#and when i knocked on their door to deliver their muffins they gave me a big container of candies

[yardsards]

note that i'm only halfway joking about the old people candy bit. this is some of what i had put out for the kids irl tonight

(hardly any kids come down this way and buying candy for the occasion is mostly a wasted effort so i've just started emptying my candy dish into the bucket lol)

[argylemikewheeler]

July 1st, 1985

what the first ep of (my) s3 would look like if the main concept was: both Steve and Will are gay in 1985’s Summer of Love and the town’s enemy is a little more human; loving friendships, very confused adults, and Will Byers Actually Getting Help

“Harrington!”

“Yes, sir.” Steve looked up from his desk. He dropped his crossword and looked to be at attention; the police station’s phone wasn’t ringing, though, so there wasn’t really anything he should have been doing. Hopper stepped out of his office, angling himself toward the door rather than Steve’s desk island.

“Do you think you’ll be able to-- Harrington, what are you doing?” Hopper caught sight of the pocket thesaurus sitting on his desk (the last name written on the inside cover not belonging to Steve, of course). Hopper fixed his sunglasses on the edge of his nose, looking over them and down at Steve.

“I’m just, uh, working on my vocabulary.” Steve said. Hopper blinked twice, waiting. Steve wasn’t going to say the truth: he was dating-- well seeing someone-- way smarter than him. This wasn’t for joy or boredom. He was studying to impress. “It’s college prep, sir.”

“The crossword?” The chief evened his stare. “This your old man’s suggestion?” Of all the things Steve’s father was telling him to do with himself, he  wished  some of it was simply pecking at a crossword over a twelve hour shift.  Fucking off  and  being a better piece of shit son  just wasn’t feasible to accomplish in one summer.

“He swears by it.”

“Okay, well. Uh, moving on from that,” Hopper grabbed his hat from the coat rack. The topic of Steve’s father always made Hopper stiffen up; it was definitely the main reason Hopper gave Steve his job at the station, but it still created more questions. Steve knew Hopper and his father went to high school together, but he never asked his father about those years-- beyond his baseball glory stories. “I’ve got plans tonight and I need to head out early. Can you handle things on your own for a while. At least until the night shift comes in?”

“I’ll be fine.” Steve made sure not to acknowledge the crossword on his desk as he nodded. He was really good at his job, he was. He was also just, unfortunately, still a pretty shitty boyfriend and needed all the vocab help he could get. “What’s the pressing story?”

“I have dinner.” Hopper was already trying to walk out the door. “So  don’t  call me. For the love of God.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Chief. I--” Steve was sure it was the cool July wind that slammed the door on the last half of his sentence. Not Hopper. “won’t... Have a good time, I guess.”

The police station was empty: it was another boring and wonderfully quiet Monday in Hawkins. There’d been some calls to break up disturbances at city hall in the past few days, but somehow everyone just seemed to agree that Mondays-- the longest shift of Steve's whole week-- was the day everyone went about their quietest day.

There were a few officers milling in and out of the back lounge and front door, casting a quick glance to Steve as he muttered and threatened fourteen down and six across. Nancy had been helping close the gaps of his post-high school education-- without knowing just what for-- but had been picking up most hours at the Post to try and elbow her way into their good graces; it put his tutoring on hold. So here he was, groaning at some clues about classical artists he’d never heard of.

There were other reasons Steve was sure the other officers thought he was odd-- things he was  sure  his father had passed along in spitting rants-- but Steve didn’t mind. No one said anything to his face.

“Hey Flo! Is, uh, is Steve here?” The question was asked with the answer already in mind.

Steve sat up in his chair, twisting around to see down the hall to the back entrance to the station. There weren’t many parking spots to fill, but he knew a certain someone who preferred it to street parking.

“Jonathan?”

“Oh, I hear him. Thanks-- hey!” Jonathan hurried out from the hall, his camera bumping against his stomach and bag slapping against his leg in the same rhythm. He’d gotten a new haircut recently: semi-wonky bangs and a closer cut in the back. All thanks to Steve’s peer pressure and Mrs. Byers’s kitchen shears.

“What are you doing here?”

“Sorry to stop by your work like this--” he lowered his voice as he stopped at the corner of Steve’s desk. “I know we said we wouldn’t do that, but we got an extra muffin in the lunch order and I know you’re always starving after a Monday shift so.” Jonathan produced a folded brown paper bag from his satchel. “Here.”

“Oh, thanks.” Steve wanted to say so much more, but had to settle. No more. None of what they’d decided they wouldn’t say. Not until the summer had ended. They wanted to see if they lasted longer than the convenience of loose summer schedules.

“Won’t I see you, uh, later, though?” At eight, when Steve got sent home he always drove straight to Jonathan’s. Jonathan started late on Tuesdays and Steve had off; they had the time to waste. “Or is this your way of telling me to stay home?”

“No! No we’re still... hanging out.” Jonathan had gotten really good at cooking and treated Steve to weekly dinner. It was a nice gesture at first, but Steve started growing fond of the company. They both did around mid-June. “But, I think Mike’s going to be over so. Be  cool , alright? Keep it cool.”

“Cool, got it.” Steve leaned back in his chair. He moved his papers to leave a corner of his desk for Jonathan to sit on. No one was in the main office; it was a harmless invitation.

“I have to get going...” It sounded like an excuse, a dive for safety. “And I’m sure you have, um,  puzzles  to do?” Jonathan pretended not to be endeared. He tried, he really did. He  failed , but Steve pretended he didn’t notice.

“Don’t want to sit and help me figure out the title of Mozart’s last opera?” He patted the desk, daring to be more direct.

“I really have to go.” Jonathan was genuine, looking at his watch. “The Post only let me out early today because I have to go pick up Will from his doctor’s appointment.”

“Wait.” Steve put the cap back on his pen. “Isn’t Will’s therapy on Wednesday?”

“Yeah, but with Mom’s schedule and the store being all weird-- we had to move it to today. And you know we typically have a family night after-- so he feels okay, you know-- but we  can’t  . So,  that’s why Mike’s coming over. Hopefully they’ll be idiots and tire Will out and he’ll sleep okay.” Tension rose in Jonathan’s voice quickly, explaining his day as if going over a laundry list; never rehearsing it but having it memorized.

“I can stay home if you need time, Jonathan.”

“No, really. I want you to come over.” Jonathan sighed and placed his hand on the emptied spot on Steve’s desk. “Besides, you can’t break tradition after a little over  one month , then it was just a weird habit.”

Steve Harrington did not consider his summer fling a w  eird habit . If anything, it was the most sensical thing he’d done in a very long time. Even after getting rejected from all his colleges, and never hearing the end of his father’s lectures, 1985 had been very kind to him. And that was mostly due to Jonathan’s inherent nature to be the same.

“I’ll see you after eight.” Steve smiled and reached for his hand-- but averted to grab a piece of memo paper by the phone.

“I’m sorry to leave in a rush.” Jonathan hitched his bag up, checking his watch again. “I just, I really need to get going.”

“Don’t worry. The muffin is  more  than enough.” Steve said. “And seeing you wasn’t too bad either.”

“Slow day, huh?” Jonathan said. The corner of his mouth quirked with a flattered, embarrassed smile. Steve tried to act nonchalant, like he wasn’t so goddamn relieved to see a familiar and happy face. Especially  his  familiar and happy face. “Well, good thing I have another surprise for you.”

“You can barely fit your camera in that bag, what could you possibly-- hey!” Steve missed grabbing Jonathan’s arm as he walked away, heading for the front door. “Where are you going?” Jonathan kept walking, checking his watch the whole way. “Hello?”

“Delivered right on time.” Jonathan pushed the front door open to the station-- but was nearly knocked over as a green  dash  barreled through it.

"Steve! Steve! Steve!” The dash was suddenly grabbing him by the shoulders. “You got the job!”

“Henderson! Oh my god! You’re back!” In an unlikely impulse, Steve grabbed Dustin in a hug, taking advantage of the change of height. “Holy shit, I nearly forgot! First of the month!”

“See you, Steve.” Jonathan walked across the room to the back entrance again. His hand braced the back of Steve’s chair, brushing across his shoulders.

“O-Okay! Yeah, see you!” Steve sputtered, losing his reminded  cool  in an instant. “Bye.”

Dustin pulled away slowly. “What was that?” It looked like  everyone  was too smart for Steve.

“Nothing. He brought me a surprise lunch-- which was an  obvious decoy to the main event! You! How are you, buddy? How was camp?”

“Oh, it was fantastic. Steve, I  have  to show you all my inventions! Camp was the  best  four weeks  of  my  life .” Dustin hopped up onto the corner of his desk. His heels tapped against the empty metal drawers. He was jittery, nearly uncontainable, but still so composed-- if only to be focused all on Steve.

Steve held his hands out, letting him start. “Lay it on me, Henderson! I want to hear everything. I missed you like crazy.”

“Well, first, obviously. I have to tell you about my girlfriend--”

“Whoa! Whoa!  Girlfriend  ? That fast?” Steve hadn’t been expecting any of his dating advice to work. It had been coming from such a poor and confused part of himself, Steve figured it was destined to fail. Apparently, it was just  Steve  that was-- when flirting with women at least. “Damn, there’s something in you after all!”

“She’s  super  smart, Steve. I’ve never met any girl like her. She’s a genius and she’s so pretty. God, I miss her already-- and I  just  saw her.”

Steve looked over his shoulder. He knew the feeling. “That’s great, man. I mean, I’m super happy for you. Like, that’s  crazy . That’s freaking awesome.”

“So what about you? How are the ladies? I mean, you work for the  Chief  now. All the ladies you could need and more, am I right?”

Steve used to be really good at this part of the lie, but with Dustin it felt cheap. He didn’t need to lie to him, but that was the deal; no matter how much that person was Steve’s best and most beloved friend, their secret was a dead-bolt, vaulted secret.

“Eh, not too great. Only girl my own age I see-- besides Nancy, really-- is the night-shift girl, Robin. But she’s not really-- we’re just friends. She’s alright. Leaves me weird drawings in the memo pad.”

“Ooo, she sounds cool.” Dustin raised his eyebrows. “Do you know her from school?”

“Yeah, we didn’t really run in the same crowds but-- it’s not like that, man. It’s really not.” Steve started unwrapping his lunch. “It’s so not like that with Robin.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m not...  looking  at the moment.”

Steve had originally decided to not go looking for trouble. After he and Nancy split in the beginning of his senior year, he didn’t start looking for an immediate replacement. The illusion of thinking he was in love with Nancy-- capable of being in love with Nancy-- was a hard thing to have come crumbling down. Steve needed time to get his own bearings, to put his feet firmly on the ground, and have them lifted off when his father grabbed him by the lapels and--

Steve hadn’t gone looking for trouble. Hadn’t gone looking for love either. But somehow, both seemed to find him.

Jonathan was late. He usually wasn’t but Will was trying not to be worried. It was a different day than usual and he knew how awful Jonathan’s boss and co-workers were. Will tried not to be worried-- he wasn't. It was just that he had spent an hour talking about the night his father left their family; standing outside the doctor’s office was a bit nerve-wracking. It felt too familiar, even with all the talking and note-scribbling.

Finally, Jonathan’s car pulled into the lot. He was speeding, as much as his car  could  speed: he knew he was late, which made Will feel a little bit better. No one had forgotten him. It was just traffic or his bosses or maybe just hitting all the red lights. As Jonathan stopped in front of the curb and waved Will in, Will could see he was jittery-- he was  upset  that he was late. Will felt bad for counting the minutes.

Not that he did it out of impatience or anything. Will just formed the habit after getting his new watch. It matched Mike’s. Completely on accident, of course.

“Hey, buddy! Sorry I’m late. I was-- I had to run an errand really fast. How long were you waiting.” He moved his bag and threw it onto the backseat. Will would’ve held it on his lap.

“I wasn’t keeping track.” Will said, climbing into the passenger seat. Will wanted to ask if his bag had Jonathan’s camera in it. If everything was okay. He didn’t. It seemed like Jonathan had been in his therapy with Will, just as shaken up. “It’s okay. Thanks for getting me.”

Jonathan waited until Will put on his seat belt. “Of course. We’re always here to pick you up. Therapy is important; you have to go.”

Will laughed before he could stop himself. “You sound like Mom.”  Why?

“Because she’s right.” Therapy was still kind of weird to Will-- since  no one else  in his grade had to do it-- but he humored his family. It was helping, if he had to admit it. But it was still embarrassing sometimes.

His therapist, Dr. Bright--  Rose Marie, as she insisted on being called-- was a send-out from the Lab, but disguised within a private practice just outside of town. She was able to listen to Will talk about what he saw and felt during his time with the Mind Flayer without trying to commit him. Almost nothing was off limits. Almost nothing.

Will checked his watch again.

“Are you excited to see Mike tonight?” The question was pointed, but Will wasn’t sure why it made him nervous. “I mean, I feel like I haven’t seen him in a bit.”

“Oh, yeah. He’s always with El.”

Will was sure they  weren’t  dating. El was just on a year-long stint of self-discovery and, besides Max, Mike was the person she trusted the most to help make as many helpful mistakes as possible. He bought her books to read and new music to try. It was really sweet, seeing Mike take such big strides toward helping their friend. But there was also a part of Will that felt dejected:  his  sort of help had to be prescribed and couldn’t be replaced with a warm laugh from one Mike Wheeler.

Will was sick while his friends were growing.

“Is there something wrong?” Jonathan used to ask the question like Will was one trembling lip away from crying-- but this time, he asked it like Will had his hand on the door, seconds from jumping out. “Will, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Will nodded. “I’m fine. Just-- I talked a lot today and I’m tired.”

“Do you want to cancel with Mike--”

“No.” Will had been looking forward to having time with Mike--  just  Mike-- for a whole week. He wanted to sit on his floor with his best friend and be a kid again. Just for the night-- maybe draw some of Mike’s old campaigns or sketch out an idea for his own. He just wanted to remember something good about the past four years. After his hour with Dr. Bright, it all felt painful. Like his childhood naivety had been broken and every conversation he overheard in his house dripped with venom and disdain.

Will didn’t like picturing his house that way. It was a place that loved and raised him, a place he felt safe. He didn’t like thinking the conversations he heard being screamed through the walls were trapped in the drywall.

His arms felt heavy and his chest felt like it was made of metal-- he kept tasting it in his mouth. Will leaned back against the seat and reached for the radio. Jonathan turned it down before Will had even changed the station.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I just want to see Mike.” Will said, his mouth too honest and his mind shrouded in guilt. “I just want to see my friend.”

“Okay. Okay.” Jonathan nodded somewhat somberly. “I understand. Let’s go pick him up. He’s at his house right? Not El’s-- o-or The Sinclair’s or anything?”

“No. He’s at his.” Will crossed his arms and tried to find the loose string-- the thing that could uncoil Jonathan’s still-tightening anxiety. “Are you still dating Nancy?”

Jonathan turned to look at Will, nearly crashing the car. That was the wrong string. “What?”

“Nancy? Are you still dating her?”

“I was never dating Nancy.” Jonathan laughed, shaking his head. “I’m not dating Mike’s sister, don’t worry.” The clarification was strange and felt off-topic. Like Jonathan was trying to talk about something else.

“I thought you were. You guys hung out a lot during school.” Will heard her voice through the walls too. Always gentle, never yelling. Except when she was losing at playing cards. Then she shouted.

“She was helping me pass chemistry. That’s all.” Jonathan turned the radio up a little. Will checked his watch. “And then she helped me apply to the Post internship-- she’s great at writing papers, did you know that? A real wordsmith. Is Mike a writer too?”

He was, he  really  was. Grammatically, Will ran out of red pens trying to help, but creatively? Will envied Mike’s ability. “I don’t know. We don’t really talk about that kind of stuff like you two do… Since you two are dating.”

“We’re  not .” Jonathan laughed. Will took advantage of an upcoming stop sign to lean forward and look at his brother’s crimson face. “We’re not, Will, okay? We’re really not. I’d tell you.”

“You’d tell me?”

“Of course! I’d tell you if I… I had a girlfriend. Which I don’t!” He stayed at the stop sign for a bit too long. “Do you?”

There was an option to play dumb, to make Jonathan ask more directly:  do you have a girlfriend, Will ? but it sounded far more painful than being honest, than being as lonely as he was.

“No. I don’t.”

“And you’d tell me. If you were dating someone?” Jonathan looked at Will, hopeful but scarcely so. “You’ll tell me if anything big happens in your life?”

“Yeah.” There wouldn’t be anything happening at all that summer, that was for  damn sure . “Absolutely.”

Steve had about seventy percent of his puzzle done-- fifty of which was because Dustin was an unstoppable genius with no tolerance for Steve’s careful pace. It was just about quarter past seven, and Steve’s back was getting sore from sitting in his chair all day. He only liked sitting when it was in his car, on his way to the Byers's House, careful, of course, to obey all traffic laws.

Steve was packing his crosswords and pens up in the top drawer of his desk when something clattered the back door open. Steve grabbed a pen and whipped around in his seat, as if to wield it like a weapon.

“Hello? Who’s there?”

“Hey dingus.” Luckily, Steve couldn’t even see Robin yet-- or rather, she couldn’t see him or his emphasized eye roll. She could hear him groan though. “Hey, shut up and quit whining. I’m sending you home early.”

Her head popped out from the hallway. Robin’s ponytail was high on her head, the hair flopping over and getting caught in her stringy bangs. She flung her backpack out from behind her and tossed it toward Steve. She wasn’t in her uniform yet, only wearing the buttoned up shirt-- unbuttoned and showing her torn and dyed shirt underneath. She was wearing jogging shorts, her knees torn up and covered with Band-Aids. They reminded Steve of the ones taped to his face after getting a plate smashed into his forehead. Deceivingly cheerful.

“What are you doing here early?” Steve stood and followed her, holding her backpack awkwardly in his hands. “You’re  never  early.” Eight on the dot. Every time.

“I figure you want to get out of here tonight.” She didn’t even stop to look at Steve as they walked into the back room. “Probably want to see your boyfriend.”

Her words weren’t sharp, but Steve still recoiled. He let his arms, and her bag, hang by his sides.

“Who? Jonathan?” The only way Jonathan and Robin had ever met was in the hallways of Hawkins High. She definitely never saw them interact at the station-- or on any of their nights together: they were always indoors. “He’s  not my boyfriend.”

“First off, I didn't even say a name." Shit. "Second, he came in the other day looking for you.” Robin started buttoning her shirt up, fixing the collar as she finally turned to see Steve. “He was really upset-- didn’t even know what time it was to know you weren’t working.”

“Upset?” Technically, it wasn’t Steve’s problem. It was the deal; they didn’t  have  to care about each other’s lives. It was just summer. It was just like any other summer.

“Yeah. Crying, sniffling, snot-- the whole nine, man.” Robin sounded extremely sympathetic despite beginning to change her pants. Steve whipped around, covering his face. “You should go see him. Make sure he’s okay. Be a good boyfriend... shithead.”

“He’s  not--”

“Steve, I’m the last person you should be arguing with.” Robin laughed-- and it was only momentarily threatening. Until, of course, Steve realized what she meant.

Like all good secrets kept at Hawkins PD, Steve kept his mouth shut and nodded even if she wasn’t looking.

“Yes, sir--ma'am-- Robin.”

“So, are you going to go or what, dingus?” She tapped him on the shoulder. “Get out of here-- and tell me all about it Wednesday.”

Steve blinked at her, holding out her bag. As if it was enough thanks to give her back her own property. “Are we… friends, or something?”

“No, of course not.” She winked, slapping his arm. “Just looking out for one of my own.”

After picking Mike up from his house, they drove home in uncharacteristic chatter. Jonathan was the only one speaking, humming along to the radio. Will was exhausted beyond performative small talk; the type that had to be done between two best friends when a third party was present. Mike was great at just sitting with Will in silence, but Jonathan didn’t know that. Instead, the three of them passed around quiet jokes and laughter, answering questions about their friends for Jonathan’s upkeep of information.

Once they got in the house, Jonathan let them wander off into Will’s room as he started pulling pots out of the kitchen cabinets. He wouldn’t bother or pester them about any summer work, either. They would be left alone in their own coupled silence.

Mike was sitting cross-legged on Will’s floor, twisting one of Will's crayons between his fingers. Will needed new ones but he felt funny asking for them as a near-freshman in high school. He liked the glide of wax on paper compared to the scrape of colored pencils. Well, that and the fact he ruined half of his crayons the year prior making a full map of Hawkins in a fugue state and only had two crayons able to be used normally.

“You had doctor stuff today, right?”

Will was digging under his bed for his emptier sketch book. “Yeah. Therapy.  Doctor  doctor stuff was two weeks ago.”

“How was it?” Mike let his hand still and rest in his lap. “Like, what do you do in therapy? Just start talking?”

“Yeah, but it’s more than that. You have to think about stuff too. Doctors ask you questions, sometimes.” Will pulled back and drug his old drawing supplies along the carpet. He sat back on his heels and was able to see Mike over the top of the bed. He didn’t know Will was looking. “You have to have answers.”

“What do they ask about?” Mike kept looking at his hands, unaware of Will. “Upside down stuff?”

“Sometimes.” Will shuffled back around to Mike's side of the bed. He could feel the tiniest bit of rug burn starting. “She asked me about my dad today.”

Mike looked up, almost immediately. “Can she do that?”

“Why can’t she?” Will popped the lid on the retired Tupperware, now his art bin. “I talked about it.”

“I thought you didn’t like to.” Will had never said those words which meant Mike had gathered it from just observing him. “Did you… like talking about it?”

“Not really.” Will laughed. He found a few extra crayons, but of all the wrong colors. “She had this big speech afterward about learned helplessness that I… really didn’t like.” Will tried to keep laughing.

Mike put the crayon back in the bin. “Are you okay, Will?”

“Yeah. It’s just… the same old stuff.” Will shrugged. “Sometimes it just bothers me more than other days.”

Mike bit the inside of his cheek, picking at his words carefully. “You never talk about your dad, Will.”

“Why would I?”

“Because it bothers you. You can talk about anything you want-- I… I would listen.”

“You don’t have to listen to it just because it happened to me, you know. My therapist says you don’t have to experience things with me for them to be real.”

“But I want to know.” Mike looked insulted, almost crushed and collapsed as he sat back on his hands. “That’s your dad,” he said. “And you’re my friend.”

They sat in silence for a while. Mike went back to studying a new crayon, picking at the wrapper. Will felt something forming in his throat. A bubble that was hot, thick and sticky. Not vomit, but not impending tears either.

“I don’t get why he left.” Will said. “I don’t know what happened to our family.”

“Nothing happened. Maybe he just… wasn’t good at being your dad anymore.”

“But then why? What did I do?” Will didn’t want to ask Mike, make him feel responsible for answering, but Will was desperate to ask the universe again.

“Nothing.” Mike said. “I just think he…”

“He what? My dad got tired of me? Didn’t want to raise me?”

“Maybe he actually learned how to take a hint and knew he wasn’t good enough for you and Jonathan-- or your mom.” Mike wanted to be hopeful, to be positive, so badly. He ached, his smile tight and weak. He didn't have the answers, and who was Will to put him in the position to come up with them.

“So he gave up.” Will said.

“That’s not what I meant--”

“I know. I know… That’s just how it feels.” Will shrugged. He smiled at Mike, accepting his help and his warmth. It hurt knowing that Mike was wrong, but still. Will could always pretend a little longer. Anything for Mike.

“Hey! You monsters hungry?” Steve clapped his hands together before gently tapping the door. “Jonathan’s got dinner on the table.”

The door was open. Steve didn’t have to knock. He wanted to, just to prove he wasn’t  too  comfortable, but he also knew Mike was over. And knocking would announce his entrance rather than letting it just be something that just  was  . Rather than being  cool .

Awkwardly and with a lot of weird, throat-clearing fanfare, Steve opened the Byers’s front door and poked his head inside. Jonathan called him in from the kitchen without even needing to say hello, or being surprised by his walking in:  In here, Steve! Dinner’s almost done .

Steve walked through the living room carefully, as if he’d disturb it. There was a tape playing softly-- some band Steve’s never heard of, but didn’t hate. He’d grown to like the way that every song played in the Byers house was always moody and melancholy. The music was always the opposite of how he felt stepping into the kitchen.

Jonathan was at the stove, stirring a pot of something that smelled delicious. He had what looked to be tomato sauce stains on the front of his shirt-- where he wrapped his hand up to open the sauce jar. Steve was able to hide his smile as he shouldered off his uniform jacket and toed off his shoes, claiming a chair at the kitchen table.

“How was work?” Jonathan didn’t stop stirring. He moved like the stove was turned all the way up and he was afraid of burning the food. He spoke that way too.

“It was fine. Not a whole lot.” Steve didn’t want to have anything seem bigger than whatever upset Jonathan-- and seemed to still be upsetting him now. “How was your day?”

“Fine. Will and Mike are in the other room.” He was checking things off his list. Steve stepped up to Jonathan and stood even with him at the stove. He was making one-pot pasta. It really did smell fantastic. Steve was so hungry, even after his lunch.

“How was… the other things in your day? Develop any good pictures?” Steve covered how stupid he sounded by placing his hand on Jonathan’s lower back.

Jonathan stopped stirring and looked at him. Steve tried to keep cool, tried not to show his motives-- his attempt to calm something he couldn’t believe he’d missed spinning out of control, even if he didn’t know what it was. “Nancy walked into the dark room today-- she’s actually the one who gave me the muffin-- and she exposed the photos to light too early. So no, actually.”

Steve really was a bad boyfriend. Even when he wasn’t one yet-- or at all.

“Okay… how was. Everything else?”

“You don’t have to ask about my day, Steve. It’s okay.” Jonathan sighed and spoke evenly. “I’m just a little tired. Really. We don’t have to do the whole…  thing .”

The whole thing where Steve was explicit about how much he really cared about Jonathan and admitted he was sincerely and terrifyingly in love with Jonathan.

“I was asking because I was curious. Not out of obligation.” Steve clarified. His hand slid to rest on Jonathan’s hip. He moved closer, lips aiming to place a commitment-less kiss on his cheek.

“Steve! I said to keep it  cool .” Jonathan ducked back, placing a hand on Steve’s chest. “I don’t want Will to see us.”

“Your brother?” Steve was surprised; of all people Jonathan explicitly wanted to hide from Will seemed kind and forgiving-- not that there was anything  to  forgive, but it was something Steve often checked for. Steve was sure that one of Dustin’s friends would be… like Steve. Or like Jonathan-- maybe. All of them seemed prepared to deal with any of their friends suddenly being different. Far more prepared than Steve ever was.

“Yes. My brother.” Jonathan snapped, banging the spoon against the edge of the pot. “I don’t want him to learn I’m not dating Nancy but  instead  seeing her ex-boyfriend in the same day.” he whispered.

“Wait, what? He thinks you’re with Nancy?” Steve wasn’t sure where they went wrong. They were trying to  obscure  the truth, not lead everyone to a different reality. “D-Do you think Mike does too?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t want to ask and seem weird.” Jonathan sighed again. He sounded tense again. “I told Will I’d tell him if I was seeing anyone… And he promised me the same.”

Steve knew not to press the obvious question-- well   are  you seeing someone, Jonathan?  -- but also didn’t want to touch the obvious implication that Will  needed  to share a secret with Jonathan. Instead, he placed his hands into his pockets and turned to lean against the counter.

“Dinner smells really good, Byers.” There was another name that began with “B” that Steve wasn’t allowed to use, but always wanted to. Byers Byers Byers. Baby baby baby. “Thank you, again, for cooking for me-- for us.”

“You think I’m going to let you starve?” His stirring slowed; the stove cooled down. He nudged Steve’s arm with the spoon. “You coming home late and trying to cook? You mean half-drinking a beer and falling asleep face down on your bed in your uniform, half unbuttoned.”

“You picture that often, Byers?” Steve lifted an eyebrow. “Hm?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Jonathan’s lips quirked into a smile again. “But, if you’d like a beer, I think there’s one in the fridge. No one in the house is going to touch it.”

“I can go ask Will if he wants it.”

“Shut up-- do you want it or not?”

“No.” Steve didn’t like drinking when they were together. He’d never really heard the full story about where Mr. Byers went, but he had a father of his own to make those blank spaces fill pretty fast. “But thanks. Don’t want the habit of needing a beer to forget how boring my job is.”

“I thought you liked your job?” Jonathan took a piece of pasta out of the pot and held it out for Steve to test.

He chewed and answered. “I do! It’s nice to have normal hours-- and I’m happy to help have replacements as Flo gets ready to retire but… I don’t know. Sometimes it feels  boring .”

“Would you rather be chasing down a four-legged monster without a face?” Jonathan let out a bubble of genuine laughter, playfully glaring at Steve.

“Frankly, yes! At least we’d all have something to do. I feel like I don’t see everyone anymore.”

“Then throw a party. Don’t wish for anything bad to happen.” Jonathan said firmly. “Let the record show my brother is a very strange magnet for all this… weird shit.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Steve said solemnly. He put his hand on Jonathan’s forearm. “I wish we were all safely doing something exciting. It felt nice to be needed, even if no one knew it was us.”

