WHY Is This So Hot 🥵

“probably a highlight of my career.”

Relative Dating Part Eighteen

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Pairing: Indiana Jones x Reader

Rating: M

Notes: Welcome back to the latest garbage fire!

The artifact mentioned in this chapter is a fake one.

Warnings: Cursing; period-typical sexism; period-typical expectations of women; some angst; fluff

Summary: It’s been three years since she left him to spend his last night alone in Cairo—three years of living in New York; three years of half-heartedly wondering what might’ve been; and three years of wondering if she, wherever she is, thinks of him, too.

“I don’t want a lot of tears tomorrow.”

“Then don’t cry.” She gives him a sly look, even as his eyes narrow in irritation at her.

“I meant from you,” Indiana clarifies.

“I won’t cry. I’m not leaving Cairo empty-handed.”

“Right,” He drawls, eying the black Abyssinian kitten in the carrier in her hand.

“Isn’t she cute!”

“You name her?”

“Bastet, of course.”

“Of course.”

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      𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘; 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚊𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝟷𝟸𝚝𝚑

  ✧ summary ─ bucky has finally found a family that he deserved so much, and he is not letting it go any time soon. 

  ✧ pairing ─ tfatws!bucky barnes x reader

  ✧ warnings ─ softness, fluff, so much fluff, kissing, pet names, veery light angst, found family <3, happy ending, alpine and amber are the cutest, bucky deserves everything, FLUFF, oh bucky being the asshole that he is btw lol

  ✧ a/n ─ ‘TIS THE FINAL PART. i can’t believe this is the last part *cries ugly*. thank you all so much for being here with me on his journey. thank you for cheering, getting horny and angry with me while this series updated throughout the months. thank you all so much for your nice comments and asks about this series. i really hope you like the ending and that i did justice to bucky. thank you <3

series masterlist ─ previous part

It was almost a month later when Bucky told you that he wanted to take you to Louisiana. You were there when Sam told him to bring you around for the cookout, but you didn’t expect Bucky to take him up on that offer this quickly. You knew that he was protective over this little family you have created together, that he wasn’t ready to share it with the world yet, so it came as a surprise when he told you about it post-coital, laying in the bed all naked.

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Reblog if you will forever miss this majestic look

Sebastian Stan in The 355

Did it Ever Really Matter? (3/?)

Pairings: collegehockeyplayer!Ari Levinson x female reader (Levs x itty bitty)

Warnings: ANGST- so much angst (I’m sorry!), explicit language, mean girls, feelings of low self esteem, broken heart, mention of physical violence (female against male), Cappy being an ass, flashback scenes (must be 18+)

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: angst was not my intent for these two- well not this much angst. I’m sorry!

This is not beta read. All mistakes are my own.

Levs x itty bitty: hockey AU

Lucky Charms: hockey AU

"Yeah, I kinda just snapped" you grimaced before taking the to-go cup from the barista and nodding a thank you, "I just..." you blew out a heavy exhale.

"Well you are my new favorite person and I'm just sorry I missed it" bug beamed from ear-to-ear, "it's about time somebody gave that doofus a black eye," she almost looked giddy as she accepted her drink before stepping away from the coffee cart in the direction of the arena.

"I've never punched anyone before... well... other than Levs and it was always playful and he's a brick house" you smiled, gaze dropping to the ground as you felt your cheeks heat.

"Um... right?" Bug giggled, I thought Barnesy was a beefcake... but Levs? Holy hell. What's that like?" She raised her eyebrow suggestively.

"I wouldn't know" you sighed, shoulders slumping a little as you took a sip of the coffee bug offered to buy you after finding out about your tipsy tussle with the hockey captain.

"What?" bug stopped dead in her tracks as she arm barred you, "I thought you and Ari were... dating?"

"No" you felt a lump building in your throat, "we... I don't really know what we are... we've been friends forever and we made this stupid deal to take it a step further... to... you know... when he scores on the ice. But he hasn't since... and Cappy thinks it's my fault."

"What?" bug made a face, "oh, that fucking meatball..." she grumbled to herself, shaking her head.

