  take  orders  ,  and  he  slowly  begins  to  work  the  kitchen  as  he  gets  older  .  his  grandparents  soon  leave  the  kitchen  work  to  him  as  they  get  up  in  age  ,  and  hanbin  runs  the  kitchen  as  if  he’d  been  doing  it  for  over  twenty  years  .  however  ,  when  he  graduates  from  high  school  ,  hanbin  decides  to  spread  his  wings  .  over  the  last  twelve  years  or  so  ,  hanbin  honed  his  cooking  skills  from  his  grandfather  and  spent  most  of  his  childhood  in  the  kitchen  ,  so  his  grandparents  passed  their  restaurant  down  to  seonghwa’s  brother  ,  and  hanbin  left  for  new  york  .

            eighteen  years  old  and  with  only  enough  money  to  get  a  small  sublet  ,  he  knew  he  needed  to  find  a  job  pronto  .  without  formal  kitchen  training  ,  hanbin  would  often  get  turned  away  from  jobs  (  because  he  was  better  than  a  busboy  !  )  and  eventually  ,  the  fates  was  on  his  side  .  he  forced  his  way  into  the  kitchen  of  a  popular  italian  restaurant  ,  immediately  snagging  the  title  of  junior  chef  .  hanbin  ,  a  fast  learner  with  even  faster  knife  skills  ,  easily  works  his  way  up  the  ranks  within  the  restaurant  .  within  six  years  ,  hanbin  becomes  head  chef  and  is  a  force  to  be  reckoned  with  in  the  kitchen  .  although  his  income  changes  significantly  ,  hanbin  starts  a  youtube  channel  in  hopes  of  sharing  his  love  for  food  and  cooking  .  within  a  year  ,  his  following  grows  substantially  ,  and  he’s  approached  to  broaden  his  efforts  by  working  at  masters  international  .

at masters.

hanbin  has  been  at  masters  for  five  years  .  he  started  working  here  after  his  youtube  channel  expanded  ,  and  he  was  approached  to  create  his  own  cooking  content  for  masters’  youtube  channel  .  

basically  ,  he  has  his  own  version  of  test  kitchen  ,  but  it’s  not  really  the  same  thing  .  he  makes  recipes  for  holidays  ,  celebrations  ,  and  is  constantly  showing  how  to  make  traditional  korean  dishes  (  would  not  be  surprised  if  he  has  a  ‘  cooking  with  my  mom  !  ’  type  series  )  .

gives  food  tips  too  like  which  wines  pair  best  with  certain  foods  or  how  to  make  the  most  out  of  your  first  hosting  gig  .  probably  has  a  video  where  he  shares  his  cooking  playlist  because  he  wants  you  to  get  in  the  mood  😌  .

probably  came  up  with  the  special  lunch  for  Daddy  Masters™  but  gets  ticked  when  he’s  asked  to  cook  it  because  does  that  man  know  a  schedule  ?  probably  not  .  [  ‘  we  were  on  a  break  !  ’  specifically  ,  hanbin2   was  on  his  lunch  break  .  ] 

is  it  true  that  he  threw  an  iced  tea  in  his  ex’s  face  ?  absolutely  ,  and  he  has  no  problem  admitting  it  lmao  .  who  was  said  ex  ?  i  guess  we’ll  never  know  [  this  a  number  one  champion  sound  ]  .

probably  well  received  around  the  office  but  i  wouldn’t  be  surprised  if  people  disliked  him  .  it  could  be  his  off  putting  persona  or  honestly  the  simple  fact  that  he’s  got  a  lot  of  sass  and  no  ass  .

headcanons.

you  can  read  a  full  list  of  headcanons  HERE  ;  below  is  an  abridged  version  .

has  a  gyeongsang  dialect  from  living  in  busan  ,  and  honestly  . . .  that’s  hot  .  so  ,  when  he  speaks  in  korean  it’s  rather  strong  and  aggressive  /  pitch  is  vastly  different  from  other  parts  of  korea  .  

i  literally  have  no  idea  how  to  explain  his  personality  other  than  by  using  his  moral  alignment  :  true  neutral  .  he’s  kinda  that  guy  who  knows  everything  but  won’t  tell  you  that  he  does  ?  did  he  eavesdrop  ?  maybe  ,  but  he  won’t  tell  you  that  .  he’s  largely  indifferent  to  a  lot  of  what  happens  around  masters  and  maybe  it’s  because  he’s  been  here  for  half  a  decade  ;  he’ll  just  make  sure  you  drink  water  if  you’re  drunk  and  crying  .

a  Dog  Father™  to  a  little  re:  big  goldendoodle  named  duri  .  he  is  most  definitely  judging  you  and  can  often  be  found  sunbathing  in  that  solarium  .  

a  very  simple  man  when  it  comes  to  his  coffee  :  caffè  americano  or  an  espresso  macchiato  please  .  and  don’t  forget  the  butter  croissant  !

mostly  expressionless  . . .  like  i  really  have  no  idea  how  to  explain  how  he  looks  at  people  because  i  feel  that  stoic  is  too  harsh  of  a  word  .  if  you  wanna  know  how  he  feels  though  ,  he  has  extremely  expressive  eyes  .

he  won’t  admit  it  but  he  loves  hosting  .  office  potluck  ?  he’s  your  guy  .  having  a  conference  ?  he’ll  make  your  snacks  .  if  you’re  coming  over  he’ll  make  a  charcuterie  board  and  will  lie  saying  he  made  it  with  some  stuff  he  had  on  hand  (  but  that’s  a  lie  ,  he  went  to  the  grocery  store  and  obsessed  over  it  for  a  solid  three  hours  )  .

finds  joy  in  the  mundane  .  some  people  might  think  he’s  weird  because  he  loves  grocery  shopping  ,  and  heavily  judges  people’s  carts  because  processed  food  ?  yuck  !  he  won’t  say  that  to  your  face  though  he’ll  just  be  like  ‘  are  you  sure  you  wanna  buy  that  ?  ’  and  will  sneakily  replace  your  frozen  pizza  with  pizza  ingredients  hehe  .

that  being  said  don’t  take  him  grocery  shopping  with  you  NFUDNSFDS  .  he  gets  ticked  about  food  waste  ,  and  those  who  don’t  use  reusable  bags  .   probably  has  a  lil  garden  at  his  place  and  composts  !  is  angry  about  people  calling  a  chunk  of  cauliflower  a  steak  (  in  other  words  ,  don’t  to  it  )  !

wanted connections.

DISCLAIMER  :  i  will  not  be  plotting  anything  romantic  with  characters  under  the  age  of  twenty - five  due  to  his  age  !

