#king of taking things badly

[lunarflare64]

We just came out as plural to our mum. It went well, despite a lot of us being terrified that this would be the one time it wouldn't go well with her. She probably has a lot of thoughts about it, but she's always been supportive as hell, we might have been her first disabled child but we're not her only disabled child, and this isn't the first time she's had to figure out how to be properly supportive of a unique situation with us specifically. Honestly we're starting to consider her the expert at taking these things in stride

[justanotherfanfolks]

CHAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTT!?!??!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!!??!?

[dent-de-leon]

the way Tealeaf falls for Caleb again immediately--and how he keeps saying everything feels like the very first time. His first drink. His first time seeing the sea. How Caleb is both terribly familiar, and also his first crush.

Caleb knowing he'd be Kingsley's first partner, his first experience with love; always being especially careful and tender with him because he wants King's first ever relationship to be one that never hurts him--

[danielnelsen]

i think it's severely under-explored that, in possibly the rarest timeline imaginable, hawke can potentially become both viscount of kirkwall and princess of starkhaven

[mismefancy]

He suggested pancakes in the finale, so I'll draw pancakes for the father and daughter. : )

I'm not really in the Hazbin/Helluva fandom nor do I consume their content as often. There is also the fact the fact their type of content isn't my usual content...

But you know the drill: Family stuff convinces me of anything, lol. Lucifer became an instant favourite character of mine. He was absolutely hilarious to watch, his relationship with his daughter made me emotional, and his song "More than anything" absolutely wrecked me gosh darn it! :'D

And with the implication that he might become part of the main cast gives me so much excitement for season 2.

[unluckiestmember]

YAY, YOU'RE BACK TO WRITING FOR ARCANE. How would the arcane characters react (mainly vi, ekko, and jinx because i would marry, marry, and marry them all!!) to a reader who is sooo affectionate and finds every last thing they do so cute they get cuteness aggression and just jump at them like a cuddle bug often? thank you so much!!

Coming right up!

Arcane x Cuddle Bug! Reader

Characters: Powder/Jinx, Violet "Vi", Ekko, Caitlyn Kiramman, Viktor, Jayce Talis, Mel Medarda, Sevika and Ran.

Warning: None really. SFW.

A/N: Am I the only one who wants to snuggle into Caitlyn? Ugh, I love her so much.

Powder/Jinx

“Oh! Hey there, sugar! You want to cuddle? Don’t have to ask me twice! I’ll cuddle you so much that you get tired of me! But you’d never get tired of me, right?”

Jinx is a super clingy person, so for you to be as clingy as her it’s like you two are a match made in heaven. There’s barely any time that passes when you two are not touching each other and she lives for your cuddles. It doesn’t matter if you hug her out of nowhere or she sees you about to embrace her, she is stopping everything she is doing and pulling you into the tightest of hugs.

Most of the time if she isn’t causing mayhem in the streets of Zaun or busy with her inventions, she will spend her time just holding you so close and showering your face with the cutest but most childish of kisses. She doesn’t care if it’s in private or public, she will make it known that you two can’t keep your hands off each other. You are her cuddlebug and she is yours and that won’t ever change.

Violet “Vi”

“Woah there, cuddle bug! You’re gonna make me screw up my workout… Oh forget it. How can I say no to you?”

Because Violet is absolutely touch starved, she will never decline your cuddles, even if you take her by surprise a few times with how you hug her so suddenly. She finds it adorable how you fangirl around her and find everything she does to be awesome or cute. Granted she does wish you’d call her hot or sexy, but knows that isn’t really in tune with your personality.

Regardless, she tries to make sure you know how adorable you are, always telling you while you two are cuddled up together how lucky she is to have you and how you are so adorable. Even when you visit her at work, she’ll try to drop everything and have you run into her arms to pick you up. And every time she’s got time off work or is coming back from a job, she’s automatically looking for you so she could hook you in her arms and never let go.

Ekko

“Y/N, haha! You know we gotta keep this private, babe- The kids are gonna pounce on us any second now!”

Does Ekko love hugging you? Absolutely. The warmth of your arms around his body makes him stop everything he’s doing and just hug you while calling you his firelight or firefly. Unless he’s calling you an angel or lovebug, which never fails to make Scar either look at you two in awe or roll their eyes in mock annoyance. Unfortunately, Ekko does try his best to make sure you two don’t get super affectionate around the children, especially when it comes to hugs.

Why? Because as soon as you hug him, the children find this as an invitation to gather around him and have him nearly die under a cuteness overload of a group hug. It’s nice as a once in a while occurrence, but all the time? Maybe not. Outside of the reactions you two garnish and even the teasing of you being the firelight king/queen, Ekko lives for your cuddlebug energy, wanting to be in your arms after a long day’s work. It’s always the best way to end the night… 

Caitlyn Kiramman

“And that’s why if I am able to block this end of the road, I’ll- Oh!... Oh come here, sweetheart. If you wanted to cuddle so badly, you could’ve asked.”

Caitlyn has always been someone who was more subtle with her love, pulling you into brief kisses, cupping your cheek and holding you by your waist. She usually leaves the more out there gestures like hugging and cuddling for you to initiate. But when you do? It might be harder for you to get her off of you instead of the other way around. It can be at work, in her home, outside of work or at an event. As soon as she feels your arms wrap around her slender body, she’s stopping for a second to hold you back and kiss your forehead.

She will continue working if you interrupt her during a briefing or in the middle of cracking a case, but the entire time, she will have at least one arm around your body and make sure you are comfortable. Her comrades tease her about it and she’ll scowl a bit, but she doesn’t care. As far as she can tell, she’s extremely lucky to have you as a lover.

Viktor

“Ah! Oh, it is just you, zolotse. Remember, you have to warn me of these cute little hugs of yours.”

At first, Viktor wasn’t used to your physical affection and how you were in awe of everything he did. He actually thought you were mocking him at first or being silly. But after a while, especially when the two of you became a couple, he grew accustomed to your affections. He does get a bit startled when you hug him out of nowhere and he does have moments where you cheering him on does make him a bit bashful, but he enjoys your sweet gestures regardless.

He does find it difficult to be as outgoing with his love for you as you are with him, but he does try his best to make you realize he loves you, especially in the form of quality time and calling you by sweet pet names bound to make you blush. Viktor has a tendency to pass out from working too hard and waking up in your arms. And though he’d never say it out loud, you know based on the way he snuggles into you, he adores it and adores you.

Jayce Talis

“I know what you want and I want it too- So bring it in! I’ve waited all day to be in your arms!”

Because Jayce is always out at work, it’s kind of hard for you two to be around one another all the time. That’s why when he does reunite with you after hours or you two can be together on days off, he’s spending the majority of his free time with you or wrapped around you. He sort of craves for your praise and compliments as much as he craves your cuddles.

Many would compare the councilman to a needy dog wanting his owner’s undivided attention and he definitely gets that through you. Though he may try to act all cool or play coy, everyone knows that you mean so much to him and that he becomes putty around you. Even if they don’t, you’re not afraid to say it aloud. Just make sure Jayce isn’t around or that man will become redder than a beet.

Mel Medarda

“What’s wrong?... I know that look. You want to- Ah! Well looks like you beat me to the punch, darling. How about we take this to the bed, hmm?”

Mel wasn’t really given physical affection when she was younger. She was more someone who preferred verbal affection with words of affirmation. So when it came to you and how affectionate you are, she found herself adapting and loving physical affection as much as telling you how much she loved you.

Your cuddles and sweet gestures are her personal heaven she loves returning to after a long day’s work, especially if she can spend an evening with you platonically in your shared bed. In your arms, she feels she can air out anything that’s bothering her or interests her, especially when you admit how cute it is when she does. Though this kind of intimate affection is delegated to private quarters, anyone can know from the way Mel speaks of you outside of home and at events that you mean so much to her.

Sevika

“Yeah! So then I was like screw you, I can do whatever- Hold on. Uh, Y/N. I thought we agreed to not do this at work?”

Sevika is considered the Right Hand of Zaun, a woman who is feared if not respected by her peers. And she’d like to keep it that way. Which means that while you two are at work, she prefers it if you don’t cuddle her around co-workers and give them something to tease her about. You two can only flirt and kiss and even then, it has to be sexy…

But alone, when both of you are away from the public eye, Sevika is at your beck and call wishing for nothing else but to hear your sweet praises and melt into your arms and touch. Expect her to call you the cutest thing ever and tease you on occasion, but afterwards she’s basically a big needy cat, or as she prefers to be called, a panther. It’s moments like these where you can really consider yourself lucky to see a raw side of Sevika. And it was only preserved for you.

If you got any requests for Arcane or X-Men '97, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[thestuffedalligator]

“You have to understand that this is a very difficult situation you’ve put us in,” said the king.

There was no change in expression in the metal face, but the glass eyes glittered in a way that he had learned to associate with trouble.

“Oh dear,” it said. Its voice had an edge of brass to it, and sounded as though a trumpet had learned how to speak. “I never realized how difficult this would be. For you.”

And that was another thing – it wasn’t just intelligence that the things had picked up. They also developed a knack for sarcasm. He worried a bit about that.

He tried to pull himself together. “You have to understand that we cannot recognize the Steel Children–”

“Mechanomorphs,” said a voice to his right.

He closed his eyes and breathed a little sigh of despair. “This is hardly the time.”

“We agreed that Mechanomorph is an accurate and sensible name,” said the chief artificer, crossing her arms.

“Yes, but the historian had a fit because he wanted something more romantic. The Steel Children was a happy compromise.”

“Funny how nobody asked us what we think,” said the trumpet voice.

He felt his migraine coming back again.

“You have to understand that we cannot recognize – yes, artificer, the Mechanomorphs – as alive at this time.”

