#doesn’t help that I got hit with a folding chair of emotions recently

[raventroll80]

I’ve been on tumblr for roughly a year now but I still have questions about chatting with friends/mutuals.

Like is it ok to just go “yo how was your day?” Or is that weird.

[kawaiilizzie]

Unsheathe the Inner Thunder

Figured I’d give some bonus Shion content with this one-shot on how she became Espada from her perspective. This one-shot is based on the Ao3 fic Set the Narrative on Fire which sees Mei become Espada. Check it out after this, it’s incredible!

Warnings: Spoilers for Saber up to episode 26, Kento’s trauma, and probably slightly more than Rider-typical violence. I wrote this months ago so I’m not fully certain on this.

There was blood on Shion's hands. It wasn't her. It was Touma's. Okay, maybe a little of Kaede's and Daishinji's. Some of it might've even been from Ogami. But none of it was hers.

She and Mei had just patched them all up after yet another battle she couldn't directly participate in. Touma was in bad shape. He'd nearly lost control of that new form of his and it has wrecked his body. His breathing was shallow and pained as he dozed on the couch while Mei looked over him in his bookstore.

How many times did she have to drag him off the battlefield already? And how much longer can her emotional support keep up?

"Are you okay?" Daishinji asked. Though he hadn't been nearly as bad, he'd still been of bloody mess. He was curled up in one of the reading chairs, facing away from her.

"Of course I'm not!" She shouted, causing Daishinji to wince and cover his ears.

Oh right, enhanced hearing. Shion thought before speaking in a quieter tone. "There isn't much I can do out there. Seriously, I watched you all get the stuffing beat out of you and there wasn't anything I could do to help."

"Shion-chan..." Kaede muttered, looking a little less worse for wear. She was sitting on another reading chair, looking at her.

Touma twitched in his sleep and Shion gritted her teeth. She was sick of this. Sick of seeing her friends suffer like this. Sick of being unable to help. Sick of being a damsel in distress when the Megid did come after her.

"Why can't I have a sword?" She asked.

"We don't have spare swords just lying around." Daishinji ran his fingers over his own sword. "At least not ones powerful enough for these threats."

"But you do have one."

Shion's words made Daishinji tense. He looked over at her, eyes darting down when she tried to meet his gaze. "No." He said firmly.

"Ikazuchi!" She ran over to him and grabbed his arm, shaking him roughly. "No one's using it. I could take over as Espada-"

"No!" Daishinji shouted. He covered his face with his hand as he stood. "It doesn't work like that."

A shouting match was barely avoided by Touma jolting upright, hacking and wheezing. By the time she and Mei helped even out his breathing, Daishinji had vanished when she turned to ask more questions.

Next thing she knew, she was in the Northern Base to get clean clothes after Touma got blood on her clothes.

And this was a recent addition to my wardrobe as well... She thought as she went to Rintaro's room, feeling like it wasn't right to take the clothes of a dead man by going into Kento's room.

His room was immaculate and there was a change of clothes resting on his desk, neatly folded. Grabbing the shirt kicked up the dust that'd settled over them.

Shion stumbled away, sneezing and coughing. As she moved away from the cloud of dust, her back hit a bookcase and two objects clattered to the ground.

They were Wonder Ride Books. She knelt to pick them up. Lamp Do Alangina and a book she had never seen before. Yellow. This was Kento's as well... But why would Rintaro leave these here when Reika labeled Touma-san a traitor? She thought.

The cover of the unknown book had some sort of wolf-like creature. The words on the front were hard to understand at first but what this was about was obvious. Raiju, the companion of Raijin, the Shinto god of lightning... Shion thought. Should I give this to Touma-san or even Kae-chan? Give them a new weapon to their arsenal? Or...?

She made her way to Kento's room in the base. The door was closed, but not locked.

What's the worst that could happen? She thought as she looked around the missing swordsman's room. If it's too much for me, I'll admit defeat, but what if it isn't? If Kaede can pull it off, then so can I.

The sword was locked in a chest under Kento's bed. Shion only knew this because Mei had told her while she was visiting during her shift. Rintaro had hidden the key behind one of the stones in the southern wall of the room, Mei didn't tell her which one because she couldn't remember which stone it was.

She had to change clothes by the time she found the right spot. The stone slipped out and landed on her foot. She hissed like a cat as she pushed the stone off and grabbed the key. She had enough cafe mishaps and stepped onto battlefields enough times to knows her toes were completely fine, but it was painful enough to force her to hobble over to the chest.

The key fit in the old lock, but it took a bit of strength and jiggling the lock around to unlock the chest, a horrid creaking sound echoing as she lifted the lid.

But there it was. A Swordriver and Kento's Seiken, Ikazuchi, laying on a pile of blankets.

She held these magical swords before. Heck, she and Mei even helped Yuri transform. But this time felt different.

It was far heavier than she thought it would be. She felt static lifting her hair as she picked both items up and inserted Ikazuchi into the driver. The air crackled with electricity stemming from this Seiken's magic as she put it to her waist.

The weight grew heavier as the belt wrapped around her. Sparks flew from her fingers as she opened both Wonder Ride Books.

I'm not sure this will work. Shion thought. The Raiju one isn't even the right book. I know Kento always used the Aladdin-based book but the Wonder Combo has the book based on Cerberus. I've never even seen this book until now.

Regardless of her uncertainty, she slammed the books into the corresponding slots of the Swordriver. It flashed and grew so heavy; she almost fell to the ground. No... She thought. 'Heavy' isn't the right word for this... It's more like this is pulling me in, draining my energy while doing so... Still worth a shot... Right...?

Her knees shook as she grabbed the handle of the blade while the standby played. More electricity was spinning around her, crackling and sending sparks flying.

"Henshin!" She shouted, pulling the sword as hard as she could. Lightning flooded her veins before she collapsed.

When she woke up, she swore she smelled like ash, every hair standing on its end.

"What were you thinking?" Ogami's voice came from behind her.

She combed her hair down and turned around, feeling pain in every muscle as she did. Ogami was giving her a sharp glare. She could see Kento's Seiken sitting on the table behind him. It was covered in a thick layer of soot.

Seriously, what had she been thinking? Did she really think things would be so simple?

"I just wanted to help you guys more." She couldn't look up to meet Ogami's stern glare as she tried to get her hair to lie flat.

"I know that." Ogami's voice softened. "I know you mean well, Miss, but this is dangerous. The Seirei don't like their Seiken being handled by anyone that isn't their current wielder."

"Even if the current wielder is dead?" Shion asked.

Ogami frowned as he picked up Ikazuchi, turning it back and forth in his hands. "That depends."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, the Seirei are fickle sometimes. They choose who they will let wield them. Normally, when a Seiken chooses a swordsman, its Seirei will stay with them until their death." Ogami put the sword down, dusting soot off his hands. "Then the Seirei will mourn its master's death. It will resist anyone it finds to be inferior or against their ideals. It could take years before a suitable replacement is found, and it's unlikely to be some passing human."

"So it resisted me because Raito wasn't ready for a new user." Shion sighed. I should've figured that would happen. I'm no Touma or Kaede after all.

"You did well given the circumstances." Ogami said.  He slapped her on the shoulder in a way that was meant to be gentle but sent shocks of pain through her chest.  "We pick protegees and train them for years specifically with the intention of passing on the Seiken. Even then, it can take months for the Seirei within to warm up to a new wielder."

Some time later, still undeterred from becoming a swordswoman, Shion decided to try asking Daishinji again.

"Are you trying to discourage me after all this time?" She asked upon hearing that the Sword of Logos stopped trying to convince people to leave their entire life behind on a fraction's chance they'd succeed in the guild decades ago.

"I'm being realistic." Daishinji said. "I don't know if you've noticed, but there's a lot going on right now. I can't waste time on a student that has a one in a ten thousand chance of succeeding."

That fact surprised her. "Is the chance really that low?"

"Yes." Daishinji pulled out Suzune. "For one, only one in a hundred humans can hear the Seiken."

"As in the voice of the Seirei within?" Shion inched towards the Seiken of Sound. That was an invitation, right? He wanted to see if she could hear the Seirei of his Seiken.

Daishinji turned away, holding the sword out of her reach. "No funny business." He said sternly. "Don't try to lie. I can tell if you're faking."

She nodded. With a heavy sigh, Daishinji turned and handed her his sword.

It was different than Ikazuchi had been. It was oddly light. Each touch reverberated through the whole weapon. The whole thing felt almost hollow as she held it up to her ear.

Daishinji rolled his eyes as she pressed the strange metal against her ear.

"It's a sword, not a conch shell." he said.

"I know that." Shion pouted as she lowered the sword. I didn't know that. I thought hearing was literal. Maybe this was subtler than that?

She tapped Suzune lightly and felt the vibrations go through it. Tapping different areas caused different sounds. It was a musical weapon befitting its element, she wondered if she could play it. She slid her fingers across, tapping as she went. She'd practiced guitar a little bit in her free time, so she found herself beating out a familiar melody.

Suzune vibrated in her hand. She could hear Naoto vocalizing as if in happiness. She glanced up at Daishinji, who was looking down at his Seiken with a smile on his face.

"Congratulations, you're one in a hundred." He said, extending his hand. She handed over the weapon.

"That's it?" Shion asked. "You don't sound surprised."

"I suspected as much." Daishinji said. "You fit in well here. That's the easy part. A very simple yes or no, are you even capable of handling a sword?"

She titled her head. "What's the hard part?"

"Of the one in a hundred that can hear the swords, only one in those hundred make it through training. It's not something to be taken on lightly." The swordsmith responded.

"Quit it, Tetsu. You're not gonna scare her away with that." Ogami shouted from the landing above. "She's made up her mind. Let me run her through some trials, see how she does."

"I'll be running the first trial." Daishinji didn't look up at Ogami. He moved over to a bookcase, scanning the shelves.

Ogami sighed loudly.  "Come on, you know it makes more sense for me-"

"You're going to let her off easy." Daishinji pulled out several books.  "You're too soft on her."

"I'm not soft on anyone!" Ogami stomped down the stairs.

"Yes, you are." The swordsmith danced away when his colleague stormed up to him.

"I'm nice, not soft."

"You're too nice and you're soft."

Shion watched the two men bicker back and forth. Knowing that they won't reach calming point in the argument anytime soon, Shion cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, "When are these trials going to start?"

Both men stopped in place and glanced at each other.

"Tomorrow morning." Daishinji said firmly. "Be here by seven."

I'm not complaining about the early time. Some of my co-workers get up earlier than that. Shion thought. Daishinji-san's testing me. I'm not going to stumble over something as simple as that.

"I'll be there."

The training was tough, and she had to juggle that and her waitress job at Magi Manga Cafe while doing so. But when Kento was revealed as Calibur, an opportunity arose.

She was watching Touma's childhood friend fight Reika as Sabela while holding the Swordriver containing Ikazuchi. She knew that no matter who won this fight, someone was losing their Seiken. She didn't care about the reason; she wasn't going to let that happen. Touma is in a vulnerable position, she wants to protect him and fight by Kaede's side.

Suddenly, as if in response to her thoughts, she heard Ikazuchi's voice, its Seirei, Raito, speaking to her. "I feel your desire to protect the Swordsman of Flames and fight with the Swordswoman of Ice..."

She gasped softly as he continued. "Given these circumstances, I shall grant you my power. Wield my blade to your heart's content, my chosen warrior."

This is it. Now or never.

Shion put the Swordriver to her waist. It wrapped around her, heavy and tight. Electricity crackled around her as she looked up.

Calibur was staring at her. She couldn't see his eyes, but she could still feel the heat in Kento's expression.

He stepped towards her, blocking several of Sabela's blows without turning his head. Kaede, Touma, Mei, Rintaro, Daishinji, and Ogami all looked at her in disbelief.

Realizing she haven't grabbed the Wonder Ride Books, she lunged towards the table they were was on, feeling thunderous magic running through her veins. Kento lunged in the same direction.

"Shion-chan!" She heard Kaede yell her name as she swept the books off the table.

She stumbled back as Kurayami came down right where her hand had been, sending splinters everywhere. She covered her face with one hand, but from there, both of her hands were moving almost on their own accord.

She flipped open the Wonder Ride Books. Lamp Do Alangina! Raiju no Arashi! Katsute inazuma no yō ni hayaku ugoku koto ga dekiru ōkami ga imashita... (雷獣の嵐! かつて稲妻のように速く動くことができるオオカミがいました…, Thunder Beast's Storm! Once there was a wolf capable of moving as fast as lightning strikes...)

Lightning curled around her, her hair frizzed and her skin tingled. Everyone was staring at her now, moving towards her, but they moved slow. It felt like time had nearly stopped as she slammed both books into the belt.

It was like last time. Shion felt heavy as the sword sucked her in and she found herself in a library surrounded by lightning. But it didn't feel like the last time at all. The electricity felt like it was flowing with her rather than against her. She grabbed the hilt and pulled. Ikazuchi Battou! (黄雷抜刀!)

"Henshin!" She shouted before she performed a single vertical uppercut slash as Raito copied her movement behind her before transforming into a genie and a wolf made of yellow light and circle her, forming the armor with the slash forming the visor. Kaminari Kemono! Raiju Do Alangina! Ikazuchi Nisatsu! Denki to negai no chikara kara umareru, aratana-ryoku ga tokihanata reta! (雷獣! 雷獣ドアランジーナ! 黄雷二冊! 電気と願いの力から生まれる、新たな力が解き放たれた!, Thunder Beast! Raiju Do Alangina! Ikazuchi: Volume 2! Coming forth from the power of electricity and wishes, a new power has been unlocked!)

When the light faded, everyone looked on in shock and disbelief at what they were seeing.

Now sporting brand new armor on the right side of the body alongside the armor on the left side, Kamen Rider Espada has been reborn!

Shion looked down at the armor now covering her body. She could feel the power flowing through her. I... I actually did it... She thought. I transformed... This is incredible.

"How?" Kento whispered, breaking the stillness that had occurred while everyone was frozen at what Shion had become.

At this point, Reika had left with Rintaro in tow, disappearing into smoke.

"Am I not worthy anymore?" Kento asked.

Shion was confused by what he meant until she felt Ikazuchi vibrate in her hand. Kento wasn't talking to her, but Ikazuchi wouldn't answer him. Not anymore.

Go on the offensive. She thought as her body moved with an instinct she'd never had. She lunged forward, swinging the sword in quick, small arcs.

Kento was caught off guard, but he had no issue blocking the assault. She kept swinging. Nothing landed, but he was being knocked back a little with every strike.

When his back hit the wall, his shoulders tensed. He swung back, weaving right through Shion's defenses to land a hit on her right shoulder. She nearly dropped the sword as he shoved her back.

"Letting Ikazuchi guide you will only get you so far." He said, putting his blade to her throat.

She froze as the blade scraped the armor at her neck. It wouldn't cut, but she could feel the dark energy radiating from the weapon. She didn't want to know the consequences of being hit.

Kento looked around at the battlefield. Everyone was staring up at the two of them in stunned shock.

He lowered Kurayami, hand coming to his head. He winced as his transformation faded. He looked up at Shion as his eyes flashed purple and his brow creased. "This path leads to death." He muttered. "I can't be responsible for more death."

She took a step towards him, extending a hand. He flinched away. Darkness swirled behind him, and he stepped back into the portal.

Shion tried to grab him, but her hand only found air.

She stared at the spot where he'd been for a moment before reaching down to pull the books free from the belt. Her transformation faded and she looked at Kaede exhausted.

She smiled as she held her for support. "You did it, Shion-chan."

Shion returned the smile. "Yeah, I did it."

[giggles-and-freckles]

swoon june day 8: hands

“Got it,” he says, jumping out of the bed with a speed she isn’t entirely convinced isn’t aided by the Force. She doesn’t complain, though. Just lays her head back on the pillow and smiles in contentment.

She thought it would wear off by now. Everyone told her it would. That his eagerness to be the one to tend to the babies every night would trail off and be replaced by groans and complaining.

They were going on six months, though, and Anakin was as happy to lull the twins back to sleep now as he was the first night they brought them home.

The crying stops within minutes, which means it must have been Leia. She never cries longer than absolutely necessary. There’s a hesitancy to the way she expresses her emotions, like she has so much to give but isn’t quite sure if the galaxy is able to handle it. Padmé is familiar with the sentiment. She sleeps next to it every night.

She waits a few more minutes, then pulls back the covers and slips her feet to the floor. It’s a short walk to the nursery, but she steps slowly and as quietly as she can. He left the door open so she stops just on the other side of it, her back flush against the wall of the hallway.

He’s singing.

Padmé smiles at catching him in this talent he’s too embarrassed to show anyone over the age of six months apparently. She recognises the tune from the nights before. Always the same song, rough huttese bent and flattened into smooth melody. His voice rumbles on and Padmé can’t help but peer around the corner of the door.

It’s Leia, like she’d guessed. The infant is curled up on Anakin’s chest as he reclines in the rocker. Her head bumps along the bottom of his chin as she shifts, leftover sniffles from whatever nightmare it was that had woken her up. His metal hand–an ungloved rarity–catches underneath her, hoisting her up. His other hand lightly trails down her face, tracing her nose.

Padmé’s heart constricts as she watches him sing and study their daughter. There’s a warmth about Anakin she’s always had the privilege of knowing–but she’s overjoyed that his circle has expanded. That there will one day be another woman who knows what it’s like to be loved by Anakin Skywalker.

His finger moves down Leia’s tiny, upturned nose to her lips. He traces those, too, and Padmé watches as he then lifts his finger to his own lips and kisses it. Then drops the finger back to Leia’s mouth. A satisfied sort of snort comes from Leia and Padmé has to stifle a giggle behind her hand.

Anakin’s head turns toward the door and locks eyes with her.

“Spying again?”

“Well,” she says, stepping fully into the room, “see, I heard this voice singing. I had to know where it came from. Couldn't help it.”

“Right,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“And what good fortune,” she continues, with a grin, “turns out he’s got a cute baby and he’s not too bad looking himself.”

He grins in return. “I’ve got two cute babies, actually.” He holds out his hand and she takes it. “But as it turns out...I also already have a wife. She works really hard to keep the galaxy in one piece, so she’d probably be a little upset to hear that a random woman was hitting on me in the middle of the night.”

“Hm,” Padmé says, lightly, “your wife seems nice.”

Anakin tugs on her hand until she’s sitting sideways in the chair with him. Leia squirms a bit on his chest and reaches out with a fist. It finds residence in the folds of Padmé’s gown. Padmé moves to replace the fabric with her own finger, then watches as Anakin wraps his own hand around hers and Leia’s.

This hand that has crushed droids and crashed starfighters. It has catalogued thousands of hours spinning a lightsaber around it and learned how to make the Force bend to it’s will, for better or for worse. More recently, it has killed a Sith Lord and independently restored balance to the entire galaxy.

Padmé thinks it’s much better suited to holding and caressing than killing and destroying.

She shifts her head so she can look at him, really look at him. He blinks back at her with a smile so soft she’s not quite sure how he was ever targeted by the Sith and drops a kiss to her forehead, then one to Leia’s.

Behind them, there’s a whimper. Because if Leia has inherited her father’s propensity for emotional suppression, Luke has inherited his need for attention.

“I've got it,” Padmé says, smiling and clamoring up from the chair. Anakin hums in response, but his finger is already tracing back down the bridge of Leia’s nose, watching with fascination as her eyes flutter shut.

Padmé leans over Luke’s bassinet. “Hello, my sunshine,” she whispers, pulling him up and close to her. Blue eyes blink up sleepily, but happily, at her. “Ani, when are you going to get around to teaching them that three in the morning is not breakfast time?”

Anakin doesn’t respond or seem to even hear her. Padmé looks and sees that he is still fixated on Leia. As she walks back toward him, she hears the first line of his lullaby, the tune hushed and rasping as he cups Leia’s face and rubs his thumb back and forth across her cheek.

The chair isn’t even close to being big enough for four of them, but Padmé drops into it nonetheless, needing to be complete and whole for this moment. Luke coos and sighs against her neck as she adjusts, laying her legs lightly over Anakin’s.

“I love you,” she says, as he continues to sing.

And the words change–from Huttese to Basic, from unfamiliar and foreign to warm and personal.

“You are the best of me, and the best of me is for you.”

swoon june 2021 prompts

[peralta-guaranteed]

hc of jake and amy hand holding before dating (i’m convinced they did a few times before they ever dated) and also in the beginning of their relationship + getting teased by the squad 🥰

(this has definitely turned out far more emotional than you’d probably thought, anon, but I don’t make the rules when it comes to fic inspiration)

Amy Santiago is sitting in a booth at Shaw’s, laughing at something one of her friends has said, and she feels a warm hand slip into hers under the table. Jake Peralta is laughing next to her, too, but then he’s also smiling at her only, and his hand wrapped around hers squeezes three times. It hits her like a brick to the face, those three little squeezes. She finally understands them.

-*-

He’s lying in a hospital bed, and Amy thinks she’s never seen something more unsettling than a quiet Jake Peralta. The only sound in the room is the beeping of some monitors he’s hooked up to, and the only movement is his chest rising slow and steady. Something it didn’t do about two hours ago, when she was kneeling over him in some alley and screaming while the medics finally arrived and brought him back. It was a fairly ‘minor’ injury in the end, one bullet wound that the doctor’s had to close up, but it had hit some sort of vein that was important and that lost a lot of blood and that stopped his heart for the few moments she remembers stretching like hours in her mind. She doesn’t remember much else, especially not the medic’s or doctor’s explanations. They’d taken her along in the ambulance, because she was his partner, and she was allowed to sit in the hospital room he was recovering in now, because she was his emergency contact, too. She could’ve been nothing after today. Because the bullet from that gun wasn’t aimed at Jake before he pushed her to the side.

Amy looks down at her hands, folded in her lap, pinching each other to remind her she’s awake, she’s here, and so is Jake. Not awake, but here. Still here. They’re squeaky clean, her hands, because she’s spent a good fifteen minutes in the hospital public toilets scrubbing them free of his blood after he was rushed into surgery and she was left behind, alone in the waiting room, her sensible grey pantsuit coloured red all over her arms. She had a list of things to do in her head - contact Captain McGintley to follow the chain of command, and Terry so something would actually get done. Figure out how and who can transport Peralta home and take care of him, if he gets to go home. (He will. He has to. She will take him.) Call Rosa to find out if they booked the perp properly, and that they add assault with a deadly weapon to his rep sheet (not murder, although that’s what he did, that’s what happened). But she couldn’t do any of that, because she was still shaking, her heart was still racing, and all she could see was his blood on her hands, warm and sticky and dark and drying into a rotten brown shade already. So she washed them clean, and then scrubbed some more, and some more, until she felt as red and raw as the wound in his chest had looked in the ambulance when they got his shirt off. (The jacket of her suit is rotting away in the toilet trashcan now, and she’s shivering ever so slightly in only her short-sleeved blouse, but it is clean and there is not a hint of Jake’s injury anywhere anymore, except in his gaunt cheekbones and the pale colour of his face, and the silence of the room.) His hand twitches while she’s staring at her own, and if it’s instinct or reflex of whatever that makes her reach out and grab it immediately, she doesn’t care. His hand is warm under hers, and it twitches again and then wraps its fingers around her and holds her, steady and calm. He blinks awake, a little disoriented, but then he focuses on her and - smiles.

“You’re okay.” He says, and that’s what breaks her in the end.

She doesn’t outright sob or anything, but she does let her head drop so her hair is hiding her face, hiding the tears he doesn’t need to see first thing after waking up from literal death. She feels his hand pull on her to make her look at him, though, and she can’t deny him, even if her tear-streaked face is probably not a good view.

“Hey, no- don’t-” He rasps, his voice still coming back, “I’m okay too.”

She laughs through her tears, a short little snort, but it helps calm her down - and him too, it seems, because he smiles again.

“You’re far more than just okay, Peralta.” She smiles back, and feels his hand tighten around hers, three little, but distinct squeezes.

-*-

She shouldn’t feel this nervous. She’s a cop, a detective. A good one. She’s done this before, and it’s never been nice, but it’s always something she’s gotten through.

But she fears tomorrow’s court date more than anything else in her life right now, which is why she’s trying to drown the thought of it at Shaw’s. The hangover will probably not be helpful with her witness statement that could possibly make or break this ruling, but her panic demands more alcohol. However, the next beer she orders at the bar is intercepted by a larger, more calloused hand than hers.

“Alright, Santiago, that last one was your sixth, and I really don’t need to deal with Seven Drink Amy tonight.” Jake says as he settles down next to her, hands the beer over to Rosa, who leaves them alone at the bar before Amy can whine and complain.

“I need that drink, Jake. It’s my only friend right now.” 

“We both know that’s just Six Drink Sadmy speaking.” He pats her arm as she spreads out over the slightly sticky bartop and whines some more.

“You’re worried about tomorrow.” He continues, reading her thoughts like he sometimes does, which is such an annoying thing he can do. His hand is still on her arm. “You don’t have to be.”

“That girl’s entire life is at stake. And the gang boss is going to kill me and her if he gets off-”

“He’s not going to get off. Not if you tell them exactly what you told the lawyers taking your written statement.”

“Says you.”

“Says Sofia.” There’s a weight to those words that hits her stomach, and it’s only partially the fact that a damn defense attorney is on her side. The other part of why those words from the woman Jake started dating just recently hurt her, she doesn’t want to think about. “Look, I’m gonna drive you home, you’re gonna take a hot shower to detox, then you’re gonna get your perfect 8 hours of sleep, show up at court tomorrow in your best, darkest pant suit, and rock this like you rock everything else.” His hand has wandered down her arm to her hand, now, flips it over to hold it, and it’s pure coincidence that their fingers spread and interlock, surely. “Okay?” He asks one more time, and she sighs.

“Teddy can pick me up-”

“Teddy’s at that conference, remember.”

Oh, right. Something that had been lost to memory between drink three and four, the fact that her boyfriend had booked himself into a seminar the week the court date was announced. It’s a really good one, he’d said, if she wasn’t already busy he would’ve asked her to join, too. Already busy. Regular Amy doesn’t get punchy a lot, and maybe it’s her closeness to Seven Drink Amy right now that makes her want to knock him out for that, but she felt that way when she helped him pack his luggage two days ago too, and she was stonecold sober then.

“Okay.” She nods and tries to get off of the barstool, wobbles quite heavily. “Take me home, Peralta.”

He snorts a laugh and obviously swallows down some sort of joke as he pulls her into a standing position, their hands still locked together. She thinks she imagines it at first, but even after she’s sobered up the next day, she remembers those three short, tight, almost painful squeezes before he let go and steered her to his car.

She doesn’t have much time to think about it, or about how she basically held hands with her best friend while both of their partners were out of town, either. Or how he helped her into her apartment and waited until she was showered and had downed some water and aspirin before tucking her into bed. She can’t think about any of that, because she has to get ready for court.

And when she sits down in the witness’ chair, the gang boss on the bench before her staring her down with murder in his eyes, she notices a set of dress blues in the otherwise thin crowd of people who were allowed in to watch the trial. Three rows down, Jake gives her a silent thumbs up when their eyes meet, and she feels the phantom of his hand again, squeezing hers three times before she begins to speak.

-*-

They’re gonna die. She’s certain. They’re gonna die in here, in this cramped little closet, wedged between some industrial shelving and a broken down sink.

Jake had pulled her in and locked the door behind him, squished her against the wall and himself against the door, and killed the radio on her shoulder as well as his own. The last thing they’d heard crackling through it was “four officers down”. Someone had fallen behind her when she ran for safety, and for a second she thought it had been Jake. That he was standing here now, almost pressed against her in the tight space she would usually panic in, that she could feel his erratic breath on her ear, his racing heart under her hands, was pretty much the only comfort she had left.

She wonders how long it’ll last.

The mission had been an absolute bust. They had expected a gang. They had not expected a well-armed mafia. And now officers were wounded, or dead, and they couldn’t use their radio to find out anything, for fear of being discovered. She can hear gunshots and shouts from further away, and it’s only her paranoia that make them sound as if they're getting closer, but Jake is listening just as intently. Amy thinks of Rosa and Charles, who were on the other side of the building. She thinks of Terry, who’s probably trying to reach any of them by radio from his station in the surveillance van. She thinks of Holt, and can’t see where he might be right now, still next to Terry or commanding whatever backup might be coming in or-

She feels Jake’s hand wrap around hers, still pressed against his chest, and realises that she’s been hyperventilating. If she gets any louder, she’ll give away their position. His forehead against hers is cold, colder than he usually is, clammy with sweat, but the simple pressure of it helps her focus. She can hear him breathe deep, slow, exaggerated, and understands that he’s doing it for her. He probably thinks she’s having a panic attack because of her claustrophobia, or maybe all things at the moment combined. He’s not that far off. She breathes with him, feels the air from their exhales swirl between the few spaces were they don’t connect. There aren’t many. If she looks up, she could kiss him. She’s not quite that sure that she’s going to die in here anymore, but she would definitely hate herself if she did and never found out what that felt like, or if her last kiss on Earth was really from Teddy the night before they broke up. But when she moves her head, she meets his eyes instead, pupils blown wide in the darkness around them. He looks scared and terrified, and his heart under their combined hands is still racing, and the last thing he needs is for Amy to confuse him before they go out in a hail of bullets, action-movie-style, which he’d probably love if it wasn’t so real right now. She wants to say something, anything to calm him down, but she can’t speak, and not just because there are footsteps approaching outside their door.