ONE  TRUE  LOVE  :  this  is  open  to  literally  anyone  ,  preferably  like  ,  28  to  30  but  we  can  talk  details  .  truly  ,  they’re  his  one  true  love  as  the  title  states  ,  and  i  like  to  believe  that  they  were  a  really  happy  couple  who  had  a  meet - cute  .  they  moved  in  together  and  things  were  great  ,  but  they  broke  up  when  they  felt  a  mutual  dissolve  in  their  relationship  .  that  being  said  ,  they’re  good  friends  now  !

BEST  FRIEND  :  who  wouldn’t  love  a  best  friend  .  basically  ,  they  get  along  well  ,  and  they  are  used  to  sung’s  non - verbal  communication  NVJCNXJV  .  it’d  be  really  fun  if  they  had  totally  different  personalities  but  somehow  they  managed  to  click  .  TAKEN  BY  GRIFFIN  OLSON  .

TASTE  TESTER  :  someone  who  he  calls  on  to  often  try  his  food  at  the  office  .  they  possibly  will  appear  in  his  videos  on  masters’  youtube  channel  ,  so  i  think  a  relationship  based  around  food  would  be  really  fun  !  TAKEN  BY  KENNEDY  CRAWFORD  /  SORAYA  HATHAWAY  .

HORN  DOGS  (  DEROGATORY  )  :  i  have  no  other  name  for  this  plot  but  i’m  thinking  two  people  who  cannot  keep  their  hands  off  of  one  another  .  i’m  talking  sneaky  touches  in  the  elevator  ,  secret  hook  ups  in  the  seventh  floor  bathroom  ,  quick  makeouts  and  nearly  getting  caught  .  bonus  points  if  people  around  the  office  don’t  believe  they’re  Banging™  because  their  personalities  are  so  different  .  

CRUSH  :  also  known  as  ,  someone  having  a  crush  on  him  ,  but  he  sees  them  as  a  friend  (  or  even  worse  ,  like  a  younger  sibling  )  .  TAKEN  BY  AYLIN  SAHIN  .

PLATONIC  SOULMATE  :  best  friends  ,  but  make  it  sentimental  .  they  are  thicker  than  thieves  ,  get  on  each  other’s  nerves  ,  but  they  don’t  know  what  they’d  do  without  the  other  .  finish  each  other’s  sentences  (  and  sandwiches  .  sung  will  finish  it  )  and  are  borderline  like  an  old  married  couple  with  the  way  they  act  .

that’s  all  i  got  now  but  i’ve  reblogged  some  posts  that  can  be  found  HERE  and  i’m  down  to  fill  any  wcs  that  you  may  have  as  well  !

[tamakiamajikistentacles]

Disappearance 2: The Sighting {Katsuki Bakugo}

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! Thank you all so much for your support with this story so far, I hope you continue to enjoy it!

Disappearance Masterlist

He dreamt of Chiasa often.

On bad nights his mind created terrible scenarios about who she was with and where she was and what was happening to her. Other better nights let him fantasize about finding her and bringing her back to his agency with a smug grin as he reunited with the love of his life.

Most nights, though, his dreams were memories. Soft around the edges and sometimes fuzzy in detail, but as real as he could remember.

That night he had a dream about finding their first apartment for just themselves. It was going to be a far cry from sharing a townhome with Kaminari and Jiro, mostly because it wasn’t going to be as cluttered and full of ridiculous pranks but also because it would finally be theirs.

He could vividly remember coming home from one of the early meetings with the Hero Public Safety Commission about starting his own agency and seeing her in the sitting room practically vibrating with excitement. She’d pulled him down beside her and all but shoved her tablet into his face to look at what she’d found, declaring that their search was over.

And it had been. The building had twenty-four security and desk staff, keycard resident entry, and was in a safer neighborhood with a low crime rate. He could see it was a short walk to the nearest train station and if he got the approval for his agency and secured the building he wanted, it wouldn’t be a long commute at all. Two bedrooms was well within their budget and would allow her to have a dedicated office space for her work from home position instead of her current setup at the foot of their bed.

He didn’t realize he’d been grinning until she poked his cheek and asked an impatient, “Well?”

“Let’s apply.”

She let out a happy squeal as she threw her arms around his shoulders, kissing his face repeatedly as he tried to keep a hold on her tablet. Her grip only seemed to grow tighter the more he weakly fought her embrace.

“Katsuki, this is going to be amazing!” she laughed, kissing his temple one final time as she pulled back slightly to cuddle against him. This time he didn’t fight the embrace, instead wrapping an arm around her to keep her close.

He’d scoffed. “’Course it’ll be amazing. It’s you and me.”

“You and me,” she agreed with a smile.

He could hear her saying those words as clear as day in his memories. It had started as a joke about the first time they’d gone out alone without friends; he’d asked her if she wanted to go to a new mochi shop and she immediately went to text the rest of their friends before he stopped her, grunting, “You and me.”

After some time it just became theirs. Three words with just as much weight as I love you. It was a simple way to say more important things—“I’m here for you” and “We’re in this together” and “The two of us cannot be broken.”

It was a part of how their bond became as strong as it did, and he missed hearing it in person.

Cool, early September air was left behind as the door to his agency closed behind him. He wasn’t thrilled with the weather beginning to take a turn towards lower temperatures, knowing his quirk took longer to build up its power. As much as he hated being called a “slow starter” in the winter it wasn’t entirely untrue.

Hikari greeted him with a curt good morning as he passed her desk and slid a few papers his way without looking up. He grabbed them and in their place set down a travel mug of peppermint tea and a small blue bento, his own low mornin’ barely audible.

Making his way to his office he looked over the patrol routes for the day and the notations about the current goings-on of the areas. It was fairly run-of-the-mill with little suspected villain activity, a perfect time to allow some of the newer sidekicks and interns to tag along with his people for the day.

Surprisingly this was one of the things he enjoyed about running his own agency. Planning and strategizing were some of his strong suits despite how much he did enjoy blasting headfirst into battle when he could. But as the man in charge he liked being control of where his people were posted a lot too.

He had already decided who would be taking which patrol by the time everyone was gathered in the large conference room in their hero costumes, some more bleary-eyed than others. Mugs of coffee and tea billowed steam above the table and Kirishima’s branded shaker bottle stood taller than all of them.

Kaminari yawned lazily and Sero elbowed him in the ribs at the stern glare of their boss.

“Three sectors, little activity save for the corner tea shop on route 2B,” he started as everyone turned their eyes towards him. “Cellophane and Pinky, you two are taking the sidekicks to sector 1. Route A to Cellophane, B to Pinky. Choose your sidekicks and report it before you leave.”

The two heroes fist bumped and shot grins and thumbs up towards the sidekicks across the table from them. They were the best to get collaboration on the brain when it came to the newer recruits.