Jonathan put the spoon down on the counter and pivoted to be looking only at Steve. There was something resting just on the tip of his tongue, just under the surface of their conversation. It would’ve been a digression-- Steve could tell by Jonathan’s tense and furrowed brow-- but he would’ve listened.

“Jonathan?” Steve squeezed his arm, lifting his eyebrows. “What is it?”

“I--” He clenched his jaw, trying to swallow his words. “I think--” Steve knew there was no end to Jonathan’s sentence; merely starting it meant there was trust between them. A careful admission through omission. Steve knew Jonathan was looking at his shoes and wouldn’t be seen as he took in the secret flinches of Jonathan’s face. The crinkle by his left eye, the twitch of his mouth, double blinking--

They both jumped apart as the phone started ringing, practically shaking on the wall. Jonathan stepped away from Steve and left everything unsaid. Again.

Jonathan tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder as he turned to lean against the wall.

“Hello? This is--” His face changed sharply, his eyebrows furrowing. “I told you to stop bothering us. You’re lucky she’s not here to pick up the phone-- I don’t  care !” Jonathan cleared his throat and looked at Steve in a flash of uncertainty and anxiety. “I have the police here right now and if you don’t stop calling me I will send them to your house-- it’s not a threat if you’re the one bothering us. Stop. Calling.” He slammed the phone down and braced his weight against the wall with his other hand.

“Am I considered ‘the police’ now?” Steve said lightly. It was his way of letting Jonathan know he was listening, but not asking direct questions. “I’m not even allowed to have a badge.”

“It counts.” Jonathan said, letting his arms fall down by his sides. Steve stepped over and kept stirring dinner.

“Who was that?”

“No one. Can you go get the boys in the other room? Dinner’s ready.” Jonathan pushed Steve aside to hunch over the stove again.

“Sure.” Steve nodded, knowing he wasn’t seen. “Hey! You monsters hungry? Jonathan’s got dinner on the table.”

Dinner felt weird.

Will couldn’t help but feel like he and Mike had gotten into a fight. Talking about his dad made anything feel sticky, feel like it was violent or volatile. A second from snapping or tearing off, bouncing around the walls and echoing in Will's body. A small conversation between friends-- actually a little  understanding  between  best  friends-- felt like it had been a screaming match, all because it was cut off. There was no apology from Will. He didn't have the chance to tie it all up with an  I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, forget I said anything.

His plea sat heavy on his tongue as he talked to Steve-- who had arrived without notice-- and let Mike make him laugh so hard he nearly shot water out his nose. Will let it all happen under the tremor, the ache, of an apology. And maybe, if he was the best brother and friend he should’ve been, no problems or therapy, it would be enough of an apology.

He wasn't hungry and only ate half his serving of pasta, even though it was usually his favorite of Jonathan's recipes. He did apologize for that though, and it felt right to say aloud. Even if it was misdirected and no one heard it.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm so so sorry. Please come back--

Mike wasn’t tired, Will knew, but he still wanted to go to bed right after their horror movie ended. It was clear Mike hadn't been paying attention to the movie; the entire plot was that dreams were a new horror-scape for monsters to get teenagers. It wasn't too scary to Will; it just felt familiar. The villain looked different, more human, but Will knew what it felt like to dream while wide awake. To watch and be unable to do anything but scratch at the surface--

Convincing Will to get ready for bed, Mike said they’d have all day in the morning. He said that maybe he could convince his mom to let him stay over again if they don’t get all their fun in. Will knew Mike's mom probably would, if only because she felt bad for Will. But he would take the pity. A sleepover wasn't the worst thing to get from pity.

Will could still hear Mike fidgeting in his sleeping bag. He was rubbing his feet together like a cricket and twisting his wristwatch. The plastic scratched the sheer material of his sleeping bag rhythmically: back and forth. back and forth. backandforthbackandforth. It was like Mike was counting the ticks of his silent digital watch. Will began to play with his own watch, keeping it on in bed only because he'd noticed Mike hadn't removed it when they were brushing their teeth that night; apparently the watch was too good to part with.

Time though, was something Will wished he could separate himself from. He could hear the seconds scraping by now. Every moment he kept his friend awake and bored because Will was too weak or (rather and) too  everything  to stay up late again.

Therapy hadn’t even been that bad. Not really. Maybe it could be exhausting but it didn’t count because Will sat in the same spot for an hour. It wasn’t real work. It shouldn’t have counted. Will should’ve been able to hang out with his friend until sunrise, getting in trouble with his mom for being up so late. He should’ve still been a stupid, carefree kid, not a by-gone troubled teenager.

Maybe his dad had seen that from the beginning. Will's dad was always gambling, betting on baseball games he had these incredible "feelings" on. Sometimes he was wrong, but when he was right it was an amazing prediction; having the foresight no one else had. And maybe that was what it was, leaving them when he did. Maybe he saw Will wouldn’t be the second son he wanted after all. Maybe he knew of all the damage that would be done to him, the damage he would cause. Probably saw it from miles-- years-- away. And he left without a single warning to any of it.

What if his father had known? Could've known where he was when he came back into town two years ago? Not gone forever just in the lights. Just out of reach, just through the wall, Dad. What if he had known, been able to see, able to know, but wanted to leave Will Down there being possessed and enveloped and consumed and--

Will felt a chill scurry down his back. The feeling almost had legs. Too many. He felt ice cold, his body going blank-- not numb, but  blank -- for a second. He couldn’t feel his fingers, but could still feel every inch of his body, suddenly pulsing and seizing.

"Will?" Mike asked, sitting up. He gripped the end of the bed and pulled his face closer to Will's. He squinted in the darkness, feeling for Will’s hand. Will couldn’t answer, his jaw tense and breath rattling out of him. "Will, what’s wrong?"

After a (thankfully) non-awkward dinner, Steve and Jonathan washed all the dishes and let the boys watch whatever movie they wanted. Steve didn’t pay attention to what tape he put in the VRC. He was too busy thinking about the hands hidden in the warm soapy water in the kitchen sink. Neither Mike nor Will seemed too bothered by the  disgusting  amount of blood or the scary blade man on the TV. He felt no regret letting them go to bed right after the credits rolled. Jonathan had looked exhausted after putting the last dish away, and dozed off during the climax of the movie-- even slept through the high-pitched screaming.

They waited for the sound of Will’s door closing over before they got into bed.

Jonathan flopped onto his back, a pillow resting between his chest and crossed arms. Steve laid on his side, bracing his weight on his elbow. He poked at Jonathan's furrowed eyebrow lightly.

"What's the problem, Byers?"

"Nothing."

"You are not a really great liar, you do know that right?" That and Steve could still hear Robin's blasé recounting of Jonathan's distress.  Yeah. Crying, sniffling, snot-- the whole nine, man.

Jonathan sighed and turned to look at Steve. He hated being called out. "It's about Will."

"What's wrong with Will? He seemed alright at dinner."

"Yeah, but," Another sigh. "Steve, I think my brother’s gay."

Steve's first response was swallowed and he nodded. "Okay. Okay. And, um, what's the issue with that?" He adjusted himself on the bed, hoping there was more subtlety in that.

"I can't talk to him about it. I mean," Jonathan smiled and reached to touch his face. "This is a very different thing than being fourteen and confused."

"Who says he's confused?"

"I don't mean with himself-- the rest of the world is so confusing, Steve. You see the news... I can't talk to him. I didn't grow up like that. And being with you is... Different. We dated girls before. Will... I don't know. I think he knows already."

"You think he's got feelings for--"

"Oh absolutely." Jonathan nodded, closing his eyes. "Oh, I'm so glad it's not just me who sees it."

"Hopefully Wheeler does too."

"Hey, keep your voice down, he's only a few rooms over ."

"Sorry. Sorry. Me and my big mouth " Steve rested his head on Jonathan's shoulder. "Shut me up, maybe."

"Not until my mom gets back." Jonathan said, rolling up onto his side too. "If I catch her when she comes in the door, she won't come into my room to say good night. I can't have you distracting me until then."

"Your mom is on a date. She's an adult and so are you." Steve kissed Jonathan's shoulder. "You are a working man who just finished a long day at work-- I think you can cuddle up with your boyf--" Steve choked on his own stupidity, feeling his face go red and charisma die on impact. "With me."

"I will. Once my mom is back." Jonathan kissed Steve, as if a parting promise. Only to backtrack on his words immediately. He tucked Steve’s hair back behind his ear, his hands trying not to hold his face. “No--  no . Steve, not until my mom gets back.”

“I can keep an ear out--” As Steve spoke, the power in his bedside lamp dimmed. The power hummed quietly before flickering back up. Jonathan tensed and pushed himself up in bed.

“Did you see that?”

“Yeah, it was just the light, Byers. It’s windy out tonight, maybe a tree brushed a powerline.” Steve pushed Jonathan back down to his pillow-- and back into his own skin again. “It’s  nothing  . What if I turn out the light? Your mom won’t even  see  us in here.”

“No. No, I have to wait for her.”

“What if she doesn’t come back?”

“What!” Jonathan jerked upright again.

“I  meant  what if she’s at Hopper’s or something?” Steve shrugged. “She’s an adult.”

“Steve, that’s my  mom .” Jonathan hissed, swatting at the hand resting on his shoulder.

“I  meant  because she drove there on her own. If she had some wine, maybe she stayed somewhere and is being a smart, responsible parent.” Steve soothed. “Something you don’t have to be right now. You’re not Will’s parent and you aren’t your own. Lay down, will you?”

Jonathan was reluctant, but let Steve ease him back down again. He pulled the pillow tighter to his chest and sighed, his crossed arms sinking deeper. Steve laid down beside him, nose gently touching the end of his shoulder. As he breathed, his short exhales tickled Jonathan’s skin and got him giggling. It was Steve’s secret trick; something that always worked because Jonathan didn’t know it was a pattern-- didn’t know he was ticklish.

“Sorry I was weird today.” Jonathan said suddenly. He wasn’t even grinning.

“What?” They didn’t apologize. There was no need. “You’re worried about stuff-- it’s okay.”

“No, I like our dinners. And I was so uptight. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” Steve didn’t know what to do with the sentiment. “Apology accepted?”

Jonathan sighed again, blowing it out slowly between his pressed lips. “Lonnie called today.”

“L- your  dad ? Is that who was on the phone?” Steve wasn’t sure what came over him-- or his body-- as he placed an arm over Jonathan’s waist and pulled them together. There was something unspokenly intimate talking about abusive fathers while being nearly sutured together in bed, but Steve pretended he was just having problems hearing Jonathan correctly.

“Yeah.” Jonathan turned, his nose brushing Steve’s. “Said he wants custody of Will. He doesn’t trust Mom, he said.”

“How is he-- He can’t do that.”

“He’s going to try. I don't know where it came from. He still thinks he can win a case because the news says Will just  disappeared into the woods . Like he ran away from us or something.”

“Everyone knows that’s not true.”

“A court might not.” Jonathan sighed, ducking his head down. Steve resisted lifting his chin to hook it over Jonathan’s head, nestling him into his neck. He laid still, listening to his breathing and the gentle creaking of the house--

Jonathan's door was thrown open, both men sitting up quickly, ready to defend themselves and their actions. It was Mike, in his pajamas with his hair sticking out in wild curls. Will stood just behind him in the hallway looking far more awake. Stilted and untousled.

"Mike?"

"Jonathan, quick!"

"What is it?" Jonathan swung his legs around and motioned both boys to come in. "Will?" Mike pushed him into the center of the door frame, although he remained in the hallway, in the light. Will’s hand grabbed at the back of his neck. His face was blank and his eyes were distant.

"Something's wrong." Will said slowly, blinking to focus. "I feel him."

"Feel who?" Jonathan kneeled in front of Will, holding his shoulders. "Feel who, Will?"

"Dad."

[darkpurpledawn]

So content warning for seemingly-dire-but-mostly-nonsensical medical situation in the aftermath of an accident and mild body horror played for laughs in this ficlet.

For @racketghost 's 13 Days of Halloween and prompt "bones"

“I almost hate to do it, that radiologist is positively glowing. And the residents are fascinated by your labwork.”

Crowley attempted to glower at Aziraphale through a tangle of tubes that were trying to assess his blood oxygenation, measure his pulse, and deliver saline solution, but were mostly just prompting their associated machines to beep in abject terror.

“You could be making a better attempt, I must say,” Aziraphale went on. He sounded ferociously, unnervingly calm as he picked at a disappointing muffin from the cafeteria. “I reckon I’ll have to wipe the memories of half the A&E at this point.” His voice had that particular tranquility which precedes major volcanic eruptions.

“Sorry I couldn’t look normal for the technicians, I was a bit preoccupied with my, what was it”--Crowley lifted a piece of carbon paper off the blanket with his unshattered hand and read--“extensive and irreversible blunt force trauma injuries and systemic organ failure. It was an accident, you know.”

“You hit three pedestrians.”

“I healed three pedestrians while I was bleeding out on Balfour Mews, angel!”

“Yes, I know, they’ve been telling the Daily Mirror they were chased by a swarming nest of vipers.”

“Look, demonic healing has some trade-offs, OK? Sometimes it makes sensible people give interviews with the Daily Mirror. Why are you so angry with me, I’ve never been more sympathetic in my life.” Crowley stuck out his bottom lip and indicated his numerous monitoring devices and broken limbs.

Aziraphale gave a quiet huff and looked back at the magazine whose crossword he had completed thrice in increasingly obscure languages. Despite the fact that he had at no point been thrown through a windshield that day, he seemed to be in a far greater state of shock.

Crowley appeared to lose his nerve at Aziraphale’s silence, and addressed his next inquiry to the muffin crumbs. 

“Is the Bentley, er, doing alright?”

“Well that’s the trouble,” Aziraphale said, angry at once. “The sodding Bentley didn’t crumple at all, didn’t even dent! After you were--forcibly ejected, it drove itself off to the Cartoon Cinema without so much as a by-your-leave.”

Crowley let out a relieved sigh that almost displaced his nasal cannula.

“One would think,” Aziraphale continued, crushing the muffin in clenched fingers, “that you were more concerned with keeping your car looking nice than not getting yourself discorporated, even now. I don’t trust that Hell would ever let you out again if--if it came to that.”

The heart monitor flatlined and began wheedling for supervisory attention. Crowley opened his mouth, then closed it, then after poking at the juncture of IV and arm he said “Angel, look, I didn’t--”

There was a knock on the open door frame.

“Mr. Crowley, is this a good time?” a short man in a long lab coat asked.

“Actually we’re rather occupied,” Aziraphale started, but Crowley cut in.

“Yeah. S’fine.”

The doctor paced up and down for a moment, looked at the flatlining heart monitor and the flickering oximeter, and swallowed heavily. “Ah, I don’t really know how to say this or where to begin. Quite frankly, Mr. Crowley, you are the luckiest man who has ever been admitted to this institution, and not a single person on our staff has the faintest idea how you are still awake and speaking.”

“Er, prognosis good, then?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale snorted without mirth, then covered the awkward moment by getting up to throw the crushed muffin in a rubbish receptacle labeled BIOHAZARD.

“Mr. Crowley, I don’t want to alarm you, but these are your x-rays.” He handed Crowley a bluish film.

Crowley stared at them for a moment. 

“So this is...bad?”

The doctor blinked once, and switched into a tone of voice like the one Aziraphale used for small children and Crowley used for especially recalcitrant rhododendrons.

“Sir, your entire skeletal structure amounts to your skull, a spine, and some supernumerary vertebrae. Your arms and legs appear to be made of cartilage developed subsequent to the rest of your bones. Your liver is nonfunctional and is covered in scar tissue that one of the ICU nurses noted appears to spell ‘PLEASE STOP’ in Latin. According to medical science and our leading bioethicists, not only are you already dead, it is completely unclear how you were ever alive.”

Crowley flashed an uneasy smile. “Miraculous, eh?”

“Mr. Crowley, you have the internal organs of a ball python and the pulmonary damage of a five hundred year old smoker.”

I quit in the nineties, Crowley mouthed at Aziraphale, who hid his head in his hands.

“Furthermore,” the doctor said, “Your body temperature was at 11 C before you underwent extensive blood rewarming, during which it was discovered your blood has the physical properties of tar bitumen and the pH of battery acid.”

Crowley twisted his several blankets. “It, er, runs in the family.”

“Mr. Crowley, I have never been so completely at a loss for diagnosis. A year’s worth of Lancet articles could be published on your congenital ocular condition alone. Your heartbeat has been undetectable for seven of the last eight hours, and yet you entered the trauma ward slurring to the paramedics about a recent purchase of beachfront property.”

Aziraphale’s head snapped up. 

“I’m afraid we’re really rather occupied,” he said, and drew his hand down with a brusque finality. There was a bright glow of light that made Crowley wince.

“Of course, Mr. Fell,” the doctor said in an altered voice. “I’ll have the discharge papers brought up presently.” He left the room, after glancing at the heart monitor and writing down a number it did not display.

“So, ah. Beachfront property.” Aziraphale bit his bottom lip.

“Erm, yeah. I, well, I might have driven off the road a bit when I saw the message from the real estate human. Angel, I, ah, I sort of bought us a house. I’d like a--gosh why is it so hard to talk? must be all the morphine--a future. If you want to erm, live in it with me.”

Aziraphale’s eyes were overflowing with tears, so it was perhaps understandable that he collided with Crowley’s bandaged face a little too hard when he bent to kiss him.

“My dear,” he said as his throat made a noise like a dolphin hiccupping, “may I kindly suggest that if you want a future so badly you put some airbags in your bloody car?”

Crowley flinched at the word ‘airbags’ like he flinched at ‘Pater noster qui es in caelis.’

“Fine, angel, fine. But if I do, I get veto power over all tartan slipcovers, seasonal wreaths, and chintzy fireplace knicknacks at that seaside cottage. In perpetuity.”

Aziraphale grasped Crowley’s less-injured hand, squeezed tight, and began to daydream about inflicting quaint garden statues upon the years to come.

[pedrosbish]

moon song

word count: 1.2k

warnings: angst, unrequited feelings 

A/N: I’m currently watching the mentalist but haven't gotten to this poor man yet 

Marcus Pike deserved so much more than she could ever give him. 

It hurt to see the way he looked at her, the love he had for her painted clear on his face and in his eyes as he daydreamed of their life together in the future. A future that you were sure did not involve you, maybe lucky enough to be a friend that was only asked about work or how their weekend had been. 

Marcus had been there to welcome you to the Federal Bureau of Investigation on your first day, showing you to your desk which had been placed in front of his. A basket of muffins had been placed on top and when you had looked up at your new partner, his cheeks a tinted pink as he looked away from you when you had thanked him. 

The two of you got along well. There had been some differences like his strange fascination with old movies which he made you watch on a small television in the break room. 

On a particularly rough day, you had entered the office only to be met with the smell of burning popcorn. When you had followed the smell to the source, you laughed at the sight of Marcus trying to save the burning packet as the title of one of your favourite movies played on the small TV. The embarrassed smile he gave you made your heart leap within your chest. 

That was when you had started falling for him. 

It was slow at first but with every stolen glance, every unnecessary but welcomed touch, every hour spent together after the work day had sent you catapulting over the edge and you weren't afraid to say that you may be in love with the man. 

So one night when he had offered to have a drink at his place after work, you had jumped at the opportunity, ready to spill your heart out to the man with the help of some beer in your system. It had been a couple of drinks later and a forgotten movie on the television when he had leaned across the space between you to place his lips on yours. 

And in that moment, just for a second, you thought that he may actually like you back.

Of course, that was when the two of you had been assigned to work with the California Bureau of Investigation and their team. They were nice enough to you, apart from Patrick Jane who couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut as Agent Van Pelt tried to deliver the information to you all. You had turned your head, ready to say something to Marcus but had stopped immediately when you noticed his eyes focussed on Teresa Lisbon.

It had been easy to ignore at first, the two of them talking to each other in the corners of rooms as you and the other agents looked over evidence. It had been easy to ignore the way he stared after her as she walked out the room with Jane following close behind her. It had been easy to ignore when he asked her out the first time, then the second, then the third. 

Weeks had passed, each day starting with Marcus coming into the office with a wide smile on his face that usually would have stirred the butterflies in your stomach but with every smile at his phone as he read the messages from her caused those butterflies to drop dead. 

Soon, those stolen glances were turned to the screen of his phone, those touches became unusual, those late nights after work turned into watching him slip on his jacket as he smiled, saying a quick goodbye before leaving to be with Teresa. It fucking hurt to have him not want you the same way you wanted him. But at least he was happy with her. 

Until he wasn't. 

It had been late, the moon high in the sky surrounded by twinkling stars, when he knocked on your door, suit and hair messy and tears in his eyes. You didn't have to ask to know that the source of this pain he was feeling was Teresa. The heartbreak that you were all too familiar with written plainly on his face as he collapsed on your sofa, head in his hands. 

The silence wasn't comfortable at all, just sad. Your heart ached at the idea that his was breaking right next to yours and there was no easy way to help ease that kind of pain. You fucking hated Teresa Lisbon for hurting this man. 

When you put your hand on his shoulder, it tenses under the warmth of your touch. He barely glances at you pull him into your chest, his tears making the  shirt you wore wet as he cried. It was the beginning of many nights where he would come to you for comfort even when the two of you moved to Washington. 

The days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months until he had finally moved on from her, the nights where you used to comfort him replaced with discussing work over coffee or watching movies at his place. 

“You okay?”

The question makes you tense as you glance up at Marcus from the plate of food in front of you and you set your fork down as you shrug. “I’m fine. Why?”

“You just seem,” he waves his hand up and down before shaking his head and closing his eyes, lips pursed. “Tense? I don't know. Just forget I said anything.”

“Actually,” you say and he looks into your eyes, causing your cheeks to redden further under his gaze. “I need to tell you something.”

“Is something wrong?” 

“I,” you mumble as you rub your hands down your jeans, looking anywhere but him. He had to feel the same way about you. “I like you, Marcus. More-more than a friend and now that you're over Teresa, I thought that you would maybe like to go out with me. On a date.” 

The silence that greets your ears is enough to make your eyes water. He clears his throat, reaching his hand across the table to rest on yours and you close your eyes at the contact, trying to ignore the lump in your throat as you open your eyes to look at him. 

You wish you hadn't. Because the pain in his eyes, which have begun to grow glossy, as he looks at you speaks a thousand words that he doesn't even have to open his mouth to say. He says your name so gently it forces a sob to escape your mouth as you quickly retract your hand from the warmth of his. 

“I’m sorry. I just-”

“I know,” you say quietly, wiping the tears off your cheeks and clearing your throat. “Let’s just finish dinner. There’s this, uh, new movie that I was thinking we could rent and watch?”

His answer barely reaches your ears but when you look up at him, a timid smile on his face, you know that you would do anything for this man even if it meant getting your feelings hurt. 

[anika-ann]

Of Muffins, Coffee and Other Miracles - Pt.2

Of Coffee, Brownies and-- Frack

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader        Word count: 2210

Type: Two-shot, reader insert

Warnings: swearing, tons of fluff and cheeky/cute Daredevil/Matt

Summary: You’re a secretary at Landman and Zack, having an office on the same floor as the interns. You notice one of them (which you might and might not have a crush on) seems down lately, so you decide to cheer him up the only way you can come up with. You bake muffins; right after your life is saved by a cheeky vigilante.  

Part 1

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

“Wild night out?” a male voice made you snap from your dozing and you straightened in your chair with a startle.

Oh shit. Oh fuck, you were so fired.

You look up to the man who addressed you, relieved it was only Foggy – one of the interns. He wouldn’t report you, right?

“Uhm… not sure I would call it wild, but… strange for sure.” Not every night you get to be kissed by a vigilante, even if only on your temple.

“It wasn’t drugs, right? Because drugs are bad,” he whispered, looking around for anyone who could hear. You smiled at him tiredly.

“I know. Not… that kind of strange. What can I do for you… Foggy, right?”

“Yes!” he confirmed cheerfully, until his smile fell. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we were introduced. You’re…” he eyed the name on your desk, repeating it dutifully.

“That’s me,” you confirmed with a nod. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh! Right. My friend, Matt, he’s interning with me here, I’m sure you saw him around. He’s… well, blind.” Oh, I did see him around. “Usually, he gets the copies of the files in braille, but today… whoever is the good soul doing it for him forgot or something and… I have no idea where to find a braille printer here and you seem to know your way around…? And you also look like you’re not gonna fire me for asking.”

You found yourself smiling in the presence of the cheerful man. “Only if you promise not to tell anyone that I was basically sleeping.”

“Deal.”

“Thanks. You have the file? I can print it. Honestly, anyone who knows where to find that printer or how to use it wouldn’t have the authority to fire you. Just send it to me and I’ll drop it in your… your…” you stuttered, unsure how to finish that sentence.

“You can say it. It’s a closet.”

“It is, isn’t it? But which one?” you played dumb, because… reasons. You shouldn’t have known where they were, you didn’t need it. Why would you? Yeah, I’m sooo subtle…

“Oh, the one down the hall.”

“Okay. Just e-mail me the file number and I’ll deliver.”

“Really? You’re amazing.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you laughed nervously. Amazing. You didn’t think – scratch that, you were sure your boss never called you that, and you were saving his life on daily basis; he wouldn’t even sign a paper unless you handed him the pen.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong…” Foggy pronounced, pointing at you. Then he seemed to realize something. “You said not many people know where to find that printer?”

You shrugged. “Not really, I guess. It’s on the fourth floor, but it’s next to impossible to go there unnoticed by people guarding printers and they are bitch to talk to, so if you ever need anything just tell me, I’ll do it for you. I’m sure your life is enough depressing in that… cubicle.”

“Hm… okay, thanks a lot!” He spun on his heels, walking out.

Weird.

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Dropping off the files in the right closet, you were confronted with…  your crush. You might have not realized it before, but… yeah. You were confronted by Matt Murdock himself and you were suddenly very sure you had a crush on this man. Crap.

The thing was… he was his typical self, which meant… really charming. He stood up from his desk when thanking you, learning your name, shaking your hand. He gave you one of the nicest smile you had ever seen, his grip firm, but gentle; you just stuttered when saying ‘nice to meet you’, stumbling out as quickly as possible, shaking your head over your own inability to communicate like a normal person.

One thing you noticed about Matt that day though was that he had a rather angrily looking gash next to his right eyebrow – whether he ran into a door or something else happened, you didn’t know. But you were glad you had baked the previous night, secretly leaving your backup lunch to ease the blind’s man pain.

You were stuck hungry because of that; you couldn’t make yourself regret it.

You were a hopeless case.

And a liar on top of that, because you had said it wasn’t ‘like that’ just few nights before. Perfect.

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It was raining that night, so you didn’t leave a snack for the vigilante who apparently kissed crime victim’s temples. Maybe the next night.

Or never, because he would avoid you forever, realizing that you were as far from his Lois Lane as you could be. Which was probably a good thing.

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You looked up from the screen at the sound of someone knocking. It was unusual – the door was always open, so people normally just waltzed in.

Matt freaking Murdock was standing in that open door, holding his walking cane and a cup holder in one hand, his other hand on the glassy door. You blinked in surprise at the sight. And god, he was such a sight for your sore eyes…

“Anyone in?” he asked carefully and you fought the urge to face-palm. He couldn’t see you watching him – which might be a good thing, considering you were shamelessly staring.

“Yes! Hi, Matt. What can I do for you? Someone forgot to print case files again?” you wondered when you gathered yourself.

He smiled, turning your direction, walking towards your desk.

“Uhm, no. No, I came to… say thank you.”

Did you hit your head in the shower this morning?

“Uhm. You’re welcome, it really wasn’t a big deal.“ You mentally praised yourself for so many coherent sentences. His smile only grew wider.

“Here. Uhm, I was told you were a bit tired yesterday, so I figured you might appreciate a coffee. One’s black with sugar, which should have ‘B’ on the cup, and the other one is vanilla latté with ‘V’. I had no idea which you might like.” He held out the holder for you to choose.

You had definitely hit your head. What the hell? Or rather… what the heaven?

“I… you really didn’t have to do that, Matt. That’s… thank you, but… it was just a file. Anyone would do that.”

You found the V cup, taking it hesitantly as if it could explode in your hand.

“Well, for one, that’s not true, especially here, and… it’s not just for the file,” he offered with a cute smile.

It wasn’t the smile that sent your heart racing. Well, it was, but also the thing he was implying— did he somehow figure out you were his… secret muffin-maker? Well, shit.

“I’m not sure-“

“People by the printers on the fourth floor are next to impossible to sneak by – that’s your words, not mine. Next to impossible, but not completely. That suggests you know how to do it. I imagine the bosses wouldn’t be happy finding out you’re using the printer to write notes for miserable blind interns, so sneaking under radar it is.”

You pressed your lips together, squeezing your eyes shut, cursing mentally. And out loud. “Frack.”  

“So, you know. Thank you. The muffins were delicious. They did make my day much better,” Matt assured you and an unfairly warm feeling spread in your chest. Maybe it wasn’t such a disaster he found out.

“There’s no way I’m finding a way to prove you wrong, is there?” you sighed. “You should reconsider your career choices, you would make a great detective. Glad it worked. I know that muffins can’t fix all the problems of the world, but occasionally, they can save the mood.”

“Not wrong there. I... uhm… the coffee is the best thank you I’m capable of. I hope my debt is paid.”