She feels his hand tighten around hers, three times, faster than before. And then he pulls her into a close hug when the door behind his back opens to reveal blinding light, and she realises he’s shielding her, has been ever since he pushed her first into this storage space. He only lets go when they both hear Terry’s voice, and the Captain’s, the first telling them they are safe, the second immediately trying to update them on the situation with the SWAT team. He holds her hand a second longer than the rest of her, and the three squeezes that follow are far softer and slower than the ones before.

-*-

Amy Santiago and Jake Peralta are sitting in a booth at Shaw’s, laughing at something one of their friends has said, and she feels his hand slip into hers under the table. For only a split second, she’s tempted to pull her hand away. It’s still so new and shaky and unsure, their whole thing, yet at the same time it isn’t. It’s been growing for so long, between them and around them, it feels like it’s always been there. But the rest of the squad is still pulling excited faces whenever they get a little closer, Charles still squeals at every mention of their ‘evenings together’, and Rosa has rolled her eyes so hard she almost strained a muscle the first time she heard Amy refer to Jake as ‘babe’ in front of her. It’s all a little bit embarrassing, and sometimes she wishes they’d stuck to just one of their rules, of not telling anyone until they figure it out. But then she wonders, what was there left to figure out? She was with Jake, and she wanted to be with Jake, and deep down, she could see none of that change at any point in time. Forever, possibly.

Charles is still talking, riding the wave of getting their laugh, but then Jake’s smiling at her only, and his hand wrapped around hers squeezes three times. It hits her like a brick to the face, those three little squeezes. She finally understands them. She remembers them from before, from tense moments and situations of fear, from where he’s been there for her at the worst parts. Holding on tight and feeling the three little bursts of pressure, only wondering a long time later if he did it on purpose, or if it was some sort of reflex.

She feels it again now, and she can finally hear it.

I. Squeeze. Love. Squeeze. You. Squeeze.

[let-love-bleeds-red]

Ezekiel reyes x reader

A/N: I’m new to posting/publishing my works so any feedback is welcomed! Maybe will do a part 2?? Depending on you readers. Also don't be shy to ask for more characters or different shows. ☺️

Summary: Ezekiel leaves their romantic partner high and dry as he deals with supposed club business. Y/n feeling quite lonely sends an attention grabbing video to Ez only for his phone to be left behind. After a confusing phone call with Angel, y/n decides she needs to see who Ez has been talking to. When Ez’s past crashes with his future puts Y/n in a bad position, y/n must figure out what’s better for her future and their relationship.

Warnings: Mature language, smut, oral sex, fingering, masturbation, mention of bodily fluids, mention of abuse, angst.

Word count: 3073

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Light shuffling wakes me from a blissful dream. My eyes adjust to the light shining through the window blinds. I rub the sleepiness away and make eye contact with the bare back of Ezekiel Reyes. Shamelessly, I take in every inch and mark of his body, happy that he's mine.

Ez turns around feeling eyes on him. "Like what you see cariña" (darling) the corner of his mouth curves up into a devilish smirk.

I'm sure I'm drooling at this point. Recapturing my composure, I throw a pillow at the back of his head. "It surprises me that your ego is bigger than your head" I retort.

He turns away from the dresser facing me “you didn’t mind my head size when it was between your legs,” a shit eating smile filling his face.

“Ezekiel Reyes!” I scold giggling. Warmth floods my cheeks as I hide underneath the covers. Large hands make they’re way up my legs, kisses trailing close behind them. My breath hitches as his lips make contact to my inner thigh. His teeth nip at certain spots making sure to leave many love bites. My fingers scratch the back of his head leading him further up to where my body most craved. He licks my slit, his focus now on teasing my clit.

A soft moan escapes my lips as my hips involuntarily buck up closer to him. Ez smirks kissing up to my sternum. He looks up to me with mischievous eyes. I pout from the loss of contact, “you just want to get me worked up.”

His hand molds my breast while playing with my nipple, “You look so sexy when you’re frustrated.” His hot tongue connects to my erect nipple sucking and tugging lightly, the other hand not stopping its menstrations. He bites the side of my breast causing loud moans to escape.

My hips grind against his abdomen looking for friction and much needed relief. “Fuck.. Ezekiel” my nails scratch along his shoulders driving him further on. “Please mi corazon” (my heart) I moaned, needing more of him. His hand leaves my breast, sliding down to where I ache the most. Two digits pump in me while his thumb gives attention to my clit. I ride along Ez’s hand getting closer and closer to my climax. His fingers feel like magic, hitting every sensitive part. I’m arching from the immense pressure of pleasure that’s fighting to be released. Just as I’m reaching the edge a ringing freezes Ez’s actions. Ezekiel looks to me, then to his phone across the room on the dresser, then back to me. “Don’t you even think about it,” The need for release takes over my emotional state.

Ez kisses my forehead, “Lo siento mi amor.” (I'm sorry my love) He climbs off of the bed making his way to the dresser and answers his phone. He turns away from me talking low to the person on the receiving end. I don't know if it’s my sexual frustrations or the fact that he’s acting sneaky but something was definitely up. Ez’s hush conversation ends as he rushes to get his clothes on. I sit up worried, “Is something wrong with the club? Is Angel alright? Bishop?” Here I am frustrated since we didn’t finish, yet my Mayan family could need help. Even worse they could be hurt. God I’m so selfish.

“No hermosa, everyone is fine. The club needs me for a run. I can’t say no to them,” He eases my mind. “Rest baby, I’ll be back before you know it.” He kisses my head rubbing the crease on my forehead.

“Be careful, I know it's just a run but things can go bad so quick, so please be careful.” I hug him snuggling my head to his chest hearing his beautiful heart beat.

He rubs my back holding me close, “See you in a few, sleep mi corazon” He takes my face in his large hands planting a soft kiss to my lips. After a brief moment he lets go and grabs his kutte from the corner chair. I hear the door close seconds later and sigh sadly. He just left and I’m missing him like crazy. I’m so whipped. Maybe I should show him how bad I’m missing him.

Grabbing my vibrator from the nightstand drawer, and setting my phone on the stand to catch all my naughty actions. I flip the switch to High on my vibrator moving it along my wet slit. The vibration re-excites my sensitive clit, as I rub it through my folds, lubing it up. My other hand finds my breast playing and tugging my nipple. “Ezekiel I want you so bad baby” I moan imagining his hands, his tongue, his huge thick cock. “I want you fucking every bit of me to pieces.” I rub against the vibrator gathering friction on the bundle of nerves. Feeling tired of waiting for release I thrust the vibrator into me. Not stopping to get used to the size, I thrust it fast in and out of me hitting my g-spot repeatedly. Taking my hand away from my breast I moved it down to my clit rubbing the sensitive bud to push me over the edge. “Fuck! Right there Ezekiel!” I moan arching my back. A split second later the burst of release and pleasure fills my body. I take the vibrator out seeing my cum drip along the sleek tool to the tip as I rub my orgasm out. “Would’ve been better if you were actually here,” I look at the camera. “I miss you, baby. Come home soon. I love you,” I blow a kiss toward the camera and end the recording.

After a long hot shower, I lather myself in lotion and get dressed. Checking how the naughty video looks, I send it to Ez satisfied with the results. A ding sounds from across the room. Investigating where the sound came from leads to Ez’s forgotten phone. For someone with great memory he forgets a lot of stuff. I’ll call Angel to let Ez know.

“Hey princess, you finally wise up and realize I’m the hottest Reyes?” Angel answers.

I roll my eyes laughing, “Sadly you’re mistaken Angel, Philippe will always be number one.”

“I’m gonna tell Ez you said that.”

“What makes you think Ez doesn’t know,” I smirk.

“Gross” he groans is distaste.

“Like your face. Anywho, how did the run go?”

“What run? Everyone is given the day off until the party tonight”

Confusion wracks my brain, “none of you went on a run this morning?”

“Not that I know of. What’s wrong?” He asks worriedly.

“Uh nothing, I just thought Ezekiel was with you and the guys. My mistake, sorry to bother you Angel.”

“You’re no bother princess, let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay thanks Angel, bye.” My heart sinks. Ez lied to me. He actually lied and broke his promise. Why would he do that. It has to be important if he needed to lie to me. Yea that’s it.

I look towards his phone thinking back to who he was talking to earlier. If it wasn’t the club then who? Going against my conscience I look through his messages to see Emily pop up on his recent. The messages showing meet up places on days Ez left early to do club business or met up with his dad. My heart is breaking into pieces. Shattering even more with the lies and betrayal. He knew how I felt about starting this relationship, about the trust issues, and trauma. He knew every part of me yet decided to destroy all that was built between us. Liquid drips onto my arms, I wipe my eyes not realizing the tears pouring. I don’t want to cry. I shouldn’t cry. Not over someone who didn’t truly love me. Yet I cry for the love that I gave him. I cry for being dumb enough to fall so hard for him, for giving my all to him.

~Months prior~

Slowly slipping out of strong arms I reach for my shirt and panties laying across the floor. Trying to be stealthy, I look for my missing shorts. How can someone lose shorts in a trailer?! There’s literally no way it’s too small, but of course my luck. I yelp as I feel myself being pulled back into a warm chest. Ez chuckles beside me, happy to catch me by surprise. “Buenos dias hermosa” (good morning beautiful) He kisses my temple leading more down the curve of my neck.

I hit his firm chest, “You scared me half to death, jerk!” Trying to hold back my smile, but Ezekiel being Ezekiel can see right through it.

His hand frames the side of my face as his thumb lightly trails across my bottom lip. “You weren’t trying to leave without saying goodbye were you?” His brown eyes bore into mine taking in every feature.

Not able to lie to him, “Yes, but only to get to the office before Chucky,” I explain while trying to climb off the bed again only to be pulled back to straddling Ez’s waist. “This is what got us in this situation in the first place, Reyes,” pointing to our current position.

His big hands slowly crawl their way up my bare thighs causing shivers to run up my spine. “You’re too irresistible, and you didn’t seem to mind it. I do remember you begging for more.”

Curse his memory. I hit his chest, ”Not my fault you kept following me around, I felt bad. You were like a lost puppy.” I smile thinking back to the first day we met. “Speaking of memory, where are my shorts?”

A mischievous smirk slips across his lips, “now what do I get if I tell you?” His hand now on my ass, pushing me slightly on his erection.

I jokingly ponder his question, grinding my hips slowly to tease, while tapping my chin in a thinking motion. “Hmm.. Not getting caught by Bishop, nor beaten to death. Oh and possibly get buried in the desert.” His smirk falls off his face. “But knowing Bishop he’ll probably castrate you first,” I grin thinking how protective the Mayan President can be.

He groans, pulling my shorts from behind his pillow. “Take them.”

“You were hiding them!” I laugh pinching his side teasing.

“I didn’t want you leaving,” he taps his finger along my thigh nervously.

“As sweet as that sounds, I don't want your death on my hands if Bishop catches us,” I joke.

“I want Bishop to know,” he states confidently. He sits up having us chest to chest as he watches my features. “I want us to date, be a couple in front of the club, in public. I don't want to hide it,” his hand caresses my face.

“Ezekiel,” I stop his hand. “I can’t do that. I can’t put sheer dumb trust in another person, not with my emotions and body.” Heat fills my chest from the traumatic memories. “I will not put myself in a position to be beaten down and taken advantage of.” Slipping out of his hold, I put my shorts and flats on trying to make a quick exit.

His hand gently wraps around my arm catching my attention. “I don't want you for your beauty and body, you’re so much more than that. You’re so strong and very smart, your humor and wit make you, you.” His arms wrap around my waist pulling me a bit closer to him. “I will never hurt you. I’m not that low life thug. I will never lie to you or make you feel uncomfortable. I respect you so much. Just give me a little trust, I promise you won't regret it,” he begs, his eyes full of love?

A knock on the trailer door interrupts the moment. “It’s Chucky, I brought by coffees for a morning wake up,” he explains happily.

I walk over to the door, opening it coming face to face with Chucky. “Thanks Chucky,” I take the two cups. “Do you mind letting Bishop know that I need to talk with him? He’s gonna wanna know I’m dating his prospect,” I look over to Ez smiling.

“Of course young love is beautiful, I hope to witness it myself one of these days.” Chucky sighs dreamily.

I peck his cheek, “You will Chucky. She’ll be one lucky woman,” I assure him.

Muscled arms snake around my stomach as Ez’s chest warms my back. “Chucky, y/n is gonna be late to clock in. I won't keep her for too long,” he kisses my temple.

“I love you Chucky, thank you!!” I squeal as Ez shuts the door and picks me up kissing me all over the face.

~End of Flashback~

My phone ringing brings me out of my haze. I answer it hearing the one man I didn’t want to contact. “Hey I’m calling from a pay phone, I think I left mine on your dresser. Any way I’ll be by to pick you up for the party tonight in a few minutes.”

I hold back from crying anymore, not wanting to show how hurt I am. “Don't worry about me, I’ll drive over by myself,” trying to keep my voice steady.

“Are you sure the house is on the way.”

On the way from where? Is what kills me. “I’m sure. I’ll see you there, bye.” I hung up before he could get another word in, not able to handle a longer conversation. Grabbing a duffle bag from the closet I pack every belonging of his. Erasing any sign of him from my home. As I fold the last of his shirts, his scent takes me in its embrace. I’m really going to miss him. Holding his shirt to my chest I hug it letting the last of my tears drip away.

After pulling myself together, I toss his stuff in my Jeep and head over to the club house. Chucky opens the gate and greets me. “Lovely night to let loose, huh y/n?”

I can’t help but always feel comfort from Chucky, he’s a true sweetheart. “Indeed Chucky. Make sure you get to enjoy the party a bit too.” I pat his arm before driving into the lot.

Hopping out, I head into the clubhouse to see Bishop playing a card game with Hank and Reaper. I greet the men hugging them one by one, leaving the last to be Bishop. “Can I talk to you in the temple?”

He nods a look of worry flashes across his face, “Of course mija. We’ll be back.” He tells Hank. We walk back to the temple, him taking a seat as I stand. “What’s wrong y/n? Did something happen?” He scopes out my face for any bruise or marks.

“Yes but it's not for you to worry about, Bish. Just letting you know I’ll be in Charming for the next couple of days.”

“Why are you leaving? Did the prospect do something to you?!” He starts to stand up to head toward the door.

I stop him shaking my head, “There is a job opening at the hospital there that I’ve been invited to try out. I think it’s a great opportunity for me since I’m back on my feet.” I explain leaving Ezekiel out of the situation.

“But that’s not the only reason. You look like you’ve been crying. What did the prospect do.” He demands an answer.

“Nothing that deals with the club. He didn’t touch me nor hurt me in any physical way. I can’t deal with being in a relationship, they don’t work well with me.” There’s no point in getting Ez into trouble with the club.

He gets up and embraces me, “If that’s what you want then I can’t stop you. Just make sure you’re doing it for you and not just running away.” He kisses the top of my head.

“I’ll call you when I get to Charming,” I pat his chest. “Please keep this between us, for now?” He nods his head in agreement. “Thank you for everything, El Presidente” I smile leaving him to head back to the Jeep. As I exit the club I come face to face with Ezekiel.

He smiles seeing that it’s me, “There you are hermosa,” he leans down to peck my lips. I step back avoiding the gesture. Confusion washes over him as I step around him to get to my car. He follows close behind, “Hey, wait up!” He grabs my arm only for me to yank away from him. “What’s wrong mi amor?” (my love)

“How was your run?” I steal my voice, staring at his brown orbs.

Worry taking over his emotions, “It was fine, everything went well. I’m okay.”

I scoff shaking my head at his lies. “Here,” pulling his phone out of my pocket and shoves it into his chest. “Emily has been messaging all day.”

Realization flashes through him, “wait baby no it’s not like that!” He tries to grab my hands.

“Don’t touch me. You lost the privilege the moment you decided to lie and sneak around. I don't want any part of your charades.” Tiredness heavy in my voice.

“Let me explain, please,” he pleads. “I didn’t cheat. I only helped her with a business issue,” he explains hurriedly.

“I don't need your explanation nor do I want it, Ezekiel. It’s not fair for you to live in your past, while you tell me to move on from my own. It’s hypocritical of you to think she loves you. Emily is a married woman, she loves Galindo, she’s moved on.” I sigh grabbing his duffle bag of belongings from my car dropping them at his feet. “At least I know I’m not the only stupid one in this relationship.”

“I don't love Emily, I love you, you are my everything. You make everyday worth it. I can’t lose you.”

“The problem, Ezekiel, is I don’t believe you. Your words are just that. Words. No meaning behind them. I’m not gonna give my time and trust to a man who doesn’t respect me. I’m done. It’s over. Don't contact me, don't go to my house.” I rush into the Jeep starting it and backing up out of the lot. The only thought is to drive away and don't look back. If I look, then I know I’ll turn and go back into his arms.

A/N: please feedback and let me know if there should be a part 2

[bangteamhyuk]

In This Rain

Genre:  Mafia (AU), Action, Suspense/Thriller, Smut

Mature content

Word Count: 4,962k

Characters: Police Captain!Namjoon, Police Officer! Reader, Mafia Boss! Jungkook.

Warning: mentions of drug use, graphic violence, language, oral sex, penetrative sex, implied dom!reader, emotional manipulation, mention of psychopathic characters, implied torture

Synopsis:  You admire your captain, your beloved Capt. Kim Namjoon. You admire him so much that you wanted to be by his side always, well, quite literally. Under his office desk, inside his apartment, on his bed and even on his dangerous mission against a vicious Mafia leader named Jeon Jungkook.

He’s been so obsessed in Jungkook, his formidable enemy on his entire career, that he’s been trying to apprehend him for years. Until both of you uncovered an unsettling truth as to why he always slithers: there’s a mole within your department.

Namjoon kicked the door hard with his combat boots, took cover immediately from the wall behind him, before aiming his gun to the direction of the open entryway.

“Freeze!” he shouted.

Yet he was the one that was left frozen at the scene. Two men, thin as a stick, were staring blankly at the ceiling. Clearly passed out with rubbers wrapped around their arms, old scabs and fresh jabs on their skin. Several discarded needles were left lying on the floor.

They look so oblivious from the presence of Namjoon and his team that you can’t help but call him out “Namjoon, I think we’re late” you shook your head, as you watched their cold and drugged out bodies sitting on a plastic chair, heads resting on the air.

“We are, they’re both dead” Hoseok said after checking their pulse. He stared at them for a moment, as if saying a prayer as he shuts their eyes gently with his finger.

Namjoon walked around the room and picked a used foil and a paper with logo of a lotus flower “Jungkook…” he mumbled to himself as he crumpled the paper and threw it on the floor in fury.

“Are you sure it’s him?” you went to pick it up and checked. It was definitely the symbol of his organized syndicate.

“Positive” Namjoon’s blood suddenly rushed in and felt nauseous at the thought, as he shut his eyes, hoping that he was wrong about it.

“It was a close one...” Hoseok rummaged through the pockets of the two men, but he found none.

“I was so sure, they’ll be here. Him and his men. But why does it look like they knew... You think” you shut your eyes and gasped, realizing what Namjoon might have just thought of earlier. “there’s a mole within the Department?” you continued, slowly turning around to see Namjoon’s reaction. His face turned grim and just weakly nodded.

“I trust that you two would keep this a secret, until we find who it is…” Namjoon swore. It wasn’t about money or his ego any longer, he wanted to end this. For years. Whatever this was, he wanted to stop people from dying, stop wasting innocent lives, end the fear of women and children always being on the brink of death.

“Roger” Hoseok nodded.

“Roger, Captain!” you blinked and stood up. You and Hoseok tapped Namjoon’s shoulder, assuring him that you two were on his side. Always on his side.

You and Hoseok stood behind closed doors, but it was very apparent that the chiefs and the  Department heads were clearly upset at the result of your team’s recent mission.

“Goddamit! We told you to think things through Kim and you blew it! You got one shot! One fucking shot, and you didn’t even get to meet a single strand of his hair!” the deputy chief exclaimed.

“What a waste of the city tax, really, you haven’t given us any valuable result” the Department head, fixed his paper and put everything inside his briefcase.

Namjoon just stood there, taking every thing silently. He was called names before, been spatted, got hit, everything. He’s the man who’s been through all horrible things and yet he still took it in. No wonder why you’ve like this guy, there’s something incredibly attractive about an underdog filled with potentials. It’s as if you’re hearing a club of hyenas around a lion, waiting for it to roar. He was the kind of leader you want to solemnly swear your loyalty, and that was the reason why you were there.

After the sham meeting, you and Hoseok just followed Namjoon towards your office room. He was clearly angry and frustrated, as well. But more than that he was determined to find another chance to get close to Jungkook . Namjoon went to his desk silently, and studied recent reports and profiles of people on his desk, piled and unkept.

Hoseok, feeling unnecessarily guilty, excused himself to get the team sandwiches from a nearby store.

You on the other hand, had something in mind to ease Namjoon’s frustration. “Hey there” you whispered on his ear. “Not here, Y/N. Not today” his eyes still concentrated on the screen. You gently pressed his shoulders, unbothered at his plea and made gentle circular motion, caressing his stiff shoulder blades. You slowly crouched down to kiss his ears and traced it down his neck. “You know what reminds me of your stiffness?” you chuckled.

“I said stop!” his quick reflex surprised you, as he held on to your wrist. His eyes stern, full of resolved. You stood up, and knew that he wasn’t up for any games.

“I just heard everything from the meeting. It’s hard to miss.” You folded your arms, as you watched him turn his back on you again and type disordered words on his screen. “Try, typing Gwangjin-gu, April 16…” you reached out for his hands to guide his finger from each letter on the keyboard, as he suddenly groaned softly to the sensation of your warm hands.

You smirked, seeing him freeze for a second. You crouched back down again and slowly reached for his legs hiding underneath his desk. “You know, it takes Hoseok about half an hour to get back? No one’s around. I’m sure you needed to let loose of that tension” you spoke softly, while caressing his legs. He slowly turned around from his seat and opened his legs.

“Give me 10 minutes tops, Captain” you smirked as you knelt down, and unclasped his belt.

Namjoon just stared at you blankly for a second, thoughtless and unsure. But as soon as he felt the warmth that you give right in the middle of his legs, he cursed and responded in pure ecstasy. You watched him toss his head and covered his mouth, trying not to cry out your name, but you love it. You love seeing your beloved Captain, the one people look up with so much pride and respect, becomes susceptible to your touch.

You were lounging in the smoking area during your break time, even though you aren’t smoker. You just like being outside, on a bench, and beside a vending coffee machine where you could refill your own cup.

“Hm, Sun Tzu’s Art of War” you heard Namjoon’s voice from behind. You nodded in agreement, as you finished the last line of the page and flipped it to the next.

“Read this about 9 times, still holds true” you replied, not leaving your gaze towards the book.

“I got a lead” he pulled out his cup from the vending machine and scoot beside you on the bench. You closed your book and turned to face him. Namjoon peered behind you, and looked around before he dropped the name “Seokjin”. You squint your eyes, trying to figure out how Namjoon arrived at his conclusion.

“You mean Kim Seokjin from the Hi-tech Crime Unit?” you spoke softly towards him, making sure no one hears even when it was only the two of you in the area.

He nodded, grinning. “I always wonder how he received information about them, everyone in his unit is as competent as he is but he would always get the best lead”

You smiled, finally beginning to piece things together. “It does seem odd Namjoon. It doesn’t make sense, but it does seem bizarre? How does he get those information?” you stared at Namjoon and smirked “I never thought of that, Captain. As always, that’s pretty smart of you to---”

“Y/N!” you heard someone call.

“Speak of the devil” you smiled at Namjoon then at Seokjin.

“Meet you after office hours?” Seokjin ran up to you, handing you a bag of sandwich. Namjoon tilt his head in confusion.

“Yeah sure” you blushed, turning your head to the floor at Seokjin’s sweet gesture.

“Y/N, are you…. Are you two going out? Since when?” Namjoon stood up, puzzled at the scenario. Clearly, you have left him out of the picture, but it’s not like you owe him anything. Besides weren’t you two clear about the position you two are in? Just colleagues trying to help each other out? Out of convenience?

“Kind of like that. Well, you never asked about our private lives, Cap” you chuckled. Not that he doesn’t care, but you know how much he respects his colleague’s personal space. Well, except on some occasion when you two needed to satisfy each other’s need. “Give me a minute, I just need to talk to my superior” you faced Seokjin for a moment and watched him wait for you at a distance.

“Cap, I’m sorry.” You cleared your throat and continued “The news surprised me too, and I didn’t know how to tell you. Can you trust me? I’ll try to look on to this. I swear, feelings won’t get involved. If I happen to find anything that might point a connection against Seokjin and Jungkook, I’ll let you know immediately”

“And what if he is? Are you okay with it? You know what will happen if he becomes part of our custody” he asked, worriedly.

You shut your eyes and nodded “I’m aware. I’ve been seeing him Jin for half a month now. It’s nothing compared to you, Cap” you looked down, refusing to look back at him, not when you just confessed your feelings for him albeit indirectly.

“Y/N…” he spoke softly.

“You don’t have to say anything.” You shook your head “I know this is purely work, lives are on the line…” You begrudgingly replied, then you paused. “That’s why I’ll make sure I’ll get compensated well on this” you slowly turned your gazed at him, now smirking.

“I can only pay what the government give--- ” you stopped him mid-sentence by pointing a finger on his lip, raising yourself up, tip-toed.

“Not that silly” He tilt his head again in confusion. “You, wrapped around my fingers. Go figure.” You whispered on his ear and chuckled. You turned around, and left him wondering on his own. It took him a moment before he realized what you meant. He bashfully chuckled at the thought.

After spending more time with Seokjin for months, you’ve finally gathered valuable information to report directly to Namjoon, which entails you in meeting him straight to his own apartment each night.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” he asked, as he gathered his boxer he left from the floor. You remained still in bed, panting after doing a marathon with Namjoon. Namjoon opened his window to let the cold breeze enter his dull room.

You turned sideways and watched him moved out from the bed, savoring his bareness. “Nearly, ready”

He tied his discarded condom and threw it on the trash bin “Y/N, whatever happens tomorrow. I just want to let you know that I---” he paused, trying to construct what he was about to say.

You sat up, despite remaining bare “Shh” You reached him out for a kiss.

“If things goes bad tomorrow, I want you to know that you mean so much to me” he took your wrist and kissed the back of your hand, his lips pressed hard as if hoping that his pure intentions will get through your skin.

You shook you head. “Aren’t I just a colleague, Namjoon?” you smiled weakly, reminding him of the reality that you are just there for him… for his own convenience.

He cupped your cheek and kissed you again. “You’re my partner, in everything Y/N”

You parted and smile. “I’m glad you feel that way” you pushed him back to bed, and pulled his boxers off again, almost ripping it to two. You wanted to let him know he wasn’t wrong, about feeling that you are his.

He was clearly surprised at your reaction, and flustered upon seeing you right above him. You smiled, amused at the view. To see your beloved Captain in such a vulnerable position. And like a clockwork, you sat comfortably on his waist as you pulled his wrists towards you. You forced his palms open with yours and directed it to your chest, letting him feel you again.

You closed your eyes, as you let him cup you gently “Captain..” you breathed his name while you shut your eyes, and began moving your hips slowly.

“Shit” he quickly got hard again, and you felt that. You felt his excitement again after you shamelessly teased your beloved Captain. You took a sealed condom from  the bed side table and placed it on his harden length. He pulled one of his hand away and held on to it, then guided his length towards your entrance. You opened your eyes and smile.

“Ready for a second?” you asked. You watched him nod, as he began to push it in within you,  both of you cursed almost synchronously at the ecstatic sensation. You tossed your head, and began moving your hips.

He held on to your waist, and you relished on it. You relished the way your Captain held on to you, you relished at the sight of seeing someone strong like him depended on you for comfort and affirmation. Exhilarated at the view of him below you, exhilarated at the thought of your own superior, down at your mercy.

Seokjin informed the Investigation Department again, which the assignment was promptly relayed again to your team: “Apprehend Jungkook and his men in #32 Namdo Building Gangseo-gu District”

At the same time, Namjoon informed the Investigation Department of his suspicion against Seokjin.

“You sure, Kim? If you’re wrong about this, not only will you lose Seokjin’s trust but your whole credibility as a Captain…” Mr. Song, one of the Investigation head, reminded Namjoon.

��I am certain sir. One of my partner, Y/N, was able to gather pieces of evidence that may point out his guilt in conniving with Jeon Jungkook” he bowed and handed him a manilla envelope containing the things you took from Seokjin, secretly.

