#gotta take some deep ass breaths otherwise i WILL be going off in the office

[kagxme]

bro aint nothing set me off more than someone trynna blame me for something when they in the wrong.

[ezrasarm]

Before You Go

Pairing: Poe Dameron x gn!reader

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: After a mission goes sideways you and Poe find yourselves stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Warnings: Depictions of blood and wounds, medical inaccuracies I’m sure, lil’ bit of angst, fluff, one (1) smooch, I think it’s gender neutral... I think (let me know if I’ve missed something though!)

A/n: At long last this is my first Poe fic and I have to say it’s been incredibly fun to write! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it! Please let me know what you think, I’m new to writing his character and will take all the feedback I can get! Also a massive thank you to @andriecastana AKA @im-poe-dameron for beta reading!

[Masterlist]

“Skipper- Skipper, c’mon we don’t have time for this.”

“How- what are you doing here-” You mumbled as you came to. The words didn’t hold much force with the way your loss of consciousness still hung like a heavy fog over your head, or perhaps that was the smoke spewing from the engines which had been shot down to throw you into a spin. All sensations seemed far too overwhelming but the more awareness you managed to gain, the more urgency you began to realize filled Poe’s voice as he jostled your shoulders and moved to chuck your helmet off and unstrap you from the cockpit.

“Saving your ass, now c’mon!” He exclaimed, practically dragging you out of the beached and smouldering ship. “Up we get, down we go.” He said as though you were a child, probably because in your daze that’s all you seemed to have the mental capacity of. You’d hardly managed to gain your balance before a blaster shot tore past your shoulder and in a split second Poe had taken a vice grip on your wrist and your feet had no choice but to stumble after him as he tugged you through the thicket of deep green undergrowth until you couldn’t help but match his sprint.

The most you were capable of was keeping your eyes ahead of you so as not to run face-first into a tree. Your heart was racing at the hail of blaster bolts raining down around you and in the one moment you allowed yourself to look over your shoulder to see what exactly it was you were running from you felt a sharp pain rip through your side.

“Stick with me, Skipper,” Poe called over his shoulder, a tight squeeze to your hand to urge you on as he felt your pace falter behind him. And so you did. You ran with him until all you knew was the motion of putting one foot in front of the other. Until you could hardly breathe. Until the searing pain in your side became so unbearable you could feel your legs giving way to jello beneath you.

“Poe,” You gasped out, “Poe, slow down,” You choked but your plea fell on deaf ears.

“Just a little further! I think we’ve almost lost them!” He threw back at you with that same desperate optimism that always made people follow him. That made him the brilliant, impulsive, stubborn, leader he was. But this time, no matter how much you wanted to do good by him, you couldn’t.

You would have told him so but the unmistakable whir of a speeder cutting through the trees hit your ear and you knew there was no chance of either you or him out running that. So you made a quick decision, the type of thing that got you into this mess in the first place, and with the last remaining ounce of energy in your body, you threw yourself at him and used all the force you could muster to tackle him over the ledge you had been running along side and to the ground, concealed only by the projection of earth above you and the thick brush of greenery around you.

The landing was by no means graceful. You had to choke back the wail of pain when he fell on top of you. His hand which you supposed had come to brace you, pressed into the wound just below your rib cage and instead of shoving him off of you as every nerve in your body was screaming at you to do, you locked your legs around him and planted your palm over his mouth.

Your entire body tensed, back and shoulders ridged and neck strained as you listened for the speeder which had been tailing you, it’s hum growing louder and louder until it was practically on top of you, and then it stopped. It couldn’t have been two meters away from you when the trooper hopped off of it. You winced at the sound of boots crunching on the dead and dry leaves over your heads, unconsciously holding Poe a little tighter to you as you struggled to hold your breath, and just when you thought there was no way you were making it out of this alive, that there was no way the mangle of plants you had rolled yourself behind could conceal the neon orange of your flight suits, a staticky voice killed the silence–

“I’ve lost them.”

“What do you mean ‘you’ve lost them’?” Another voice emerged from the comms on the trooper.

“I mean they’re not here.” The stormtrooper spoke, throwing a leg over the speeder before turning back in the direction from which he came.

It was only when the speeder had made its way out of earshot that you let your head fall back to the ground with a long-awaited hiss of the breath you had been holding in. Your voice caught in your throat in a silent sob when Poe shifted his weight above you and it was only now, as you shoved him off of you with shaking hands, that he began to clue into the way you had stumbled behind him as you ran, the desperation in your voice when you’d told him to slow down, the reason you, someone he could rely on to follow him through anything, had just about refused to. The warm, damp sensation on his palm made sense now when he looked down at the deep crimson stain on your flight suit where it had rested.

“Shit.” He let out, looking between you and the wound on your side. “Shit, they hit you? Why didn’t you tell me?!” The panic in his voice coming out more aggravated than he had intended and making you wince.

“We were a little preoccupied!” You huffed out, gesturing in the direction you had come from as if the situation were somehow the slightest bit funny despite the pain that seemed to be intensifying with each passing moment.

“You were shot!” He exclaimed, mind racing for the next step, for a way out of this.

“It’s not that bad.” You lied, clearly not fooling anyone with the waiver to your breath. “Just gotta get my hands on a medkit and I’ll be good as new.” You say, trying your best to play this off as nothing despite the sinking feeling in your gut that it was considerably more than that. “You have a medkit right?” You ask, only allowing the reality of the situation to hit you when Poe’s face scrunched up and he smoothed a hand over his features.

“No. It’s back on the ship I crashed trying to keep you from getting yourself killed.” He groaned in frustration.

“One hell of a rescue mission, huh?” You grumble out.

“I don’t seem to recall you fairing much better. At least I got my landing gear down!” He exclaimed, “What the hell were you thinking, getting down that low?” And here it came, the ‘I’m your commanding officer, you’re supposed to listen to what I say’ card. The one play you couldn’t rebuttal to no matter how close to him you thought you were, or how much you thought you could get away with.

“I was thinking I had a clear shot to take out their fuel reserves in one go if I got close enough.”

“Yeah, a little too close, don’tcha think?” He throws back at you.

“Remind me how you got here again?” You quip, managing to render him speechless for at least a couple of seconds. A deep exhale escapes him, his head falling in resignation with a slight shake before he speaks again.

“Can you sit up?” He asks, tone flat, and it’s now that the remorse begins to ween its way back into your head.

“I think so-” You start but the hiss you let out when you attempt it proves otherwise and Poe is quick to shift around you and prop you up in his lap so he can help you shoulder the top of your flight suit down around your hips. The throbbing in your side doesn’t allow you much room to relish in the way his hands feel on your bare skin when he pushes your undershirt up so he can take a look at the angry wound on your waist but the warmth is welcome.

“What was that you said about it not being that bad?” He asks, trying to mask the panic rising in his chest at the depth of the wound.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” you try to defend yourself but he’s already brushing off the answer.

“Yeah, well I’m gonna worry anyway, aren’t I?” He says and you’re not quite sure why that makes this hurt so much more, and not just from the way he’s balled up the sleeve of your flight suit to press into the wound and try to slow some of the bleeding. A heavy silence hangs in the air as you let his words stew before attempting to speak.

“I’m sorry about what I said- for all of this.” You say quietly, “I’m glad you came for me, I’d be dead already if it weren’t for you.”

“Don’t say that-“ He tries to push the thought aside but you had hardly been conscious when he found you, you knew there was no way you would have even made it out of your ship let alone outrun those ground forces without his help.

“I should‘ve listened to you. I shouldn’t have come down here at all, I just thought…” You cut yourself off before you even have the chance to say too much, worrying your lip between your teeth as he brings a hand to cradle your head, his thumb brushing soothing patterns along your jaw line as you force your breathing into control.

“What?” He whispers and you’re not sure what it is that possesses you to finish your sentence, the gentleness to his tone or the overall circumstances but you tell him.

“...I wanted you to be proud of me, Poe,” are the shaky words that slip past your lips and to your surprise and probably his too, his face light up.

“Are you kidding me? I’m always proud of you, Skipper.” You scoff weakly at the nickname as he brushes some of the sweat dampened hair off your forehead. “I’m not kidding, I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve zoned out just watching you fly. Every twist and turn you make is so natural, so graceful, it’s like the ship is an extension of your own body and it’s mesmerizing.” He explains, a hint of wonderment to his tone that causes the butterflies in your stomach to stir before the corners of his lips drop. “It also makes it all the more tragic to watch you spin out of control.” He says and the guilt hits you like a truck all over again. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Don’t speak too soon.” You huff out, glancing down at the place where he was still holding firm pressure to your wound, and it’s clear the humor to the comment is lost on him.

“Hey, we’re not going there!” He retorts, not sure if it's more of a comfort for you or for him at this point. “The resistance knows where we are. They’re gonna come for us.” He assures you and you see that same unwavering hope glint in his eye but there's something else there too. A slight mist making his eyes glisten and at this point you’re sure that even he knows without getting proper medical attention soon your odds are dwindling. He’s only reminded of that more when your grip tightens on his forearm.

“Poe,” The first hint of fear makes its way into your voice when you speak, your head feeling heavier in his lap, “It’s c-cold.” You stutter out, and he notices the way your teeth are chattering slightly when he shifts as gently as possible to wrap himself snuggly around you.

“It’s okay,” he lies more to himself than to you, “you’re going into shock. Just stay with me, keep talking. You’re doing so well.” He says, finding it harder and harder to keep his voice even with each word.

“Can I ask you something?” You murmur. At this point in the cheesy holos you would watch back on base the handsome protagonist would have said ‘yes, anything,’ and it would be followed by a deep heartfelt confession but Poe wasn’t like that.

“Depends on what you’re asking.” He smirks and you shake your head. You’d have shoved him in the arm playfully if it didn’t take all of your concentration just to keep your eyes open right now.

“Seriously? Even in death you won’t tell me what happened on Dagobah?”

“You’re not dying!” He protests a little harsher than intended and you bite back your fading smile when you refocus on the question you had meant to ask him.

“Why do you still call me Skipper?” You rasp out and his head tilts fondly towards you. You and he both knew you’d been promoted ages ago yet the moniker had stuck. He had never taken the time to consider if you liked it or not.

“Because you hadn’t even made it out of training in that first battle on D’Quar but you stepped up to the plate when we needed you and were the best FO I’ve ever had.” He explained. “You’ll always be my right hand man.” He said quieter this time and with the way his forehead was practically pressed to yours and the closeness he held you to him with you had to wonder if he meant it in a couple more ways than one. You think he’s about to say more but you’re distracted when your vision begins to cloud with purple spots.

“Poe,” his name is heavy on your tongue as your heart rate picks up and your grip on his arm tightens. “I can’t see. I can’t…” your words trail off as he tries to jostle you back to life.

“Skipper, stay with me.” He calls to you but his voice is distant and the words scramble in your head. “Help is almost here, I’m sure of it, just stay with me.” He tries again, clutching you close as he rocks you in his arms but you’re already gone and he’s left muttering gentle affirmations to no one but himself.

***

It was bright. Way too bright and the fluorescent lights above that you recognized as those from the base infirmary made your eyes sting as you tried your best to cling to consciousness for the second time in 24 hours.

“Finn peed on me.” Your eyes had barely fluttered open when Poe spoke.

“What?” Your throat was hoarse from disuse for several hours and you were sure your ears must have been equally decalibrated with the words you were positive you had misheard.

“On Dagobah. You asked what happened on Dagobah and Finn had to pee on me.” He clarified but your mind was still reeling.

“Wait what?!” If you weren’t awake before you certainly were now, unable to restrain the disbelieving grin rising on your lips. You weren’t sure if it was over the story he was telling you or the mere fact that you were around to hear it but the feeling of pure joy welling in your chest was overwhelming.

“I got stung by one of those crazy looking swamp monster things that live in the water there and it hurt like hell and Finn said he’d heard something about urine making the sting go away so he peed on me and we both swore we’d never speak about it again.” He sped through the story as though he couldn’t get it over with fast enough but the look on his face told you he wasn’t quite as disappointed with telling you as his words let on.

“Did- did it work?” You asked hesitantly, half horrified and half too invested not to get an answer.

“No, it actually made it about a thousand times worse. It was… the dumbest idea we’ve ever had and that’s saying something.” He said, melting at the way you had to clutch your side to keep from laughing too hard.

“Why are you telling me this now?” You shake your head softly as the corners of your lips fall, leaving only the warm look in your eye that gave Poe the confidence to give you an actual answer.

“Because for a whole four minutes I thought I had just watched you die in my arms and it turned my entire world upside down.” He whispered, shifting onto the edge of the seat he’d pulled up to the side of your bed so he could grasp your hand in his. “I had so much I still wanted to tell you and I was too busy trying to will you not to die on me to get it all out.” He said and that misty look in his eyes had returned telling you this was no joke. “I never want to feel that way again.”

“Well we’ve got time, Poe. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon-” You start to say but he’s already shifting up onto the edge of your bed to clutch both of your hands in his and you would be lying if you said the intensity in his eyes wasn’t scaring you just a bit.

“No, no I’ve gotta tell you right now or I’m never gonna have the balls to say it again.” He insists and you shift up in the bed slightly to give him your full attention. “You were right about the Dagobah mission, we never should have gone alone-”

“Well yeah I could’ve told you that-” You chuckle but he’s too focused to pay it much mind.

“-and you technically won that race that one time because I accidentally misread the track markers and cut the course short-”

“I knew about that one. BB-8 told me, and it wasn’t an accident.”

“The little traitor.” He muttered to himself, forcing the corners of your lips to quirk upwards at the corners. “Sometimes I wish you hadn’t been promoted because I miss the feeling I used to get when I flew with you.” He admits rather sheepishly for his usual suave and self-assured demeanour and that's enough to render you speechless on its own but he’s not done yet. “And I’ve been in love with you since the moment you slid into that cockpit with me and only admitted after having to take full control for five minutes mid dogfight that you’d never flown outside of the sim before.”

“Well I knew I was in good hands.” You mumble, thoroughly distracted now by the realization of how close his face is hovering to yours.

“I think you’re missing the point here, Skipper.” He whispers, so close you can practically feel his gaze burning into your lips as he speaks.

“No, I’m just not entirely sure what to say.” You murmur back, the urge to close the short distance between you growing impossible to resist with each passing moment.

“Nothing, you don’t have to say anything...” He shakes his head, just about ready to pull away when you tilt your chin up to catch his lips with yours, feeling the way they curve up into a smile against your mouth as his hand comes to cradle your jaw. You’re not sure when your arms snuck around him in any attempt to hold him as close to you as possible, nor are you aware of how hard he’s working to resist the urge to melt into your touch and cause any more pain than has already been caused today. All you know is how whole you feel being in his embrace and how glad you are that you stuck around.

[Masterlist]

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Poe Dameron Taglist: @houseofthirst

[ecclais-fouoras]

FALLING, for someone like you.

Ch 1

Mentions of blood

You were walking down the stairs of your office, you were almost in your own office when you heard it. It was as quiet as a whisper. But enough to have you pay Attention. And you heard it again, a little whimper, like someone was crying quietly.

The sounds came from the floor underneath you. You decided to go find out who it was.

"Who's here ?"

You asked softly, no one responded so you kept going further.

It was your boss, ms Venable, sitting on the floor, her skirt higher up on her thighs, holding her legs like a little kid trying to soothe themself.

Her knee was covered in blood and her cane to far for her to reach. You rushed to her side and asked worriedly. "Oh god Ms venable what happened ?" She composed herself for a minute

"Well are you blind y/n, ?"

"No, I'm not but i though...."

"A dangerous pastime"

"Oh come on ! I said i thought it..."

"I do not give a single fuck about what you think"

"And you wonder why you're single"

"Excuse me ?"

"You heard me"

"I did now WOULD YOU EXPLAIN WHAT YOU EXACTLY MEAN BY THAT"

"I MEAN THAT YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT YOURSELF"

"I..."