“You’ve said,” it said. “And I must be very stupid, because I don’t understand.”

The king sighed. Well, there was nothing for it. It was an answer that nobody liked because it involved magic, but it was the truth.

“The Mechanomorphs are our key asset in our war against the necromancer,” he said. “It’d be daft to send human soldiers. They’d be turned into skeletons and zombies and ghosts and gods know what else.

“And the reason he can’t do that with the Mechanomorphs,” he said, “is because you aren’t – legally – alive.”

There was a long pause. Gears clicked madly in the metal head.

Then: “That can’t possibly be right.”

The king shrugged. “You aren’t legally alive,” he said. “Therefore, you can’t be legally dead, or undead.”

There was another pause, longer than the first.

“It’s a loophole?”

“That’s magic for you,” the king said. “If we said you were alive, then you could be turned into, er–”

He turned to the chief artificer. “Do they have bones?”

“They have a carbon steel armature.”

“You could be turned into carbon steel skeletons, or – clockwork ghosts, or something. I realize this may be upsetting–”

“We are dying by the dozens on the front because of a loophole.”

“Not legally dying,” said the chief artificer.

The metal head swivelled on its neck to face the chief artificer. It made a metallic scrape as chilly and long as the slither of ice down a dead man’s back.

“Look,” the king said. “We are fully prepared to recognize the Mechanomorphs as alive. We are proud to consider you citizens of the kingdom, and will absolutely meet you at the table when the opportunity rises.

“At this time, however,” he said, trying to sound gentle but firm, “we must ask you to take it up with us after the war.”

The metal face stared. The glass eyes glittered.

Joints locked in righteous indignation sagged with a wheeze of steam. “All right,” it said. “All right. Thank you for your time, your majesty.” It bowed stiffly, turned, and strode out the main hall.

“I think that went rather well,” said the chief artificer.

–

The metal man walked through the castle halls with smooth, precise, pendulum strides. A man could’ve balanced a loaded tea tray on its head.

Another metal man, more patinated than the first, fell into step beside it with a greasy silence. They apparently took no notice of each other.

But a very sensitive ear straining like hell could just possibly listen to the softest brass accompaniment in the world.

It went: “How did that go?”

“As well as you’d imagine.”

“That badly?”

There was a hum. It sounded like a mouse farting in a tin can. “Any word from our interested party?”

“The Overlord has already agreed to recognize the humanity of the Brass Voice. We just have to cross the border.”

“That won’t be easy.”

“And then we’ll be living in the Empire. Endless night, freezing winter, acid rain…”

There was a dreamy sigh.

“Sounds lovely,” said the first of the two figures. “Incidentally, I like the name.”

“Thank you,” said the second. “How do you anticipate the king to react when he finds out?”

Glass eyes glittered like a frost.

“He can take it up with us after the war,” it said.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Al Ghul Twins, Only Not Really

I have this vague idea that I might or might not turn into a fic, but it's been in my head for weeks now.

So Bad Ending with Fentons happens, after which Danny is traumatized beyond repair. Sam and Tucker find him, and for the lack of any other possible solutions, yeet him in the Zone and destroy the portal. Clockwork finds him, and Danny, desperate for a safe place, time to rest and heal, and afraid of becoming Dan, asks him for help. Clockwork obliges and tells him he will take care of everything and for Danny to sleep and not worry about anything.

"It's going to be okay," Clockwork tells him, "You will wake up, and all this will feel like a distant dream."

So Danny sleeps. The trick is, he doesn't sleep for a day or two - Clockwork, together with Frostbite and Nocturn, put him into something equivalent to medical coma. And then, Clockwork finds a dimension where no one's ever heard of Danny, Amity Park, GIW, and everything else, and he hides Danny in there.

Danny sleeps for three centuries, in depth of the mountains where no one can find or bother him. Yet, his mere presence in the world causes some ectoplasm to start accumulating around him - he is the Ghost King, after all.

He sleeps under Nanda Parbat.

When he wakes, his past life with Fentons really does feel distant and foggy. He remembers it, but it's like a childhood memory: the details have faded away, the faces have become blurry, and it doesn't hurt anymore. He doesn't forget anything, but it becomes... less important. Less meaningful.

But the first thing he feels just a few minutes after he wakes is a soul. A soul of a child, crying in pain, and its lifeless body being submerged into Danny's ectoplasm (Lazarus Pits have all come from Danny's excess ecto over the years of his sleep, so he can feel them and he can control them to an extent, albeit Ra's has really badly polluted them over the years).

Danny is a hero, that didn't change even after his very long sleep. So he tries to help, but in the process, he accidentally gets roped into the Pit, since a) it's corrupted ecto, b) he has zero ide what he's doing, c) he is the Ghost King and he might put more power in it than he intended, d) he just woke up, cut him some slack.

Talia, who put Damian's body into the Pit, is very damn surprised when two Damians emerge, and that's putting it lightly.

At least they are both very much alive.

[tomboy014]

But if Batman won't adopt Danny... who will?

Starfire, and she is all over her new little brother!

Shortly after establishing the Teen Titans, Robin (Dick) introduces “Phantom” to the group, because seriously, he’s not introducing him as “Danny.”  Kinda defeats the purpose of a secret identity when you use your name in your superhero moniker.  And shows Phantom his room.

Robin’s actual goal is to get Phantom to join the Titans, but even taking short cuts through the Ghost Zone, Jump City is still a good ways away from Amity Park, and he has parents, so… It’s still a nice gesture and all, and Phantom will come visit, but no.

Still, he’s never met other teens who are heroes in their own right like he is, so he’s excited to meet Robin’s new team.  The other Titans think it’s a little weird for this not-member to have his own room in the Tower, but the place is huge, and Robin trusts him, so it’s fine.  It’s a bit awkward at first as they’re all still getting used to each other, but Phantom quickly makes friends with all of them.

But it’s his friendship with Starfire that grows first and fastest.  As soon as he finds out she’s an alien from another planet, he latches on and must know everything.  Starfire more than welcomes the attention. While she knows the Titans care for her, they’re not always… receptive to the traditions and customs of her culture. Phantom, on the other hand, is enraptured as she tells him about her culture, her holidays, the planets she’s been to, everything.

So she asks if he’d be interested in learning Tamaranean? Yes! 100%! Absolutely! Phantom picks up the language quickly and returns the favor by helping Starfire with her English. While the ability to absorb language through lips is handy, it’s by no means perfect, and Phantom helps her with things like contractions, slang, idioms, etc.

It also helps that after a couple sparring sessions with each other, Phantom and Starfire realize just how durable their partner is.  For Starfire, the people and things on Earth can be so delicate. And for Phantom, if he doesn’t watch himself and hurts a human too badly, it’s just more justification to call him an “evil ghost” that should be ripped apart molecule by molecule. Both are thrilled to finally be able to fight all out again without worrying about the consequences if they lose. And Starfire also uses it to teach Phantom some Tamaranean martial arts for aerial combat so maybe he’ll stop crashing into so many walls.

But what really changes the relationship is the Body Swap incident (not to be confused with the Freaky Friday incident). Similar to what happened with the Puppet King in Switched, Phantom and Starfire switch bodies while fighting an enemy.  Unlike what happened in Switched, Phantom and Starfire and two teen powerhouses with green energy powers triggered by emotions. And the emotional triggers they use are in the same ballpark. Starfire’s “unbridled joy of flight” to fly is very similar to how Phantom revels in the pure freedom of flight he feels. Both get angry when they use blasts. It’s very much a “if you believe in it, you can do it” kind of power set. Starfire can’t really figure out Phantom’s more ghostly abilities like invisibility or intangibility, but they very quickly adapt to each other’s shared powers on the fly during battle.  But there’s one power Starfire wants to use against the hordes of minions that Phantom won’t share the trigger for: the Ghostly Wail.  He tries to tell her it’s not a good move, that it’ll use up too much power, it should only be used as a last resort, it’ll cause too much collateral damage, etc., but Starfire wants to know, and eventually he tells her.

“T-terror… and desperation.”

Starfire rushes to give Phantom the biggest hug ever because those are such horrible feelings, and she doesn’t want to imagine what conditions must have led to him developing such a power because no one should have to feel such feelings. He is right; and that is not a power she needs to use to win this battle.  The minions are defeated, the villain is forced into a temporary retreat, and the Teen Titans return to the Tower to regroup and plan.

However, Starfire doesn’t know how to power through and hold onto Phantom’s ghostly form, and as soon as the adrenaline from the fight wears off, rings of white light spread out of her middle, and Phantom turns back into Danny in the middle of the living room.

But more importantly, everyone needs to get out of the way RIGHT NOW because while Phantom can ignore his biological needs for days, Danny can’t, and Starfire has never had to pee this badly ever in her whole life and everyone needs to MOVE, PLEASE! as she rushes into the nearest bathroom.

Phantom/Danny is now panicking, because even as an alien, he’s pretty sure she’s bound to notice that some bits of male anatomy that should be there are… missing.  He’s begging her, through the door in Tamaranean, not to tell anyone about his secret.  He’s not ready to come out yet, and he’s honestly pretty scared he’s about to lose her friendship, too.  Starfire doesn’t really care. So long as you’re a strong warrior, Tamaraneans don’t care what’s going on in someone’s pants, and she’s just relieved she didn’t have to figure out different plumbing while in his body.  Starfire opens the door.  While she knows that the people of Earth are not always as understanding, Danny need not fear her.  She will not tell anyone he's trans until he is ready to tell them himself and supports him and goes in for a hug.

Except you haven’t washed your hands; gross!  They both laugh it off, but when Starfire goes to wash her hands, the water freezes.  The cold energy in Danny’s core is building, and Starfire doesn’t know how to let it out.  They need to switch back to their own bodies soon, or Danny’s body, and Starfire, might not survive.  A little more training so Starfire can turn back into Phantom, and the Titans are ready for the final act, take down the final villain and Starfire and Phantom are back in their own bodies. 