“Sector 2 goes to Red Riot and Chargebolt. Red, you’re on route A with the two interns and Chargebolt you’re taking route B so make sure that shitty shop isn’t getting worse.”

He knew that Kirishima was the perfect option for guiding the wide-eyed interns through some of their first tastes of the hero life. Plus, he was the best defense if trouble arose and backup would take time.

“I’m taking sector 3 myself. Questions?” When no one responded, he concluded, “Alright, get out there.”

Kaminari shot a smile to everyone he came across on his patrol. Chargebolt was a well-liked figure and regarded very highly as a personable hero when spotted in public. He was proud to have cultivated that good will with the people and was oftentimes the one who handled the media for the Dynamight agency alongside Kirishima, Red Riot’s popularity one of the only heroes higher than himself.

Quieter times to stop and chat with his fans were always his favorite but days like this that required more vigilance he did what he could with smiles and waves to those he saw. Even if there was only suspected villain activity at the tiny tea shop across from the mall he had to keep a close eye on it.

He tried to spend as much time as he could with the shop in view while still patrolling the rest of the route. Nothing of note caught his attention all morning and well into the afternoon.

Then the afterschool crowd and post workday crowds filled the area. He began to see a few suspicious characters that he reported back to the agency when he had a chance, but none of them gave any other indication of wrongdoing. He preferred to be thorough, though, just like Bakugo liked.

Half a dozen notes later, as the sun was low in the sky, he started to plan his evening once he got home. Jiro had the day off which meant she would spend most of it in the studio and bring home their favorite takeout. She was always in a great mood after a day in the studio too, and he loved seeing her so happy.

The tinkling bell of the tea shop’s door opening brought him from his thoughts and his gaze fell on a scraggly-haired brunette stepping into the evening air. From where he was down the street, he could see her pull the hand of a small boy to come stand by her on the sidewalk. Dark, matted hair sat atop his head and he scratched at the arm the woman held.

The closer he got the more he noticed about them—the woman’s ill-fitting dress and oversized sweater in much warmer contrast to the boy’s too short jeans and short sleeved tshirt. The boy shook from the cold and he quickened his pace, everything in him ready to shrug off his jacket and wrap the child in it while giving a few choice words to the mother.

As he approached he saw the woman’s eyes darting furiously as she hurriedly crossed towards one of the mall’s department store entrances, the boy shuffling along beside her as he went from scratching his arm to scratching his neck. Her grip on his arm looked tighter than it should be, and she walked quickly with no regard for if he could keep up with her longer strides.

Kaminari took in as many details as possibly as he began crossing too before stopping dead in his tracks in the crosswalk when the woman turned and said something to the boy. Her profile fit all of his observations in place and he tried to make himself move forward to confirm what he thought he was seeing.

By the time his body started to cooperate the duo had disappeared into the crowded department store and he was left at the door with only startled suspicions and half-formed what if scenarios in his mind. He had to tell someone, someone other than Bakugo who would surely fly off the handle on him for losing sight of the woman.

As he went to radio Kirishima, his comm came on with an incoming message from the redhead instead—“Charge, rendezvous in twenty at our starting point to head back to the agency?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed breathlessly. “Yeah, I’ll see you there.”

Kirishima nudged him in the side, concerned for his usually loud blonde friend who had barely said a word on their journey back to the agency. “Are you okay, man? You’re never this quiet.”

Kaminari chewed the inside of his cheek as he pulled on his street clothes. With a sigh he ruffled his hair with his hand before rubbing his face.

“I saw something weird on my route at the tea shop.”

“Oh damn, what happened? Did you let Bakugo know yet? You know he needs those villain updates as soon as possible.”

He waved his hands to stop the questions. “No, I didn’t tell him yet but it wasn’t… I don’t know if it was villains.”

The redhead’s eyebrows knitted together. “Then what was so weird?”

“Right before you radioed me near the end of patrol I was finishing notes on some shady people around the shop when this lady and kid stepped out. They both looked, I don’t know, greasy? And she was dressed warm while the little boy she was with was shivering in just a tshirt.”

“That’s not exactly our kind of suspicious, dude, but we can—"

“But the fact that she looked like Chiasa is suspicious!”

Kirishima froze, whispering, “What?”

He nodded. “She looked like Chiasa with longer hair.”

“With… with a kid?”

“Yeah, little dark-haired kid that kept scratching at his arms and neck. I felt so bad for the little guy, he looked so cold—”

“Kaminari, focus!” Kirishima said harshly, cutting off his rambling. “We need to tell Bakugo. Even if it’s not her, he needs this lead. He has to see it through. On the off chance it is actually her… I don’t even know how he could react.”

“Plus she has a lot of explaining to do about where she’s been,” Kaminari sighed. “It’s been so long.”

Kirishima nodded sadly. “It has, but we need to let Bakugo lead on this. Whether or not it was really her and will get him closer to finding her, I don’t know. But he needs to do this. It’s the only way for him to move forward.”

Closing their lockers, they gathered their bags and made their way to their small shared office. The day being fairly quiet aside from the two brunettes being sighted allowed them to finish their patrol reports quickly and send them to Bakugo for his review.

They knew he waited until all reports were received to begin looking them over and they had never been more grateful for Mina’s inability to focus, knowing for a fact that she was always the last person to submit her reports. Passing her still in costume talking animatedly to the sidekicks about their day let them know that this time wasn’t going to be any different. It allowed them to speak with Bakugo before he had to read the information and hopefully let them do damage control too.

Hikari was just leaving his office as they came to the doorway, a tired smile on her lips as she shuffled the papers in her hands.

Kaminari knocked on the doorframe as she passed them to head back to her desk and without looking up was called in by their friend and boss.

“What?” he grunted, continuing to loosen his gauntlets to set them aside. Unlike the rest of them he preferred to write his reports before changing completely.

Kaminari cleared his throat awkwardly, feeling Kirishima’s hand on his shoulder for support. As long as he’d known Bakugo and been on the receiving end of his temper and explosions, this had to be one of the most nerve-wracking conversations he was going to start.

“I’ve got some news from my patrol today.”

Red eyes snapped up to meet his. “Villains at the tea shop? What happened? Was it in your report? You never called for backup and I know we didn’t have anyone detained in any of our sectors.”

He spoke quickly, his shoulders tensing with each word as he prepared himself to don his gauntlets once again to find whoever was stirring up trouble in his agency’s territory.

“No, no, it was just an observation but I wanted to tell you about it in person—”

“Then spit it out!”

“I think… I think it’s possible that I saw Chiasa come out of the tea shop with a little dark-haired boy. I’m not one-hundred percent sure if it was her but it sure as hell looked like her.”