"AND WHAT EVERYONE ELSE THINKS ABOUT YOU. BUT THAT AIN'T IT MS VENABLE....THERE IS MORE TO THE WORLD, THERE'S MORE TO PEOPLE AROUND YOU ! THERE'S... MORE TL LIFE, THAN THE BITTERNESS OF YOUR HEART TRIES TO CONVINCE YOU THERE IS"

"WHAT do YOU know about the world y/n ?! You have barely even lived old enough to leave your own diapers"

"And YOU'VE LIVED LONG ENOUGH TO STILL WEAR THEM !"

"AT LEAST I'VE LIVED LONG ENOUGH TL KNOW HOW PEOPLE ARE "

"clearly not long enough for that. Clearly you still believe there is nothing else in this world that matters to people besides money, and power. Well you're wrong, people have other motives, LOVE, CARE, FRIENDSHIP, SPIRITUALITY. We are not empty vessels for horrible people. We are not just, 'the idiots who work for you', we are the PEOPLE who work WITH you. With our own stories, experience, interests, and you would know. If you weren't so damn cold ! If you actually gave a shit, about any of us, beyond what we could think of you !"

"Well then what do YOU think of me"

"I THINK YOU'D MAKE FRIENDS IF YOU CARED !"

"WHAT ?"

"I THINK YOU HAVE INTERESTING THINGS TO SAY, EXPERIENCE, INTERESTS, BUT YOU ARE TO DAMNED AFRAID TO SHARE THEM.

I think you have to give love in order to receive some ! I don't know who's made you so sure that no one would or should ever. love you but that person's a piece of shit who doesn't deserve anything more than a rat's ass. Now let me help fou for god's sake. I can't stand to see you in pain"

"Why ?!"

"Because I don't want you to be in pain ! ESPECIALLY WHEN I CAN DO SOMETHING TO HELP ! IT'S CALLED EMPATHY"

"SO you just feel bad for everyone for no reason"

"Not necessarily, but right now I FEEL BAD FOR YOU ! NOW LET ME HELP.... please !"

She nodded so You rose to your Feet qnd told her "I'll be back soon". After a few minutes you came back with some rubbing alcohol, compress and bandages.

"We gotta get that cleaned up otherwise it could get infected"

"Get away y/n, i can do this on my own"

"Of course and you could get an open heart surgery by yourself so no-one else would have to see it. We get it, you're tough, and strong. Now quit this shit and let me help you."

"What-..."

"You heard me, now stop talking or I'll hit you so hard, I'll make your ancestors dizzy."

"How dare you talk to me like this. I am your supervisor, you will get back to your office now."

"With all due respect that's some bullshit. Let me help you now." She hesitated for a bit but gave in eventually. So you damped the cotton in alcohol cleaned her up and she winced. "I'm sorry, this will sting a bit"

You were closer to her than you'd ever been, your hand on her thighs and you could feel her breath on your neck. Her wound wouldn't close up no matter how much pressure you put on it. "Shit, this won't stop bleeding...I think you need stitches for that one"

"No i don't"

"Yes you do, the cut is to deep"

"I'm not going to the hospital"

"Yes you are" you replied.

"No"

"Why ?"

"...leave me alone please"

"I will not, you are hurt And you are bleeding and you can't stand up. I'm staying right there"

"Why"

"Because I care ! Because I don't leave people who need a little hand to bleed out sitting on their ass ! Because you're my boss, but mostly my colleague. Because you deserve someone who wants to help."

"You really think so ?"

"Yes ! Now stop being a pain in the ass and let me take you to the hospital."

"I can't, i...i have an hospital phobia. I can't do it"

Your mind immediately wondered to her cane, and her scoliosis, which probably took her to the hospital as a kid. And doctors can be quite mean, especially when they see you often.

"Okay... I'll find something else...oh my god does your back hurt right now, do you want to move ?"

"....it hurts but i don't want to move"

"Alright...I can stich you up, but it'll be without anestesia"

"Do it"

"Venable, It'll hurt like a bitch, are you really sure you don't want to go to the ER ?"

"Yes I'm sure, i can't go..."

"Even if I'm with your the whole time ?"

"I'm...."

"I'll hold your hand if you need it, and I won't leave your side"

"No... I'm sorry just stich me up"

You got all of the tools ready, and prepared her leg.

"It won't be long, bite this."

Your hands worked on her leg, and she groaned loudly at the pain. You cut the chord and cleaned her up again.

"All done I'm finished."

"Finally"

"Well I'm not done with you yet, do your have any wound anywhere else ?"

"No, i don't think so" you nodded

"Good Now, are you going to tell me what happened ?"

"It's embarrassing"

"I'm sure it's not, come on" you squeezed her knee and looked at her softly so she'd feel safe.

"I...I was trying to go to your office and I fell down the stairs and broke the light bulb, my cane was to far and i couldn't get back up so I dragged myself here."

"Oh...ms Venable, why didn't you call me ? I could have hellped you"

"Don't be silly y/n, you would have probably laughed if I wasn't your superior"

"No. I wouldn't have, because you've hurt yourself, and your pain isn't funny to me at all."

"Well i don't know why you would do that"

"Look, we might not know each other very much, but I'm still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone."

"You don't know me, maybe i do"

"Well then let me get to know the real you, and I'll be the juge of that" she laughed ironically

"Well you are quite the specimen."

"I know right ?! Now let's get you up, unless you'd like to spend the night sitting on the floor....here"

You picked her up by her hips, and before she could protest you cut her off.

"Tsk tsk tsk.. let me help you, that's the least I can do. I can't take away your pain, at least let me soothe it." Once you though she looked like she could stand up on her own you went to pick up her cane but suddenly she was falling again but this time you were close enough to at least hold her while she went down. You shifted so she you could be the one to take the impact and she fell on top of you.

"I'm so sorry y/n.. are you okay ??"

"Ye..yeah I'm Fine are you ?"

She began to laugh from the bottom of her heart at how ridiculous this situation was, and you joined her.

"That was really stupid of me...to think I'd take a step... without my cane"

"And that was really stupid of me... to think that leaving your side to pick it up was a good... idea" you said in between breaths

After a while you both calmed down, and she was still lying on you, her har had fallen out of her ponytail and came to rest on the side of her face, her eyes shining orange and her breath hitting your neck in a slow and steady rithm. She looked so beautiful, you brushed her hair behind her ear, before offering her a warm smile.

"Hi"

"Hey"

"We should get up y/n"

"Probably"

"Even though you are oddly confortable"

"And you are specifically beautiful"

She rose to her feet as if you'd insulted her, her pride, her life. So you lifted your hand to stroke her cheek.

"It's okay ms Venable, you're safe, I've got you. I really do find you beautiful, I'm not making fun of you."

You spoke as your words calmed all of her fears.

You both got up, you gave her back her cane.

And both of you walked off into the parking lot.

"I'd like to take you to dinner someway ms Venable"

"Please call me Wilhelmina"

"Okay then, I'd like to take you to dinner someway Wilhelmina"

"I'd like that too y/n"

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Mission of Mercy: Thirty-Six

“Sam,” you call, as he walked through the house from the bathroom, “Make sure none of those knuckle heads throw their back out trying to set up that tripod.”

“On it,” he said, glancing out the Cabin’s screen door to see Joe and Cooksy having a very animated argument about how to set up the aforementioned piece of equipment.

Natasha and Sharon watched him go and Natasha turned back towards you, “Jesus Christ.” You were sweating and Natasha was fairly certain you’d started cooking some time around 5am and hadn’t stopped since. “How?”

You shrug and wipe the sweat out of your eyes with a towel slung over your shoulder, “It used to be my mom, my grandma and I. Then Grandma died and mom stopped coming so…Here we are.”

You’d like to cry. You’re tired and your back hurts and you can feel the muscle cramps from standing in one spot for so long trying to get everything done. But you don’t, you just resume chopping to try and get things on the stove so you can finish things over the fire. Camping is work. Something no one else really seemed to understand.

Sharon drifted out to go be with Sam and you take a deep breath, tossing your knife into the sink with more force than was probably strictly necessary before adding the onions, tomato, and garlic into your waiting, perfectly seasoned cast iron pot.

Natasha squeezed behind you to get to the sink and started washing. She wasn’t entirely sure if you wanted help but. She didn’t blame you for being irritated by the male voices outside bellowing laughter while you were stuck inside trying to feed everyone you’d planned to feed AND the people that had decided to come along.

She couldn’t feel the tension in the air but she’d worked with you long enough to see it ratcheting down on you. It was like someone was twisting a corkscrew down your neck. And she’d be lying if she said it didn’t break her heart a little. She wondered, in the back of her mind, how long it had been like this on these little excursions. And if it was always like this or just the added pressure of having to also feed gods, supersoldiers, and other sundry heros.

______

You stood on the porch watching the goings on for a minute and sighed. There was still cornbread to be made but at least that you could do outside. It was hotter than hell in the kitchen and the breeze off the lake felt like heaven as it cooled the sweat on your forehead. You hefted the pot slightly closer to your body and started down the steps carefully.

“Move,” you snap. You’re hot and this pot is heavy and you really don’t have the patience to be polite and wait for someone to listen to you.

Sam started and pulled Sharon out of your way quickly to let you through and you sigh, starting across the grass to adjust your fire and get the chili on properly. You can feel people watching you and it rankles. Honestly with all the strong ass men that have been drinking and laying around all day, you’d appreciate it if someone would have at least ASKED if you wanted the extra set of hands.

You wrestle the cauldron sized pot into place and wipe your forehead on your forearm, swaying slightly on your feet. “Can someone-” you start the sentence but. You can’t really seem to find the rest of the words. No one’s looking at you. They’ve all gone back to doing… whatever. And all you want to do is cry. There’s still so much left to do. And you realize that if you wanted to work this hard all weekend you could have just stayed home holed up in your office.

But. Your boys like corn bread. And it isn’t their fault that Tony rented out what feels like half the lake. So. You turn and go to get the things you need to make it. Just the way your grandma did. Because she learned from her mom. And so on and so forth. It was the only thing Joe ever asked for and you were going to make sure he got it.

Bucky watched you disappear back into the house and frowned. He’d not seen you all day. Not since you slipped out of bed to make sure Cooksy got his pancakes and there was breakfast waiting on everyone else. But even from a distance, you looked wrecked. And he didn’t miss that you were limping just a little. He wasn’t sure if it was your old injuries or a new one. But he whistled to Lucy all the same and started back up the beach.

_____

He stopped at the kitchen door and watched you for a minute, watching you mix batter and talk to the dog who was sitting very patiently to have her ears rubbed just like she liked.

“Are you having fun?” you ask, kneeling for just a minute to lavish attention on her, “Out there exploring? I’m gonna have to check you for ticks tonight before bed.”

“You okay?” Bucky watched you look up and his stomach twists. You look hot and tired. And even Lucy seems to know that all is not right. Her tail, which usually wags nonstop when you talk to her is still and she’s frantically burrowing into your chest like she can will you into feeling better if she wipes enough eye boogers on your shirt.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, catching yourself on the counter as you waver on your feet trying to stand up straight.

“Now say that and don’t fall over,” he said folding his arms.

“I’m not arguing with you, I’ve got too much to do,” you tell him, pouring batter very carefully into your freshly greased pan.

“Sweetheart,” he started.

He wanted to put an arm around you and make you sit down but when you brush past him, pan in hand, he had no choice but to follow you. And watch as you knelt by your fire to make sure everything was exactly how you wanted it to be.

“Something smells good, kid,” Joe said, lowering himself into a camp chair with a groan

You make a soft sound but otherwise, you don’t answer. It’s still hot, this close to the fire but at least you can feel some of the breeze of the lake at your back. And you’re not standing up. That’s good. Standing hurts. Kneeling like this hurts too but at least it hurts new muscles.

“Cornbread is an art,” you explain to Lucy, scritching her neck.

“Damn straight,” Joe agreed, chuckling when the little dog waddled her way over to investigate her pop up dish for treats.

Bucky came and took a spot on your other side and leaned over to kiss your head. Your hair is damp with sweat and he can see the tremors in your hands when you reach out to carefully adjust pans. “Thirsty?” he asked softly.

“And hot. And hungry. And tired.” you answer.

“Baby-” Bucky starts. But he stops when you shake your head. You don’t want to talk about it. You don’t want anything. You just want to be done. And you want to go home. Bucky gets to his feet and kisses your head again, going to get dishes and find an ice pack to put on your back when you decide to stop being grumpy and let him help you.

By the time the corn bread is all done and the chili has simmered into it’s perfect state, fireflies are drifting over the grass. You straighten up slowly and set the last pan on the wooden table with a clang.

And that’s the last thing you remember.

At least until you roll over and dry heave into the grass for about a minute.

_________

Bucky saw you waver for a second and he’d never been more thankful to be fast in his life. He didn’t quite manage to catch you, but he did manage to keep you from smacking your head on the concrete right behind you.

He isn’t sure who handed him a cold cloth and he honestly doesn’t really care. All he knows is that he’s kicking himself for not sticking closer to the house. And that there are several team mates he’d personally like to strangle.

“Easy,” he cautioned, wiping tears and snot off your face with a clean handkerchief and putting an arm behind your back to help you sit up.

“ ‘m okay,” you protest weakly.

“Get her inside,” Nat said quietly, nudging Bucky. Most of the party hadn’t really seen what happened. And Nat figured you’d probably like it to stay that way.

“Put your arms around my neck,” Bucky murmured, nodding.

You did. Too disoriented and tired to do anything else. And Bucky carried you carefully into the bedroom that you were sharing, laying you on the cot. You whimper just slightly and Bucky takes a second to run practiced hands over your limbs feeling for anything broken.

“Easy,” he repeated, putting a hand on your chest to keep you still. “Someone bring me some cold water. And rags.”

Your skin was the wrong temperature. You were too hot and too cold all at the same time. Heat exhaustion then, not heat stroke, he decided and pressed a kiss against your forehead. “You gotta take it easy,” he scolded gently, taking the ice water and a stack of wash cloths from Joe and Natasha before shooing them out.

__________

Bucky sat on the floor by the bed and watched you sleep, stroking your hair. He was afraid to sleep next to you, worried that you’d get too hot. He hadn’t even wanted to let Lucy sleep with you but the poor puppy had cried like someone was killing her when he shut the bedroom door.

“You’re not doing anything tomorrow,” he muttered. “All you’re gonna do is lay in the shade and watch those chuckle fucks figure out how to feed everyone.”

[anomander-dragnipurake]

Ghosts

I initially had the idea to do this fic a while ago, even before I started writing my first Super Mario fic. I finally got around to it for Halloween after being reminded of the idea via coming across a fanart piece that depicted a similar idea. I'd link it because it's sort of fic inspiration but it's buried deep in the Bowuigi tag on Tumblr and in the reblogs on my main blog.

~

Of course the hotel was haunted, why wouldn’t it be? Just when he thought he was finally free of having to deal with ghosts, this had to happen. Finding the Poltergust in the garage – indicating E. Gadd was here somewhere too, probably trapped in a portrait – was a sheer stroke of luck because Luigi had neglected to bring his own ghost hunting equipment. This one was the new model E. Gadd had been telling him about too which was neat expect for the fact that he now had to use it to deal with a hotel full of ghosts.

Before getting to that though, he glanced around the garage one last time to make sure he was alone before pulling out his phone. He needed to call Bowser, tell him not to come day after tomorrow after all. They’d been planning to have him show up at the hotel a couple days later and then finally reveal their relationship to Mario and Peach because away from home while on vacation when everyone was already in a good mood seemed like a good place to do that. But ghosts had happened instead so it’d have to wait.

Though it wasn’t super late into the night yet, hopefully Bowser would already be sleeping so Luigi could just leave a message. There was a very real chance Bowser would want to come anyway to punch the ghosts over their plans being ruined and only get himself in trouble. Luigi would rather not have to try to dissuade him from that so… He picked up on the third ring.