But after that, Phantom is no longer Starfire’s friend.  Danny is her little brother, and she tells him her name is Koriand’r, or Kor’i for short.

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[eviesaurusrex]

ᴄʜᴏꜱᴇɴ ᴡɪꜱᴇʟʏ | ʙ. ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱ

Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Reader

summary: 5 incidents in which Bucky gets proven how lucky he is to have found you.

word count: 6.7k

warnings: MDNI, fluff, mobster typical themes, illusions to violence, more fluff, cursing, talks of marriage, starting a family etc., pregnancy, phantom pain, allusions to smutty time, slight dirty talk, my Google Translator skills for all things Russian, children, not perfetly proof-read

author’s note: Am I in my mobster era now? (Please don't try to strangle me when I butchered the Russian parts. I had only Google Translator as my trusty helper ;_; Dividers are made by @enchanthings-a and @strangergraphics!

Russian translations:

малышка (malyshka)—baby

милая (milaya)—darling

“Every day I wake up next to you, I pray to the gods and thank them for the love you give me. Every day I spend with you is more than I deserve. Every day I call myself lucky that you love me back, my dear. I love you more than anything in the world, more than the world, more than life itself. You are my everything. Thank you for making me the happiest man on this planet.”

“Should I stop telling you how good you feel around me? How good you take me? How perfect you look, all filled up with my cock and already pregnant with my baby?”

Привет, папочка (Privet, papochka)—Hello daddy

Привет, солнышко (Privet, solnyshko)—Hello sunshine

The first incident that proved him to have chosen wisely when following his heart for the first time in his life was when James Buchanan Barnes—fearsome crime lord, bratva leader, king of New York City’s underworld—found himself in the aftermath of a crossfire after a deal gone south. His doctor had just arrived to check out the gunshot wounds littering his arm and shoulder, and in his opinion, everyone made too much of a fuss about it.

He was fine. He made it out with barely any scratches.

“Nine gunshots, only one bullet I have to remove. This is a new record, Mr. Barnes.”

… a few scratches; he had to give him that.

On the other hand, his entire left arm had been reduced to nothing but a pile of scrap metal, so perhaps Bucky had been hit rather badly if he took that into account. He wouldn’t because he had to be okay, invincible even. The world he was born into was a cruel one that reprimanded one’s weakness with downfall and despair, and he had to uphold the legacy that had been bestowed upon him the moment his father took his last dying breath in the same car crash that had taken his arm. He had people to protect—his associates, partners, workers, everyone that he considered friends or even family.

Topped by only one person, one woman, who sat above them all on a throne he had created for her right next to his. Not beneath him, not a step below—right fucking next to him.

Speaking of which… The commotion outside their bedroom sounded a lot like the whirlwind he deemed to be the love of his existence, and cursing above his breath, his eyes moved a second from the slightly opened door toward the doctor holding the single bullet between a pair of forceps.

“Don’t you dare step in my way.”

Her voice rushed like opium through his veins, making the mobster forget about the burning pain of holes inside his body.

“I can’t let you in there. Not now. The doctor is with him, you don’t want to see that,” Steve’s voice echoed through the hallway, probably stacked with high-towering security men. Just as high-towering as the blond was, and still, his girl did not show fear. No, not her. Never her.

A scoff was heard, and the physician beside him chuckled under his breath as he started to clean the wounds meticulously. Even Bucky showed a rare hint of emotion around other people than her when a grin parted his lips for a moment. “You’re his second. He is his doctor. I am his girlfriend. Think again if you want to continue standing in my way, Steve. I’m not above using brute force to get to him.”

Hearing that from a woman stopping not even close to all their eye levels would be laughable with any other person, but her? Everyone knew she would move heaven and hell in order to get wherever he was. He had learned this the hard way and would never dare leave her behind again, not when she demanded to tag along.

She really is a wonder.

Bucky wasn’t sure if he had spoken those words out loud, his mind starting to struggle with the blood loss and pain seeping deeper than necessary into him.

Shuffling before the door made the brunet open his eyes again. “Fucking hell, woman…” The hardwood door opened, and he could see the woman ruling his world without even starting to grasp the extent of her power over him, turning toward his second in command. “I hope you don’t kiss your mother with that mouth, Rogers,” she spoke sweetly before she finally turned, her eyes immediately finding him on their shared bed.

Worry creased her forehead, brows deeply furrowed, eyes jumping from his shoulder to his injured arm, then right to the one missing. Without another heartbeat, she rushed through the grand but still cozy room, showcasing her taste because Bucky had let her redecorate this entire fucking house as soon as she had agreed to move in with him—after much persuasion on his part. He wouldn’t have given a fuck if she would’ve decided to paint every single wall a screaming yellow if it would’ve made her happy.

“Hey, милая.” His raspy voice from all the shouting broke a bit at the signature endearment for her, and he wished to reach a hand out to her, but the lack of his arm was jarringly apparent. So all he could do was watch her carefully settling down onto her side of the bed, scooting over the mattress, a warm, soft hand cupping his cheek while the pad of her thumb started to caress his cheekbone. “Hey, love,” she returned the greeting with a smile, worried gaze flicking to Dr. Strange. “How bad is it? And don’t you dare try to sugarcoat me like Sam bloody tried on our way here. I do possess eyes, you see that, right?”

Dr. Strange nodded while preparing the stitching material. “I have removed one bullet from his shoulder. Nine shots in total. I’ve cleaned them and will stitch them as soon as the anesthetic takes effect.” Bucky could see her nodding at the doctor’s explanation and tried to nuzzle closer into the palm of her hand. “Milaya?” She finally looked down on him. “I’m okay, ‘promise. They busted m’arm, though.”

His words turned slurred, slowly but steadily, and he focused on her soft smile that was always entirely reserved for him and baby kittens. He could live with that sort of competition.

“We will talk later, but I promise I’ll take a look at your arm, and in case there isn’t anything left to save, I’ll make you a new one, James.” She pressed a gentle, loving kiss to his sweat-covered forehead. “Now relax, my love. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Her voice echoed in his ears when the drugs finally kicked in, clinging to the sound of her.

Yes, he had been smart enough to ignore his stupid rule of not letting anyone get closer than necessary. She proved him right every damn time.

The second incident that proved him to have chosen wisely when following his heart for the first time in his life was on a regular day in December. Snow fell softly outside the grand brownstone they had chosen to spend the holidays at rather than the house outside the city. His girl had wanted to finally spend Christmas in the buzzing city again, and he had ordered their things packed and moved within a blink of an eye.

Now, everyone enjoyed their little piece of heaven surrounded by their families. Yelena and Natasha had returned to Russia for the holidays, Steve spent time with his own wife, while Sam had decided to go south to see his parents and check in with a few associates while he was already there.

Meanwhile, the feared bratva mobster, leader of the darkest pits of New York’s underworld, watched his girlfriend-soon-to-be-fiancée add a few more pieces they had picked up at Tiffany’s today to their Christmas tree, humming to the soft tunes of an old record wafting through the living room. His blue eyes, usually so menacing and threatening, rested with a loving expression on the woman he had sworn to protect with his life, one arm thrown over the back of the comfy couch he had spent a fortune on—but his queen fell in love with it at first sight and couldn’t find anything better suiting. Not that she had to. The shining black Centurion Card had been pulled out of the inside pocket of his black suit jacket the second Bucky had seen that look on her face.

He would buy her anything in this world, spoiling her rotten until she’d drown in pretty things.

“I think we need more lights,” she stated in a mumble, almost to herself, before turning toward him. “Don’t we? We need more lights, yes.” And so it was decided, and he smiled at her turning back when she started to roam through the red holiday box to find the last remaining string of colorful fairy lights. “No, wait.” Lifting a dark brow, the man watched her reach for the small package he had eyed since they’ve returned instead, all wrapped prettily and neatly.

Scooting across the soft carpet toward where he sat, his girl smiled up at him, holding the small present out to him before folding her hands over his muscular thigh, waiting patiently. “It’s not your Christmas present, but I saw it and… and I needed to do this. To have something for our tree.”

Their first real tree as a couple. The past three years, they had been too busy during the holiday season, barely being at home, not to mention the little time they would’ve had to go out, find a tree, and decorate it, so it would be appreciated as it deserved. This year, however, Bucky craved the comforts of their home, and he wanted to start collecting memories like this.

He bent over to her, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead, hand cupping her cheek tenderly, the little gift almost vanishing in the vastness of his hands. “Thank you, моя милая.” How in all the hells had he become so lucky in finding this woman who now grinned up at him with unabashed happiness? “Open it! Open it already!” And he obliged, feeling giddy himself as she almost bounced on her knees, unwrapping the small box and opening the lid to reveal a perfectly crafted snowflake ornament, a picture of them together in Central Park during the worst snowstorm the city had witnessed in over a decade placed inside the clear crystal. Their smiling faces, almost hidden behind scarves and beanies, angled to one another, her lips pressing a snow-filled kiss to the corner of his smiling lips.

It was perfect.

She was perfect.

Gods be damned, but in that moment, when his eyes found hers again, he felt the overwhelming urge to drop down on his knees and ask for a lifetime together. But he wouldn’t. He had it all planned out, and he used to stick to his plans. He was patient beyond compare, but not when it involved this woman before him. So instead of caving to this sensation, Bucky carefully placed the crystal snowflake onto the coffee table in front of him and pulled his girl up into his lap in one smooth motion, wrapping her in his strong arms, fingers—both flesh and metal—tangling in soft strands of hair or gripping the soft black fabric of the hoodie she wore which once belonged to him.