Bakugo stood rigid behind his desk. Over four years of not a single clue as to where she was or if she was safe and now she reappeared right in his agency’s backyard. If it was her.

He would pull all the surveillance he could find in the area based on Kaminari’s report and go through it with a fine-toothed comb. He would know if it were her. There was no one he knew better.

If he decided it was her then their patrol routes were about to get a shakeup and he was about to get answers years in the making. But that was for him to know, at least for now.

“I’ll review your report. Send Hikari back on your way out and I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said evenly.

The two other heroes exchanged surprised looks, expecting a much bigger reaction than a few long moments of silence. They watched him sit down and start his computer, his body language tense but not to the level they had anticipated.

“You don’t want to—”

“I’ll see you both tomorrow,” he repeated, eyes flicking up to see their stunned faces. He watched them blankly until they seemed to take the hint ad turned to leave.

He sat alone typing his report after making his request to Hikari to go through the proper channels for the surveillance footage he wanted and warning her that he would likely need more after reviewing Kaminari’s report. She didn’t seem to mind, letting him know that she would tell him as soon as the requested film came in.

So until then he sat in his office allowing himself to grasp onto this small straw of hope, holding tight to the first real evidence he’d had in years that he might be able to use to bring her home.

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated!

Disappearance Masterlist

[justreadingfics]

Looking For A Heartbeat (23/26)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Series Summary: You and Bucky used to be in a relationship. Feelings were hurt, you left.  It’s been two years and you’re back. You both will handle the reunion well, won’t you?

Word Count: 7K

Warnings for this chapter: angst and an author that really doesn’t wanna spoil anything. If there’s anything you absolutely can’t read and you wanna make sure it’s not in the chapter, dm me. 

A/N:  Thank you @suz-123 for being so amazing. I’m finally with my new laptop so I hope to be able to write more frequently. I’m really sorry for being such a messy  and slow writer, but thank you for staying with me. I really hope you like this chapter, it’s a special one!

Perfect.

That’s the conclusion you come to while you walk around the terrace of your apartment, filled with balloons, happy birthday signs, a huge table with cake and all kinds of colored sweets, matching the Unicorn theme decorations and a lot of different toys.

Summer’s first birthday.

Looking back, you can’t believe it’s already been a year, it feels like everything is happening too fast. A lot of firsts happened in that time: her first tooth, the first time she crawled towards Bucky, her first haircut, the first word… That was a special one. The three of you were in the living room and the TV was on while you and Bucky played with her on the carpet. At some point, your baby daughter´s attention diverted from the toys and she pointed at the TV, and a perfectly pronounced “mama” came out of her lips. You and Bucky looked at each other with widened eyes, and, while she kept repeating her very first word, you turned around to see your image on the TV, dirty and battered, at a press conference after a particularly tough mission. Needless to say, your heart turned into a puddle and you attacked her chubby cheeks with thousands of kisses pulling out giggles from the baby. You could tell daddy was happy but a little bit jealous, just a little bit… however, only a couple of days after and she added “dada” to her vocabulary, making a crying mess of her softie dad.  

The one first thing she has yet to go through is her first step. She’ll get there, though. No need to rush. Dr. Nadine has explained more than once that her enhanced DNA could show how far it would affect her abilities at any moment throughout her development and they had no way to estimate exactly how and if it would happen. For now, you’re thankful she’s a healthy baby and has her own pace on things. 

You can’t wait to see her little face when she sees her first party. You and Bucky decided to go for the unicorn theme because that stuffed unicorn, the first one Bucky got her when she wasn't even born yet, it’s her absolute favorite and they're inseparable. The poor thing is old, dirty and torn in one too many places, but when you tried to replace it with a brand new one, all you gained in return was tears and a very irate baby.

Yeah, she’ll love it.

As you supervise the last details, checking if the decorations, music, food and drinks are all set and waiting for the guests, Bucky gets Summer ready. She's slept all morning so hopefully she´ll enjoy her party properly. You decided to celebrate it at your own home, since it’s big enough to accommodate the number of guests and, at the same time, it’s cozier than the party rooms available at the Tower. You opened the living room’s glass doors, which goes to the terrace, moved the furniture to allow more space and it worked out pretty well. It’ll be good, you’re confident.

The timing is also perfect since the team does need some good distraction… the last month has been tough. Zemo got out of prison and everything led you guys to believe HYDRA is behind it and helping him hide. At what purpose you still have to figure out. But the thing is, there’s nothing on his whereabouts yet and, in the meantime, you and your friends will stop everything to celebrate your little girl’s first year.

“Hey, mama! Look who’s ready to shine.”

You’re organizing cone hats over the table at the terrace when our gaze lifts to Bucky walking into the living room holding the cutest – and most dolled up - baby you’ve ever seen.

“Oh, my God.” You cover your mouth with both hands and rush to meet them, “Aren’t you the most beautiful birthday girl ever?” You take Summer in your arms while gushing at  her.

She brings her hands to the pair of pigtails over her head, as if to show you them, “Dada,” she happily babbles.  

The two proud parents laugh and Bucky pecks her cheek to her absolute delight.

“Yes, Dada made your hair really pretty and chose you the most gorgeous outfit, hasn’t he?” She does look incredibly endearing in a pink tutu dress with a few shades of blue on the skirt alluding to the party, blue little party shoes matching the two tiny bows adorning her pigtails. Bucky always makes sure to pamper her and on her first birthday you expected nothing less.

“She looks cute anyway.” He shrugs, but the pride is obvious on his smile and puffed chest. “You look beautiful, too.” He adds softly as his eyes drop to the floral summer dress you chose for the occasion.

You swallow as a wave of warmth reaches your cheeks, “You, too.” He sure does handsome as ever in his customary jeans and white t-shirt. Despite still not going to missions, he keeps his daily workouts, whose results are evident on the muscles straining the fabric covering his arms and chest. Since Summer loves to play with his hair – a preference she may have gotten from you - he’s been keeping his locks in a longer length, right above his shoulders. God, he’s beautiful.

 “One year… can you believe it?” He says softly, taking you out of your gawking and stepping closer, bringing his hand over yours on Summer’s back.

You sigh deeply at the warm touch before whispering, “One year…”

“I don't remember ever being this happy…” His voice is tender and low while he speaks, “Looks like we’ve made it, right? Together.”  He bores his deeply blue eyes on yours while slowly caressing the back of your hand with his thumb.

You sigh and tighten your lips in a small smile as his touch sends shivers through your skin. You don’t remember ever being this happy either but you’ve been thinking more and more about what Wanda said at Pepper’s party. What exactly have you been doing all this time? What are you? A couple? Friends? Co-parents? To be honest, you think you’ve been leaning a lot on the excuse of parenting Summer to not address and hold back your true feelings and, at the same time, to stay close to him as much as you can… How long can you keep up with this?