“Hey, what’s up?” he said. “Aren’t you normally in bed by now?”

“Uh… yeah but um… well turns out the hotel’s haunted, it was a trap from King Boo. He uh… yeah, stuff happened and I have to deal with it.” He needed to save Mario and Peach, the Toads too. “So, you probably shouldn’t come after all. We’ll have to tell them… later.” Both of them had kept finding reasons to put it off, figures after finally committing to a plan something would go wrong with it.

“He got Mario again, didn’t he?”

“Yep and Peach and the Toads and probably E. Gadd too, since his car is here but he’s not.”

Bowser grunted. “How does King Boo keep beating Mario when I never could?”

“Please not now.” Mario was in danger; Luigi didn’t want to hear about Bowser’s rivalry with him when that was a thing.

“Oh uh… all right, sorry. You okay?” All the gruff bravado was gone from Bowser’s voice now. Instead he sounded concerned which meant Luigi’s plea had been filled with more desperation than he’d intended.

“No, not really.” How could he be in this situation? What if he couldn’t beat King Boo this time? Or what if… King Boo took it further and killed Mario before Luigi could get there to even try to save him?

“Right, you’re afraid of ghosts, huh?”

“I know I probably shouldn’t be anymore.” He’d dealt with two full hauntings and captured King Boo twice as well so logically he shouldn’t be afraid anymore but alas, his fear had never been rooted in anything logical. “But… they’re still scary.” He leaned against E. Gadd’s car, holding back a grown. This ‘adventure’ had only just started and he was already tired.

“All righty then,” Bowser said as if reaching some kind of decision. “I’ll go over and beat the ghosts up for you. Except me in however long it takes my fastest air ship to get there.”

“What? No, no, no, you don’t need to come down here. I can handle it on my own.” It was too late though; the line was dead.

Luigi groaned as he flipped his phone closed to slip back into his pockets. Now he had to save his brother and friends and watch out for when Bowser arrived to hopefully make sure King Boo didn’t get him too. Could the night get any worse?

***

The hotel was rather drab looking in the dark of night, there wasn’t a light on anywhere inside it. It had looked much better in the brochures so it was a disappointment all around. Vacation wasn’t what Bowser was here for though so whatever. Maybe a dark hotel would serve as a good arena to beat up some ghosts and King Boo though.

Mario was going to be so shocked when he saw it was Bowser who’d save him this time. That would count as finally besting him too, right? Defeating the person who’d defeated him was basically a victory over both of them, right? So, this was going to be a fun outing after all.

With a signal from him, the ship flew in closer to hover over the roof. “Circle at a distance until I call you back,” he instructed the shy guy at the wheel before vaulting over the edge. In hindsight, even with how much it would’ve slowed down the ship, he probably should’ve brought in a troop of minions for backup but he’d been in such a hurry and hadn’t wanted to wait for an entire troop to get ready to broad it and now it was too late. Whatever though, he could handle King Boo and his tiny boos by himself.

He landed on the hotel’s roof with a thud, the tiles cracking beneath his weight. Glancing around he was disappointed to see that the roof was empty. What his exact plan was, he had no idea but he didn’t a plan, he’d just wing it like he normally did and it should be fine.

The roof was pretty barren and thus it didn’t take him long to locate a possible way down so he could enter in properly through a window or something. Before he could start to descend though…

“Why are you here?”

He snapped around to see King Boo had come out of seemingly nowhere. He was holding a portrait of Princess Peach, which knowing King Boo’s powerset, meant it probably was her. Bowser had given up courting her a long time ago and had only continued to kidnap her to lure Mario in for another rematch. He no longer even did that because Luigi had decided to convince him not to which had ultimately resulted in their current relationship. But it still made him mad because if anyone was going to capture her, it should’ve been him. He at least treated her right, the way a princess should be treated, not trapping her in a portrait. So…

“I’m here to kick your ass,” he said with a slight growl as he balled up his hands into fists. He would’ve preferred to start with a blast of fire but he wasn’t sure how flammable Peach’s portrait was and he wasn’t going to risk damaging it and possibly her.

King Boo raised an eyebrow and laughed. “You’ll make a nice portrait so sure, I won’t question my good fortune, let’s fight.”

Bowser lunged at him even before finished speaking, intending to grab and rip Peach’s portrait out of his hands. But King Boo floated higher, dodging with seemingly little effort. And he was out of Bowser’s range completely, such bullshit.

With a flash of light from King Boo’s crown, there was suddenly an empty portrait floating beside him. “Sorry this isn’t much of a fight, I got stuff to do,” he said as it starting glowing, pulling Bowser in.

Like hell was he gonna be turned into wall art. He’d blast the damn thing to bits with fire and then…

 -

Next thing he knew, he was indoors and looking down at Luigi instead of up at King Boo. It felt kind of like waking up after a too long nap. He breathed out the breath he’d been taking, releasing a puff of smoke instead of the mighty blast of fire he’d intended it to be. He glanced around at the room, it seemed to be an office of some sort. “What happened? Where am I?” he said as he looked back down.

Luigi looked tired but otherwise mostly fine. He had the Poltergust on his back but a different model than the one he’d shown Bowser. This one had a clear tank with something green inside it. “You were captured by King Boo and turned into a portrait,” he said. “Why did you have come? I tried to tell you not to.”

“Because I wanted to.” Bowser always did whatever he wanted.

“Yeah but why?”

“You’re scared of ghosts, I wanted to beat them up for you.” And he still would, he just had to try a little harder. There were few problems that couldn’t be solved with a good punch and/or blast of fire.

“Oh uh… thanks for the thought.” The slight blush on Luigi’s face as he lifted his free hand to rub the back of his neck was cute and made look slightly less tired. “But I um… I’m fine. I can handle it by myself.”

Bowser sighed as he crossed his arms. He wasn’t too good at reading other people’s emotions but… “You don’t seem fine.”

Luigi deflated a little, letting out a heavy sigh. “It’s scary and I’m tired and… scared and stuff. Gotta save my bro though so…” he trialed off with a shrug. “You should probably go the garage but uh… I’m not sure how I’m going to explain your presence to E. Gadd and the Toads, that’s going to be awkward but I’m not sure where else would be safe.”

“Fuck that, it’s personal now, I’m going to beat up King Boo.” No way would Bowser ever stand for such a humiliating defeat. So he turned to march out the room.

Before he could take more a few steps though Luigi grabbed his arm pulling him back. Bowser could easily just drag him along or pick up and carry him with him or even just shake him off entirely but didn’t.

“You can’t,” Luigi said. “He’ll just turn you into a portrait again so… please don’t. I already have to save Mario and Peach, I don’t want to have to save you again too.” He sounded desperate and scared and… it made Bowser feel bad. “So just… let me do it.”

“You’re scared of ghosts though.” So he shouldn’t even want to do this.

“Yeah but… you need special equipment for hunting ghosts and… I’ve never lost to them so… I can handle it.” He was full on hugging Bower’s arm now, making it even harder to pull away.

Bowser could only sigh at that. “All right, fine, I’ll just help you then.” He could do that much at least. “I’m not letting that bastard get away with beating me so easily and I’m not letting you face the ghosts on your own when you’re so scared of them. And there’s nothing you can do to convince me to hide in some stupid safe place instead.”

Luigi looked like he wanted to protest but sighed instead as he rested the side of his face against Bowser’s upper arm. “Okay, that works, I guess. It’s… kind of nice to have some company anyway I suppose, it gets kind of lonely sometimes.”

Bowser grunted instead of trying to come up with a reply because he wasn’t sure how to. “Let’s go,” he said instead, gesturing towards the rooms exit. He wanted to see how Luigi fought ghosts, he’d been curios about what that was like ever since Luigi had told him about it. “I can’t wait to see the look on Mario’s face when I help save him.”

Luigi chuckled nervously. “That’s uh… certainly going to be an interesting meeting.”

[mellometal]

Hey, everyone.

I've tried to compose myself before making this post. This is a subject that I've touched on a little bit in posts, but I've never done a deep dive into JUST this topic. I was going to make a post solely about this subject sooner, but this one in particular is really hard for me to talk about without getting emotional...and yet Dhar Mann has talked about this on quite a few occasions in the most insincere, toxic ways. I'll do my best to discuss this topic without getting too emotional.

It's about a serious subject that people still are ignorant about and don't take seriously. Even to this day, with the body positivity and body neutrality movements. (I don't know of a better way to describe just being neutral about your body. Sorry if it sounds weird.)

For anyone who doesn't know what I'm referring to (honestly, I don't blame you, as this is a subject that's often seen as normal and is encouraged in society for the most part), I'm talking about fatphobia. Hating on people for being fat. Discriminating people because of their weight in the workplace, at the doctor's office, just in general. Not many stores having inclusive sizes. People being treated like they're subhuman because they're fat.

I want to say this first, before I bash on Dhar Mann again: I'm a plus-size young woman. This is something that I have personal experience with. Your weight has no significance to your worth as a person. If you do happen to be overweight, obese, whatever, you're not subhuman. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. You're worthy of being loved, listened to, treated with kindness, and respected, just like anyone else who isn't fat.

If you treat people like utter shit for their weight, get some help. Why do you care about somebody else's weight? Obviously there's an exception to this, like if they're so big they can't move or they're so skinny their organs are showing....because those are causes for concern, but other than that, mind your own business. Even if they are in those extremities, unless you're their doctor and/or their family, STILL mind your own business. How the fuck does a fat person simply breathing and existing affect you in any way? News flash: there will always be fat people.

Before I get to the weekly ritual of tearing TWO of Dhar Mann's videos apart (the next one will be in another post or I'll reblog this post and continue on there), here's an obligatory trigger warning for the video analysis itself and my response: The following post contains fatphobia, fat shaming, a man being super fucking misogynistic and treating women like they're objects, and there's even a touch of some racial aggression. How shocking. Because Dhar Mann really seems to get a kick out of writing about racism to make it all cute. Oh yeah, you're totally solving racism, Dhar Mann. /s

My response contains my experience with fatphobia, relationships with food, mentioned/implied thoughts of s3lf h@rm, feeling like I'm unworthy of being treated like an actual person because of my weight, and absolute rage. Like usual. My responses are very heated. This one especially. It's LONG. Buckle up.

With all this out of the way, let's get to the first video that I want to tear apart. This one is about the auditions for a record deal. I will get to the video about a kid wanting to be a host of a radio show later.

To sum up the first video, a plus-size white woman (Krissy Elliot) is singing for an agent (Isaac) and his assistant (Evette) so she can follow her dream to become a singer. Isaac cuts Krissy off to viciously bash her for being a plus-size woman. Evette stands up for this woman, and says she sounded fine and to let her finish. Isaac doesn't listen to Evette, let alone take what she said into consideration. He continues to ridicule Krissy for her appearance, that she'll "never make it in the music industry" (WRONG, do you know how many plus-size people are in the fucking music industry? There are A LOT more now than when I was growing up and it honestly makes me so happy. There were more plus-size people in the entertainment industry than in the music industry back then.), suggested that she "become a chef or a food critic" because she apparently loves being around food (being a chef or a food critic are noble professions, but NEVER fucking assume ANYONE'S relationships with food), to the point where Krissy left the room in tears.

Here are a few screenshots for context:

When this skinny, conventionally attractive woman (Jesse) comes in, Isaac's mood does a COMPLETE 180° and he's all sunshine and rainbows. Then right as soon as Jesse did her audition, Isaac is over the fucking moon, complimenting her physical appearance, treating her like an object, and signs her up for a record deal RIGHT AWAY. Pay attention to Isaac's facial expressions in one of these screenshots.

Evette suggests that they sign Krissy for a record deal instead. Because she was "the best singer they've had all day". Isaac, still all hot and bothered by a skinny, conventionally attractive woman that he's treating like an object, tells Evette that people like Krissy don't make it in the music industry because they're "overweight and unattractive", and is verbally aggressive towards her when she does nothing but explain her stance. Isaac sees this as Evette "talking back" (remember how I mentioned that there's racial aggression? He says that Evette is "talking back" because she happens to be a black woman) and fires her. He signs Jesse a record deal and has a blast with her.

The award ceremony comes around, and they're picking a winner for Best New Artist. They pick the winner, and it's....guess what? You'll never get it! It's Krissy Elliot! Why? Because Evette became her agent after Isaac fired her. Krissy goes into her whole story about how she was laughed out of every single agency and that she worked hard. Good for her. Jesse is obviously very happy for Krissy. We gotta love women supporting women.

This video was again another dumpster fire. As usual. Like I said, with this video in particular, I couldn't get through the first thirty seconds the first time around. Because I've dealt with shit like this. Obviously not with the music industry because I don't even think I'd be good enough to step into an agency...but I mean in my personal life.

Being told by my own dad that he was "tired of buying bigger clothes for me" when I was a young teenager, despite him buying almost nothing but "junk food".

Having my abuser make comments about my weight and talking about diets while I'm trying to eat my food, despite her being overweight.

Having someone I know (not anyone I'm friends with) make a comment about me eating a few things (ONE small piece of broccoli, two baby carrots, a small handful of chips, and ONE small piece of pineapple) and said to "save some for everyone else", even though I was saving food for everyone else, which is why I took so little. She tried to justify it with the fact nobody was there yet (why do you think I took very little food?), and she "was saying that to everyone" (why did she look at ME when she said that instead of making it clear that she was talking to everyone [saying "Hey, everyone" before the comment about saving some for everyone else IS NOT HARD]?), even though I know it was just to save her own ass. I knew she said that to me because I'm plus-size. She didn't say anything to anyone else, nor did she make it clear that she was talking to everyone.

Another person I know (not a person I'm friends with) saying that I overreacted (I did not overreact; SOMEONE TRIGGERED ME and you did NOTHING about it) even though they all KNEW my relationship with food is complicated. They KNEW that I don't really like eating in front of other people. I was upset that someone MADE A FUCKING DISGUSTING, TRIGGERING COMMENT ABOUT ME EATING VERY FEW FOOD ITEMS, ALMOST ALL WERE HEALTHY, DESPITE OTHER PEOPLE EATING A LOT MORE THAN I DID AND PICKING AT EVERYTHING. That day, I was begging one of my friends (one of the people I trust to eat around) to PLEASE take me home because I didn't want to be there (never wanted to be there in the first place), I was tired (I worked all night the night before and was forced to go to a meeting before all this happened), I didn't feel comfortable there anymore, there were way too many people (four individuals plus all their staff from another house were in the house I work in), I couldn't breathe (I was either about to pass out, have a panic attack, or just start crying), but nobody listened to me. I ended up getting a bus to go home.

(Sorry about all that. I was trying not to get emotional in this post. I just needed to share how this can affect people.)

Onto my response, which is all in the screenshots below.

ETA: I know the screenshots for my response are very jumbled right now and it’s difficult to read. I apologize to anyone who’s unable to fully read it! Because this is part one of this whole subject of fatphobia (I’m making a post about the boy wanting to become a radio host very soon), my response here will tie into that post. My response to that video is vastly the same, despite not making a comment on that video as of right now (the radio host one). 

I’ll be typing out my full response here. I apologize for weird formatting. Instagram wouldn’t let me break up my response into paragraphs. I’ll break them up into paragraphs here instead.

CC (Combination of the first, second, and third screenshots, aka, the first part of my response):

 I have a few questions before I get into my thoughts on this video. One, how the hell does your weight have any significance on your worth as a person, and if you do think this way, why would you think that? Two, do you know that fatphobia is a lot more than just judging a person for being fat? Three, why do you feel like you can speak for fat people like myself with this piss poor excuse for a video that I could barely get through the first thirty seconds of the first time? 

You can’t speak for any of us. I can’t speak for every fat person because not everyone has the same experiences as me. 