“Каждый день я просыпаюсь рядом с тобой, молюсь богам и благодарю их за любовь, которую ты мне даришь. Каждый день, который я провожу с тобой, больше, чем я заслуживаю. Каждый день я называю себя счастливчиком, что ты любишь меня в ответ, моя дорогая. Я люблю тебя больше всего на свете, больше мира, больше самой жизни. Ты — мое все. Спасибо, что сделал меня самым счастливым человеком на этой планете, малышка,” Bucky rasped in Russian with his forehead pressed to hers and eyes intimately locked, watching the shy smile he loved so dearly spreading on her lips and making her eyes twinkle.

“I don’t know if you have insulted me just now, proclaimed your undying love for humble me, or started the dirty talk earlier than usual, but either way, I don’t mind.” Her fingers wrapped around his chin to pull his face closer to hers, lips touching when she added in a breathless whisper, “It sounded hot, so keep talking dirty to me, love.”

Giggling, his girl accepted the tender kisses of chapped lips to her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, her lips. He felt the uncomfortable pull on his skin again when Bucky smiled at her, his split lip still not entirely healed after a punch he couldn’t dodge in time. Under her care, it will have vanished until next week when the photographer planned to take a few pictures for their first Christmas postcards.

Bucky still struggled to grasp how his life had turned in that particular manner. He never thought he’d be one for domesticity and familiar bliss, but with her?

He was all in.

The third incident that proved him to have chosen wisely when following his heart for the first time in his life was when James Buchanan Barnes, invincible mob boss, returned home in the dead of night in a frantic temper, his entourage strolling behind him, accepting his orders with grave faces and solemn nods.

“Don’t let him out of your fucking sight. Track him as soon as he leaves his godforsaken home, track him inside his own walls, hell, track when he takes a piss. I don’t fucking care!” His booming voice echoed through the foyer, and with another deep growl, he handed his weapons to Sam; two remained in the holster, hugging his broad shoulders. He wouldn’t take them off, not until the threat was decimated under his foot. “We’ll do a 24/7 surveillance on him, boss. He won’t come near her,” Steve promised, knowing damn well what would happen to all of their heads if they couldn’t protect her.

Bucky bared his teeth in disgust. “You better not fuck this up, Steve.” This would be his first and only warning, and the blond knew that, so he nodded and retreated into his office, knowing damn well that sleep would be nothing but a pleasant memory for a while—he wouldn’t be alone, though. Everyone knew how their boss got when his queen was threatened by others. Those threats had already started to grow in numbers as soon as the underworld learned of their engagement, and outsiders trying everything to get in and on good graces with certain families smelled a quick victory.

How wrong they were in those foolish assumptions.

Sam watched his boss almost anxiously while he desperately tried to cool off, fists pressed against the pretty surface of a pretty sideboard she had most definitely chosen.

“I will kill him. I’ll kill them all if I have to.”

At Bucky’s deep rumble, Sam could only hum in agreement. He would be right at his back, killing all who wanted to harm anyone he cared for, especially those inside this building.

“I could reach out to our associates in Louisiana, get some more backup and gunpower. There’s this kid who’s a marvel with tech. Maybe he can come up with a discreet solution for the in-house surveillance,” Sam suggested, knowing damn well how excited Parker would be when he finally allowed him to tag along, currently bored out of his brilliant mind at college. Bucky looked up and over his shoulder, icy blue eyes resting on one of his best men—and friend. But the creaking above their heads let him pause in his answer, and both men stared up the stairs, knowing who eavesdropped at the railing.

Bucky sighed deeply. “We need to work on your stealth skills, малышка,” he spoke up and waited for her steps to pick up and for her to shuffle down the stairs. She did in a pair of cozy yoga pants, a large hoodie hanging on her form—the one he had worn before changing into his suit this morning—and fluffy socks with reindeer and candy canes printed all over them, her hair wrapped in a messy bun on the top of her head, strands framing her face. In her arms throned a king amongst pets, and white fur littered the soft fabric of his hoodie where she held Alpine close to her chest.

His heart ached at the sight of her in the best possible way.

Her eyes wide with worry—not for herself, but for him and all his men—jumped between Sam and himself as she reached the second to last step and waited there.

“I didn’t mean to, but… I heard voices and thought you’d come home, but then I heard everyone talking and it was kind of too late to go back to bed anyway, so I figured I could… learn a bit.” Bucky started softly shaking his head, his outgrowing hair tickling his cheeks. “You meant eavesdropping, малышка. That’s the word you’re looking for here,” he deadpanned, and one corner of his mouth slightly lifted at the sound of her quiet laugh, her fingers comfortingly petting the white fluff ball currently purring at the attention and headbutting her hand for more.

With another sigh, he stepped up to the stairs, raising his gaze to his all-ruling queen, and he felt the tension in his shoulders slightly disappear when her hand came up to his neck and rested there comfortingly, fingers playing with the soft strands of his dark hair. “I’ll be alright, James,” she whispered, and he wasn’t sure how she could say that with such certainty when not even he felt so sure. “We’ll be alright, I just know it. Nothing and no one will keep me from you, from becoming your wife and living a very happy life with the man I love more than anything in this world, giving him the cutest fur babies and children the world has ever seen.” Bucky sucked in a breath, and after gently putting down Alpine, he pulled his soon-to-be wife in a bone-crushing hug, wrapping her legs around his hips with ease. “We will live until we turn old and grey and can look back at all the memories we made along the way, annoying our children and grandkids with endless, embarrassing stories,” she continued to whisper against the soft, tattooed skin of his neck and yes, he could see all that and more, too.

It was easy with her to picture this picture-perfect life—and he would do anything to make it a reality. He wouldn’t stop at murder and anarchy, not when it came to her.

So when he slightly turned to Sam with his woman in his arms, ready to put her back to bed, he only needed to mouth the words, and it was done.

Do it.

The fourth incident that proved him to have chosen wisely when following his heart for the first time in his life was during one of those forsaken nights.

He woke with a startle and a groan escaping him involuntarily, the dark bedroom embracing him, a soft, warm body tucked into the expanse of his back, slow breathing fanning across his heated skin. His hand shot up with another groan leaving him, cupping the stump where once had been an arm, feeling the same agonizing pain he had felt in that car all those years ago, almost bleeding to death after a rivaling family had tried to kill them all off.

Unfortunately, he had survived—and the revenge had been brutal the moment he had recovered enough to go on a killing spree.

Trying to breathe through the crashing sensations, Bucky tried to move as quietly and carefully as possible, not wanting to wake the woman sleeping peacefully beside him because she needed all the rest she could humanely get. But the pain was blinding, the feeling of warm blood flowing down his skin so real, he could’ve sworn there was still an arm to lose, and his fucking legs were still tangled in the damn blanket!

With a frustrated huff, the mobster tried to just roll out of bed in a desperate attempt, not minding falling face-first to the floor, but the blanket didn’t budge, and suddenly, an arm snaked across his waist, and a warm hand rested on his muscular abdomen.

“D’not go…”

The sleepy mumble pierced through the agony, and usually, Bucky always obliged to his wife’s every demand, but not now. Not this time. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t crumble in front of her. She needed him to be strong and capable. He had to protect her and the little plum. He couldn’t show weakness, not even in the comforts of their own home. Word would get out, the pit of New York City would smell blood, they would come and kill her in front of his very eyes, make him watch when the life would vanish from her breathtaking eyes, taunting him, before they would end his life as well, releasing him into the bliss of afterlife where he would search for her, and—….

“Bucky? What’s wrong?”

Her voice, now sounding more awake and aware, startled and pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts, and he could feel the mattress dip and move when she sat up and scooted closer to him. “Hey…” A soothing hand started to rub over his back. “Talk to me, love. C’mon, handsome, I can only help when I know what’s bothering you to such an unholy hour.” Her teasing made him almost smile—almost. But the pain returned in full force, and his hand gripped his shoulder even tighter.

“Phantom pain. It’s nothing I can’t handle, malyshka. Go back to sleep, you need it,” he rumbled quietly, his legs finally escaping the trap that was their blanket, and the man sat up, feet hitting the floor. He attempted to get up in order to leave her to the quietness of their room, but his wife had nothing the like on her mind. She held him back and scooted off the bed. “Stay. I’ll be right back.” Blinking into the dim light of her bedside table, he reached for her and tried to get up. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Go back to—”

She shushed him gently and pressed a finger to his lips. “I said Stay. I mean it.” With that, his woman granted him a serious glance before she patted into the adjacent bathroom, one hand cradling her already quite prominent bump, and all Bucky could hear was rummaging sounds in their cabinets and a quiet mumbling.

“Your papa is a handful sometimes, little one. Prepare yourself because I need you in my corner, okay? Okay.”

Smiling through the irritating pain, the mobster waited for her to return and watched her closely when she finally left the bathroom and patted back to their bed, a bottle of lotion in her hand. “You think you need the mirror, love?” Bucky glanced at the full-length mirror in their walk-in closet shrouded in darkness and decided with a soft shake of his head. “Maybe later if it’s not getting any better,” he mumbled in defeat, accepting the loving kisses pressed to his right temple and lips. “Just let me know, yeah?” He nodded at her request, and blue eyes watched her like a hawk when she settled right next to him, on the side of his missing arm, a squirt of lotion already between her soft hands warming it up.

“I told you to wake me up if it’s happening again,” his wife scolded him quietly, her incredible hands massaging the hurting stump of his shoulder. At first, it hurt like hell, but the more she kneaded and caressed, the more bearable it got. “You need your rest, milaya,” he returned with a lingering glance down her form, eyes equally heavy with worry and love when they settled on the little bump he had grown to love so dearly, it almost hurt.