Well. That made more sense. “You didn’t have to-“

“That came out wrong. I wanted to say thank you, to erase a potential debt, because I was…”

You tilted your head to side, waiting what brilliant end that sentence would have. For once you weren’t the one who apparently didn’t know what to say.

“I was wondering if you would want to go for a coffee sometime? Or a dinner, maybe? Not as a thank you.”

Throw the incapability to speak up back on me, why don’t you. You blinked in utter shock, your knees buckling a little. Come again? “Not… not as thank you. You’re… you’re sure of that?”

“Hundred percent positive.”

You were certain you heard wrong. Which was easily possible given how loud your pulse was in your ears.

“Oh. Uhm… yeah. Okay. Sure. Just… just to be clear, since it’s not a thank you-“

“It’s a date. If you want it to be,” he added quickly, his confidence slightly shaken.

“If I want it to be…” you muttered under your breath incredulously. “Is the sky blue?”

“You tell me, it’s been a while since I’ve seen it last time,” he replied, grinning. He was so not supposed to hear that. Dammit.

“Oh my—… yeah, last time I checked it was still blue.”

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” He shoved his hand into his pocket, pulling out a phone, holding in out for you. “Would you enter your number in it, please? First name’s enough. I’ll call you.”

You finally set your cup down and took the phone from his hand, still not quite believing this was happening. Your fingers brushed his lightly when doing so, nearly sending you into a cardiac arrest. Jesus.

“Sure. You don’t have a distaste for black coffee right? Because I can totally switch the cups, I haven’t even sipped mine yet,” you mumbled as you were entering your number.

He laughed. “I like black coffee.”

“Noted. And number saved.”

You returned the phone to his extended hand. “Thanks. Dinner or coffee? I would offer a lunch, but the muffins appeared during lunch-breaks, which suggests you’re not leaving the office.”

“Detective, seriously. Dinner?” you asked, unsure.

“Dinner it is.”

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Dinner it was. And an amazing one. Matt picked the restaurant wisely – nice, but not too expensive, because neither of you were exactly rich (not that it mattered, because Matt was a gentleman who wouldn’t let the woman pay for the food, definitely not on the first date) and that way you could have a dessert without remorse; financial one anyway.

Matt saying that your muffins were better after eating a chocolate brownie was just the icing on the cake of how… sweet he was. He was even more wonderful than you had thought, but despite becoming a lawyer and working between the sharks, he was a down-to-earth person. Not playing any… leagues. And you had fun. His sense of humour was refreshing and he was apparently more than capable of smiling and laughing as cheerfully as his friend. He was a freaking sunshine and you found yourself drawn to the warmth and light like to a magnet.

He walked you home, looking almost disappointed that the night was ending, which was a sentiment you shared wholeheartedly.

“If I wasn’t so full, I would invite you upstairs. I have muffins,” you whispered as his hand travelled up your arm, wavering in the crook of your neck and he leaned closer to you.

The corners of his lips rose a little higher at your note and you were honestly regretting he was still wearing his dark red-tinged glasses. You would like to see his eyes to complete the picture.

“Well, I would say I’m sorry, but I’m actually glad. I… I really enjoyed tonight. I wouldn’t want to screw up.”

You could tell he hesitated, his thumb caressing your neck in silent question. You leaned in as well. ”I can’t really imagine you screwing it up, Matt, no matter what you would do. Unless you‘d wake me up now.”

“Is that a permission?” he breathed out an inch from your lips.

“It’s a plea.”

He met your lips softly, retreating too soon.

“Please, don’t wake me up,” you mumbled, not sure you wanted him to hear it.

“This is a goodnight kiss,” he reassured you lowly, kissing you again, caressing your lower lip and making your knees unfairly weak. “We’ll work our way up to a good morning one. If you’d like.”

You brought your hand to the back of his neck, keeping him close just in case he was getting any ideas and you returned the kiss, nibbling on his lips just a little. He let out a content sigh, his fingers tangling in your hair, his body shifting closer to yours.

“Probably sooner than later,” he mumbled against your mouth, making you smile and hum in agreement. You added ‘excellent kisser’ to the mental list you were making about him. Hot. Sweet. Gentle. Funny. Smart. Ray of sunshine. Gorgeous smile. Likes black coffee and my muffins. Never should stop kissing me.

He met your lips for the last time, withdrawing with a smile, his thumb running over your jaw.

“Goodnight,” you whispered, licking your lips to savour the taste of his own.

He pecked your temple lightly, wishing you the same.

‘Familiar,’ you added to your mental list and your heart, fluttering until the moment, started hammering in your chest wildly. Familiar voice, familiar smile, familiar gestures-

No, no, no, no, no. That was ridiculous. You were projecting again, you were-

“Clark?” you chocked out, perfectly aware of how stupid it was, expecting Matt to shoot you a puzzled look and ask you about your possible ex or something.

Except Matt did no such thing. Instead, he froze and said just one word that meant you were somehow, in some impossible way, right.

“Frack.”

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Matt Murdock Masterlist

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It’s silly and I’m grinning when writing it and posting it and I’m most definitely sure that this cliff-hanger is the end and it’s all up to you to wonder what happened next ;)

Thank you for reading :-*

[concubuck]

Muffin Stop

Alastor has his first face-to-face meeting with (@usedhearts)—the ringleader of Lust, one of seven most powerful demons in Hell, and not only the kind of dealmaker Alastor can only dream of being but also the living embodiment of seduction.

Alastor is extremely intimidated.

Which is kind of silly, because Ozzie just wants to meet him and see how he's doing as a new succubus. And also get some chocolate muffins.

Alastor

Alastor didn't know Ozzie's hours; he'd hoped that it might be a 24 hour operation and that its infamously long line would prevent him from approaching the door any time soon. Or, failing that, that it kept to normal nightclub hours and that approaching in the late morning would mean it was locked up tight.

But no, it was the worst of both worlds: the club was closed and there was no line in sight, but nevertheless a bouncer waited at the door to receive visitors. (A very shirtless bouncer. Alastor always felt overdressed in Lust.)

All right. It was a night club, not a death trap. He took a deep breath, made sure his smile was fixed firmly in place, and approached the door.

"Good morning, my fine fellow! This is going to sound far-fetched, but Lord Asmodeus requested a muffin delivery." He held up the muffin four-pack. "So, should I drop it off here, or...?"

Asmodeus

The bouncer gave him a once over, and pulled out his phone, checking a picture to confirm as he nodded.

"Yeah, he's expectin' you. Go on in, go to the back of the main room and then head up the stairs. At the top is our Lord's private chambers. Give a knock and he'll let ya in."

Alastor

Alastor's stomach did a flip then sank like a rock. Ah. Expected. Private chambers. "Good—wonderful. Thank you." He nodded to the bouncer and headed inside.

He hardly registered the walk through the empty club, instead trying to think up excuses to get out of whatever-was-coming-next without either lying to or insulting an entity vastly more powerful than he was. Everyone knows if you want to leave fairyland you can't eat the fairies' food, but he'd never learned how you're supposed to politely refuse a feast.

But his fearful calculations didn't hold him for long; and soon he was in front of Asmodeus's door. All right. No showing fear. He took a deep breath and knocked.

Asmodeus

Ozzie was indeed, waiting for him-- but the sitting room doubled as his office, and he lounged on a chaise with a table pulled close for him to go over paperwork, as was his morning ritual. Clad only in a pair of loose fitting sweatpants, he smiled when he heard the knock.

"It's open, come on in," He called.

Alastor

He opened the door, froze for a split second, and forced himself to walk in. Okay, it could be worse—he could be totally nude. But all the same, Alastor wasn't terribly fond of being received by lust personified in his private quarters, half-reclined, in nothing but pajama bottoms.

"Your majesty." He bowed. "Per your order—muffins delivered straight from the mortal realm." He lifted the box. "Where should I set them?"

Asmodeus

"Right here." He tapped a part of his table, close to where he lounged, right within reach.

"And after that, I'd like ya to take a seat, and one of those muffins-- I've got somethin' to discuss with you." He lifted his head from looking at the papers, at last, smiling at Alastor.

"You've been notoriously hard for me to see in person, y'know? Makes a fella feel a lil' put out."

Alastor

Oh, shit. He wasn't sure whether the *oh shit* was more about Asmodeus wanting to discuss something, or about the fact that one of the seven most powerful figures in Hell was put out at him.

He set the box down—watching his hands to make sure they weren't shaking—opened it, and took a muffin for himself. Then he took a chair that felt like a safe distance away, but not so far it would cause offense. "I'm afraid I don't much get out of Pride except for jobs on Earth, your majesty. But, if you—" *have need of my services,* no; *desire my presence,* no; he scrambled for a way to put it that was as free of euphemisms as possible; "—need to speak to me in person, I am, of course, at your beck and call."

Asmodeus

Asmodeus set aside his papers, sitting up a little as he reached for the box, taking a muffin for himself. He picked a little bit with his fingers and popped it into his mouth.

"Y'sound so formal, babe-- after what I saw on that blog of yours, wasn't really expectin' that." He chuckled.

"I sent ya coupons for free drinks, thought that might be enough to lure you down, but your resiliant, ain'tcha? Now, that's got me wonderin', though-- were you avoidin' me, or just Lust in general? It's not often someone who turns succubus stays up in Pride. Usually, they've had enough of that ring to fill five lifetimes and decide to head lower the second they turn.

"You, though, Mr. Radio Demon, didn't. You stayed in Pride, where people are so scared of you they piss themselves just seein' ya. Why is that?"

Alastor

He felt his face heat up and the burn travel down the back of his neck—even though he hadn't been accused of anything. Yet. "With all due respect, my blog is directed at sinners, not at one of the most important demons in Hell. I do try to be respectful toward the people who deserve it." He wouldn't have gotten this far if he'd mouthed off at Goetias, much less kings.

He asked himself whether the question of what he was avoiding was rhetorical—because he *really* didn't want to answer it—and decided it was safe to pretend it was when he got a second question. "I stayed in Pride *because* people p#ss themselves at the sight of me." He laughed wryly. "It's the only ring where my cost of living is effectively zero—because most sinners are too cowardly to hand the Radio Demon his bill. I like living frugally." It wasn't his *only* reason, but it was honest and it was at the top of his list.

Asmodeus

Ozzie let out a hum, the tone of it more musical than it would've been coming out of anyone else.

"Hm, that sounds an awful lot like a practiced excuse-- but I suppose you've had to practice it, huh? Bet you get that question all the time." He grinned, picking a few more pieces off his muffin to eat.

"You get hungry up there, though? Have enough to satisfy? I know there's sinners a plenty, but don't you want to get to know your fellow succubi? Seems like it would be lonely, especially now that you're removed from your humanity-- I'd certainly want to commiserate. If money were the only reason you're still up there, though, I could probably give you a better offer to scoot on down here instead. <3"

Alastor

His heart stopped on the first sentence and didn't pick up again until the second one. "Hah. *Constantly.* Multiple times a week."

*Hungry.* Constantly. At that very moment, even. He'd had to magic away his usual equipment just to ensure he wouldn't be dealing with a distracting bulge while trying to talk to Asmodeus. The only thing keeping it tucked away to the back of his mind was the fact that his nervousness was more prominent.

But if he could avoid it, he didn't particularly want to talk to Asmodeus about how horny he was. He had plenty of other topics to answer, anyway.

"I... yes, I *would* like to get to know other succubi better," he said carefully. "But—well, you know how hellborn demons tend to view ex-sinner succubi." Generally, pretty badly. Invaders, imposters, escaped convicts trying to integrate themselves into polite society. "At least the succubi around Pride are used to living near sinners. They're more... approachable. Less inclined to give one odd looks if one says something that reveals one is more familiar with human culture than demon culture." It was *safer.* And Alastor had learned plenty about keeping himself safe like that in life.

"And those aren't the only reasons I stay up there—there's better coffee, a broader culture, and it's the *only* ring where you can find authentic jazz played by the species that composed it... The money's the top reason, but not the only one."

Asmodeus

Eyes staring at his muffin, he listened, letting Alastor talk-- and his head moved at the mention of jazz. Tilted to the side, he studied Alastor, green eyes narrowed to slits.

"You say things like that, but how d'ya know if they're true if you don't branch out and try out other Rings? Jazz, coffee, culture....you could find all those things in Lust. Or in Greed, or Envy, or Wrath. Pride has the sinners, but Pride is also where you were trapped. It's familiar, but you ain't the same as you were before-- someday soon, the little succubus is gonna need to spread his wings and fly. Right now, you're rooted to the ground-- I've seen it a million times before you, Alastor. You're tryin' to cling to what you were-- you need to let go. You made the choice to change, you have to fully commit now, or else you'll be miserable."

He popped some more muffin in his mouth, finishing off the one he'd had and reaching for a second.

"You make excuses and that's fine, you're copin', but I can see right through that. Change scares humans, hell, it scares demons too-- and a huge change, like givin' up your humanity to become a succubus, well....it makes you wanna cling to the familiar. Like I said, I've seen it before." He shrugged. "The familiar's not for you anymore, though. The new's what's yours."

Asmodeus stared him down, green glowing eyes boring into him, waiting for his response.

Alastor

The wings on Alastor's back twitched as they were acknowledged. *Spread them and fly.* He couldn't even use them. Half of him stung with the embarrassment of being called out—but the other half of him burned at being read so *wrong.*

"I've had the coffee in Lust," he said stiffly. "It's too *sweet* for me. Even black it's sweet." Maybe "sweet" wasn't the right word—his taste buds had been scrambled inside-out and upside-down when he'd become a succubus—but it was the closest comparison he could make. "And I've never had much of a taste for sweets." He set down the double chocolate chunk muffin he'd been holding untouched since the start of the conversation.

"I didn't become a succubus to stagnate at the lowest rank an ex-sinner could take, your majesty. I did it to *climb*. Not high—I don't aspire to any royal courts—but higher than I am now. High enough to be comfortable. And in order to do that, I have to impress someone high enough to lift me up, and in order to do *that* I need to be around as many important people to impress as possible. Sloth demons rarely visit Greed, Gluttony rarely visits Envy, Wrath rarely visits Lust, et cetera—but King Lucifer holds his court in Pentagram City. Eventually, *everyone* visits Pride. Half the Goetias live there. This past month I've met three princesses just by walking down the street. Pride can get me where I want to go faster and more surely than any other ring.

"So I'll move when I've got something concrete to move *toward*—but I see no sense in leaving Pride merely for the sake of moving *away from* something. Sure, I was trapped there—but I'm not trapped *now,* and there's a lot worse options than getting free room and board on prison grounds when you know the gates will open for you any time you want to leave. *I have* changed, but I'm not *stupid,* and I'm not rushing into something unsustainable."

He shouldn't have spoken to a king like that—but too late to take it back now. His stomach twisted with anxiety.

Asmodeus

Contrary to what Alastor might've expected, he got no reproach from talking back to Asmodeus-- instead, the King of Lust has a smile creeping across his face. Giving a firm nod, Asmodeus finally sat up completely, feet that were halfway between a raptor's and a lion's setting down on the floor. He leaned forward, arms laying over his knees.

"So, you wanna move up. That's your goal-- higher than succubus but not up to the heights of royalty. Well then-- you know that you'd need to network. And if you know all that, then you should know that visitin' the royals you might wanna court favor with on their home turf isn't somethin' you can avoid--"

His expression grew serious, eyes narrowing again as he leaned closer, the air in the room growing dark, making his expression stand out tenfold. A layering appeared in his voice, three on one.

"**You've become part of me and mine, Alastor. By accepting the change, you have agreed to it. Usually, I see newly turned after their frenzy, they come to me to seek asylum and purpose. It is understandable that you did not, with the notoriety you had before, and the other jobs you have been taking. But it has been years now, and not a single visit, not a single calling card left to me. This is unacceptable. Do you always snub the King of whose domain you willingly enter?**"

Asmodeus sat back, the air growing heavy, thick with the heady perfume of pure Lust, as he awaited answer.

Alastor

He didn't trust that smile. That smile was a dangerous smile. He was not going to like whatever followed that smile.

He was right. As the room darkened he went stiff, eyes wide, smile fixed rigidly on his face. He didn't move until Asmodeus leaned back; and then he inhaled shakily. The scent in the air made his head spin; he pressed his knees together.

"M-my lord, I apologize, I—I didn't realize it was a snub. If anything, had I put thought into it, I would have expected that calling upon a king would be... *presumptuous.*" He laughed unsteadily. "You must understand—before I was a sinner, I was an American. New immigrants don't meet the president. I served in an army and never met my general. We aren't on familiar terms with our rulers. I had no idea there was an expectation that I should call upon you."

And that was true. Did he *want* to call on Asmodeus? No, not particularly. But he sure as hell would have if he'd known he was supposed to.

Asmodeus

Asmodeus's smile stayed wide and firmly upon his face, as he plucked another piece of muffin and ate it-- an incongruous motion, considering how serious he'd been. A slow, low laugh rumbled from his chest and his voice returned to the smooth tones he usually employed.

"Whoever helped facilitate your transformation seems to have left that little tidbit out, hm? Well, no matter, you're here now, that's what's important." He relaxed further, head tilting, inspecting and scrutinizing with new eyes.

"At least you're respectful, and you know when to bow and when to stand firm-- those are traits I respect." He reached forward, and forward still, the distance between them suddenly not so far as it was before, and rubbed Alastor's hair. Like one would give an affectionate pat to a favored pet.

"Now, I've got a job for you-- you want the details?"

Alastor

His shoulders sank in relief. "I didn't have a singular sponsor pushing for my promotion—I did my own research and persuaded the requisite number of nobles to vote in my favor. I sponsored myself, essentially." Which was unusual—certainly, the easiest way to become a succubus was for your patron to vouch for you to their buddies, provided you had a demonic patron. But since Alastor didn't, he'd thought it would be easier to persuade a bunch of nobles that he'd be okay to have around than it would be to persuade a single noble that it would be in their interest to go out of their way to advocate for him. "Paying a visit to the lord of lust didn't come up in my research. Perhaps the authors took for granted that everyone would know."

Oh, good—he was making a good impression so far. Shocking, but he wasn't about to complain. Especially since this was apparently a routine meeting he was *supposed* to have done a couple of years ago. He held still as he was patted—his entire scalp buzzed—and it took a long moment for his ears to unflatten.

"A—?" A job, but hadn't Asmodeus just said it was understandable that Alastor hadn't taken jobs from him? Maybe it was like visiting Asmodeus; maybe it wasn't optional. "Yes, of course, your majesty. By all means."

Asmodeus

"Usually, fulfilling one of my contracts is the first topside mission a succubus gets. I start them off slow and ramp it up, let them get used to what is required of them now before letting them pick for themselves. As you're already well aware of what is required of you, and have been picking up your own jobs, I won't bother with that--" He paused, his smile curving wider.

"But I _did_ have a special contract cross my desk that I thought would be exactly in your wheelhouse." He picked up a folder that sat neatly at the edge of the chaos of his workspace, and slid it over to Alastor.

"Take a look. I think you'll find this one fun."

Alastor

"Oh?" Well. He'd been trying his best to avoid jobs offered directly from Lust, but he didn't think there was any getting out of this one. Would taking it mean getting locked in to doing more jobs for Asmodeus, though? Would that mean his jobs for anything other than lustful tasks would dry up? It was already hard enough to find jobs open to succubi that focused on magic instead of seduction, he didn't want that door to slam shut for good. Maybe it was just a ceremonial thing, a symbolic first job from Asmodeus. At a minimum he had to look at it, he couldn't possibly object without *seeing* the thing.

As he suspected, it was a seduction case. All the usual info—picture, name, brief profile, why Hell was interested in him, what they wanted out of him, orientation, kinks...

Alastor stopped. He blinked. His brows went up. He looked at Asmodeus. He said, "'Musical theater kink'?"

Asmodeus

Asmodeus's grin curled wider-- he looked positively Cheshire now. Leaning on his hand, he gave a short laugh.

"Yeah-- thought that might pique your interest. Guy gets a hard on for Broadway, literally. He'd want someone who can perform _and_ **perform**. You were the first to come to mind, I know that's your wheelhouse."

Ozzie took a moment to let that soak in, inspecting his clawed hands-- he really should go get a manicure soon.

"Y'know, I take special care of my own. I _listen_. Not somethin' you could get from most of the other Royalty. So, how about this: you do that job, see how you like it, come back and report-- _honestly_-- about it, and we can work somethin' out more permanent to keep the _right_ kind of jobs flowin'. Jobs that you _wanna_ do, and not just whatever the fuckers that toss shit to freelance succubi have on offer."

He met Alastor's eyes, holding them with intensity. "Trust me, Alastor, your talent isn't somethin' I wanna see wasted just cause you think you need to scrape the bottom of the barrel."

Alastor

And there Alastor was, a fish on a hook. He took the bait as easily as if he'd never seen a fishing line before. And *that* was why even big bad dangerous dealmakers like the Radio Demon had to keep their guard up around royalty. Sure, he'd been playing this game for almost a century—but what was that next to millennia?

Yes, Asmodeus was saying all the right words. But then an intelligent pimp trying to recruit a girl usually did. What were the "right kind of jobs"? One can't go up to the king of a sin and say *what I really want to do is anything except the whole purpose of your domain*. Would they ever include another job that *wasn't* based on lust—or would they just be jobs catered so directly to his particular tastes that he would never notice he hadn't done anything but fuck for the last thousand years? No, he didn't like scraping the bottom of the barrel—but he liked the thought of being trapped in a barrel even less.

But could he afford to decline?

He looked over the file again; and, with the sinking feeling that he was easing his weight onto a live bear trap, he said, "Well—give me his top five favorite musicals."

Asmodeus

Ozzie chuckled, shifting through the papers on his table, and then handing another sheet to Alastor, after glancing at it himself.

"Phantom, Cats, LesMis, Bonnie and Clyde, and Hamilton." He sat back in his seat again, finishing off the rest of his second muffin.

"Did you wanna stay for a drink and hash out details, or do you prefer to just wing it for contracts?"

Alastor

God, that was a strange mix—the other four maybe could blend thematically, although Bonnie and Clyde was a bit low-brow in comparison, but why Cats? Why Cats?? And Alastor had never even seen Bonnie and Clyde live, he'd only heard the album...

That offer sounded dangerous. He glanced at Asmodeus warily. "Is there more I should know?" Don't take the bait...

Asmodeus

"Some like to strategize with me for what angle to take, how they should approach and things like that. Usually, it's a necessity for the newly minted succubi, but I figured I'd still give you the option." He gave a short shrug, pulling his feet back up onto the chaise, leaning against the arm.

"Even some of the older ones like to pick my brain from time to time."

Alastor

"In that case, I—prefer to choreograph my own musical numbers. Both figuratively and literally." And he hoped it wouldn't be taken as an insult to say so.

Asmodeus

Ozzie gave a short nod, reaching for the third muffin to start picking at it. "Alright, fair enough!" He chuckled. "Time limit's a week, so you got a week to get it done. Clear enough. Is there anything else you wanna ask before you go?"

Alastor

Alastor closed the folder. "Yes, actually. It's apparent that I've... missed some important etiquette lessons, somewhere along the line. What else have I missed?"

Asmodeus

"Well, we've covered that you were supposed to come see me, and that I was supposed to help ease you through the process with softball jobs." Ozzie leaned back, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"Ah, yes. You're to think of me as a resource for information-- about movin' up, lateral shifts, jobs that seem complicated, etcetera. I'm your point of contact, your liaison between you and the other Royals of my station and beyond." He paused. "Oh!"

Ozzie sat up again, remembering something else. "Right, and there's this--" He opened his hand and a blue flame appeared, coalescing into a dark steel key, with a little tag tied to it. It floated above his palm as he held it out to Alastor.

"You get free room and board in Lust, available any time of the day or night. The tag's got the address and apartment number. It's been waitin' for you for a while, since you never came for your intro meetin'." He stared at Alastor. "And don't even think of tryin' to refuse it, it's something _everyone_ gets that transitions. You're part of the everyone, babe."

Alastor

Lateral shifts. So if he ever wanted to transfer to another ring, he needed to go through Asmodeus first if he didn't want to cause offense. That was good to know. If he happened to find someone who seemed to *want* to hire him, he could probably be forgiven if he did a bit of legwork himself before going to Asmodeus—but Alastor couldn't afford to snub him again.

Well. No strings attached, it sounded like. The room was already his. He took the key and inspected the address. "How long is it good for?" He'd gotten temporary lodgings and a few months' stipend in Pride when he'd first transitioned, but that was meant to only last long enough for a new succubus to get through those rough first few months. Surely this was the same thing? Lust couldn't offer every single ex-sinner succubus a free place to stay for the rest of their existence? Wouldn't they run out of space eventually?

Asmodeus

"As long as you're a succubus, my domain is yours, and that key is good." He smiled. "There ain't as many sinners-turned-succubi as you might think. At most, it's maybe ten a year? And even then, plenty move on. And Lust is a big ring." Ozzie shrugged.

"I'm a little amazed that no one ever told ya that bit-- it's one of the bigger perks. But hey, maybe the others keep it on the downlow so that sinners aren't flockin' to turn just to get out of Pride." He laughed again.

Alastor

"That's actually more than I expected." But eventually it must add up. What really surprised him was the fact that "plenty" moved on—he'd been emphatically and repeatedly warned of the exact opposite, that most sinners who became succubi never climbed any higher. But who knew what Asmodeus's definition of "plenty" was?

"I haven't crossed paths with another ex-sinner, actually. Not that they've admitted, anyway." And why would they? Outside of Pride, Alastor kept quiet about his background, too. "You said room *and board*—where do I go for the free food?"

Asmodeus

"There's a dinning hall attached to the apartment complex, should have everything you need there. Or you could come to any of my restaurants and flash the key-- that gets you a free night's meal, and free feeding of other appetites, should you need it. Some use that service exclusively, so be sure to make sure they know which you want." He smirked.

"Yeah, the ex-sinners are a quiet bunch when it comes to their origins-- I'm sure you noticed how the natural born treat former humans. You should talk to some of my staff here-- I employ a number of former humans."

Alastor

The corner of his mouth twisted wryly. If only it was that easy. He had to check out this room of his, so he'd pick up a meal as long as he was here—but then he'd have to hurry back to Pride to take care of his other appetite. The itch was getting ever harder to ignore and that faint fragrance still lingering in the air wasn't making it any easier.

"Perhaps I will on a future visit." Now that he'd remembered how horny he was, he was *really* horny. He should wrap this up. (Anyway, the fact that Asmodeus apparently *collected* ex-sinners didn't assuage Alastor's fears that Asmodeus was trying to collect him, too. Could he be sure they weren't bait, too?) "Thank you for catching me up, your majesty."

Asmodeus

"Of course, I'm always good for correcting missteps and setting people straight--" He laughed heartily. "Or well, maybe not _straight_."

He gestured towards Alastor, sitting up again. "Sure you won't stay for that drink?" He asked, grin turning sly. It was hard to hide that particular feeling from him-- after all, he was its master. He could feel it on the air itself.

Alastor

*Called out.* Hey Asmodeus do you want to see what Alastor's deer-in-the-headlights face looks like?

It was a long ride back to Pride. And here was an offer. But what kind of an offer was it? An offer out of kindness? An offer as bait? If it was, then it wouldn't give him what he needed.

But what if it *did* give him what he needed? What if he enjoyed it too much? What *then*? And oh god, he still remembered what Asmodeus had said about people guzzling his cum—

*Don't eat the fruit, Persephone.* "Generous of you, but—I'm afraid I've got several errands to run now."

Asmodeus

Asmodeus sat back again, smiling calmly. "Alright, your loss. Go on then." He let his essence expand, filling the air with thick Lust again.

"_And know the offer's open. <3_"

Alastor

*Oh I'm Alastor and I'm SO smart, I'm going to go around wearing leggings with no underwear underneath, I'm SURE this will never backfire on me* and he desperately hoped he wasn't leaving a puddle on Asmodeus's chair. He should have stuck with his original set of equipment, the boner would be less embarrassing. "U-understood." He got to his feet and bowed stiffly. "I'll—let you know when I've finished this job."

Asmodeus

Ozzie waved, and the door opened for him. "Good day, then, Alastor, I'll be expecting your visit in a week's time."

Alastor

"Of course, your majesty." Another half-bow, and he hurried out.

*Hell.* All that and here he was, stuck in Lust, ironically the worst place for him to try to deal with this problem. At least he had somewhere to go now—if only to take the edge off long enough to get him home.

As he headed down the stairs, he squinted at the address on the key, trying to figure out where his new apartment was.

[emy-loves-you]

Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays Chapter 17

Valentine’s Day Gays

Chapter 16 | Masterlist | Chapter 18

Warning: Implied/referenced sex

Virgil sighed, flopping onto his bed. It’s now Valentine’s Day and Virgil had no one to hang out with. His schedule with visiting Patton, Logan, and Roman hadn’t changed much. Sure they got a little starry-eyed at times and they asked a surprisingly large amount of questions about his ‘friend’ Virgil, but their interactions were still the same. Anxiety flirted, they’d sometimes flirt back, and Virgil would leave with his head in the clouds and a hole in his chest. Today was different, however. Virgil already knew to steer clear of Janus and Remus, since they were always extremely mushy and/or horny on Valentine’s Day. Virgil was planning on visiting his crushes, but they had texted him yesterday. They had asked Virgil to tell ‘Anxiety’ that they wouldn’t be at work today. Apparently today was their 8-year anniversary of being in a poly relationship. Virgil sighed, a hollow feeling in his chest. What did he normally do on Valentine’s day? His eyes scanned the room, trying to find something to entertain himself. Guitar, movies, Patton’s drawing, books- wait a minute.