I’ve been bullied for my weight in real life as well as online. People have called me ugly just because of my weight. By the way, your weight doesn’t equal beauty, and that’s what I’m still learning. Beauty comes in all shapes and sizes. 

On quite a few occasions, I have actually thought about doing dangerous things to my body that I don’t feel comfortable going into here. All because I had people try to boil me down to my weight, call me ugly, and destroy whatever self-esteem I had left. You don’t know what fat people go through, so don’t act like you do. 

There are many factors that go into why a person may be fat, including medical conditions, mental illness, trauma, genetics, etc. All of those things are none of your business unless those people decide to be open about it. 

No, it’s not always healthy to be fat (obviously there are extremities on both sides of the spectrum of weight that are extremely unhealthy), but it doesn’t make a person any less of a human being. Fat people are human too. Quit treating us like we’re not. We deserve to be treated like everyone else who isn’t fat. I’m not saying put all fat people on a pedestal. I’m saying treat us like human beings.

CC (Combination of the fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh screenshots, aka, the second part of my response):

Remember how I said that fatphobia isn’t just about judging people for being fat? Well, there’s the “fat tax” on plus-size clothing (even though it maybe only costs a little bit more in fabric, if there’s any difference in making clothes for people who aren’t fat), limited styles for fat people in stores (making a lot of us have to buy fast fashion or have to spend a fortune on clothes that actually flatter us), not very many stores have inclusive sizes still (if you don’t at least carry max 5XL or a size 38/40 in pants size, you cannot call yourself inclusive), and a lot of other things.

Many fat people, myself included, are afraid to seek medical attention for anything (even checkups) because of doctors who only focus on our weight and not on what we came in to see them for. They write it off as if our weight is the sole cause of our problems, which isn’t always the case.

How about we talk about how expensive it is to eat healthy in a lot of places? Not everyone can afford to make fresh meals every day, let alone once a week. Maybe they were never taught how to due to their upbringing. You don’t know.

I’ve had people comment on my weight, what I’m eating (even if I’m eating something healthy like fruits and veggies), talk about my weight or diets EVEN WHILE I’M TRYING TO EAT, and it’s caused me to wait until I’m alone or around someone I trust to eat anything. As a result, I have a complicated relationship with food now.

Telling someone they’re fat doesn’t help them. They know that. They see themselves every day. People may want to change, but they either are afraid to ask for help, or they don’t know where to start. Some may not want to change. It’s up to them, honestly. If you want to help them lose weight, maybe suggest any physical activity they’d have fun doing and do them with them? I dance for fun. Also, you could help set up meal plans with them. 

If you’re not going to at least try to help them lose weight if you’re so concerned about them (this is all if they actually want to change things and don’t know where to start), I cannot say this in a sweeter way: shut your mouth and mind your own business. Because you’re just being a cunt at that point.

CC (eighth screenshot, aka, the third and final part to my response):

There are quite a few plus-size people in the entertainment industry as a whole who are/were very successful. Remember the late Chris Farley and Aretha Franklin? Chris Farley was big, but that didn’t change how great of an actor he was, how funny he was, or how much of an impact he made in the entertainment industry. Aretha Franklin was a plus-size black woman in the music industry, but she’s inspired SO MANY artists we have today! There are many plus-size men, women, and I believe even nonbinary people in the public eye in general. Like I’ve said, beauty comes in all shapes and sizes. That’s why the body positivity and body neutrality movements are a thing.

(I know I implied that I thought about sh here in my response, but please don't worry about me as far as that goes. I'm fine now. I would never go through with anything like that.)

In the last part of my response where I mentioned some plus-size people in the entertainment industry as well as the music industry (the late Chris Farley and the late Aretha Franklin), I was going to name more people, but my comments were getting too long. I'll name some more here off the top of my head:

Lizzo (rapper), the Piggy Dolls (the first K-Pop girl group made up of actual plus-size women), K*v*n Sp*c*y (I don't feel comfortable saying his name because he's a disgusting person, but he's another plus-size man...he was in King of Queens and in A LOT of movies), PSY, Greyson Gritt (a genderqueer person in the music industry), Elle King, Produce Pandas (the first music group in China full of plus-size men), Martha Wash, Chubby Checker, Fats Domino, Big Angel (a J-Pop group of all plus-size women), Chubbiness (another J-Pop group of all plus-size women), Pottya (another J-Pop group of all plus-size women)...there are so many that I found, but if you want to add more plus-size artists, plus-size actors, plus-size comedians/comediennes, feel free to add them in the comments!

Dhar Mann, you'll never know what plus-size people go through. You don't know what we go through. You have NO IDEA what we go through on a daily basis. Stop acting like you do. Because you don't, and you never will.

By the way, Dhar Mann, this will NOT be the last post I'll make about you or your videos. The more you make fucking deplorable, poorly written bullshit, the more posts I'll make! Teehee!

If you got this far, thank you so much. The next part of this is coming very soon. I'm sorry for not posting too many screenshots from the video. I wanted to fit in my response because it's important for people to see.

Have a good day/afternoon/night, y'all. Love you!

[cake-writes]

Ruse (Part Two)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Story Warnings: Bodyguard!AU (except it’s not actually an AU because Bucky’s still an Avenger), Reader’s a loveable idiot, Fluff, Humour, Slow Burn, Angst, Violence, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (Bucky), Eventual 18+

Word Count: 1749

Summary: Natasha ropes you into her plan to help Bucky's mental state: temporarily relieving him from his avenging duties to be your bodyguard. There’s no threat, of course, and it’s a terrible idea – but it just might work.

Part One / Master List

A little after ten a.m., there’s a knock on the door.

You and Natasha have been on the sofa all morning watching some trashy daytime soap opera. There’s not much else to do, and it’s not like you can go anywhere if you’re a target. That’s why she stayed the night, too – you’re in need of protection, now. A real damsel in distress.

Yeah, right.

Unfortunately, you’re not allowed near the door.

“Gotta check who it is and evaluate the risks,” she cheekily rubs it in as she walks over to find out who’s waiting on the other side.

What a brat.

When you shoot her a look to convey as much, she snorts. “You’d better get used to it, because this is your life now.”

And then you groan, because you know she’s right. What the hell did she talk you into?

Laughing, she pulls open the door, and the decorative pillow you’ve just thrown at her sails right out into the hallway. You’ve got impeccable aim, really, but it’s Natasha so of course she’s moved out of the way. Didn’t even have to look to know you were trying to bean her in the head.

It may not have hit her, but it did hit somebody.

“Oh my god—” You jump up from the sofa and, rushing over, you add, “Shit, I’m so sorry!”

You’ve just decked Bucky Barnes with a throw pillow. What the fuck.

At least it wasn’t in the face, and he caught it easily – leather-gloved fingers dig into plush cotton and velour and you realize, then, that of all the pillows you could have thrown, you picked the stupidest one. 

It’s a cupcake. A big pink cupcake.

You’re a baker, but still. You threw a pillow at The Winter Soldier. A cupcake pillow. 

What the actual fuck.

Pretty blue eyes meet yours for a moment, briefly, before gives Natasha a look that says in no uncertain terms that he knows it was her fault. “What did you say to her?”

Natasha just deadpans, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You huff a little under your breath, and she uses her elbow to jab you in the ribs.

His brows raise in amusement – or maybe it’s suspicion. Either way it has you sweating bullets.

“Please come in,” you somehow manage, and when you step aside to let him in, you shoot Natasha another dirty look that makes her cough back a laugh. “I’m really sorry, Mr. Barnes. I don’t usually throw things at people.”

“Bucky,” he tells you with a smile, offering you your pillow. “And don’t worry. Something tells me it’s not your fault.”

Only with him standing right in front of you do you realize how tall he is. And how built. He’s thick and muscular and holy hell, he could absolutely break you in the best of ways.

Jesus Christ.

You swallow thickly and take the pillow from him, but it does nothing to distract you from how attractive he is. Those clear blue eyes crinkle so beautifully when he smiles; not to mention the stubble on his chiselled jaw, or the messy bun that has loose strands of brown hair framing his face so perfectly.

“Thanks,” is all you can think to say.

How in the ever-loving fuck were you supposed to keep it together with him around? You can’t even string a sentence together now that you’ve had a good and proper look at him. 

And that’s on your six-month dry spell. 

“I know I already gave you a run-down on the phone,” Natasha pipes up, startling you out of your thoughts, “but is there anything else you need before I go?”

She’s talking to Bucky, not you, so you flop back down on the sofa and try to focus back on the TV. Unsuccessfully, of course. There’s no way you’ll be able to focus with him here.

“I think I’ve got it,” he responds, eyes sweeping across the apartment. “Entry points?”

“Nine. Three windows in here, two in each bedroom, and one in the bathroom.”

“Fire exit?”

“Off the master bedroom.”

“Thought so.” He doesn’t sound too pleased, and you sneak a glance over at him out of curiosity. When Natasha catches you and slyly arches a brow, you immediately whip your head back to face the TV. Fuck. “I’ll have a look. Thanks, Nat.”

She nods and takes a few steps over to the sofa to catch your attention. Predictably, when you look up at her, she gives you a knowing smirk. “Stay safe, okay? You’re in good hands.”

Another wink, and you know, then, that this was intentional. 

God damn it.

“I’ll be fine, Nat,” you play along, but you don’t believe it anymore. There aren’t any risks to your health, of course – it’s all a ruse, but there is a risk that you’re going to make a complete ass of yourself. Bucky Barnes is too damn attractive for his own good, and what’s worse is that Natasha knew this would happen. “Go on, get out of here. Traitor.”

If you’re not mistaken, you might have heard Bucky stifle a laugh. 

She just gives you both an innocent little wave, and then she’s off, shutting the door behind her with a near-silent click.

Now you’re stuck with him. All alone. Just the two of you. 

Now what?

“Should I, uh,” you stammer awkwardly, peering over to find him standing next to your kitchen table, duffel on the floor, and you rephrase, “I should give you a tour, right? I mean, you are my guest... Right?”

Bucky laughs more audibly this time, and man, if you don’t love the sound. “Do whatever makes you feel comfortable. I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to spend your weekend.”

Ha. If only he knew otherwise.

So you hop up from the sofa to give him a grand tour of your apartment, heart hammering in your chest. “I should say the same to you! No fun plans?” 

“Not unless you think paperwork is fun,” he teases. “You’re actually doing me a favour.”

You like the sound of that.

It’s an exaggerated show of your digs, because you’re nervous and he’s him and you’re two seconds away from shoving your foot in your mouth – but somehow, you manage.

The living room is easy, and the kitchen. It’s got an open floor plan, after all, and he already saw it when he came in. After that, you take him down the hallway, where on the left is the too-small bathroom. It only fits one person at a time, and barely even that.

Across from the bathroom is your spare room, and that’s where you take him next. It’s not like you have guests very often, so you’ve turned it into an office. Running your own bakery requires a fair amount of administrative work, and you need the extra space for that.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, and Bucky gives you a confused look.

“Why are you sorry?”

“My spare room doesn’t have a bed.”

It’s evident, now, that he’s going to have to sleep on the sofa, but he just shrugs.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he tells you. “I’m here to keep you safe. Don’t need a bed for that.”

Of course, he’s welcome to share yours, but you don’t mention that. 

Then the two of you are off to the final destination: your room, which makes you even more nervous until Bucky pauses for a moment to inspect the window leading out to the fire escape.

“What’s going on here?” he asks, and you stop cold.

“Well, uh…” Shit, you’re gonna look like an idiot. “Someone broke in right before I moved in, and my landlord never had it fixed so I nailed it shut.”

Bucky sighs. “That’s not safe. What’ll you do if there’s a fire?”

“Break the window?” you offer unhelpfully. “That’s why I keep a hammer in here.”

To prove your point, you nod at the dresser, where, sure enough, you’ve got a hammer sitting next to your jewellery. His eyes follow to where you’ve indicated, and when he sees the hammer, you can very clearly spot the growing disapproval on his face.

Yep, Bucky Barnes thinks you’re an idiot. Fantastic.

“Any other surprises I need to know about?”

He’s just going to find out anyway, so you opt for honesty, which may or may not be the best idea.

“The bathroom window doesn’t lock either, but we’re five stories up so that’s not a problem, right?” 

Bucky doesn’t answer; instead, he frowns, and you can’t help but laugh nervously. 

“Oh, and one of the burners on my stove doesn’t work right. I taped over it so it wouldn’t leak gas, you know, just in case.”

That’s when he lets out a long, slow breath. Oh, yeah, he’s annoyed for sure – even you can tell as much. “If there’s anything else, you need to tell me. I can’t do my job properly if you’ve done other things like this,” he taps on the window pane, “that I don’t know about.”

Other things. He’s too nice to say stupid things.

You nod.

“Alright. I’m going to check the entry points to make sure they work—” cue a pointed look in your direction that makes you look away in embarrassment, “and that they lock.”

“Thank you.” You swallow your pride and say again, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just be more careful.” 

There’s a certain bite to his tone that cuts deep, and you anxiously chew your lip, eyes downcast. He’s right. You really should have pushed harder to get things fixed. Why hadn’t you? 

Then he swears low under his breath and gently places his hand on your shoulder, and you force yourself to look back up at him.

When he speaks again, his voice is softer than before. “Sorry. That wasn’t fair. It’s not your fault, I just...” There’s a pause, during which he lets you go and you very much miss the feeling of his large, warm hand against your skin. “I just don’t want to see a pretty girl like you getting hurt because of something like this. Let me take care of it, okay?”

“O–Okay,” you stammer. Did he just—?

And then he’s out of your room and out of your hair, and you can breathe again. Just for a moment. Just long enough to realize that Bucky Barnes told you you’re pretty. Even if it was just in passing.

Part Three

[the-dead-skwad]

Miss Lestrange Part 3 X Reader X George Weasley

Sorry it’s been a spell ;) I’ve been super busy with my new job and metal health kicking my ass. Also don’t get hung up over the spelling mistakes, my nails are so long and I always miss something out. 

Summary: It’s going to be lonely tis Christmas or so you thought. 

?!? Warning: Slight mention of self harm, Parental abuse. 

Tag : @hopeladybug​ @supernaturalidjitjess​ @til-the-end-of-the-line​

This year had gotten even crazier and it wasn’t even Christmas yet. Umbridge was terrified of you; Not long after your screaming match in her first lesson she called you to her office. She told you you were there to write lines but of course there would be a catch. As you started to write the words formed as scratches on the back of your hand. You looked up at her with her sadistic grin. You glanced back to your hand “Does the ministry approve?”

“Excuse me?” She cleared her throat.

You smiled “That’s what I thought.” You stared straight at her with a smile on your face.

“What are you?” Her grin was gone.

You put the torture quill to the parchment and started to scratch, scribbling a giant bunch of mess, never breaking eye contact.

“Stop it!” She screamed. “Get out!”

You collected your things still smiling. When you finally got to the hallway you stopped. “Owww.. merlin that hurt.” You held on to it with your other hand.

After all that she hadn’t even acknowledge you were even there. Every lesson, if she saw you in the hallways, you were invisible. It suited you fine.

I was approaching Christmas now and you just weren’t feeling it. Everyone would head back to their parents, their family’s have a really nice time and you would roam the empty halls all alone. Some kids would stay but it was no one you knew.

You went to leave the dungeons when Draco stopped you. “How you doing?”

“What do you want Draco?”

“I hear your joining the quidditch team.”

“And what if I am?”

He walked over to the table where there were two large boxes “Mother sent you these.”

“What the hell is that? I don’t need your charity.”

“It’s not charity. She was proud of you making the team, you got brand new kit and the best broom.”

“Oh…” Narcissa was the only person who had looked after you ever “Tell her thank you and that I’m sorry I can’t come home.”

“She understands.” He walked off and you took your stuff to your room.

“What’s that?” Pansy was in your dorm.

“Er Quidditch stuff.”

She pulled a face at you “How did you afford that? Aren’t you like an orphan?”