"Ari's just so superstitious and I..." your voice cracked with emotion.

"Hey... no... y/n... stop!" bug said, pulling you in for an awkward side hug, "I know we haven't known each other long, but even I can tell how head-over-heels that slab of beef is for you. And he actually seems like one of the good ones."

"I guess" you sniffled as you continued on towards the arena.

"Oh... before I forget" bug reached into her bag, pulling out a folded up t-shirt, "it's to promote the adoption drive and the calendar... it has Lev's number on the back… he already paid for it… he wants you wearing his number, that’s gotta say something…” she wagged her eyebrows at you and you took it, rolling your eyes with a warm laugh.

“So… you wearing Cappy’s?” you asked bug.

“Not exactly” she smirked, holding open her coat to reveal the “Team Cappy Team Literally Anyone Else” shirt she was wearing.

“Oh my god” you snorted, shaking your coffee a little too hard as it spilled over the rim, “that’s amazing! Did you have that made?” you asked, sipping the spilled coffee off the lid.

“No” bug tried biting back her smile, “Crappy had it made for me.”

“You like him” you smiled softly at your new friend.

“I’m really trying not to…” bug frowned, apologetically.

“Don’t” you reassured her, “he’s actually a good guy… or he used to be at least.”

“I don’t know” bug shook her head, taking another sip of her coffee.

“I think you’re good for him” you offered, “maybe he’ll stop being such an ass with you…”

“Well if he’s an ass again you have my full support in giving him another black eye” bug giggled as she nudged you with her shoulder.

"Thanks” you smirked with a playful eye roll, “when is the calendar shoot, anyway?" you asked nodding to the adoption drive t-shirt in your hand.

"Next week" bug sighed, "and everything has to go just right... we won't have enough time to redo any shots before the photos have to go to the printer..."

"I'm sure it will be fine" you smiled, "do you need any help?"

"Thank you" bug smiled at you, "I think we’re OK... clover will be there and the photographer has 2 assistants that are amazing... Cappy said he would be on his best behavior and the rest of the guys are being surprisingly cooperative."

"Even Shea and Storm?" you couldn't believe it.

"Even Shea and Storm" bug smirked.

"How?" you wanted to know what sorcery bug held over these guys.

"Told them they'd get to see boobs" bug laughed.

"You're showing them your boobs?" you snorted with laughter.

"Hell no!" bug laughed, "I'm going to have Cappy do it... he's got a good set of man boobs..."

You shook your head laughing as you pushed the door to the arena open.

"I gotta go find Levs" you told bug, "save me a seat?"

"Sure" bug smiled, waving as she turned in the direction of the stands.

"Hey, bit" Levs called out as he hockey stopped in front of the boards, taking his helmet off and ducking to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

"How's your hand, slugger?" he teased. You brought your hand up with a cringe, the small knuckles littered with bruises from last night.

"I... I'm sorry" you couldn't meet his gaze, totally mortified, "he just... god... he's such a fucking asshole, ya know?"

"Trust me... I know" Ari's exhale was heavy as he gently took your hand, bringing it to his mouth and ghosting his lips over the knuckles with soft kisses.

"How ya feeling?" you asked, changing the subject as you tugged your hand away, still embarrassed at last night’s outburst as a kaleidoscope of butterflies bloomed in your belly.

Another 3 games had passed leaving Ari scoreless and cranky.

"Good... I think" he shrugged just as a puck banked off the boards and slide in his direction. Levs turned and lobbed the puck back towards the net- missing by several inches.

"He was making 'em before you showed up" number seven said, sporting a dark shiner.

"Fuck off, Crappy" you grumbled.

"Yeah... whatcha gonna do? Give me another black eye?" Cappy snorted.

“You see bug’s shirt yet?” you goaded.

Steve narrowed his eyes at you before he turned in the direction of student seating- scanning the stands for bug.

"Enough, Cap" Ari warned as Cappy shook his head, skating away.

"Don't let him get to you" Ari said, turning back to you with a smile. But you’ve known Levs long enough to know that the smile was forced. Ari was in his head and Crappy was making it worse.