Virgil jumped up, grabbing the framed drawing of Pat, Lo, and Princey. Why was it still here? Virgil shipped it to Patton yesterday! Or did I? Virgil shook his head. Either way, the drawing’s here, and it should be with Patton. Virgil bit his lip, contemplating his options.

He could send it through the mail, but then it would take at least a day to reach Patton. It wouldn’t really be an anniversary gift then, would it? He would usually ask Janus to take it over, but he was, em… busy, with Remus today. That only leaves one option, doesn’t it?

Virgil sighed, standing up. He was about to send a text to Patton, but decided against it. Might as well leave it a surprise. He made sure he looked presentable before grabbing the drawing and walking out the door.

The walk to their house wasn’t too long, maybe 20 minutes at most, but it was long enough for doubts to settle in. Sure, he’d been to their house before, he still had pictures of their TPed house from Halloween. But he’d never visited while they were home. What if they got weirded out? God, what if Patton didn’t like the drawing? When he sends it through post it’s okay, since he can’t see their faces when they receive it. But handing it to them? That’s a whole other level of terrifying.

Before he knew it, Virgil was standing on their front porch, hand raised to knock. Technically, he could just leave the drawing on the porch, walk away, and text Patton to let him know it’s there. He wouldn’t have to show his face, or explain why he’s there, or see his rejection-

No. Virgil shook his head. He deserves better than that. They all do. Before he could second-guess himself, he quickly knocked on the door. He heard a noise from inside before the door started to open. Virgil quickly hid the drawing behind his back. The door opened to Roman, wearing loose sweatpants and no shirt-

Flirt Mode: ACTIVATED

Anxiety eyes purposefully raked over Princey’s body, memorizing every detail for… future activities. Roman blushed. “Anxiety, what a p-pleasant surprise.” He stammered out. “What brings you here?” He paused, tilting his head like a puppy. “And how do you know where I live?”

Anxiety smirked, leaning against the doorframe. “I’ve got a package to deliver. Apparently Virge forgot to send it yesterday, so I decided to drop it off for him. He’s the one who gave me your address.” He licked his lips. “Now, can I talk to Patton-cake? It’s his package, after all.”

Roman’s eyes were glued to Anxiety’s lips, and it took a few moments for him to respond. “Y-yes, of course.” He stepped aside. “Come in, come in.” Anxiety raised an eyebrow but stepped inside. Wasn’t expecting this, but okay. “Patton!” Roman called out. “You’ve got a package!”

“Coming!” There were a few moments of silence before Patton came rushing down the stairs. He wore light blue pajamas with silver hearts. His glasses were slightly skewed and his hair was ruffled. Logan followed him, wearing dark blue pajama bottoms with silver constellations. Like Roman, he wore no shirt. There were hickeys littering Logan’s chest and neck. Anxiety is now realizing two very important things:

He has never seen these three men in the same room, nor has he interacted with more than one of them at a time as Anxiety

He’s really gay

Anxiety whistled. “If I knew there’d be a show, I wouldn’t have taken so long to get here.” Both men squeaked, Logan burying his head in his lover’s shoulder. Which was quite cute, especially since Patton was shorter than Logan, which made Logan bend over slightly, angling his collarbone just right-

“Roman! You didn’t tell us that we have company!” Patton squeaked out, shaking Anxiety out of his gay trance.

Roman smirked. “Well, I didn’t want to keep Anxiety waiting. Besides, I didn’t lie about the package.”

“Yeah, apparently Virgil forgot to mail it yesterday.” Anxiety held out the frame face-down. “He said it was some sort of Valentine’s Day gift? He didn’t want it to come in late, so I offered to drop it off.”

Patton squealed, running over to grab the frame. He quickly turned it around, tears forming in his eyes. “Oh, it’s perfect.”

Logan cleared his throat, a light blush still on his cheeks. “What is it, Patton?”

Patton held up the frame for Logan and Roman to see. It was an exact drawing of the photo Patton had sent. They were on a bench. Patton was giggling, Logan was blushing, and Roman was grinning like a fool. “Do you remember this?” Patton asked, his voice soft.

“That was our first date,” Roman said in awe.

Logan nodded. “February 23rd. Waverly Park.”

Patton turned back to Anxiety, his eyes shiny. “Please tell Virgil that we love this so, so much. It’s going right on the mantle!” He turned to the impressively large mantle, which housed Roman’s katana, Patton’s glass flowers, and now Virgil’s drawing. Logan’s telescope sat next to it on the floor. Patton turned back around to face Anxiety. “Oh, have you eaten yet? We have leftover muffins from this morning!”

Anxiety smiled, turning to follow Patton into the kitchen. “I’m sure I can squeeze in a few muffins. And if they’re anything like the muffins at your work, I know I’m gonna love ‘em.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst

[enamoured-x]

so it goes

Summary: When Alex moves in across the hall, Rio knows he’s in trouble. A good girl like her would never want anything to do with him, or so he thinks. 

Word count: 2.2k

Chapter 2

Alex was putting her leftover chocolate chip cookies in a container when an idea crossed her mind. She always made big batches and she was only one person, it would only be right to give some to her neighbor. It was a kind thing to do. Kind, yeah right, she just wanted an excuse to see him. She put about a dozen cookies in a container and slipped on her shoes. She was in leggings and an old faded tee, her hair pulled back, but she wasn’t about to change. She wasn’t that desperate. She did briefly check the mirror though before walking out. 

What if he’s not home? She scolded herself, if he wasn't home she could just give them to him later. She knocked on his door. She waited a few seconds and then she heard the lock twisting and the door opened. Rio was surprised to see her but it was most definitely a happy surprise. 

“Hi, sorry to bother you but I made a lot of cookies and I thought my friend would enjoy some.” Rio had to admit she was good, sure she was shy but she never let it control her. He liked that. 

“You thought correct.” He took the container from her. Alex was going to leave but he stayed at his door, opened the container, took a cookie out, and started to eat it. Again, he kept his eyes on her. She didn’t know what to worry about first, that he wouldn’t like them or the fact that he was staring at her while licking his lips. She swallowed hard.

Rio liked the hint of red that would spread on her cheeks when he looked into her eyes. He also really liked the cookies. He didn’t eat much home cooked stuff so the freshly baked cookies were a treat. 

“These are fucking amazing, thank you.” Alex smiled at his praise.

“No problem, I bake a lot so maybe you’ll get to try more stuff.” Rio stopped chewing and smirked at her. Yeah, he wanted to try a lot more.

Alex bit her lip at the innuendo that came of her phrasing. His smirk said it all. 

“A baker? I got lucky.” He felt so lucky. He barely knew her but the few interactions he had with her had been interesting to say the least. She was gorgeous and sweet, he’d hope he could find out more about her. He didn’t want to be too forward with her though. Although she was confident, she was still shy and he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. He could be her friend for the time being. He could be patient. Besides, he didn’t have friends and he didn’t mind Alex being his first. She seemed genuine and he could use genuine. 

“I guess you did, well, have a goodnight.” This time Alex walked away before Rio could say anything. She shut her apartment door and smiled. 

Alex waited two days before she made an ungodly amount of brown sugar cinnamon muffins. She figured two days was enough as to not seem desperate. Desperate, that word again. She had to admit, she was kind of desperate but she didn’t want to be too forward. Besides, being friends was okay for now. She put them in a container, checked herself once again, and walked out the door. She was in a similar night time outfit as before when Rio saw her. She knocked on his door and waited. He opened the door with a smirk. 

Rio was on the couch watching tv when he heard the door knock. He knew it had to be Alex and that made him a bit giddy if he was being honest. He liked that she didn’t care that she was bare faced and dressed down, she was comfortable showing him that side already and he liked that even more. 

“Brown sugar cinnamon muffins?” She held up the container.

“I’m allergic to cinnamon.” Her eyes widened.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I —”

“Nah, I’m just messing with you. I will gladly take those off your hands.” He reached for the container but she pulled them back. She scoffed and then laughed.

“That was mean! I felt bad for you for a second there.” Rio let out a little laugh and Alex really liked the sound of it. 

“I’m sorry, just for the record I don’t have any food allergies.” He wanted to clarify in case she would be delivering more sweets to his door. He wanted her to come everyday. Getting to see her and get some home made goodies? Man, it was his favorite part of the day. He told himself to get a grip, he barely knew her but he couldn’t help it. 

“Good to know but just for that I think I might just take these to the sweet old couple on the floor below us.” 

“Nah, don’t do that. I’ll be good, I promise.” Alex licked her lips and Rio’s eyes followed the movement.

“Fine,” she sighed playfully. He took them from her and tried them in front of her like last time. 

“Damn, you should open up a bakery.” He moaned a little and Alex tried to contain herself at what that sound was doing to her. 

“I already own a flower shop, I don’t think I could handle a bakery too.”

“That shop is yours?” Rio was surprised to find this out. He wanted to know more. 

“Yeah, opened it about a year ago.” Alex nodded her head. 

“Hmm.” He hummed, eyes watching her like a hawk again. As if he could hear everything she was thinking by just looking at her. 

“Well, enjoy the muffins.” Rio nodded at her and then they went their separate ways again.

The next night Alex was too lazy to bake anything and too lazy to make dinner. Which is how she decided she would go out to grab some food. She had just gotten home from the shop, still dressed in her jeans and tank top. It was a little chilly so she grabbed her jean jacket and her purse and walked out of her apartment. She stared at Rio’s door briefly and an idea crossed her mind. Maybe Rio was hungry too. Besides, friends hangout. They’ve never hung out so maybe it was time to start.

Alex knocked on the door and Rio was quick to answer. He took notice that she didn’t have any treats with her and that she wasn’t in her usual night attire. He also took note that she was in jeans. Fuck. They were tight and accentuated her legs nicely. She was so cute and innocent that he almost felt bad for wanting her to turn around so he could see her ass in the jeans. 

“Hey, um, I was about to head out to get some food and was wondering if you maybe wanted to come.” She was being kind of bold but it was only an invitation for food, it was harmless. It was just a friendly thing to do.

Shit, Rio was once again surprised by her. But he wanted to get to know her after all and what better chance?

“Yeah, give me a second.” He went back into his apartment, leaving his door open and then he came back a few seconds later with a jacket on over his black shirt. He knew he shouldn’t be entertaining anyone, especially not someone like her. It would get complicated, but the smile she gave him cleared his head of those thoughts right away. 

“Where we going?” He asked as they walked down the steps. He couldn’t help himself and snuck a glance at her ass. Shit. She should wear jeans more often. But then he wouldn’t be able to see her in her cute little dresses. Damn, he was at a crossroads. 

“I don’t know yet, I was thinking burgers and milkshakes?” 

“Sounds good to me.” The burger place she liked was just down the street so they walked there, not that Rio minded. He wanted more time with her. He kept reminding himself he didn’t even know her and that he shouldn’t be this interested already but there was just something about Alex that pulled him in. 

“So, are you going to tell me about yourself or am I going to be stuck with playing twenty questions?” Alex asked. Rio laughed. 

“Well, what do you want to know?” He looked down at her as they continued walking. 

“I don’t know, anything you want to tell me.” 

“And if I don’t want to tell you anything?” Rio only meant to tease but he realized she might take it the wrong way. But she didn’t seem to take offense. 

“Then you don’t have to. I can tell you about some crazy lady who came in today making a scene. I can talk, if you’d like.” Rio was not expecting that. She was too damn nice for her own good. Shit, maybe he was being selfish by wanting to be near her. Alex was so pure and kind hearted and there was no doubt in his mind that he’d just ruin her. But she smiled at him through the silence and he couldn’t help himself, he wanted to be selfish. Some would say he was very selfish, always taking what he wanted when he wanted with no regard for anyone else. Sure, that was the business side of him. He had to be cold and calculated, if he wasn’t people would screw him over and he wouldn’t be where he was. But personally? The only things Rio allowed for himself were artificial shit like his car, his apartment, and even his clothes sometimes. But people? He never let anyone close and damn did he want to. This time he wanted to. 

“I’m originally from California.” He told her, he was definitely going to talk. Although he wouldn’t mind hearing her talk while he listened. 

“Wow, really? What part?”

“Long Beach, moved here when I was fourteen though.” She looked very interested now. They eventually arrived at the place, still talking as they walked up to the counter to order. 

Alex ended up paying much to Rio’s dismay but he knew they’d do this again, he knew they’d be doing this a lot more if he was lucky and he would pay then, so for now he let her pay. It was cute the way she argued with him that she was the one who invited him out so she just had to pay. Everything Alex did was cute to Rio and he almost hated how easy it was to like her. 

They sat down with their food and got to talking a bit more. Rio had to admit he never really sat down and had a decent conversation with anyone anymore. It was all business and he didn’t really have friends so there was no one to even talk to. He missed having some form of connection with someone. He enjoyed the breath of fresh air Alex was. He was always working, always busy with something and he never got to just sit down and enjoy a meal and have a conversation that wasn’t about money. He liked it a lot, and she seemed to be enjoying herself too. 

“You’re not seriously doing that?” She asked him as he dipped a few fries in his chocolate shake and ate them.

“Everyone does it, it’s good.” He did it again and she scrunched her nose.

“Not everyone, I definitely don’t.”

“Have you ever tried it?” He asked, eyebrows raised. 

“Well, no but—”

“Then how can you know? Here.” He handed her a fry he dipped in his shake. 

“But—”

“Nah, you can’t bash on it if you haven’t tasted it.” She rolled her eyes at him but took the fry from his hand and popped it into her mouth. 

She sighed, “it’s not that bad.”

They spent an hour there just talking about random stuff and talking about their shared hispanic culture. Rio couldn’t get enough of her, she was so easy to talk to. The way she told stories—she was so animated. At one point he put his chin on his hand and just took her in while she was so deep in her story. 

Alex decided that asking Rio to join her for dinner was one of the best ideas she had in awhile. She was having fun and she was learning a lot more about him. She liked him and they were just barely getting to know each other. She liked that she had his full attention, he never looked at his phone and never got distracted by whatever else was going on. He just looked at her and wouldn’t stop. She liked that although he didn’t seem like the type to talk much about himself let alone talk at all, he was. 

“Well, I’d say we are definitely friends now.” Alex said as they were now back at their apartment. Rio wasn’t tripping off the friend comment, he saw the way she looked at him, he knew he couldn’t be the only one interested. 

“Definitely.” He smirked at her. 

“We should do this again sometime, friend.” She couldn’t help but tease. Now knowing him more, she found herself a bit more comfortable with him. 

“Yeah, we should.” And with that he went into his apartment and Alex went into hers. 

[shaynawrites23]

Charming Date

Pairing: 1940s Bucky x reader

Prompt: “My mother warned me about guys like you.”

Word count: 1359 (I would have used the ‘keep reading’ function but I write on mobile soo...)

Written for @iliveiloveiwrite’s writing challenge!

Header is by the talented @peachesandpinks, go check out her blog! She writes for Harry Potter!

The smell of fresh bread grew stronger as you got dressed and ran a hairbrush through your hair, hissing softly every time you hit a group of knots. Once you were able to run your fingers through your hair freely, you pulled it into a neat back roll, slipping your favorite floral pin into it, the flower a single artificial lily.

It took you three tries before it was to your satisfaction, and you silently thanked God your mom didn't come to check what was taking you so long.

You twirled a couple of times in front of your mirror, watching the way your high-waisted, black skirt flared out before settling back around your legs. It matched perfectly with your cream colored blouse and black heels, and your red lips smiled back at you, your white teeth peeking out between them.

"(Y/N)! We're opening!" Your father's voice filled the hallway.

"Coming!" You called back, closing the door to your room and carefully making your way down the stairs.

Upon entering your family's in-house bakery, you were greeted by the strong smell of pastries and bread. Your mother spotted you standing in the doorway, handing you a muffin.

"Oh, you look wonderful, darling! That skirt fits you perfectly. This for anyone special?" She winked at you, one eyebrow raised at your halfhearted protests.

"Ma, stop. I don't have a boyfriend and you know that."

"Oh hush, honey. You'll have boys falling at your feet soon enough."

"Maybe too soon." Your father cut in. "You'll tell me if there are any boys I need to talk to, right?"

"Of course, dad." You groaned. "So, shall I get to work?"

They handed you two loaves of warm bread, reciting the addresses of the families to whom you were to deliver. You nodded, the little bell above the door tinkling as you left. The summer sun was just peeking out over the rooftops, enveloping Brooklyn in a warm light.

Your heels clicked against the pavement and you found your thoughts wandering in the peace and quiet of this Saturday morning. You were telling the truth when you said you didn't have a boyfriend, but that didn't mean there were no boys occupying your mind.

You rapped on the front door of the first address, pursing your lips as you waited. There was a boy, the only one capable of making you swoon with nothing more than a smile, but you had never told your parents about him.

The door creaked open, the elderly woman greeting you. You handed over the first loaf, exchanging pleasant small talk with her as you always did. Her bright blue eyes twinkled cheerfully as she gushed over your appearance. It reminded you of your grandmother, who did the exact same thing whenever you visited.

You politely declined when she invited you in, informing her of the deliveries you still needed to make. She let you go, but not before she got you to promise to visit some other time, muttering something about how, after her son moved away with his children, she had no company.

You readily gave your word, trotting back down the street as she closed the door.

Your second delivery went without a hitch, and as you made your way home, you found your thoughts wandering again. Your mind had seen him often enough to be able to conjure up a perfect image of him. His sharp jawline, brown hair that looked so soft, and a pair of the most beautiful blue eyes you had ever seen, eyes that could knock the breath out of you with one glance...

A whistled tune brought you out of your thoughts, and as you glanced around in surprise, you found the source of the sound.

Speak of the devil...

A man fell into step beside you, tossing you a glance out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey doll," he drawled. "Didn't expect to see you out this early."

"Hi Bucky. I could say the same for you, got something special planned today?"

He gave a quick shrug. "Maybe, maybe not. I'm still trying to decide whether I should go through with it. How about you?"

It was your turn to shrug now. "Just handling deliveries for my parents."

"Really? 'Cause I thought you might have a date today, what with looking so especially gorgeous today."

Your cheeks flushed at his compliment, opening your mouth to reply, but he continued.

"But then I was wondering what young man wouldn't pick you up for a date, and I thought I might have to give him a lecture on how to be a gentleman."

Bucky's voice sounded jesting enough, and it might've been your imagination, but you detected some sadness in it as well.

"Well, lucky for you, I don't have a date today, or anytime soon, in fact. I'd hate to see you getting into another fight."

He didn’t reply for several moments, the both of you revisiting the last fight he had. It was to save Steve from a guy he provoked, a guy who looked almost twice his weight. Bucky jumped in, throwing a couple of punches but, being equally matched, they both took hits. You found him together with Steve, a large bruise forming on his cheek and a split lip, blood coating his teeth. You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t break at the sight.

“Aw, doll, no need to worry ‘bout me. I’m a strong man.” He jokingly flexed his biceps. “I’m touched, though. What did I do to get such a beautiful dame’s attention?”

“I don’t think I’m gonna tell you, Buck. For all I know you’re planning to woo another woman with that information.”

“Darlin’, you wound me!” He pressed a hand over his heart, pouting. “I promise you, I’m only after one dame.”

“Uh-huh.” You rolled your eyes, but you were unable to wipe the grin off your face. “A guy like you? Likely story.”

“It’s true.” His hand slipped into his coat, and your eyes couldn’t help but follow his movements curiously. “I already suspected you might need convincing.”

You? Need- what?

He drew a single red rose out of his pocket, offering it to you with one of his million-dollar smiles. How could you do anything but accept, when it came to him?

The stem, fresh and green, was smooth, as if someone had painstakingly removed the thorns by hand.

As if guessing your thoughts, Bucky remarked, “I removed the thorns for you. Can’t have you nicking your lovely fingers.”

“Oh, wow,” you breathed. “Thanks, Bucky.”

“You’re welcome. So, do you believe me now?”

You were nearing home, and you didn’t want the conversation to end. Especially not with your brother sick and your extra workload, leaving you with little time for your social life.

“Of course I do.” You smiled, meeting his gaze.

Bucky had a stunning smile. “Good. So, doll, does that mean you’ll go on a date with me?”

“Hmm. What would you plan for this date?”

“Well,” he shrugged, “I’d pick you up Friday night at six, take you out to dinner, and then we’d go dancing, and I could show off the dazzling beauty on my arm.”

You huffed out a laugh. “James Barnes, my mother warned me about guys like you. Charming their way into your heart.”

You paused, just as the two of you stopped in front of your parents’ bakery. His tongue darted out to nervously lick his lips as he waited for your answer.

“Yes, of course I’ll go on a date with you.”

Bucky’s smile could light up the world as he laughed in relief and happiness, scooping you up into a warm hug.

“You really know how to make a guy sweat, don’t you?”

“Maybe.” A burst of confidence hit you and you leaned up, standing on the tips of your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “See you Friday!”

You waved to him as you entered the bakery, giggling at his stunned expression, fingers brushing over the lipstick mark you left.

“(Y/N)! Who was that boy?”

“Mom!”

This was so much fun to write, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

[pickybearcub]

Getting to know Spiderboy: Chapter 15

Pairing: Peter Parker x OC (platonic) Genre: Friendship/ Adventure/ Family Story summary: Ten minutes. Ten minutes was all it took. She found his backpack in the alley and left before he got there. Now, before Peter knows it, Ned thinks he has a secret girlfriend and Spiderman has to be her kibble runner.

Chapter warnings: Flash is still a jerk. Cuteness and fluff near the end. A/N: Made some art for this chapter (will post later). GIFs not mine, story dividers by @whimsicalrogers​

Catch up here

Ned: Liz invited me and Peter to a party at her house!

Nadia was a little surprised. Why wasn't Peter the one texting her this? A thought later and she chuckled. The teenager was probably still freaking out slightly.

Nadia: You know, I'm actually going there tonight too. Liz ordered some cupcakes for her party.

Ned: Oooh! What kind?

Nadia: That's a surprise. :)

She typed out the text and sent it to Ned before getting back to wiping down a few tables. Her phone buzzed again, but she finished cleaning up and headed to the back room of the café before she took out her phone again to read the text.

Peter: You're going to Liz's party? I thought you agreed to swap patrols today?

Nadia: I told Ned I'm delivering cupcakes.

Nadia: Don't worry, I'll be long gone before you even get there.

Peter: Oh, ok.

Nadia: It's going to be a party full of high schoolers. Why would I stay?

Nadia chuckled before shooting one last text to Peter and getting back to work.

Nadia: Have fun. You deserve to relax after dealing with Ned the whole day. And talk to Liz!

Nadia: The cupcakes are one of the recipes we made for the bake sale. I give you permission to share it. ;)

Nadia prepped the cupcakes and tied the boxes together, three in each hand. She pulled up a Google street view of the address she was given on her phone. Since the party was in the suburbs, she could easily open a portal somewhere she wouldn't be noticed. The sun was just beginning to set when she arrived at the house. Knocking on the door, Nadia was greeted by the smiling face of a short blonde-haired girl.

"Hi!" The girl chirped.

"Hey. I'm Nadia Capelli and I brought over some cupcakes for Liz Allan." Nadia replied, holding up the boxes in her hands.

"Oh! Here, let me help you with that!" The blonde hastily took one set, before stepping back and calling over her shoulder, "Liz! The cupcakes are here!"

Nadia noticed that a few other students had already arrived and were loitering around the living room, hallway, and backyard.

There was a bit of shuffling before the familiar face of Peter's crush popped out from where Nadia assumed the kitchen was. "Nadia!" The younger girl smiled and rushed to the doorway, taking the second set of boxes from the older girl.

"Come inside! Uhm, the pizza won't get here 'til a bit later, but we have some soda in the kitchen." Liz invited, stepping aside.

Nadia shook her head and gave an apologetic smile. "Oh no. I couldn't. Besides, I'd be a bit out of place with all of you kids." She chuckled.

"You make it sound like you're fifty." Liz laughed. "You can't be that much older than us, Nadia. Aren't you eighteen? Nineteen maybe?" She guessed.

"Older, actually." Nadia grinned. Liz looked a bit surprised.

"Really?" She shrugged. "I swear you don't look like it. Anyway, how much do I owe you again?" She asked while reaching a hand into her pocket. Her brow furrowed before she turned around. "Betty! Is my purse in the kitchen?"

"Hey, actually," Nadia called Liz's attention. "Just give the payment to Peter. He can hand it to me tomorrow or I can get it from his aunt." She held out a piece of paper listing the prices of the different muffins and the total bill.

The girl seemed a bit unsure, "I'm not really sure if he's coming to the party, though. He's been a bit busy lately with his Stark internship. Ned mentioned he was thinking of quitting the school band too." The same blonde girl from earlier appeared behind Liz, holding a purse. Betty gave Liz her bag and took the boxes of cupcakes in exchange.

"Really? I didn't know." Nadia frowned. One of the reasons she'd agreed to take turns going on patrol was so that Peter wouldn't feel the need to quit his extra-curricular school activities.

"You seem really close to Peter," Liz said casually as she pulled some bills from her wallet.

"Hmmm?" Nadia was pulled from her thoughts. She smiled fondly after a second. "Yeah. He deals with me badgering him into running a few errands every once in a while. He's sweet."

Liz paused while she counted the money before she handed it to the older girl with a smile. "I think it's nice he has someone else other than his aunt watching over him. He mentions you a lot during decathlon practice. That's how I remembered the cupcakes you sold during the bake sale a few months back. Thankfully, my mom still had your card."

Nadia nodded, "I think both he and Ned try to talk me up a little too much hoping they'll probably get a batch of free pastries in return." Both girls chuckled. "Thanks again for ordering from me. Just shoot me a text again if you ever want to buy some cookies or brownies too." With that, Nadia waved and started down the driveway. "Have a good party!"

"Thanks! And take care!" Liz waved back before going back inside. She left the front door open because a few more of her friends from school were walking up the driveway.

"Who was the college girl?" Flash Thompson asked from the doorway of the kitchen as he poured himself some soda. "She was pretty."

Liz rolled her eyes slightly. "Peter and Ned's friend."

He almost choked on his coke. "Y-You mean she's Parker's babysitter?" He shook his head before saying disdainfully, "That's totally unfair."

Liz sighed and ignored Flash, pulling another pack of plastic cups from a cabinet.

Peter's nerves only grew worse as they drove up to the house in the suburbs. He would rather be training with Nadia or going on a split patrol with her rather than be here. Music was playing loudly in the background, lights were flashing from inside the house, and a lot of people were milling around.

"This was a mistake. Hey, let's just go home." He pleaded with May, but then she started lecturing, and he jumped out of the car not really wanting to hear more of how he was "flowering". He cringed at the word.

He felt like a hypocrite when he used to tell Nadia that she had a responsibility when it came to using her powers, yet here he was with his suit under his clothes. All for the sake of popularity.

His resolve to just be plain Peter Parker during the party was wavering, but he slowly conceded to his fate when May drove away and they walked up the path to the house. Seeing Liz made another part of him made him rethink the decision and maybe just show up for a bit as his vigilante self. However, the thought of how disappointed Nadia would be really bothered him.

Peter began to argue with Ned about "spidering it up".

Whatever resolve he had to just be himself that night crumbled to dust when Flash called him that stupid name and started spewing taunts from the DJ booth, loud enough for everyone, even the neighbors, to hear.

Before he knew it, he was on the rooftop of Liz's house, practicing what he would say when he showed up as Spider-man.

"God this is stupid…" Peter muttered to himself, running a hand over his face. "What am I doing?" He looked down at the living room, where Ned was looking around, waiting for him.

 Responsibility.

Using the suit as a party trick was the absolute opposite of that word.

Happy already didn't take him seriously. If he found out, and he definitely would with all the social media, that he made an appearance at a party as Spider-man, it definitely wouldn't help his case.

And Nadia… Peter wouldn't be able to face her. She was always understanding of him, but she would still be disappointed. Peter didn't want that. She was one of the only people who treated him like he could handle himself.

He was abruptly pulled from his thoughts when an abrupt explosion caught his attention.

"The hell?..." He wondered to himself, pulling on his mask. He was just starting out to the site of the blast when his phone started ringing, Nadia's teasing face on the screen.

::Hey, Peter… I know you're at a party, but-::

"I saw it." He huffed as he ran across a sprawling lawn of grass, the sprinklers going off. "I'm on my way to check it out."

::You're on your way?:: There was a pause before Nadia came to a conclusion. :: You had your suit with you… Why would you?…:: She trailed off, suspicion in her tone. :: Nevermind… The priority is recon right now. That blast looked powerful, be careful. I'm also on my way.::

-----

Nadia had conjured a portal based on her best estimations of where she'd seen the blast. Luckily, the explosion left a hum of energy in the air that she could track. The second blast that crackled through the air helped too.

She had hoped that her choice of location to wait for the arms deal to happen was closer to the actual site.  That was the catch with knowing things. You knew general plot, but not exact times or locations for a lot of things.