“Very well, we will take Seokjin in to custody after I examine these things. Good luck on your mission” he bid Namjoon good luck as he watched Namjoon ran towards his car while it rained.

“Point A to D clear” you heard Hoseok speak from you and Namjoon’s ear piece.

“Copy” you subtly replied from your microphone hidden inside your shirt. “Ready, Mr. Kim?” you fixed his necktie inside the car. He didn’t reply, his eyes were burning with hatred. You’ve never seen him this determined to be able to see Jungkook, his formidable enemy, finally in the flesh.

You and Namjoon, took great lengths over these past few weeks to be able to secure a seat on this secret meeting with the boss himself, Jeon Jungkook. Despite at his tender age of 22, he was able to amass a fortune more than his father and his forefathers could ever gain. And now at the age of 24, he was able to bring down all his enemies. Rumor has it, he would clear out his enemy’s entire family line so that no one could ever attempt to take revenge against the whole Jeon family.

But Namjoon was ready to risk it all, even if his own family was on the line. He was willing to wager everything he has, just to end his lunacy. Yet he still couldn’t bring to himself the idea of risking and losing you against Jeon.

“Y/N, if anything goes bad, I want you to run as far as you could. Away from this, okay? You know how vindictive Jungkook can be” he stared at you, longingly.

“Joon” you shook your head and corrected yourself “I mean Captain, I’m trained to face whatever remember? Whatever happens, I’ll show up. It’s part of my job---”

“Okay, lovebirds, enough chit-chat. You know this is recorded right? We’ll be handling our conversation to the heads, unless you wanted to let them know about your secret affair or whatever this is… God, it’s awkward listening to you two!” Hoseok said on the other line.

You chuckled. “Can we have this off-record? Anyway, he’s right Captain. Time’s running. You need to get to your sit there now, as Mr. Kim the representative of Fiery Brothel of Songpa-gu District. I’ll stay here, make sure everything is working according to plan, alright?” you pat his collar and checked his ear piece if it was greatly secured. “All dashing and ready!” you smiled at him.

Namjoon introduced himself as Mr. Kim to a man in red suit “I speak on behalf of my superior Mr. Co, who manages Fiery Brothel in Songpa-gu owned by the Jeon” The man in red suit just nod and led you inside the building.

At first, Namjoon was confused as to why he was led inside a burger chain. Then he turned to the left hallway and entered inside the “authorized personnel staff room”, Namjoon followed. The room was cramped and filled with cleaning tools, food and personal hygiene products and other things.

The man pulled out the fire extinguisher from the glass box, where he found a button hidden behind it. He suddenly pressed it twice, paused then thrice, paused then once. It was a secret code. The wall started to separate from top to bottom, unfurling another secret entryway that leads to a speakeasy bar-cum-opium den.

Namjoon quickly recognized few faces around, from the head of the other government department, to local celebrities, even the sons and daughter of influential businessmen were there. Gambling, out of wits, high from the aroma of opium mixed with other things.

They continued to walk, the man in red suit clearly unbothered, as if it was regular business. Namjoon gulped and tried to calm himself, putting a mental note on everything he saw and commit it to his memory. He’ll be needing it once he get his hands on Jungkook. Everything he sees right now, everything he owns, he wanted to see him lose it. He wanted his downfall. he was confident that after that night he’ll finally put everything to its end.

“This is as far as I can lead you sir” the man stopped in front of the door, bowed and opened it for Namjoon.

There it was the high table. Only 6 men, sitting on each side of the table, making him the last and the seventh member to the meeting. His heart was pounding fast, hands starting to grow cold, shaking uncontrollably. Little sweat beads were forming behind his neck, it’s as if he was drugged and out of wits as well, except his feeling was driven by his own fear.

Just a few second upon entering, he saw Taehyung and Jimin enter first from the front door of the room. He presumed it was an exclusive entryway for Jungkook and his trusted men, in case something bad happens, but nothing bad ever happened when they’re there. Taehyung and Jimin were his only trusted men. They were skilled, precise, ruthless and cold to the core. They would blindly kill anyone and even everyone for Jungkook, even if it cost their lives.

Jimin, narrowed his eyes towards Namjoon while he chew on his bubblegum. Taehyung, on the other hand, watched the other men shake in fear too. All were waiting for the boss himself to enter the room.

The room was white and bare, almost blinding to the eyes. The only color that was present are their ashen faces (except Taehyung and Jimin), their black clothes and the long dark-red oaken wood table and its matching chair. And finally, he was there, all in flesh.

No longer a picture posted on his office walls. No longer a dream, that woke up him up each night in fright. This was Jeon Jungkook.  Young, tall, handsome, almost perfect that he can pass up as a god. Well, technically, he is, because he is the kind who plays like one. Because any mistake they omit in his presence can swiftly translate to a painful death.

Everyone rose from their seat to show their respect and fear towards him. Jungkook smiled. Too kind and too sweet, as if he looked innocent. But everyone knew better, he wasn’t the slightest bit of it. When he sat from his chair on the front, everyone followed, except Jimin and Taehyung who stood there to watch over.

Jungkook listened to each person during the meeting, he was attentive, alert and smart. He was the kind of leader that would bring shame to the whole police department, perhaps the whole country. Everything that runs out of his mouth were well-thought, intelligible and thorough. He didn’t leave a single issue unresolved, and the men quickly took note of it. The men were so scared that they just nodded without any further question. Jungkook like things brief, and hated being interrupted. The moment he finds someone that annoys him, Taehyung, a sharp shooter, will place a single bullet straight through their head. Not even letting them finish their first word.

“Actually, I’m sure you are all aware of the situation you are in right now, don’t you? I called everyone for a meeting because some of you are doing a very, very poor job” he grinned at everybody, nose a bit scrunched, like a harmlessly little bunny pouncing sunshine on each person on the table. Yet everyone looked down, nervous and grim. So did Namjoon.

Namjoon wasn’t aware of it. Neither anyone on the team. What was Jungkook thinking? Did he knew? Did Seokjin informed him that they’ll be attempting to take him in? Sh--

“Shit!” one of them men screamed in fear as he tried to ran towards the door, but before he could take another step from his sit, Jimin managed to throw his dagger in his head which passed through his eye and pinned his body down the floor.

“Tsk” Jungkook shook his head in disappointment. “Atleast, we were able to eliminate a coward in this group. Anyone wants to follow?” he raised his eyebrow as he chuckled again. Clearly entertained at the sight of blood.

No one dared to speak, not even a sound of whimper. “Very well, now that no one wants to speak for themselves, I would, for everyone’s behalf. I need to keep my business flowing, and you all are doing a terrible job. Thus, it’s unfortunate to inform everyone in this room that no one will survive today…” Right upon hearing it, Taehyung fired his gun towards 3 other men on his side and Jimin with his daggers flying and pinning the remaining 2 heads to the wall on his side, simultaneously and precise. “Except you, Kim Namjoon.” He blinks slowly and smiled at his direction.

“How does it feel to finally meet your nightmare?” he stood up and went to his direction.

Suddenly, Namjoon heard Hoseok cursing on the other end “Namjoon, it’s a trap! They knew! If you’re still there, run! Quickly! The mole told everything about us!”

“Where’s Y/N?” Namjoon asked Hoseok, but you only heard noises from his end.

“Y/N?” Jungkook asked. “You know I don’t like it when I don’t have someone’s full attention”

“Where is she? My partner! Did you take her? Did you kill her?” Namjoon immediately stood up from his seat, demanding Jungkook for an answer. Jimin swiftly threw his dagger to pin Namjoon’s legs back to his seat while Namjoon cried in shock and pain .

“You know I wouldn’t dare you pissing Jimin any longer Namjoon, unlike Taehyung he doesn’t have much patience. If you try to move again, I swear the next time will be a bullet from Taehyung’s gun and it’s far more painful than Jimin’s knife… and I can’t assure you where he wants to aim it. Sit” he spoke calmly, and strangely alluring yet intimidating.

Hoseok spoke again “The mole is here! Seokji----- scchhhht” Taehyung went to Namjoon side and pulled the ear piece away from him, threw it on the floor and stepped on it.

“Where is she?!” Namjoon demanded, eyes intensely fixated on Jungkook.

Taehyung crouched down and slapped his mouth. “You’re not asked to speak” he took the broken ear piece from the floor and pushed it inside Namjoon’s mouth “You better listen!”

Namjoon gagged a bit and spit the shattered pieces “Enough Taehyung, I bet he’s got it” Jungkook commanded.

“You and Seokjin will pay for what you did to Y/N!” he screamed, his fear already absent upon realizing the possibility of losing you for good.

“Seokjin? Who is he?” Jungkook chuckled. “While, it’s true there’s a mole within you” he sat on the table, just inches away Namjoon. “It’s not Seokjin, whoever he may be, I never met the guy. He sounded like a nice guy” he shrugs, still smiling. “Give you a clue, try to think who is out of reach right now?” he taps his temple.

Namjoon paused. When he realized who it was, his blood rushed up to his head, leaving him cold, nauseated and in pain. “No, it can’t be”

There you were, entering the room from the door in front of everyone inside. Safe and unharmed “Hey love, I miss you so much!” you quickly ran towards Jungkook and jumped to give him a long pressing kiss.

“No… but why?” Namjoon’s eyes started to cloud with his own tears.

“Love, why don’t you tell him?” Jungkook pouted as he turned to face you, and pulled you in closer, letting you sit on his lap.

“Well, I got bored here. I decided I want to play police. That’s why I’m here, but I got bored too, so I decided to come back” you smiled at Namjoon then at Jungkook “to you, love”

Jungkook chuckled, his nose scrunched again in a bunny like manner, as he point his finger against your nose and tapped it “That’s my girl, isn’t she cute when she gets bored?” he asked Namjoon.

“But everything, what we’ve been through, were they all lies?”

You shook your head still smiling “Not everything, no. Well, except everything about Seokjin, and the brothel and Mr.Co…” you rolled your eyes, sluggishly “Didn’t I tell you I’ll make sure everything goes according to plan? I mean, my plan that is…” you shrugged.

“How?” Namjoon’s head fell to his chest, clearly desperate, praying that everything he was hearing from you weren’t true.

“Well for starters, it’s really not hard to fake documents, my background then my history… You’ve seen the opium den earlier didn’t you? The head of National Office Record is pretty much a regular these days, we just gave him a little freebies and then we’re good. But you sir, you were pretty interesting, I really had a great time!” you nodded.

“It was actually me who subtly planted the idea that it was Seokjin, it was me who gave Seokjin information, the exact location and a glimpse of our plan, well without telling him I am part of the group that is” you playfully traced your finger on Jungkook’s neck, letting Namjoon watch while he aches at everything. The reality that was unfolding before him.

“I was the one who curated random stuff as your evidence, made up stories about a non-existent Mr. Co and the Fiery Brothel in Songpa-gu, reserved a seat for you in the meeting and voila!  You’re here! Isn’t great, love?” you gave Jungkook a peck on his lips and he nodded.

“Y/N” Namjoon cried

“You know Namjoon? I really like you, that’s pretty much true. But this man right here” you turn to Jungkook and playfully squeezed his cheek “I love him so much, I’m willing to give my life for him. That’s the difference. To be by your side, quite literally and to be by his side, forever, wherever I may be” Jungkook giggled at your declaration for his love.

“Please say it’s a lie! Tell me, you’re being forced by him, just say it. Please, I love you!” Namjoon screamed

“Stop, Namjoon” you watched him in pity. “Didn’t I tell you? We’re just bunch of colleagues…”

“Boss, what are you going to do with him?” Jimin’s eyes remained focused against Namjoon while he pops his gum.

“Love, what do you plan?” Jungkook gazed at you lovingly, while he was fixing your hair.

“He’s where he is supposed to be. A captain who just lost the trust of his superior and his men, just because of a woman. Isn’t it a tragic story, the story of a naïve pawn? This way love, you’ll be able to move freely with your business.” You stared at Jungkook’s lips, resisting to kiss him while he revel at your impregnable intellect.

“As usual, impressive as always” Jungkook nods as he kissed you again. “Let him live, so he’ll be able to tell our tale, a precautionary one to not screw with us”

“Y/N” Namjoon pleaded.

“Namjoon, you were the best Captain really. Thank you for the memories” you smiled.

Then Taehyung swiftly hit Namjoon in the face, leaving him unconscious, but only for a while.

Namjoon blinked at the sensation of rain drop falling over his face. Next thing he knew, people in scrubs were rushing towards him, raised him up from the pavement outside the hospital and secured his tired body on a stretcher.

“Sir, are you okay? Do you know where you are? Do you remember who left you here?” Namjoon was so oblivious at the moment, that he just tried to pull himself up to see if everything that happened earlier was a dream.

Until something fell from the inside of his coat. He picked it up “The Art of War by Sun Tzu?” he opened a page and saw a little note from you that says

“An enemy of my enemy is my FRIEND :) - Y/N”

Even when this rain stops, when the clouds go away I stand here, just the same Without saying anything, looking at the world There, a not so beautiful me is looking at myself In this rain In this rain

Rain by BTS

A/N: Thank you for giving time and reaching this far. This is my first attempt in making a smut fic so please be kind >.< This fic is actually my birthday gift for Slyn (SLL-AW Fictions) she’s a writer from YT who pushed me to try doing one too. Her bias is Jungkook so, naturally, the story ended with Y/N falling in the arms of Jungkook.

This is also nod and an attempt to honor one of my all time favorite fanfic, the BEST EVER CREATED on the internet about BTS: “House of Card by Sugamins” (if you know, you know 😉 )

I am so whipped for Master Jeon Jungkook that I just 👁️👄👁️. I didn’t want to recreate the verse, because I just can’t... I could never. House of Card is like a whole level of superiority and I’m just...a nursery...

Although, I borrowed the dark environment and the emotions involved in the characters... but I am totally disclaiming it to be a part of the verse. I’m a huge fan, I’m sorry I’m geeking out 😭 (Sugamins if you ever see this, I love you and thank you!! 😭 huge fan!!)

Slyn’s favorite genre are mafia, action, and romance (specifically with Jungkook). She’s aware of House of Cards too so yeah..

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed “In The Rain” :).

PS.  If you haven’t read “House of Card” please do! It’s on a03! Google it! BUT YOU HAVE TO BE 18 and above... and open to like practically everything! Read the warning signs first before you proceed. But I swear, it’s the best out there!!! (you’ll know why it hit a million views once you finished. That fic should be in a book, and I’ll gladly buy several copies!

ALSO, I’m so sorry for making Y/N a villain/psychopath. As well as Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung. Forgive me. It was raining hard one day while listening to Rain on by BTS and the ending scene just came up to my mind and I happen to work on it since... :<

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

Dimension Jumping Pt. 5

Comforting a grieving hobbit and time get everyone ready to go out!

Via the genius idea from katzrfsoa / Kat88

There's been mention of the reader not wanting to take the groups out, for fear of the public's reaction... so what about a cosplay convention? it would give the Reader the perfect excuse to allow them out, and they would wear their original clothes 

----

This morning has been uneventful for the most part.

Breakfast passed by without issue and now everyone is off doing their own things.

You looked outside and took a peek in the guest room, but you still can't find him.

Sam, Merry, and Pippin are playing a board game you showed them; Legolas is doing his meditation sleep thing; Boromir and Aragorn are discussing something; and Gimli is stacking bread on Legolas' leg to see how long it takes until he notices.

Frodo, however, is missing at the moment.

Right as you were considering telling the others of his disappearance, however, you heard some shuffling from your hall closet.

You open the door carefully and take peer inside, not wanting to startle the small hobbit, and at first you don't see him.

There's more shuffling and you hear a quiet sniff, followed by soft sobs, and you then realize he's hiding behind the shelf.

The door makes a soft clicking sound when you close it, and right away the quiet cries cease. You didn't want to alert him with the door, you wanted to do it yourself, but it's too late now, so you just go with it.

"Frodo?" You call in a gentle voice, staying by the door incase he wants you to go.

"Y-Yes?' He calls back, not moving from his spot.

His voice is thick with emotion, and the sadness in his tone makes your heart ache painfully. And when you walk closer and see him huddled up behind the shelf, your heart breaks a little for him.

He hastily rids his cheeks of any evidence of his sorrows, though the puffiness around his eyes and constant sniffles don't much help his cause, and looks at you with a false smile.

"Frodo, why are you crying?" You ask with furrowed eyebrows, kneeling down in front of him so you may look at him at eye level (mostly).

"It's nothing." He tells you quickly, looking away from your compassionate face with the same sad frown on his lips.

When you don't move to get up or leave, his gaze slides back over to you and he realizes that you're not going to leave unless he straight up tells you to go away. This makes him sigh, but truthfully, he doesn't want you to go away. Not really. For having company in a time of sorrow always mends suffering.

"I... did not have a proper time to mourn Gandalf. I've been so caught up in the oddity that is this place that I almost forgot my sorrows altogether, but then this morning is all... came rushing back." He explains with a surprisingly even voice.

While he speaks you cross your legs and listen along intently, your hands folded neatly in your lap. When he finishes, you reach forward and place your hand atop his with a gentle touch, "I didn't know him, but I can tell he was very dear to you. Honestly, I can't offer much advice, but I can tell you that keeping it all bottled up inside is not a good idea."

He looks at you with that sad face when you speak, and it prompts you to continue, "Also, I know everyone else can be pretty overwhelming or they just don't understand, and I want you to know that I'm always here to listen if you're feeling down, okay?"

Your words draw a small smile from the grieving hobbit and it elicits a similar grin from you.

"Thank you, Y/N. I... actually do feel a little better."

"I'm glad."

---

After your discussion with Frodo you rejoin everyone back out in the main room and let him recollect himself, going right onto your laptop to get some work done.

You're idly scrolling through a scholarly article you need to research when you see it.

An advertisement for some sort of comic book, cosplay, convention... thing in the area (no wonder you've been seeing so many oddly dressed people recently).

At first you almost scroll past it, but then you get hit with the brick of knowledge and a lightbulb goes off in your head.

"Yes!" You scream, successfully scaring everyone in the room and Penny who is sitting with you for once. "Ohh, my god. This is freaking perfect!" You exclaim, clicking on the link to get some more information.

Your eyes practically soak up everything on the information page, and, once you've skimmed through all of it, you look up with a bright smile on your face.

Literally all of them are looking at you like you've grown two heads, but you only clap your hands together a few times. "Guys, I just had a huge brain moment!"

The joke goes over their heads as per usual, but you don't let that deter you.

"Huge brain moment?" Pippin asks in confusion, looking at his cousin like he thinks he heard it wrong or something.

"Yes! I've figured out a way to take everyone out!"

That certainly gets their attention.

"You have?" Sam asks exuberantly, dropping his game piece so he can turn towards you and pay perfect attention.

"I have, yes," you start, continuing once you're 100% sure they're all paying attention, "So here's the thing, I knew that I could take out you tall boi's without issue besides having to find a hat for Legolas here, and I could explain that Gimli here has dwarfism," you pause at that and realize it may be offensive to him, but you continue once more, "but I also knew that there's no way I can explain away the hobbits, and then I found this gem."

You turn the computer so it faces all of them, but they only look more confused.

"There's a convention thing in town for the next week, and it's the perfect opportunity for me to bring everyone out! We just have to dress up the hobbits a bit and pretend that they're children."

At your explanation you receive multiple pleased smiles, and it serves to make you feel even better about your idea. "And you can all wear your normal clothes, too. And if someone asks who you are... I'll figure out a game or something you guys can use as an alias."

"Are you sure that will work?" Aragorn asks with furrowed eyebrows, sitting up from his spot in your arm chair.

"Um, like, maybe 98%." You confirm with a shrug, "It's better than 88% though."

He doesn't seem like he disagrees with you, so you look back at your laptop again and start to look for ideas to make them more believable as humans.

---

3 hours of research later, and you've successfully compiled a completely fool proof plan to smuggle this merry band of bizarre boys out of your house.

What you've decided is that you'll put some makeup over Legolas' pointy ears to make them look more fake since the concept of elves is not lost in this world. Boromir and Aragorn can go as themselves, and you'll put some makeup on the hobbits much like you will Legolas (they'll be children elves since there are no hobbits in your world) and tell everyone who asks how they look so good that you're a professional makeup artist.

Gimli, fortunately for you, was the easiest to come up with something for next to the other two humans of this group. You can just tell people he has dwarfism and that's why he chose to go as a dwarf character.

Everything is in order except for what you're going to do, though you suppose you should match their theme and be some sort of renaissance, maiden, lady, thing. You'll figure it out, though you do need to make sure it's convincing like theirs.

You decided to, instead of putting it off, go ahead and start working on finding a costume to match theirs.

A couple of searches later and you come across a really pretty dress that looks to fit their style, and when you show it to them they give you the thumbs up, so you order it with express shipping so it should arrive tomorrow.

It's a lovely flowy medieval dress *just look up flowy medieval dress and go to images, there are some good examples there*, and you feel excited just looking at it. Of course, there's no guarantee that it'll be the best quality, but it's got great reviews and you certainly paid a hefty sum for it.

After that's done with you head to your bathroom to see what makeup you've got, and you find that you don't really have any theatrical/special effects makeup. You're going to need skin colored wax makeup, powders, and contour stuff.

You're no makeup artist, obviously, but luckily for you, your goal is to make them look less realistic, so it should be easy enough.

It's surprisingly easy to figure out what you need to make them as convincing as possible, and pretty soon you've got a nice little list going on that outlines each thing you need.

Since you don't want to delay anymore, you head out of your bathroom and grab your bag while putting on your shoes, "Legolas, I'm leaving now if you wanna come with." You suggest since he stated his desire to join you in the one of the last chapters (:o).

When you call his name he looks over at you quickly, smiling a bit at your offer, "Yes, but you said I need a hat."

"Oh yeah! I have one, just gimme a sec." You tell him, walking over to a drawer.

When you open said drawer, you find a grey beanie with ease and toss it over to him, "Here ya go. Make sure it covers your ears... and uh, tuck your hair up into it too if you don't mind."

He does as you say with ease and, surprisingly, he looks just as good with shorter hair as he does longer hair.

It sticks kinda awkwardly at first, so you waltz on over and gesture for him to crouch down so you don't have to reach up.

Once again he does as you request and leans down so you may fix it.

You adjust it a bit to make sure it won't fall first, and then you smooth it back a bit so it'll also look stylish. And once you're done you take a step back and smile at him brightly.

"All done! Let's go!"

---

He seemed rather fascinated in the way your car works first and foremost, but once you got him to look out his window instead of watching you, his excitement quickly turned into awe.

When you both get to the ULTA store he follows you without hesitation and asks some hushed questions about things he sees, like the light up signs, other passing cars, stoplights, and some other things.

You, of course, answer each question happily and lead him inside, holding the door open for him while he enters and looks around the brightly lit up makeup store.

Right away you head towards the general direction of the nose and scar wax (it's multi purpose, don't judge me), forgetting to make sure that Legolas follows you.

When it does occur to you, however, that the blond elf didn't come after you, you panic.

You turn in a circle and only stop when you see him standing with some ladies who practically have hearts in their eyes.

Unconsciously you breathe a sigh of relief and head over with the wax in your little basket, immediately reaching up to wrap your arm around his, "I got the first thing on my list, come on."

The girls stop their giggles and flirting as soon as you show up and look genuinely surprised.

You give them a smile and nod in acknowledgement, not wanting to make them feel bad over something so silly before turning with your arm still around his own and walking him over to look at some contour stuff and other things.

They make some snide comments when you turn your back about you being a 'clingy girlfriend' and 'not pretty enough to be with a model like that', but you only ignore it and relish in the fact that you didn't make them feel bad over something as silly as a cute guy in a makeup store.

"Why are those women talking about you like that?" He asks in a whisper, leaning down so only you will hear his question.

You look up at him with a bit or surprise since you didn't expect him to pick up on that, before you smile, "They're attracted to you, and they think that I was being selfish with taking you away from their advances."

"Selfish? Advances?" He looks confused, but you only smile and turn back to the display case.

"Don't worry your pretty little head over it, Leggy my boy."

"Leggy?" He asks slowly, looking at you in confusion.

"Leggy." You confirm with a nod with a distracted hum.

It isn't much later that you have everything you need, and so you go to the checkout and buy everything.

"Going to the convention?" The girl at the counter asks with a smile.

You smile back and nod your head, glancing up at Legolas before looking back at her, "That obvious?"

"No of course not, just the items in your basket always fly off the shelves around convention time." She replies with a giggle, ringing up all your items.

"Well, that's fair." You muse, putting your card into the reader to pay for it.

Once everything is in order she hands you your receipt and adds, "Maybe I'll see you there."

"Maybe!" You chirp back happily, liking the nice conversation going on here.

"You and your boyfriend have a good day now!"

You elect to ignore that.

---

On the way home you pretend to not notice the black car following yours and make small talk with the elf, answering some more of his questions and speaking idly on different things.

"There are so many odd, interesting things here..." He comments after a while, glancing out the back window. "Are you aware that, that car has been following us for the past 10 minutes?"

You nod and hum as an answer, "Mmhm, it's just Brian. He's probably trying to figure out who you are."

The blond knits his eyebrows together and glances back to look at the car again, "Should I do something about it?"

"The only thing you can do is ignore it. He went from lowercase 's' stalker to uppercase 's' since you guys arrived, and it'll only get worse if you intervene." You mumble, trying not to look in the rearview mirror at him. "It's fine."

"You don't seem to think it's fine." He challenges in the same even tone, turning in his seat towards you.

Instead of answering his question you look at him while you stop at a light and grumble, "I told you to put your seatbelt on."

"It's uncomfortable."

"I don't care."

"I will be fine."

"Not if we get into a crash, you won't."

The two of you stare each other down before he slowly reaches up and buckles his belt, never breaking eye-contact.

"Good boy." You coo in a way-too sweet voice.

"Anyways, I know we said as much before, but you needn't worry about that man while we're here." He continues despite your obvious subject change.

"I know." Your reply is softer and less defensive this time, for you really do appreciate it, "Thank you."

He looks surprised at your sudden gratitude, and his expression shows as much "For what?"

"For being you. For looking out for me. All of you."

This time he smiles and says no more.

---

When you both get back to your house you immediately put everything in your bathroom and get onto your laptop to view some techniques on theatrical and movie makeup, Pippin and Merry on either side of you while they view through the pictures and videos with you.

"That one looks interesting." Merry pipes up suddenly, pointing at a person to wolf makeup transformation.

"Yep, and way past anything I can do."

This pattern of going through pictures and viewing clips goes on for a little while until they two hobbits depart to have lunch, meanwhile you continue on so that tomorrow will be a success.

You're both excited and nervous at the same time, wanting to see how it'll all turn out but also dreading it incase something goes wrong.

You know the most important thing is to have a positive mindset about it, but it's kinda hard sometimes during your more anxious moments.

Also, there's the issue of Brian possibly following all of you...

Nah, that'll be a problem to think on for tomorrow.

"What time will we leave tomorrow?" Aragorn asks from his usual spot on the rocking chair, Penny still nestled in his lap as per usual.

"Around the morning. I bought the tickets already so we won't have to stand in line for too long... Hopefully."

"Thank you for working so hard so that we may see more of your world." He comments suddenly, stroking his hand down her fluffy back.

You tilt your head to the side and smile a bit, "You don't have to thank me."

"No, I do. You have seen to our every need and we no doubt pose to be a huge burden. Thank you, really."

His words make you flush slightly, and you look away shyly.

You've grown to care about all of them, so of course you would do anything to keep them comfortable at this point. More than anything you're just glad they see how much you're trying to make things easy on them. It feels nice being recognized for your efforts.

Plus, the added protection from Brian is pretty sweet.

"Anything for you guys."

[captainrexforever]

Trials and Tribulations 2/2

Rating: T

Word count: ~6k

Summary: The reader discovers that she has formed a force bond with her Mandalorian companion. This has some unforeseen complications during the events at the Imperial refinery on Morak.

Warnings: angst, fluff, canon typical violence, more Dad! Fett, awkward! Din, use of in-universe curse words

Note: Part 2 at last! There are quite a few pov. changes, so I hope that they don’t interrupt the flow of the story too much. Happy reading, and I hope you enjoy! 

Pt. 1

After settling into the cockpit alongside Fett, the only thing you can do is wait for Fennec’s signal, but that doesn’t mean you have to be bored. 

“Is it too much to ask for a tour of the flight controls?” 

“I’m surprised it took you this long to ask.” He speaks honestly. 

You can only chuckle in response and shrug. “What can I say, I’m not used to holding a conversation with my crewmate.”

“I take it Mando doesn’t talk much.” 

His eyes search your face, and although you attempt to hold his gaze, your eyes fall to the floor as you answer. “No, he doesn’t.”

Fett only nods in response, and you have a sudden urge to change the subject. “So, I noticed that you wear your helmet while flying, even though all the screens are displayed on the console.”