"But what if he's right?" your voice cracked with emotion.

Levs shook his head, putting his helmet back on and skating towards the goal. He whistled to Barnesy, signaling for a puck and Bucky shot one to him.

Levs turned back, making sure you were watching as he angled his stick back, a slap shot cracking over the ice when the puck sailed towards the empty warm up net. The puck pinged off the post and missed.

Your eyes prickled as you watched Ari miss two more times. Blinking back the tears you left without saying goodbye- trying to make your way to the bathroom before you burst out in tears.

You stood sniffling in a stall when you heard them. Straining to listen as your heart hammered in your chest.

"I knew it... the entire time" Kimmy insisted. You could see her through the crack in the stall, she was leaning into the mirror while putting on lipgloss.

"You think they were fucking the whole time?" another girl asked.

"Oh, I know they were" Kimmy scoffed.

Wrong.

"What a slut" her friend said, "she probably fucks the whole team..."

Wrong. They were all wrong. You hadn't slept with anyone on the team. Not even Ari.

"Well... take him back" another friend said, "he wasn't hers to begin with... and besides you're hotter."

A fresh wave of tears spilled as the mean girls cackled, leaving the bathroom and no doubt going to find Ari.

You pulled another handful of tissue from the toilet paper roll, feeling sick to your stomach and utterly sorry for yourself. You should just leave. How stupid could you be... if Levs hadn't scored yet did he actually really want to?

And what had Crappy say last night?

"You took one of the top scorers on the team and nutured him. Give him his balls back, tt!"

That's when you punched the smirk right off his stupid face.

What did Steve Rogers know? You mattered. Levs told you so himself.

After taking a few more minutes to compose yourself, you sucked it up and made you way back towards the ice- knowing that Ari would want your usual send off for good luck.

You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw him skating around carefree on the ice as Kimmy and her friends cheered him on. Ari came to a stop in front of Kimmy as she reached out grabby hands and he dropped a puck to her.

You rolled your eyes when she kissed it for good luck and tossed it back on the ice. Your chest tightened as you watched Ari reach out with his stick and take the puck.

You silently chastised yourself for hoping he'd miss as he lined the shot up, his stick cracking over the puck as it zipped across the ice- practically burning a hole through the net.

"Gooooooooaaaaaaaaaal" Cappy cheered obnoxiously as Kimmy and her friends bounced and clapped. Steve hooked the puck from the net and shot it back to Ari, he moved to shoot it again before Kimmy said something. Ari hesitated for a moment before picking it back up and handing it to her.

You couldn't hear what Kimmy was saying but saw the way her friends giggled as Ari leaned in, Kimmy holding the puck up to his lips before pulling it away and pressing a kiss to his mouth at the last second.

Your heart sank, the instant bitter taste of bile rising up your throat as you blinked back a fresh wave of tears.

Ari pulled away instantly, frowning at Kimmy as he spoke until his gaze caught yours standing about 6 feet behind them.

The shirt with Ari's number for the adoption drive fell from your hand as tears streamed freely down your face. Shaking your head at him, it was as if you were having a silent conversation, Ari's expression looked pained- his eyes pleading as you shook your head, turning on your heels and walking away.

"Bit... don't" you heard him call as you weaved through the packed arena, fans filling the stands for the game.

The lump in your throat burned as you wiped your tears with the sleeve of Ari's oversized hoodie, hurrying towards the front door as you tried like hell to hold it together.

"Bit....stop!" you heard Ari's voice boom down the long hallway, pausing only briefly you saw the giant, lumbering after you, still on his skates, as the crowd of people parted like the Red Sea for him.

You chirped, turning back around and pushing your way through the swarm of fans with more urgency. You couldn't do this anymore. Not while your heart was breaking.

"Bit.... Fuck! Y/N... stop... please" his voice was fading into the noise of the arena the more distance you put between you.

No doubt Ari was getting swarmed by now. Always a fan favorite and for once it was working in your favor.

You made it to the door, gripping the handle and letting out a trembling breath you didn't even realize you were holding. Your lungs burned, chest ached and you knew you shouldn't but you turned back for one last look.