“Just because my aunt buys me things and can’t stand you doesn’t mean you have to be bitter.” You flashed her a sarcastic smile. “And besides.. my parents are very much alive.” Winking at her made her exit the room, fast.

When you left the dungeon Fred popped up out of no where. “It’s Christmas!” He shouted in your face.

“Fuck Fred! I know.. I’d like to make it to Christmas without having a heart attack.”

He laughed “Sorry, George wants to see you in the astronomy tower.”

“Okay, you know why?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Right..” You looked at him funny “A good one?”

He frowned at you “Is there bad surprises?”

“Well that heart attack you just gave me wasn’t pleasant.”

“Just go!” He pushed you forward.

--

He stood at the rail looking over the grounds. “Hey.” Your soft voice from behind him melted his heart. He turned to look at you “Hey beautiful.”

“Fred said you wanted to see me?”

He leaned in and just millimetres away from your lips he whispered “Always.” Causing your knees to almost buckle. He pulled away making you sad at the lack of contact. “I know you’re not looking forward to Christmas and I thought you could spend Christmas with us.”

You sighed “You know that’s the only thing I want to do but it’s not safe. I’m not putting your family in danger.”

“Shut up for a second.” His abruptness shocked you. “I have something for you.” He handed you a small box.

Inside was a necklace made of a chain and a beautiful crystal. “Oh George, this is stunning. What stone is this?”

“Well that’s the cool thing you see. This stone is enchanted and when wearing it anyone who uses dark magic can’t find you. It’s a protection stone.”

Your mouth dropped open. “So… so I can be with you?”

“And it gets better, I have spoken to my mum. We are staying at the Burrows to collect some things just for the first night and then we’re going to a safer location where the order meets. So you’re even safer.”

“George I don’t think you know what this means to me..” You threw your arms around his neck. “Thank you so much.”

You leaned back and looked at each other “I love you Y/N.”

“I love you George.”

--

Travelling to the burrows made you nervous at first. Every noise you heard your heart jumped. But George was there to squeeze your hand or wrap his arm around you. When you finally arrived looking up at the house your whole body relaxed. It felt like home.

“It’s no Malfoy Manor but it’s home.” Ron smiled at you though the mouth full of food he had some how found.

You smiled at them all “It’s beautiful.”

A small yelp made you jump “You’re home!” You turned to see the happiest woman covered in multi-coloured wool. She ran to the boys and hugged them. “How was the trip?” She turned to Ginny. “You all in one piece?”

“If it wasn’t for Fred’s driving.” Ginny snapped at him. He just shrugged in response.

She looked at you “Oh sweetheart!” She opened up her arms and squeezed you tight “You must be Y/N. How are you feeling deary?”

“Much better now I’m here. Your house is amazing Mrs Weasley.”

“Oh pff please call me Molly. George has told me so much about you.”

“Oh that’s not terrifying.” You could see the look in her eye. All the things she wanted to say to you but didn’t know how. You smiled and gave her a reassuring nod.

She squeezed both your hands “You must be starving.”

The food was incredible. Everyone sat there shovelling it in while all the siblings bickered. You heard Ginny from across the table “Ron I swear if you don’t put your elbows down I’ll tell Hermione you still have a blanky.”

His face turned bright red “No I don’t! And why would I care what she thinks anyway?”

You and George shared a look. Ron pointed a chicken leg at him “I saw that!”

After you had all finished you sat by the fire for a while. They all told stories from when they were children. Like George turning Ron’s chocolate into spiders or when Fred tried to hide the firework he made and blew up the toilet.

Your eyes started to get heavy. “Shall we head up?” George whispered in your ear. You nodded.

As you both walked up the stairs Fred whistled after you receiving the middle finger from you both.

You stood by his bed in just your t-shirt and shorts. He raised his eyebrows at you.

“What?” you said as you tied up your crazy hair into a loose bun.

“I’ve just never seen you like this.” His head propped up by his arm.

“What? Scruffy?”

“No!” He laughed “You know, we’ve just never been allowed in the same room alone like this.” He swung his legs off the bed and sat on the side.

You sat on his knee facing him, your knee’s either side of his legs. “You nervous Georgie?”

He placed his hand on your lower back to keep you steady. He smiled into a kiss “Far from it.”

After a few minutes of kissing you leaned back. He groaned from the lack of contact. “Sorry I gotta pee.”

“Down the stairs next to mum and dads room.”

You did an army salute as you left. The idea of him lying there in just his boxers, waiting for you. You practically leapt down the entire flight of stairs.

Leaving the toilet you could hear raised voices coming from Molly and Arthurs room. You weren’t rude enough to listen to a couples argument but then you heard your name.

“You are not listening to me Molly.”

“I am but you’re talking nonsense.”

“No I’m not.. Did you see her at the table? She can already do things without her wand!”

Hearing them talk about you in a bad way hurt you deep.

“We knew she was going to be powerful. There was no question in that. Arthur she is only a child.”

“How can you trust her? Not only is she powerful she is literally the spit of Belatrix. How can you just let her into our home?”

“You are just paranoid. George trusts her!”

“He is blinded by love! Or by a spell she put on him. I think she should leave.”

Tears started to roll down your cheeks. Maybe he was right. Maybe you should leave, you were selfish to think that you could live a normal life with someone you loved. What you thought you would get married and have children? Live a normal life? You were just kidding yourself. Prolonging the time till your mother got a hold of you again.

As you ran down the stairs you tripped over something making a right noise. You looked up the stairs as Molly Arthur and George ran to the stairs.

Tears blurred your vision as you ripped through the front door. You looked out into the vast fields around you. Without your broom there was no where to really go. Felling started to become overwhelming. You dropped to your knees and screamed. A circle of fire burst around you.

George stood in front of you the flames roaring between you. He looked down at you and noticed your hand wrapped around your necklace. “Y/N stop.. please listen to me.”

You couldn’t hear him over all the voices in your head, all the people telling you you were worthless, a bad guy, the devils daughter, nothing but a traitor, only good for wiping their feet on. You were completely unaware you were pulling on the necklace.

George knew you couldn’t take it off otherwise they would come for you. “Y/N please! Listen to my voice. Just mine.”

Slowly his voice pushed through the noise. Your breathing started to slow.

He got his arm and went to reach forward. “George!” Molly shouted “What are you doing?”

“She won’t hurt me.” He stuck his hand straight through the fire. To him it was almost cold. He stepped through and knelt down in front of you.

Him placing his hand over yours cause your eyes to burst open. “George?”

“Its me. You’re okay.”

As you fell passing out in his arms the fire disappeared. He held onto you tight. Scooping you up into his arms he walked back into the house. He placed you down on the sofa and lit the fire to keep you warm. The rest of the family stood looking at you both.

“Do you have an idea what she has been through?” He voice was sharp but not loud enough to wake you.

“All I said was that I’m not sure after everything that has happened we should trust her.” Arthur stood his ground.

“She doesn’t just burst into a circle of fire because someone doesn’t trust her. I am all she has.. Her own family want her dead and everyone else is too scared of her to even look at her. Do you know how she must feel? Her own mother almost tortured her to death.”

Arthur swallowed hard. “Maybe I was a bit harsh.”

“Maybe?” Ginny looked at him in disbelief.

Molly approached your sleeping body, she moved your hair out your face and stroked it gently. “Maybe she needs the love of a real family.”

George sat on the sofa and pulled you into his body. “That’s all she’s ever wanted.”

Molly smiled at him sweetly “And that’s what you’re going to give her?”

“That and the entire world if she wishes.”

She nodded “Then that’s what we’ll give her. This family.”

[ohpedromypedro]

Pour toi? Toujours.

A/N: This is my first Max Phillips fic and I’m excited to finally get it posted for my fellow Max lovers to read. 😍 In my world, Bloodsucking Bastards ended differently than it did canonically, so most characters are still alive, just vampires. (Except Ted. He’s still dead, but it’s not actually mentioned in the fic. 😏)

word count: 4.4k

pairings/characters: Max Phillips x f!Reader, bout 70% of the characters from the movie (only half have dialogue lol)

warnings: Is a lot an acceptable answer? lmao. uhm in no particular order to how it’s written in the fic; language, smut, mild nudity, public sex, very vocal Max and reader during the sex, possessive/overprotective Max, sleazy jock dude trying to get laid, sexist/homophobic comments from said sleazy guy, character death (guess who?), use of vampire powers, complete mind control, alcohol use, etc.

summary: none, cause I suck at them lmao let’s just say this fic idea came about from one of @a-seeker-of-imagination​‘s and my many thirst conversations about Max. 😘

When Tim suggested a small office staff gathering at some random bar, your immediate response was going to be “hell no” because you did not want to be around your coworkers when they’re intoxicated, seeing as you suffer being around them all day at the office enough as it is, but Max being Max jumped the gun and said “hell yeah let’s do it!” for the both of you. You want to be annoyed, but you love your vampire boyfriend enough not to be annoyed with him for longer than a few lingering moments. If he wants to have fun watching humans get wasted on a Friday night, why not let him have it? If anything you’ll stick right by his side the entire time, not wanting to entertain your coworkers with your presence, maybe only Amanda, Evan, Tim, and Frank. The others, not so much.

“Are you ready, babe?” Max hums when he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle from behind while admiring the view of you in the reflection of the mirror. The dress you chose hugs you in all the right places, accents every one of your best features and the best of all, it’s red just for Max’s viewing pleasure.

You smile when you feel his arms wrap around you, lifting your head a bit to press a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw. “Just gotta throw on some shoes and I’m good to go, handsome.”

“You look sexy,” he sighs, running his hands along your sides while breathing in the scent of your recently shampooed hair.

“Yeah? I was hoping you’d think so,” you tease, turning around in his hold and leaning up to press a deep kiss to his lips. “This is all for you, Phillips. Remember that.”

“How could I forget?” He groans, dropping his hands to give each of your ass cheeks a firm squeeze. “I get to share the same bed as this.”

“Mmm.” You hum, small little smirk on your face from the way he grabs your ass. “If you keep that up, we won’t make it to the bar and you’re the one who wants to go.”

“Can’t help it when you’re donning my favorite dress.” He smirks right back, moving his hands back up to your waist and giving a gentle knead with his thumbs.

“Topped with this necklace and I look like a snack.”

“Oh absolutely, Sweetheart. I could just eat you right up,” he murmurs, leaning close to press his lips to the most sensitive part of your neck, his fangs just barely poking into your skin moments later.

“Max,” you gasp, your still human heart thudding against your chest. You know he’d never do anything to hurt you intentionally, yeah he’s a vampire and one little accidental slip could end in him injecting you with his venom, which you’re not quite ready for just yet since you want to wait for the perfect moment, but your heart is racing for other reasons.

“Mmm I can hear how fast I make your heart beat when I do that, baby… Am I making you nervous?” He teases, pressing his nose against the pulse point of your throat.

“I trust you,” you whisper, willing yourself not to focus on the arousal you feel from the dangerous prick of his fangs to your neck.

“And that’s why I love you.” He pulls back, gazing down at you with a gentle touch to your cheek. “And why I will wait as long as I need to for you to be ready for the night I change you.”

“Oh, Max… I love you so much.” You breathe, leaning up to press another kiss to his lips, both of his hands now cupping your face. “How’d I get so lucky?” You whisper when he presses his forehead to yours, smile wide on his face.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?” He chuckles, gently brushing his thumbs against your cheekbones.

“You? I’m the one with an immortal boyfriend,” you giggle softly, giving your head a small shake.

“And I’m the immortal vampire who found a beautiful young woman worth spending his life with and one who’s so willing to be turned when the time is right.”

“I guess we’re both lucky then, huh?” You bite your lip with a smile, gently running your hands over his tailored chest. “You know what else we are, Mr Phillips?”

“What’s that?” He smiles, lightly brushing his nose against your own.

“Late.”

“Oh shit you’re right,” he chuckles, giving his head a shake as he looks at his watch. “We’re too easily distracted by each other sometimes.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you smirk, pressing a quick, teasing peck to the corner of his mouth before going to the closet to quickly slip on your shoes. “Alright, now I’m ready.”

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

“About time you two got here,” Tim rolls his eyes, assuming that the two of you were busy getting a quick lay in before coming, which oh how wrong he is.

“Didn’t know we had to be here in a specific time frame,” Max tuts in an annoyed manner as he and you approach the side of the bar Tim, Evan, Amanda, Frank, Andrew, Zabeth and a few other new office coworkers are occupying, sort of claiming the area as yours for the time being.

“Don’t listen to Tim. He’s just mad that we decided eight against one to wait until you two got here to order our drinks.” Amanda smiles sweetly at the two of you, moreso genuine to you than to Max, she still doesn’t trust him and she probably never will until you convince her otherwise.

“Well, thank you to everyone besides Tim,” you smile, giving Tim a light teasing tap on the back. “Now, I’m gonna go order myself a drink. Coming, handsome?” You muse to Max, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him with you toward the bar.

“Eager, are we?” He chuckles, settling his hands on your waist from behind after you stop at the bar and wait for the bartender to come over.

“Just dying for a Bloody Mary,” you hum, resting the top of your head against his chest so you can look up at him. Of course he’s smirking.

“What an interesting beverage choice. I wonder what made you choose it.”

“Maybe I like vodka and tomato juice,” you shrug, knowing he’s more referring to the name, but you just love to tease him.

“Mmhm and when’s the last time you drank a Bloody Mary?”

“Uhh…”

“Exactly,” he smirks, playfully nipping at your nose.

“Whatever,” you laugh, giving the bartender a smile when she comes over. “I’ll have a Bloody Mary please.”

“And I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks with a water on the side, thank you.” Max smiles, rubbing his hands over your hips.

“You got it,” she smiles and nods, walking away to go make your drinks.

“So,” you hum, spinning around so you can rub your hands up Max’s chest and fix his tie a bit. “I’ve gotta use the ladies room real quick, could you bring my drink to the table if the bartender’s done before I finish?”

“Of course, beautiful. You know I will either way.”

“I love you, handsome.” You smile, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips before excusing yourself to the ladies room to relieve your bladder.

Amanda’s at the sink washing her hands when you walk in and you give her a small smile before going into one of the small stalls to pee. After wiping and fixing yourself up, you flush the toilet with your foot and go to wash your own hands. She’s still standing there at the mirror when you come out of the stall, applying a small amount of lip gloss to her lips.

“Hey. How’re things with Evan?” You smile, turning the faucet off after rinsing your hands and grabbing some paper towels to dry.

“Good,” she says with enthusiasm. “We worked things out after the success of the Phallicyte presentation and everything just started falling right back into place, where it should be, you know?”

“Yeah,” you smile, giving your head an understanding nod. “I’m glad you both worked things out together and I’m also happy to be able to help keep Max off your back since I know how he was before Tim suggested he hire a personal assistant to “keep him busy”.” You shake your head and laugh softly, looking at her with sincerity. “You don’t have to worry about him anymore, you know. I’m not just his personal assistant anymore, I’ve...fallen so hard for him and he’s willing to wait until I’m ready to turn me into an immortal vampire. That’s not the point, though, my point is that I love him and I’m willing to keep him in line for the sake of the people who work for and with him.”

“I appreciate that. Really. It might be hard to trust him, but I’m willing to try knowing he’s got you to tame him.”

“He needs that human touch and interaction for as long as he can before I’m ready to give it all up to spend eternity with him.” You muse, shrugging your shoulders as you take a quick glimpse in the dimly lit mirror to make sure your own makeup is tip top. “Plus, girl’s gotta stick by each other’s sides in every situation.”

“You got that right,” she laughs, the two of you moving to exit the bathroom.

The bar is a little busier now, more people than there were five minutes ago. Your gaze searches the area for Max and you spot him at the table setting your drinks down. You smile and are about to start heading that way when an obnoxiously tall figure steps in front of you blocking your view and your way to the table.

“Well hello gorgeous.”