A loud squeak makes you notice Summer squirming in your arms. You know exactly what she wants, “Ahm, I think I’ll nurse her before everyone arrives, or else she’ll get too agitated,” you say and Bucky nods in agreement, seeming lost on his own thoughts as well.

~~~

It's a cheerful and loud afternoon. All your friends are there, along with some parents with their kids, whom you and Bucky have met when you started taking Summer to the nearest park regularly. You do it mostly together, but when you are on missions he goes alone and Summer, being as sociable and lovely as she can be, has become fast friends with a lot of kids, even the older ones, so it made sense to you to invite everyone who loves her to the party.  

Speaking of the little girl, after you nursed her and the guests started arriving, you almost don’t get to hold her anymore, as she goes from lap to lap when she’s not playing with her friends or attached to Thor’s hips. The God of Thunder stopped by just to attend her party, which makes her so happy, reaching out for him to grab her and pointing to all kinds of directions so he can take her and also play with her friends, for all the kids delight. It’s like the one year old just knows he’s everyone’s favorite and wants to share her uncle with them.  

Harry and the twins are there, too, being some of the firsts guests to arrive. It turns out Bucky was the only one who didn’t know about Harry and Nat. Everyone had already caught on when they decided to make it official and it was absolutely no big news. Even for the now five year old twins. Luna just couldn’t understand why they were treating something she already knew for so long as such a big deal when the couple put on a special picnic to tell them. Auntie Nat was very proud and, for her relief and Harry’s, she has been a success with both Luna and Jon. 

The party has been going on for a little more than an hour when you finally get to pick Summer up to check if she needs a change or something to eat or drink. Across the room, you spot Bucky talking to Steve. Seeing you picking up Summer, he raises his eyebrows as if asking if he was needed. You dismiss him with a wave and he smiles, while you sit on the couch, Summer in your arms. The bell rings and, as you make sure Summer doesn’t need a change yet, putting her standing on your lap and taking a peek beneath her diaper while the one-year old babbles and bounces on her chubby legs, Bucky goes for the door. You can’t imagine who it might be, since everyone you remember inviting is already there.

“Hey, you made it.” Bucky greets the person in front of him.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it.”

Your heart and your hands stop at the voice you haven’t heard for a long time.  

Your gaze follows the sounds of cheerful greeting and meet the sight by the door. Everything and everyone else around fade out as the two of them say hello to each other and Bucky invites her in.

Anna.

He doesn’t seem surprised by her presence. He seems… comfortable. Even…happy to see her. Did he invite her? Without telling you? When?

You don’t even know how, but you’re already standing up, Summer securely attached to your hip, when the pair starts walking towards you, huge smiles on their faces.

“Here’s the birthday girl,” Bucky announces when they approach you. They’re both smiling still so you put on one for yourself. Or at least you try to, if you succeed you’re not sure. Bucky seems relaxed…  you see no disturbance on his demeanor despite the turmoil surfacing inside you, nothing that could hint he is as thrown as you are by Anna’s unexpected – at least for you- presence.

“Hello, happy birthday, Summer.”

It’s nothing but a reflex when you hold Summer tighter in your arms and take a tiny, almost unnoticeable step back when Anna stretches her arms with a wrapped box on her hands and greets your daughter. Her wide smile slips a bit as her widening gaze flashes up at you.

It seems like your step back wasn’t as tiny and unnoticeable for her.  

“Ahm, hi, Anna.” You force a calm voice out of you, “Thank you so much,” You reach for the gift, “I’ll put it with the other ones for Summer to open in a bit.” You nod as a vein pulses on your neck, “Ahm, it’s been a while.” You add, trying hard to keep your voice steady.

Summer starts smacking the box repeatedly as delighted loud sounds come out of her lips, making her dad smile at her and move to cup her cheek lovingly. Both dad and daughter oblivious to the tension thickening the air.

Anna’s eyelids drop and her gaze grounds to the floor. She nibbles on her lower lip, fidgeting with her fingers…thinking… it feels like she’s searching for something to say but is failing…

“Oh, yeah,” Bucky says, still focusing on Summer as she succeeds to steal the box with Anna’s gift from your hands and starts shaking it. “I ran into Anna in that coffee shop nearby the park the other day, can you believe that? It was two or three weeks ago, you were on that mission with Sam. I thought I had told you, haven’t I?” He looks at you and tilts his head to the side.

“No, no you didn’t”. Your stare is hard on him, but you don’t care.  

“Oh,” it slips out of his lips as his eyebrows furrow.

“Y/n, I thought you knew, I can-”  

“You don’t need to worry, Anna.” You interrupt her attempt to say something. “It’s just that I…I was just surprised to see you… that’s all.” You try to form a kind smile on your face. This is your kid’s first party, you really don’t want to ruin it by making a scene or forcing someone to leave. Even if this someone is Anna, a woman who makes your hands shake and your spine freeze with pure… Fuck… It’s irrational and a little unfair, but it is what it is, “You make yourself at home.” You nod, keeping the smile tight in your face.

She seems like she is going to protest when a couple of agents of SHIELD, that certainly must’ve been friends with her when she worked there calls her from across the room. Anna shoots you an apologetic look before thanking you and walking over them. Without actually addressing to Bucky in any way again.   

 “Hey-” Bucky starts when she’s out of reach.

“It’s almost time for presents and cake,” You cut him, “I’m gonna give Summer something to eat so she doesn’t get cranky.”

“Alright,” he nods, “Let me-”

“It’s ok.” You raise a hand when he moves to grab Summer, “You go entertain your guests.” The harsh words slip out without warning, sheer venom lacing your tongue. The words are bitter, because that’s exactly how you’re feeling. You ignore the crease between Bucky’s eyebrows to strut towards Nat and Harry at the terrace, not giving him space to say anything else.

Bitterness and coldness are all you present him with every single time he tries to interact with you after that moment. You can’t help yourself. You’re mad, angry, disappointed, you feel sick in your stomach, you wanna scream, you’re… you’re jealous. You’re damn jealous, not that you’re proud of it, but you are. You know you have no right to feel that way… but then again, don’t you really? Shouldn’t he have told you he met Anna after all that time? Let alone that he invited her to your daughter’s first birthday? Why didn’t he? Was that just it? Just a casual encounter? Or maybe he was in touch with her all this time? He had never mentioned her again… And no, you’re not in a romantic relationship with him but what you have built so far together had to mean something… He should’ve told you. It’s about respect… nothing else.

No matter how much you fight it, your gaze always ends up seeking for her. You dismiss all questions of concern from mostly Wanda and Nat. It’s fine, you lie. To Anna’s credit, though, she keeps it to herself. You’ve spot some of your friends greeting her, but she stays next to the SHIELD agents most of the time and doesn’t approach Bucky again. You hate to allow all this situation to somehow taint the experience of your daughter’s first birthday and therefore you’re even madder at Bucky, no matter how childish it makes you seem.

“Anna is what I need…She’s the one for me.”