He must note the change in topic, but he doesn’t bring it up. “Yes, I tied all the tracking technology into the visor of my helmet. That way if I have to aim at something while in flight, I can observe it through the viewport and follow the object with my eyes, as if aiming a real blaster.”

“Woah, that’s really cool.”

“Indeed. It’s an idea my father often shared with me, although he didn’t get the chance to implement the changes. I was finally able to make the alterations myself.” There’s a little bit of nostalgia in his voice, and you wonder if you should feel bad for bringing up a potentially sensitive topic. “Perhaps I can let you try it on the retrieval run.” Boba continues. 

“Oh, no, no, no, maybe later, thank you. I don’t want to jeopardize the mission with my novice flying skills.”

“Is that so? You project the aura of a competent pilot.”

“Yes, but it’s been a while since I’ve sat behind the controls of a ship.”

Fett raises a hand to his chin, as if stroking a non-existent beard. “So you didn’t fly Mando’s ship?” It’s definitely a question, but it comes off more like a statement. 

“Well, I...I usually left that to Mando, I felt like it was almost a form of relaxation for him and I didn’t want to take that away.”

“Can I give you some advice?” 

That throws you off a little. 

“Sure.”

“A Mandalorian’s ship is a precious possession, not as important to them as beskar or their code, but still. A ship represents a Mandalorian’s freedom and individuality. If you were allowed to live within that ship for what I estimate to be several months, there was something else going on.”

It feels like someone lodged their fist into your chest and squeezed all the air out of your lungs. Surely he couldn’t mean...“What, what do you mean? Are you saying he was desperate for help no matter the cost?”

Fett wants to bang his head on the console, then bang it against your head to knock some sense into you. No wonder you and the Mandalorian get along so well, you’re both absolutely clueless. 

“Do you know that he carried you up the ramp of this ship last week when you were on death’s door, demanding medical attention from me?” Your eyes widen in response. “When we eventually realized you were losing too much blood, his first instinct was to infiltrate a medical station to obtain the necessary blood samples for a transfusion. Lucky for him, I had some sequencing instruments aboard, and we were able to identify your blood type. By some miracle, you and he happen to possess the same blood.” The atmosphere is becoming more tense by the second, and you can only sit there as Fett recounts the events surrounding your recent injuries. “He stayed by your side during the entire two day flight to Nevarro, refusing to eat or sleep. With the amount of time he spent providing blood to the transfusion system, I was sure he would pass out from blood loss before we arrived.” A choked sound leaves your throat. “The second we landed, he was on his feet, clutching onto your body as he carried you to the Marshal’s office.” 

He lets his words sink in for a moment as he pins you underneath his gaze once again. “I have fought countless battles, lost many comrades, and seen fellow warriors suffer horrible injuries. But I have never seen a man so stricken with grief and despair at the thought of losing a fellow comrade-in-arms. It’s obvious you mean much more to him than either of you realize.” 

He notices that you’re in shock after taking in all of that information, and he opens his mouth to say one last thing. “If you want to take a seat in the hold and let yourself process all of that, I’ll let you know when I receive the cue to take off.” 

The sentence is uttered with kindness, and you can only nod, thankful for his understanding. In a second you’re slipping down the ladder to the main hold of the ship. 

Kriff. 

Tears bite at the corners of your eyes as you suppress a sniffle with your forearm. That damned Mandalorian has been holding out on you. It all makes sense now. The affection you sensed earlier, the brief moments where you often notice his gaze linger for a millisecond too long. He cares about you. The thought has you releasing a muffled sob into your palms, why has he never told you? You would have welcomed his affection and returned it a thousand fold, if he had ever offered you the chance. 

A spike of fear races up your spine suddenly, and you tense in response. There is a familiar tickling sensation in the back of your mind, and you realize that Din is unintentionally projecting on you. After what happened earlier, you’re sure that you are the last person he wants to communicate with. His fear washes over you again, this time accompanied by panic, and you know that something has gone terribly wrong. Feelings be damned, you need to know what is going on down there. A firm nudge against his thought process grants your mind access to his, and the singular pulsing thought that envelops your brain gives you an immediate headache. 

“This is for the kid. The kid needs me, I can do this for him. I can do this for the kid.”

“Din, what’s going on?”

“You need to leave right now.”

“Din, what’s going on, let me help.”

There is no response. You’re so frustrated right now that you want to punch him, and you must be projecting because he allows you to see one more thought. 

You gasp in disbelief and shock. 

“Din...no. You can’t take your helmet off.”

“This is for the kid, Y/n. There is no other way.”

“Your creed, your way. What will you do after you take it off?”

“I...I don’t know. This is the only way I can save him.”

A tear rolls down your cheek.

“I understand.” Then you pull yourself from his mind. 

Even faced with death, while you cried over his limp body, he had refused to remove his helmet. 

No, you don’t understand at all.

~~

By the time Mayfeld and Mando board the ship, you’re seated in the cockpit once again, desperately trying to keep a firm hold on your emotions. The ship rocks with the force of an explosion as Boba makes a hasty retreat. 

“We got company. Hang on.” He announces. 

The ship swerves to the side as he maneuvers away from the blasts of two tie fighters, and you watch in fascination as the scope on his helmet automatically drops into place in front of his visor. 

“These Imperial pilots can’t hit a damn thing.” He complains to you.

“Isn’t that a good thing for us?” You ask.

“I suppose. It isn’t much fun though.”

Wow. Maybe he and Din aren’t so different after all, or perhaps all Mandalorians are just crazy. 

“You wanted to learn about the controls, right? Flip that gold switch I’m pointing to.” He requests.

After grasping a hold of the pilot seat to keep yourself upright, you reach for the control panel and flip the switch. 

“Excellent, now take my helmet.” He removes it and holds it out to you. “Let me know when the two fighters are within 80 meters of each other.” 

You take the helmet eagerly, desperate for some type of combat action to block out your overwhelming emotions. The visor remains dark until the helmet thunks into place around your head, then it bursts into life. There are so many readings on the display that you are overwhelmed for a moment. 

“Look at the top right corner of the HUD, it’ll show you the close-range scans and a distance measurement for the two targets.”

“Got it. The display measures the distance at 100 meters.” 

“Alright, just wait a second. Standard flight path protocol will have them grouping up soon.”

Sure enough, the number plunges down to 90, then 85, then 82. Just a little bit closer…“Now!”

A light flashes somewhere on the HUD as a click filters through the helmet’s speakers. A glance at the top right corner of the display reveals a projectile moving towards the two tie fighters, and you grin at the resulting explosion. There is still a satisfied smile on your face when you hand the helmet back to Fett. 

“Nice shot. And thank you.” You hope that he understands your referring both to the advice he shared earlier, as well as his recent actions.

He nods. “Any time, vod.” 

“Vod?”

“It’s Mando’a, the closest term in Basic is ‘comrade’.” 

That spikes your interest and there is a burning question on the tip of your tongue, but you leave it for later.

“I’m gonna set the ship down, you might want to take a seat.” Fett breaks the silence. 

You scramble to follow his advice, and once the landing cycle is complete he rises from his chair. “Just a moment.” He elaborates, as he descends down the ladder. 

His absence leaves you with a quiet moment to reflect, and you hold your fisted hands out so you can list some facts and organize your frazzled thoughts. Ok, you tell yourself as you take a deep breath. 

One, Din cares about you. 

Two, you care about Din. 

Three, he cares for the child like a son. 

Four...what’s another fact? Dank farrik!

Four, you repeat as you rack your brain. Ah yes, Din’s Creed forbids him from revealing his face to another being.

Five, Din obviously knew he had no choice but to risk breaking his code. The choice was to either reveal his face, or abandon the child to a fate that could be worse than death. 

Six. Well, now that you think about it, you are being a little bit petty. You would also be willing to risk anything, if it was the only way to save the kid. Now that you’ve gone and said it, you feel a little ashamed. Poor Din doesn’t deserve to deal with the loss of his child and your foul mood at the same time. 

You decide to continue your list.

Seven, Boba Fett’s ship is cool as hell.

Eight, Din is kinda hot. Wait, what?! Hold on a second.

Eight, Din is...alright fine. He’s pretty hot. 

Nine, He does have very nice thighs.

Ten, He’s really attractive when he’s fighting.

Eleven, He’s...Wait, you only have ten fingers! 

You really need to get yourself under control, this is completely out of line. 

“Let’s hold tight up here for a moment, Mando’s putting on his kit.” 

You let out an undignified squeak, caught entirely by surprise. What you said earlier was becoming more and more true by the second, Mando and Boba weren’t so different after all. 

~~

Meanwhile in the small fresher, Mando is in the process of attaching his beskar chestplate when you start projectingly very loudly. A blush rises to his cheeks as you approach the end of your mental list. He has always hoped that you felt some semblance of affection towards him, but the thoughts you are currently entertaining are on a whole new level.

After the events in the refinery, he’s still a little shaken, but he feels he owes you an explanation for his recent behavior. Once the last piece of Beskar is attached to his figure, he prepares to ascend the ladder to the cockpit. But, when he approaches, he can distinctly make out your voice, as well as Fett’s.

“There are two words that I sometimes hear Mando use, and I think that they are from Mando’a. Would you mind translating them?”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“I did once. He didn’t answer.”

“What are they?”

“‘Verd’ and ‘ika’.”

“Interesting.” He strokes at his chin again. “It’s actually one word, verd’ika.” (Little warrior)

“Oh. What does it mean?”

“It means…” 

Oh no, Din thinks. I need to break this up right now. 

“What’s the status on Cara and Fennec?” He blurts out. Affection and amusement fill him when he notices you jump slightly in your seat at his sudden appearance. 

“They should be approaching our position at any moment now.”

Din nods. He realizes he’s awkwardly lingering at the base of the ladder now, but he can’t let Fett share that translation with you. Not yet. Not until he is able to explain himself.

“Fett, could you provide me with the materials to replace the cooling core in my blaster? All my spare parts and tools were on my ship.” 

Boba stares him down. He knows exactly what Din is trying to do. Din sighs, he is far too fatigued, mentally and emotionally, to deal with this right now. He’s just about to give up when Fett gives him a sharp nod, plops his helmet over his head, and rises from his chair before descending into the hull. Din notices him shoot you an apologetic look, which you respond to with a tight-lipped smile. 

Now that at least one disaster has been avoided, Din turns to follow through with his made-up task. A voice crackles through the speakers in his helmet, and he startles when he recognizes Fett’s voice. He hasn’t heard a fellow Mandalorian’s voice transmit through his helmet’s audio channel since the destruction of the covert. 

“I know what you did back there.” Fett states.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I meant in the refinery.” Fett clarifies.

Din tenses in response and whirls around to face Fett again. How could he know?

“I was monitoring all Imperial communications from inside the refinery as a precaution, just in case there was a complication. The Imperial terminal in the base uploaded a facial scan that wasn’t registered to the computer’s database right after you two arrived.”

Din’s hands clench into fists, if Fett saw the scan…

“Don’t worry Mando, I never saw the image. But, I did have to perform a fair bit of technological jargon to approve the scan. And, I made sure the image was deleted from the Imperial database immediately after the files were downloaded.”

Din’s figure visibly relaxes, those were just two more favors he owed Fett. 

“You know, you owe your companion a lot of explanations. Or should I say, gar verd’ika.” (Your little warrior)

If Din didn’t feel so exhausted he would put up a bigger fight, but he can’t help the way he immediately gives in to Fett’s unspoken inquiry. 

“She is...important to me, I just don’t know how to tell her.”

“Well you’re going to have to do better than that. Think about it, then come talk to me. We will figure it out, as brothers.”

Din nods his approval. 

“Are you two done staring into each other’s eyes? Because you’re kind of freaking me out.”

Mayfeld.

“Shut up Mayfeld.” Boba and Din huff in unison as they shoot him two identical helmeted glares.

Later, after Mayfeld is relieved from the crew, Boba and Din agree that they should fly to the nearest friendly planet so that they can restock their food stores and ammunition. While the ship is in hyperspace, Din takes a seat to prepare the message he plans to transmit to Moff Gideon. It only takes him a moment to agree on the wording. He decides to repeat the same lines that Moff Gideon arrogantly delivered on Nevarro several months ago, with a couple key differences. The message will serve as a warning, an omen of what is to come. 

The last line of the speech suddenly gives him an idea. Perhaps he knows what to say to you after all.

~~

Now that Mayfeld is gone, (you don’t even bother to ask why you are leaving him behind) you are free to sit down in the hold once again. But, after spending so much time in the cockpit, you find yourself wanting to stay. Boba Fett still sits in the pilot seat, wearing his helmet as he pilots the ship. Mando sits in the furthest corner of the hold, facing the clear viewport, as he and Cara discuss their next steps towards retrieving the child. You assume that Fennec is also down below, most likely passing the time by polishing her beloved rifle.

Fett breaks the comfortable silence that reigns over the cockpit. “As I recall, I promised you a chance to fly. Even though we’re in hyperspace right now, it’s good practice to just sit in front of the controls and familiarize yourself.” 

“Are you sure?” You’re secretly jumping up and down with excitement, but you don’t want to annoy Fett right as he’s offering you the opportunity to fly his ship.

“I’m quite certain.” He stands up, offering you the seat. 

You sit down immediately, running your fingers lovingly over the controls. It’s been a long time since you’ve been behind the console of a ship as unique as this one. After you’re done gawking, you look over to Fett, only to notice that he’s staring off into space. At least, you assume he’s staring off into space, you can’t really tell while he is wearing the helmet. He looks over to you after a second and removes his helmet, offering it to you for the second time that day. 

“Are you sure I need the helmet?” Please say yes.

“Go ahead, you might as well be familiar with all the aspects of the in-flight instruments.”

You offer him a beaming smile before settling the beskar over your head. “I’ll be right back.” You hear him say, along with the sounds of him descending the ladder. Odd, you think, he seemed to be in quite a hurry.

~~

 As Din discusses his plan with Cara, he hears Fett’s voice crackle through the speaker in his helmet. “You ready to have that discussion? Your companion just announced she’s heading to the fresher, so we have time for a brief chat in the cockpit.”

“I’ll be there shortly.” Din responds.

Din continues his conversation with Cara, and when he notices a blur make its way down the ladder from the cockpit, he politely excuses himself. 

He makes his way towards the ladder, the echo of his feet meeting the rungs causing nerves to bubble to life in his chest. One foot meets the durasteel flooring of the cockpit, then the other follows. He stands there awkwardly for a second, the back of the pilot chair and Fett’s helmet in clear view, then abruptly spills his thoughts.

“I know what to say.” He clears his throat as his voice cracks a little. 

~~ 

Fennec stands from her seat, affectionately patting her rifle as she props it against the side of the chair. As she passes by the supply closet on her way to the refresher, she notices Fett warily peering out from the doorway.

“What are you doing?”

Boba Fett, the famed Boba Fett, actually jumps at her words, hushing her as he continues to peer in the direction of the cockpit. She wrinkles her brow in confusion and glances towards the cockpit as well, wondering what exactly she should be watching for. 

~~

A few moments later, Cara notices that there is not a soul in sight, and she rises to her feet, determined to figure out where everyone has disappeared to. A quick sweep of the hull doesn’t reveal a sign of Mando or Fennec, so she decides to check the hallway on the other side of the hold. As she rounds the corner she notices both Fennec and Fett peering out of the doorway of what appears to be a supply closet.

Her eyes narrow as she stares them down. “What---”

Both Fennec and Fett shush her immediately, their gaze fixed upon the cockpit. Thoroughly bewildered, she too looks towards the cockpit, worried that something has gone awry. 

~~

Meanwhile, you are sitting in the cockpit, trying to scrape your jaw off of the floor as you examine each of the control panels. This really is one unique ship. Just as you are taking a closer look at the targeting instruments, a voice breaks through your thoughts.

“I know what to say to her now, Fett. I will tell her that she means everything to me, that she means more to me than I can ever put into words.” 

You are completely dumbfounded. Does Mando know who he just said that to? 

Fett...that sneaky little bastard...he set you two up, didn’t he. 

Well, you are not one to look a gift taun-taun in the mouth, so you take off the helmet, stand up, turn around, and level your gaze with Mando’s. 

“The feeling’s mutual, vod.” (Comrade)

He panics, because one second he’s standing in the cockpit, and the next he’s disappeared from sight. The clang of beskar meeting durasteel, along with a grunt of pain, echoes through the hold as you drop the helmet and scramble into motion. 

You rush to the top of the ladder, staring down at Din’s splayed out form in shock. A snicker breaks the silence and your gaze flies to the hallway where your other three companions are smothering laughter into the palms of their hands. You can’t help yourself, the ridiculous sight has you falling into a fit of giggles as well. 

“This is not funny!” Din’s voice echoes through your head.

The abruptness of his statement startles you, and one second you’re standing on firm durasteel, the next you’re falling through the air as you too plummet towards the flooring at the base of the ladder. Except you don’t hit the floor. You hit two warm arms that absorb most of your fall, then a beskar-clad chest. 

A pained grunt escapes Din’s helmet. 

“You’re heavy.”

“Yeah? Well you are busted, Mando.”

“Busted?” It sounds like he is still straining for breath.

“Busted.”

More laughter peals through the recycled air of the hold, and you and Din turn simultaneously to fix all three of your crewmates with a glare. 

“You see what you’ve done.” 

“It’s not my fault you're clumsy, Din.”

“Clumsy? You’re the one who fell on top of me!”

“You shouldn’t scare me all the time!”

“Are you two gonna get up, or are you just gonna lay there on the floor?”

“Cara!” You exclaim, your cheeks bursting into flames. 

“I can’t wait till this mission is over, you all need some serious help.” Fennec grumbles, but she’s hiding a grin as she stomps to her chair, retrieves her rifle-just a precaution, she mumbles-then enters the fresher. 

As for Fett, he has a shit-eating grin on his face, and you can’t help but notice that he looks like a proud father.

“Well, Mando, I think we solved your problem.” His grin falters a little. “Or, at least, one of your problems.”

Fett shoots you a wink as he steps over your prone form and ascends the ladder. “Good luck with that one, you’re gonna need it.”

Cara also walks past your sprawled out bodies, taking a seat as she pointedly looks away from you and out the viewport. 

You look down at Mando, a soft smile overcoming your features when you notice he’s been staring at you. One of the hands that was used to brace your fall is now settled on the small of your back and it holds you firmly to his chest. The other hovers in the air beside your left ear, hesitating, and you give it a glance out of the corner of your eye. You so desperately want him to touch you with that hand, just like you’ve always imagined. So you give him a little nudge. 

“Could you brush that piece of hair out of my eye for me?” It’s practically a whisper as you refrain from shattering this tender moment.

A shaky exhale rattles from beneath his helmet, and then his hand moves slowly to fulfill your request. Seconds drag by like hours...and then his touch finally greets your skin. With a tenderness that is so shocking it hurts (has he thought about this too?) the tips of four fingers meet your forehead, sliding down your temple oh so slowly until they glide through your hair, finally curling around the shell of your ear as any stray strands are tucked away. 

You shut your eyes for a moment, every nerve ending fizzling out in complete bliss as you bask in the warmth of his touch. Neither of you move for a long while, and you would think he’d fallen asleep if not for the incessant chatter that hums through your mind. 

“You’re smiling.” His voice surfaces through the haze of thoughts. 

“I know. I can feel you, your voice, your thoughts...I thought you shut me out.” 

“Never.”

You open your eyes and he is still in the same position as before. His hand curled behind your left ear, his visor staring up into your face, and the hand on your back still radiating the same warmth. After another shaky breath, he drags his hand down the side of your face, curls it around the back of your neck, then slides it upward over the base of your skull. Each movement is drawn out, as if he’s moving in slow motion. You both know that he’s only trying to prolong this moment, along with each gesture, for as long as he possibly can.  

It’s your turn to sigh when he bends your head down, closing the distance between your faces so that your forehead rests against the top of his helmet. Your palms, that had previously been supporting your weight, abandon the floor to splay themselves over Din’s beskar chestplate instead. The closeness is suffocating in the most beautiful way, and you’re sure that if he wasn’t wearing a helmet you would be begging for a kiss by now. 

“You’re thinking very loudly.”

His voice has you blushing, but you can’t bring yourself to feel ashamed.

“I can’t help it. You’re just too damn hot to handle.” It’s meant to tease him, but the response you receive is the complete opposite of what you expect.

“Yeah, especially when I’m fighting, am I right?”

There is a dramatic pause while your brain stalls to a grinding halt. “Were you listening earlier, Din? Why the nerve--”

He backpedals immediately, trying to reconcile his previous statement before you decide to jump up and clock him in the head. “Do you know that we’ve been kissing this whole time.”

Huh? Kissing? Your lips haven’t even touched! He must have hit his head harder than you thought. 

“Are you coherent right now?”

He chuckles fondly, the sound echoing through your mind, and you’re sure it's the most beautiful sound you have ever heard. “This gesture, our foreheads touching...it’s called a keldabe kiss. Since my people do not remove their helmets, that is how we show affection to our loved ones.”

“Oh.” You can feel his nerves pulsing through your mind. “It’s perfect.” A searing warmth blossoms throughout your whole body, and you know it is the result of his happiness. “Will you tell me--”

Fennec emerges from the fresher and shocks you two out of your stupor. “Are you two going to stop gazing into each other’s eyes and take a seat?” 

Fennec and Cara both share a chuckle at the way you and Din jump at the sudden intrusion. You are too immersed in your lovey-dovey emotions to even glare at them so you just huff in response. A glance towards Din’s helmet doesn’t reveal much about his current thought process, so you rely on your bond and just let yourself feel. 

The emotions he possesses are so powerful they are blinding, so you guide yourself to his loudest most current thoughts.

“...how’d I get so lucky? I wonder if she will let me kiss her again.”

You just shake your head fondly. “Come on Romeo, let’s go sit down.” You offer a hand once you are standing, and he grumbles, eventually taking it even though you both know he requires zero assistance to lift himself from the floor. He doesn’t release you though, even when he reaches his seat and settles into the chair. Just as you’re about to turn and return to your own seat, he tugs on that hand and sends you barreling into his lap. A wide-eyed look of shock is the only expression you can manage as you fumble to keep yourself on his lap without tumbling to the floor. 

And now he’s laughing into your bond again...great.

“Stop laughing and help me, you buffoon!”

Din quells his chuckling and finally moves to help you right your figure. His hands attempt to settle you into his embrace, but he can’t help but notice that you still seem uncomfortable. He looks to Cara for help, only to realize that her gaze is still directed out the viewport. Instead, he looks to Fennec, and the gaze that she eventually gives him screams you’ve got to be kidding me. He glares at her from beneath the helmet, raising a hand in desperation as he gestures towards you. Fennec glares back, and then mimics the pose of a droid, with her arms out, legs limp, and an impassive gaze on her face. Then she gestures back towards him. He gets the hint immediately, blushing red beneath the helmet, and nods his thanks. She just waves him off and continues to polish her rifle. 

For the first time in his adult life, the Mandalorian slouches in his seat. His spine rounds as he curls himself around your form, providing a protective shell around your body. Both hands guide you into a sideways position, similar to a wedding carry-he blushes even harder at that realization-and then he tucks your head into the crook between his helmet and chestplate, where his cloak will cushion your head. You give him a sleepy smile and snuggle closer to his armored chest, looping an arm around his neck as you get comfortable. 

“So will you tell me what it means?” You attempt again.

“What does what mean?”

“Verd’ika.”

“It means ‘little warrior’.”

The smile that overtakes your face is almost blinding. You fall asleep with the echo of that thought in your head, and wake up to the gentle snores of a certain Mandalorian. There’s an incessant needling in the back of your sleep-addled brain. There’s no way Din would have fallen asleep with the rest of the crew watching. You blink your eyes open, and panic a little bit when you realize that hold is quite a bit darker than earlier. There are a couple blinking lights from the cockpit that shed some light on the room. And after a second, you scan the area only to realize that there is no one else in sight. 

Abruptly, your back twitches in pain and you realize that Mando’s vambrace is digging into your back. You shift slightly, trying to adjust your position without leaving your warm perch. Din mumbles in his sleep, shifting a little bit at your movements, and it causes the hand you slung behind his neck earlier to thwack him rather violently in the back of the head. He shoots to a standing position immediately, and you squeak, clutching onto him like a koala as he nearly sends you hurtling towards the ground. 

His blaster is drawn in a second, and your sluggish mind struggles to connect with him through your bond in order to calm his frantic motions. He must break out of his trance before you are able to form a connection, because he suddenly settles back down into the chair with a tired exhale. 

“Sorry, you startled me.” He apologizes.

“It’s ok.” 

He adjusts you into a more comfortable position, fussing as he tucks you back into his chest. You just hum against his neck, basking in the warmth that he produces. Surprisingly, the beskar itself is also warm, and you note that it must maintain the same temperature as his body. 

“We landed a little while ago. The others left to enjoy a night on the town, they won’t be back for several hours.” 

“Mmm.” 

“Are you even awake?” 

“Yes.” You respond as you peel an eye open. The adorable way Din is tilting his helmet to look at your face sends a wave of affection blossoming through your chest. But, as cute as he looks right now, you really want to be asleep.

“Since we have a moment, I want to talk about what happened today.”

That has your attention, and you’re fully awake in seconds. 

“I know that we disagreed on a couple things today. And, we have both made implications about our feelings, but I want to lay everything out on the table so it is one hundred percent clear.”

You nod in agreement. 

“You and the child will always be the first priority to me. No matter what. Mandalorians value their clan, their family, above all else. You and the kid are my family.” He cuts himself off, voice cracking a little as he tries to continue.

You rush to fill the silence, eager to reassure him of your own feelings. “You and the kid are my family too Din, and I would not have it any other way. I know that you didn’t give me the mission earlier because you were worried about me. And, I know that you had to remove your helmet because there was no other way to locate the little one. I am sorry I didn’t support your decisions. I was bitter and hurt, but I won’t make that mistake again.”

A sound, like that of a choked sob, escapes Din and your heart squeezes in pain. Before you can finish, he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way ner verd’ika. (My little warrior) I am so sorry, I didn’t even think about how you would feel.”

“No! Don’t apologize, I am the one apologizing to you.”

You are both laughing through your tears, and you clutch at his hands with both of yours. 

“I love you Din, I love you so much, and I will always support any decision you make.”

“Ner verd’ika, ni kar'tayli gar darasuum. (My little warrior, I love you) You hold my heart in your hands.”

At that admission, you feel a burning desire to kiss him, but you settle for resting your forehead against his helmet instead.

“I seem to recall that you promised to ‘kick my ass’ once we landed.”

“Stop it, you’re ruining the moment.” You rebuke him as you shove half-heartedly at his chest.

“I think you’re wimping out, ner verd’ika. (My little warrior) You don’t think you can beat me anymore?”

How dare he tease you. The nerve of this man.

“No, I’ll still kick your ass anyways. I hope you won’t be too embarrassed when I school you in front of everyone else tomorrow.” A smug smirk stretches across your face as you finish speaking.

“You’re quite feisty, my dear.”

“Shut up, you love it.”

He grumbles beneath the helmet, neither denying nor acknowledging your statement. 

“I never realized you had such a dirty mouth.” The words are directed through your bond, and you can’t help but notice that the tone is a little suggestive. His words have your face erupting into flames.

Your Mandalorian has some real nerve.

~~

Ending Notes: I am actually really happy with how this turned out. Multi-chapter stories are a little intimidating and I admire all of you writers that can juggle several multi-chapter stories at once. I hope that this did the whole un-masking/face reveal thing justice while still staying as true to Din’s character as possible. ALSO, if I messed up any of the Mandalorian culture/lore stuff, please let me know. 

~~

[yeojaa]

wait !!!! find her jk with that prompt the other anon sent!!! can u plssss that’s literally something find her jk would actually do🥺🥺🥺🥺

[ read finders keep hers ]

pairing.  jjk x (named) f!reader.  rating.  general.  tags.  idiots in love.  like, that’s all there is to say.  angst central, my dude.  wc.  2.4k.  author note.  i meant to make this short and end with some tender lovemaking but...  i cannot be trusted near a keyboard so you get this word vomit instead.  xoxo!

You love Jeon Jungkook.�� Have, you think, since before you knew what the word love meant.

(Maybe since you were children and you’d still stood a chance against him, bursting with pride from a job well done, young enough that your parents’ kind words felt better than anything in the world.  Before he’d turned into the president of the Casanova Club and he’d just been your and your brother’s best friend.  Little Jeon with the unbelievably big eyes, always so curious about everything.

Or maybe since your tenth grade White Day, when he’d bought you your favourite candies and pressed them unceremoniously into your hands, too many to hold so they fall to dirt and tumble around you.  He’d stooped to snatch them all up, shoving them into the pockets of your coat.  “Because we’re best friends or whatever,”  he’d said with this toothy, silly smile.

More likely during university.  That time you’d maybe (read: very) foolishly made out, liquor fueling the tangle of your limbs and how utterly good he felt within them, a nectarine dream in his brand new G Wagon.  You’d thought he’d laugh in your face, mumble something about no, we can’t - which he had - but he’d also taken you home, tucked you in and climbed in beside your inebriated self.