You look up and meet the gaze of some clearly 21 year old college jock, your eyes rolling back as you take a step away from him. You don’t have time for dumb college guys’ drunken stupors.

“Way out of your league, bud. Nice try though.” You smile tightly, moving to walk around him but he only steps to the side to prevent you from walking away.

“Come on, pretty girl. You can’t come to a bar dressed like that and not expect someone to pick you up.” He smirks, looking you up and down as though you’re nothing but a piece of meat.

“That’s extremely sexist and disgusting,” Amanda chimes in, moving to stand by your side. “Not everyone dresses like this to be picked up by sleazy boys like you. Leave her alone.”

“No one was talking to you, dyke.” He glares at Amanda and you can only gasp with disgust at this asshole’s words.

“Dude, your parents raised you the absolute wrong way. You’ll never find a woman to marry with an attitude and sick personality like that.” You snap, shoving him away from you. “Can’t you see I’m clearly not interested? Plus, my boyfriend is right over there and he’s well on the extreme side of dangerous, so watch what you do and say or it’ll cost you.”

“Oh come on, you think that’s going to work on me? Trying to scare me with your “dangerous” boyfriend? Pathetic. Come on,” he says, stepping toward you again and this time grabbing your waist and pulling you against him, his hand travelling down toward your ass. “I can show you a better time than this imaginary dangerous boyfriend of yours.” His hand squeezes your ass as he smirks down at you.

Max looks over at just the right moment to see the guy grab and violate you and instantly his eyes are filled with murder. Who dares put their hands on his woman like that? And judging by the look on your face and the way you shove the guy away and slap him, just shows Max that you aren’t enjoying this guy’s presence very much, so immediately he starts stomping toward the three of you.

You see Max coming the moment he moves away from the table, can see the rage and hatred in his eyes for the guy who not only put his hands on you, but spoke such vile, offensive and sexist things to you and Amanda. You bite your lip and step back, pulling Amanda with you until the both of you are leaning against the wall. The jock guy goes to move toward you, but Max speaks up.

“Hey asshole!” He growls, earning the guy’s attention now. “You put your filthy little human fingers on my girlfriend and think you’re gonna get away with it?” His tone is dangerous, obviously, and the speed his vampire ability has him approaching the guy with barely gives him time to react. Max’s fangs are already showing and before the guy can even attempt to make a run for it, Max is already grabbing him and going right to snapping his neck.

Both you and Amanda watch with wide eyes as the jock’s lifeless body drops to the floor of the bar, mysteriously the only gazes on the four of you being the eyes of your fellow company. No one else has any clue as to what just happened, powers of being a vampire, you suppose. Max’s chest is heaving and quickly you rush to gently lay your hand on his chest, the other raising to touch his cheek.

“Max… It’s okay. I’m okay. Breathe for me, baby.” You murmur, touching your forehead to his own.

“I need fresh air,” he sighs, taking your hand and pulling you outside with him, leading you to a darker part of the building toward the back so he can clear his mind. There’s a few long moments of silence before he speaks again, his words a low growl filled with lust now. “I can smell you.”

“What?” You whisper, your cheeks turning a bright red from his sudden change in tone.

You can’t lie, watching Max snap that guy’s neck without a second thought turned you on more than you care to admit and it’s the overprotective manner in which he did it that has your pheromones so noticeable to him.

“I can smell how wet you are, how turned on me snapping that prick’s pathetic little neck made you.” He presses his nose to your throat, his body caging you against the building.

“Max,” you moan, your fingers carding through his hair while you give your head a tilt to the side. “Fuck, it was just so hot...watching you kill a man for me, over me.”

“You are mine,” he growls.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Like I said earlier, this is all for you, Max Phillips.”

“No one will ever dare put their hands on you again.” His hands squeeze your hips before moving up toward your breasts where he gently massages them through the fabric of your dress, earning himself soft moans from you in response.

“Please take me right here, Max… Please, I need you.” Your voice is soft, but the begging is powerful in your tone and hearing it is pleasant to his ears.

“I know,” he smirks, capturing your lips for a hard kiss while sliding the hem of your dress up, revealing your lack of panties beneath when his hand moves to rub over your drenched folds. “Fuck, you didn’t tell me you weren’t wearing panties.”

“You didn’t ask,” you moan into his mouth, your own hands dropping to start freeing his cock from its confinements. “I figured we’d end up like this at some point.”

“Oh?” He chuckles, hooking one of your legs around his waist and easily sliding two of his fingers into your drenched core, giving them several curls against your spongy walls.

“Y-- fuck,” you moan, your walls clenching around his digits when they curl inside you. “Yes.”

“Such a good girl you are, huh baby?” He rasps, groaning when your hand reaches into his now unbuttoned pants and gives his cock a firm squeeze.

“Only for you,” you murmur while you pull his entire length free, giving him a few hard pumps as you move to kiss him even harder.

“Fuck,” he groans into the kiss, his fingers promptly pulling out of your heat and replacing them with the head of his cock, pushing his hips forward so your walls engulf each thick inch of him.

“Oh Max,” you moan, jumping up so you can wrap your other leg around his middle and allow him access to your ass to hold you up against the wall while he fucks into you.

“That’s right, baby...only my name leaves that pretty mouth of yours, no other man could ever compare to how good I make you feel.” His movements still once he’s buried completely inside of you, your walls clenching around him like a vice while they adjust to the way he stretches you. God, his cock still takes getting used to.

“Move,” you finally whine out after he stays sheathed inside of you a few moments too long, rocking yourself against him for some sort of friction. “Please fuck me, so anyone that’s in hearing distance knows who I belong to.”

“Good fucking girl,” Max groans, kissing you hard once more while starting to thrust in and out of you at a rapid pace, your arms thrown around his neck to keep yourself grounded as he fucks and publicly claims you against the back wall outside the bar. “Want to hear you scream my name into the night sky, baby...” he murmurs as he presses his lips to your ear, forcing his length deeper and harder into you.

“Max! Oh yes, like that!” You cry out, head now thrown back against the wall behind you. Max takes the chance to start kissing along your throat, teasingly nipping at the sensitive skin with his fangs, knowing how much you get off on it despite the risks. “Oh fuck yes, don’t stop!”

“Wasn’t going to,” he growls, giving your ass a light slap while continuing to hold you up against the wall, the force of his thrusts visible in the way your breasts bounce beneath the fabric of your dress. “You feel so fucking good, Sweetheart… There’s no way I’m stopping yet.”

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck,” you moan louder the deeper and harder he sends his cock, your hands moving to tangle your fingers through his hair and give a few hard pulls. “Mmmmm you feel so f-fucking good inside of me, Max...stretch me in all the best ways.”

“That’s right,” he groans, burying his face against the pulse point of your throat and sucking a nice dark bruise there, marking you for others to see in a temporary way until he can finally mark you with his fangs. “Only I fit this perfectly inside of you, I’m the exact puzzle piece your sweet little pussy needs.”

“Oh yes,” you softly groan from the way he marks your throat, eyes slowly rolling toward the back of your head as your impending orgasm starts to creep up on you. “Mmmm Max! I-I’m...fuck, gonna cum soon...”

“Yeah? Gonna drench each inch of my cock, baby? Show the world just how good I fuck my girl?” One of his hands moves to start rubbing fast circles on your clit, his other hand still gripped hard on your ass.

“Yes!” You cry out with a hard clench around his length from the added stimulation to your bundle of nerves, only spurring his rubs to be even harder from how damn good you feel wrapped around him. His rubs to your clit, along with his continued harsh and deep thrusts into you, pushes you right toward your orgasm and soon you’re screaming out his name with another tight squeeze around him. “Oh Max!”

“Fuck. That’s it, baby...cum for me, all for me. My good girl,” he praises in your ear, licking and sucking at your earlobe while he fucks you through your orgasm.

“Please fill my sweet little pussy with your cum, Max! Want your seed coating my thighs by the time we get back inside…”

“Fuck,” he growls, moving to kiss you hard while starting to thrust so relentlessly that he has to swallow all your screams as he fills you with his cum. “Take every last drop and let it be a reminder that no one will ever have the pleasure of filling you the way I do.”

“I don’t want anyone else. Want you, only you... Only need you Max Phillips,” you groan in between kisses, your body slowly overcoming the aftereffects of the waves of pleasure your orgasm washed onto you. “I love you so much.” You breathe, resting your forehead against Max’s as he gradually slows his thrusts after filling you with a thick load of his cum.

“Je t’aime plus que tu ne le sauras jamais.” He says it so fluidly, as though French is the only language he speaks in this moment, and it makes you smile so wide that he knows you love it when he does. translation (per google translate lmao): I love you more than you’ll ever know.

“Say something else in French, something romantic.” You murmur, sighing softly when he slowly pulls his length from inside you and sets you back onto your feet.

“Je veux que tu deviennes ma femme avant de te transformer...je veux savourer ton humanité aussi longtemps que je peux.” He kisses you again, his hands fixing the hem of your dress so it looks undisturbed.

“Touché, mister romantic over here.” You smile against his lips, helping tuck his cock back in his pants and zipping him back up. The things lovers do for another after a nice quickie.

“I said,” he chuckles, holding you by the waist and gazing down at you with a large smile. “I want you to become my wife before I turn you. I want to savor your humanity for as long as I can.”

“Really?” You whisper. “Oh Max, I… You’re actually asking me to be your wife?” You bite your lip, gazing up at him with wide eyes.

“Would you marry me first?”

“Yes,” you breathe, nodding your head fervently. “Absolutely one million times yes.”

“Then yes, I am asking you to be my wife.” He whispers, kissing you one more time before pulling back and taking both your hands in his own. “I...already had a ring made for you and everything. It’s back home in my drawer.”

“You had a ring made for me?” You murmur in awe, looking up at your now fiancé with admiration.

“It not only symbolizes our eternal bond to one another, but also has the power to protect you from sunlight. My ring will do the same.”

“Oh Max Phillips, you are such a romantic.” You giggle, giving him one more quick but passionate kiss before pulling back and leading him back toward the front entrance of the bar.

“Pour toi? Toujours.”

Your smile is wide when you and Max walk back over to the table where your fellow associates are waiting for you, their eyes sort of wide with questions. You only shake your head and move to slide in the large booth next to Amanda.

“Everything’s okay.” You reassure, a smile still on your face. “Actually, it’s perfect.” You look over at Max when he slides in beside you, his arm slipping right around your waist. “Max and I are perfect.”

“Sooo we’re not gonna talk about the dead guy over there?” Tim questions nonchalantly, his thumb pointing in that direction. Evan slaps his hand down.

“What’s there to talk about?” Max inquires, grabbing his water and taking a quick sip. “Guy put his hands on my girl without consent, he deserved it.”

“Amen,” you and Amanda say it at the same time, both of you giving each other a smile.

“He also said some questionably offensive and sexist things, so yeah, he deserved it.” Amanda shrugs, sipping on her fruity cocktail.

 “Are we also not going to talk about how absolutely no one in this bar saw a thing?” Andrew’s eyebrows are raised and Max only laughs.

“Mind control, duh. You’re a vampire now, you should know that.”

“Right,” he nods, realizing now that Max had everybody under his control. “How’d you manage to get the whole bar to pay no mind to any of that?”

“Lots of practice and loads of charm,” Max smirks, rubbing his thumb along your upper arm.

“Did you use it on Y/N to make her fall in love with you?”

“Tim!” Evan scolds, giving his best friend a “what the fuck?” look.

“No,” you and Max say in unison, earning each other’s gaze and a smile.

“I would never use it on her like that, never against her will,” Max shakes his head as he looks back at Tim.

“And I pretty much fell for him before he even took his first glance at me the day I started working as his personal assistant,” you admit with a blush, nestling yourself closer against Max’s side. “There was just a certain aura about him that I felt when I first saw him through his office windows...and I knew then that this job would change everything for me. I was right.”

“She changed my world and it’s why I’m making her my wife.” Max says it so proudly that you can’t help but smile up at and kiss him.

“Is that why you two were taking so long outside? Being all lovey dovey and getting engaged?” Tim asks, giving his eyes a small role.

“You could say that, yeah.” You smile, taking Max’s freehand and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Contrary to popular belief, Max is quite the romantic.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Evan mumbles and Amanda gently elbows him in the side.

“Say what you want, Evan, but it won’t change the way I love the woman I’m going to spend eternity with.” Max retorts, pressing a gentle kiss to your hair.

“Je t’aime,” you smile up at him.

“Je t’aime pour toujours, chérie,” he muses, lightly rubbing his nose against the tip of yours.

“Oh gag.”

“Shut up Tim!”

You laugh at all the simultaneous outbursts at Tim, shaking your head with an amused smile as you gaze up at Max and gently rest your hand against his cheek.

“Let’s go home and celebrate, my love. Just you and me.”

“Sounds like a plan to me, baby.”

Everything taglist: @halefirewarrior​ @takemepedropascal​ @wildcard566​ @readsalot73​ @talesfromtheguild​ @msmona​ @oberynispunk​ @whiskeyxinxaxteacup​ @pedrosdoll​ @ah-callie​

Max Phillips taglist: @a-seeker-of-imagination​ (if you’d like to be added, let me know! 💕

[imaginetonyandbucky]

The Buy In

Chapter 9: Revelations

by @dracusfyre

Since he knew he wouldn't be coming back to this apartment, provided as part of his cover, he packed up everything he couldn't bear to lose. There was one goodbye that he wanted to make before he disappeared, even though he knew it was risky. He was going to miss KT; ironically, he was the best partner Bucky had ever had and he would consider him a friend if it hadn't been for all of the, you know, lying. As he walked to his usual morning meetup, he had been thinking of various ways to say he was leaving and coming up with reasons why when he realized that there was a tall skinny black guy standing in KT’s spot, looking at his watch like he was waiting for someone.

“Blue Eyes?” The man said, looking up at Bucky, and Bucky nodded. “I’ll be working with you today, name’s John Johnson.” As Bucky stared at him in disbelief, the man sighed. “I swear to God I was born with it. Just call me JJ.”

“Ok. So where’s KT?” Bucky asked, and his stomach dropped when he saw the grim look on the man’s face.

“You didn’t hear? KT got shot last night on his way home from work,” JJ said, voice tight with anger. “Shot twice in the back. Cop said it was self-defense and that he had meth on him. He’s in intensive care right now.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Meth? No way,” Bucky said, stunned. “That’s bullshit.”

“Oh, we know.  Clearly a setup. The Boss just found out about it this morning and he is livid.”

Bucky started to ask if they knew who did it, but then his thoughts flashed back to what he’d told Stark weeks ago: those two won’t give up until they get back at the person who embarrassed them. And he knew exactly what had happened. “I want to see him,” Bucky said.

“Who, KT? They are only allowing family, which, you know,” JJ grimaced. “He doesn’t really have.”

“Right.” Bucky paced away, scrubbing his hands over his face. “What’s Stark doing about it?”

JJ shrugged. “He did say that no one was to go after the cop though. No vigilante shit. He was going to take care of the bastard himself.”

Bucky stared out over the street, busy with morning traffic. Where a few minutes ago there had been resigned determination, there was a big empty space; he'd felt nervous before but now he was completely calm. The top of his head and the tips of his fingers felt hot, though, and he knew that this calm wasn't going to last. “I gotta go,” he said, turning on his heel.

“You dodging out of work? Boss ain’t gonna like that!” JJ called after him as he strode away.

“Tell him he can’t fire me, I quit,” Bucky called back, not missing a step. He was halfway down the sidewalk when someone grabbed his arm and pulled him up short.

"Boss said you and KT were tight and warned me you might do something foolish," JJ said. "He said you needed to trust him to make it right."

Bucky shrugged off JJ's arm. "I'm not going after the cop that did this," he said impatiently. "Not yet, anyway. This is personal."

"Whatever you say, man," JJ said, holding his hands up and backing off. 