She did her best to get to the site of the explosions as quick as possible, but when she got there, Peter was already getting dragged off by a van that seemed to be filled with weapons.

Thank the gods she'd practiced racing with Peter, otherwise, she would have been completely left behind. Chasing was not really something she was adept at.

"Spider-man!" She called after him as he was dragged down the street, cringing every time he crashed into something.

The vigilante looked to the side and saw glimpses of Nadia sprinting and portalling after him every few seconds.

She'd tire herself out quickly if she kept it up.

When a man inside the van started shooting at Peter, Nadia narrowed her eyes in determination. Not having enough time to levitate something as she kept following, she conjured a large sphere of magic in one hand before launching it forcefully at the back of the vehicle.

The car jerked roughly, most of the sphere hitting the inside wall, but some magic making contact with the man holding the weapon. It disoriented him enough to make him lose his grip on the alien gun. It tumbled out, onto the street, then into the yard of some house.

Peter continued to collide with trash cans as he was dragged on with the driver of the van steering erratically to try to shake the vigilante off.

It was then that Spider-man slammed forcefully into a small brick structure at the side of the road, forcing him to let go of the line he had connected to the van. When he tried to attach another to the back of the vehicle, the door broke off.

"Great…" he said sarcastically, putting up his arms in frustration.

Nadia appeared beside him immediately, panting slightly. "I can't keep up a chase like this. I'll find a way to get ahead and make a barricade a few streets over."

"Good plan. Okay, I'll take a short cut."

They shared a nod before they quickly went their separate ways, Peter leaping over an iron gate and Nadia once more portalling away.

The young woman had to conjure several more gateways before she put enough distance between her and the van to have enough time to start a barrier spell. The trap was just about ready when she heard Peter yell "Surprise!" as he leapt from the roof of a house. However, his voice was drowned out by the sound of what Nadia could only describe as the roar of engines.

The partially erected wall she was building dissipated as the van drove through it. She watched in horror as Peter was lifted high into the air too quickly for her to do anything but scream.

Peter struggled against the metal grip on his body, panicking at the height he was being carried to. Below him, he could barely make out the sparks of Nadia's magic as she tried to portal after him… Then, he was too far up to distinguish between the lights of the city and the signs of her sorcery.

He couldn't fly. It wasn't a power he had. Even physically enhanced, a fall from this height meant that he would be dead. There was a series of beeps coming from his suit before he was dropped headfirst. A parachute deployed just as he started falling, tangling him in the material as he fell through the air.

Helplessly, he struggled, trying desperately to untangle himself. Panicked yells and panted breaths left his mouth.

He saw glimpses of the sky, the surrounding city, the blackness of water below him. He thought he saw wild flashes of green over the lake before the parachute blinded him again.

There was some relief in his mind that he would land in water, but a part of him knew that falling from over a thousand feet high, even into water, was like landing on solid concrete.

A warmth suddenly enveloped him, accompanied by a bright green glow that lasted a few seconds. His freefall seemed to slow. The next split-second, he hit something solid, though nothing close to what he expected.

He felt his body being re-positioned in the air before there was a loud splash and he was surrounded by cold and darkness.

The plunge into the water was a shock. He struggled again to free himself from the material of the parachute, however, the task was a thousand times harder under water. Helplessness was beginning to flood him as he continued to sink.

There was another bright flash of green and for a moment, a sound similar to rushing wind met his ears before he was free of the parachute. The material was ripped to a thousand tiny shreds that were floating in pieces in the water around him. He swiped his hands around frantically to clear his field of vision.

Even though his mind was a bit foggy from the lack of air, he had enough sense in him to grab hold of the white-masked form that was being weighed down by her robes.

He held her arm tightly as they both kicked up towards the surface of the water, desperate for air.

Something dove in after them and the two would have attempted to attack on reflex if they weren't so drained. It took a moment for them to process that it was Iron Man. The hero had the two vigilantes sandwiched together, back to back in its grip as he flew over the water.

Metal hands were secured underneath Peter's armpits and Nadia was behind the teen, arms clinging around Iron Man's neck.

They were set back down on top of a dome-shaped jungle gym in what looked like a children's play area. Nadia immediately huffed and slid down to the ground, lying flat on the grass.

Peter would have panicked again, but Nadia put up one finger and groaned faintly. "Fine. Tired…"

She barely heard Peter recounting what happened, only to find out that he was talking to an empty suit.

:: You should be thanking your little trainee and the fact that this place has WiFi, otherwise, you'd be toast.::

Drifting in and out of semi-consciousness, she caught snippets of the two arguing about taking down the man with the wings, the weapons dealers, and something about college.

The suit turned to Nadia, scanning her. :: Sabrina's vitals are stable, but it looks like she conked out.::

"Wh-What?!" Peter hopped down to the ground and knelt next to where Nadia was splayed on the grass.

:: Mr. Stark is no longer connected.:: A female voice reported.

Peter jumped up, "W-Wait!" he tried as the suit turned and flew off.

His shoulders dropped, "That's awesome…" He grumbled before turning back to Nadia's sleeping form. "H-Hey, Nadia…"

"Mmmm…"

"Are you okay?" He asked, concerned. He pulled off her mask gently, noticing that the right side was cracked.

"Just… just tired." She mumbled, eyes half opening. Peter was glad to see that her hazel orbs were mostly clear.

"Can you stand?"

"Mmmm…" She hummed softly in reply, holding out a hand which the teen used to pull her into a half-sitting position.

"H-Hey, Nadia! S-Stay awake!" He raised his voice when he noticed she was leaning into him with her eyes closed again. She was still soaking wet from their fall into the lake. "We need to get you home." He whispered mostly to himself, noting how she was shivering.

Unlike him, Nadia didn't have a heater in her robes. He shook her shoulder, relieved to see that it seemed to wake her up for the moment. "Can you conjure a portal?" She nodded tiredly.

It took longer than usual and the portals sparked out twice, but the third one was stable. Stevie was barking from her living room on the other side. Peter pulled Nadia's arm over his shoulder when she didn't make a move to stand on her own.

"I can walk…" The young woman complained, though her eyes were barely open.

"Sure you can." Peter chuckled, walking slowly through the gateway, grass turning into soft carpet. It was a good thing Nadia's apartment was somewhat warm compared to the playground.

"Couch… you need to get back." She ordered as firmly as she could, feeling exhausted.

He did as directed and set her down on the sofa. The teen looked at her a bit worriedly as she leaned her head back on the couch, sighing deeply.

"Just exhausted. Swear… Few minutes…" She made a rolling motion with her hand. "Go…"

"I will, but…" He walked to her bedroom first, then her bathroom, coming back with one of her oversized shirts, flannel pants, and a large towel. He draped the shirt and pants on the back of the couch and the towel on Nadia's head, ruffling the cloth to absorb the water in her wet hair.

"Peeeeeterrr…" She slurred, putting her own hand on the towel and looking up at him with her eyebrows furrowed. "I can do it..."

He shook his head and continued drying her damp locks. Nadia gave up grumbling and just let him do as he wanted. After a minute, he stopped, pulling down part of the towel to around her shoulders. There was a pause, and they were both still. "Thanks… For-for you know… for catching me." 

Nadia only smiled softly and nodded.

"Any time. Now, I can do it." She repeated her earlier statement. "Go…" She swatted at his arm and weakly kicked the side of his leg toward the still-open portal.

Peter put his hands up in surrender, taking a few steps back. "Stevie, make sure she dries off, okay boy?" The dog barked before jumping onto the couch and nudging his mistress with his nose and paws until she sat up. Her posture was incredibly slouched, but she still managed to glare at Peter. The heat of it was dampened by her drowned look and the fluffy purple towel wrapped around her head and shoulders.

Satisfied, Peter waved, smiling, and walked back through the portal.

---

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[kaycha1989]

The Right Partner

My Hero Academia Fanfic

Characters: Katsuki Bakugou, OC

Rating: Mature

Tag List: @rageyoudamnednerd @cobblepottantrum

Chapter 12

“Scars? What are you two talking about?” Kirishima asked, looking at Bakugou who turned away with a scowl.

“I only know the little bit that Spotlight told me,” Jeanist said to Bakugou. “It seems she has begun to tell you about her past.”

“Only a little,” Bakugou replied, still scowling at the computer screen.

“Sorry, Red Riot, but it isn’t a story that is ours to share without Miss Hales’ blessing,” Jeanist explained to the sturdy hero.

“I understand,” Kirishima replied. “I need to get going anyways. I will come by your place on Saturday,” he said to Bakugou, who just grunted in response. “I will talk to ya later then,” Kirishima said as he left.

Jeanist turned back to the computer on Bakugou’s desk. “She really is beautiful, isn’t she?” Not getting a response, he continued, “Spotlight didn’t tell me much, just that she was kidnapped by villains when she was eight and was gone for seven years before she was found. He said she has scars from her experience, and prefers to keep them covered.”

“Sunshine doesn’t like to talk about it,” Bakugou replied, closing the Internet browser.

“Let her know I need to talk to her when she gets back, will you?” Jeanist said, moving towards the door.

Ignoring his employer, Bakugou decided to get ready for patrol.

Pausing at the door, Jeanist said, “I’m glad you two are getting along well. She seems to be a good partner. I’m hoping she will stay for quite some time.”

After hearing the door shut, Bakugou muttered under his breath, “Me too.”

%%%%%

Kia ran back to the agency after visiting a couple of furniture stores. It was five to three and she was hoping Bakugou hadn’t gone on patrol without her yet. Dashing through the front door, she almost collided with Nina.

“I’m sorry!” Kia exclaimed as she caught the files Nina had been carrying.

“What is the rush?” Nina asked, taking the files from her.

“I was hoping to catch Ground Zero in time for patrol,” Kia explained.

“Oh, were have you been?” Nina questioned.

“Actually, I just had an interview with the manager of that apartment complex you found for me,” Kia replied.

“Really? How did it go?” Nina asked excitedly.

“Good. The paperwork is all signed and ready to go. I even stopped by some furniture stores and got a few things. Everything will be delivered on Saturday, and I can move in then!” Kia cheered.

“Congratulations!” Nina beamed, “I’m glad it worked out so well. Did you get a chance to meet any of your neighbors?” she asked innocently.

“No, but the manager said a handsome young guy lives next door,” Kia laughed. “I better get going if I’m gonna catch B.”

“Alright, I will see you later!” Nina called out as Kia disappeared to the elevator, “Can’t wait for you to meet your handsome neighbor,” she mumbled, walking away with a big smile on her face.

%%%%%

Bakugou opened the office door to come face to face with Kia.

“Good, I made it back in time,” Kia said as she pushed past him. “I figured you would have left without me,” she said as she sat a backpack on her desk and kicked off her shoes.

“You took long enough,” Bakugou said, crossing his arms. Kia shrugged off her jacket and set it on the back of her chair before reaching down to pull off her shirt. “What are you doing?” Bakugou asked, flustered.

“Relax, B, I’ve got my costume on underneath,” Kia replied as she pulled her shirt over her head. Bakugou watched as she unbuttoned her pants and slipped them off her hips. Kia laid the clothes over her chair before reaching into her bag and pulling out her boots. Pulling them on, she fastened the buckles and put on her mask and belt. “Ready to go!” she said, turning back to her partner.

Bakugou stood there wide eyed at her impromptu strip tease. “Couldn’t you do that in the locker room?” he asked.

“Would you have waited?” Kia asked.

Shrugging, Bakugou turned and stomped out the door, thankful that his mask hid part of his face. Watching her wiggle out of her clothes made his heart beat funny and it pissed him off.

The two heroes patrolled their usual routes before moving on to more populated areas as it turned into evening. There was a lot of activity as they broke up fights at bars and stopped a random purse-snatcher or two, but no major crimes happened.

They got back to the agency at ten and started to work on the paperwork for the small crimes they stopped. It only took about an hour for them to finish the forms. Shutting down his computer, Bakugou got ready to leave for the night. He was usually the last one to leave, but Kia was still typing away at her keyboard as he opened the door.

“You’re not done yet?” Bakugou asked looking back.

“I’ve got to finish up those reports you sent me today,” Kia replied. Looking up at the clock she added, “I’m gonna wait till midnight anyway to head out. The lady that works the hotel desk till midnight is always cranky when I come in late.”

“You stay at a hotel?” Bakugou asked.

“Not for much longer. I was out looking at apartments today and I should be moving in this weekend!” Kia said. “Have a good night, B, and I will see you in the morning. I will be here at six.”

“When is the interview?” Bakugou asked.

“It looks like it starts at nine, so we will have some time to strategize.” Looking up Kia smiled at him, “I’m still going to watch some of your old interviews.”

“I don’t need any help, but knock yourself out,” Bakugou growled as he left.

%%%%%

The next morning, Bakugou walked into the office to see a cup of coffee sitting on his desk. Taking his seat, he took a sip as he turned his computer back on. He was not looking forward to the interview, and just the thought of it was already souring his mood.

Kia walked into the office carrying a small box and sat it on his desk before rolling her chair over to sit across from him. Pulling a muffin out of the box, she bit into it as she sat down.

“Does my desk look like a damn breakfast table to you?” Bakugou asked.

Rolling her eyes, she swallowed before taking a sip of her own coffee and setting it on the desk. “Just drink your coffee,” she replied, offering him a muffin. Bakugou raised a brow at her before reaching in and grabbing one. “I watched some of your interviews last night, and I think I have a plan,” Kia told him.

“Oh, yeah?” Bakugou said sarcastically before taking a bite out of his muffin.

“As I thought, you either run out of patience with a bad reporter or they try to make you lose your temper,” Kia said, ignoring his bad attitude.

“I told you I don’t need any help, damn it!” Bakugou snapped.

“Take it easy, all I have to do is run interference,” Kia said. “With two of us there, they can’t badger you.”

Bakugou sat back in his chair while eyeing his partner. She met his gaze while taking another sip of her coffee. “Besides, you aren’t the only one who has problems with reporters,” she said, looking away.

“Really? I figured you would be one that reporters would fall head over heels for,” Bakugou chided.

“Yeah, and for the most part I don’t have any issues as long as they don’t start getting too personal,” Kia replied. “Sometimes a reporter gets wind of my past and starts asking a lot of questions I don’t want to answer. Those interviews never go well.”

 Bakugou saw how uncomfortable Kia was getting just from bringing the subject up. “Alright, so if they start I will just interrupt them,” he told her.

Surprised, Kia’s head snapped back up to look at Bakugou. “Thanks, B, I really appreciate it. You know, you should show this nice side of you more often,” Kia teased.

“Fuck that,” Bakugou barked, stretching his arms and putting his hands behind his head as Kia laughed.

At eight, they both got into their costumes and made their way over to the magazine’s office building. It was a little ways away from the agency, so they took Bakugou’s motorcycle. They arrived at 8:45 and were greeted as soon as they walked through the doors.

“Mr. Ground Zero, Ms. Wildside,” the receptionist bowed. “I will let Mr. Yakimura know you have arrived. Please take a seat in the waiting area,” she said as she picked up the phone.

Bakugou and Kia made their way over and sat in two seats facing away from the reception desk. Kia opened one of the pockets on her belt and took out a pair of ear buds before inserting them in her ears. Bakugou looked over at his partner and wished he had thought to bring his own. Kia noticed him looking at her and took her phone out of the pocket. Setting it on her lap, she offered him the left ear bud. Bakugou hesitated not wanting to have to listen to some girly music.

“Don’t worry, I won’t play anything too sappy,” Kia said, handing him the ear bud.

Bakugou took it from her and placed it in his ear. He was surprised to hear American alternative rock playing. Kia handed him the phone. “My taste in music is very eclectic, so you will find pretty much anything in my playlist.”

Pulling off his glove and gauntlet, Bakugou took the phone from her. Kia grabbed his gauntlet and held it on her lap as she scooted closer to look at the phone with him. Bakugou scrolled through her songs, asking a couple questions about different titles as they listened to music together.

Twenty minutes, later Kia was just pointing to one of her favorite songs when they heard a clicking sound behind them. Turning around the two heroes saw three people standing there, looking at them. One was holding up a camera, another had on a suit, and the third was the receptionist. Standing up, Bakugou handed Kia back her phone and ear bud as she gave him back his gauntlet.

“Hello, Ground Zero and Wildside. Thank you so much for agreeing to come here today,.” The man in the suit stepped forward while handing them his business card with a bow. Nodding slightly, Bakugou took the card from the man.

“Thanks for asking us to come, Mr. Yakimura” Kia smiled and bowed slightly.

“Please, call me Ryuski,” the man said. “This is our photographer, Kenji. Well, why don’t we head to the studio and take some photos?”

Bakugou and Kia followed Ryuski and Kenji to a photo studio where a crew was setting up a backdrop and lights. Ryuski lead them over to a set of chairs where a makeup crew was waiting.

Bakugou hated this part of photo shoots. He understood that they wanted to make sure the photos turned out good, but he didn’t like anyone messing with his hair, especially since his internship with Jeanist his first year of high school. Every now and then, the older hero still tried to tame his ash blonde spikes.

Kia walked over to one of the stools and sat down so the stylists could get started. She looked as uncomfortable as Bakugou felt, which he found weird since she was supposed to be a model and singer. Taking the stool next to her, he tried not to fidget as the stylist started on his hair.

Ryuski sat down on a stool across from them pulling out a small recorder and an iPad. Looking up at the two heroes he started the interview.

“So, how long have you two been partners?” Ryuski asked.

“It’s been only a couple of weeks now,” Kia answered.

Ryuski scribbled on his notepad before continuing. “How has the partnership been going? Ground Zero has a bit of a reputation for running off all his partners,” he asked Kia.

Wow they aren’t wasting anytime, Kia thought before she answered, “It has been going well, I think. We have had our ups and downs, but that is normal.”

“And what do you think, Ground Zero?” Ryuski asked, turning towards him.

“Yeah,” Bakugou grunted closing his hands into fists.

Realizing that was the only answer he was going to get from the hero, Ryuski turned back towards Kia. “So, you are from America, is that correct?”

“Yes,” Kia replied with a smile.

“These next questions are for the both of you, so if you could both please answer I would appreciate it,” Ryuski told them. “How old are you?”

“21,” they both answered.

“When is your birthday, and what is your blood types?” Ryuski continued.

“December 20th and A+,” Kia answered.

“April 20th and A,” Bakugou grumbled.

“What is your favorite color?” Ryuski asked the next question.

“Purple,” Kia answered.

“Do we have to do these stupid questions?” Bakugou asked.

“Come on, it isn’t going to kill us.” Kia rolled her eyes at her partner.

“Tch, Black,” Bakugou huffed.

“What kind of food do you like?” Ryuski asked them.

“Spicy,” they answered together.

“Alright, I think that is all for the basic questions. Now we will go into some more personal questions.” Ryuski said. “Do either of you have a boyfriend/girlfriend, or are you dating each other?” he asked.

Bakugou almost fell off his stool at the direct question. Kia recovered first and answered, “Uhm, no and no. I’ve only been here for a couple weeks.”

“What about you, Ground Zero?” Ryuski turned to the flustered hero.

“No!” Bakugou snapped.

Turning back to Kia, Ryuski continued the interview. “So, what brought you to Japan?”

“I’m really interested becoming an international hero and work in areas of international crime,” Kia replied.

“International crime? What all does that include?” Ryuski asked, scribbling in his notebook.

“One area I helped work on in America is human trafficking. There is a lot more of it than people realize. There are organizations that kidnap people because of the kind of quirks they have. Some organizations are very discreet and hard to track down. Before I came to Japan, I was part of a group that uncovered and brought down one of the top human trafficking rings in America,” Kia answered.

Bakugou listen intently to what Kia was saying, not only interested in the info on international crime, but also interested in learning more about his partner.

“Wow, do you think there are such crime rings in Japan?” Ryuski asked, scribbling furiously.

“I know there is,” Kia replied.  The whole room froze at Kia’s declaration, including Bakugou.

“Do you have any tips for citizens on how to keep from being a victim? What are the target groups of these human traffickers?” Ryuski recovered.

“The target groups are mainly children, but there are reports of people being taken up to the age of 45 depending on their physical condition and quirk type. Everyone should be on the lookout for suspicious behaviors in their neighborhoods. An example is blacked out vehicles that are seen parked in suspicious places, or strange people asking too many questions. Especially strangers that approach children to ask questions, instead of talking to an adult,” Kia explained.

“Let’s move on to a different topic, shall we?” Ryuski said looking back over his notebook.

Bakugou sat there staring at his partner while remembering something they had been talking about the other day.

‘How long did they have you?’

‘Seven years’

The blank spots of information about his partner were filling in. Before he had time to think on it, Ryuski was asking him more questions.

“What is it like having an American for a partner?” Ryuski asked him.

“Fine. She stays out of my way and does her job,” Bakugou replied.

Raising an eyebrow at his response, Ryuski turned back to Kia. “What about you? Do you think it will be difficult to gain popularity while being partnered with a hero like Ground Zero?” he asked her.

“I’m not sure what you mean?” Kia replied confused.

“Ground Zero is well known for his inability to cooperate and his hot temper. Many believe he could very well turn sides, especially with the incidents in his past,” Ryuski said unashamed.

Bakugou’s temper went from a simmer to boiling over in less than a second. He made a move to stand up when Kia placed her hand on his arm and stood up herself instead. Bakugou had made her mad enough times to know that her smile was forced, and that she was pissed.

“I don’t know where you get off making accusations like that, sir. Ground Zero is an exceptional hero. Not only is he skilled in fighting villains with his explosions, he can do so without causing any collateral damage. I have looked through his arrest records, and he has never failed to capture a villain once he arrived on the scene. The citizens on our patrol routes all love him and will tell you how kind he truly is under that fierce scowl. He diligently protects everyone in our district and misses nothing when on patrol. He stays later than anyone at the agency and is undeniably working hard to be the number one hero. Anyone who says otherwise hasn’t taken two seconds to truly see the amazing hero he is becoming,” Kia stated her fake smile still plastered on her face as Ryuski cowered under her gaze.

Stunned, Bakugou could only gawk at his partner’s defense on his behalf. He couldn’t believe what she had said. They had only been partners for a couple of weeks, yet she believed in him that much. He started feeling bad about the vague response he had given about her.

Kia sat back down on her stool, taking a deep breath as she schooled her expression into her bright smile once again.

Clearing his throat, Ryuski flipped a page in his notebook. “Well, why don’t we continue with the interview then, shall we?”

Bakugou continued to stare at his partner. He couldn’t help but think how amazing a partner she truly was.

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11

Ch 12 | Ch 13 | Ch 14 | Ch 15 | Ch 16 | Ch 17 | Ch 18 | Ch 19 | Ch 20

[royalhufflepuff-blog]

Rescue Mission (Part One)

Warnings: kidnapping; a bit of blood but nothing graphic. No blood until next chapter!

Ship: Royality, background Analogical

Hope you enjoy!

“Come on, you guys! It will be fun!” Roman said, standing in front of the other three. They were currently eating pizza, but then Roman just HAD to have them do what he wanted right then. “I do not think this is a good idea.” Logan said, adjusting his glasses and reaching for another slice. Roman was trying to get them to go into the Dream World (aka Imagination) with him to explore and have fun.

“I agree with Logan. You’re always talking about all the scary things that happen in the imagination.” Virgil said, taking a bite of pizza. “I think this will be loads of fun! We can go after dinner if you guys want?” Patton said, smiling at the other two. Virgil groaned, “Fine. But I’m not going to enjoy myself.” Virgil finally gave in, causing Roman to clap his hands together.

“Great! Now Logan has to go because you’re going. Now, when you’re done, go get ready!” Roman yelled before prancing out of the room. Logan sighed, “This is not how I wanted my day to go.”

————————————————————————

“Alright Roman, we’ve been wandering for 30 minutes. What do you think is going to happen?” Virgil groaned, trudging behind everyone else. “We are off to my castle! It should not be far, and then when we get there we can dress up for our characters!” Logan raised an eyebrow, “Our characters?” Roman simply didn’t say anything.

When they finally got to the castle, Virgil flopped himself down into the closest chair and pulled out his phone. Roman walked up and took it from him, “Sorry Virge, but we are dressing up now!” Virgil didn’t have the energy to grab for his phone after that. Roman snapped his fingers, and suddenly a chest appeared in the center of the room.

“Logan, the first outfit goes to you! You will be the Royal Librarian/Astronomer!” Roman threw an outfit at Logan who quickly caught it, before snapping his fingers and putting it on. “It is not the worst outfit I have seen.” Logan said, adjusting the sleeves. “And then our next outfit goes to Virgil!” Roman threw an outfit at Virgil, who didn’t even make an effort to catch it. Logan snapped his fingers which changed Virgil’s outfit for him.

“Virgil, you are our messenger! You deliver any important news to us if there is any. When you aren’t doing that, you can just wander around the castle.” Virgil took one look at his outfit, “I hate it. I don’t wanna play.” “Too late, hot topic.” Roman said before turning back to the chest and digging out two more outfits. One of the outfits was Roman’s usual attire, except with a crown now. The crown had red jewels.

The other outfit was a prince’s outfit with a blue sash and blue jewels on the crown. Roman handed the outfit and crown to Patton, causing Virgil and Logan to look at them with puzzled looks. “No fair! Why does Patton get a higher rank than us?”

Patton snapped his fingers, and admired the outfit and crown on his head, smiling brightly at the others. “Wouldn’t it make more sense if my boyfriend was the prince I will soon marry?” Roman said, grabbing Patton’s hand and pulling him close. “But if Patton was a prince too, wouldn’t that make you two brothers?” Logan asked, frowning.

“Well you see, in the story, Patton’s parents are from another kingdom. And Patton and I aren’t related one bit.” Roman explained, adjusting the crooked crown on Patton’s head. “So is that it? We pretend to do these jobs for a day?” Virgil asked, rolling his eyes.

“Sort of. There will be a story better than that, and I think you all will enjoy seeing me destroy the- well, better not spoil it for you all. Now, let me show you to your rooms! But before I forget, we all will have different last names. Patton’s will be Foster, Logan’s will be Berry, and Virgil’s will be Sanders. Mine is Knight! Now let’s go!”

Roman walked happily to two large wooden doors. He pushed them open and inside was the biggest library Logan had ever seen. The shelves couldn’t possibly hold another book, and if you look up there’s a chart with all of the starts and planets.

“This is-“ “Incredible?” Roman finished for him, letting Logan wander around. “There’s even a telescope by the window for tonight if you get bored!” Logan smiled, looking back at the other sides. “I do hope you enjoy this Logan! And now, let’s go to Virgil’s room! Logan, you may stay here if you’d like.” Roman said before leading the other two away from the library.

They walked up a few sets of stairs before walking into a rather dark room that smelt like ink and parchment. “This is your room, Virgil!” Virgil walked around the room, enjoying how quiet it was when nobody was talking. The room was lit with a few candles, and it was just the right amount of dark. It wasn’t as great as Logan’s new library, but he liked his room just how it was. Small and cozy.

”I surprisingly like it. I still can’t wait for this whole thing to be over though.” Virgil said, sitting on the bed. Roman thought for a moment before snapping his fingers together. Suddenly, a black cat appeared right next to Virgil on the bed, causing a smile to appear slightly on Virgil’s face.

“You can name her whatever you’d like, Virge. I recommend you get some rest though, for tomorrow will be a day full of adventure!” Roman said enthusiastically before walking out the door. Patton trailed behind, curiosity eating at him. “What’s my room like? Do I get a cat, too?” Patton asked, smiling brightly.

”I’m sorry dear, but you are allergic to cats. I could get you a puppy though?” Roman offered. Patton thought for a moment before shaking his head. “If we’re going to go on adventures tomorrow, then I won’t have time to take care of the dog.” Roman nodded before stopping in front of fancy looking doors.

”And finally, your room!” Roman pushed open the doors, and moved out of the way so Patton could get a good look at it. The room had a huge white bed with blue blankets on top. There was a table in the corner, and right next to the table hanging up on the wall was a huge mirror. There was also a balcony to the left of the bed, and a huge closet to the right of it.

Patton leaped up onto the bed, causing his crown to go crooked again. Roman chuckled before leaning in and giving Patton a kiss goodnight. “Goodnight, Roman!” “Goodnight, Love. Tomorrow shall be a glorious day!”

————————————————————————

The second the Sides woke up, the story started. Roman leaped up, excited to see the story play out for them that day. He had let Thomas know what was up so that he wouldn’t be worried. Roman threw on his outfit and checked himself out in the mirror quickly before running out the door and past his parents bedroom, making sure to make as much noise as possible to wake them up.

Patton woke up to someone knocking on his door, and in walked a man in all black and a super fancy gold crown on his head.

“Hello, son! Today is the big day! You must get ready for this afternoon at once!” The man then left as quickly as he came. “So that’s my dad, huh?” Patton got up and changed into his Prince outfit, and made sure his crown wasn’t crooked.

Logan has already been awake before everyone else. He wanted to get started on a few books before he had to leave for breakfast. He had been reading up on some Astronomy (and maybe a bit of Sherlock Holmes), when someone ran into the library. “It is time for the first meal of the day! Hurry and get ready! The Fosters will be waiting!” The small man yelled before running back out. “Who the heck was that?” Logan asked himself before marking his page number.