Even after everything that transpired afterwards, you’ve never forgotten those words he said to you that night. The night he chose Anna. Those are the words repeating in your brain now and breaking your heart all over again, bringing out memories of nights spent awake thinking about him and her together, holding each other. The damn terror that he finally comes to his senses, again, and realizes that, indeed, she’s the one for him, lodges itself in your chest again.

The words keep haunting your mind while everyone gathers to watch Summer opening the presents. You and Bucky side by side as the gifts are delivered to your daughter on his lap. The little girl, by the way, seems much more interested in the papers and bags rather than the actual presents inside, playing and trying to hold all of them at once. That makes your heavy heart a bit lighter as you giggle at her antics. You try not to think too much of how Bucky seems to insistently gain your attention and you never engage fully when he tries to share a word or a laugh with you.

After all the presents are opened, Summer is enjoying herself with some of her friends, finally giving her new toys a chance with Bucky’s close supervision. You decide it's almost time for the cake and go to the kitchen to pick it up from the fridge.   

 “Y/N?”

You’re closing the fridge’s door with your elbow, huge chocolate cake in hands when Anna quietly calls your name. Not really expecting to have to talk to her again, the breath catches in your throat before you turn around to see her.

“Oh, do you need help?” She steps to you when she spots the cake in your hands.

“It’s ok. It’s not as heavy as it looks.” You quickly dismiss her offer. Does she want something? Why has she followed you to the kitchen?

She halts, “Ahm, Can I talk to you for a second?”

You use a moment to take a good look at her. Her plunged shoulders make her seem small as she looks up at you through her eyelashes expectantly, almost sheepishly. She’s nervous.  You sigh and step forwards to carefully place the cake on the balcony. There are plenty of stools for both of you to take a seat, but you prefer to keep standing up when you nod at her, “Sure.”

“I’m sorry for today,” She doesn’t take a breath before speaking, “I really thought Bucky had told you. Like he said, we ran against each other on a coffee shop, I don’t even remember which one. He walked in to use the bathroom, he needed to change Summer or something.” She narrows her eyebrows before her features softens, “She’s beautiful by the way… ahm, we hadn’t seen each other for a long time and he stopped to talk for a bit. It was five minutes. He mentioned Summer’s birthday and ended up inviting me to come. I-I, he seemed so carefree and casual, I thought it wouldn’t be a problem If I dropped by… I really missed everyone and…” Her head drops as she sighs deeply, “I should’ve thought things through better.

You let her words sink in. She talked fast, urgently. The way she keeps looking back at you, pleading…It seems important for her that you believe what she’s saying and, in fact, you do.

“It’s ok, Anna.” You relent, letting your posture lose the stiffness, “I mean… I’m not gonna pretend I expected to see you here… but I… I just wish he would’ve told me beforehand…” You admit in a murmur, choosing to omit the part where her presence made you jealous as fuck. You’re not sure if Anna is aware of what’s the status of your relationship with Bucky and you rather keep it that way for some reason.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it.” She says, waving both her hands and taking a step forward, “He might have just forgotten. I know planning a birthday party is a lot…”

Even if you’re now assured that they haven’t been meeting and it was just a casual encounter and despite her trying to soothe you and justify his omission, you’re not convinced. The fact he hasn’t told you anything still bothers the hell out of you, “Anyway…” You shake your head dismissively, “Don’t worry, it’s fine, Anna. So, how’ve you been doing?” You’re not sure exactly why you’re asking it, maybe to try and make the tension still lingering a little easier to bear.

Her lips open and her brows raise. Anna sure wasn’t expecting your question, either, “Oh…yeah, I’m good. it’s been a good year actually,” She licks her lips, “I stopped practicing, have been focused on studying… I’m engaged.” She lifts her hand, showing the beautiful diamond on her finger.  

Your jaw drops. How the hell haven’t you seen this?

“Oh, wow, congratulations.” You greet, sounding as stunned as you really are.

“I’ve met him during PHD classes.” The smile on her lips is easy and dreaming, “He proposed in three months, my Jeromy. Seems a bit rushed, but when you know, you know, right?” She shrugs.

For the first time since she walked through the door of your home, you don’t have to force it when you smile at her. She’s right. When you know you know, even if, sometimes, pretending you don’t seems easier…

“Bucky invited him, too, but he’s giving a lecture now.”  She informs.

Silence falls back between you two. After the news of her engagement – which helps to ease down the tension a bit more- you don’t know what else to say to her, but she seems like she’s not done yet. She places her hand on the back pockets of her jeans, and takes in a long breath as her eyes drop to the floor before she speaks again.

“Listen Y’/N, there’s something else I’ve been meaning to tell you for a very long time…” She looks up at you.

You tilt your head, encouraging her to go on.

“I’m sorry for that day…” Anna murmurs, “For coming saying all those things to you before… before you got into the accident.” She swallows.

Oh…that.

“Anna…” you try.

“No, really.” She insists, “I know you don’t blame me. Bucky told me as much the last time we spoke when you were still pregnant. Maybe I didn’t directly cause the accident, but I shouldn’t have come, anyway.” The regret is heavy on her voice, “I tried to manipulate a situation in favor of my own interests with the excuse I was doing it for Bucky. Now I can see that and how messed up it was. I’m sorry.”

You see the guilt still tormenting her. You never really think about that accident anymore and you can see it still haunts her. And, after all, coming to talk to you that day and everything else… you know she was in love with Bucky. It was stupid, but who are you to judge, anyway. Anna ended up caught up in the mess of you and Bucky. Suddenly you feel a little bad for how you’ve been acting today. You know she’s not a threat, even if you can’t help but still dread what she somehow represents to you: that, maybe, there’s something or someone else out there better for Bucky and he can leave you, or whatever this is what you have, can end at any moment.

“We all make mistakes, Anna.” Your answer is firm, “And, yes, I really don’t blame you. What happened, happened, and it’s in the past. Everything turned out fine.”

A loud squeal catches both of your attentions and through the opened door, you see Bucky throwing Summer to the air as the little one screams with sheer joy. His smile just as big as hers.

“I’m so glad he’s that happy. He deserves it.” Anna grins, when she turns back to you.

Your gaze remains stuck on your little family. He really is happy. And so are you… even if it’s not complete and you’ve been denying yourself an attempt of being fully happy beside him by admitting how much you still love him and need him by your side as more than Summer’s father. What you already achieved with him is more than you’ve ever dreamed of after running away like you did all these years ago. The thought of anything ruining this happiness, whether someone else or your own stupidity, makes it hard for you to breathe. 

“Anyway, I guess it’s better if I go now.” Anna cuts through the small silence.  

“Oh, no, Anna.” You quickly protest, turning your gaze back to her, “It’s time for the cake. Stay. It’s ok, really.” You softly assure her, “To be honest, I could actually use some help, Steve ordered like 3 tons of cake here.”

You offer her a smile, which she kindly accepts by answering you with one of her own and a small thankful nod.  