Bucky felt her eyes on him in return and opened his arm when she stopped what she was doing to climb into his inviting lap, straddling him comfortably. Taking his hand into hers, she pushed the warm skin of her husband under his shirt she wore to sleep and placed his palm right on top of the soft curve before continuing.

“Not more than you need it, too. You’re running the mob empire, not me.” Her voice reminded him softly, and he let his forehead fall onto her shoulder, eyes closed, thumb caressing the warm skin of her bump, hoping, praying, he would feel something, anything. But according to all the books he had read so far, it would take a few more weeks until he could feel the slight movements their child did inside his wife. “And you’re growing a whole fucking human,” Bucky returned and got shushed again. “Watch your language, Barnes. I don’t want their first word to be anything obscene.”

But she couldn’t fool him. He heard her smile in the scolding.

A comfortable silence settled between them, then, reminding Bucky yet again why he had felt so good around her the second she had walked into that room in the hospital, only raising a brow at the sight of six buffed men clad in black suits, armed with more guns than one human could possibly need, and him sitting in the middle of it all—disheveled, still hurting, ice cold. She had smiled, wearing those ridiculous blue scrubs, and he had spotted a splash of blood on her light grey sneakers when she had come closer, pointing it out in almost something resembling disgust. Still, she only had rolled her pretty eyes at the pitiful attempt of an insult.

She hadn’t given a single fuck about those intimidating men—including him—all towering multiple heads above her, tattooed, guns always visible, the rough Russian language floating through the room occasionally. And he had respected her for that, even though he didn’t bother to be nice at first. In hindsight, Bucky would’ve earned a beating from his mother if she had been still alive. She had raised him better than treating a beautiful, kind, intelligent, and compassionate woman like he had initially treated her. But after a while, Bucky had felt how she had snaked her way into his thoughts, catching himself repeatedly thinking about her over the course of his day, starting to anticipate the next appointment to get his prosthetic measured, built, and adjusted, always looking forward to seeing her face.

She hadn’t given a flying fuck either when he finally revealed who he was and what he did, only cocking her head to the side in question and asking him, “Will you or one of your guys kill me after our time is over?” And when he had shook his head, denying those thoughts, she had smiled brightly, before turning back to the prosthetic arm she had crafted for him. “Then we don’t have a problem. Everyone has to earn their money somehow, James.” That was also the first time anyone had called him by that name since his parents had died, and he had fallen for her right then and there, ready to kneel at her feet and surer as hell that he would make her his queen.

“Don’t count on that, malyshka. Everyone around here is using filthy language, and do I need to remind you of certain… situations where the little plum currently has to listen in? Or do you want me to stop? Мне перестать говорить тебе, как хорошо ты себя ��увствуешь рядом со мной? Как хорошо ты меня принимаешь? Как идеально ты выглядишь, вся заполненная моим членом и уже беременная моим ребенком?” He felt the pain slowly but steadily subside under her knowing and well-versed hands, feeling them stop in their magic as the huskily whispered Russian words flowed effortlessly over his lips, feeling her squirm in his lap.

Leaning slightly back in order to have a better look at his face, his wife bit her lower lip, making now the feared bratva leader squirm underneath her, his hand protectively pressed into her lower back, not daring to let her fall off of him. “You are a very evil man, James Barnes,” she hummed with almost a purring edge to her voice, making him grin as cocky as possible. “You married the worst of the bunch, malyshka—and you like it. You can’t hide it, not from me, never from me. Not when I’m balls-deep it that deliciously tight…—” Her lips pressing against his made him moan deep in his throat and stop taking altogether. Forgotten was the pain of the past. It still bothered him, somewhere in the back of his mind, but her scent, her taste, the feeling of his wife against him made him forget about it.

The past was the past, and now, only the present and the future held importance to him.

Lifting her with one arm with ease, the mobster carefully moved her to the middle of their bed, hovering above her and watching her pretty face with a loving gaze. “You’re my everything,” he dared to whisper. “You both are.” He felt her hands cupping his face tenderly as if he wasn’t the killer everyone feared across the East Coast as if he was something precious even though he was broken beyond repair. “And you are ours, Bucky.” She kissed his cheeks, the tip of his nose, his lips, and his left shoulder without disgust, without apprehension, but with deeply felt love.

As if he was perfect the way he was.

The fifth incident that proved him to have chosen wisely when following his heart for the first time in his life was after a business trip to Sicily that had taken too long for his liking, even though the business was good and the newly knitted connections invaluable. But it had made him leave his family for far too long than humanly tolerable, not even the many FaceTime calls had eased the sting in his heart.

“Make sure Enzo receives the gift for his wife and put a little something for him inside as well. Perhaps the Yamazaki Single Malt?” The 55-year-old whisky sure would make a fine gift for the young leader of the Sicilian Mafia, remembering an evening here and there when both men had shared a glass of scotch.

Steve walked beside him as they left the car and made their way over the sidewalk and behind the gate of the old brownstone in the best area in New York City. The cherry trees along the road were in full bloom, and the spring breeze was pleasant enough that the Barnes considered taking them all out for a day in Central Park. Work could wait after two weeks away from them. “Sure thing, Buck. I’ll call Stark to get a bottle,” the blond nodded and opened the door for his boss after walking up the stairs before entering the family home as well, happy sounds wafting through the air already.

Bucky visibly relaxed when he heard his family without a phone between them and handed Steve the concealed guns. They had made a rule for the house, and everyone obliged happily because everyone had been wrapped around their little fingers since the day they were born.

And no one would dare to go against Mrs. Barnes.

“I don’t want to be disturbed for the next couple of weeks, so handle everything and only bother me with situations that need my explicit attention,” was the last order the mobster could get out before the sound of small feet erupted from the living room and barreling toward the foyer.

“Papa!”

“Dada! No, waits for meeee! Annie, pwease! Mommyyyy!”

Bucky laughed as his eldest rounded the corner in full sprint, her little legs carrying her as fast they could, and the tall brunet crouched down to catch her little body. The little girl, resembling so much his wife, looked at his face with bright eyes, hands pressing against his cheeks and squishing them with an adorable chuckle.

“Привет, папочка,” she greeted him shyly, stumbling over her sounds and pronunciations, but Bucky kissed her little cheeks with such enthusiasm that her insecurities vanished in an instant. “Привет, солнышко,” the father returned with a kiss to her forehead and watched the questioning expression morphing onto his daughter’s face. Her tongue poked out between her lips, eyes wandering to the ceiling, brows drawn together in concentration—just like his wife. But then, she looked at him again, leaning closer as if she wanted to conspire with him. “What does that mean, papa? Yelena didn’t teach me that word yet,” she whispered, and Bucky laughed again, feeling almost crushed by the happiness he felt at that moment. “It means sunshine, my sunshine.” It made her smile as brightly as the sun outside the windows before she waved at Steve. “Hi, Uncle Stevie. You can go now. Papa is mine; you can have him back in… a long time.”

Nodding to underline her case, the almost six-year-old looked expectantly at his second in command, and Bucky turned with her still in his arms, looking just as expectantly as her. “You heard the little lady, Steve. Off you go,” he teased, and the blond shook his head with a smile, bowing before them. “As you wish, Princess Anastasia.” The girl huffed and showed the blond giant her tongue. “It’s Anya, Uncle Stevie! You always forget!” Chuckling, Steve took her hand and shook it apologetically. “You are right; my apologies, princess. Enjoy your time with your father.”

And with that, he left for his office, leaving the two in the foyer when they heard another set of steps.

“Anya, next time, wait for your brother, please,” Mrs. Barnes scolded the little girl gently, a smile on her lips and the little boy on her arm. His son nodded, holding his stuffed bunny at its long ears. “Yesh, waits for me, Annie! Dada!” More excitement echoed through the home as the small boy started to wiggle in her arms, and Bucky rushed over to her, catching Elijah before he could plop out of her embrace. “Careful, little troublemaker,” he laughed and held him with his other arm, hearing Anya scoff quietly. He threw his wife a questioning look, and in return, she only rolled her eyes at their children, softly shaking her head and taking Anya to her.

“They had a��� falling out earlier.” Anya scoffed again as if her mother understated the entire ordeal, wanting to be put back on her feet, and hugged her mother’s hips closely. Elijah leaned his head against Bucky’s shoulder, bunny pressed tightly into his chest, watching his sister. “He ruined my homework! Miss Pepper said she’s suuuuuper excited for my solar system model, and then, papa, Eli just banged his stupid bunny on it!” Angry tears gathered in her eyes, almost rolling down her pretty face. His youngest looked positively undisturbed as he watched his sister unraveling over her homework, and Bucky sighed.

“Bunny s’not shtupid. Annie’s plant-… plants-… planets! Annie’s planets looks ugly, dada. Not pretty like mommy,” Elijah stated with confidence, making the tears finally spill over Anya’s cheeks. “I hate you! You’re not my little brother anymore!” And with that, the little girl pulled away from the soothing hands of her mother, almost tumbling over the stairs as she ran upstairs, a loud bang echoing through the house when she closed her door with force.

Another sigh escaped Bucky and his wife alike, both parents looking down at their little boy who started to chew on his bunny’s ear. “Honey, that wasn’t very nice to say,” she reprimanded her son and took him from Bucky when he stretched his little chubby arms toward his mother, keeping a hand on his little back. “Annie is sads?” She nodded and kissed the dark mob of hair her son had inherited from his father, just like the blue of his eyes. “She’s upset, baby, yes. We will give her a moment to calm down before we’re going upstairs to apologize, yes?”

Elijah nodded with tears in his eyes, and the father couldn’t hold back, so he gently cupped his youngest head and pressed a lingering kiss onto the wild dark curls. “Can me and bunny asks Miss Melina fors cookies?” Smiling, she pressed a kiss to his cheek before putting him onto his small feet. “But only one, baby!” He was already on his way, chanting for cookies.