Virgil woke up to a dang rooster. Virgil cursed under his breath at Roman for putting his room right next to the animal coop. Virgil got up and put on his eyeshadow as he did everyday. He snapped his fingers to put on his outfit, and then lazily stood up. He pet his cat, gave her some food and then trudged out of the room to breakfast. He saw something red running towards him quickly, and turned to see Roman almost collide with him.

”Sorry, hot topic! Almost didn’t see you! Right after breakfast, I have something for you to do. I will tell you in a bit!” Roman yelled before running off to the dining hall. Virgil followed slowly, making sure to take forever. When he entered, Logan was already there, and Roman was just settling down by himself. Two adults entered the room with elegant crowns on their heads. “Why Roman, you didn’t have to wake us like that, now did you?” The woman said.

Virgil sat down next to Logan, “Are those Roman’s parents?” Logan nodded, before handing Virgil a muffin. Virgil mumbled a ‘thanks’ and quietly began to eat. Two more adults entered the room, followed quickly by Patton. Roman’s dad stood up, smiling brightly. “Long time no see, old friend! Come, sit down!” Roman’s dad led the Foster parents over to the other side of the table, so Patton was directly across from Virgil and Logan.

Patton was smiling brightly like always. Food was quickly set on the table after that, and the four sides ate quietly while the adults ate and talked loudly. They seemed to be boasting about their kids. “May I be excused?” Patton asked his parents. “Why, of course, Patton.” His mother said, and Patton stood up and quietly walked into the library.

Logan and Virgil quickly followed, and Roman began coming up with excuses so he could follow as well. “So? How do you all like it so far?” Virgil scoffed, “Stupid rooster woke me up, and I can’t wait until we go home tomorrow.” “I have enjoyed myself in the library. It has been very educational.” Logan said. “I haven’t had much fun, but it’s gonna get better!” Patton said cheerfully.

“Great! And Virgil, I need you to go walk around the castle and see if there is any mail.” Virgil groaned, “No more walking!” Roman thought for a moment, “Would it help if Logan went with you?” Logan and Virgil traded looks before Virgil finally nodded. “Great! We will see you in a little bit then!” Roman said before turning around, holding Patton’s hand. “Bye guys!” Patton yelled before walking out of the room.

”Alright, let’s get this over with.” Virgil said before walking out of the library with Logan. Logan spotted the small man again in the hallway, and stopped him. “Excuse me, but where do we fetch the mail?” The man gave the two a confused look, “At the end of the road like it always is.” The man then walked away.

Logan began walking towards the front of the castle, Virgil slowly trailing behind. “Why is the road so long?” Virgil asked right when they stepped outside. It was at least a mile long, and you have to walk downhill. Walking back to the castle was going to be the worst part.

The two began walking down the hill again, enjoying the nice peace and quiet. “I wanna go home, Logan. Why did he give us the worst jobs?” Logan adjusted his glasses, “I have no clue. I do want to go home as well, but I also want to know if I am allowed to come back here for the library. That is the only part I am okay with.” He explained.

”The only good part about this for me is my cat. That’s it.” After about 20 more minutes of walking, they finally reached the bottom of the hill. Virgil bent down to grab the piece of parchment, but hesitated when he heard footsteps in the grass nearby. Virgil quickly picked up the parchment and stuffed it in his bag, looking around to see where the footsteps were coming from.

Suddenly, a woman popped out from a tall bush, looking rather confused. “Excuse me, you two. Is this the Knight Kingdom?” Virgil frowned suspiciously, but Logan didn’t see any harm in telling. “Yes, it is. Who are you? Are you here for the dance tonight?” The woman’s eyes lit up happily, “Oh, so the Foster family is here now? Nice young boy, that prince. Patton Foster.” By now Logan was a bit suspicious as well.

“You never answered my question. Who are you?” Logan asked, pushing Virgil behind him slightly. The woman smiled, and her eyes changed into a bright red color. Her teeth became pointy and gross looking, and she suddenly sprouted wings. “Dragon Witch!” Virgil yelled, before Logan grabbed his hand and started running off towards the castle. The Dragon Witch took flight, and flew fast towards the castle.

“We are not fast enough!” Logan yelled. “But we have to warn them!” Virgil yelled back, but before they were to the top of the hill, a loud boom echoed the ground. The two ran to the top of the hill, and looked at the huge hole in the castle front in shock and worry.

————————————————————————

Roman and Patton were sitting together, happily chatting away while their parents made sure everything was in order before the dance. “Are we going to wear these outfits, or are there special fancy ones for us?” Patton asked, playing with his sleeves.

“There are special outfits indeed! And some for Virgil and Logan, too. I can show them whenever they get back to the castle.” Roman said, pulling out a watch and checking the time. 11:38 A.M. “They should be back in a few minutes. Until then, how about we go check out our outfits for tonight?” Patton nodded excitedly, watching as Roman leaped up and struck a dramatic pose.

Right before they could walk up the stairs, a loud boom echoed from the front of the castle. The explosion caused Roman and Patton to fall to the ground, Roman holding Patton close so debris wouldn’t hurt him. Roman stood up and pulled out his sword, trying to see what caused the explosion past the dust.

Roman gasped, before squinting his eyes and readying his sword. “You. Why have you returned?” The Dragon Witch laughed evilly, walking towards Roman threatingly. “You made a mistake, bringing your friends in here.” She glanced down at Patton, who was staring up at her with wide, frightened eyes.

Roman caught her glance and stepped in front of Patton protectively, “You don’t touch him.” She laughed again, before spreading her wings out again. “You don’t really have a say in that.” She flew towards the two of them and gracefully dodged the sword swung at her chest. She landed, and that’s when she turned into a whole dragon.

She flew up, causing a strong gust of wind to flow through the room. “Patton, run!” Roman yelled, trying to keep his balance. Patton looked around before heading towards the stairs. The dragon spotted him running up, and flew after him. Patton ran through the halls, and she struggled to keep up due to her size.

Right before Patton could run to a safer room, something grabbed the back of his shirt. He felt himself getting lifted up, and before he could look or struggle, something heavy hit the side of his head, knocking him out. The dragon turned back into a half woman, and she smiled evilly at the boy unconscious in her arms.

”Let him go!” Roman yelled, sword out and pointed towards the Dragon Witch. She smirked, “Oh, why I’m afraid we both have to go now.” She then turned back into a full dragon, and caused another explosion to break down the wall in front of her. She then flew away through the hole, Patton held close to her chest.

The second blast had knocked Roman down, and when he got up, he stared in sorrow. He started coughing, and he angrily punched the wall. Roman grabbed his sword and walked down the stairs, looking over to see Logan and Virgil standing at the front of the castle, shocked expressions stuck on their face.

What do they do now?

[lolabean1998]

Avengers Fanfic - 3rd Super Soldier (Part 8)

Bucky's POV!

"You've been staring out that window for over an hour now sugar, what's troubling ya?" A large woman with warm eyes and brunette hair asked.

"Just thinking is all, thanks Maggie." I replied to the woman as she poured yet another cup of coffee.  It hurt that you'd left, I felt as though my heart had been torn apart. I was in agony.

"Loki said we'd find you here. What you looking at Buck?" Steve asked as he sat down beside me whilst Banner and Tony sat opposite them.

"Top floor second window on the right." I replied shortly, eyes fixed on the window. Steve having super human eyesight as well moved his gaze to the window I had directed him to, watching intently as a figure moved back and forth past the window. He was just about to call it wishful thinking when the petite figure moved past the window carrying what appeared to be a large wardrobe.

"Is it her?" Tony asked when Steves eyes flew open. "Steve what did you see?"

"She's up there, moving stuff around. Buck how'd you find her?" Steve asked curiously, Tony and Banner had searched the whole room for clues only turning up a newspaper, that also had nothing.

"The newspaper." I replied, his gaze still fixed on the window, my voice sad and low.

"We searched it, there was nothing on it." Banner gasped irritated that he had missed something.

"Invisible ink, you weren't meant to see anything. She made a deal with the landlord, she gets to stay there if she does up the top floor. Got a job a a private courier and is returning the clothes we bought her s soon as she can afford her own." I reported, ignoring the disbelieving faces opposite him.

"So you're telling me that if i had just scanned the paper like i was going to I'd have found her without going through all of this." Tony ranted throwing his hands about gesturing to the situation at hand.

"No, she wrote it in a code,a code she made up when we were kids." I had to take a deep breath to steady his voice when he spoke about the code. She may not remember me and Steve but she remembered something. Something's better than nothing. It's a start. I thought moving my attention to the group. "We should go, she kept it a secret for a reason. She doesn't want us around."

"She chose this place for a reason Buck. The whole of New York to choose from and the only place willing to make a deal just happens to be opposite our favourite diner. The place you always come when things are getting too much at the compound." Steve reasoned, he knew how much I was hurting but he also knew how much you were hurting. You wanted to bury yourself in work to drown out the flashes and emotions tearing you apart inside. You never were one for emotions that weren't bubbling giggles or furious rage, dipping a toe in sympathy when absolutely necessary.

"I won't ask again Steve. Leave her be, it's what she want's." I snarled flashing cold Winter Soldier eyes at the group, smirking to myself when the quickly scurried outside without a word. Works every time.

Your POV!

It had been almost a month since you'd left the compound and after working day and night, the apartments you had been fixing up were almost complete. You had spent your days running around the city delivering parcels and important letters to rich people and gang members. Spending your nights working on the apartments, you had torn out everything from each one deciding it was easier to start from scratch. After a final lick of paint the whole floor was transformed from back end motel to four star apartments. The landlord had been so impressed with it he had offered to let you stay for free if you did the rest of the building. The look of surprise on his face when he saw your petite figure carrying heavy loads, working harder and faster than a team of builders and contractors.

You were just about to jump in the shower to wash off the paint spotted across your face when there was a hesitant knock at the door. The fuck does he want now? I'm already redoing the whole fucking building. You grumbled to yourself as you strolled past your new, modern day open kitchen towards the heavy oak door. "Coming Mr O'Malley!" You called to the door as it knocked again. "What's up Mr O'Mall-" You were cut off when you opened the door to see Nat and Wanda instead. "You're not Mr O'Malley. You're not Mr O'Malley at all." You stated feeling a little confused. "You guys look like shit come in. Just made a pot of coffee so help yourselves and Maggie dropped off some blueberry muffins earlier so tuck in." You offered leading the inside, smiling as the two girls grabbed a muffin and filled two large mugs to the brim with fresh coffee. "What's up guys?" You chirped hopping onto the counter top.

"What's up guys?" They mocked snarkily, glaring at you with daggered eyes.

"Hey don't give me that, i gave the clothes back and started paying back the money it cost to house me." You said defensively, holding your hands up in surrender.

"I'm gonna kill her." Wanda grumbled after a large swig of coffee, sending your eyebrows into a worried and confused frown.

"We don't care about the clothes or the money! We care that you left!" Nat snapped, rolling her eyes at your dumbfounded expression.

"More specifically, we care that you left without HIM!" Wanda continued setting her mug on the counter before her shaking hands spilled it all over the nice white tiles.

"What the fuck are you two on about?" You demanded looking at the dark circles around their eyes and their peculiar body language.

"BARNES!" The pair shouted in chorus making you jump and spill your coffee, luckily it only went on your shirt which was already covered in dirty and paint.

"His nightmares are getting worse and since he's stopped bothering to even attempt sleep he's been even more grumpy than usual." Wanda explained, her voice shaking with exhaustion and a strange blend of anger.

"It's making training impossible, none of us can keep up with him. He looks like hell and his temper is even worse!" Nat finished through a mouthful of blueberry muffin.

"Why you telling me? Go run to Steve or someone. Now if you don't mind, i have to jump in the shower quickly before work so if you could the door on your way out that'd be great." You snarled, giving them a snarky smile as you strolled into the bathroom slamming the door once you were in. You quickly stripped and stepped under the powerful jets of water.

After a quick shower you threw on a pair of black jeans matched with a baggy blue t-shirt and your favourite navy blue combat boots. They were the only thing you refused to return. Your turned the corner to the small courier service shop to pick up your load for the day.

"Y/N my darling how good to see you!" A thick, joyful Italian accent hit you as you entered through the back, you gave a bubbly chuckle at the large man who strode towards you with open arms, groaning as they wrapped around you squeezing you into a hug.

"You saw me less than thriteen hours ago what do you want Anthony?" You groaned with a pained chuckle. The large man placed you back on the ground releasing you from his death grip before stepping back to grab a large rucksack filled to the brim.

"Vincent couldn't make it in today, got into a bar fight with some guy and the guy broke his jaw. Said something about his lack of respect." Anthony replied shaking his head, neither of you were surprised the kid had a reputation.

"Doesn't surprise me, Vinnie's always getting into shit. Didn't think he had such a weak chin though. Must've been some fight." You mused swinging the heavy rucksack onto your back and jumping on the steel blue bike in the corner, for some reason the colour of it gave you strange sense of security.

"You never fail to impress. Even I'd struggle with that bag but you? You just swinging it on like its any other round. Here's you list of drop offs and you're pay from last week as you asked and if you're done before three we have another set of VIP drop offs if you're up for the challenge." Anthony smiled at you before turning to walk back to the shop front.

"See you at three!" You called confidently pulling your mask and sunglasses over your face, clipping the buckle of your helmet up before heading out. Your headphones blasted with 1940's swing music as you whipped through the city, dropping off parcels and letters left right and centre. Fuck me i hate stairs! You grumbled to yourself as you tore your way up the stairs of a very prestigious feeling skyscraper, fighting your way to the top floor. You were faster than the elevator and you needed to shave as many seconds off your time as possible if you were to make it by three. You flew round the corner, past the elevators, through the woman at the front desk as she protested against you before crashing through the door to the delivery point. A tall grey haired man wearing a suit worth more than the building you lived shot up from his desk giving you a disgusted look as you shoved a form towards him for him to sign before placing the parcel carefully on the desk in front.

"Parcel is delivered and in one piece. Sign so i can get on with my round I'm on a tight schedule!" You breathed clutching your rib cage as you spoke, giving the man a bone shattering glare when he refused to speed up. "You have two seconds before i take it to your wife and tell her who it's from." You snapped grinning when the man immediately scribbled on the dotted line thrusting the paper back at you. "Can't believe that actually worked, BYEEE!" You chirped mischievously, bolting back towards the stairway and jumping down the stairs like your life depended on it.

The rest of your round went by rather smoothly, a few almost collisions with taxi's and trucks but other than that it was a breeze. You skidded to halt outside the shop with minutes to spare. Damn I've been slacking! You thought as you looked down at you're watching, you had found it outside your door a few days after you had moved out with a note attached to it say 'A good bye gift from a Captain and a Sergeant'.

"I told you she'd make it! She is the fastest courier New York has ever seen!" Anthony's thick Italian accent boomed through the shop as he strolled out to greet you, a hooded figure following close behind. "Y/N this is Mr Barton, he has a very important message to deliver and requires my best and brightest courier. I'll leave you too it." With that he gave you both an abrupt nod and headed back inside.

"You're not even trying to hide who you are so take the hood down. What are you, some high school drop out gangsta with a black eye and stash of weed? Come on man you can do better than that! What do you want?" You questioned feeling more and more annoyed by the minute, this was the second time today an Avenger had shown up. The figure dropped the hood revealing their face. "Barton! What a surprise, the was me thinking it was the hulk." You mocked rolling your eyes, arms folded as you lent against your pedal bike.

"You don't even care do you? Do you have a heart at all? Or do you just enjoy making other people suffer!" He snapped aggressively, taking you by surprise. This was a side of Barton you never thought existed.

"The fuck are you talking about?" You snarled in response, whatever was going on had nothing to do with you.

"I'm talking about leaving without saying good bye, shutting us out. Shutting your FRIENDS out! Shutting Barnes out and then when Wanda and Nat show up at your door you boot them out! Not even batting an eye to what they told you about you're friend! What happened? Did you get bored of toying with his emotions? Or maybe it's even worse, Maybe this is all part of your plan. No wonder you stayed with H.Y.D.R.A. for so long. You weren't a prisoner at all, you were part of them. One of the crew. Hell I wouldn't be surprised if you were one the ones torturing him. Even if you weren't YOU SURE A SHIT ARE NOW!" Barton bellowed, his voice echoed through the alleyway you were standing in. Your eyes went cold and you felt the hairs on your neck stand on end. He had crossed a line.

"You think I don't know what he's been through? You think i don't remember screaming until my vocal cords broke, begging them to stop. You think i don't know there's something going on? The way Bucky just HAPPENED to know my favourite food or how Steve saw right through me? How about how Bucky knew every one of my moves? And then all of a sudden not only am i the freak with super human abilities but I'm also the freak the can switch species! I have no idea who I am, no memory of who i was and to make things worse, no idea who they were to me. I don't want them to hold onto the hope that I'll be back to who I was because I don't want to let them down. Now piss off before your wife becomes a widow!" You roared viciously, your eyes were as cold as ice and your body was trembling with rage.

"Stand down little girl, i didn't come alone." Barton warned just as Vision and Rhodes landed beside him. You raised an amused eyebrow. "We aren't done yet." He snapped taking a step towards you.

"You were warned." You sighed dodging Barton and crashing your fist into Visions shiny little gem sending him flying back into the traffic and colliding with the front of a bus. Problem one is gone, can't be doing with super powers. You muttered to yourself as you grabbed Barton’s shoulder swinging him into Rhodes and leaping on your bike the second you a the chance. Can't fight in the city, too many people but there’s an abandoned building not far from her. That'll do. You peddle faster than you had all day as you thought up a plan, checking behind you to make sure they were still following. No sign of Vision FUCK! He's gone for back up! You cursed zooming through traffic towards the huge industrial site a few miles away. No no there he is. So they're going against orders. You figured knowing that if that had happened on a mission Vision would've gone for reinforcements.

"Give it up kid, there's no where to go!" Rhodes called from above as you skidded to a halt having arrived at your destination.

"Jokes on you. I planned to be here." You shouted before bouncing yourself off a nearby wall and leaping into the air grabbing Rhodes' foot. Climbing up before he had a chance to shake you, tearing off the excess guns and weapons as you went. An arrow pierced through your calf as you tore out a handful of important looking cables, gripping on tight when the suit dropped. "I take it they were important." You quipped pulling the arrow from your leg. The sight of bloody arrow triggered something deep inside you. Your eyes flipped losing any sign of life and your posture became more threatening, your eyes washing over Barton and Vision with blood thirst.

"That doesn't look good." Barton pointed out readying his arrow. You charged towards him dodging arrow after arrow as he fired rapidly in an attempt to survive. You caught site of Vision closing in and threw an arrow in his direction watching as it tore through his abdomen. Turning your attention back to Barton you swung yourself underneath and onto his shoulders before hurtling forwards and slamming him to the ground. The unmistakable sound of snapping bones rang out loud and clear as you twisted his arms behind him, disabling his ability to fire or fight. Standing up you pulled his right leg up kicking in his knee, nodding in approval as the joint popped out of place before twisting it slightly so he couldn’t pop it back in. Your eyes flicked over to Rhodes who was still froze on the floor, by the looks of things his suit had malfunctioned trapping him inside. The only threat left was Vision and with one smooth swoop you grabbed three large arrows from Barton’s side launching them towards Vision. The each plummeted into his chest and stomach dropping him onto his back, a pool of blood rapidly forming around him.

"Woah easy there Tiger" Tony called, his Iron Man shining in the afternoon sun. "I'm here to help you." He tried but you weren't having any of it, grabbing a brick from nearby and hurtling it towards him, snarling when he dodged it.

"Woah take it easy Y/N." The voice from behind you hitting you like a wave. The voice was soon followed by cautious foots steps inching there way closer, you tried desperately to turn to face your attacker but you body was frozen solid. The harder you tried to move the more pain shot through you and it was only when a warm arm wrapped around you pulling you in tight that you realised you had been screaming. "Easy doll, it's ok it's Bucky." The smell of his cologne mixed his natural scent intoxicated you, some how pulling out of the abyss you had fallen into. Your body collapsed in his arms as your mind began whirling.

"She ok? You got her?" Tony called landing beside Rhodes and leaning over to free him from the suit.

"Yeah, I'm going to take her back to her place. You good here?" Bucky asked lifting you into his arms.

"Yeah Nat's on her way with Wanda and the quinjet. I told them to leave her be, to leave it be. It's their own fault." Tony sighed pulling the arrows from Vision, chuckling as the holes in his chest and stomach began closing up almost immediately.

Bucky placed you carefully on the sofa wrapping a small blanket around you. He took a moment to explore your apartment, admiring your handy work as he inspected the kitchen. He had done a full tour of your small apartment and had yet to find any evidence that you had slept at all that month, the bedroom was empty holding nothing but a large wardrobe and a mirror. The floor however was littered with sketches and drawings, some were sketches of the team but most of them were images from her past, violent and dark and filled with horror. Images of the memory wiping, savage training, brutal torture and hooded figures. This is what she did instead of sleeping, she drew her nightmares. Bucky wandered around the room to get a better look at some of the drawings without stepping on any when a floor board let out an angry squeak. You've done this whole place to perfection but didn't change a squeaky floor board? I don't buy it. Bucky thought as he knelt down to investigate further pulling up the vocal floor board which was surprisingly easy to do. What he found inside brought tears to his eyes, stashed beneath the floor board was a small stash of sketches, all with one thing in common. Him. He slid down the wall, sketches in hand and began looking through them, taking great care in handling them. There were sketches of Steve's birthday, dancing in the bar, playing in the park and playing ball. Each sketch was done carefully with each and every detail added in, the total opposite to the rest of your drawings. Tears began trickling down his cheek as he stared at the small array of pictures, each with three happy smiling faces beaming up at him.

"You know it's rude to go through other peoples stuff." A croaky and hoarse voice muttered from the doorway. Bucky's head shot up, a sad smile pressed against his lips no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

"There's supposed to be a bed in here. You're supposed to sleep." He stammered, trying to muffle the sorrow in his voice.

"I don't think that's what you're mad about." You replied weakly, your body language small and cowering. "I've made coffee." You slowly turned making your way cautiously to kitchen. Bucky wiped the tears from his eyes and cheeks before stepping over the paper surrounding him and making his way over to the kitchen watching as your trembled about trying to pour the coffee.

"Here let me." He offered stepping forwards to take the pot from you, but his movements were fast making you jump out of your skin dropping the pot and fleeing to hide in the corner by the sofa. Your whole body shaking and trembling with fear. Bucky had just managed to catch the pot in time saving it from spilling or smashing placing it safely on the counter. He crept over to you slowly kneeling to face you when he was a couple of feet away from you, watching as you flinched eyeing his hand warily when he reached out to you. She thinks I'm going to hurt her. The horror of what occurred to him made him choke slightly on his inhale. "Easy doll, I'm not going to hurt you. I'll never hurt you I promise. It's Bucky, just me. No one else is here and no one will ever hurt you again." Bucky promised soothingly.

"Bucky, Rabbit teeth Bucky from Brooklyn?" You questioned with a whisper, too afraid to turn your head towards him.

"Yeah It's me. Come on trouble i need you to come out of the corner." He soothed, placing a warm hand on your shoulders as he spoke. The moment his hand touched your skin you felt a wave over tears crash down on you, bursting from your eye's. Bucky didn't waste anytime before wrapping his arms around your shaking figure pressing a warm kiss on your head.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Bucky. I'm sorry..." You sobbed repeatedly into his shoulder, your hands clutching his black t-shirt.

"What are you sorry for doll? You didn't do anything wrong." Bucky smiled reassuringly, picking you up in his arms and carrying you to the kitchen placing you carefully on the counter top beside him.

"I hurt your friends and i hurt you, i left you... I forgot you." Your voice was hurt and apologetic, your big Y/E/C eyes staring up at him through puddled tears.

"None of this is your fault. Stop blaming yourself, your remembering now and that’s what matters." Bucky reassured pouring you a hot cup of coffee and searching through your fridge for something to cook. "Where's the food?.. Hang on, is your fridge even turned on?" He quizzed sticking his flesh arm inside and giving you an unamused glare. "Y/N have you eaten anything other than the food Maggie sent you?"

"Um, no. Guess i forgot." You shrugged sipping at the steaming beverage in your hands. Bucky let out an exasperated sigh closing the fridge, melting at the sight of your weary eyes and apologetic smile.

"I'll call Maggie, ask her to send us some food."Bucky groaned, moving to lean beside you resting his arm on your leg as he placed his order. You smiled resting your chin on his shoulder as he spoke.

"Say Bucky, How did Maggie know where i lived and why did she keep bringing me food I hadn't ordered or paid for?" You questioned after he'd hung up, the blush on his face said it all but you wanted to hear him say it.

"I found your notes in the newspaper and tracked you down, within about three hours of you leaving. Asked Maggie if she'd bring you some food up every now and then and to bill it to me." He admitted turning to face you, his hands resting on your legs as he watched you sip your coffee in thought.

"But i made that code up, theres no way you could've figured it out!" You exclaim pouting at him.

"Y/N i helped you invent that code when you were ten. We used it for everything." Bucky smirked, running a thumb a long your pouty bottom lip.

"You know if we carry on like this, Sam's going to win the bet." You commented fighting the urge to melt under his touch. Bucky looked at you in suprise.

"You notice that too huh." He smiled pulling you closer into him, his hands wrapped around your waist making you bite your lip, draping your hands over his shoulders as you did. "So who do you think should win? If you say Steve or Tony I'll slap you." He joked raising a pair of warning eyebrows.

"I was thinking more, Peter. Only another fews weeks and if you offer to stay with me to help with the renovations then we wouldn't have to hide it all the time. Its either him or Sam." You reasoned, your body lighting up each time he brushed his thumb against your side.

"Ok, i like it. The kid could use the win and It's better than Sam winning." Bucky agreed leaning into you just as the doorbell rang. "Of course!" He sighed hanging his head before pulling his wallet from his back pocket and striding towards the door. When he opened the door he was greeted with the smell of burgers, fries and onion rings, he smiled down at the young girl who handed him the food with an excited grin on her face. Her eyes flicking from his face, to his arm, to you in the kitchen and back.

"You're the Winter Soldier aren't you and she's your girlfriend, Trouble. Isn't she!" The young girl giggled, he had seen her around the diner a few times before, she was Maggie’s niece. Bucky smiled at her comment, the blush running to his cheeks when he heard the word 'girlfriend'.

"Yes but you have too keep it a secret for a little bit. Our friends placed bets on us so we're playing a trick on them ok?" He whispered secretively, giving her a friendly wink.

"I will i promise, Auntie Mags said to give you these peanut butter sticks too. Said she made them specially for you now that you're back together. Don't worry I'll make sure she keeps your secret." The little girl grinned handing him a small paper bag filled to the top with delicious pastries. Bucky smiled handing her the money for the food and giving her a large tip for keeping her troubles. "Nice to see you again Miss Y/N/N." She called before skipping her way back down stairs.

"Miss Y/N/N? care to explain doll?" He smirked making his way over to the sofa where you now sat, two sets of cutlery and dishes laid out alongside a fresh mug of coffee. You blushed at the question.

"I asked Maggie to keep an eye on you. Told her to keep me up to date on how you were doing. I think she knew what was going on before we did." You blushed, staring up at him through thick eyelashes making him chuckle.

"You're so cute." He smirked dishing out the food and pulling you further into his side.

"Hey take that back! I could kick your ass any day of the week and i did this whole renovation on my own. I am NOT cute!" You demanded fiercely only making the grin on his face even bigger, it took all he had to hold back the laughter desperate to fight it's way through but it was no use you could still see the humour and adoration his face. "I hate you." You grumbled rolling your eyes. Bucky smirked wrapping arms around you and pulling you onto his lap, caressing a hand over your cheek and holding your head gently as he lent in placing soft kisses over your cheek and lips. A smug grin plastering his face when he felt you smile against him.

"You sure about that doll?" He teased brushing the hair from your neck for more access but just as he was about to kiss your neck he stopped, moving closer your ear and whispering. "Foods getting cold." You shoved him playfully trying to force you giggling face into a scowl but it wasn't happening.

"You're such a punk!" You laughed moving off his lap and tucking into your piping hot food. We had time! You thought grumpily watching as Bucky flicked through the channels until he landed on an old black and white movie. "Ugh god, i forgot how old you are." You mocked sending him a cheeky sideways glance.

"Excuse you I'm only eleven months and two days older than you." He replied with a chuckle, your face lifting in surprise.

"How? No, Why do you remember that?" You asked in shock, it had been such a long time since either of you had remembered your time before all of this had happened and so much had happened, to hold onto a single scrap of worthless information like that was just simply amazing.

"Don't say it." He warned playfully, making you give him a questioning look. "I know what you're going to say doll. It maybe worthless to every one else but to me, it's one of the most important pieces of information in the world. The first five obviously being your favourite food, song, colour, the sound of your laugh and the colour of your eyes." He continued smiling deep into your eyes, he didn't expect you to remember anything. How could he, you'd been through so much and you'd only just begun the healing process.

"Peanut butter stick and Macaroni salad, Heart and soul, green but not just any green spring grass green, you laugh at the frog joke every time even though its awful and your eyes are steel blue with a grey strip through the left." You listed nonchalantly, moving your gaze from the ceiling to his face, smirking at the look of amazement spreading around his perfect features.