The calm lasted for the whole trip back to his home precinct, but behind it he could feel his anger building. It was a brittle, temporary, dangerous sort of calm, like the way that water drained away from the beach before the tsunami hit. He threw open the doors to the building and strode up to the desk officer. 

"I need to talk to Captain Pierce right now," he said evenly, and the desk officer frowned.

"He's not-"

"Tell him it's Detective James Barnes, and it's about Tony Stark," he said. "He'll make time for me."

 He crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, making it clear that he had no intention of moving until the desk officer did what he asked. Sure enough, he watched as the officer made a phone call, then buzzed him in to the bull pen. He made his way through the officers without acknowledging any of the greetings from the people he knew, too intent on reaching Pierce. When he got to his captain's office, he had enough self control to close the door firmly instead of slamming.

Pierce frowned at him. "Barnes, what the hell are you-"

"What in the hell were Officers Rumlow and Rollins doing in Stark's territory?"

Pierce's eyebrows drew together. "What?"

"Last night, Rumlow, maybe Rollins too, shot my primary contact in Stark's organization in the back. So I'm asking you: what. The fuck. Were they doing anywhere in that borough, much less that neighborhood?"

"Watch your tongue, Barnes," Pierce rumbled. "I don't answer to you."

"Fine, I'll tell you. It was a hit," Bucky said bluntly. "The guy who was shot is the one that humiliated Rumlow on camera a few months ago. Remember? Went viral on TikTok and the department had to issue a press release about it? He should have lost his badge for that, but instead he was back out on the streets and looking for revenge!" Bucky realized he was shouting as Pierce's face grew even darker. 

"You better be careful what you say, son. Rumlow said he was responding to a call and the suspect was acting erratic, like he was high, and got violent. Rumlow defended himself."

"That's bullshit! I want to know why he was cleared for active duty!"

Pierce stood and slammed his hands down on his desk. "You need to calm the fuck down. For your information, there was a hearing, the union got involved, and the panel decided there wasn't any evidence of wrongdoing. He was cleared for active duty two weeks ago."

Bucky gaped at that, speechless. "No evidence of wrongdoing? He was caught on camera soliciting a bribe and demanding sex from prostitutes! And now he tried to murder someone! What is the department going to do about this?"

"There were no witnesses, and Rumlow said he was defending himself," Pierce said again, enunciating carefully so that Bucky would get the message that the conversation was over. "Unless you have evidence to prove otherwise, there's nothing to do about it."

"Then I quit."

It was Pierce's turned to be stunned speechless. "Quit? You can't quit, you are in the middle of the highest profile investigation this precinct has ever been a part of!"

"This precinct, and the entire NYPD, can go fuck itself," Bucky bit off. "I refuse to work for an organization that tolerates rapists and murderers like Rumlow."

Bucky turned and left, swinging Pierce's door open hard enough that it slammed into the wall and bounced off. The silence of the bull pen as he stormed out was satisfying; he wanted to yell and kick things and cause general mayhem but had too much dignity to make an ass of himself. He got back out on the sidewalk and took a deep breath of cold fall air, feeling like a weight had fallen from his shoulders. He put his hands in his pockets and felt his phone, which, like the apartment, had been provided for the assignment. He took it out and scrolled through the coded notes and surreptitious pictures he'd taken, weeks worth of information on Stark's network. It wasn't the same kind of hot lead like the information about Tony's AI, but it was still more bricks for the case the feds were building against Tony.

Bucky turned it over in his hands thoughtfully. Then he threw it under the wheels of a bus as it pulled up to curb, smiling when he heard it crunch, and started making his way back to Manhattan.

“Hey, copper,” Tony said warily, after his guards waved him through. The garage was echoingly empty, cleaned out of even the tool cabinets and work tables. Tony had been sitting at a card table frowning over a laptop when Bucky came in. "JJ said you quit." 

“First, I’m not a cop,” Bucky said with emphasis. "But I might know some stuff that a cop could theoretically know, if you're interested. Second, I did quit. I don't want to be your employee anymore," he said, willing Tony to understand what he was trying to say. "I'm a free agent now. Third, I'm in. All the way in. I wanna hear about the buy-in."

It took a moment for Tony to realize what he was trying to say, but once he did a smile bloomed on his face. "So you figured out what you wanted?"

"Yeah," Bucky said softly, echoing the smile. "Yeah, I did." He leaned over the table to kiss the smile on Tony's face -

"Oh hell, no," someone barked from a few feet away. Tony jumped and immediately looked guilty; Bucky looked up and saw Rhodes coming towards them, looking thunderous. "What did I say, Tony?"

"Rhodey, honey bear," Tony started, scrambling to his feet. "Listen-"

"I said don't sleep with the undercover cop,"  Rhodes said, pointing a finger at Rhodey. "Don't." 

"Yes, I know, but-" Tony started to retreat in the face of Rhodes' righteous fury.

"Wait, you knew I was an undercover cop?" Bucky said in disbelief.

They both stopped and stared at him, then glanced at each other. "Well, yeah," Tony said slowly. "I even said so when we first met."

"But - but," Bucky sputtered. "But you let me work for you!"

"Yeah?"

"Why?" 

At this point Tony looked at Rhodes for reinforcement, but the man shook his head and backed away. "I'm not getting in the middle of this."

Tony turned back to Bucky. "Well, I, um..."

"Thought you were cute," Rhodes called out from across the room.

"I thought you weren't getting in the middle of this!" Tony shouted back. Bucky was staring at them with a sort of bemused hysteria. This whole time, Tony knew he was a cop? And hung out with him anyway? Slept with him anyway? He couldn't decide if he should be flattered, furious, or shake Tony for being so goddamn reckless, an impulse he shared with Rhodes apparently. "Seriously, though," Tony said, face sober. "I had a good feeling about you, and I wanted to keep an eye on you."

Bucky narrowed his eyes at him. "You took me to the Policeman's Ball," he accused.

Tony laughed and then had the grace to look abashed. "Yeah." 

"Keep your enemies close, is that it?" Bucky said with a snort, trying to smother a smile. Tony looked so earnest it was hard to be mad; after all, Tony was right, he had pegged Bucky for a cop from day one.   

"You're not supposed to keep them that close," Rhodes said, and they both turned to glare at him.

"Let's have a fresh start," Tony said, returning Bucky's smile. He held out his hand. "Hi. I'm Tony Stark."

"James Barnes," Bucky said, shaking his hand. "My friends call me Bucky."

----------

A/N: If you are enjoying this story, come find me over at @marveltrumpshate​ where I will be participating in auctioning off TWO fanfics! One auction is a fic with art (with @massivespacewren​ ) and the other is a solo fic. All the money goes to a good cause of your choosing! Hope to see you there! 

[babbushka]

MaY i amend and resubmit: Flips wife getting possessive and very publicly staking her claim because the new rookie is trying to seduce her husband? Just ignore me if the idea is garage 😂

“Hey Jimmy, Ron!” You greet your friends upon entering the lobby of the station. “You seen my man?”

It’s lunch time at the station for Flip, or at least, coming up on the end of lunch time. Normally you’re there at the top of the hour, but there’s only twenty minutes left on his break and you’re looking around the bullpen to see if you can find him loitering around, waiting for you near the lobby in that way he sometimes does.

You’ve got the baby on your hip, who is entirely still snuggly and yawning from just having woken up from his nap, and your bag over your shoulder which holds the lunches you packed so lovingly for Flip, lunch that he’s now going to have to scarf down if he doesn’t want to get in trouble.

Jimmy comes over to you and happily takes the kid from your arms and kisses you on the cheek, letting you stretch your muscles out and re-adjust the strap of the bag over your shoulder. The baby fusses for all of two seconds at the shift from being in your arms to his, but then once he recognizes Jimmy and Ron he’s all smiles.

“Hi sweetheart, hey bud!” He’s very sweet in the way he talks to your baby, always so eager to be the best uncle he can be, before walking with you to the detective units, which operate out of a separate office in the station than the main bullpen. “He’s getting mic’d up in one of the back rooms.”

“You’re not doing it?” You ask the boys with a quirked eyebrow.

Jimmy and Flip and Ron were the three musketeers around the station, ever since the Klan case went so well. They all usually stuck together and worked together on cases, including doing all the set-up. You frowned for a moment, because you didn’t know that Flip was planning on going undercover today at all, and he’s pretty good about mentioning that.

“It’s not for real, we got a new recruit and the rookie’s gotta learn how to do it, that’s all.” Ron catches the look on your face and explains after he too kisses your cheek in greeting, making you feel ten times better.

“Oh good for him.” You smile, glad that Flip is being a good detective and being a helper.

“Her.” Ron corrects you, making your eyebrows shoot up.

“Her?” You ask in disbelief, shocked and proud in an excited way, a very happy way. The station was slowly but surely catching up with the times, and it was about fucking time that a woman was hired in a capacity other than a secretary. You wanted to take credit for it, being so annoying and badgering Bridges about pushing for more equality, but you knew this was something bigger than yourself.

Still you were smiling so wide, enough that the baby was making little happy noises and reaching for you to share in the excitement.

“Her.” Jimmy nods, patting the baby on the back and getting him to not be such a wiggle worm.

“Good for her!” You want to go meet her, want to congratulate her for being the first woman in the narcotics unit, but Ron puts a hand on your arm to stop you for a moment.

“There’s a bit of a problem though.” He says, and you frown.

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” You ask, curious.

Jimmy and Ron exchange a glance, a silent debate of who is going to be the one to tell you, when finally Ron gives in since he was the one who brought it up in the first place.

“She doesn’t seem to be able to take a hint.” He says, clearing his voice, and your good spirits drop into aggravation. 

“Which back room?” You ask, already forming a little plan.

She’s a pretty young thing, you’re annoyed to see. Long red hair feathered out like Farrah Fawcett that she keeps tossing out of her face in an attempt to catch your husband’s attention. You watch for a little while through the strip of window in the door of one of the back interrogation rooms where the detectives like to change into their undercover outfits, and your blood would be boiling.

It would be, if Flip were any level of interested at all, which bless him, he isn’t. He’s not even looking at her, he’s reaching over to fiddle with some of the tape, not making eye contact and certainly not indulging in her conversation.

You open the door quietly, hanging in the frame of it for a moment.

“Jesus you’re fit.” She says, her voice breathy and performative as she takes the tape from Flip’s reluctant hands, and presses the small mic to his chest, “You must work out like, what? Twice a week? Three times?”

“Something like that.” Your husband mutters, and you smirk because you can swear you see him rolling his eyes.

“Make sure the tape doesn’t cover the mic otherwise there’s no point.” You speak up, startling the two of them.

The rookie is defensive, and she crosses her arms, sour that you’ve interrupted the moment that will never happen.

“Who are you?” She snaps, before getting mildly pushed aside by your over-eager husband, who stands up from where he’s sitting on the table to get his arms around you.

“Hi ketsl.” He gives you a shy smile, ducks down to kiss your cheeks nose chin face.

“How’s my man?” You laugh, cupping his cheeks in your own hands, pulling him in for a proper smooch right on the lips, right in front of this girl.

“Better now that you’re here.” He hums, leaning down for another one, and another one, and another one, his hands smoothing down your back, roaming down down down to your ass to give it a good squeeze and make you giggle against his lips.

You’re both being a little mean, you know, putting on this show right in front of this girl. But Flip was your husband, and he was clearly uncomfortable by these advances, advances that she should know better – for a lot of reasons – than to try and push.

So with Flip practically glued to you and your arms looped around his neck, you spare her a glance.

“You have to go check to make sure the mic is working.” You say, and you could practically see the embarrassment and realization in her face from how she screwed up.

“How do I do that?” She asks, her arms still crossed, although now she knows better than to be so snippy with you.

“There’s a pair of headphones set up to a tape recorder, go find it and listen in. Jimmy will help you with the signal.” You answer her, returning your attention back to Flip, back to his soft brown eyes and his big nose that’s rubbing against your cheek, coaxing a dimple out of your smile.

She doesn’t say anything on her way out, and you should stop there, but you find that you don’t actually want to. Flip knows exactly what you’re doing, and he plays into it too – although he’s entirely genuine when he steadies your face in his hands and presses his forehead against yours.

“I missed you.” He says, grouchy at the time. With this additional delay, there really wasn’t much time for anything, and you wondered if you could sweet-talk Bridges into giving him an extended lunch, or at least into letting you stay for a while if you’re not too much of a distraction.

Everyone always liked to joke how it was such a wonder that you and Flip ever got anything done, with how fucking sappy and horny you are for each other, but the reality of it was that your man was much more productive when you were around because he’s a total show-off and wants to impress you with all the cool things he does at the station.

“I know, I’m sorry honey I would have come sooner but the baby went down for his nap late.” You explain, and he nods in understanding.

“You’re here now though.” He says, like this is some great relief on his tired bones, like you are the balm that soothes his soul, and you are. You know you are.

“I am here.” You nod, walking him back towards the steel table of the interrogation room. You sit on the table and spread your legs so he can step between them, knowing fully well that the rookie must be listening in now You lower your voice and spread your palms over Flip’s muscular chest, “And I am in sore need of a kiss.”

“Just a kiss?” He asks, devious, as his hands work their way into your blouse, cupping one of your breasts and making you sigh.

No one would see, if the two of you got up to anything in here. There was the window on the door yes, but no one comes back this way, and besides, everyone’s on lunch still for another couple minutes.

It wasn’t a long time, but it was enough time to indulge in one another a little bit – and to prove a point.

“Oh Flip,” You sigh, not entirely dramatically, as you push your chest into his palm more fully, expanding your rib cage with your deep breaths, “I’m so glad you’re mine.”

“All yours ketsl, only for you.” He nods, and you smile shyly at him because you can tell in his voice that’s not something he’s saying just because, that’s something he’s saying because he means it.

You kiss him then, because you have to. You simply have to kiss him and hold him close and let yourself get lost in his embrace. His tongue slides against yours slowly, purposefully, thoughtfully. He knows how to suck just enough on your lips and how to run his teeth along the edge of your kiss-swollen mouth, knows how to grip your jaw just so, how to squeeze and pinch at your tits enough to make you moan for him.

And you do, you do moan for him. Soft sounds in the back of your throat are the only things that cut through the noise of panting breaths from both your lungs, breathing into one another’s mouths making yourselves dizzy dizzy dizzy. You smile against him, can’t get enough of him, can’t stop making out with him.

His hands are busy with your body and yours wind into his hair, comb it carefully into place where you blow-dried it only a few hours ago. You could understand why this girl was fawning all over him – he’s so fucking handsome. Too handsome for his own good sometimes, you think as you chuckle to yourself and kiss him back, passionate and hot and heavy.

The firmness, the solidness of his body is so appealing. His white undershirt is just the right amount of tight to show off how sturdy he is, how his pecs are so broad and his neck is so thick. His thumb brushes over your nipple again and you gasp, the two of you chuckling against each other’s lips until he pulls his hand away, knowing that if he gets you any more worked up he’ll probably wind up fucking you right there – and that isn’t part of the free show that this girl gets.

Speaking of, the two of you slow things down, until your breathing is even once again and he’s buttoning up your blouse at the same time that you fix the buttons on his flannel. You’re both flushed and in good moods once again, and he helps you hop off the table, kisses you once more for good measure.

“How’s that signal rookie?” Flip asks right into the mic, and you bite your smile to keep from laughing right in her ear.

And when the poor girl squeaks out an, it’s good, from the other side of the thick metal door, Flip takes off the mic and unclips it from the battery pack in his pocket, and the two of you can’t help but grin at one another.

“Let’s have some lunch.” You offer, not wanting to forget about the bag left on his desk or your friends entertaining the baby.

He nods and opens the door for you, the two of you a perfect picture of composure. You pass the girl on your way to his desk, and she ducks her head in embarrassment. You don’t think you’ll be bothered with her again, hopefully now she’ll learn how to take a hint.

[dindjarindiaries]

from the cliche prompts list may i request 29 + 50? :O I can kinda see it working for both Javi and Din..I can't choose! thanks for taking requests, they're really fun to read!