You couldn't help smiling as the sob choked up your throat. Ari, surrounded by a sea of his young fans. A gentle giant, still trying to push through the throng of people as he looked up, locking eyes with you where you stood, hesitating at the entrance.

"Please" he mouthed, still about 20 feet away from you, even from this distance you could tell his eyes were watery and it made you want to run to him. Want to make it all better.

"I'm sorry" you murmured, pushing the door open and slipping though without looking back. The door slammed shut behind you with a finality you weren't ready for, but even then, you wouldn't let yourself turn back.

You walked across campus, trying to steady your breathing, at least until you made it to your car- parked in the big lot across campus.

You half expected him to come chasing after you. If you were being honest- you wanted him to chase after you. But it was time. This will-they, won't-they over the past 2 years was slowly eating you alive. It wasn't good for either of you.

You had been right there all along and he never made it happen. He never sealed the deal. And you had tried. You told him what you wanted the end of your sophomore year.

He had said it mattered. It was supposed to matter.

A sob bubbled up your throat, painful and hot as tears blurred your vision. You were about 10 minutes from your car. Damn this large campus.

When Ari left for summer break you lasted a week. One agonizing week without him. You decided you were going to go- surprise him in Canada. He had always said he wanted to take you- wanted you to meet his Mom and the small town he grew up in. He wanted to show you the lake where he learned how to skate and where his junior team won their first championship.

But the night before you were set to leave, you saw it. A seven second video, playing on a loop. You probably watched it 20 times.

Ari with his on-again-off-again high school sweetheart- kissing outside a bar.

She posted it. Levs didn't even have a social media. You were sure he didn't even know about it. But that's what made it so damning. That and the fact that he was wearing a tournament tshirt Coach V had made only a few weeks back.

Oh, how you wanted to convince yourself it was an old video.

You leaned against you car, sighing with a heavy kind of temporary relief. You were glad to be back at your car- but not sure what the hell you were going to do now. You couldn't be here.

Gripping the handle and yanking the door open you sat in your car, holding the steering wheel as you finally let yourself feel. The tears were coming fast as you sobbed, sobbed so hard it made your chest ache and your head throb.

You cried for all the time you spent pining for him. For all the hopeful moments spent in his arms thinking someday. Someday this would happen for you. Someday you would matter enough. But it didn't. You didn't.

And now that you saw it from the other side you still couldn't understand why that someday never came.

When Ari came back after that summer, you acted like nothing happened. You didn't tell him that you saw the kiss. You just dove into your school work, dated a handful of other guys unsuccessfully and continued to be Ari's good friend. His itty bitty. Hoping that one day he would figure it out. That he would truly see that it did matter.

You stayed in your car the duration of the game- only realizing it when you saw people start to funnel out in the direction of the arena. The crowd looked happy which meant the boys won. You hoped Ari scored. But not for you this time. For him.

You took a deep clarifying breath, easing the car out of the parking lot and turning away from campus. You knew what you needed to do and for once, it didn't involve Ari.

Turns out, even after all this time, it didn't actually matter after all.

Check out bug’s Team Literally Anyone Else t-shirt made by the lovely and talented @justalonelyslytherin ❤️

The hockey dividers were made by the lovely and talented @firefly-graphics ❤️

As always, thank you for all the love and support. Please check out my archive blog where I only post new fics @drabblewithfrannybarnesfics ❤️

#Thunderbolts

Nose scrunch ála Sebastian

'til the morning comes (6/?)

steve rogers x reader (fluff and angst)

summary: you need to get some air, and see some friends.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: mentions of the death of a father, super vague mentions of MCU-typical violence/terrorism

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 7) (series masterlist)

 “Trouble in paradise?” Helen peers above her sunglasses, frowning.

 “What?” As if you hadn’t spent ten minutes inside the hotel bathroom washing your face with cold water, minimizing its puffiness. “No.”

 “I just thought your hot-shit husband would be the one driving you around,” she explains while you buckle your seatbelt. “He seemed really excited to pick you up last night.”