Definitely once you’d started seeing each other, spending more time in his bed than anywhere else.  It’d been nearly impossible to separate head from heart, falling deeper and deeper into the Jungkook-shaped black hole that seemed to eclipse everything else.  You’d fallen head over stupid heels, leaving bits of yourself hidden among his things.  Your lip balm in his trouser pocket, perfume on the collar of his favourite turtleneck, shape of your mouth alongside monogrammed initials. 

You hadn’t meant to.

Love him, that is.  It’d simply happened in between all the laughter, the eye rolls, the smiles.  Threaded between each action and cemented by the thud of your heart, beat into the ground like a drum.)

Sometimes, though, you don’t like him.  Oftentimes, in fact. 

You and Jungkook are as different as can be.  

You’re in business development at a tech firm;  he’s the technically unemployed son of a real estate mogul.  You invest most of your money;  he spends his as if it’ll never run out (which it likely won’t).  You grew up with an older brother;  he’s got two younger sisters.  You drink to celebrate, to wind down;  he drinks to prove a point.  You believe in love - have to, looking at your parents and feeling how you do about him;  he knows it exists but up until recently, had zero interest in it.

You wonder still, seated at the table with your group of friends and their partners, whether that still rings true.  (Deep down, you know it doesn’t. You know he loves you, wants you in a way he’s never wanted anyone else before, but your brain is a fickle thing, playing tricks when it shouldn’t.) 

Would he be happier without you?  Better off without you? 

Your thoughts mock you - just as he does, roguish smile turning his entire expression into sunshine.  Inescapable, all-encompassing, so blinding it’s almost hard to look at.  Trained on the girl he’s chatting up at the bar.  

This is what Jungkook does.  What he’s always done.  You should be used to it, really.  The man’s charm is always turned up to eleven, always in full effect even when he doesn’t mean it to be.  It’s simply part of who he is- young and rich and devastatingly, heartbreakingly handsome. 

Still, you can’t help the emotion that swells somewhere deep in your stomach, jostles the meal you’ve just had and turns your insides into a sea of nausea.  You know when he’s just being friendly and you know when he’s flirting.  It’s a terribly thin line but one you recognise, intimately familiar with the two sides of his personality.  

Right now, he’s flirting.  Doing that thing he does, one arm folded on the counter top, unblemished hand resting somewhere along his hip, silver of his rings acting as a beacon beneath the dim restaurant lights.  His other hand slots itself into the pocket of his coated jeans, tattoos thrown into stark contrast against his skin and the black of the denim.  There’s that smile of his, more a smirk but sunny, radiant, beautiful.  It lights up his entire face, steeping his expression in something warm.  The dimple in his cheek winks with each laugh - you can only imagine the one on the other side does the same, cut deeply into his skin.

Don’t be mad, you tell yourself.  He’s your Jungkook, bad habits and all.  

You love him.  You love him.  You love him.

If he notices your stoicism, he doesn’t comment on it.  Doesn’t ask what’s wrong or if you’re okay or what’s up.  Barely even speaks to you, save to toss his arm around your shoulder and tug you close, practically tug you into his lap while his friends share stories of their week.

It’s your usual Friday night dinner.  Something you’ve done with this ragtag group for as long as you’ve known them.  An excuse to go out and drink and eat some damn good (and often free) food. 

You wish you could enjoy it like you normally do.  Instead, you’re preoccupied by the way a perfume that isn’t yours lingers on his collar - seeps beneath the fabric and marks him up like a possession.  It’s too sweet - cloying sugar apples and coconut - nothing like your usual earthy wisteria and dewy rose.  It stings your nose when you inhale too deeply, nestled into the familiar shape of Jungkook’s frame, settled between the vertebrae you know best.

You hardly notice when he does speak to you, rousing you from thought you can’t quite place any longer.

“Ready to head home?”

The rest of your friends are going about their business, slipping their coats on and exchanging ideas for plans the following morning.  (Saturday brunch is a very popular thing, though it tends to lean late lunch versus true breakfast-brunch.)

You nod and slip from beneath your lover’s arm, plucking your purse up as you rise.  You’re ready to get out of here, ready to scrub away the melancholy that lingers like a thin film across your skin.  

He must have realised sometime between your silence in the car and your lacklustre kisses in the elevator.  You think he must, as he nearly slams the front door of his penthouse shut, kicks off his Chelsea boots and lets them tumble together just off the welcome mat.  (Not the reaction you’d expected, but you’ve learnt to never expect anything from him.  As much as he might be your best friend, Jeon Jungkook plays by his own set of rules.)

He doesn’t wait for you to undo your own shoes, carefully undoing the straps of your Jimmy Choos and setting them where they belong before you follow the sound of his footsteps.

When you find him, he’s stripping off his jacket and tossing it haphazardly across the back of his desk chair, keys and wallet and phone dropped none-too-gently upon wood.  He says nothing even as he crosses to his closet, steps inside and slips off each piece of jewellery:  assorted rings and his Rolex - everything but the bracelet you’d gotten him for graduation.  

His belt goes next, set back within the confines of its velvet lined drawer.  Through the hole goes the button of his jeans, down goes the zipper, and then he’s in nothing but his vaguely sheer dress shirt, boxer-briefs, and silly printed socks (yellow bananas on black fabric, for reasons), looking every inch the adonis he is. 

You still haven’t said a word, carefully hanging your dress in the small space you’ve carved out for yourself.  You don’t really know what to say - how to approach his apparent frustration when you don’t know where it comes from.

Is he upset with you?  Had you, somewhere along the line of your own sadness, done something to upset him?

You’re running through all the scenarios, lost in thought, when his voice breaks the quiet.  Snaps forth and hits its mark - a perfect shot.  “Seriously?”  There’s a fickle quality to his tone, a pettiness that you recognise when he hasn’t gotten his way, when he’s not quite sure what to say but knows he wants to have something.  (It doesn’t come out often with you, but you’re intimately familiar with it still.  His I-want-to-fight voice.)

“Pardon?”  You’re not expecting him so close, close enough to reach you but far enough that you can tell he’s purposely put this distance between you.  It feels strange - further apart than it is.

“You’re not going to say anything?”

You blink.  Once, twice, three times.  When you speak, it’s full of confusion, paired with your brows gathering in a little knot of bewilderment.  “Anything about what?”

“What happened at dinner.”  

He sounds so utterly deadpan, you can’t help but laugh, a sound of disbelief rather than amusement.  

“You mean you flirting with that girl?”  Even saying the words feels awful, makes you want to crawl into bed and forget about it all.

Jungkook, on the other hand, looks like you’ve just handed him the answers to all of life’s questions.  His entire face rearranges, all the pieces matching back up to form a proper puzzle.  There’s a certain smugness to it now, caught in the round of his cheek and how it ticks higher with his grin.  “So you did notice!  I fucking knew it.”

“Of course I did.”  You want to be appalled.  Know you should be.  (But it’s Jungkook and you love him.)  “Kind of hard not to.”  

He’s the devil in disguise, snapping you to him with a flex of his arms, hands curled around your waist.  It’s clear he’s pleased, absolutely tickled pink that you’d fallen for his silly little trick.  “Gotta keep you on your toes,”  he croons, eyes twinkling, mouth wobbling with the strain of keeping his laughter hidden. 

He expects you to agree - maybe roll your eyes and pat his cheek, laughs along with him and give him some sort of shit about how he’s an idiot - and visibly starts when you push yourself away, two palms flat against his chest. 

“Sure.”

One word.  Nothing like he’d imagined.

“Baby?”  You’ve made it two steps - two whole steps, which is two too many to Jungkook - when he’s pulling you back, trapping you against his chest with his arms looped around your shoulders.  “Where you going?”  He’s kissing along your shoulder, trailing warmth everywhere he touches. 

He still smells like that girl’s perfume.

“Can you get off me, please?”  You’re more polite than you normally are, working hard to keep calm when he only tightens his grip.  Of course he thinks you’re kidding, thinks you’re pouting and playing just like he had when you’d returned home.

When you repeat yourself - a little harder, a little quieter - he seems to realise how wrong he’s read the situation.

“Angel—”  You’re swept around, left to stare into the neat white of his shirt as he peers down at you, waits for you to meet his eyes.  You don’t, staunchly focused on the buttons of his Oxford, how they strain over his broad chest.  “Baby.”  Now he’s the one full of reprimand, disapproval colouring the single word that’s normally so sweet.

“What?”  It’s just as bratty as he was earlier but somehow worse, touched blue.

“What’s wrong?”  Jungkook seems genuinely perplexed, concerned and maybe, just a tiny bit frustrated.  He’s not used to you lashing out like this, soft and yet unyielding, hidden behind a door he’s fumbling with the keys to.

“You.”

“—me?”

You’re not one to throw out things you don’t mean, carefully picking and choosing your words.  It’s something you’ve always done - far more responsible than your idiot best friend who’s never had to worry about a thing in his life.  

The line of his mouth dips, pulls into a frown as he studies you and tries to crack open the windows to gain some insight.  It doesn’t work well;  he’s faced with a stone wall.

“Why’re you mad?” 

You want to laugh.  Do, actually, so short and abrupt it’s more of a scoff.  “What’s wrong with me?”  You’d pull away if you could. (Realistically, you could, but you’ve always been too soft for him.)  “You spent almost all of dinner flirting with someone else.”

“Yeah— to make you jealous.”  As if that makes it better.  As if that doesn’t tear a giant hole right in the centre of your chest, launches your poor heart out of the airlock to fend for itself in the emptiness of his expression.  

You don’t know why it feels worse to hear it out loud.  You’d figured as much. 

(Jungkook had done this in the past, though always jokingly.  He’d rarely been invested enough in a girl to go to such lengths but you’d seen it once or twice.  Always the age old adage of wanting what you can’t have.)

You wish you could separate the then from the now.  Remind yourself that he does care, that this is his twisted, stupid way of showing his affection - of keeping you around.  (You know he’s just as vulnerable as you - maybe more, sometimes - but he shows it poorly.  Pushes you away when he tries to pull you in.)

Tears are welling, spilling across your lashes faster than you can yank them back.  Something about being an angry crier.  

“Good job,”  you mean to snap, to make him feel how you do.  (Small - so very, very small.)  Instead, it’s terribly quiet.  A whisper that gets lost to the cotton poplin.  “Now I’m jealous.”  And miserable and insecure.  All things you usually aren’t, that only Jeon Jungkook manages to bring out in you.

“Baby,”  he tries again, crushing you to his chest, jut of his chin resting atop your head.  His hugs had always been your favourite - swallowing you whole, making you feel safe - but it’s too much now, a prison cell rather than your familiar bed.  “I’m sorry.”  He’s kissing again, stamping his affection into the dark of your hair, brushing over and over with the soft of his lips, his rounded adorable nose,  “I thought—”

You know what he thought.  Know where he’d been coming from (a place of immaturity, a gilded golden room with Jeon Jungkook stamped across the door) but it doesn’t make it any better.

Doesn’t make it hurt any less.

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Aizawa x Reader, eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Gen

Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter. Unless you count Mineta ig

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 7/16 (all chapters)

“And the villain came towards me...he was so much bigger than me! I thought I was going to die!!

You scribbled notes on your clipboard.

“Interesting.”

It was now two days after the USJ incident and UA had reopened its doors. Its students had returned to classes as normal and they weren’t the only ones. You had spotted Shouta limping through the corridors and taking classes, as if his arms were not still in casts.

You were grateful now more than ever of your incredibly busy schedule, for you didn’t get a chance to stew in your own thoughts. You had taken each member of 1-A in for trauma counselling, going over the incident and getting a feel for their coping mechanisms. They were stronger than you’d given them credit for, with most requiring nothing more than a feelings diary and follow up appointment in a week’s time.

Their reactions to this had varied widely. Iida, Todoroki and Yaoyorozu asked if there was a word count requirement. Bakugo made no secret of the fact that he thought it was bullshit. Uraraka and Midoriya seemed weirdly excited about it and promised to do their best.

The final student to arrive in your office was Mineta and he had spent most of the session asking for a hug. You were familiar with his type and well prepared. Every time he reached towards you, you pushed your tissue box further across the table and into his open arms.

“Now, Mineta,” you said, picking up the final journal of the set, “I have a very important task for you…”

From the expression on his face, anyone would have thought you had given him the world.

“Of course!"

“This is a feelings diary,” you said. “I’m going to make an appointment a week from now, where we can go over everything, but until then I’d like for you to complete this. For the next week, every time you feel a negative emotion, like fear or anger or anxiety, I’d like you to write about it here. See how there are sections for location, time and what’s going through your mind? You don’t have to worry about filling every box, but it’ll help us make the most of our time together.”

“Anything for you, Miss (Last Name),” said Mineta, holding the book to his chest as if you’d handed him the holy grail. “But...I do have one request.”

“Oh?”

“Please cheer for me at the sports festival!”

Regardless of their reactions to the session, almost every member of class 1-A had asked for you to cheer for them at the sports festival. You had agreed each time, more than a little bit touched that they would think to ask.

“Of course!”

You were sure you spotted Mineta raising the journal you had given him to his nose as he left the room and you let out a sigh, getting up from your desk to pour yourself a glass of water. Getting through your meetings with 1-A had taken up most of your day and you were grateful for a moment’s peace and quiet.

The silence didn’t last long, though, for someone knocked at your door only a matter of minutes later.

“Come in,” you called out, wondering if one of the students had forgotten something. Perhaps they had further questions about the task you’d given them.

The person who came in, however, wasn’t from 1-A. They weren’t even from the hero course. It was one of the students in general studies and you searched your brain for his name. You had certainly seen his file, but couldn’t remember why it stood out to you so much.

What was it?

Oh! That was it!

Shinsou

He still stood in the doorway, examining your office in curiosity.

“I wasn’t sure if you were open…”

“Of course! Take a seat."

He obeyed, flopping down into the chair opposite your desk and sitting in silence. You had seen his type before too- the ones who reached out for help, but needed some degree of coaxing to vocalise their problem.

“Candy?” you asked, holding out the bowl of hard boiled candies you kept beside your computer monitor for such occasions.

He reached in and picked out a sour cherry, though didn’t eat it, instead turning it over in his fingers as he stared at the floor.

“Is it true,” he said at last, “that if we make an impact at the sports festival...we can change classes?”

“Were you thinking of swapping?”

“I guess.”

You clapped your hands together, turning to your computer.

“There’s a form we need to complete together,” you said, loading up the file. “It’ll only take a couple of minutes.

He shrugged and unwrapped the candy.

“Whatever.”

He mostly nodded his way through your questions, crunching at the candy every time you filled out a box. He seemed dismissive of the choice he was making, though you got the impression he was anything but. In many respects he reminded you of Shouta.

“And that’s that,” you said, reaching for your stamp and putting it to paper. “Give this to your home room teacher as soon as you can and they’ll make the relevant arrangements.”

“Thanks,” he said, taking the paper and folding it in half.

He didn’t move for a while, running his fingers over the paper as if unsure that it was real. Finally, he got to his feet and snatched up another candy from your bowl, this time sour apple. He unwrapped it and turned to the door, though stopped before he could reach for the handle.

“Um,” he said, “that is…”

He took a deep breath and gave you an overly formal bow.

“Pleasecheerformeatthesportsfestival.”

With that, he hurried out of the room, shoving the candy in his mouth as he closed the door behind him.

You watched the door for a short while after that, finally giving in to laughter.

You hadn’t fully agreed with Nezu about holding the games, but at that moment  you felt you understood his decision better.

You couldn’t wait for the sports festival; couldn’t wait to watch the students you had come to know give it their all. You promised yourself you would cheer for them -all of them- until you had no voice left.

You only hoped your feelings would reach them.

_______

That evening, as you cooked dinner home alone, Hizashi went to see Shouta. You had been more than happy for him to check in on him in your stead, still overcome with guilt at the kiss. Not to mention that there were certain aspects of his recovery that were inappropriate for you to help with, much like today.

Hizashi whined as he rifled through Shouta’s bathroom cupboards.

“Unforgivable,” he whispered under his breath, to which Shouta groaned.

Hizashi was in the process of helping him wash his hair, an offer Shouta protested more than once, only to give up and stare into space as Hizashi sat him down on a stool at the bathroom sink, draping a cape over his shoulders as if the pair of them were at a salon.

“I can forgive a lot of things, Eraser,” said Hizashi, turning to Shouta with a heartbroken expression and numerous identical bottles in his arms, “but this?”

“They were on sale,” shrugged Shouta. “I stocked up.”

“These are 3-in-1! Shampoo, conditioner and bodywash? It’s like you’re doing this on purpose.”

“I am doing it on purpose. They’re cheap.”

Hizashi shoved them back into the cupboard, rushing over to the bag of products he’d brought with him. He had only brought the bag because it had a portable shower head. He’d never dreamed he would have to bring out the big guns.

“Let’s see,” he said, picking through the bottles within. “I think...this one.”

He planted it onto the sink next to Shouta and fixed the shower head to his tap. Shouta leaned over to read the label. Magnolia Sunrise . He recognised it, but he wasn’t sure where from.

He flinched as Hizashi turned on the tap and fiddled with the temperature, though closed his eyes the second water ran through his hair. It was soothing, but he’d never admit it.

Hizashi took in his relaxed demeanour and smirked, thinking how ridiculous this might look to an outsider. He switched off the water and gathered a little of the shampoo in his hands, working it up to a lather and then reaching towards Shouta’s hair.

“Eraser,” he said as he massaged the shampoo into his scalp.

“What?”

Hizashi had wanted to take care of his friend, that much was true, but he’d be lying if he said that was the only reason he had gone there. He had agreed with Nemuri not to act until after the sports festival, but a lot could happen in two weeks. He still believed you to be Shouta’s rebound and feared that if you checked in on him too much or spent too long at his house, the rejection would hit you far harder when it inevitably occurred.

Not only that, but he still didn’t know anything about the mystery woman, which bothered him far more than he would ever admit. He had known Shouta for half of his life and up until recently would have insisted he knew just about everything about him.

It was a long shot, but he hoped that if he asked the right questions, Shouta would reveal everything of his own accord. Not only would Hizashi be able to use the information to track down the girl, but it would also make him feel better about not knowing she existed. He couldn’t believe that he had missed out on such an important development in his friend’s life. He had always believed that he would be involved in every step of the journey if Shouta ever developed feelings for someone.

“Do you ever think about...dating?”

“Dating?”

“Yeah, like going to mixers and things, picking up dates.”

“Not really,” he said. “Why?”

“No reason,” said Hizashi, turning on the water again. “Y’know...it’s just that we’re at that time of our lives where people start thinking about that sort of thing. Even Nemuri talked about going to speed dating not so long ago.”

“Dating takes time and I don’t have much of it,” shrugged Shouta. “It doesn’t make sense to burden someone with a relationship when I’m not going to be around a lot of the time. And that’s assuming they’re not as busy as I am. If we were both busy, we’d never see each other.”

“But what if they were super special somehow,” said Hizashi, thinking of the triple breasted woman at Ego . “What if…what if you met them and knew they were the one?”

“I dunno. Why? Are you thinking about dating?”

Truth be told, Hizashi thought about dating a lot. He wanted someone to spoil with gifts and serenades, someone he could gush about on his radio show. He wanted someone he could sing with in the shower after fucking them in it.

“No,” he said, rinsing Shouta’s hair. “I just wondered, you know.”

Shouta didn’t say anything to that and he continued to wash his hair in silence.

“Eraser.”

“Yeah?”

“What do you think about (Name)?”

Shouta cracked open an eye, wondering about Hizashi’s motives. He had taken care not to drop hints at anything that had happened between you, though wondered if he hadn’t been careful enough.

“She’s a capable guidance counsellor,” he said. “Why?”

“N-no reason!”

Hizashi continued to wash his hair in silence. He hadn’t expected him to divulge anything, yet felt disappointed anyway.

“Now,” he said, “time for conditioner...and then we can go straight on to blow drying!”

“No funny business.”

Hizashi feigned innocence, as if he hadn’t brought curlers, making the most of Eraser’s inability to stop him.

“I don’t know what you mean!”

“Mhmm.”

__________

While Hizashi put rollers in Shouta’s hair, you sat up in the bath to reach for your shampoo.

Magnolia Sunrise.

The same shampoo that Shouta had seen on the morning of the reset.

_________

The games began two weeks later and you could barely hide your excitement. You had seen how hard the students were working for their futures and how proud their teachers were in turn. You couldn’t wait to see the fruits of their labours.

You had only ever seen the games on television and being on site was more exciting than you could possibly describe. Within an hour of your arrival, you had already picked up an array of masks and candies, ready to distribute them among your nieces and nephews. You also picked up a few boxes of candied apples. Tensions were running high and you were more than a little aware that it went both ways. Events such as this produced shocking highs and even worse lows. Candied apples wouldn’t fix everything, but it was a start.

1-A had gained the eye of both the general public and professionals as a result of USJ. Unsurprisingly, their stadium was the busiest. You were grateful to have a seat in the first place, let alone one alongside the teachers, with a clear view of the action.

The first trial was an obstacle course and it left you on the edge of your seat. You watched in a combination of shock and delight at the incredible improvisational skills of each and every student, so far removed from the kids you had given diaries to.

After the trial, when Midoriya, Bakugo and Todoroki crashed into the first three, you took a quick bathroom break. You had treated yourself to an iced tea before sitting down to watch the event and, as a consequence of the nervous sipping you had done, needed to pee pretty badly.

You bumped into Nemuri on your way out of the washroom.

Nemuri, much like Hizashi before her, had not only agreed to take a step back from interfering until after the games were over, but knew an opportunity when she saw one.

“Oh, (Name),” she said, “I found you just in time!”

“Is everything okay?”

“I passed Mic on the way here,” she said. “He said he needed your help!”

“He did?”

You knew that both Hizashi and Shouta were providing commentary for the games. You also knew that the commentary stands were quite far away from your current position.

“Yeah, he said it was pretty urgent!”

“I...uh...okay!”

If Hizashi truly did need you that desperately, you probably shouldn’t keep him waiting.

_________

Hizashi, needless to say, had not needed you at all. Nemuri had counted on him being as opportunistic as she was and snatching up the chance to have you and Shouta spend more time together. She had not, however, counted on Hizashi’s objectives being different to her own.

He and Shouta were going through the listings when you poked your head around the door.

“(Name),” he said, “it’s good to see you!”

“Hey,” you said, “need a hand?”

You assumed that, as he had asked for you directly, there was no need to specify that Nemuri had asked you to go. Hizashi assumed that, as you were a kind sort of person, you had come of your own accord.

If you had used different phrasing, perhaps the outcome would have been different.

“No, no,” he said, giving you the thumbs up. “Everything's a-okay, dear listener!”

“Are you sure?”

You wondered why he had asked for you specifically, only for it to turn out to be nothing.

“Positive! Certain!”

“Well, okay,” you said. “Just...let me know if you need anything.”

You left the commentary stand and descended the stairs, the rumble of the next round beginning. The next trial appeared to be a cavalry style battle and you picked up the pace to get back to your seat. Cavalry battles were always fun to watch and you were curious to know how the students would use their quirks.

Unfortunately, you passed Nemuri en route, who had just finished distributing ribbons to the students.

“Ah, (Name),” she said, “did you talk to Hizashi?”

“Yeah,” you said with a shrug. “Turns out he didn’t need me after all.”

Nemuri cursed under her breath, realising that she had underestimated exactly how oblivious Hizashi could be.

“I just spoke to him,” she said, tapping her earpiece. “He changed his mind...there is something he needs after all.”

“Oh,” you said. “Uhhhh...okay...guess I’ll go back.”

Just like that, you returned to the stairwell, biting back curses of your own every time you heard a crash from outside. You all but sprinted back up the stairs, hoping that whatever Hizashi needed wouldn’t take too long and you would still make it back in time to catch the rest of the cavalry battle.

Hizashi muted his microphone the second you came back.

“(Name),” he said, “what…”

“How can I help?”

Once again, you didn’t mention Nemuri. This time Hizashi panicked, no longer certain that your offers came from a place of selflessness. Could it be that you just wanted an excuse to spend time with Shouta? Would you just keep coming back every time he sent you away? A week ago, he would have loved nothing more than for you to sit with them in the stands, but now he feared the worst. He had to get you away from Shouta and quickly.

“I...um...yes! There is something you can help with! I want some of the...uh...the All Might mochi. Could you fetch some?”

The mochi stand was far from the stadium. The queue for it was at least a mile long. You had observed this yourself when you picked out treats that morning. You took his money, albeit begrudgingly, praying that the queue would have died down now that the second event had started.

Unfortunately, you were out of luck. Everyone in Musutafu seemed to have had the same idea. You watched the television screens as you took your place in line, mourning the amazing view of the action you would have had from your seat.

You decided to buy yourself some of the dango once you got to the front. You needed something to make yourself feel better.

The vendor sold out, though, before you could get even remotely close to the front, the cheers from the arena adding insult to injury.

You trudged back inside, resigned to the fact that you were never going to see the cavalry battle, only for someone to call out to you from a short distance away. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw who it was.

Masayama Akira. Commercial director of the Silver Edge group, an umbrella corporation that owned and managed a great number of agencies in the country.

Your ex.

Success suited him, you considered, eying his tailored suit and Italian leather shoes. He had always dressed well, believing that sometimes the illusion of wealth was enough to cultivate success, but you had been away from him for so long that you had almost forgotten.

“You...you look great,” he said, coming over to give you a one armed hug. “How are things?”

You didn’t look great and you knew it. You were hot and sweaty from running up and down the stairs and then standing out in the sun.

“W-what are you doing here?”

You hadn’t expected to run into him at the festival. Neither of you had attended before.

“I’m here on behalf of the group,” he said, sounding a little sheepish, “officially, anyway.”

“Oh, you wanted to get an eye for future investments?”

“No,” he said. “Actually, I was hoping I’d run into you.”

It was the last thing you had expected him to say and you prayed it didn’t show on your face. You hadn’t committed to his suggestion of going to dinner, nor had you made any attempt to contact him since the day of the USJ incident. You didn’t trust yourself to be around him. The breakup had wounded you and you weren’t naive enough to believe you were healed.

He looked good, though. You couldn’t deny it. You couldn’t stop thinking about how he looked without his clothes; the noises he made before he came; the way he would place his hand on the small of your back in public.

You’d missed him; missed the sound of his laugh and the softness of his kisses. You had caught a whiff of his cologne when he hugged you and every memory you had tried to bury came rushing back. You remembered movie nights; the cooking classes you had taken to become a good wife; the ugly socks and gloves you had knitted for him.

“I know you’re busy,” he said, “but I really would like to take you to dinner.”

“I’d love to,” you said before you could stop yourself.

“How about this week?”

“No good,” you said. “We’re organising internships for the next couple of weeks. What about the week after? They’ll be on their assignments by then and things should have calmed down.”

“Sounds good. Shall we go to the usual place?”

Your usual place was a French style restaurant near his apartment that was almost too bougie, with wisteria flowers growing around its windows and doors. You had to admit, you’d missed their house red.

“Do we still have a table?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

You laughed at that, only to jump out of your skin as a boom erupted from the stadium.

“Shit,” you said, turning back to him apologetically. “I can’t stay, I came to get some mochi for my coworker and there wasn’t any left and now I’m late and-”

“The All Might mochi?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I knew it was popular, but I didn’t expect it to be gone.”

Akira grinned.

“You mean this mochi?”

He lifted his other arm, showing off the distinctive white box with red, white, blue and yellow mochi within.

“Yes,” you said with a gasp, “you’re so lucky!”

He glanced from the box to you before shoving it into your hands.

“Here. Take it.”

“I couldn’t possibly…”

“Don’t think too much about it, we’ll just go Dutch at dinner.”

“I…” you stared at the box. “Okay…”

Your fingers trembled as you took it from him. None of it felt real.

“I’d better go,” said Akira, motioning for the stairwell. “I’ll text you later!”

You waved him off, stomach fluttering. You felt like a high schooler again, having a short conversation with your crush.

You took a deep breath and hugged the mochi to your chest.

“It’s okay, (Name),” you muttered to yourself. “It’s just dinner. It doesn’t mean anything.”

__________

You were still feeling a little giggly when you returned to the commentary stands with the mochi and Shouta glanced from you to Hizashi as you handed it over.

He thought back to the conversation he had had with Hizashi before the games, that he had mentioned your name not too long after he had brought up dating. He considered how enthusiastically you had been to keep coming to the stands, the flush across your cheeks as you handed over the goods, how quickly the pair of you had set up Support Mic .

Just like that, unbeknownst to everyone, Shouta added two and two together and made blue.

_______

A/N

IF YOU’VE READ THIS FIC ALREADY YOU KNOW WHAT’S COMING IN THE NEXT COUPLE OF CHAPTERS AAAAAAAAAA

IF YOU HAVEN’T

[liliacvol6]

Gettin’ High ~ Bucky Barnes Smut

Summary: You smoke weed with Bucky, letting your new-found confidence from the herb take out, reveal some information you've been hiding and that leads to an interesting interaction with the super soldier....