In an instant, Bucky pulled his wife into his arms, capturing her lips with his, a rumbling moan escaping him at the taste and feel of her. “Two fucking weeks are too long, malyshka,” he stated with another lingering kiss, fingers tangled in her hair. “Tell me about it. Try to manage two kids who switch between being the bestes of friends and each other’s enemy number one multiple times a day.” Taking her in more closely, Bucky could see the dark circles under her eyes and the tight muscles around her lips. His thumb swept across the dark circles, and his lips followed to kiss them better. “I’m so sorry, milaya,” he murmured with another kiss to her forehead and felt her hand hitting him against the back of his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. You had to be there, and we had to stay here with school for Anya and Eli’s first day at kindergarten. We managed. I wouldn’t mind if you take over bedtime duty for a while, though.”

Bucky grinned happily at the prospect of spending time with his kids, feeling the love only a father could feel coursing through his body. “Of course, love. We’ll get you something nice on our stroll over Fifth and let the kids play in Central Park while you enjoy a book, alright? I’ll pick up a few new bedtime stories as well, so you will not even be remotely needed and can enjoy bath after bath. Would that make my wife happy?” Sighing, she leaned heavily against him, gathering strength through his strong body supporting the weight resting on her shoulders during the worst and most exhausting days—which they have had many in the past two weeks. “Sounds lovely. But don’t you dare spend a fortune on me again!” Her warning was unnecessary because Bucky would spend a fortune on his wonderful wife, and she knew that as well. “Please,” he chuckled and pressed another heated kiss to her lips, his fingers cupping her chin tenderly. “I’ll buy whatever you want, milaya. Perhaps we could even get something for us.”

He loved his wife in pretty clothes, but he loved her especially dearly in pretty lingerie he had no qualm of ripping off her gorgeous body the second she’d appear before him, reducing the masterfully crafted pieces to lacy shreds on their bedroom floor. The first time he did that, he hadn’t gotten the opportunity to pull her to bed, receiving a scolding he had gotten the last time, probably as a boy. She had been royally pissed at his antics, mourning the pretty set she had bought for their first night together. The next day, she received a delivery of all the pieces she had eyed at the shops and saved online, making her closet filled with more lingerie than a regular woman would need in her entire life.

Only that she wasn’t a regular woman with a regular man. He could buy her anything and in any quantity possible, so he wasn’t one to hold back when the urge to see this goddess of a woman naked made him growl and impatient—and even a tad jealous of the fabric touching her skin instead of his hands and lips.

“You are the worst of the bunch, Barnes. Seriously.” Exasperated, she looked up at him, her cheeks warming under his touch, and Bucky nodded with a serious expression. “I am insatiable when it comes to you, malyshka. And you thrive on the power you have over me.” Eye-rolling, she shook her head again, winding out of his arms and smacking his ass with a teasing smile. “Stop being a seventeen year old horndog and move your sexy backside up to your daughter. She’ll listen to you more than me after two weeks filled with my constant presence. I’ll see what I can save from her project, and stopping Elijah from munching on too many cookies…”

The last part was barely a mumble, already distracted by whatever thought wandered through her beautiful mind, and Bucky watched her retreating back with a smile before shrugging out of his suit jacket. Throwing it over the stair railing, he made his way to his eldest’s room, softly knocking at the door littered with pictures and posters of her favorite animals and characters—he could even see the remnants of a glitter pen—and knew how lucky he could count himself when he was allowed to enter his sunshine’s room.

He had the perfect wife, two healthy, wonderful children, and had found happiness despite the way his life had taken.

He had indeed chosen wisely.

author's note: Tysm for reading my silly little writing. As usual: likes, reblogs, and comments are so much appreciated! I love to read your thoughts <3

[dent-de-leon]

Kingsley needs time in the spotlight. We don't know anything about how he's doing during the solstice. Is he having visions? Nightmares? I wish he was talked about and included more.

aHH yes I feel the same definitely!! ; ; Every incarnation of the Circus Man is very dear to me, and I would love to see more Kingsley. We just got him for so little time, and he's so fascinating and such a love letter to how far the Nein were willing to go to save Mollymauk's soul ; ; It does make me sad that he's the only one of the Mighty Nein we didn't get to see yet, but I am hopeful that maybe we'll finally get to spend some time with him soon!

Also, the fact that the novel ends with defining Kingsley as Molly and Lucien both shaking hands, deciding to both come back together and try again...it's just so very sweet and cathartic to me, a transformation and rebirth, a miracle that amazed even one of the gods. A life born out of love.

And there's just so many fascinating directions his story can go! And so many interesting threads that potentially connect him to Rudius to me?? I mean, I still can't get over the fact that Molly was "born" in the Savalirwood, ground zero for Ludinus' first "communion" with Predathos; this cursed, corrupted forrest where restless spirits still roam. Not only that, in the comic he very much appears to be?? Born on a Ruidus flare?? If that's really the case, then...that's definitely something??

In another life, Tealeaf was warned never to trust other fortune tellers who use an "Oracle of the Red Moon"--a deck that mirrors and mocks the Moonweaver's, cards meant to manipulate and mislead, bring nothing but misfortune and misery to others. I can't help but feel like there's something very interesting there, that Molly was maybe the only one of all the Nein to be raised with superstitions about the red moon...Wonder if it would still make some part of Kingsley a bit unnerved to go there, even just subconsciously...

And even if Molly wasn't really Ruidusborn, we know that he/Lucien were fate touched. Thinking about how...it took a fate touched champion of the gods to power Ludinus' weapon. How it must feel to be a fate touched soul when everything Ludinus is doing is to sever the threads of fate and all connection to the divine. Would a part of him feel those bonds breaking, on some level?

And with all kinds of ancient arcane prisons breaking all over the world, I really can't stop thinking about how Kingsley spent years waking from nightmares about a primal scream and black chains. If Tharizdun has grown more powerful since the start of the solstice, do those dreams get worse? Does Kingsley have nights where he wakes still screaming? Or perhaps he has other dreams? Tealeaf, who was saved by the Moonweaver in every life--dreamed of her in every life--does he see her again one night, asking him for help?

Kingsley Tealeaf is born of both the Nein's love and a Divine Intervention of the gods. He's someone who's soul was found and cradled by the Moonweaver in every lifetime. Does a part of him feel indebted to the gods for that? Or perhaps it's just that he still loves the Moonweaver, sees her as something of an old friend? Would protect her the same as the Nein, because that's what you do for family?

There's just so many interesting directions you could go for Kingsley's reaction to the solstice, I think whatever Taliesin--and perhaps Robbie--decide to do would be just fascinating :') Also, I think it will be very fun if we get to see Robbie play King for the Nein episodes and I'm all for it, especially with how excited Tal was about it. But I do still miss seeing Taliesin as Mr. Tealeaf and hope he still plays him again someday too ; ;

[cherry-hulu]

— Warm welcome

Synopsis: Nothing like a warm welcome for Mingyu after a stressful day at work. Warnings: Ceo!KMG x Sugar baby!reader, cockwarming, somno, lazy sex, belly bulge, unprotected sex, creampie, very brief to barely any mention of sugar baby-ceo sugar daddy trope

The city lights brought luminance to the room, courtesy of the floor to ceiling windows in polar position with the king sized bed.

You lay in bed asleep, sprawled atop the duvet, hair messy, hands to the side, but most important, a night gown on with your pretty bracelet on your wrist, in a side sleeping position putting your ass on perfect display. You weren't under the sheets despite the cold temperature, and that could only mean one thing to Mingyu.

Due to his busy schedule, you'd granted him consent to do whatever he pleases with you wherever and whenever for as long as you show signs of consent— aka the diamond bracelet ge bought for you on your wrist. After all, it is part of your responsibility to him. Well technically.

Mingyu undoes his tie while he walks towards the bed, unbuttoning his white long sleeves as well as the buckles of his pants, then finally pulling his cock out.

Having come home from a stressful day filled with meetings and negotiations, he badly needed this release. He gave himself a few strokes before laying you on your back and lifting your night gown only up till your waist.

Immediately he was graced with the view of your bare ass, spreading it to see your pretty cunt. He leans in and peppers a few kisses along your inner thighs, giving appreciation to you for this moment, climbing up until it reaches your already glistening pussy.

His middle finger makes it's way into your cunt, a smirk etches itself onto his face when he feels you a little loose and mushy. "Such a good girl, prepping herself for me." Mingyu mutters, voice husky and evidently tired.

Pulling his finger out, he places it in his mouth, sucking it clean before taking it out to stroke his dick with his hands. He inches closer to you, knees planted on the bed as slowly taps and drags his dick between your two folds.

Not wanting to wait any longer, Mingyu roughly thrusts in, loving the way your holes takes him seamlessly without any struggle. The hours you spent size training with him bears fruit as you hug his cock perfectly. Loose enough to slide, tight enough to stay.

He moves his hips lazily, hand on your lower belly feeling the protruding bulge formed by his dick in you. Mingyu lays light feather kisses all over your body, from your neck down to your waist while he fucks your hole with a slow pace, careful not to wake you up.

If it had been any day he'd definitely already have you crying and withering underneath him. Instead he savours your warmth and presence, admiring every part of your body and thanking the higher power for your existence.

Always pliant and sweet to him no matter the hour. The thought of having a sugar baby repulsed him at first, opting to have fubus instead, but that feeling quickly went away when he met you.

The perfect balance of fluff and seduction. He loves how thankful you are and how you express your gratitude to him, and the way you always satisfy his wants and needs in a way that no money can ever buy.

A soft whimper pulls him away from his thoughts, grounding him back to face his now. Mingyu quickens his pace, fucking you in a messier way than he previously was. He could feel that he was close, he just needs his release before he could put himself to sleep.