 Back then, you had expected a text to light up your phone at eleven o’clock, followed by excusing yourself from the bar. But Steve actually found you and walked to the rental car. He greeted your friends charmingly, shaking hands and joking about the late hour, but mostly he ushered you out the door to kiss you again. And again and again—

 “We’re not married,” you mutter.

 “Like, really excited.” She elbows your ribs. "Did you have sex?"

 You roll your eyes. “Can I not just wanna see my best friend?”

 Helen removes her sunglasses in time for you to spot her side-eye. “Not when she’s hungover, and late to work.” She exits the roundabout driveway and starts toward the Fairmont. “Honestly, a school night. You’ve changed.”

 At least these drinks celebrated an accomplishment. Once, you went with Joaquín because a student vomited on your favorite patterned dress and her mom had shamed you for failing to nurse her precious daughter back to health. Still, Helen’s chastisement—no matter how lighthearted—makes you squirm. “I missed you,” you tell her, “Doesn’t that count for something?”

 She checks her mirrors. “How was your art thing?”

 You haven’t given her an update yet. Your friend group had agreed to a No Work Talk policy on nights out. Though, the art festival never felt like work—so unlike the long days you spent prancing around Steve’s office, providing help where it probably wasn’t strictly needed. The event meant something to you. And to Steve, who apparently hid his creative talents from you.

 Paling in comparison to what you hid from him.

 “It was fun,” you say honestly. “It was… everything.”

 Helen gives you a sidelong look. “You don’t sound enthused.”

 You cross your arms. The festival should spark a dozen happy memories: a triumphant return to the elementary school you loved, to doing what you do best. Plus, a definite win for the campaign, the entire night brimming with your favorite people.

 Maybe twenty year’s time will allow you to forget all the bad that happened after. “I wish I could stay longer.”

 “Shut up,” Helen laughs. “I’ve never seen you so happy.”

 Your face warms, because No Work Talk inevitably meant Steve Talk. Your futile attempts to discuss Joaquín’s abrupt switch to kindergarten or Helen’s new roommate or Dane and Sersi’s next vacation all failed to overshadow the rapid questions regarding your fiancé.

 You answered them like a lovesick schoolgirl, the corners of your lips lifting as you pictured him, especially his slightly mussed hair when you reluctantly left the heat of your first real kiss.

 Now, thoughts of Steve turn sour. Nails scraped across his scalp out of frustration rather than passion. His height towering over you. The room filled with his anger, floor to ceiling.

 He made you feel small. Maybe you are, or maybe you should be.

 “It was fun while it lasted.”

 Helen interprets your shift in tone as your mind shifting to Shangqi, and the spirit inside her car lessens. Jerking a thumb toward the backseat, she explains, “I have two things of pajeon. One for him, one for Xialing.”

 You squint at the truly giant containers, crammed with steamed-up food and strapped into each seat. “You cooked?”

 Helen huffs, pulling into the Fairmont’s driveway. “Well, I bought it and then lovingly transferred it to a different container, creating the illusion that I can cook.”

 Apparently, no amount of misery can ever overpower Helen making you laugh. “You’re ridiculous.” You gently dismiss the valet driver as you unbuckle the comfort food.

 Helen doesn’t return your smile, mocking seriousness. “You realize how much takeout I eat now that you’re gone?”

 “Thanks for the ride.” You haphazardly balance the Tupperware against your torso while shutting the door. “Y'know, I can send you my recipes.”

 “Too much work.”

 “For one of the smartest people I know, you’re awful at following directions.”

 “Hey.” Helen stretches across the console. “Double checking. You sure you’re okay?”

 She needs to get to her lab. “Yeah,” you lie. “Love you.”

 “Love you.”

 You weave effortlessly through the bustle inside the Fairmont. Enough red-vested employees give you vague nods of recognition that you sneak inside the staff break room without arousing too much suspicion. There, you find Shangqi poking a vending machine, his crisp white sleeves folded to his elbows.

 “Hi,” you whisper. Then, you realize the room is empty.

 He tilts his head affectionately, flipping his soda can. “Hey, Mrs. President.”