~~~~

It’s already dark when the last guests say goodbye. After striking up a battle with sleep to keep playing, Summer finally lost to exhaustion and passed out on Steve’s lap. Now, after cleaning everything up with the help of your friends, you’re at last relaxing on one of the loungers in your terrace eating a piece of the cake, while Bucky gives Summer a bath and puts her to sleep. Since she’s a heavy sleeper and almost nothing wakes her up after she dozes off, it is not uncommon for you two to bathe or change her while the little girl sleeps like a rock.

All in all, it was a good day. After your talk with Anna you were able to properly enjoy the rest of the party. Watching Summer clapping her little hands along with everyone else while they sang her happy birthday will always be held in your heart. Summer had a blast on her first birthday, even if she still doesn’t really get the meaning of it. Everything was worth it.

But now, that the buzz of the party is gone and you find yourself alone with your thoughts, that ugly, toxic feeling comes back to bite the pit of your stomach. You can only define it as jealousy and… and fear. Both feelings holding a grasp around your throat… slowly taking the air out of your lungs…suffocating you. You haven’t really talked to Bucky again at the party…Why didn’t he tell you about meeting Anna, about inviting her?

Yeah, you’re still damn annoyed.

You hear his steps when he walks into the terrace, but you don’t turn to him. You don’t move from your spot, staring ahead to the skyline through the glass windows when he sits on the lounger beside you and places the baby monitor – which, by the way, is Friday showing the image of you daughter peacefully sleeping on her crib - on the small round table between you two.

“She was exhausted, slept while I bathed her, but kept clapping her hands. She might’ve been dreaming... it was so cute,” He chuckles quietly, and continues when you just hum an answer and don’t look at him, “She didn’t even stir when I put on her pjs, and you know how much she hates putting on her pjs. She’ll probably sleep late tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” You answer plainly, shoving a huge piece of cake in your mouth.

“It was a great first party wasn’t it?”

You scoff, swallowing the cake and biting your tongue to just don’t spit the growing irritation inside you all over him, “For the most part, yeah.”

“Are you ok?”

From the corner of your eyes, you catch him leaning over to be able to see your face, since you have yet to look at him.

“I’m fine.” You grumble.

“Ok, it’s just that…I’ve noticed you were a little off-”

“Oh, have you?” Your face snaps to him, “What a perceptive genius you are.”

“Oh, hey…Where is that coming from?”

“You invited Anna?” You finally let it out of your chest, desperate to finally let loose the grip on your throat, “I haven’t heard a single word from her for more than one year and then she comes to our daughter's first birthday party? Have you been seeing her?” You know he hasn’t, you know that, but you can’t control your tongue, you want this fight. For some reason, you want to fight him, yell at him. Even hurt him.

“What? No, of course not, I-”

“Don’t tell me. You don’t need to say anything.” You swiftly get up, stomping your feet, as the plate with the cake makes a tingling noise for being roughly placed on the table next to the baby monitor, “Forget I said anything. You don’t owe me an explanation, it’s not like we have anything to do with each other-”

“Hey, hey, what the hell?” When you try to storm your way passed him, he stands up and grabs you by the arm and you jerk back before he turns you to him. Your face is so close to his, your bodies only an inch from each other, you feel the warmth rolling off of him to you. Your angry heart beats faster and when he tries to pull you even closer to him you smack him across his chest. “I haven’t been seeing Anna.” He continues, gaze fixed on you, unfazed by your attempt to shove him away. “I’ve met her by chance the other day, Summer played with her, Anna asked how old she was and I ended up inviting her to drop by, I didn’t even think-”

“What? You didn’t even think of me?” You challenge, raising your chin up, “You could’ve told me, Bucky,” The defiance sweeps into your voice. But you don’t try to get away from his touch again. It burns you in a much too familiar and longed way.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He pleads, “But do you wanna know why I didn’t tell you?” His eyes are frantic, roaming around every inch of your face, “I forgot. I just forgot because it didn’t feel important at all. Seeing Anna again didn’t mean anything… it was like meeting someone I used to know a very long time ago and that was all that it was… a turned page of my life. Summer was there and we were in the middle of planning the birthday, I just invited her… I didn’t even think about it again, but If I knew it would make you so upset, I would’ve never done this. I’m sorry.”  

His eyes settle on yours. Even if his look is still filled with despair, just like his words, beg for you to understand, it somehow calms you. The fear that has been making your heart shrink, that the encounter with Anna had maybe awakened something inside him, a realization that he deserves more than you… that fear fades, allowing you to take in a deep breath, “Ok… ok. I have no right to be upset,” Your eyes shut, “I just…”

“I didn’t even think of you? We don’t have anything to do with each other?” The hold on you becomes stronger as he turns your own phrases into offended questions and you look back at him while his eyes narrow, “Why would you say that when you mean everything to me and you’re what I think about all the fucking time?”  

Your heartbeats are loud in your ears as your knees buckle, “Bucky…” you breathe, bringing your hand to cup his cheek. His eyes flutter close and he leans against you. Your chest could explode at his admission… Not once in the last year of spending almost all the time together he had said something like that to you. That Wanda’s question creeps up to your mind again, “Bucky,” you call, and his eyes open to you, “What the hell are we even doing here?” You ask softly as tears well up in your eyes.

“What do you mean?” He asks, letting go of your arm to wipe one tear of the corner of your eyes with the back of his finger.

“This.” You cease the touch on his face and step back, waving back and forth between you two, “This whole year? You never… you never said anything like that.” Your voice comes out tiny, “I’m the one to ask. What do you mean by it? This life… What are we doing? What the hell are we?”  

For a moment he just looks at you, breathing… thinking…“I don’t know.” He says, “We’re us, I guess.” He steps forward, making the distance you’ve just added between you two smaller, “I don’t know if what we’re doing is right, if we’re fooling ourselves… all I know is that this is where I belong. With you. With Summer...”

Your gaze drops. That’s it. Summer. She’s yours and his whole world and she’s the only thing holding him with-

“With you, baby…” He speaks quickly as if he’s reading your mind while both of his hands cup your face. The contrast between warm skin and cold metal you love so much because it means it’s him “I belong with you… This whole year… this whole time there wasn’t a minute when I didn’t think about kissing you.”