Warnings: Mentions of weed, smutttttt, metal-arm kink, slight choking

Author's Note: This is my first fan-fic in about five years, please let me know if it's too slow or boring! Any feedback is much appreciated! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Finally" you whispered once back in your room. Throwing your uniform onto the ground and stepping into a hot shower would be a great way to start a night with yourself in the Avengers Tower. Everyone out on a big mission, except you. Getting injured a few months ago, with a slow and definitely not speedy recovery meant you got to do very little when it came to missions.

~

"Steve, I hurt my arm over five months ago. I can go on this mission." You stood your ground, as tiny as it was, you being just a little over five-foot resulted in you looking like a puppy dog instead of a terror. Steve sighed and crossed his arms over his chest,

"Enough. I'm in charge of you, you're staying here. Until you can take Bucky again while sparring you won't return to the field." Your angry eyes met Bucky's head, he looked up from the file and locked eyes with you, he smirked at your anger and went back to reading. You were infuriated. Steve and the other avengers all treated you like a child because you were so much [physically younger than them. Bucky was always being a dick to you because you were powerful, able to generate and manipulate magnetic field was your mutant ability, but you couldn't take him while sparring.

The rules were for sparring were simple, no powers. You were being taught how to defend yourself in case Wanda went all "House of M" again and erased half of the mutants powers. Bucky was your training partner because Steve was too busy with other duties, forced to be paired with the strongest of the avengers was something you regretted. Sure with your powers you were unstoppable, but trying to fight against Bucky's metal arm and assassin skills was impossible.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The one thing you could control was what you did when all the other avengers were out of the tower, smoke weed. It was the highlight of the most recent months. Being able to lounge wherever you wanted, smoke a bowl and just relax without the others screaming at you was a highlight to your residency as an avenger.

"Okay, meals are in the fridge, or just get take-out. Whatever you want, I don't care. You have one of my cards." Tony called to you as they all boarded the Quinjet. You smiled and waved to them as they took off, Nat giving you her signature smirk and a little wave, Steve nodding his head at you, Thor holding up his hammer as a sign of goodbye and Bruce giving an awkward wave. Tony blew a kiss as the door closed and they flew off.

You ran to your room and removed your suit. Digging through your underwear drawer and cursing yourself for putting it in such a lame hiding place, you pulled out your little container and picked a joint to start the night off with. You didn't want to smoke in your room in case a fire alarm went off so you went up to the roof. It was dark but there was a little make-shift seating area that Nat and you had set up to play cards and drink at night.

You let out a large sigh and sat on a fold-up chair, pulled out your lighter and lit the joint. The earthy smell of the weed filled your nostrils and you inhaled the marijuana, with your eyes closed and head titled to the stars you were ready to get your high on. You expelled the smoke only to open your eyes and scream.

"Jesus fucking CHRIST Bucky. What the FUCK are you doing here?" You screamed trying to put out the joint to hide the evidence of your actions. Bucky's eyes watched you as you were frantically trying to stay calm. "What?" You aggressively asked him as you felt your face becoming crimson.

"I didn't know you smoked weed." He said leaning forward, "I don't mind, I used to smoke weed in my teenage years." He smiled at you, you smiled back. You didn't even mean to smile but this was not typical Bucky behavior. He never smiled at you, always glaring or smirking.

"I only do it when no one else is here, it helps me to calm down and I can do stuff, I don't know." You trailed off at the end, still embarrassed even though Bucky said it didn't bother him.

"Can I try some?" He asked not breaking eye contact, you shrugged and passed him the weed and lighter. "I don't know if it'll work, my body is different now." He said as he brought the weed up to his mouth and lit the joint.