"How the hell...?" Bucky trailed off his mouth hanging open a little at his loss for words. You slowly pushed his jaw back up smiling nervously. You were Just about to ask again when Bucky grabbed your face and waist pulling you into a deep kiss.

"I take it i got it right then?" You asked with a smile against his lips. Bucky pulled away slowly, resting his forehead against your own, the emotion in that kiss had told you everything you needed to know, you had nailed it.

"Shut up and eat your food before it gets cold." He muttered moving back to continue eating the rest of the food piled on his plate. You couldn't help but grin smugly as he turned his attention to the movie on TV.

"ARE YOU INSANE?! WHAT WERE YOU IDIOTS THINKING?" Tony roared staring down at Rhodes, Barton and Vision, his face red with rage as he paced back and forth in front of them. Vision was almost completely healed and Rhodes barely had a scratch on him but Barton now had both arms in casts and had been signed out of active duty for at least six months.

"Bucky was losing his mind and she was a threat to civilians!" Rhodes defended.

"Oh that's funny because in the last few weeks she's been living there. There hasn't been a problem, she kept her nose clean and was actually making progress." Tony quipped viciously. "Do you think i didn't keep tabs on her? You think i just let her wander out into the big wide world on her own. The second Bucky found her i asked Maggie and Mr O'Malley to keep tabs on her, hell i even asked shield to put an undercover operative there in case something happened. And d'you know what? NOTHING FUCKING DID!" He bellowed making the trio leap back in their chairs.

"Hey Tony, can I have a word?" Steve’s head popped round the corner, saving the group from any further scoldings.

Masterlist

[dibs4ever]

DickBabs Wedding Day (Fanfic)

As promised here is my DICKBABS wedding fic, it turned our longer then I expected but I hope it’s worth the read

“Get back here!” Stephanie grinned chasing after the toddler and scooping him up with a smile. She tickled his belly causing him to giggle.

“Say my name” she smiled pressing her forehead up the against the 15-month-old’s

“Teph” he grinned playing with the sequence on her short sleeved lavender bridesmaid dress

Stephanie smiled “That right” she bopped his little nose

Cassandra entered the room followed by Jason.

“There you are” Cassandra smiled “Let me see my nephew” she held her hands out

Stephanie shook her head “Barbara gave me one duty as her bridesmaid----to get my nephew dressed, you’re not taking that from me. Besides they’re letting you watch him while they are on their honeymoon” she mockingly argued blowing raspberry on Nathan’s cheeks

Cassandra rolled her eyes continuing into the room “I’m not, let me just hold him for a second, besides if it bugs you that much I’ll let you and Timbers play house with him for one night” she held her hands out and Stephanie handed him over. “Barbara is dressed, she look’s amazing”

“Mama!” Nathan smiled

Jason rolled his eyes and walked toward the girls “Now you did it”

“I see mama” Nathan said again

Cassandra shook her head “Sorry bud, we let you see her now you’ll be throwing a fit when we have to pull you away from her, so you can play ring bearer” she brushed the strands of jet black hair away from his little face

Nathan looked at her oddly before twisting his body sideways, making it slightly difficult for Cassandra to hold onto him “Unci Aye see Mama” he reached his little arms toward Jason

Jason held his hands up “Sorry Rugrat, I’ve been told no men are even aloud in that wing of the manor”

Cassandra turned Nathan, so he was back in her arms “I feel like he talks so well for his age” she commented

Stephanie nodded in agreement

“Hey Nate” Jason spoke catching the toddlers attention “What’s her name?” he pointed to Cassandra

Nathan pointed a finger at Cassandra “Ass” he said proudly

Jason and Stephanie laughed

“Ass” Nathan said again, enjoying the reaction he got from his aunt and uncle

“It’s not funny” Cassandra barked “Nathan Cass” she held the C

“Ass” Nathan said again

Jason laughed “Dick wanted me to tell you to just deliver the rugrat to the room where the us groomsmen are when you’re done getting him dressed” he explained before leaving the room

“I’m going to go see if Alfred needs any more last-minute help” Cassandra said passing Nathan back to Stephanie

She nodded and watched her leave the room

“Let’s get you dressed little stud muffin” she told her nephew as she kissed his chubby cheek

“Welp I hate break it to ya Dickie but your kid curses like a sailor” Jason grinned closing the door to the room where the male side of the wedding party was getting dressed

Dick was looking in the mirror making sure everything was straight “Were you making him say Cass’ name again?” he quirked an eyebrow

“You bet I was” Jason laughed flopping down on the couch

“You know she hates that” Tim pointed

Jason shrugged “Would I be a good brother if I didn’t annoy the tar out of my siblings?”

Damian rolled his eyes from where he stood on the opposite corner of the room

“Alright, how do I look? Dick asked turning to look at his brothers

Bruce stepped out of the adjoined bathroom and nodded his head “Barbara isn’t going to know what hit her” he complimented clapping Dick’s shoulder

Dick smiled proudly

There was a knock on the door and Tim stepped forward opening it, Stephanie stepped in holding Nathan now dressed in a tux. Her once neat hair was now slightly tussled “Well it took some wrangling, but I got him dressed” she smiled

Dick laughed moving forward “Hey buddy, look at you” he stretched out his hands

Nathan grinned brightly “Dada!”

He took the toddler and threw him lightly into the air causing him to giggle

“I’m going to go get this fixed” Stephanie motioned around her head

Dick nodded “Thanks for getting him dressed Steph, he looks great” he set the baby down, immediately he ran toward the curtains.

Bruce knew his grandson well enough to know that the small human was going to attempt to climb them, so he quickly stopped him by scooping him up.

Barbara took a deep breath looking herself over in the mirror. She turned around just as the hairdresser was finishing up fixing Stephanie’s hair.

“I’m sorry about that” Barbara apologized

Stephanie laughed standing up “Forget about it, it was my fault for putting him down and not keeping a close eye on him. I swear he’s part spider or something. I stepped out of the room for a second and he was half way up the bookcase”

Barbara laughed “That’s Dick’s fault, he taught him how to climb just about anything”

Dinah smiled “Only, 15 minutes left till the ceremony is supposed to start”

Barbara nodded “Don’t remind me.”

“You nervous?” Cassandra cocked an eyebrow

Barbara nodded “Like you wouldn’t believe, I’m getting married....to Dick Grayson. If you had told me that when I first met him I would have said you were crazy.”

Dinah laughed “Considering you were 12 and he was 9 I’d say I’d understand”

She took a deep breath “I need to sit down for a moment” she passed her bouquet to Dinah and sat down, running her fingers through her hair careful not to mess it up

“You’re not going to run, away are you?” Stephanie half joked

Cassandra nodded “Yeah cause the guys have your kid and if you run away he’s going to be raised by them.... can you imagine how bad that would turn out?”

Barbara laughed “I’m doing this——I want to do this.” She stood taking the bouquet back “I’m ready to marry Richard John Grayson.”

The doors flung open and Helena rushed in dressed in the same matching bridesmaid dress as the rest of the girls “I’m here, I’m so sorry I’m late but I’m here with” she glanced at the time “8 minutes to spare “she let out a breath

Barbara laughed “Sorry the hair and makeup girl just left”

Helena shrugged “No biggie it’s my punishment for being late. You on the other hand look stunning!” Her eyes widened

Dinah nodded “I know right, with her looking like that we’ll be lucky if her and Dick even show up to the reception”

This made the bridal party laugh as they made their way to the door

Dick stood at the front of the aisle bouncing on his toes. He was never nervous but right now he felt like he was about to faint. He looked around at the crowd of guests in front of him he locked eyes with the Clark Kent who was sitting in the second row Jon and Lois beside him. Clark grinned sending him a thumb up

The music started, and Dick moved his attention to the doors as they swung open. First up was Helena and Damian, there were a couple of “Awes” heard from older women finding the sharp dressed yet short for his age 13-year-old paired with the much taller than him woman. As Damian passed the Kent’s Jon covered his mouth to suffocate a chuckle earning a glare from Damian.

Next was Jason paired with Cassandra then Tim with Stephanie and finally the Best man and Maid of Honor Wally and Dinah

Nathan came out last serving as ring bearer, Wally’s daughter served as flower girl “Awes” filled the room as the toddlers entered holding the small white pillow and basket with Bruce beside them guiding the toddlers gently along.

As Bruce tried to hold Nathan’s hand and move him a little quicker the 1 year old stopped in the middle and narrowed his eyes “I do it” he said proudly

Bruce shrugged releasing the boy and walked ahead, this made Nathan quickly follow his grandfather causing the crowd of guests to laugh.

Once they were at the alter Wally bent down taking the ring box that was tied to the pillow and Bruce sat in the front row with his grandson.

Then the wedding march began, everyone stood, and the doors once again swung open revealing Barbara dressed in her white gown, her arm hooked with her fathers. Dick’s breath caught at the sight of her as she walked down the isle

Suddenly he felt tears welling up in his eyes as Jim led her down the aisle. Dick blinked back the tears “Get ahold of yourself Grayson, this isn’t like you” he thought

Jim and Barbara stood in front of him

“Who gives this woman to this man?” Alfred asked, yes Alfred was officiating the marriage. Would they honestly trust anyone else?

“I do.” Jim stood straight

Dick stepped forward to take Barbara’s hand but felt her being held back. The couple looked back at the police commissioner “Dad this is where you let go” she whispered

Letting a low sigh Jim leaned forward pecking Barbara’s cheek

“Take care of her Grayson” he lowered his eyes

Dick nodded “I will sir”

With that Dick took Barbara’s hand and turned so they were standing in front of Alfred

“We are gathered here today to unite this man and this woman in marriage” Alfred began.

After going through the stereotypical wedding ceremony Alfred smiled “The Bride and Groom have decided to read their own vows which they will do at this time, Master Dick” Alfred nodded toward the man

Dick nodded, to everyone’s surprise he didn’t take out a paper “Barbara, as I stand before you today thousands of memories flash through my mind all the way back to the day we first met. We’ve had a lot of ups and downs. Good things and bad things. Surprises that neither of us saw coming. I’ve left and came back more then once. But one thing has always remained the same. It has always been you, no matter how far away I went, how bad things got or whatever obstacle we were going through something always told me you would always be the answer. Our love story is not a fairy tale. In fact, it is probably one of the furthest things away from a fairy tale.”  This line caused some eyebrow raises from guests who didn’t know the full story of Dick and Barbara. Dick grabbed both of Barbara’s hands in his “But one thing is for sure it’s ours which makes it perfect. I know I’m nowhere near perfect, but I promise to do my best to be as close to that as I possibly can for you and our son” he kissed her hands

The guest clapped

“Easy Master Dick I have not told you to kiss the bride yet” Alfred teasingly wagged his finger.

Dick chuckled

“Alright Miss Barbara it’s your turn” Alfred smiled

Barbara took a deep breath “Well I’m going to do my best to follow up with that” she joked   “Dick, like you I’m standing here just thinking about everything we’ve gone through. We’ve known each other longer then I sometimes realize. I remember when I was 17 there was this short lanky 14-year-old boy who confessed he had a crush on me and asked me out, obviously I shot him down. Then a year later that same boy sneekingly stole a kiss, naturally I punched him in the face” Dick and Barbara exchanged smiles “Little did I know I had just kissed the love of my life for the first time. Fast forward through puberty, and some years later here we are standing in front of each other and that same boy is the father of my child and soon to become me husband. Through everything you never ever gave up on me. You have always been my biggest supporter, even when I was 12 years old and stressing about a test I could count on you to encourage me and make me feel like everything would be okay. I can’t thank you enough for all the things you have done for me through the years. I hope that I can always do the same for you, I vow to always be your biggest supporter through thick and thin no matter what life throws at us”

Next it was time to exchange the rings, when they finished Dick turned to Alfred “Can I kiss her Alfie?”

Alfred smiled “Yes Master Dick, you may kiss your bride”

Dick shot Barbara a wide grin, she smiled back just as widely as he wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her close her arms found their way to his neck and in one swift motion Dick pressed his lips to hers. Both embracing in a gentle yet passionate kiss.

They pulled apart still smiling “Ladies and Gentlemen it is my honor to introduce to you for the first time Mr. and Mrs. Grayson!”

The guests cheered as Barbara and Dick clasped hands they stopped so Barbara could take Nathan from Bruce and together the family of 3 made their way up the isle and out of the room.

“Alright let’s go get wasted!” Jason shouted——-which lead to the reception, and that’s a whole other story.

[docholligay]

Happy Father’s Day, Senator Hino!

A commission for @keyofjetwolf , who asked for the Bar AU, which can all be found under the tag “scenes from the red high heel” and Rei beiing pissy with her dad. I HOPE I DELIVERED. roughly 2700 words. 

Makoto Kino did not know much about her coworkers, at least not much in the way of their personal histories. She knew that Mina and Haruka lived in the small apartment above the bar. She knew that Haruka gratefully and happily ate any leftover Mako happened to bring to work. She knew that Mina loved men, women, and the unaffiliated with either, but nothing so much as the sound of her own voice. She knew that Rei was irrepressibly grumpy and forceful, and that the bar was a kingdom of her own making, a place she could be queen.

“I signed you up for two community college classes.” Rei nodded at Haruka, who set the box of glasses on the bar in a thud. “The schedule’s worked so you have the time off and the textbooks on the stairs.”

Haruka shook her head. “I didn’t want to sign up for classes.”

“I didn’t ask you if you wanted to.” Rei turned her back and started setting glasses behind the bar. “It’s just basic history and reading. You won’t die.”

Haruka huffed, but Mako knew another thing, that Haruka seemed to also know: The matter was settled.

“What about me, Rei, you got any,” she popped a cherry in her mouth. “Skills, I need to learn?”

Rei looked at her a moment, scowl on her face.

Mina’s tongue popped out of her mouth, revealing a perfectly tied cherry stem.

“There’s no hope for you.” Rei walked off toward the office in the back, cell phone in hand. “You start Tuesday, Haruka!”

“You know you’re right!” Mina yelled at her. “Everything I’m good at, the law says I’m not allowed to do anymore, so I guess you’re stuck with me!” She looked over at Haruka. “You could still get  out though.”

“Yeah,” she chuckled. “Lots of shops lining up to hire me.”

That was the other thing Mako knew. Both Haruka and Mina had been in prison. For what, Mako didn’t know, and there had never been a good time she thought to ask Haruka, as they’d sat under the buzzing neon out front.

“What are you doing for Father’s Day?” She asked Mina, in a way that seemed safe enough to her. “I wish Rei would get a kitchen. We could make a brunch.”

“Oh, my folks don’t talk to me so much since the whole prison thing.” She grabbed a few lemons out of the fridge, readying them for the night. “You?”

“Mine are dead.” Mako said quietly, suddenly regretting she’d brought the whole thing up at all, wishing she’d picked a date on the calendar that was less loaded. Haruka set another box of clean glasses on the counter, and Mako looked over at her, not wanting to leave her out, even wishing the conversation was finished. “You?”

“Dad? My mom didn’t think that was important for me to know.” She said, walking away, back toward the safety of the dishwasher.

Mina chuckled. “Well, aren’t we a bunch of fucking Disney Princesses. Don’t worry, the bar’ll be full of girls with daddy issues that weekend, bring a net.”

Mako scowled at her. Mina could be so cavalier about people, and it bothered her sometimes. “What about Rei?”

Mina pointed her knife at Mako. “You like your job? Like not getting yelled at? Like Rei not finding a reason to to yell at the rest of us? Don’t ask.”

Mako shrugged and kept wiping down the bar.

“Yes, I’ll see you then. Goodbye.” Rei walked out of the office and took a look over the place appraisingly. “I need you three here late tonight or early tomorrow. This place has to sparkle.”

It could not be said of Rei that she normally ran an unclean bar, and she often walked through proudly just before open and rearranged chairs and brought forward the bottles in a perfect line, chewing on her pen as she reviewed cocktail menus and daydreamed about knocking into the tiny vacant space next door, just enough to expand her kingdom.

“My father is coming in tomorrow morning.” Rei answered the silent question as if it didn’t matter, and Mako looked over at Mina with irritation.

But Mina’s mouth was too busy hanging open to notice. “Your father Senator Hino your father?”

“Your Dad is Senator Hino?!” Mako nearly dropped the chairs she was holding.

“Well, her last name’s Hino.” Haruka looked up from the table she was wiping down, as if she had just explained to Mako that the earth moves around the sun.

“I forgot you were related to a Formula One driver and an idol.” Mina laughed as she leaned across the bar toward Rei. “Miss Tenoh.”

Haruka scowled at her, but found herself unable to raise an argument over the more-famous people who shared her name but not, so far as she knew, any sort of bloodline.

“It’s all right, muffin,” she blew a kiss to Haruka. “You’re the most famous Tenoh to me.” She touched Rei’s arm. “Can I ask why you’re inviting a man you hate, even more than an ordinary man, into your bar, which is only for women, because you hate men, but especially your father.” She looked around the room. “I mean, this is weird, right? C’mon.”

Mako also knew that these three had known each other for a long time, and was always a little annoyed when they acted as if she should have the entire story of their lives memorized.

Rei opened the safe under the bar and took out a fine linen envelope. “I have a present for him.”

She walked away from the three girls, who stood staring as she retreated into her office,  some of them knowing the past, all of them knowing the present, and none of them knowing the future.

Mina called after her.

“Is the present being murdered?”

___

Senator Hino was a serious man, and Mako would have said that his bearing reminded him of Rei’s, the way he commanded the room, and probably every room, as if he owned it, and it was your own foolishness if you weren’t aware of that.

However, Mako had recently added ‘don’t talk about Rei’s father’ to the list of things she knew.

Rei extended a hand out to him stiffly, and they shook in the way that is half formality and half feat of strength.

Mako looked over to Mina and Haruka, who said nothing, their eyes darting around the room, seemingly waiting for the shot to go off, and Mako found herself more ill at ease than she had felt in all her months here. It was one thing, to deal with the drunk men who tried to slither through the door, she knew what the rules were and how far she could bend them. But to stand still as you waited to see what developed, knowing you were only allowed to watch--that was the greatest difficulty to Mako.

And it must have been similar to Haruka, who faithlessly grabbed the box of empty bottles and hurried out toward the alleyway, leaving Mina and Mako to watch.

“Thank you for meeting me on such short notice.” Rei had dressed for the occasion in a fine navy suit, with a red silk blouse that perfectly matched her red high heels.

“Business partners often must.”

Rei pressed her lips together tightly,  but managed a smile. “Of course. My office?”

The heels clicked down the hallway like every beat of her heart, louder and faster, waiting for this moment as she’d waited since the day they had opened. Rei had meant so many things for this bar, for it to be a community and to contribute to it, and she meant to make them happen, now that she was done socking away money for her first great goal, in all her life’s grand goals.

She pulled out the chair for him to sit, happily poured him a glass of water, and extended her gift with both hands.

“Happy Father’s Day.” She put the envelope in his hands, so formal in its fine paper, his name in neat, dark, calligraphy on the outside.

He smiled at her as he opened it. “Oh Rei, I didn’t expect--” he stopped, looking at the bills in the envelope. “What’s this?”

“My last payment on the loan you gave me to open the bar.” She set down a piece of paper in front of him. “The deed to the building, ready to be fully signed over to me.” She turned at yelled toward the door. “Mako!”

He looked at her with a mix of surprise and dismissiveness, that look that had defined so many of their exchanges, when he could be bothered to exchange with her at all.

He’d given her that look, and nothing else, the day her mother died.

The rage burned and melted through her like lava, wanting to explode, wanting to let ash rain down over everything. But she was the queen here, and she held command, and so she did not need to fight, wasn’t that true? And to be queen was to be calm.

He looked at the envelope, and the deed sitting on the table, and back at Rei, saying nothing, just watching, appraising, his political rival and not his daughter. He rifled through the bills again, and smiled up at Rei.

“Five years early.” He opened his suit jacket and pulled a sleek Mont Blanc out of the inner pocket, pulling the deed closer to him. “Dedicated, practical. You do take after me.”

Rei snorted. “If I took after you, this bar would be open to whoever wanted to pay me.”

Mako walked in the door and shut it behind her with a firm slam, ready to fight. They stared at her, mirrored faces of anger and determination aimed like two beams, and Mako’s anger turned to confusion.

“Heyyyy…” she waved awkwardly.

“I don’t owe you anything now.” She towered over him, the table between them like a safety fence. “Sign it.”

She walked over to her desk and pulled out Mako’s notary stamp, which she had made a paid-for condition of Mako’s employment. Mako had thought it odd, at the time, but wondered if maybe a lesbian bar had the occasional call to solemnize legal documents, in much the way that a shipping store often sold money orders.

It hadn’t made much sense to her girlfriend, but Mako had faith Rei must have had some business reason for doing so.

Business can be a difficult word to define.

“Is this why you had me become a notary? Just for this moment?” She stared at the stamp. “Why not Haruka or Mina?”

Rei did not look to Mako, just kept her arms crossed and stared at her father. “They’re felons, they can’t be bonded. Stamp the deed.”

“This is the weirdest job I’ve ever had…” But she did not see fit to argue with Rei, any more than she felt a compulsion to tell the wind not to blow, and stamped the paper.

“Felons?” He chuckled. “Interesting choice of partners, my little Rei.”

“Right, I forgot if I work with criminals, they should steal millions, instead of a car.”

Mako was a straightforward woman, and she often struggled with the smaller emotional nuances and sarcasms that Rei and Mina battered back and forth. That teal haired girl who came in and stared at Haruka may as well be speaking Greek.

But she could, from time to time, take the emotional temperature of the room, and if there was a place Rei was going to be angry, she knew something else: It was better not to be there.

She would tell the story a bit more gallantly, later, but the truth of the matter was, she whipped out of the room, suddenly very excited about the prospect of cleaning the front window.

“You’ll leave this bar, because it’s my bar,” She picked up the deed. “And I don’t want you in it.”

“After all I’ve done for you--”

“This loan was the first and last thing you ever did for me that wasn’t a show!” She did not mean to allow the explosion, but the ash and ember felt clean and pure on her lips, fire burning everything that was rotted and ugly to the ground.

In truth, she did not even know that he had truly done it for her. In this one fact of life, she had remained ignorant. There were a dozen reasons at least he could have done it--shoring up the gay constituency without having to do anything for them, looking to be seen supporting women’s businesses, showing his political mates that he was a good father.

It may have been foolish, and Rei would never breathe it aloud, but she needed to believe that at least this one thing had not been a show. She did not, and would not, believe that he was a good man, or had ever been. But she needed to believe that on one moment of one day, he had loved her for herself.

Her father stood, buttoning his suit coat. “You know nothing about being a parent. Or in politics.”

“Maybe I will someday!” She snapped, and she saw the confetti of flame on the air, the one that defined her from the time she was small.

He laughed. “You, with a child?”

“Me, running against you for office.”

There was a flicker of fear in his eyes then, a candle wobbling in the wind, and Rei tasted his worry and it felt sweet in her mouth. She could win, and if not win, then challenge his authority in such a way that would break the back of his political supremacy.

He chuckled, but it was weak, more mist than smoke. “You’ll just waste your time.”

“That’s what you said about the bar. Get out,” She swung open the door. “And get ready, because I’m coming for you someday.”

He turned on his heel, fists balled, and stomped the straight line from the office of the bar to its entrance, where Mako studiously scrubbed the window, and Haruka pulled a few tables apart to wash.

Mina called out as he steamed through the door.

“Thanks, don’t came again, we hate men!”

The only response was a slam so hard it shook the plate glass window, as Rei stormed out of the office. She did not say a word, simply walked over to the bar, slammed a glass down on the counter, and pulled a bottle of smoked whiskey off the top shelf, pouring it roughly into the glass.

“You know usually that’s taken over ice.” Mina deadpanned. “As a recommended serving from the mixologist.”

Rei put the glass to her lips and took a deep drink.

Haruka stood up straight from the table she was cleaning, twisting the rag in her hands awkwardly. “Do you want me to go kick his ass? I can still catch him.”

Mako nodded, crossing her arms and ready for the first piece of logic she’d seen today. She was not sure, and less sure that she ever would be, why Rei and her father were at odds. But after a few months in this job, there were other things Mako knew: She trusted Rei’s instincts, and considered Rei one of the more decent bosses she’d ever had, and when Mako decided she liked you, her fists could come to your aid fairly swiftly.

Rei drained the glass and shook her head, tossing back her hair. “The Red High Heel is mine now. He’s out.”

Mina put her hand on Rei’s leg. “Do you need someone to call Daddy? Because I’m availa--OW”

Rei smiled as she withdrew the cocktail fork from the back of Mina’s hand.

“Mako, I was thinking about expanding to give us a kitchen.”

Mako smiled brightly. “You know I’ve always wanted--”

“You start culinary school coursework next Monday. I signed you up for the restaurant courses across town. There’s a bus pass, and apron, and knives in your locker in the back.” She set the glass in the sink behind her, smiled, and clicked her way back to her office, the footsteps sounding lighter on the old wood.

The girls looked at each other. Rei was Rei, and Rei was queen, and nothing could stop her now.

Mina put her hands on her hips, and yelled back to the office.

“You know I know that you’re only ignoring my development so I can be your trophy wife, right?!”

[saultnpeppah]

With Love

Submission for Day 3..more like 3.5. So sorry it’s late and sorry it’s so long. 

@fyeahwonderbat

The morning light peaked into the room, the small sliver of sunlight shining onto the face of the room's only occupant, forcing a groan from the woman's lips. She had been perfectly content with the idea of sleeping in, having spent a good chunk of the night on a mission with some of the other members of the League. She had come home , exhausted and sore, and had crawled into bed, intent on waiting for Bruce to return from patrol. However, when she had woken up a few hours later when Bruce had crawled out of the bed to head into work, she knew she had missed her opportunity to see him.

She rolled over, turning to face Bruce's empty side of the bed, her hand coming to rest where he usually laid. Ever since moving into the manor, laying next to Bruce every night had been Diana's favorite thing. She loved watching him sleep, watching how his face relaxed and was relatively more calm as he slept next to her.

She also loved the late night conversations the two of them had. She would occasionally find herself waiting for Bruce to come home from patrol, wanting to know how his day had gone, and surprisingly, Bruce was willing to tell her nearly every detail of his day, and night; there were some things Bruce still felt the need to protect Diana from.

There was a small knock on the door, forcing Diana to open an eye, immediately groaning at the intrusion of the light, before she shut her eyes tightly and pulled the covers over her face. She was still so exhausted and was starting to form a splitting migraine. Surely Alfred would understand she needed a few extra moments of rest.

There was another knock on the door and Diana let out a sigh, knowing it was time to get up for the day. She glanced over at the clock on Bruce's nightstand: 6:12. Maybe she would be able to see if Bruce was available for brunch later.

She quickly tossed the covers off her body and swung her legs off the bed, before she stood, reaching up to stretch her sore muscles. She quickly grabbed the robe that was hanging off the back of the chair near the bed, throwing it over her shoulders and tying it around her waist, before she made her way to the door.

Diana quickly opened the door, fully expecting to see Alfred standing behind it, however her lips curled into a small smile when she saw who was standing in his place. "Hi, Diana, I'm sorry to wake you up…..but you had a package waiting for you."

Tim placed the wrapped box into Diana's hands, smiling when the Amazon gave him a warm smile. "Thank you Tim," she said, her eyes glancing down at the box in her hands. What had come for her, and why was Tim the one delivering it? "Where is Alfred?" she asked, glancing down the hall over Tim's shoulder.

Tim shrugged his shoulders. "I think he had some errands to run, but he should be back soon." With that, Tim walked down the hall and bounded down the stairs, wanting to get a quick breakfast in before he had to run off to school.

Diana watched Tim walk away, shaking her head when he hopped down the stairs. Since coming to live in the manor, Diana and Tim had formed a special bond, and she had come to regard the teen like a son. She loved him, and even if he hadn't told her on multiple occasions, she knew he had felt the same about her.

She quickly retreated back into the room, gently closing the door with her foot, before she walked to the bed and placed the package on top of the mattress. Careful not to rip the bow on the top, she carefully pried open the lid, peaking inside, her smile growing when she saw the dress laying inside.

Diana pulled the dress from out of the box, holding it up to her body, marveling in the light fabric and how it felt against her skin. It was a red summer dress, stopping just above her knees, with two thin straps that were to rest on her shoulders. Diana's smile widened when she realized Bruce must've picked this out a few days ago when she had come home from Metropolis, as she had told him she had spotted the cutest boutique the last time she had gone to visit Clark and Lois.

She carefully placed the dress onto the bed, careful not to wrinkle the item, before she reached back into the box and pulled out the envelope that was laying at the bottom. She quickly opened it and read the words written in Bruce's handwriting, something she had come to familiarize herself with pretty early in their friendship.

I hope you enjoy this dress, Princess. I know you will look beautiful in it, as you do in anything.

With Love,

Bruce

P.S. You look beautiful out of clothes too ;)

Diana let out a chuckle, before she shook her head. She quickly placed Bruce's note back into the box, before she walked into their bathroom, preparing to shower and get ready for the day.

Diana trotted down the stairs, her long hair gently bouncing as she moved. The fabric of the dress Bruce had bought swayed with each step, and she couldn't help but smile when she realized it had been a perfect fit. Bruce truly did know her body more than she thought.