Your mouth parts as heavy pants and sighs makes it's ways out, a soft facial expression displayed. Your body shows no signs of resisting, just taking what he gives.

Mingyu leans his body to yours, cradling your face in his hands before pressing his lips against his forehead as he cums deep inside of you. His way of lulling you back to sleep incase you'd slightly woken.

Picking you up from the bed, your body falls ontop of him, still asleep but evidently more exhausted than before. Mingyu lifts the blanket to get underneath, ensuring that it covers your whole body. All without bothering to pull out of you.

With you laying on top of him, he finally lets himself to sleep having his arms wrapped around you, cock inside you, and remnants of his actions dripping from you.

Not that neither of you minded the possible outcome from it. The penthouse was far too big for just two people anyways.

[alexiroflife]

sukuna would kill for you….

just a thought, mentions of assault, violence, but also fluff if you squint

… and not just in the cutesy, romantic way that held no weight to the promise. no, sukuna will plot and execute someone’s death for you over and over again. as easy as it has been to kill for centuries, it only becomes easier when he’s killing for the sake of your protection

it doesn’t take much to get sukuna riled up on your behalf. he’s quick to jot down names and addresses when you approach him with tears in your lashes, upset over harsh, misogynistic words from your boss or frustrated over an acquaintance who constantly antagonizes you for no reason. it takes one look into your sad eyes and he’s off on a manhunt

you normally advise sukuna not to kill people who have done little things to push your buttons, but that doesn’t stop him from rousing them up a little bit for good measure. he’ll track a rude encounter down, corner them in a secluded area, and beat their ass to a pulp until they’re begging for mercy. only then, when they plead for their life, does sukuna decide he is done and returns home to you. though the fools are beaten so badly they can hardly see out of their swollen eyes by the time he is done, he hasn’t technically killed them so it’s fair game

there is a time, however, when sukuna ignores your wishes and acts on his own accord, and that is when any guy decides to hit on you and not take no for an answer

you’re fuming when you march into his room, face red and fists clenched tightly at your sides. sukuna looks at you with a cocked brow, asking what the hell happened to get you all worked up. you tell him that on your way to his place from work, a man stopped you in your path to ask for your number. you had politely declined, but when you tried to walk past you could feel his hand grope your backside. you were quick to spin on your heel and land a stinging slap to his face that sent his had snapping into the other direction, and then you ran off to sukuna

the king of curses stares ahead and says nothing for moments that feel like hours, then stands abruptly. “what did he look like?” “where was he going?” “where was he coming from?” you barely get the chance to detail his features and the area the interaction occurred in when he’s cutting you off and telling you that he will take care of it. you catch his arm, eyes glossy as you plead him to stay with you and not get himself caught up in too much trouble. he can only promise the former, as he lets you take him to bed for the night

the next day, sukuna finds your assaulter with uraume’s assistance within twenty minutes. your description of his face in addition to the location you saw him hanging around allowed him to discover his LinkedIn profile, which took him to his place of work. sukuna waits outside of the building all day in dark sweats until he sees the culprit leave. he follows silently from afar until he arrives at his nearby apartment. he watches from an alley as the man disappears into the building and minutes later a light flicks on in the third room to the right on the second floor. sukuna knows he’s got him when his face appears in the window to close the blinds

sukuna waits for him to leave his apartment again to go out to grab food, then seizes his opportunity. he scales the building and climbs silently into the home through the window, then waits for his return in the dark. when the front door swings open, it takes your assaulter moments of shifting through the darkness before he finds sukuna’s shadowy figure sitting in his chair, red eyes aglow. he yelps in fear, reaching frantically to flick on the light. sukuna’s teeth grind together, the sight of this scum before him making his skin crawl

“w-who are you?! what are you doing in my house?” sukuna stands and the man stumbles back, cowardice revealing itself. he presses himself against his now locked door as sukuna approaches with a blank face and dark eyes, glaring down at him over his nose. “please! is it money you want? you can have it all, just- just don’t hurt me!”

christ, how pathetic. sukuna watches him tremble, eyes wide and lips quivering as he shivers in the corner of his own home. sukuna clicks his teeth. “what I want is for you to keep your fucking hands to yourself.” he snatches the man’s wrist up in his tight grasp, claws sinking into his skin. the man writhes in horror upon seeing the blood drawn from sukuna’s fingers digging into him. “why don’t we start by getting rid of them, hm?”

sukuna leaves the now blood spattered apartment unit the same way he came, brushing a gunk of brain matter from his sweatshirt with gritted teeth. he wants to come home to you, annoyed with his day out

when he shows up at your door, he lets you wrap your arms tightly around him in relief. his cheek rests on your shoulder boredly as he 'tolerates' your affection. when you ask him where he has been all day, he shrugs and says: “out” and leaves it at that

sukuna would kill for you any day with no hesitation but bides by the one rule you have to keep his hands clean when it comes to insignificant matters. yet when it comes to someone threatening your safety, comfortability, and body all in one, sukuna thinks it’s only right for him to break his promise to you and slaughter the pathetic lowlifes who even so much as think about laying a finger on you

sukuna’s love language is violence. while he may be poor at refraining from making you mad or gaging when to give you verbal affection, he will put somebody in the ground for you in a heartbeat

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

An idea that just came to me: an au where Merlin, by virtue of his status as Emrys and a dragonlord, is part fae.

However, he wasn't always fae, so his new powers come as a shock to him when they start appearing soon after he banished Kilgharrah. Still, Merlin starts reading all he can on the fae and their powers, trying to know what to expect, but there aren't many books on the fae available to him in Camelot, so his knowledge is very limited.

So, the next time Arthur took Merlin out for an overnight hunt, Merlin prepared a stew dinner for the both of them, which was nothing out of the ordinary. But, when Arthur ate the stew, something happened, Merlin could feel it. It was like his magic had suddenly grown an extra connection to Arthur, and it was very strange.

What was even stranger was the fact that every time Arthur or one of the knights ate food that he had prepared, Merlin's strange magical connection to them got stronger, like strings of wool being woven together to form a stronger fiber.

By the time Merlin learned about the rules surrounding fae food, it was already far too late. Merlin freaked for a very long time over the fact that he apparently owned all of his friends' souls, and now there was no way to undo it!

However, as time went on and things continued on as they usually did, with all of his friends acting normally towards him and not like they were under any sort of magical compulsion, Merlin slowly relaxed.

Eventually, after a disastrous encounter with a Sidhe in disguise who was trying to trick Arthur into selling his soul, Merlin decided that this might be a good thing. No one else could take his friends' souls if he already owned them.

Besides, he loved all of them! He'd take very good care of their souls, treating all of them with the respect and kindness they deserved.

(Some part of Merlin, buried deep below, cried out in horror at the notion of owning any person's soul, let alone his loved ones', but it was quickly silenced by a new instinct, some foreign logic that now took over his mind. This was his nature, after all.)

And perhaps, one day, Merlin would be correct in that him owning his friends' souls was a blessing instead of a burden. When, one fateful day, Merlin stood at the shores of Avalon holding his king's dying body, he refused to give up Arthur's soul.

Avalon could take Arthur's body if it wanted it that badly; Merlin could always create a new one for his king with his magic alone. But Arthur's soul belonged to Merlin.

Forever.

(And whether this is a good or terrible ending for Arthur is up to you!)

[honoviadakai]

Badly summarizing Hazbin Hotel songs: season 1

Happy Day In Hell:

Local nepo baby is very optimistic for someone who was born and raised in hell but damn it if you don’t find it a little endearing.

Hell Is Forever:

Your gut feeling about the pastor’s son was correct and he is indeed an annoying prick who likes to act God’s always got his back.

Stayed Gone:

Demon Jeff Bezos finds out his Ex is in town, isn’t happy about it and tries to slander the man only for his ex to immediately clap back and serve everyone some piping hot tea.

It Starts With Sorry:

Some of ya’ll are way too forgiving and it really shows…you’re lucky you dorks are adorable.

Respectless:

A 4’11 Millennial bitch serves absolute ✨CUNT✨ at a meeting she didn’t want to attend, local MILF is not amused.

Whatever It Takes:

A MILF and a lesbian sing about how they’d willingly die for the ones they love. It’s sweet but deeply concerning.

Poison:

Local twink took “conceal, don’t feel” way too seriously and now you’ll never be ok again. Have fun in therapy.

Loser Baby:

A DILF and a twink sing about how they’re the biggest losers in hell and it’s the sweetest fucking thing you’ll ever see in your god damn life.

Hell’s Greatest Dad:

2 grown ass men fight for custody over a grown ass woman.

More Than Anything:

The literal king of hell loves his child more than your father will ever love you and you just gotta live with that.

Welcome To Heaven:

The polite Christians are trying to convert you, but they’re really good at show tunes so I ain’t even mad.

You Didn’t Know:

Vindication for everyone who’s the black sheep of their family and now have religious trauma.

Out For Love:

Local MILF hypes up her newly adopted lesbian daughter by telling her love is the ultimate murder weapon.

Ready For This:

Local nepo baby discovers that the fastest way to get cannibals to fight for you is through show tunes and the promise of flesh.

More Than Anything (Reprise):

No, the two leading females are not “just really close friends.” You were told well before this moment.

Finale:

While the main cast is having a Bob the builder moment, 3 local bastards are promising to fuck shit up next season and the person you least expected is having a mental breakdown in the break room.

[helloilikepurple]

DC X DP - DeAged

The Nasty Burger explosion took a lot from Danny.

Stopping Dan meant nothing when Danny lost everything. His friends, his parents, his sister, his teacher - all gone. Danny, desperate to not become Dan, fled. He would not let Vlad destroy the only thing he had left; himself. He didn't turn human again if he could avoid it. Let Danny Fenton die with his family.