You watched him as he expelled the smoke, he passed it back to you and you followed his actions.

~~~~

You and Bucky had finished off the first joint and decided to light another. You were never like this, but Bucky was being nice and you couldn't wait to tell Nat that you two had bonded.

"Why do you live here and not with your family?" You were brought back to Earth by his question

"They passed a little while ago, part of my mutation is slow-aging. I was born in the 50′s" You ran your hands through your hair, you hadn't been asked about yourself in a while. You figured everyone knew but still treated you like you were 18. Your gene was triggered on your 18th birthday when you were in a car accident with your older sister. Your abilities were triggered, you created a magnetic force-field around the both of you. The car was destroyed and you were never the same after.

Bucky sat there speechless, "I didn't realize" You just nodded your head and shrugged, you were very high and didn't really care about your past at the moment. "I wish I would've known, we have a lot in common." He said leaning back and flexing his arm, you stared at it. It was so intriguing, he rolled down the sleeve of his shirt to cover it and you rolled your eyes.

"You're so sensitive about it, why?" Being as high as you were, you didn't notice Bucky's posture tighten up.

"I've used it to kill people and that's what everyone thinks about when they see it." He looked down, obviously ashamed.

"I don't think so." You said nonchalantly as you took another hit. "Maybe when you had the red star one but with the black one, it's sleek and sexy. That's all I think about when I see it." You put your arms behind your head and crossed your legs after realizing you called him sexy your face was red once again.

"No one has ever called my arm sexy" You closed your eyes, trying to make yourself shrink out of this conversation. Thank god the weed was helping you to feel ~wild~

"Maybe not to your face, I've had conversations about it with people, like Wanda" You said trying to get the subject off of you. You took a peak over at Bucky, he was smirking to himself, looking off the roof and down to the people on the sidewalk. "They look small from here" You said staring at him, you felt awkward, being around for a long time on this Earth meant you had been with lots of men before. However, you never allowed yourself to get close to anyone because they would age and you wouldn't.

"If you think I'm sexy why do you never talk to me, or sit next to me at meetings. There's always an empty seat next to me but you never take it." He said getting defensive, looking at your with cold eyes and crossed arms. You mimicked his position and gave a small smile.

"Bucky, you never speak to me. When you came to live at the tower I came by with cookies and you told me to leave you alone. When we spar you scream at me and call me weak, why would I want to sit next to you?" You spat at the super soldier. You immediately regretted it, "I'm sorry. Look truth is, when you first got here I had a lil bit of a crush." Bucky's eyes shot towards you making you blush, "But that's to be expected yanno, you were the new guy and cute and mysterious and your arm was cool..."

"Sexy, you said." Bucky exclaimed cutting you off, you scrunched your eyes closed and continued,

"Anyways, then the cookie incident so I just said 'eh whatever, he will just be my training partner.' and I never thought about it again." You said, lying about the last part but he didnt need to know that.

"I don't think you're weak, you're incredibly strong, even when you aren't using your powers. You just don't try as hard as you should because you rely on them." You rolled your eyes,

"You always have your arm attached to you, always using it. That's your power so why can't I use mine always." You crossed your arms once again,

"This is the reason I don't talk to you, come to find out you were born in the 50′s, making you much older than I previously thought you were yet you act like a child." He stood up, getting ready to leave. You knew he was right, but he brought up a lot of emotion that you hadn't thought about for a while. You were bombarded with the times when you caught Bucky looking at you during "family" dinners or parties and you started blushing.

"I'm sorry, the weed is supposed to calm me and here I am freaking out." Bucky looked at you and sat back down.

"Don't be sorry, I know I can be a dick. However, even without my arm I could kick your ass." He said smiling widely at you, you looked at him with complete disbelief.

"Really cute Buck, thought we were gonna apologize, confess our attraction to each other and fuck or something, but now I'm not in the mood. I'm gonna hit the hay." You got up, shocking Bucky with your words. He stood up quickly and followed you.

"Hey hey, come on...... did you really mean what you said though? about the fucking, because I don't have to tell anyone." He said leaning against the elevator wall, you shook your head no.

"Look, I'm saying some things tonight, but my mind isn't working that well right now so it doesn't matter because who knows if I even mean it." You could feel your high getting the best of you, becoming all flustered, which is something you never allowed. Especially not in front of Bucky.

"Listen, you're really high right now and you're being honest and open with me. Why don't I return the favor?" He asked you, you stood just staring at him, who was this guy? Smiling at you while also raking his eyes up and down your body. "I think you're beautiful, I have since you brought the cookies to my room. I deal with a lot, bad dreams and constant dark thoughts so I made sure you didn't want to be around me." You scrunched your nose again in confusion.

"Well that's great, I spent the last year and a half thinking you hated me, so every time I thought about you I would feel ashamed." You let out feeling a weight being lifted off your shoulders with the verbal vomit you just threw at Bucky.

"When do you think of me and feel ashamed afterward?" He asked licking his lips, your eyes bulged, and your bit your lip.

"I didn't mean it like that." You started to go on another tangent about how you weren't interested in him like that but he was walking over to you, putting his metal arm up against the wall next to your head. You looked at the arm, at his eyes and then the ground. "I'm uh sorry" You said not looking up at him. "I jus-"

"Enough, you don't need to be sorry for being attracted to me. I already told you I think you're beautiful. I also think it's hot you find my arm sexy. Maybe some time I could show you how it works." You didn't need to look up to know his signature smirk was plastered on his face, your face was on fire and you felt like an innocent little girl again. His tall, muscular figure leaning over you and being dirty was trying you wild.

"I like that." Was all you said, the weed was making you feel so powerful and sexy. You looked up at Bucky, in a matter of seconds he grabbed your wrist with his flesh hand and pulled you out of the elevator and towards the closest room, the laundry room. It was dark and smelt like lavender, Wanda's signature detergent scent. Bucky closed the door and you didn't know what to expect, you yelped when Bucky pushed you against the back of the door.

"Can I kiss you, please?" he asked with an urgency that made your panties wet. You answered him by pulling on his hair, bringing his lips to yours and kissing him. You let out a moan, his lips were rough and chapped. Just like you had imaged they'd be. He wrapped his metal arm around your waist and lifted you up into the air. He put you down on a washer and kissed your neck, you let out another moan as he started kissing down your chest. You started to tug the t-shirt you were wearing over your head when you jumped because of the sudden start of the washer. You looked at Bucky and he was smirking.

"If you leave the washer on it'll send a hum to your clit and then your orgasm will be fantastic" Bucky moaned into your ear as his flesh-hand started to rub your clit. The weed mixed with the fact that Bucky was fingering you as a washing machine rumbled against your clit just right, was sending you to an orgasm.

"B-Bucky, please fuck me" You whispered into his ear, he didn't waste any time. He used his metal arm to rip off your shirt, he moaned at your already naked chest.

"No bra, now that's sexy." He said smiling, you laughed and grabbed at his shirt, once it was over his head you threw off your shirt and begged him to take off his pants. "Fuck me" Was all he said as his metal hand went to touch your breast. You moaned as he pinched one of your nipples and kissed him. You reached down and gasped into the kisses when you felt how huge his cock was.

"Jesus Christ Bucky" You said in between kisses, he smirked into the kiss and thrust his metal fingers into you. "Oh m-" you started to yell, his fingers so cool in your pussy sent you flying into another dimension. You had never felt so much pleasure in all of your years on Earth. Bucky was tired of you getting all the attention, he turned off the washer, causing you to squirm around. Bucky's flesh arm snaked around your waist.

"You don't get to cum just yet." He smiled down at you and you gave him your best angry expression. With that, Bucky jerked his cock off a little and slid it into you, you both moaned out as he started pushing in a little at a time.

"Your cock is so hard, it feels so good." Bucky moaned, this time it was loud.

"Keep talking dirty like that baby, I love it" He whispered into my ear making me moan.

It wasn't long until Bucky's cockiness took over. "Turn around" he growled at you, you rolled your eyes and started turning slowly, too slowly because Bucky grabbed you by the waist with his flesh arm and flipped you around onto your stomach. He slammed into you and took his metal arm and put it around your neck. You moaned out as the cool fingertips wrapped around your neck. You always thought his arm was sexy and having it wrapped around your neck felt incredible. You could feel your orgasm on its way just from his touch.

"You like my arm princess?" He asked squeezing a little tighter, you whimpered, "What was that? Couldn't hear you?" His cocky grin appearing on his face.

You moaned out "Yes, I love it Bucky" You heard a loud grunt and suddenly Bucky was slamming into you faster and harder than before. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum" You screamed, Bucky flipped you around so you were on your back and facing him. He slammed into you again and started using his metal fingers to rub your clit.

You couldn't hold it in anymore and you came harder than you ever had, Bucky removed his fingers from your throbbing clit and wrapped his hand around your neck. He slammed hard into you, if you were a regular human you probably would've been sore the next day.

"Fuck (Y/N)" Bucky whispered as he pulled out, jerking his big load onto your stomach. "Holy shit, sex while high is incredible" he breathed out, falling beside you.

"Yeah it is" You said pulling out another blunt and looking at him, he raised his eyebrows at you, "Wanna go again Buck?"

[imaginesbymonika]

Broken Nose | sidemen x reader (platonic)

Prompt: it’s the anniversary of the sidemen and you reflect on your relationship with them

Warnings: fluff, angst mentioning of depression, eating disorder and childhood trauma and a broken nose

„The final person to join us on stage-.”, Will turns to Stephen, both men are dressed in suits:” She’s a really outstanding person, isn’t she.”.

“We consider her sidemen royalty.”, his friend answers, he glances at the audience:” She has nicknames such as ‘sidemen-sister’ and she grew up right in front of our eyes.”. Stephen makes a hand motion, behaving as if he’s wiping away a tear:” We were introduced to her at the age of 8, now she’s precious 18 years old.”. “Which is the legal age.”. “Legal age.”, The blonde YouTuber responds and makes a finger gun towards his friend.

Jj, who sits next to the sidemen in-front of the stage stands up and points his right index finger at them, in a playful but serious manner:” Very fragile and thin ice, boys! Very, very thin.“. Will puts his arms up in defense and takes one step back:” Just saying... just saying.”

“Now, give it up for Y/N Y/L/N!”.

While the audience cheers a young woman walks up the steps, she glows at Will and Stephen before standing behind the lectern. She lets out a sweet chuckle and leans closer to the microphone:” Legal age isn’t the equivalent to consens. Keep on dreaming, Stephen.”. Everyone in the room begins to laugh and clap, while JJ and Ethan both stand up to applaud. When the room becomes peaceful again Y/N stares at the seven men in front of her.

Y/N sighs:” Here we are, your guy’s 10th anniversary. How time flies- I couldn’t help but realize how I’m the only one here, who doesn’t have something written down beforehand.”. A few people laugh.“I began to write a speech, something poetic- but I just couldn’t. It didn’t feel right to come prepared- after all nothing in our relationship ever was. It just sincerely happened- developed over time. Like the day I met Simon and Harry shattered my nose-.”.

You perked up at the boy with the blonde hair, your face burned like crazy, and while everyone around you predicted you to sob or scream you were mute. “Oh shit!”, Simon, who stared at you uttered a profanity and ran a hand down his face:” Shit, shit, shit!”.

“I am so sorry!”, Harry, who sat down in front of you bits his lip, while eyeing your bleeding nose.“I think you broke her!”, Tobi said and took a deep breath while anxiously running a hand through his hair:” She isn’t crying... why isn’t she crying?! Her nose is fucking broken!”. “The ambulance is on their way!”, Ethan joined the group and squatted to look into your eyes:” You’ll be alright, you understand me.”.

“Why did she follow- gosh, my mom's going to straight-up slaughter me!”, Simon turned around, and your eyes follow his motions. „Dude, stop being selfish- her fucking nose is broken!“, JJ peeked at his friend with confusion in his eyes.

„Because you said - ‘Kate, stay at home.”, you explained suddenly and everyone stared at you:” That’s not my name, I told you my name is Y/N.”. “A know-it-all.”, Simon murmured. “Dude, you are a terrible babysitter.”, Josh shook his head and everyone nods their heads in agreement.

The audience laughs at your anecdote and Simon puts his hands in front of his face. “The next day, they all visited me in the hospital- possibly because Simon and Harry felt guilty, but afterward I began to be invited to help out with their videos every now and then. That’s how everything started. A broken nose hurt like hell, but I’m still happy it happened.“, you halt: “It’s so strange, I’ve watched you guys mature into these remarkable human beings- I still can’t believe that the last ten years happened. You were there for me, you’ve seen the good but also the bad and you still decided to stay.”.

“Okay, so-“, a sixteen-year-old Y/N who crouched on the floor looked up. The seven sidemen who were sitting on the couch stared at her with concern in their eyes. She took a deep, risky breath before folding her hands in her lap. “Y/N, you’re worrying us.”.

“As you guys know, I have been seeing a therapist recently- because of the shit that went on at home.”.

The boys nod. You had told them about the emotional abuse your parents had put you through, almost your full life. Ethan and Vic were the ones who had watched it first hand, both of them were equally shocked- they encouraged you to find the right therapist in the first place. “She said, I have several mental problems. Depression, trauma, and anxiety- as well as a mild eating disorder. Anorexia nervosa.”.

Without saying anything JJ got up and sat down next to you, he jerked you into a bone-crushing hug. One by one, the guys did the same- until all of them were squatting next to you on the floor.

“We will help you, no matter what. You’re our sister.”.

“I never managed to inform you, how much that meant to me.”, you tfeel how your eyes get teary:” You chose to stay, supported me- in moments when my biological family failed to provide me the emotional safety I needed...you were there and no phrases could ever properly express my gratitude.”

The seven guys, who are sitting in leather chairs in front of the stage perk up at you. Their eyes are filled with love and adoration, while JJ is the first one to crack. A few tears run down his cheeks, while Jack behind him offers him a tissue.

“Now look, I made him cry.”, you tease him, while letting out a weak laugh:” I don’t.”. You sniffle and everyone in the room laughs:” JJ, he once punched a guy for hitting on me inappropriately at a club.”, you glance into the camera and wipe away a tear while chuckling:” Don’t settle for less, ladies.”. Once again, the room laughs and a few girls cheer.

“Ethan, I don’t know if I ever told you that. But particularly you encouraged me a lot with recovering from my eating disorder.”, you look at him and his eyes widen in surprise:” I usually, don’t talk about my mental health. But you taught me, to enjoy food- or at least accept it again. To have you around, comforted me so much and I am so thankful for that!”. He lets out an unstable laugh as well and winks at you, while you can see him tearing up as well.

„I know, that I will never be eligible to pay you back for all the things you’ve done for me- but, what I can offer you are my devotion and support. I hope you know, that you will eternally have these two things.“, now a few tears are rolling down your cheek: “I may not always approve with what you seven are doing, and when I hear how you are doing some risky stunts for a video- I will proceed to shake my head and notify you how foolish you are, but at the end of the day, I’ll be the first one visiting you at the hospital. You are my seven brothers and I love you so so much.“.

You wipe the tears away: “Congratulations, guys.“. The audience cheers and you walk down the stairs, the guys stand up, and one by one you give each of them a bone-crushing hug.

You admired them.

[hawkinsindiana]

we’re safe now

ALMOST PARADISE: PART TWO - CHAPTER TWELVE OF FIFTEEN

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader

word count: 3.3k

a/n: ahhh i’m sorry this is coming a week late! but i really appreciate everyone being patient while i sort out all the issue with my health. luckily, i’ll be able to post the next chapter next week so we’re back on schedule! again, i can’t thank you all enough for the support and overwhelming love i’ve received recently, so this is for you guys <3

masterlist

Almost two weeks have passed since that night. You’ve been counting the days like some twisted tally, unable to stop reminding yourself of the events that occurred. It bothers you to no end - why you can’t seem to get them out of your head.

The nightmare certainly isn’t helping you cope.

You can’t recall all of the details; you just remember how it felt when your body jolted, how your fingers rushed to grab the smooth grip of the pipe resting beneath your bed - until you realized it was only your subconscious mind playing tricks.

That shadow cast by your dresser wasn’t Billy Hargrove. 

It’s only been five days, but sleep has eluded you ever since.

It seems that everyone’s already moved on. Their lives haven’t stopped or slowed down by what happened. Even Will’s adjusted well, or as well as can be expected. Every little bit of progress is like ten steps in the right direction for the Byers’ boy.

“Hey-” The eraser on the end of Steve’s pencil jabs you in the arm, bringing your scrambled thoughts back to reality - back to him.

“What d’you think about ten? A or D?”

Your eyes drift from Steve, sitting in the chair beside yours, to the worksheet on the table. You’d completely forgotten about it - the pen in your hand had been drawing circles absently onto the paper.

“I, uh-” You clear your throat, gaze bouncing between the four questions you managed to answer, “I didn’t get there yet.”

Steve scoffs as he leans over to take a look; he doesn’t believe a word of it. You always get through these faster than him. But when he realizes that you haven’t flipped to the second page, a touch of worry settles in his stomach.

“Jesus, Henderson. Where’s your head at?”

Steve asks it like it’s a joke. You don’t know if you appreciate or despise the delivery.

On one hand, you’re happy that he feels lighter than you do. Your troubled mind is thankful for the levity it desperately needs. 

But then again, you don’t feel like you’re really here - you think you could just fall right through the floor, forever destined to drown in these emotions.

Dustin says that’s typical until the concussion wears off; but you’re not concerned about physical trauma.

You reply to Steve just as the bell rings, marking the end of the school day.

“Well, uh… the kids wanna get together tonight, but now that there’s so many of ‘em, Karen won’t let them hang at the Wheeler’s. Mike’s been on my ass to help find a spot.”

That’s not a lie - it has been on your mind. Mike has been bugging you about it, desperate to spend more time with El now that she’s returned. That’s cute and all, just as long as you’re not being dragged into it.

Steve’s brow creases before grabbing your bag from the back of your chair. He swings it over his shoulder, carrying his own books by his side; until your hand heals, you’re not going to have to lift a finger.

“Why can’t you just have it at your place?” 

“Not enough room for them all to stay over,” You respond, “Max and Mike refuse to sleep on the floor. We only have one couch.”

As soon as the pair of you step out into the crowded corridor, your eyes catch the snide glances in your direction.

It didn’t take long before people started to figure out what happened.

The injuries that litter your faces were quickly connected to Billy’s split knuckles - which he’s been showing off proudly. To no one’s surprise, it sparked a whole array of rumors. 

Don’t forget the shocking twist that Nancy Wheeler showed up to class with Jonathan Byers on her arm, prompting even more whispers and speculation. Needless to say, it’s been a rough couple of weeks at Hawkins High for you both.

But as soon as you’re free from the fluorescent lights and greeted with autumn’s crisp afternoon breeze, peace starts to settle in. 

“They could hang out at my place.”

Steve’s comment causes you to spin around and stop in your tracks. Your confused expression meets his plain one; he simply shrugs, not acknowledging your reaction, “You know, if they wanted to.” 

He continues on, brushing past you on his way towards the parking lot before you pick up the pace.

“Wait, seriously?” You question after coming to Steve’s side, baffled that he would offer such a thing, “You know that you don’t have to do that, right?”

Steve chuckles a bit, amused by your tone and the shock you radiate, “What, it’s not like anybody’s using it anyways. My parents won't get back until late Sunday night.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into, Harrington?” You add after approaching the passenger’s side of his car, “They’re even worse when the world’s not at stake.”

“I’m pretty sure I can handle it,” Steve replies, tossing your belongings into the back seat. He shuts the door before opening yours. A touch of concern floods his mind, “Wait, you’re coming too right?”

You fold your arms over your chest; a small smirk curls your mouth upwards, “I thought you could handle it.”

“Well, you know… there are six of ‘em-”

“Relax!” You laugh, shoving Steve lightly. The action makes you realize that you hadn’t noticed how close he’d gotten - it makes your heart skip a beat. He mirrors your bright smile as you finish, “Of course I’ll be there. I’m not that cruel.”

—

One word. That’s all it took to convince them. Dustin, on the other hand, was on board with the idea as soon as you mentioned it.

The door chime rings once, then seven more times before Steve finally swings open the front door. He’s met with Max’s smug grin, pointer finger pressed against the doorbell. 

Steve frowns when she doesn’t let up - the annoying sound still echoes through the house. Just as he’s about to tell her to quit it, Lucas slaps her hand away; the action earns him a prompt shove on the arm.

“I heard there was a pool,” Max says. 

Her overnight pack is slung over her shoulder, sunglasses perched on the bridge of her nose. The group is huddled onto the step, all carrying their belongings with them.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve steps back, pulling the door back with him, “Down the hall, take a left-”

“I’ll find it. Come on guys.”

The girl pushes forwards, with Lucas and Will pursuing closely behind her. Mike and El follow soon after - El’s hand is wrapped tightly around his elbow.

Steve starts to grow concerned when he doesn’t see you or your brother. Maybe you ditched him to go hang out with Hargrove. 

He hates that he thought that. Of course you wouldn’t. It still bothers him though, why you said yes.

But then Steve hears your bickering cut through the chilly November breeze, and he can’t help the warmth that spreads through his chest. 

“Here, take this-”

“No! I’m not carrying your shit!”

The corner of Steve’s mouth curls up at your tone. He hopes he gets used to your arguments - god knows he doesn’t want to lose either of you.

And then he thinks about what was admitted that night. That maybe things would be better if he realized how happy you make him.

That he’s happier when he’s with you than he was with Nancy.

That scares him. He doesn’t know why.

—

Max couldn’t get into the pool fast enough; she was still wearing one of her socks when she drove in. She quickly found out it wasn’t deep enough to do so.

“I still can’t believe you convinced Hop to let her come,” Steve mutters, approaching your side before passing you a can of Coke.

As much as you might wish it was something stronger, you’re not sure you’d like to be tipsy around any of the kids. Who knows what secrets could spill.

Steve gestures to El, who’s perfectly content just dipping her toes into the warm water; you taught her how to roll her jeans into tight, clean cuffs as to not get her clothes wet. She watches the others throw around a foam football, clapping anytime someone catches it successfully - which isn’t often.

You shrug a bit and gladly accept the drink, “As soon as he heard I would be there, he was fine with it. You know, I’m trustworthy.”

Steve’s standing a little too close - his arm brushes yours every few moments. Every touch has been amplified since you felt the undeniable electricity; any nudge or tap makes your heart rate pick up, no matter how small.

Steve doesn’t get to reply, Will’s pass just misses Mike’s hand; the ball bounces against the concrete before landing against the fence on the other side of the yard.

You sigh while sending a nasty glare to the boys, setting down your soda, “Wait, I’ve got it.”

Steve chuckles as you walk over, waving off their excuses and holding conversation; he can’t hear the banter over the radio that’s blasting the hits. And then something comes to mind, something you’d hate. 

He kneels down next to El - her curls bounce as she turns her head to him. Steve keeps his voice low, eyes bouncing between you and the young girl, “I’ve got an idea.”

“Mike, you missed a perfectly good shot!” You say, siding with Will in the argument. 

“Thank you!” He exclaims, “At least somebody notices talent around here.” He smiles when you send him a sly wink and a thumbs up.

Mike’s words stutter as he attempts to defend himself, “My-my hands are WET! We’re in a POOL! It’s not my fault!” He’s motioning wildly now, splashing water around as he speaks.

You start to approach the water’s edge, spinning the ball between your fingers as you answer, “Yeah, tell that to the other thirty times you miss-”

As soon as you come close enough to the pool, you’re pushed a few feet forward, limbs flailing rapidly in surprise. A wave cascades over the group as you land in the water, quickly drenching them and turning Dustin and Lucas into sputter messes; they can’t tell if they’re coughing or cackling.

Once your head comes up from the surface, Steve and El’s laughter grabs your attention. Steve offers his hand for a high-five, which she eagerly returns, “Nice job, kid - that was awesome!”

You brush your hair away from your face and begin blinking rapidly to rid it from your eyes, “You two are so gonna get it!”

“It was Steve’s idea,” El replies between giggles, to which the boy in question deflects the blame, “Wha- you’re the one who did it!” 

“What the hell was that?!”

“Oh come on, that was funny!” Steve answers your outburst, relishing the moment that came before, “You should’ve seen the look on your face, Henderson. Absolutely priceless.”

The frown you have cracks a bit at his joy. It’s hard to not let his infectious happiness influence you. The water’s deep enough to come up to your chest as you wade over to the pair of them, “But now my clothes are all wet! These are my good jeans!”

Steve exhales, feeling a bit of guilt wash over him at your whining, “Alright fine. I’ll help you up, come here.”

But as soon as Steve’s fingers wrap around your bicep, yours tighten on his wrist - Dustin would recognize your mischievous expression anywhere.

“Wait, Steve-”

Your brother’s comment comes too late, because you’ve already yanked Steve in too. Another splash covers the kids; Lucas wipes water from his cheeks, “Oh, come on!”

“There. Now we’re even,” You add as Steve combs his hair back. It sticks up in chunks in random places, making your mouth curl up in a smirk.

“I guess I deserved that,” Steve coughs as he pulls his soaked sweater from his skin, before turning to you when a laugh bubbles from your throat.

“You should’ve seen your face, Harrington.”

There’s a pause before Steve responds. He’s overwhelmed by your actions, how that glint in your eyes makes his heart flutter, makes him speechless for the first time in a long time.

Instead he lunges, an arm wrapping loosely around your waist to pull you closer, only to splash more water in your face. 

“You’re so dead!” You shout before pushing Steve back underneath the water, but his hold strengthens, pulling you down with him briefly before popping up again. 

There’s a moment that occurs right after breaking the surface. 

Your hand comes to rest on Steve’s shoulder, the fabric of his clothes twist in your fist as your gazes meet. Heat crawls up your neck when his palm slides over your back, and his focus is drawn to your lips. 

God, he could kiss you right now. 

But he’s still in love with Nancy. And nothing about this is fair to you.

Then the realization hits - the kids are still here. 

“I’ll uh-“ Steve clears his throat, moving himself away as you drop your hand. When his touch finally leaves you, the exhale you were holding releases into the sky, suddenly expelled from your lungs.

Steve nods once, a somber manner about him, “I’ll find you something dry to wear.”

You swallow harshly as the feelings start to settle; your stomach aches. Turns out that things between you and Steve weren’t going as well as you thought they were.

Maybe what he said didn’t mean anything. Maybe he’s just confused. Maybe he’s just using you as a way to get over his heartache.

You feel like you could throw up.

You’re barely able to look at the kids, who are all staring silently in your direction, puzzled by what they just witnessed.

“If you guys need anything, I’ll be inside,” You say softly before hoisting yourself up on the metal ladder.

Lucas is the first to speak once you’ve retreated inside.

“Alright, please tell me we all saw that?”

—

You can’t sleep. Not that you’re surprised, you weren’t expecting to.

You just hate how this feels - uncertainty and fear don’t mix well inside your brain.

Even if everything is shitty, at least your relationship with Steve seemed to be better. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking. 

But you can only lie here and listen to Max’s light snores for so long; you need some fresh air. Turns out, you’re not the only person with the same desire.

It’s your voice that draws Steve’s attention.

“You know, the last person out here alone got snatched up, Harrington.”

He can’t help the small smile that spreads over his face at the sight of you, standing there wrapped up in one of his mother’s expensive throws; the hood from his sweatshirt pops out a bit at the top, helping to keep you toasty. 

“Oh yeah? You got a death wish, Henderson?”

You go silent for a moment, hesitating with your response - your exhausted brain can’t seem to come up with a reply. The mixture of the cool November air and the heat that rises from the pool washes over you in waves. It makes your body desperately wish that it could relax.

“No, no I don’t,” You finally reply, moving to sit down next to the water’s edge, “Not yet, anyways.” 

Steve grows confused at your answer. It’s not at all what he expected you to say. He waits a few seconds, pondering his options before deciding to join you. 

His skin tears slightly at the contact with the rough concrete, his eyes are cast towards the ground. 

Your breathing begins to steady once Steve takes a seat by your side, leg pressed to yours. You feel better having him here - you don’t like being alone anymore.

“I can’t sleep either,” He says.

You don’t even have to mention it; he recognizes that look on your face, the desperation for a hint of rest. But he doesn’t know if that’s because he’s still reeling from the harrowing experiences, or if it’s because Nancy’s not there next to him anymore.

“Will went missing about half a block from here,” Steve continues, “It still freaks me out to think about that.”

“There’s a street light right outside my window,” You add, picking at a loose string on your pajama bottoms, “Nine times out of ten I think it’s that thing. And I know that there’s no way it could be...”

You sniffle after trailing off; Steve shifts his gaze to you, watching as you peer out over the calm and quiet landscape, “But that doesn’t stop my mind from imagining it.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say to that. He wishes that he had known about this sooner. Maybe he could’ve helped you move on.

He wants to keep you talking. He hopes that would help you, but he doesn’t want to cross any boundaries. 

That was never something he thought about before. But juggling with these new feelings about you has him reconsidering everything about your friendship. He doesn’t want to make anymore mistakes; you don’t deserve that.

“How are you holding up otherwise?” Steve asks.

Your brow furrows as you hold your hands in your lap, grimacing at the sight of your healing bones. There’s no wonder why you haven’t been able to adjust - a constant reminder is always in sight. 

Your chest heaves as a warm breath expels into the air, “I just… I can’t get rid of that feeling.”

“Which one?” Steve’s eyes are now on your face, studying you softly. The lights from beneath the pool’s surface gloss over your features - it’s absolutely mesmerizing. 

“I’m still so scared, Steve,” You gulp, gaze trained on the water ahead, “I’m so scared that something’s gonna happen again.”

“Eleven closed the gate,” He says, “We’re safe now.” 

You shake your head slightly, pulling the blanket closer to your chilled frame, “That’s not what scares me.”

You don’t need to continue for Steve to understand. He can’t imagine what’s been running through your mind, although your behavior from the past few weeks is starting to make more sense.

A light dusting of purple and blue still covers your jawline. God, how he wishes he could wipe it all away, forget that ever happened, forget that it’s his fault you’re burdened with the memory of that night. He didn’t do enough. 

Maybe if he had, you would have been spared.

“I’m terrified of what he did to you.”

Steve’s admission hangs in the air for a moment. He almost grows embarrassed of it, but being vulnerable doesn’t scare him as much as it did. 

He’ll never be able to get that image out of his head. You, bruised and bloodied at Billy’s mercy - he sees it when he closes his eyes at night.

You don’t know what to feel at his words, you just know that it makes your heart race. You don’t think you’ve ever had someone say anything like that to you before. 

Steve’s forehead creases when he feels your fingertips brush his knuckles, still tender from trying to beat Hargrove senseless.

He adjusts to intertwine your hands, feeling a sudden wave of relief come over him as your palms press together. Then, somehow you’re both inching even closer, head resting on his shoulder as it becomes painfully clear.

He knows why he was scared before. Because this, this feels real. 

“It took me a while to get over her too,” You say, voice just above a whisper, “She has a way with people, you know.”

Steve doesn’t understand how you can make something sound both emotionally heavy and soft at the same time. 

His lips are pressing a kiss to your temple soon after - reassurance that he’ll be here for you. You squeeze his hand tighter in response, closing your eyes as the anxiety dulls.

“Yeah, I know.”

—

taglist: @stevebabey​ / @mrs-skywalker​ / @hannarudick​ / @crazycookiecrumbles​ / @hellisateenageheather​ / @alewifex​ / @l0ve-0f-my-life​ / @naomiiiiiiiiiii04​ / @daddystevee​ / @thecaptainsgingersnap​ / @let-the-imaginationflow​ / @asianravenpuff​ / @im-a-stranger-thing​ / @mikariell95​ / @pilunb​ / @harringtherin​ / @royalestrellas​ / @ultrunning​ / @buggs177 / @poutfull​ / @yoheyyosup​ / @duchessdaisybat​ / @janieavalos / @sassisaluxury​ / @beththebubbly​ / @i-bitch-you-bitch​ / @captainstilinskis​ / @juliebean247​ / @im-nada / @whatabeautifulsurrender​ / @rexorangecouny​ / @pass-me-jeez-it​ / @ahoy-scoops-troop​ / @halefirewarrior​ / @jointhehunt67 / @wallacetdog​ / @ketchuplukehemmo​ / @m-a-r-i-n-t-p / @fangirl485 / @emmegirl827 / @lookalivesunshine-x​ / @elite4cekalyma / @marjoherbo / @just-my-fandom / @idumpyourgrass​ / @alafolieee​​ / @mochminnie​ / @phantomalchemist​ / @dustyblueboo​ / @alonewolfsblog​ / @ggclarissa​ / @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​ / @bippityboppitybabe​

if you wanna be added to the taglist, just lemme know!

[thegreatestofheck]

Little Village pt.2＊Outer Banks＊

Find part one here! 

word count - 2407 warnings- a little bit of underage drinking but nothing other than that synopsis - June is overwhelmed with support from her little family. She struggles with the fear of taking after her own parents. As word starts to spread that she is pregnant, June has to decide which battles she’s going to fight and which she’ll let slide.  tagging - @apoguecalledjj @ijustreallylovethem @jxpiter-sxturn  a/n - so I just realized that “She Used to be Mine” from Waitress is pretty on par with the story I had planned out for June, so do with that what you will. I hope you enjoy this as much as the last one! The love I received made me feel so amazing, you have no idea. Thank you all so much! You know the drill; stay safe, stay healthy, stay groovy! 

***

June could have very well told them that the sky was blue from the boys’ lack of reaction. 

“Say something,” Kie said, hands on June’s shoulder. 

“We knew,” John B said finally. 

“You knew?” 

“Well, actually, I figured it out,” JJ said, leaning back in his chair and tucking his hands behind his head. 

“When?” June asked, voice breaking.

“That day I came home early.”

“How?” 

“I know you better than you think, Jue. You were sick, you weren’t drinking, you barely even yelled at me for smoking in the house-”

“You were smoking in the house?”

“Shut up, John B. So, yeah, I figured it out. I had to tell John B because, well, you’re his big sis. Pope was being a snoop and he overheard.”

Mouth hung open, June dropped her head into her hands. 

“And you didn’t tell me?” Kie asked. “What happened to no secrets between Pogues?”

“We thought you knew!” Pope protested. “Being a girl and all, we thought she told you.” 

June wanted to vomit all over the floor. They knew this entire time. She had been trying to hide it for weeks and they knew. But they didn’t hate her. They didn’t treat her any differently. They still cared for her. 

An unwanted wave of emotion passed through June and a sob came from her mouth, followed by a few tears. Kie dropped to her knees, arms still around June’s shoulders. 

John B slid out of his chair and joined her on the floor. 

“Hey, Junebird?” She looked up at him, shocked to hear her old nickname coming from his mouth. There were tears in his eyes as he folded her hands in his. “You’re not alone in this. I’m right beside you.” 

“Yeah,” JJ said. “You’ve been there for us when we needed it. We’ve got your back.” 

“Anything my family can do for you,” Pope added, scooting closer. “Just name it and it’s yours.” 

“We’re your family, June,” whispered Kie. “We’re not going anywhere.” 

When the emotions hit again, June reached out and pulled John B into a tight hug, trying to keep herself from crying in front of her little brother. A feeling of strength passed through her when John B hugged her back. Kie dropped her head against June’s shoulder. Soon, she felt JJ and Pope add themselves to the hug, June crying at the center. 

She wasn’t sure why she had ever doubted them. Kie was right. They had always been her family. While it was true that her dad had been murdered only a year ago, she had lost him long before that. Without a mother and without a father, June wondered to herself how well she could raise a child. Was she even the right person to do so? What kind of life could she give a baby, working double shifts at a diner?

She wouldn’t let herself think about it now, though. For now, she wanted to be content that no matter what happened, she had a family surrounding her to help her raise a child. That was all she needed. 

***

JJ tossed the book onto the dining room table, making June pick up her head. She blinked sleep out of her eyes as she looked up at him and then back down at the book. 

“What’s this?” She asked, picking up the book. 

“Baby names,” he said, flopping into the chair across from her, kicking his feet up onto the table. 

“Feet off the table, J,” she said, flipping through the book. JJ rolled his eyes, not moving his feet. “Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass.”

JJ grinned and dropping his feet back down to the ground, leaning forward to snatch the book out of June’s hands. She sighed, glaring at him. 

“Since we know it’s going to be a boy, I’m just going to ignore all the girl names,” he said, flipping to the back of the book. 

“We don’t know it’s going to be a boy,” June said, dropping her tired head into her hands. JJ put his fingers to his temple and squeezed his eyes shut. “What are you doing?”

“Manifesting.”

“Stop manifesting my baby.” 

“Our baby, Jue.” June shook her head. “Little baby Pogue will be one of us from birth.” 

“Great,” June said, leaning back with a hand on her stomach. 

“So, I was thinking you need a good, strong name. Oh, I know a perfect on.” JJ stuck his finger in the air as if it was a light bulb. “JJ. It’s perfect.”

“If you think I’m naming my baby after you, J, think again,” June said, closing her eyes. “Besides, I don’t think want to think about names until baby is born.” 

“Oh, well, the others already have their own lists so you’re gonna have to take it up with them.” 

June groaned as a sharp pain shot through her back. 

“Lemme guess,” she said, shifting in her seat and grimacing. “Your list just consists of your name in as many different versions as you can muster.”

“No,” JJ said, dropping the book back onto the table. “I only have one name on my list.”

“And what’s that?”

“Elliot.”

“Elliot?”

“Yeah. My mom’s name was Eleanor, so, since it’s a boy, I thought Elliot was a pretty good alternative.”

“We don’t know it’s a boy, J,” June said. But she liked the idea. June promised herself that she wouldn’t think about names until the birth. She didn’t even want to know gender until then. It wasn’t important now. 

But as she lay in bed, June couldn’t help but run the name over and over in her head. Elliot. 

“Little Eli?” She whispered to herself in the dark, resting a hand on her stomach. With a shake of her head, June rolled over and squeezed her eyes together. 

***

June somehow thought she had more time before she began to show through her clothes. In her mind, she could pretend that she was just bloating, and maybe that was a lie she could use, but she realized quickly that wasn’t the case. 

She was at the general store, picking up food for that night’s dinner. Nothing sounded good, nothing normal at least. She wanted to make peanut butter sandwiches with cucumbers and ranch, but she had a houseful of people who would probably balk at the idea. 

With a basket full of food that she had no desire to eat, June went to the candy isle. Never before had she craved anything sour, but all she could think about now was sour skittles. She threw a few packets into her basket before starting for the front of the store. 

Before she made it very far, someone stepped in the way. 

“Get out of my way, Topper.” 

Ever since Rafe had gone to rehab or wherever to get himself better, Topper had taken over as douche numero uno. He especially had it out for John B and, of course, June. He was a pest more than anything, a rock in her sandal. She just couldn’t shake him out. 

“I’ve heard a rumor about you, June,” Topper said, leaning against one of the shelves as he munched on an apple. June sucked in a deep breath and tried to smile. 

“And what would that be?”

“That you’ve got a little bun in the oven.” Sickness passed through her as Topper’s gaze dropped down to her stomach. June rolled her eyes to cover the fact that she wanted to vomit on his Prada shoes. 

“Maybe you should stop listening to rumors,” she said, attempting to shove her way past him. 

“Then I guess you’re just getting fat,” Topper said with a shrug. June sneered at him and shoved him out of her way. “Tell your brother he better watch his back. I’ve seen that girlfriend of his sneaking around a lot recently.” 

June knew full well why Sarah had been sneaking around. She had let John B tell his girlfriend and ever since then, Sarah had been at the Chateau almost every morning to hold June’s hair back while she emptied her guts into the toilet. Sarah came with a helpful tips, soft hands, and quiet humming. Of course, June would never tell Topper that in a million years. 

“Will do,” June said, pushing past him. 

She was in a bad mood all the way back to the Chateau, grumbling to herself about stupid children and idiot boys. Pope and Kie sat outside when June got there. 

“Hey,” June said as she neared. 

“Howdy ho,” Pope replied, flipping through the baby name book. 

“I’m going to take a nap, I think,” June said, her feet starting to drag. “I have a shift tonight so I got some pasta. Tell JJ not to burn it this time.”

“JJ burned pasta?” Kie asked, a small smile on her face. June titled her head to the side and clicked her tongue. 

“Have you told your boss yet?” Pope asked. June shook her head, setting the bag of groceries down on the porch. 

“I don’t think I’m going to, not until the last minute,” June said. “I just don’t want to put any more pressure on her.”

“I have no idea how you’re going to hide it,” Pope said, shaking his head and looking back at the book. June watched him scribble something on a piece of paper. 

“High waisted jeans and flow-y shirts,” June told him with a smile. 

“Go, rest,” Kie said, picking up the groceries. “I’ll make sure dinner gets made.”

“Thanks, babe,” June said, giving a short kiss to Kie’s head. 

“You’re going to be a good mother, Jue,” Kie told her, taking June’s hand. June smiled, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she turned toward the house and stepped inside. 

Falling into her bed, June heaved out a deep sigh. Before she fell asleep, she set a quiet alarm that would give her enough time to freshen up before heading off to the diner for work. 

But she couldn’t fall asleep. It didn’t matter how hard she tried or how tightly she squeezed her eyes, sleep wouldn’t come to her. 