You hold your breath when he rushes a bit forward but halts, like he’s holding back the impulse to kiss you. He licks his lips, burying his eyes into yours. A single tear rolled down his cheek, “I buried everything inside me because what if you didn’t want this… what if I scared you again… what if you left me? If you leave me-”

He couldn't finish his sentence because your lean forward and capture his lips into yours. What if you leave him? Is this what he’s been thinking? You’ll show him, you’ll show him…

He kisses you back instantly. And of course the kiss is desperate, of course is eager and sloppy, because that’s what you both are now. Desperate to show each other everything you two have been keeping inside this whole year. All the want… all the desire, the need. The love. All of you.

Metal hand drops to your waist and pulls you to him while the flesh one rests on the back of your neck. But they don’t lodge there for long as they run all over your body. Fast… Hard. He pushes his tongue through your lips and you fist the fabric of his shirt on his back with one hand while the other snakes up and digs on his loose locks. God, you missed him. You missed this. It’s old, it’s home but also it’s like something you never tasted before. A relearned love.

Without parting your lips from his you step forward and he follows your lead, stepping back till his knees meet the side of the lounger. You break the kiss only for a second before pushing him backwards so he can sit on it. Sheer want rules your moves when you quickly straddle him and close your lips around his again. A whimper sweeps into your mouth when he grabs your ass. Your body move on its own when you rock into him. Feeling all of him. Hard and longing for you against your core, setting it to flames.  

A hand of yours dips beneath his shirt, roaming over that enticing path of little hairs right above his pants before your nails scratches up higher on his broad body. With a gasp, he breaks apart from your lips, only to drag his mouth down your jaw and neck. Licking and sucking and biting… Marking you as you hiss in delightful pain, a kind of pain that can soothe the ache of not having him for so long.

“I love you,” His voice is rough and breathless when he whispers against your heated skin, as lips kiss and hands and fingers touch, stroke, grab. “I’ve loved you for so long, baby.” He reaches your ear with his lips and you pull his locks harder.

“God, I love you too.” You’re a mess of tears, smiles and soft whimpers as you keep kissing and touching him, never wanting to stop, wishing that you could somehow imprint his body and soul into yours and never let go.

“There’s no one else for me. I was so stupid…” He whispers, “I love you. I love you.” He repeats, between soft and long kisses on your neck, “Only you. All this time, all I ever wanted was you… There’s no one else. You don’t have to be jealous…” His grips on your body becomes impossibly stronger, “I was so scared, so damn scared…”

Something triggers inside you. A somber feeling that makes you stiffen. He continues ravishing your neck and cheeks and earlobes but you don’t respond anymore, widened eyes staring forward at the wall behind him and when he seeks for your mouth again you pushed him back. Ignoring the frown on his face and without any word you pull away from his lap and turn your back on him.

He follows you shortly and gently places his hands on your shoulders, “What’s wrong, baby?”

You can hear the impending fear in his voice.   

You can’t do this.

“We can’t do this, Bucky.” You give voice to your mind and you can feel how he stiffens behind you so you turn to face him. You need him to understand. His stare is fixed on you, swollen lips from kissing parted… his eyes close for a moment as if trying to process what you just said after admitting you love him.

You breathe in the courage to say what you must, “Here I was thinking we were tracing a new path, that we were finally reaching that peace you always said you wanted but I know you couldn’t find it with me, and then…” You scoff, staring away for a moment,  “and then I get jealous and we fight… We haven’t fought for so long… We were at peace. I love you, I do.” You assure, pleading for him to understand, “I love you so much, sometimes is hard to even breathe when I look at you, but… but… We shouldn’t do this. We’re filled with imperfections. We can’t do this. What if we hurt each other… What if I hurt you again,” You can’t stand that thought, “I’m not… I’m not perfect.”

His stare is undecipherable as he keeps it fixed on you. You love him, you really do, but would you two be able to write a different story, one that won’t bring hurt and pain upon the both of you? Upon Summer? You know you have been doing good so far, but both of you admitted you’ve been holding back for the sake of your peace… what happens when you let all your feelings loose?

He takes in a deep sigh before tilting his head to the side and bringing a hand to slowly scratch his beard. When he looks back at you a small smile curls up his lips. 

You hold your breath.

“I’ve stayed away from you for two years and not a single moment I was at peace.” He says. With no rush, no desperation. What you hear into his soft voice is a quiet sense of realization. “I’ve been lying to myself… first I thought I could find peace and love elsewhere. Didn’t happen.” He chuckles. How can he be so calm? “Then I told myself that just staying next to you, without expressing how I really felt, what you really mean to me, would be enough, but tonight, fighting with you? Seeing how much you still love me? Kissing you…having your body close to mine once again…” You take in a shuddering breath as he speaks, no trouble, no sign of doubt on his speech, “I was never more at peace than tonight… You’re it, baby.” He licks his lips and shakes his head, “I don’t wanna lie to myself anymore. I don’t wanna lie to you. I know you’re not perfect, I don’t expect you to be. I’m not perfect either, I’m far from it. But I love you and you love me.” He pauses, waiting for you to deny him, but you don’t, how can you? “And love, my dear? Love isn’t perfect.”

When he finishes, with a teasing and comfort smirk on his face your heart beats loudly against your chest. You know you said that exact same thing to him…. That night on the rooftop. The very night your daughter was conceived… the last time you felt all of his love. At that time, it seemed like you truly believed that. But now? There’s too much to lose... too much to risk for an imperfect love… Right?

He steps closer to you and your body follows him, as you take one step closer to him, too, like you’re in a trance. But that’s when something catches your attention behind him, right past his shoulder and takes you out of your little daze. The baby monitor over the small table a few feet behind him. Your blood freezes in your veins. The image of a sleeping Summer is there, but…something…something is wrong.

“Bucky?”

He follows your transfixed gaze and looks over his shoulder. The way he holds his breath tells you he can see it, too. It’s small. Almost imperceptible, but it’s there. Her little arm moving to reach for her face and then it’s back on its original position… a few seconds… a small glitch…it happens again.  

Your heart flies to your throat and you don’t breathe or think again before you turn on your heels and bolt to your baby’s room, Bucky on your toes. You trip on furniture; you may have hurt your leg… you don’t know… you can’t feel. All you feel is Summer, Summer, Summer.

The scream rips out of your soul when you storm into her room and, through blurred vision, you find the crib. Like you so violently dreaded, the image on the baby monitor was a nothing but a recording,  

Summer. Your baby daughter… She’s gone. 

~~~

Chapter 24 coming soon.