She jumped off the last step and walked towards the kitchen, the smell of a delicious meal wafting throughout the manor. Alfred must have returned to the manor while she had been getting ready. She quickly walked into the kitchen, the sight of Alfred pulling something out of the oven while Tim curiously glanced over his shoulder sent a smile to her face.

"Good morning," Diana said, walking into the room. She took a seat next to Tim on the breakfast bar, gently patting his back as he flashed her a smile. "Don't you have a big presentation this morning?"

Tim settled back in his stool, watching with wide eyes as Alfred popped the freshly baked muffins onto a cooling tray, his mouth watering. "Mmhmm," he said, taking a sip of the orange juice from the glass in front of him. "I'm going to crush it," he said, finally turning his attention to Diana, offering her another smile.

Diana smiled, giving him a small nod, as she graciously accepted the cup of tea Alfred handed her. "Thank you Alfred," she said, before turning back to Tim. She took a small sip of the hot liquid, watching as the butler gave her a large grin.

"You're welcome Ms. Diana," he said, turning just in time to see Tim sneak a muffin from the counter. He shook his head, watching as the teen took a bite of the baked good, his mouth opening when the still hot food hit his taste buds. "I do believe Master Bruce did a good job," he said, nodding at the dress she wore.

Diana looked down at the dress she wore, a smile on her face as she nodded in agreement. "And where is Master Bruce?" she asked, grabbing a napkin and using it to pluck a muffin off the rack in front of her, having learned from Tim's mistake. She quickly pulled off a piece of the muffin and put it in her mouth, her smile growing when the muffin hit her taste buds. Not only was Alfred a remarkable cook, but his baked goods were to die for.

Alfred poured himself a cup of tea and stood across from Tim and Diana. He caught Tim's eyes with his own and raised an eyebrow, to which Tim responded with a slight nod of his head. "Master Bruce had something to attend to," Alfred responded, before he pulled an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to Diana. "But he did want me to give this to you."

Diana grabbed the envelope, carefully looking over at Alfred, her eyebrow raised in confusion. "What's going on?" she asked, watching as Alfred shrugged, before he took a sip of his tea, trying to occupy his mouth . He knew he couldn't lie to Diana, but he also knew he couldn't spoil the surprise Bruce had been working on for the past month. Diana, knowing she wasn't going to get anymore information from Alfred, turned to Tim, who had tensed when he felt her gaze on him. "Do you know anything about this?" she asked, raising the sealed envelope in her hands.

She watched as he cautiously shook his head, his eyes avoiding hers. She noticed Alfred shake his head, telling Tim to remain quiet, before she crossed her arms over her chest. "Timothy," Diana warned, causing the young teen to panic. Diana never called him by his full name unless he was in trouble, and although he wanted to tell Diana what Bruce had planned, he wanted her to be surprised.

Tim quickly shoved the rest of his muffin into his mouth and hopped off the stool. "Presentation. Can't be late," he said in between bites, before he grabbed his backpack from the floor, slung it over his shoulder, and rushed out of the room.

Diana listened as the front door slammed shut, before she shook her head and chuckled to herself. She broke off another piece of the muffin in front of her and placed it into her mouth, turning to glance up at Alfred. "What is he hiding?" she asked, her eyebrows raising, amused by Tim's behavior.

Alfred merely shrugged once more, finished his tea, and placed the empty cup into the sink. "I do believe I should take Master Tim to school." He walked around the breakfast bar and gave Diana another smile, before he nodded towards the small envelope in his hands. "I believe you'll find an answer to one of your questions inside." With that he walked out of the room and out of the manor.

Diana took another bite of her muffin and let out a small sigh, before she ripped open the envelope in her hand, pulling out the note and placing the damaged envelope onto the breakfast bar. She quickly unfolded the paper in her hands, a smile unconsciously gracing her lips when she saw Bruce's handwriting once more.

Princess,

Meet me where we had our first kiss.

And you better be ready to kiss me again.

Love,

Bruce

Diana's smile grew when she read his note, happy to see he had made time to see her today since they hadn't had any time together for the past few days. He had been busy with both Wayne Enterprises and his nightly patrols in Gotham, and she had been working tirelessly with some of the other League members, they had barely seen each other, let alone had a decent conversation, during the last week. She was more than ready to get some quality time with him.

She quickly hopped off her stool and walked out of the room. She made her way to the room where the grand piano was, pushing open the door, before she leaned against the door frame. She remembered when she had first saw Bruce play, how he had amazed her with how skilled he was, and in all the years of knowing him, she wondered how he had been able to hide that part of him for so long. She remembered confessing her feelings to him and his response had been to grab her face and kiss her sweetly, before she laid her head on his shoulder and continued to listen to him play. In the year since that day she had heard Bruce play a handful of times, only feeling inspired when she sat by his side. She didn't mind though. She loved being his muse, and she loved watching him play. A love for music was something they both shared, and she couldn't have imagined a different way for them to have shared a beautiful moment, and a beautiful kiss. But as she leaned against the door, a smile on her face, she suddenly realized something: it had not been their first.

Their first kiss, which had been made during a desperate attempt to hide her and Bruce's identities from the Thanagarian soldiers, had been in an Indian restaurant. She remembered it vividly, and although she had tried to talk to Bruce about it for months after, he had refused to discuss it until they had started dating, when he had told her he had wanted to kiss her again, but he knew they had more pressing matters to attend to in that moment; he had more than made up for it since.

She quickly pushed off the frame of the doorway and turned on her heel, trotting down the hallway until she reached the front door to the manor. Quickly slipping on a pair of heels, Diana opened the door, making sure to grab her purse that had been hanging near the door, and walked outside.

Alfred was still driving Tim to school and she knew he wouldn't be back for another twenty minutes, but she could not wait that long to see Bruce. Instead, she jumped into the air and flew off towards the familiar location, knowing she would be able to see Bruce soon.

She quickly landed in front of the restaurant, startling a few pedestrians, before their eyes grew wide in awe. "Wonder Woman," she heard some of them whisper as she made her way to the front door, flashing them a dazzling smile before she opened the door.

Her senses were immediately assaulted by an assortment of smells and sounds, and her stomach began to grumble, letting her know she should have finished her muffin before she left the manor. She quickly stepped inside, letting the door shut behind her, before she watched the owner walk up to her. "Wonder Woman," he said with a smile, the slight accent in his voice bringing her back to that night over two years ago. "So nice to see you. Come, come. Mr. Wayne is waiting for you."

He motioned for her to follow him into the next room, before he moved aside, allowing Diana to see Bruce sitting at a private table, his phone in his hand as he stared intently at the screen. "Thank you," Diana said to the owner, watching as he nodded before he walked into the kitchen, leaving the Amazon to stare at Bruce.

She watched as he typed something on his phone, his eyes narrowing at whatever he was working on, before he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He carefully laid the phone on the table and let out a sigh, before he glanced up and saw Diana standing in front of him. His face immediately lighted up, his lips curving up into a smile when he saw his girlfriend standing a few feet in front of him. Without a word he rose from his seat and opened his arms, his smile growing when she walked up to him and into his arms. "Morning Princess," he whispered, his arms wrapping around her, keeping her firmly pressed against his body.

"Morning," she mumbled against his chest, taking a deep breath, breathing in a mix of his cologne, aftershave, and body wash. It was intoxicating, and until recently, she hadn't realized how much she had missed smelling him besides her at night.

Bruce dropped his head, letting his nose fall into her hair, taking in a deep breath. Likewise, he had missed smelling the vanilla of her conditioner in bed, and having her there in his arms made him realize how he didn't want to go that long without seeing her again. "Sorry I didn't wake you this morning," he said, placing a kiss on the crown of her head, "I knew you were exhausted and wanted you to rest."

He pulled away from Diana, stared into her eyes, and watched her give him a nod. "I appreciate it," she said with a smirk, "But I would have appreciated a kiss more."

Bruce let out a chuckle, before he leaned in and kissed her lips. "How's that?" he asked, pulling back from her face, watching as she scrunched her nose and shook her head, before he leaned down and captured his lips once more, this time moving his hand up to gently cradle her face, using the pad of his thumb to gently stroke her cheek.

He slowly pulled away from Diana, watching as she opened her eyes slowly, the smile on her face too big to hide. "Much better," she whispered, before she pulled away from Bruce and took a seat at the table. "Who was on the phone?" she asked, crossing her legs as she leaned back into the chair.

Bruce took a seat and gently shook his head. "Just work, Princess," he answered, his hand finding hers on the table. "Nothing to worry about." He gently intertwined their fingers, taking a moment to glance over her body, before he gave her a grin. "You look beautiful by the way."

Diana looked down at the dress she wore and gave him a smile. "I think my boyfriend has some excellent tastes," she replied, watching as his grin grew.

"Your boyfriend is a lucky man," he said, before he reached into his jacket pocket. "And he would like to ask you a question." He quickly pulled another envelope out from his jacket and placed it on the table near their adjoining hands. "I have to go away for a bit," he began, watching as her eyes narrowed.

She let out a sigh and bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to show her disappointment. "How long?" she asked. She knew Bruce was a busy man, and running a multi-billion dollar company required him to take frequent, and sometimes long, business trips, but she was hoping she would be able to spend some time with him before either of them had to leave again.

"A few days," he responded, before he pulled his hand off hers and reached for the envelope on the table. "But," he began, opening the envelope. "I wanted to know if you'd like to join me." He pulled a photo from the envelope and placed it on the table, watching as her eyes widened. "It's not Themyscira, and I will still have to have at least one business meeting, but I think a few days in Greece, away from Gotham and the League would do us both some good."

Diana looked up, her eyes meeting his, unsure of what to say. "Bruce," she began, taking the photo from off the table and bringing it closer to her eyes. She remembered the spot fairly well, having spent a few days there last year when the League had helped end a ring of arms dealers. She had loved the small island, feeling like she was back home, and had told Bruce she would have loved to visit once more, but under better circumstances. "I would love to go," she said, "But Gotham, the League-"

Bruce shook his head once more. "Already taken care of," he replied, "Clark says to enjoy yourself. As I'm sure I will enjoy you," he added with a wink.

Diana chuckled and gave him a nod. "Sounds promising," she responded with a wink of her own. She watched as Bruce nodded, his smirk growing as she moved her foot up his leg, startling him. "When do we leave?"

Bruce leaned back in his seat. "After lunch," he said, watching as the owner walked over to their table, his hands full of food. "Alfred has everything already packed and ready to go."

Diana laid her head on Bruce's chest, letting it rise and fall with his heavy breaths. They had arrived in Greece the morning before, and although Diana had wanted to go out and experience the sand between her toes, the sunlight on her face, Bruce wouldn't let her leave the bed of their suite. They had spent the last twenty-four hours familiarizing themselves with each others' bodies, glad to finally spend time together, with no distractions. "This was well needed," Bruce said as he placed a hand under his head, supporting his neck, as he glanced down at the woman on his chest.

Diana turned to face him and smirked. "The sex? Or the vacation?"

"Both." He placed his hand gently on her back and began to run gentle circles on her skin with his finger. "But as much as I'd like to stay in this bed with you, I have a meeting to get to in an hour. And this prospective client is not the most patient."

"That's fine," Diana said, lifting off his body. She crawled off the bed and walked into the bathroom, calling over her shoulder, "Maybe I can meet you for dinner."

Bruce nodded, even though she was no longer able to see him. He quickly reached down and grabbed his phone off the floor, before he opened the last message that had popped up on the screen.

I will be there, but not for you. I'll do it for her.

Bruce walked up to Diana, a smile on his face as he pulled her into his arms. "Glad you found it," Bruce said, kissing her cheek. His meeting had gone a lot later than he had planned, but he knew he would be done in time for dinner. So, Diana had offered to meet him at a nearby restaurant, wanting to finally experience the beauty of Greece from someplace other than their hotel suite.

"It wasn't that hard," Diana said, looping her arm in Bruce's, letting the sleeve of his shirt gently brush up against her bare shoulder. He led her into the restaurant, waving at the bartender as they made their way to the table near the back. "How did your meeting go?"

Bruce smirked, the memory of the past few hours fresh in his mind. "Surprisingly well," he responded. "You look beautiful by the way." He glanced down at the dress she wore, a smile on his face as he took in how the light blue fabric stopped just above her knees, swaying gently with the casual breeze. He would definitely have to pay Alfred and Tim for rummaging through Diana's closet and choosing the perfect attire for their trip….then again, she'd look beautiful in anything.

"Thank you," Diana said with a smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "So what kind of business was this?" she asked, watching as he smirked.

"Oh, no more business talk," he said, patting the back of her hand, "Right now, I have a surprise for you."

He continued to lead her to the back, watching as she stopped in her track when she saw who Bruce had been having a meeting with. It had been the last person she had expected to be here, let alone meeting Bruce, but when she saw the blonde stand and take a step towards her, she couldn't help herself.

She quickly rushed into the woman's arms, her face resting in the crook of the blonde's neck, as the tears in her eyes threatening to spill over. "Don't cry my little sun and stars," Hippolyta said, gently patting her daughter's back.

Diana hugged her mother tightly, never wanting to let her go. It had been nearly a year since she had last seen her mother, when she had gone to explain her and Bruce's relationship, knowing her mother needed to hear it from her rather than hear the news elsewhere. Hippolyta hadn't been too happy, in fact, she was downright angry that her daughter had decided to have a relationship with a man, when she was supposed to be working as a hero. She was supposed to be an ambassador of Themyscira, there to help mankind, not run around with men, starting romances and flings with people who did not deserve her time.

Diana had left the island that day heartbroken, wanting nothing more than for her mother to accept Bruce and their relationship, but she knew it would take time. She had been meaning to go back and demand she meet Bruce, allow him the opportunity to show her mother how much they loved each other, and show her what they had was real, but the League and Gotham had kept them both busy.

"How are you here? You left the island?" Diana asked, her eyes wide with realization. She pulled away from her mother and looked into her blue eyes.

Hippolyta's eyes glanced over at Bruce, before she let out a small sigh. "Hermes came to me, saying I was needed off the island. When I arrived with him, he informed me Bruce had prayed to the gods, wanting to get in contact with him, begging to get a message to me." She watched as Diana looked over at Bruce, her eyes widening when she heard Bruce had prayed to her gods. Since the moment she had met him, Bruce had been against the idea of her gods existing. He hated magic, and he never wanted anything to do with it. Why the sudden change? "Hermes showed me how to get in contact with Bruce," she said, flashing the small phone in her hand, her eyebrows furrowed from the frustration with the device.

She watched as her daughter continued to stare at Bruce, her smile widening as she looked at the blushing man. "What are you doing here?" Diana asked, "Why did you contact my mother?" Her last question was directed towards Bruce, and she watched as he shrugged, before he placed his hand gently on her shoulder.

"I wanted to surprise you. I knew you needed to speak to your mother, and I wanted to give you that opportunity," Bruce explained. He watched as Diana continued to stare at him, the tears spilling out of her eyes, and he smiled, before she jumped into his arms and pulled him into a hug

"Thank you," she whispered, before she pressed her lips against his. "I love you, Bruce."

Bruce placed his hand on the back of her head, holding her close, as he kissed her once more. "I love you too, Princess," he replied. He watched as she smiled and placed her head on his chest, before he glanced over her shoulder at Hippolyta.

She glared at him, her eyes narrowing at the sight of his arms around her daughter. He was a mere mortal man, how dare he think he could touch the Princess of the Amazons. "Diana, I would like to speak with you," Hippolyta began, watching as her daughter pulled away from Bruce, her hands remaining on his chest. "Alone," she said, continuing to stare at the duo.

Hippolyta watched as Diana turned away from Bruce to stare at her mother, her eyes narrowing when she realized what she was doing. She was trying to push Bruce away, but she didn't know just how connected the two of them were. "Mother," Diana began, stopping when she felt Bruce's hand fall on her shoulder.

"It's okay," he whispered, his eyes meeting Hippolyta's. "You two enjoy the day together. I'll be waiting at the hotel." He gently placed a kiss on the back of her head, before he walked away from the two and out of the restaurant.

Diana watched Bruce leave, a small sigh escaping her lips, before she turned to face her mother. "I've missed you," she said, watching as Hippolyta cracked a smile.

"I've missed you too."

Diana walked side by side with her mother, smiling as Hippolyta continued to tell her latest news from Themyscira. She hadn't realized how much she had missed home, but seeing her mother, and listening to her talk about her Amazon sisters made her realize how homesick she had truly been. Maybe she should plan on visiting sometime soon.

"So I take it things between you and Bruce are progressing well?"

Diana glanced up at her mother, making sure not to run into a tourist who had stopped to take a photo in front of them. She watched as Hippolyta placed the last of the chocolate in her mouth, a small smile on her face as she savored the last piece of the sweet Diana had introduced her to after dinner. "Bruce and I are great," Diana said with another smile, watching as her mother nodded and let out a sigh. "But that is not why you wanted me alone, is it?"

She watched as Hippolyta crossed her hands behind her back, one hand holding the other's wrist, before she gently bit her bottom lip, contemplating how to move forward with the conversation. After Hermes had informed her that Bruce had requested an audience with her, Hippolyta knew it could only mean one thing: he wanted to marry Diana. She had hoped she was wrong, having wanted Diana not to worry herself with any relationship, whether it be with a man or woman, but when she had seen Bruce in that restaurant, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the ring in his hand, she knew she had no such luck.

Hippolyta had asked Hermes to give her any background on Bruce, as during their last meeting Diana had been vague with details of who her beloved was, and he had shown her what he could find on such short notice; she was not impressed. Bruce Wayne, according to the papers, was a selfish womanizer who had too much money to know what to do with. He didn't take things seriously and would always be a party boy. The Prince of Gotham was what the news reports had called him, making Hippolyta scoff and toss the article into the trash, angry with the title; a true member or royalty would never act as he had.

When she had actually spoken with him, and he had told her his intentions of marrying Diana, Hippolyta had shook her head in protest, adamant about keeping her daughter away from such a man. Bruce was respectful, she'd give him that, but he wasn't afraid of her. He had contacted her because he loved and respected Diana, and knew she would want her mother to be a part of this important milestone of her life. She hadn't known just how much he had pushed his pride aside and prayed to gods he wasn't entirely sure he believed in, but he did it for Diana.

"I don't like Bruce," Hippolyta replied, taking another step down the street alongside her daughter. She watched as Diana followed her actions, crossing her arms behind her back, and gave her head a small shake.

"You don't know Bruce, Mother." Diana glanced at her mother, taking in her regal posture as she took another step down the street, unphased by her daughter's rebellious words. "Bruce is much more than he appears to be."

"Ah yes," Hippolyta began, "The Batman." She watched as Diana quickly turned her head to face her, her eyebrows furrowing as she pressed her lips into a firm line. "And what does that do for the two of you?"

Diana paused for a moment, before she let out another sigh. "I fell in love with The Batman, and I fell in love with Bruce," she said, her voice low, trying not to attract the attention of the few people around them. They may have been in another country, but she still would protect Bruce's secret. "The longer I knew him, the more I came to realize they were the same person, and I love both parts of him. He is a warrior, Mother, and he fights for those who cannot fight for themselves." She looked her mother in the eye before she added, "And he treats me more than just another woman. He loves me for who I am, the woman and the warrior, just as I love the man and the mask."

"So you would say yes? You would allow Bruce to be a distraction from your responsibilities?"

Diana raised an eyebrow. "Yes?" she asked, "Yes to what?" She stopped walking and turned to face her mother, letting her arms drop to her sides. "And Bruce would never be a distraction, Mother. Bruce helps me with my mission as Wonder Woman, and I like to think I help him with his in Gotham." Diana watched her mother take in her answer, before she raised an eyebrow. "And what would I have said yes to?"

Hippolyta narrowed her eyes. "Bruce wants to ask you to marry him." She watched as Diana nodded, not fully understanding her words. "He showed me the ring," she said, watching as Diana's eyes widened, finally fully comprehending what she was saying, "And as your Queen-"

"As my Queen, you banished me," Diana said, tears starting to form in her eyes. "I understood why you did what you did, and I am grateful you allowed me back, but-"

Hippolyta placed her hand on Diana's shoulder, stopping the Amazon from speaking, before she wiped the few tears that had fallen from her face. She knew Diana had been hurt, betrayed, by her banishment, but in that moment Hippolyta thought she had done what any good Queen would have. If it had been another Amazon, if it had not been Diana, she would have done it without a second thought, but that day haunted her every waking moment. She had sent her only child away, disregarding Diana's feelings just to uphold the law; she was grateful she had been able to right her mistake, even if it was years later.

"I understand, my child," Hippolyta began, her voice growing softer as the emotions she was beginning to feel began to rise to the surface. "I don't know Bruce, and maybe with time I will come to accept him, but I do know one thing: As your mother, I want only your happiness, and if that is with Bruce, then so be it."

Diana gave her mother a small smile, sniffling as she realized this was her mother's way of giving her her blessing. She may not have liked Bruce, but she was willing to set her feelings aside for her daughter. "Thank you," Diana whispered, rushing into her mother's arms, her smile growing when she felt the Queen's arms wrap around her. "You'll come to love him too, I promise."

Hippolyta chuckled and patted Diana's back gently. "For both of our sakes, I hope you are right." She watched as Diana pulled away from her, the tears now absent from her eyes, before she grabbed her mother's hand gently. "Go on," she urged, "It's late, and I should be getting back to the island. Gods know Antiope will only keep the throne warm for a moment, before she is tempted to go back out and train your sisters."

Diana chuckled and nodded, knowing the Amazon general and her habits all too well. "Safe travels, Mother," Diana said, pulling her mother into another hug, closing her eyes as she smelled the scent of her childhood radiating from Hippolyta's blonde tresses. "May we meet again soon."

Hippolyta nodded, pulled away, and kissed Diana's forehead. "Of course, my little sun and stars," she whispered, before squeezing her daughter's arms, knowing she could not wait until the next time she saw her child.

Diana entered the hotel suite quietly, careful not to wake Bruce should he be asleep. Inside it was dark and Diana let out a small sigh as she gently closed the door. She knew Bruce had wanted to spend time with her on this vacation, but she had been so excited to see her mother, she had spent more time out with her than she should have, ignoring Bruce; seeing all the lights off in the suite made her feel bad that she hadn't let him take her out to dinner like he wanted to.

She walked further into the suite, dropping her purse near the door, before she made her way through the dark room, her mother's words still ringing in her ears. He showed me the ring. Bruce wanted to propose to her, and apparently he wanted to do it soon. He had a ring already, and he had brought it to Greece with them; was he planning to do it during the trip? Or did her mother's reaction to him make him second think his decision; did he even want to marry her anymore.

She quickly shook her head free of those thoughts. She loved Bruce and didn't need a ring to be happy with him. But that didn't mean she wasn't curious. She quickly glanced over her shoulder at the closed bedroom door, making sure the light inside was off, before she made her way to the entertainment center.

Diana had lived with Bruce long enough to know where he hid things, and she knew he would never stay in a place without checking for more hideouts. She quickly rummaged through the drawers, careful not to make any noise that would wake Bruce. When she found nothing, she let out a defeated sigh and stood, before she made her way to the bedroom. She knew there were other potential places where Bruce could have hid the ring, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized she wanted it to be a secret, even if her mother had ruined a big part of the surprise.

She quietly opened the door and peeked her head inside, her lips curling into a smile when she saw a lump on the bed she knew to be Bruce. She silently slipped inside, letting the door shut behind her, enveloping her in the darkness. Careful not to bump into anything, she shuffled across the floor, letting out a small groan when her foot collided with the bedpost.

Her eyes widened as she covered her mouth with her hand, not wanting to wake Bruce, before she exhaled harshly. "I was wondering if your mother had taken you back with her."

Diana jumped, startled to hear his voice. The light near the bed flickered on and Diana saw Bruce turn to face her, a smirk on his face when he saw her eyes begin to wonder over his nearly naked body. "Bruce," she began, trailing her eyes down his body until they landed on the waistband of his boxers; the only item of clothing he wore. "I didn't know you were still awake."

Bruce sat up and shrugged, watching as she took a seat on the edge of the bed, before he rested a hand gently on her thigh. His fingers gently grazed the skin that had exposed itself when she had taken a seat, the dress she wore hiking up on her long legs as she leaned into one of the pillows situated on their shared bed. "I couldn't sleep without you," he confessed. "Besides, I wanted to ask you," he began, his eyebrow raising when he felt her muscles tense under his touch.

Was this it? Was he going to actually propose right now?

Diana watched as he scooted over in the bed, resting next to her, before he chuckled. "How was your time with your mother?"

It was Diana's turn to raise an eyebrow in confusion, as she stared at Bruce, unsure of what to say. Did he know she knew? Was that his plan all along: have Hippolyta tell Diana so she would be anticipating it every second? No, that wasn't it. Bruce loved to have the upper hand. He would not have been able to sit next to her so calmly if he knew she knew.

"It was great," she said, reaching up to pull her hair out of the ponytail she wore. She let her hair cascade down her back and over her shoulders, turning to give Bruce a sultry smile, letting him breathe in the scent of her shampoo. She heard him release a small groan, before he leaned in and placed a kiss on her bare shoulder, letting his hand wander up to the thin strap of her dress. "I really appreciate what you did Bruce." She looked him in the eye, her face softening when she remembered what her mother had said. "Did you really pray to the gods?"

He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers, as he answered. "I did." He paused for a moment, contemplating his next few words, letting his fingers gently stroke her face. He didn't smile, his lips remaining in a tight line, as he leaned in to kiss her lips softly. "I didn't think it would work, but you needed to see your mother, and I wanted to give that to you."

Diana let Bruce kiss her lips once more, gently resting her hand on his arm as he leaned his forehead against hers. "But you hate magic," she said, letting him run a hand through her wavy hair.

"I do," he whispered, "But I love you more."

Diana smiled wide, letting Bruce run his fingers through her hair once more before she let him kiss her lips again, this time lingering a bit longer. She felt Bruce's hand fall to the back of her neck, pulling her close, before she let out a small sigh. "Why the trip to Greece all of a sudden?" she asked, watching as he sighed before he placed his head on her shoulder, defeated.

"Your mother told you, didn't she?" He watched as she nodded, her smile fading as she watched his face. "And what do you think of the idea?"

"Of marriage?" Bruce nodded. "Bruce, I don't want you to feel like you have to marry me to make me happy. I love you and I am happy with you and our relationship and I don't want you to second guess anything." Bruce quickly jumped off the bed, switching on the light, before he searched the floor for his discarded pants. "Bruce," Diana said, standing from the bed as she saw him grab his pants. Was he leaving? Had she scared him off?

She watched as he walked to where she stood, the pants in his hand, before he rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a small box. He looked up at Diana, watching as she took a seat on the edge of the bed, the realization suddenly hitting her. "You were going to propose tonight," she whispered, watching as he nodded, gently turning the box in his hand as he dropped the pants back onto the floor. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Bruce shrugged. "I could have planned another proposal, but you weren't guaranteed another visit."

Diana stared at the man as her heart beat a little faster with his confession. He had thrown away all his plans to propose, something he had probably worked on for weeks, all so she could have a few hours alone with her mother. Gods, this man was truly amazing, and she loved him dearly for everything he did for her.

Her eyes trailed down to the box still settled in his hands, the corners of her lips turning up into a smile. "Yes," she said, watching as Bruce raised an eyebrow.

"Yes?" He watched as Diana's eyes glanced towards the box in his hands, before he chuckled. "I haven't asked you anything yet."

"Well then ask me," she said growing impatient and anxious.

Bruce shook his head as he continued to laugh. "So impatient," he said, before he lowered himself down onto one knee. "Diana," he began, grabbing one of her hands, "I love you, and I wish I could have given you a big and grand proposal, but I can't wait to ask you this. So, Princess, will you marry me?" He opened the box, revealing a beautiful ring. The princess cut diamond sparkled in the light, and Diana didn't realize she ever find a piece of jewelry so magnificent.

She looked into Bruce's eyes, her smile widening. She took in Bruce's attire and chuckled to herself, suddenly not caring that he was proposing to her in his boxers, in their hotel room. He could have proposed to her in a broom closet and she would have thought it was perfect. "Yes," she exclaimed, jumping into his arms. She placed her lips onto Bruce's, smiling against his lips when she felt his arms wrap around her waist.

"I think this is for you," Bruce said, pulling back from Diana just enough to slip the ring on her finger. He placed a kiss on the back of her hand, smiling when he realized the most beautiful woman in the world had just agreed to be his wife.

"It's beautiful Bruce," Diana whispered, lifting her hand to get a better look at the ring. She placed a kiss on his cheek, before she moved to kiss his lips, smirking when he pulled her into his lap. "You brought my mother here to ask permission?" she asked as she felt Bruce's hands roam over her body.

Bruce scoffed, before he placed a kiss behind her ear, watching as she shivered before he kissed her neck. Batman didn't ask anyone for permission to do anything, but this was Diana. He was going to do anything he could for Diana. "Not permission. Just her blessing."

Diana nodded before she ran her hand through his hair, listening to Bruce release a small growl as his hands gripped her thighs tightly. She felt his lips continue to kiss her neck and she knew there was no other place she would be than here with her fiance. She couldn't wait to marry this man.