Kie’s words rumbled around in her head. A good mother...a good mother. 

What did June know about being a good mother? The last thing she remembered of her own mother was watching her run out the front door, John B crying on the floor. June remembered the heartbreak she felt, not at watching her mother leave but listening to her little brother cry. 

June didn’t have the first clue what it took to be a parent. Even with her little village, June wasn’t sure why she was kidding herself thinking that there was any hope for her child. Who would be raising the baby? A bunch of teenagers who wanted to spend their days smoking and drinking and herself, who was barely older and with fewer aspirations. 

When her alarm started to ring, June felt herself stiffen. She wanted to sleep, but it wasn’t coming to her. And now there was no time. She pulled on the pants with the highest waist, covering the small bump, before pulling on a loose fitted shirt. 

She worked and smiled through the discomfort. Her feet hurt more than usual, but she wasn’t sure why. Her back ached even from something so simple as bending down to pick plates up off of tables. It felt like even breathing made her exhausted. She spent her entire shift hiding her desire to vomit behind a smile. 

The moon was out by the time June returned home, grumpier than she had been earlier in the day. 

JJ and John B were sitting at the table, both Kie and Pope were gone. June was glad to see them chatting, empty bowls in on the table in front of them. When she walked in, they both turned to look at her with smiles. 

“There’s some pasta left,” John B said, pointing at the stove. 

“I’ll get it for you,” JJ said as he pushed himself out of the chair. 

“Sit down, J. I’m pregnant, not paralyzed.” 

Still, JJ went over to the stove, grabbing a clean bowl off the counter. John B patted the chair next to him and June lowered herself into it. 

“I see someone finally cleaned the dishes,” she said, hiding a grimace with a smile. 

“It was Pope and Kie,” John B said. “They had it done before we got home.”

“What were you two doing today anyway?” June asked, leaning back in her chair. 

“Oh, just stuff,” John B said, playing his shoe laces. 

“Just stuff?” 

“Yeah. Just...stuff.” 

June narrowed her eyes at her brother, but conceded eventually. She breathed out, dropping a hand to her stomach. 

“So, JJ said that you have a list of names for the baby,” she said. “What’s your first pick?”

“Little Pogue is yours, Jue. Maybe I have a few ideas, but-”

“Are you really calling my baby ‘Little Pogue’?” June asked. JJ walked over and put down a bowl of pasta in front of June. “Thanks, J.”

“We’ve all been calling him Little Pogue,” John B said. 

“And do you all think it’s going to be a boy?” June asked with a smile. 

“Pope and Kie think it’s a girl,” JJ said, popping off the cap of a beer. 

June rolled her eyes, eating the pasta slowly. It didn’t really make her feel any better and it was the last thing she really wanted to be eating, but she ate it anyway. There was no need to worry JJ or her brother by not eating. 

“You should sleep, Junebird,” John B said, standing up and putting his hands on June’s shoulders from behind. 

“Yeah,” she said with a yawn, chewing slowly on her pasta. She stood slowly, picking up her bowl. 

“I’ll take that,” John B said. 

“Again,” June said with a laugh. “Just pregnant, not paralyzed.” 

JJ and John B started chattering to each other again, arguing about something that June didn’t really care to listen to. 

“Goodnight, boys,” June sighed, starting toward the back room. 

“Night, Jue!” JJ called. 

“Sleep well,” John B echoed.

June smiled to herself as she shut her door. The day had been long, she was exhausted, but there was still a small glow in her heart. This time, when June crawled into her bed, she had no issues going to sleep. 

[isthisthingeven0n]

our private traps : d.d

brief summary: you’ve known the vs for years, and they’ve understood your struggles with depression, but now you’re sinking and all they want to do is help 

word count: 1.2k requested: yes, by a very sweet anon. they told me about a video by wicked dreams called ‘we’re all in our private traps’ and me being me knew it was from psycho and damn, that hit home hard - especially recently so a lot of this is a combination of that video and personal experiences.  warnings: heavy mentions of depression, if you’re sensitive or vulnerable to these topics, I would suggest skipping this one

* masterlistin’ / masterlistin’ 2.0

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it isn’t me. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

Sometimes it can be described as a tidal wave. You aren’t sure how severe it could be, whether the damages will be devasting or barely disturb an environment. But you can see it coming or hear it. Most of the time, that can be true until the sun descends and you’re submerged into darkness. 

Your life for the past three years can be described as crazy, pure madness and excitement with each passing day. You wake up to the sight of your boyfriend with his lazy smile and before you know it, camera’s appear left right and centre. 

Despite how hectic your life is with everyone you know, you still feel empty, lost inside. No matter how much you want and try to step away from it, you always retreat back to the same cage you were born in as you close the door behind you. 

Once the doors are closed, you won’t let anyone in simply because you don’t know how to anymore. It used to be easier, to just tell them you can’t feel anything. It doesn’t matter how many scare pranks are pulled or who gets a car, you can’t feel what they all feel and it suffocates you. 

Standing outside of your bedroom door, David’s hand hovers over the doorknob as he contemplates what to do once more. 

He often finds himself in this position, that hesitance to force a smile and walk in to see you. He knows you might crack a smile, but it won’t be filled with excitement at the thought of going to a zoo to meet the new snakes like everyone else.  

You rarely cry anymore, and that is something David never truly understood. Growing up, you’re taught to cry means you’re upset or wanting attention. Now you cry in silence, sometimes you look at yourself in the mirror and wonder why no tears will fall, why you can’t be normal like everyone else. 

“You gotta go in sometime, Dave.” Natalie speaks up from behind him, holding a glass of water and a mug of tea for you. She knows you might not drink them, that they have the potential to join the growing pile laced around the surfaces of your room, but it’s the thought that counts. “She’s not a monster, she’s still Y/n.” She pats his arm as she encourages him with a soft smile. 

David nods. “I just don’t know what to say anymore, she won’t open up like she used to.” He says with a small sigh, not wanting to turn it around and make the situation about him. 

“Just speak to her.” Natalie says calmly. “If you want us to have a girls night, that can easily be arranged.”

Forcing a smile, David takes hold of the glass and mug in her grip as Natalie helps open your bedroom door. 

It never gets easier when you retreat to your private trap. You seem so lost in yourself whilst everyone else is able to continue. It’s as if they can’t see the constant threat, the fear that looms your world and plagues your mind. No one can see how bored you truly are, how hollow you feel inside. 

Your eyes gaze over as a sliver of light illuminates the dust floating from your floorboards as he walks in. “Hey,” He speaks quietly, afraid you’ll flinch at the sound of a loud sound. “wanna go out today, go for a walk with Jeff?” 

“You hate hikes with Jeff, Dave,” You laugh lightly, something no one has heard in weeks from you. 

Lowering his head, David hides his smile as he perches on the edge of your bed. “I might do, but if it means we can go outdoors it’s worth it, right?” His question lingers in the silence as you simply lie back down on the bed. “How’re you feeling?” 

Shutting your eyes, you wonder how no one else screams at that question. “Fine.” You quickly reply, too quickly. 

“I don’t believe you.” David retorts and swears silently, wishing he could’ve bitten back his tongue. 

Turning your gaze to face him, David cannot see any emotion left in your expression. There’s no pain, no disapproval or sign of you being upset by his words. “Wow, Dave,” You scoff. “are you in my head? Can you hear the numbing sound of everything going on around me as I feel like I’m locked inside a separate room? All I want to fucking do is scream but I’ve got nothing left to give.” You ramble, wishing tears could rise in your eyes but they’re gone, you’ve drained them all. 

David remains still, hesitant to move closer and invade your personal bubble. “Y/n,” David starts, but you stand up and pull the sleeves of your hoodie to cover your hands.

“Can you please leave, Dave?” You ask him quietly, looking down at the ground instead of the regret in his eyes. “I just want to be on my own for a bit.” 

Nodding, David walks out of the room without saying another word, too afraid to make things worse if he threatens to say something else. 

You stand by the window, feeling the warmth through the shutters warm sections of your skin as you sigh to yourself.

Natalie hovers by the doorway, leaning against it as you keep your back turned. “I know what you’re going to say, Nat.” You speak up, sensing her presence. “And I just don’t know what to do or tell him any more,” Everything is drowning in defeat for you. “I feel so fucking lost, Natalie.” The words tremble out of your lips as she runs over and holds you tightly, refusing to let you go. “I’m waking up every single day and just thinking that I have to do this, do this again for the rest of my life.” You cry but no tears fall. 

“It’ll get easier, Y/n.” Natalie speaks truthfully, tired of people giving false hope. “You know it will, and deep down you believe it’ll get easier with each day.” 

Shaking your head rapidly in her arms, you crawl away and collapse on the ground. Your body moves to curl up in a ball beside the window, hiding away. “It won’t!” You yell, seeing the fear rise in Natalie’s eyes as she jumps. “It’s never going to fucking end.” You spit the words out. “I’m so tired, I’m so fucking tired.” You sob, burying your head into your hands as she kneels in front of you. 

Feeling someone's presence behind her, Natalie turns to see David with glossy eyes at the door. 

“Let’s just get some fresh air.” Natalie tells you calmly, taking your hands as you weakly comply. 

Nearing the door, David helps you as well. You lean into him instinctively, sniffing as the three of you walk into your back garden. 

You squint your eyes at the bright sunlight illuminating the dried out grass of your lawn. Three chairs lie half folded by the railings as an abandoned pool is covered in floating leaves and debris. 

David wraps his arm around your waist as you all sit down on the tiles by the door, just taking in the warmth and fresh air. Not once does his hand slip or let you go as you lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder. 

“It’ll get easier, baby.” David mutters, turning to kiss the top of your forehead. “We just have to give it time.” 

[what-is-your-plan-today]

CSI: Rogers and Barnes- The Serious Cereal Serial Killer

Episode 5- Defrosting

Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Episode Summary: So nothing like the possibly one time love of your life being hurt to make you realise that actually, you might just care a little bit… Episode Warnings: Bad Language words.

Episode Pairings:  Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark (The Ice Queen is thawing…)

Song for Episode:  For What It’s Worth by Liam Gallagher

A/N: This entire series contains dark humour (CSI + Brooklyn 99=CSI Steeb) Avengers and Stark Spangled Banner Easter Eggs and jokes. You don’t need to have read the SSB series to understand or enjoy this, but we’ve used the Universe to spin this off from so somethings might puzzle a few of you if you ain’t, but feel free to ask.

Also, our knowledge of American Policing and Brooklyn is limited, so bear with us if we slip up, but at the end of the day this is a fiction so we’ll claim any mistakes as creative license!!

As always we live for re-blogs and comments  

CSI Rogers and Barnes Master List 

Main Masterlist 

“I’m so sorry for your loss…” Bucky bowed his head as he stood next to Steve’s mom.

She dropped her eyes to the floor taking a deep breath.

“I’m alive, jerk.” Steve shot back from where he lay on the hospital bed.

“I was talking about the car, punk.” Bucky shrugged “Or the beard. Man you look like 12 years old without it.” “Not like I had a choice.” Steve grimaced pointing to the line of stitches in the corner of his mouth “And is my car really totalled?” Bucky grimaced and nodded “Fraid it looks that way.” “Shit.”

“Language.” Sarah looked at her son. “Steve, it’s just a heap of metal…”

“No, no bad move, he loved that metal.” Bucky shook his head.

“He should be grateful he is getting away wit cuts and bruising.” Sarah narrowed her eyes “Could have been a hell of a lot worse, he’s been in an out of consciousness for almost 5 hours! I mean what was that idiot doing running the light?”

“It happens Ma.” Steve said gently “He’ll get dealt with.” He rubbed his shoulder which felt a little stiff and then looked up as the Doctor that had been looking after him returned.

“Ok Mr Rogers…your recent scan results show there’s nothing going on with your brain…” Bucky sniggered and Sarah slapped him around the back of the head. “Owww.” he said, reaching up to rub at his hair.

“So if you have someone at home with you, I’m happy you can be discharged.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him for the rest of the evening” Bucky nodded. The Doctor smiled and set about sorting out the forms and in a little while they were making their way, albeit slowly, out of the hospital.

Steve was grateful to his ma and Bucky for getting him home. Once his mother had stopped fussing as much as she could do she finally left with the promise of returning in a few hours and Steve went straight to his bed after popping a few painkillers. He was lucky, it was bruising more than anything, and a few stitches to his face where the glass from the car windows had cut him but all in all nothing too drastic.

He couldn’t help but think back to the last time he’d been injured enough to land him in hospital. They’d been on a drugs bust down town and had gotten separated, and thanks to a catastrophic coms failure he had been ambushed by 6 of the gang at once. He’d managed to get the upper hand at one point until someone had crashed him straight round the back of the head with a piece of wood. Thankfully, it hadn’t been too serious and Katie, Natasha and Clint had stormed in a few seconds later and it was all locked down. Katie had been by his side in the hospital for hours until Peggy had turned up and dismissed her, rather curtly actually. Katie had bitten her tongue and simply left with no fuss, and he and Peggy had ended up having a huge argument.

“I’m your girlfriend, Steven, not her.” Peggy crossed her arms and glared at him as she sat in the chair. “It’s ridiculous how much she hangs around you.” “Peggy, for god’s sake.” he groaned “She came in the ambulance with me!”

“Why not Clint, or Natasha?”

“Oh, you know what, I don’t want to do this now. My head hurts and, well, frankly I’m sick of having the same discussion. She’s my best friend.” “She wants to be more than your friend Steve.” Peggy sighed “Ever since her and Ward split she’s been hanging around like a bad smell.” “She needs support.” Steve shook his head

“She has a brother and god knows how many friends.” Peggy shook her head “But you were the one she called to help her kick Grant out, you changed all her locks…”

“Peg, she’s hurting, and I’m not gonna turn my back on her. She wouldn’t do it to me.” “Bet she can’t wait to get me out of the way.” Peggy sniffed, pursing her lips. “Soon as I’m off to London you mark my words…” “Oh stop being ridiculous.” Steve closed his eyes “Katie wouldn’t do that. And I wouldn’t do it to you either, you know that.” Oh the irony. In the end it had been Peggy that had done it to him. She’d departed to London for the 6 month placement, and they’d both agreed to stay together, what was 6 months after all when you wanted to spend the rest of your life with someone and they wanted to spend the rest of theirs with you?  

Or you thought they did. Less than a month later he had received the message, telling him that it wasn’t working, that she thought he was a burden and a tie to a life she wasn’t sure she wanted anymore. He’d tried calling, even debated getting a flight over to speak to her face to face but she’d point blank refused to even consider it, telling him if he turned up she wouldn’t see him.

So it had ended and he and Katie had navigated their heartbreak together. In bars, taking weekend trips upstate, hiking…anything that took their mind off things. And he dare say now, in hindsight, that it had brought them even closer. He understood now that he and Peggy were never going to make it. They were too different. Peggy was practical, realistic, stoic in every area of her life whereas Steve, whilst all those things when he needed to be, also had a softer side, showed his emotions, wore his heart on his sleeve.

Like Katie.

Breaking up with Peggy at the time had killed Steve, but now he realised that it was for the best. But he also knew that it had really tainted his views of relationships in general, even almost a year or so down the line. And the only person he had been close to since he had pushed away.

With a groan he lay back on his pillow and closed his eyes, thankfully the codeine did its job and he slipped into a dreamless, painless sleep.

****

“Guys…” Bucky said loudly over the chatter in the briefing room. Everyone turned their attention to the front and he noticed a few puzzled glances. It wasn’t unusual for a Sergeant to take the mid-morning briefing in any other Precinct, but it was unusual in the 101. Steve liked to see his troops in the morning, he felt it was only fair. “Captain Rogers won’t be in today, and probably not for a little while. He was involved in a car accident last night and…” “An accident?” Wanda spluttered out. “Is he ok?”

“He’s fine. The car that hit his wasn’t travelling that fast it just unfortunately hit the driver’s side. They checked him over at the hospital and decided he was good to go home late last night, or earlier this morning even. Few cuts and bruises, no doubt some injured pride and his car most certainly isn’t ok but…he’s good, just needs to rest.” He couldn’t help but glance at Katie who was looking down at the table as she bit at her thumbnail. Her brow was furrowed and he could see in her face she was concerned but trying not to show it. Bucky didn’t say anything, simply carved up the duties. Whilst the murder investigation was taking most of the resource, there were still the other crimes to cope with and as such he ended up sending Clintasha to go and speak to the victim of a mugging. But for him and Stark, the morning was slow, real slow. She had already called through to Peralta and arranged for them both to head over there the next morning once he had been able to pull the files from the archive but until they didn’t have much else to go on.

“I just hope looking at the old case throws something up.” Katie said, looking at him “Because if not, we’re dead in the water. No leads, nothing…”

“Let’s worry about that tomorrow.” Bucky said. “Look, why don’t you finish for the day? There’s really nothing we can do now.”

“I just got a few bits to tidy up and then I might do, thanks.” she looked back at her screen.

Bucky kept one eye on her as he continued clearing the admin from his inbox, and he could see that she was grappling with something.

“Have you errr…spoken to Captain Rogers?” she asked a few minutes later. Smiling to himself, Bucky looked up.

“Careful, Stark!” Bucky smiled “You almost sound like you care.”

She scowled, “I’m not a completely heartless bitch.”

“I never said you were…”

“Just because I hate him doesn’t mean I want him hurt…”

At that, Bucky almost fist pumped the air when he realised that actually this could work in Steve’s favour somewhat.

“You don’t hate him.” he said, matter of factly, looking at Katie. “You hate what he did, but you don’t hate him. And that’s what you find so hard to take about this entire situation.”

She paused, open mouthed for a moment, before she snapped her jaw shut and folded her arms, glaring at him. “What are you my therapist now?”

“No, just someone who the pair of you are starting to really piss off…” he sighed and ran a hand dramatically through his hair “Did you ever stop to consider exactly why Steve did what he did?” “Because he’s an ass hole.” Katie said, “He got what he wanted and then…”

“You and I both know that’s bullshit doll face.” Bucky said “He’s never been one for one night stands. Had a few at Uni but, well, frankly he always told me he hated it, but that’s not the point…the point is he cared about you…”

“Funny way of showing it…” “…and he did what he did because he thought, in his stupid pea brain, that it was for the best.” “The best?” Katie snorted “he thought bailing on me, and ghosting me was for the best?” “If you two had made a go of things, one of you would have had to move, and it would most likely have been you because Captain vacancies are harder to find…” “Yeah, I kinda figured that we’d have to do something about the chain of command, but, for fucks sake, I was contemplating going to DC…we could have sorted this, made it work!”

“I get it, I do…but this is Steve we’re talking about!” Bucky chuckled with affection, he was a dumbass but he was still his best friend. “The guy is an idiot when it comes to women and very rarely lets his heart rule his head…but with you he did. And that shows me just how much you mean to him.”

Katie looked down at her hands, her fingers were twisting around one another. After a little while she looked up and shook her head “That doesn’t make what he did ok.” “No, and I’m not trying to make excuses for him.” Bucky said gently “Just trying to give you the explanation you’re not allowing him to give to you himself.”

Katie turned away from him and wiped at her eyes. Bucky was tactful enough to look away whilst she composed herself.

“If you wanna go and check in on him I know he’d appreciate it.” he said, sowing the seeds of the idea in her mind. “Just think about it.”

She shrugged, but there was a definite softer expression on her face as she turned back to her computer.

About half an hour later Bucky came back from the bathroom to find her gone. Tacked to his monitor was a post-it note.

“Thought about it…thanks Buck.” “Don’t blow it Punk…” he mumbled to himself as he re-read the note before scrunching it up and throwing it in the bin, a huge smile playing on his face as he laced his fingers behind his head, swinging his feet up onto his desk.

“What you looking so smug about?” Natasha asked and he looked over to see he was being watched by her and Clint.

“Well…” he said, leaning back in his chair “Seems that the stupid Punk getting t-boned made Katie realise that she actually still cares about him. So Phase 1 of ‘Operation Cap’n Crunch and Special K” is officially underway. Time to prepare Phase 2 Romanoff.”

“Wait, Phase 1 was getting someone to T-bone him?” Natasha looked at Bucky, her mouth open.

“What?” Bucky frowned as Barton looked at him.

“That’s just sick man…” Clint pointed at him before he frowned and looked at Nat “hang on, what plan?” “Oh after I spoke to her yesterday, I talked to Serge and we decided that we’re fed up of the pair of them moping around and pretend hating each other, when they’re both blatantly still head over heels despite their protestations to the contrary.” Nat shrugged “So we came up with a 3 step plan, of which the first phase, I thought, was simply making them talk…”

“Yeah, and I was gonna lock them in a cupboard or his office until they agreed to do so but hey, I’m all for grabbing the moment, right? This worked a treat” Bucky said, grinning at them both.

“So what’s Phase 2?” Clint asked. Natasha arched an eyebrow and grinned at him.

“Wait and see Barton, wait and see.”

Clint blinked, looked at Natasha who now had a devilish grin spreading across her face an then back to Bucky who was smirking into his coffee cup.

“Man I love you guys!” Clint said with a small laugh as he leaned back in his chair.  

***** “Ma for the last time stop fussing…” Steve looked at his mom as she set a mug of coffee down on the table in front of him.

“I’m your mother, Steven…” she looked at him. “It’s my job to fuss. Now, what do you fancy for dinner?” He was just about to tell her he was capable of dialling a pizza when he heard the key in the lock and glanced at his watch, frowning. It was early for Bucky to be home.

“Buck?” he questioned. But the reply wasn’t what he was expecting, or who he was expecting for that matter.

“No, it’s errr, me.”

Steve looked at his mother whose face had lit up at the sound of Katie’s voice and he pushed himself up of the sofa, hissing a the bite of pain in his side and turned to see her stepping nervously into the living room.

“How did…” he asked and she looked at him, sheepishly, holding up her keys.

“Never did give it you back.” she said softly. He watched as her eyes travelled over the bruising and cuts on his face and her brow furrowed somewhat as she swallowed thickly and continued “Thought you might have changed the locks, you know like you did for me when I threw Grant out.” “Not really the same thing.” he said with a soft smile. “But I’m surprised you kept it.” “It was on my keyring.” she said, shrugging “I kinda forgot about it, should have mailed it to you or something…” Steve could tell that wasn’t the truth. There’s no way she would have forgotten about it, but he didn’t pick her up on her white lie. The fact she had kept it made him slightly hopeful she wasn’t quite as ready to give up on him as she made out.

“Hi Sarah…” she said in a small voice, her gaze turning to his ma.

“Oh my little star…” Sarah hurried over to give her a warm hug before she held her at arms length “Let me look at you…I love the hair!” “It’s grown a little.” Katie smiled, running her hand through her hair, the longer side was now an inch or so below her chin.

“How have you been?” Sarah pressed.

“Oh, you know…” she shrugged “Ok.”

Sarah smiled at her and then over at Steve before she nodded. “Well I was just about to head out to the store to pick something up for tonight.” “Ma, I told you…” “And I told you to shut up.” She shot him a look “Does carbonara suit?”

Steve sighed “Yeah, that’s great…” “Ok, so, I’ll be back in a little while…” she said, rushing for her purse.

“Hang on I’ll get my wallet…” Steve made to move and she shook her head

“I don’t want or need your money.” she said sternly. Again he rolled his eyes and noticed a smile on Katie’s face.

His ma made to hug her again “If you’re not here when I get back, you best stop by some time…oh, did he give you your pie the other night?”

“He did and it was amazing as always!” Katie smiled, giving her another hug “And I will, I promise.” With that his mom left them alone, and once the door was shut Katie turned back to him and looked him up and down as she raised an eyebrow “You look like you got in a fight with a bus.” “Not quite, it was a chevvy Blazer.” he said, chuckling slightly at her joke.

“How are you feeling?” “I’m ok, just a bit sore. Be fine in a few days.” She nodded “Ok, well, that’s all I wanted to check…when Bucky said you’d been hurt I just…” she trailed off, taking a deep breath before she sighed, “God why is this so awkward?”

Steve gave her a soft smile “Because I fucked it up?” She gave a soft huff of a laugh.

“Do you want a drink?” he offered “Ma just made a fresh pot of coffee so…” “I err, I don’t…” she looked at her watch, biting her lip. Steve could tell she was searching for a reason to say no so he decided to put her out of her misery.

“It’s fine, honestly.” he said, “You don’t have to make excuses not to stay. I appreciate you popping in.” She licked her lips and looked at him, her green eyes searching his before she smiled softly “Coffee’s great, you stay where you are. I’ll get it.”

“Everything’s in the same place…” he said softly and she nodded. But she didn’t move straight away. Instead he noticed her eyes flickering to the space by the TV where the photo of the two of them used to be.

“It’s in the bedroom.” he said. She looked at him, blushing slightly that she’d been caught but didn’t try and deny what she’d been thinking.

“I’m not gonna lie, my copy is in a drawer.” she replied quietly “I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away but…” She swallowed and headed into the kitchen. He slowly sat back down and he heard her clinking about before she emerged with a mug. She placed it on the coffee table, removing her keys and phone from her pocket before she tossed those just to the left of her mug and took a seat on the sofa, picking up her drink and cradling it in both hands, the way she always did when she was seeking comfort.

“Has the station fallen to pieces yet?” Steve asked and she snorted.

“Not quite.” she smiled “To be honest it’s a bit slow. Oh, erm, I’m going to see Peralta tomorrow with Bucky, dig through the files on the old rape case. I know it’s just a hunch but something feels off.” “Well your instincts have never failed you before.” Steve smiled gently.

She smiled and shrugged “Who knows?” “Stop it.” Steve said.

“Stop what?” She frowned

“Doubting yourself.”

“I’m not.” “Yes you are I can tell. You always do it.” “No I don’t.” Steve chuckled and then winced at the pain in his side “Yes you do. And you’ve no reason to. You’re a damned good detective.”

She took a sip from her drink and looked down before she opened her mouth as if to say something but then closed it. She took a deep breath and swallowed, her eyes remaining on the floor.

“Use your words Doll.” he said, softly.

“I don’t want another argument.” she said quietly. “It doesn’t matter…” “Katie.”  he urged, his voice almost stern.

“I just… “ she licked her lips “I was just thinking that, well, I can’t remember the last time we did this, you know, drank coffee in your lounge.” “I can tell you exactly when it was.” he said “It was the morning of the Christmas party. About 12 hours before I sent everything sideways.”

She looked at him, before she looked away and Steve felt a pang in his chest that was totally unrelated to his accident. He yearned for her, longed for the way things used to be before he’d fucked it all up.

“I never thought you would be the man that I cried myself to sleep over.” she said so quietly he almost missed it.

As she placed the mug back on the coffee table Steve took a shaky breath “It wasn’t easy for me either you know?” he looked at her, blinking back his own tears “I hurt too.” “Yes but you did it to yourself Steve!” she said, running her hands over her face

“You think I don’t know that?” he said, his voice a little louder “If I could change it, go back and do it differently I would but I can’t…”

“Bucky told me why you did it, that it was your stupid idea of being noble.” she cut him off, her voice soft as she shook her head “Frankly I’ve never heard anything as ridiculous in my life…all that stuff and panic about getting involved in someone in your chain of command…Steve, I had had feelings for you for a long time before that, do you think for one second that I never considered what it would mean? Fuck, I’d just told you I was considering the DC move, I’d have been well out of your chain then!”

“I should have talked to you, I get that…I do” he pressed “I was an idiot and I panicked and then I didn’t want anything to stop you moving or getting in your way and tying you back here..”

“You thought I’d do a Peggy?” she looked at him, frowning, as if she was understanding something for the first time, which in fairness she probably was. “That I’d move and things would end”

He didn’t reply, he knew that one look in his eyes would be enough to tell her. She always knew.

“Steve, what Peggy did was cruel. The way she left and then ended it, calling you a burden and a tie she didn’t need…I’d never have done that.”

“I know.” he said softly “I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you weren’t.” She shook her head before she spoke again, her voice cracking slightly. “You know what the worst thing about all this is?”

One look at her was enough to tell him she was struggling to keep herself controlled, he could see from the way her chest was heaving and she was stuttering for words.

“I can’t hate you.” she shrugged “No matter how much I try, and believe me I tried, I just can’t. I wanted so hard not to care when Bucky told me you’d been hurt, but all I could think about was making sure you were ok.”

She stopped for a moment and took a deep breath as her tears began to fall. She looked up and he saw her before him, as utterly broken as he had ever seen her. Her face crumpled and she stuttered to him. “I miss you. I miss my best friend.” With that he felt a tear slide out of his own eye and he moved from his chair onto the sofa besides her, pulling her to him, ignoring the aches and pains in his battered body. She didn’t shy away, instead she pressed her face into his chest, her arms linking round his waist at the back as his hands gently slid up and down her back, soothing her as he had done so many times before.

“I’m sorry.” he managed to stutter “I really am…I never wanted to hurt you sweetheart, I swear…”

He pulled her tighter to him and then instantly winced as the pain in his ribs. She pulled back straight away and looked at him.

“Steve…”

He felt a little light headed then, and it must have shown as she frowned a little.

“Hey, you look really pale.” she said, concern etched across her pretty face “Don’t pass out on me…” “I’m fine, honestly…” he protested. “When was the last time you ate?”

“I errr…” he shrugged, scrunching his eyes shut. “Yesterday, some point. Mac and Cheese.” “You made Mac and Cheese?” she said as a twitch in the corner of her mouth grew into a small smile. “Sorta, well, opened the box…”

“Mac and cheese, from a box.” the smile went and she looked horrified “Steven that is disgusting. I showed you like a million times how to make it properly.” “Yeah well it never comes out as well as yours so…” he blinked again and took a deep breath. No, he definitely felt dizzy.

“You need to lie down.” she said, standing up.

“I’m fine…” he protested, but she wasn’t fooled. She never was fooled by his bullshit. “Stop being a stubborn asshole and do as you’re told.” she said sternly as she grabbed a throw cushion and positioned it against the arm of the sofa. “Go on.” she patted it gently and he slowly moved himself backwards, laying his head where she told him.

“Just need to close my eyes for a moment…” he muttered, and he did.

************

Steve blinked and stirred a bit. He was tired and his ribcage ached. He opened one of his eyes and saw Katie sitting on the armchair beside the couch, her shoes discarded and her legs tucked underneath her as she was reading something on her phone. A warm feeling filled his chest and he closed his eye and smiled at the thought that she was still there, looking after him, keeping him company even though he was sure she’d rather be anywhere else. She had said earlier she had missed him, she had missed her best friend. If only they could go back to the way they were. He was snapped from his thoughts by the sound of keys in the door before it opened, shut and his mother’s shoes tapped down the hallway.

“Shhhh” he heard and opened one eye again, ever so slightly, to see Katie moving her right index finger to her lips and pointing her head at him, where he lay on the couch holding onto a yellow cushion for dear life.

“Is he asleep?” Sarah asked in a hushed voice.

“Apparently” Katie answered, and he didn’t miss the fond look she shot his way. “He was feeling dizzy and I forced him to lie down and rest. I didn’t want to leave him alone so I thought I’d wait for you or Bucky to come back.” she added as if trying to excuse herself for being there.

“Good. Thanks for looking after him.” the old woman smiled at her fondly. And then Steve decided he should make them aware he was awake.

“I wasn’t dizzy.” Steve suddenly said with a hoarse voice.  He rubbed his eyes and tried to sit up so fast all his body was in pain and he grimaced again.

“Steven!” Sarah scolded him. “Be careful, love. Have you taken your painkillers?”

“Yes ma.” he answered. “Took them before you left.”

She nodded and smiled at her son and then turned to Katie “And you, my dear, are having Carbonara with us this evening?”

"Sarah, I don’t want….” Katie started but Sarah cut her off.

“I wasn’t asking Star.” she said “It’s the least I can do after you looked after this mad driver I have for a son. Besides, you’re helping me fix it, we have a lot to catch up on.”

“Wait Ma! I’ll help you with those” Steve said as his mother turned to head for the kitchen, taking a shopping bag in each hand.

“No. Stay put. I’m perfectly able to do it myself, Stevie. You rest until dinner’s ready.” she refused her son’s offer.    

Katie stood up and sighed. “I’ll better go help her.” she said before smiling at him and ruffling the hair on the top of his head softly, and God that was a balm to his soul. Such a familiar action she had done so many times before, but yet never had it felt so significant as it did then. The ghost of a grin threatened to spread on his face at her show of affection but it was quickly turned into a grimace as she tugged on the longer locks at the top of his head.

“Ouch!” he exclaimed and Katie, who was heading for the kitchen turned to look at him and grinned.

“Serves you well for letting them shave you.”      

“I was kind of unconscious so I didn’t have much of a choice” he looked at her “And besides, they had to stitch my lip.” he shrugged innocently.

“Whatever.” she said over her shoulder walking towards the kitchen.

Steve leant against the back of the sofa, closed his eyes and let out a contented sigh. Was it him or was the ice queen beginning to thaw?

He must have dozed off again, but that stupid grin was clearly on his face as he was jerked back to the here and now by another voice about 15 minutes later.

“Are you high?” he heard Bucky ask him. Steve opened his eyes to see a smug smile on his friend’s face who was examining the packet of painkillers the doctors had prescribed him.    

“Jerk.”

“I love you too, honey.” Bucky grinned at him and frowned when he heard the two female laughs coming from the kitchen.

“Is that…?” Bucky asked squinting his eyes at Steve and he nodded.

“She came by this afternoon. Ma invited her for dinner.” he said.

“Well, this is getting interesting.” Bucky smirked, tossing the packet of painkillers down onto the table “Very interesting indeed.”

Steve didn’t miss the cunning smile on his friend’s face as he turned and headed for the kitchen.

“Buck.” Steve warned him, but Bucky was already gone. He came back a few minutes later drinking a beer and sat sprawled on the armchair beside the couch and Steve cast a longing look at the bottle.

“Don’t even think of it.” he said mocking Steve’s captain voice “You’re not allowed to drink a single drop of alcohol on those things.”

Steve groaned took the TV remote and started channel-hopping until he found a film that caught his attention.

“Why does Superman wear a cape? I don’t get it. What’s with making superheroes look like idiots with those spangly tight outfits?” Bucky began to rant but Steve ignored him.

Bucky side eyed him for a moment, before he smirked to himself. “Sooo. I guess you and your girl are on better terms now, seeing as she still hasn’t torn your head off.”

“She’s not…”

“Your girl. Hmmm, yet you wanted to punch me in the face for buying her lunch.” Bucky finished for him. “You’re smiling, just saying pal.” he added pointing at him with his beer bottle before turning to the TV screen again. But as he gave Steve another side glance, he could see the blonde was smiling again.

Twenty minutes later Katie emerged from the kitchen cleaning her hands with a tea towel.

“Dinner will be ready in five, so move your asses and help me lay the table.” she said standing in front of the TV screen, hands on the buckle of her belt.

“Yes, Mrs. Captain.” Bucky sat up mocking a salute.

Kate shot him a glare and both turned to watch as Steve was struggling to stand up from the couch with a pained expression to no avail.

“Here, hold on to us.” Bucky offered reaching one of his arms out for Steve to hold at the same time Katie approached the coach and offered hers. But they couldn’t lift his weight.

“Come on, man. Are you on our team?” Bucky asked between gritted teeth.

“Just represent. Pull!” Steve bit back.  And with that they were able to lift the Captain’s weight and haul him upright.

“Are you ok? Are you still dizzy?” Katie asked Steve while she rubbed his arm.

“I’m fine, doll. Thanks.”

Bucky flinched waiting for Katie’s outburst at the pet name, but when nothing came he just raised an eyebrow at the pair but they were too busy looking at one another to notice him. He just smiled, shaking his head. He had to remember to text Romanoff later.

“Ok, pal. Lean on me, I’ll walk you to the dining room.” Bucky said ducking under Steve’s armpit and putting his friend arm over his shoulder while holding his waist with his free hand. “We are your sidekicks after all.”

“Yeah, just like Mulder and Scully you two.” Steve scoffed.

“Thought it was Cagney and Lacey?” Katie, who was walking ahead of them, turned to quip.

Soon after the table was ready and Sarah had finished fixing a salad to go with the Carbonara. She passed the bowl to Katie who placed it at the centre of the table and all four sat to enjoy the food. But as Bucky was about to take a breadstick Sarah slapped his hand.

“What’s with people slapping my hands?” Bucky protested

“Have you washed your hands, young man?” Sarah asked.  "God only knows where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing.”

“Or who.” Katie muttered under his breath and shared a smile with Steve who was sitting opposite her. He grinned back.

“Yes, I did ma'am.” Bucky answered, taking the breadstick from the bread basket and biting it unceremoniously.

“Are you going to tell us where you’ve been all day?” Steve asked looking at him while he helped himself to some salad.

“Playing Captain Dickhead.” he quipped.

Sarah, who had just stood up to go find a pitcher of water, smacked him on the back of his head.

“Language!” the old lady said and Katie couldn’t help but snigger.

“Ouch!” Bucky dropped the fork on the plate and rubbed the back of his head as he looked at Steve “Doing your job, buddy. Which I must say I did beautifully.” he added with a smug smile.

“Well, he didn’t burn the station down.” Katie shrugged.

“Chasing the bad guys. Looking after your herd.” Bucky continued.

“We’re not goats.” Katie scoffed.

“That is debatable, honey.” Bucky said pointing at her with his fork and Steve smiled at the bickering between the two. “And I met a friend later.” he added casually.

“Oh, anyone nice?” Sarah asked excitedly as she returned with the water.

“Don’t encourage him Ma.” Steve shook his head.

“You could say that.” he looked at Sarah smiling before adding “Name’s Sammy, we’re not a thing yet.”

Steve saw Katie stop eating and try to catch Bucky’s eye but he was avoiding her purposefully. After a second or two she gave in and stood up.

“I’ll fetch the Carbonara, pass me your plates.” she said holding out her hand at Bucky and looking at him intently. He shot her another passive look, but there was a faint tinge of red in his cheeks and as Steve watched Katie smirked, knowingly, before she collected the other plates.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Sarah said to Katie as she headed to the kitchen. “And James, make sure you treat your dame right.” he said looking at him before raising an eyebrow at her son.

“Will do.” Bucky said looking at the woman at the same time he reached for his water glass.

“You’re not a thing? Yet?” Steve asked Bucky leaning an arm on the back of the chair to look at him directly.

“Nope.” he replied, not wanting to go into many details.

“But you could be?”

Bucky shrugged.

“What are you waiting for?” Katie asked placing a pasta plate in front of Sarah.

“Just leave him alone.” Sarah said patting Katie’s hand. Katie shrugged and dropped another plate in front of Bucky before returning for her and Steve’s.

“Thifif delishos” Bucky grunted with his mouth full of food.

“Thank you, I guess. Did you mean the food was delicious?” Sarah laughed and Bucky nodded.

“It is good, thanks.” Steve said, nodding appreciatively.

“It should be after feeding on mac and cheese from a box. Did you know that?” Katie asked Sarah, who nodded resigned and shook her head.

“What’s wrong with box mac and cheese?” Bucky looked up.

“What’s wrong with it? It’s disgusting!” Katie said, affronted.

“Katie cooks the best Mac and cheese you’d ever taste.” Steve told Bucky before he shot her a wink as he refilled her glass with water.

“Thanks, Stevie.” she smiled back softly.

Bucky couldn’t help but grin. “STEVIE?”  he mouthed to Sarah who nodded at him, smiling knowingly.

For Steve it was like he had been taken back to before everything went wrong. Sitting with his Mom, Katie, eating dinner…with the addition of Bucky this time. It was nice. The 4 of them ate, chatting, there was no arguing, no frosty moments. Ok, it wasn’t as easy as it had been once upon a time but still, this was progress. And he wasn’t taking it for granted.

Eventually his mother announced it was late and that she should be going. Much to Steve’s disappointment, Katie checked her watch and nodded in agreement.

“I’ll walk down with you Sarah.” Katie said “Tony’s already bitching about me treating his place like a hotel. If I’m much later home he’ll probably threaten to Ground me or something…”

Bucky and Steve both sniggered as Sarah looked at Katie.

“If he’s annoying you that much you can always come stay with me love.” she said and Katie grinned.

“You’d feed me that much apple pie and banana bread I’d be the size of a house.” “Well you do look like you need feeding up….have you been eating properly in DC?” “Ma stop it.” Steve sighed as Katie laughed.

“I’m promise you I eat as much now as I always have.” she assured the woman as they both stood up. “As you’ve just seen. I look like I’m having a food baby.”

Bucky and Steve both rose along with them, Bucky hugging Katie whilst Steve gave his mom a squeeze.

“Don’t blow this…” she hissed into his ear.

“I’ll try not to.” he replied gently.

She stepped back and Steve turned to Katie. Bucky and Sarah were tactful enough to move away to the door, talking loudly to give them some space.

“Think the polar ice caps are melting…” Bucky mumbled to Sarah who smiled as she watched Katie slip her arms round Steve’s waist.

“None so blind as those who will not see.” Sarah mused back.

“Aint that the truth…” Bucky said.

As her arms connected at the base of his back, the familiar fit of her body against his made Steve close his eyes as he gently hugged her back, dropping an affectionate kiss to the crown of her head as he always had done.

“Thank you.” he said softly, “for coming round and…” “It’s ok.” she said, she stepped back and licked her lips and took a deep breath “Look, Steve, I can’t promise everything can go back to like it was before but…maybe we can move forward right?”

“Forward’s good for me doll.” he assured her.

She smiled and turned towards the door. “See you tomorrow Bucky.” “Yeah later Doll Face…” he said to her retreating back.

The two men watched as she paused momentarily, took a deep breath before she held up her right hand and flipped him off over her shoulder, without so much as a look back.

Bucky let out a bark of a laugh and Steve chuckled as the door shut.

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