 You wrinkle your nose, bashful at the stupid nickname. “Um…” You shove the pajeon toward him. “Helen sends her love to you and Xialing.”

 Shangqi hums. Then, he lifts the plastic from your hands, stifling any of your weak objections with a tight embrace. You shove your nose into the scratchy material of his uniform, which smells like the inside of a new car mixed with crisp laundry detergent. Reminiscent of home—or what home used to be. You mold yourself to his solid, secure body.

 You’re already sniffling. “Why didn’t you take the day off?”

 He sits at a small round table, cracking open his soda and poking the giant mass of food now in his possession. “Already, with the patronizing.”

 You fold your arms. “Sorry. I know.”

 “Maybe parking cars helps me process my emotions," he chuckles, while motioning you to grab a chair. “The lack of tips is a metaphor for my grief.”

 You place a hand over his, letting one finger trace the bumps along his scarred knuckles. “Shangqi,” you start again, “I’m really sorry.”

 He drinks his soda, his mouth forming a thin line. “It was unexpected but… bound to happen.”

 Thankfully, no foul play. His father passed in his sleep, an oddly peaceful death for such a violent person.

 Although, that side of Wenwu never revealed itself to you. Shangqi and Xialing openly disdained him, and although their tension thickened the air of his cold home, you mostly remembered an old, kind man who made you tea and inquired about your career.

 A nice girl, Shangqi relayed to you later, lightly mimicking his father’s accent.

 The nicest, you replied smugly.

 “Is there anything I can do to help?” You feel stupid asking the question, especially with the hours counting down before your flight back to New York.

 His smile returns, barely detectable, and he interlocks your fingers briefly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

 “Bothering you during your lunch break?” you tease, but your grimace keeps the mood dampened.

 He smacks the plastic lid. “I get to eat scallion pancakes for the next two weeks, thanks to you.”

 “Are you sure you’re okay?” Asking a second time usually earns you a real answer.

 Shangqi softens at your concern. “I don’t know. It’s my dad.”

 “He was intense,” you agree.

 “Not exactly the most healthy relationship I’ve ever had.”

 You bite the inside of your lip. The crack in his voice transports you back to the nights you spent at his place, the rare ones when he opened up about Wenwu. Even underneath the cover of darkness, you struggled to look Shangqi in the eye as he talked through the trauma of living under the Ten Rings’ oppressive shadow. A past he rejected without hesitation, favoring a cramped studio apartment and a low-paying job heavy with entitled customers. Something simple and uncomplicated, far from family.

 Still, you listened, both to his stories and to his heart beating steadily against your cheek, pretending—mostly for your own sanity—that throwing a leg over him and tracing patterns on his chest could protect him from the worst of it, and lull him into a sleep where thunderous nightmares wouldn't jerk him awake.

 “You’re the only one of my girlfriends to meet him.” He clears his throat, eyes going glassy at the realization. “Actually, you’ll be the only one to ever meet him.”

 “Well, I’m lucky then.”

 “You don’t have to lie,” he says bitterly. “He did some terrible things.”

 Six months into your relationship, you accepted Shangqi’s first—and extremely hesitant—dinner invitation to meet his father.

 You owed him. While your personal challenges could never eclipse his, he supported you, through frazzled weekend lesson-planning and long nights. Shangqi drove you to half a dozen art stores to find the best deal, kissed your shoulder when you cried, offered to beat up your administration when you texted him about losing your job.

 No, you didn’t owe him; it wasn’t an obligation. Rather, a privilege. To have a little bit of his pain be yours.

 “That doesn’t change the fact that he’s your father, and a part of who you are.” You nod decisively. “I got to be a part of that.”

 He sighs, a brief and shaky thing. “Thanks.”

 “But I…” You wipe away a tear. “I can’t go to the funeral.”

 “That’s alright. You’re busy.”

 The quickness of that response makes you wince. “I’m sorry, I tried, but I’m not—”

 “Hey." Shangqi takes your hand again. “S’okay.”

 “I should have answered my phone last night,” you choke out.

 “I didn’t even think you were in the city.” He shrugs. “Honestly, I kinda expected you to be asleep on the east coast.”