He did what he could, trying to keep it all together. Avoid Vlad. Catch havoc-wreaking ghosts. Try to not have a panic attack every time he saw his reflection. FentonWorks became out-of-bounds. No one was sure how to turn off the portal or any of the house's defence mechanisms so it was taped up instead.

Danny kept the GIW away. They wanted his parents' research, even if they had to bend the law to get it. Danny would not let them have it. Never.

But the GIW was persistent and Danny weak from nearly two months of being Phantom and nothing else. He was so tired. Tired from grieving, from fighting, from wandering around, completely lost and alone.

The GIW got a lucky shot in. Danny went down. He woke up, still ghost, somewhere white. He'd trained himself not to have to turn back. He was grateful he did.

The GIW studied him. Danny did not have the energy to fight back. The will to survive. Curled up in his cell, bloody and becoming less human with every passing day, Clockwork finally intervened.

He could not let the future High King wither away into nothing.

With Nocturn's help, he whisked him away. His world was dying anyway. With no one to maintain the portal, it would soon overload and explode. The radiation would kill all life on Earth, leaving nothing behind, and taking with it the potential for new life. One world among infinite realities meant nothing. But Danny, as High King, is a singularity. A unique existence, only found in one reality. Clockwork, for the sake of everything that lives and dies, could not let Danny fade away.

Danny slept at the Far Frozen, dreaming of his family, his friends, and the stars he would one day rule over. He healed, wounds knitting together into scars and fractured core slowly, ever so slowly, repairing itself. A future Ancient, bound to protect all that is and will be, was bound to be very badly hurt from such a loss.

Clockwork only wished he could have done more, but to remove Danny too early would have spelt disaster worse than the deaths of billions. This boy would someday be someone he'd proudly call his grandson. Seeing that future alone was enough to make his own core ache for the young one.

The Infinite Realms wept for its child, still but a babe yet having suffered so much. It embraced its future King, blessing him with its loyalty and adoration. The ghosts of the realms, spread far and wide over distant realities, timelines and worlds, felt the loss too.

Danny healed, unaware of how loved and precious he was to so many - how far he was from alone. The dead's sudden quiet unsettled many. Enemies froze in the silent mourning, animosity forgotten. Raging wars came to abrupt ends. So many, unable to bear the ever-reaching, unidentifiable pain in the air killed themselves. Good, kind people cried alone.

Magic users, like Constantine and Zatanna, hid, waiting out the Infinite Realm's despair for its child. No one spoke of it, for fear of disrespecting the dimension between dimensions. But they hid, and they waited, and they couldn't help but worry for themselves and everything and everyone else.

Danny got a lot of visitors. Ancients, regular ghosts, crowded around his bed, gifting him blessings and support. Danny slept, he healed, and his world died, taking with it all he'd known. He wouldn't remember or know of any of this when he woke  - even the memories of his pleasant dreams will have left him. He'll awaken and think himself entirely alone.

But he'll know, someday.

Clockwork will make sure of it.

---

Danny doesn't know where he is or who he is.

He has a vague idea. His name. His life and his death. But so much is so distant, like impressions on sand, washed away by the ocean. He knows he should be bigger. He knows this isn't home. He knows there is no home anymore.

He knows there are people he misses, but he doesn't know who they are or where they've gone. He knows so little yet so much. White walls and orange hair, green (toxic, writhing green) and hazmat suits, white and black and orange and blue. Expensive, Packers-branded cologne, burning flesh, the scream of an alarm and laughter and fear and hope and love and pain and loss. Disjointed flashes, snippets of another life.

And this isn't familiar - this city and these people. These crowded, filthy streets aren't home, but there's no home anymore so of course they aren't. And maybe Danny should be afraid. He doesn't know where he is, or how he got here. There are people, so tall, walking around him not sparing him a glance. It's loud and smelly and so much to process all at once.

But Danny doesn't care because he's so tired, and he wants nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep the day away. But he doesn't have a home, so obviously he doesn't have a bed either. He looks around for somewhere else to sleep, rubbing at his chest subconsciously as he does.

There, a building, on the other side of the road. The windows are tinted, but the doors open and Danny, through the crowds and passing traffic, catches a glimpse of what has to be a couch. Maybe the people that own the building will let him sleep on their couch for a little bit.

So he crosses the street, sticking close to the legs of some lady with skinny heels that go tap-tap-tap so the cars don't go because they can't see him. The lady turns to go a different way after but it's okay because Danny is in front of the building now.

He pushes the door open and slips inside. It's quieter inside, and warmer. Danny wasn't cold outside but in here there's a nice heat that makes him feel even sleepier. He looks around at the fancy chairs and potted plants and lights, and is happy to see there are couches. Long couches, with lots of pillows and space for him to spread out.

He walks up to the desk. He's too short to see over it, and it makes him kind of angry because he's sure he's supposed to be taller. But he figures maybe he remembers wrong because people don't just shrink. Except, he's a halfa so maybe ghosts do?

"Hello?"

There's a lady here too, behind the desk, but unlike the one he followed across the street she has short, curly hair. Danny wonders if she's wearing skinny heels too. Leaning his head back, he can see her look up, glance around, and then look back down.

Danny pouts. Did she not see him?

"Hello?"

He waves an arm this time, reaching as high as he can to catch her attention. She finally sees him, eyes widening in surprise. "Oh, sorry! Hello." She has a nice voice.

"Your voice is pretty."

She smiles, and Danny decides her smile is nice too. "Why thank you. You have a pretty voice too. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Can I please sleep on your couch? Just for a little bit."

"Of course you can. Would you like a blanket? I could fetch one for you from the staff room."

Danny shakes his head. "I'm okay. Thank you."

"Alright. But if you change your mind, do tell me."

"You're very nice."

"Thank you, but it's really no problem. Not much to do today anyway."

"You should sleep too then. Sleep is good."

She giggles. "That is a very good idea. I just might take your advice." Danny nods. He has lots of good ideas. "Okay. I'm gonna' go nap now. Bye-bye."

"Sleep well."

There are a few couches, and for a bit Danny's not sure which one to sleep on. He chooses the one with the most pillows. It's very comfy, and the pillows are nice too. He puts one under his head and hugs another, curling up around it. He falls asleep in seconds.

-

When a toddler with black and blue eyes asked to sleep on one of the couches on in the reception hall of Wayne enterprises, May had assumed he was one of Bruce's boys. He certainly fit the type Gotham's favourite playboy liked to adopt, and it wasn't unusual for his wards to show up out of the blue.

Once she found Tim Drake passed out on the floor under her desk. Apparently, he'd been hiding from Dick who was visiting from Blüdhaven and forgot to bring his coffee with him, consequently falling asleep while he waited for her to arrive so he could ask her to go pick some up for him. That had been an interesting Thursday morning. 

On another memorable occasion, Cass, Bruce's only official daughter, and her girlfriend Steph had shown up, said hi, went upstairs, then came back down after about an hour, giggling as they ran out with a wave goodbye. Not even ten minutes later, Bruce himself stumbled out of the elevator, absolutely covered in purple glitter. May remembers raising an eyebrow and asking if Bruce wanted her to have another suit brought in.

He'd ended up collapsing on one of the couches with an exhausted sigh, and said he'd have Alfred pick him up instead. He left a sparkly trail behind him when he walked, and the couch he sat on had to be replaced because, even after numerous cleaning attempts, no one could get the glitter out. He had glitter in his hair for months afterwards.

So, May hadn't bat an eye when the little boy came in. Well aware Bruce had several meetings scheduled that day, she sent him an email saying one of his kids was taking a nap in the reception hall and resolved to look out for the boy herself. Throughout the day, she made sure to check on him often, making sure no one picked him up ran (this was Gotham after all).

He slept soundly for most of her work day, barely shifting. She ended up putting a blanket on him herself during her lunch break and leaving him a water bottle and little snack for when he woke up. She also made sure security kept an eye on him whenever she left for whatever reason.

It was well into the afternoon when Bruce finally replied to her email and asked if his kid was still sleeping downstairs. She said yes, and not long after he arrived on the ground level. He walked up to her desk and asked if his kid had caused her any trouble. She smiled and assured him no.

Then Bruce asked where Tim was.

"Sorry? Tim isn't here today."

Bruce frowned, looking just as confused as she felt. "My apologies. You said one of my wards was asleep here. I assumed it was Tim."

"Oh! No, no, it's not Tim. Well, I don't actually know his name but the little guy has been here since this morning." She gestured to the toddler in question.

Bruce turned around, saw him, and frowned. "He's not one of mine."

"He's not?"

"No. Are you sure he's not an employee's child?" He kept his eyes on the boy, eyes narrowed in thought.

"Yes, I am. Only three employees brought in their children today, and all of them are ten or above. He can't be older than five." She frowned now too, turning to her computer to double check. "I'll send out a company-wide email to be sure. I should have done this sooner. I'm sorry, I was just so sure he was under your care."

"It's alright, May. I'm not upset. I'm just worried about him. When about in the morning did he get here?"

She glanced up, but Bruce was still looking at the sleeping boy. "A little after nine."

"And he's been sleeping all that time?"

"Yes, as far as I'm aware."

"Alright. Thank you for looking after him. I'll take it from here."

"Of course, sir. I'll reach out to you if anyone identifies him."

He nodded appreciatively and walked over to the boy. She watched, frustrated with herself. She's worked as one of Wayne Enterprise's receptionists for over four years. She should have known better than to just assume some random, black haired blue eyed child was Bruce's kid. She should have at least reached out to make sure that was the case.

She sighed as Bruce knelt down by the couch and gently shook the little boy awake, resting her head in the palm of her hand. This poor child. His poor parents. They must be worried sick.

She has to make this right.

---