 You scoff. You would have preferred that. Instead, guilt calcifies inside your stomach.

 Mere months ago, you wouldn’t have so idly dismissed his name flashing on your screen. He seldom called you—never twice in a row. But you were too distracted by your friends, the drinks you shared with them, the prospect of spending the rest of that night with Steve. While you and Shanqi ended on good terms and you’d never purposely ignore him, maybe deep down you rebuffed even the possibility of something sidetracking your perfect night.

 Fucking selfish.

 “I just wanted to hear your voice,” he confesses. “I didn’t expect any more from you.”

 You shake your head, refusing his conjured-up excuses for your behavior. “I should have called back. I would’ve wanted to be there for you.”

 “You’re here now,” he urges. “Even if you are taking up my lunch break.”

 With a cheeky wink, Shangqi grabs a plate and two forks from the miniature kitchen counter. He cracks open the top container, carefully transferring a pancake and cutting it in half.

 The moment strikes you as alarmingly familiar: yet another one of the hundred meals you’ve shared, yet another time you’ve arrived with food to break up the monotony of his day. In fact, you could both name the exact Korean place where Helen got these pancakes. And if you thought about it, you could probably recite Shangqi’s regular order back to him.

 Earlier today, as you pushed through the hotel doors, the muffled yet cheery beat of Helen’s favorite pop music reached your ears, immediately relieving the burns in your heart after leaving your fiancé speechless on the hotel room floor.

 You suck in a deep breath. It’s been so long since you’ve felt at ease, among friends, your love mutual and long-lasting.

 It’ll never be this way with Steve. The realization crushes you a little.

 “I have to ask about your new guy,” Shangqi remark, offering you a sip of his drink.

 “No, you really don’t,” you mumble.

 “That happened quickly.”

 “Only because—” He wouldn’t believe the truth, if you could tell him. And if he did believe you, he’d pity you. “We should talk about you and your dad.”

 “C’mon.” He leans backward, satisfied with how flustered you seem. “Take my mind off things. Are you with him ‘cause of his money and looks? Be honest.”

 “No, Steve, he’s…”

 “He’s rich and attractive,” Shangqi supplies.

 “He’s… good to me.”

 Most of the time.

 “A very glowing review,” he says, every word drawn out in suspicion. “Not surprised though, I’d trust a politician as far as I can throw him.”

 You laugh. Steve is kinda strong, but Shangqi has mastered, like, every martial art under the sun. It wouldn’t even be a fair match. “You could throw him pretty far, I think.”

 “Not far enough.”

 You can’t finish your food with the funny feeling sloshing inside your gut. “He’s different, sometimes.”

 “Sometimes,” Shangqi repeats sadly. There’s the pity.

 “He won’t let me go to the funeral.”

 “Won’t let you?” Shangqi leans forward, his strong forearms bracing the table, the pale scars on his knuckles flexing.

 You hate this subtle macho display just like you hated Steve’s yelling. It’s not cute, this overprotectiveness, and you wish they would think to comfort you instead. “Most people don’t know, right?” you ask, deflecting. “That your dad was behind all that stuff. They've just heard of the Mandarin.”

 After a pause, he nods gravely, sitting back in his chair. “When it comes to Wenwu, most people just see a very rich and powerful man, with two kids who hated him.” His jaw ticks. “But most people doesn’t mean all people.”

 You wring your hands. “You’re right.”

 “I think your senator made the right call.” You catch the derogatory tone on Steve’s title, yet he doesn’t apply it to yours: “Future First Ladies of the United States shouldn’t be seen at a crime lord’s funeral, no matter how innocent it may seem.”

 You push your half-eaten pajeon toward him. “Yeah.”

 “I’m not voting for him though. Seems like an asshole.”

 A laugh, a real one. “That’s okay.”

 Win or lose, you don’t care. You just wanna get through this, whatever it takes.

 “Is this what you want, with him?”

 You blink. “Is it okay to say that I don’t know?”

 “You don’t have to ask if it’s okay.” Shangqi considers you for a long moment before picking at your food. “Whatever happens, you can always come home.”

— — —

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