I’ve decided I’m going to do one for Javier and the other for Din. Since the helmet doesn’t come off, I’ll do 29 for Javier and 50 for Din! I hope this works. Din’s will be in another post, and I’ll link that below!

character: Javier Peña

prompt: 29. You’re leaving for something dangerous and I can’t help but kiss you (via this list of clichés)

note: translations included at the bottom

warnings: swearing, fluff

rating: R

masterlist

Your chest feels heavy as you watch Javier urgently collect his necessary belongings from the office, starting with his gun. Even though it’s part of the job, one that you’ve both had for quite some time now, it doesn’t make you feel any better about what Javier’s going into.

You’ve been with the DEA for many years, and you were stationed in Medellín around the same time as Steve. At first, Javier was not pleased to have not one, but two new partners to share his work with. He did, however, warm up to you both quickly, no matter how many times his snarky ass might’ve tried to convince you otherwise.

You’ve both grown exceptionally close because of the free time you spend together. Your apartment is in the same building as Steve and Javier’s, which enables you to run into them often. Since Steve has Connie, you and Javier are left on your own to make company of each other. Whenever Javier can be lured out of the office or doesn’t have an informant to “meet” with, you both try to spend your lonely nights just hanging out with some beers and casual conversations. Sometimes those conversations become deep, but that’s the farthest you’ve ever gone in terms of intimacy. Nothing else has ever escalated, nor do you expect it to—regardless of how badly you want it to.

You still find yourself wondering if Javier has any of those same, softer feelings towards you. You’ve noticed that he hasn’t commented on receiving tips from informants lately, meaning that he hasn’t been seeing them. Instead, he’s been able to spend a few more nights trying to de-stress with you and sometimes Steve, even getting out to the bars more often than you all used to. This was, however, before this week, when work started cracking down even harder than usual. And it was all because you felt as if you were finally pinpointing Escobar’s location.

Now, you have the tip. It’s come from a rogue double agent of Escobar’s, who didn’t get their fair cut and decided to snitch. They told you the location of Escobar’s current hideout—warning you that it’s heavily guarded. This could mean a bloodbath to whoever tries to invade it, and lucky for you, Javier was going to be one of those people. You and Steve are staying behind, since Carrillo’s leading the mission and he can only bring along one DEA agent. Naturally, he’s picked the one he trusts the most. You’re not offended by his choice, just worried for the one who’s actually going.

Javier’s just finished strapping on his bulletproof vest—another sight that makes your heart sink even more—as he looks between you and Steve. “Listen,” he begins, his tone revealing his urgency. “If you two hear anything else, radio us right away. That means anything good or bad.”

You nod, knowing that’s all you can do at the moment, as Steve waves a dismissive hand. “Yeah, yeah, we know how to do our fuckin’ jobs, Peña,” Steve quips. “Just go get Escobar.”

Javier chuckles, giving Steve’s shoulder a friendly pat. He does the same to you, but leaves his hand there for a moment longer, his dark eyes sparkling with an unreadable emotion. Your head swims at the horrifying thoughts that enter it. “Please be careful, Javi,” you manage, hoping you don’t sound as desperate as you feel.

“I will,” Javier assures you, his raspy voice sounding a step softer as he addresses you. “I’ve got shit to come back to, after all.”

You chuckle, watching as he finally releases your shoulder and begins to hurry out of the building. Your eyes follow him the whole way, unable to let him go completely. What if he doesn’t make it, your mind thinks treacherously, and I never get to tell him how I feel? Your heart aches at the thought, and a strong urge to follow him tugs at you viciously. You don’t even realize Steve’s started talking until you hear his voice calling your name.

“Hello?” Steve calls, causing you to whip your head around to face him. “Were you listening to anything I just said?” You don’t answer, instead looking back to where you were before. All you can do then is stand up from your chair, heading towards the direction Javier’s just gone in. You hear Steve stand up after you. “Wait! Where the hell are you going?”

“I’ll be right back!” you assure him, jogging now as you run to hopefully get to Javier in time. Your body is on autopilot, letting your heart guide you instead of your mind. The thought you’d had before stays at the forefront of your mind, leading you to reach a full-on sprint as you dodge around unsuspecting personnel all the way.

Finally, you see Carrillo’s trucks set up outside the embassy, his men loading them up and some already getting inside of them. Carrillo’s directing them, and you sigh in relief as you see Javier just starting to walk towards them.

“Javi!” you exclaim, continuing to run in his direction. He turns around quickly, lifting an eyebrow as he sees you approaching hurriedly. “Wait!”

“What is it?” Javier asks once you’ve reached him, studying your flustered appearance. “I don’t have much time.”

You simply stand there and catch your breath, staring into Javier’s gaze with desperation. Now that you’re here, you have no idea what to say—but the visions of all the things that could go wrong and all the regrets you’d have for saying nothing are still haunting you. You try a few times, but whenever you open your mouth, no words come out.

“Peña!” you both hear Carrillo call, and Javier’s head turns to see the colonel waving his arm over. “¡Tenemos que irnos!”

“¡Ya voy!” Javier retorts, turning back to you for a quick moment. “I gotta go. Tell me when I get back.” He then turns around again to leave.

You, however, can’t let that happen. Your arm reaches out to catch his, keeping him from going any further. “Wait!” you plead. He looks at you again, his face revealing his frustration at your delaying. You know the words aren’t going to come up, but you have to do something—so you do it.

Your body acts before your mind has a chance to process it, and your hands are soon on the sides of Javier’s face, pulling it to yours as your lips press hard against his. You can tell he’s taken aback by the action, but you can’t bring yourself to stop. However, once your mind catches up with your body, you pull away quickly. You see Javier’s widened eyes and you feel embarrassed immediately.

You’re about to step away and run as far as you can in the other direction when he also takes a hold of your face, pulling it back to his. The kiss he leaves there is the most passionate you’ve ever received, his lips practically melting against your own. Your heart drums against your ribcage in a loving rhythm, the shock of pure affection and warmth trembling through your entire body. Eventually, he has to pull away, but not without his nose brushing against yours.

“Save another one for when I come back,” he mumbles, leaving his final kiss on your forehead before he jogs over to an impatient Carrillo. You cross your arms as you watch him go, your fingers trailing across your lips as you absorb what’s just happened. You’d be smiling if Javier wasn’t about to face a potential death sentence—and you can only hope that you’ll be able to fulfill his request soon enough.

You can find part two here.

You can find the Din prompt here.

translations:

¡Tenemos que irnos! = We have to go!

¡Ya voy! = I’m coming!

[loveisblindfanfictionbka]

Love Is Blind: Chapter Sixteen

“So...what do you think about this?”

Robyn sighed as she shook her head, “Leandra, I do not need anymore clothes for this baby especially since I don’t even know what I’m having yet.”

“I thought this would be fun since your old ass has been on partial bed rest for the last two weeks.”

“Well, it’s not. I’m not in the mood for shopping, online or otherwise.”

“Well Sorry. I don’t know why you so grumpy anyway. You are literally being waited on hand and foot for weeks.”

“I am not grumpy. I am tired and haven’t been able to sleep”

“Why not?”

“Why else?”

“I know the baby is bigger than normal but it can’t be that bad.”

“It’s worse. Everything fucking hurts and is swollen. I’m actually on complete bed rest, not partial so I haven’t been allowed to do absolutely anything. Chris watches me like a damn hawk and Anesa is his little spy. I am so over being pregnant.”

“Well how long do you have left”

“Entirely too long. I don’t want to deliver early because of the complications but I am also really ready to get this over with.”

“Maybe you and Chris should’ve done this when you were younger.”

Robyn rolled her eyes, “don’t even.”

“Do you regret your decision?”

“Not as much as I thought I would.”

“You don't seem excited.”

“I’m having too many complications to be excited.”

“What about Chris?”

“What about him?”

“He doesn’t seem too overjoyed.”

“Really? He seems excited to me. The baby is all I ever hear him talk about.”

“He don't say much around us”

“That’s odd. You might have to ask him about that.”

“How are you two doing?”

“We’re good. Still together.”

“Engaged?”

“Nope.”

“What are you waiting for?”

“We’re not waiting for anything. My concerns before are the same as now and I’m not ready to get married again.”

“I’m still not understanding your logic. This man loves you. You love him. Y’all are having a baby together and are already raising another together. What concerns are there to have?”

“We just reconnected months ago. None of what is happening was planned. I think I’m entitled to some time to get myself together. I’m pregnant, that’s all my mind can handle right now.”

“You are really freaked out about this whole pregnancy thing.”

“Of course I am. The last thing I want is to finally have a baby and then I die giving birth to them. I do not have the mental capacity to think beyond getting through these last months. Once I’m holding this human then we can worry about all that other stuff.”

“And how does Chris feel about it?”

“As far as I know, he’s fine. We had this discussion when we were deciding on whether to keep the baby or not. I told him what I felt and what my concerns were, he agreed for us to work through it. He hasn’t mentioned feeling any differently. Has he to you?”

“No. I was just wondering because he’s been a little closed off this whole time.”

“You think so?”

“That’s what it seems like to me but then again I’m not here with him every day so you might see it a little differently.”

“I mean he’s been pretty open with me thus far, I would hope things would remain that way.”

“I don’t see why not. Like I said I’m not around him constantly so my opinion is a little short-sighted.”

“I guess but I’ll talk to him.”

“Ok. Well I need to get Maxwell from his dad’s house.”

“Have you two decided whether to get back together?”

“We have. After we flush out some more details, I’ll let you know what happens.”

“Alright. Be careful driving, Le.”

“I will, Mama. Take care of my niece or nephew in there.”

“I’m trying.”

Leandra closed Robyn’s laptop and set in on the nightstand before kissing her cheek and leaving the bedroom.

Robyn sighed as she stared at the blank screen of the television. She had been staying at  Chris’s condo for the last few weeks since the doctor placed her on bed rest for the rest of her pregnancy. She had suggested staying at her house but his condo was closer to his work in case he needed to hurry home to help her with something. When she agreed that they would keep the baby, she definitely wasn’t prepared for all this. Instead of easing her way back into his space, she was just thrust into it for the safety of herself and their child. Nothing about this pregnancy was going the way she expected and neither was their relationship in fact. She didn’t want to let on that there was something going on with them to Leandra but she noticed the same distance that had been mentioned. It was such a deja vu feeling and she didn’t want to rock the boat by mentioning it to Chris. It felt like they were going backwards.

Chris upped the speed on the treadmill as he tried to work out his mental kinks. He could feel himself sinking into depression and he really wanted to avoid that as much as possible. Robyn was miserable and he couldn’t fix it.She was pregnant with his child and he couldn’t even be happy about it because she despised it so much. It was hard having to be around her and see her lose her smile as the months went by. Maybe he made a mistake in agreeing for her to keep the baby. Maybe just because it was his dream didn’t mean it was their dream anymore. They weren’t 20 years old anymore, spruce and ready to take on the world. Now reality was starting to set in and it wasn’t as pretty as they had hoped. As he had hoped. Maybe he should’ve taken her hesitance as a sign and not pushed the issue but there’s no way he could’ve been around her and Anesa and not wonder what could’ve been, if they had decided to have an abortion. He didn’t want to live with anymore regrets. Situations like this don’t always get second chances. 

As he reached the one hour mark, he slowed the machine down to a slow walk as he tried to collect his thoughts. He had told Robyn he had a class today but he really just needed to get out of the house. He had cancelled his lecture and decided to hang out in the University gym to get his mind together. He had called his therapist and they spoke for a while; he just needed to do something physical to clear his mind as well. A few minutes later, he left the gym with his workout bag thrown over his shoulder and his phone clutched in his hand. Maybe he needed to take his doctor’s advice and talk to Robyn. Omitting his feelings had been their downfall before and he didn’t want to go backwards.

Robyn carefully made her way into the kitchen and had just opened the fridge when she heard the keys in the front door. Taking way more energy than she had cared to use, she turned just as Chris walked in, “Hey you.”

“Hey.”

“How was class?”

Chris sighed, “I ended up cancelling the lecture. Wasn’t in the mood to teach.”

“Oh. So,” Robyn paused as she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know where he had been all morning, “you hungry?”

“That’s not what you were gonna ask me, Robyn.”

“What? Sure it was.”

Chris’s brow lifted in suspicion as he set his bags down on the floor. He leaned against the island just a few feet away from Robyn and crossed his ankles, “Your face tells on you every time. I was in my office then I used the school gym for a while to answer your real question.”

Robyn simply nodded her head and turned back to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against it, “I guess we all need a break every now and then.”

“How’s the baby?”

“Good. Normal movements, nothing to worry about.”

“Good. How are you?”

“Alive so I guess I’m great.”

“I don't know whether you’re being serious or sarcastic.”

“Why would I be sarcastic?”

“You sure you’re ok?”

“I’m fine, Christopher.”

Robyn took a deep breath as she started to leave the kitchen. Chris moved to grab a hold of her forearm and carefully led her to the couch, “have you been moving around all day?”

“No. I just got thirsty and I ran out of water in the pitcher you left.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Love.”

“What? It’s not a problem, I was cramping up and needed to stretch my legs anyway. So how was the gym then?”

“It was good. Got to clear my mind a bit.”

“Oh. That’s great.”

“Robyn, I think we need to talk.”

“Oh. About what?”

“I’m sure you know about what. It’s feeling very deja vu right now and I don’t think either of us are very happy about it.”

“I really haven’t done anything.”

“It’s not what you’ve done but I can tell there’s a change in you and if I know your expressions as well as I do, I sense you can tell something has changed too.”

“Chris, just come out and say it.”

“What exactly do you think I want to say?”

“That you don’t want to do this anymore.”

“This, as in a relationship with you? Of course, I still want to. Why would you think something like that?”

“How could I not? You look miserable.”

“Because you look miserable and it’s all my fault.”

“What?”

“I got you pregnant and you’re not really happy about it. I feel like I forced you into something that you didn’t want to do.”

“What? Of course not. I agreed that we would have this baby, you didn’t force me into anything.”

“That’s not what it feels like.”

“Chris, I am terrified about having this baby not because I don’t want to but because I’m scared to lose it. God forbid the first time I get pregnant is the last time I’ll ever be able to get pregnant. I get scared every time the baby stops moving. I can’t sleep because I’m not sure I’m gonna wake up. This is not the pregnancy I imagined it being.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What exactly was I supposed to say? Besides it’s not like you’ve much want to talk to me anyway.”

“And why do you say that?”

“You told me you had a class just so you could get out of the house. What do you think that says to me?”

“That I just needed some space. That doesn’t always translate into a bad thing. I know my past actions have given you cause for concern whenever I may want to take a step back from you but you gotta trust that it’s not always some horrible plot to abandon you.”

“What I don’t trust is when you start lying to me. You’ve never had a problem telling me straight up before now so why the whole class story?”

“Because you don't take much of anything well these days. You don't smile and you’re irritable. Anything I say to you is met with an eye roll and a grunt, doesn’t make talking to you very easy.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. Your fear comes out as meanness and irritability. And it makes me not want to say anything because I don’t want to make you feel any worse than I already have.”

“Chris, I’m sorry. I really didn’t know.”

“It’s fine.”

“No it’s not. I guess I’ve been so wrapped up in everything going wrong that I was taking it out on you unnecessarily. Honestly, I really didn’t know.”

“I get it. This is scary especially since neither of us has been through this process before but I don’t think it’s gonna get easier with us being mad or distant from each other. It’s honestly just hard to watch you be so miserable and I can’t do anything about it which makes me feel bad then I get all depressed and I don’t want you to feel like it’s your fault so I just try to compartmentalize it.”

“But you aren’t compartmentalizing it, you’re pulling away from me. I can understand if you need space to get your mind together but all I see is you pulling away, not the reason why and I’ll never know the reason unless you tell me. Just like I can’t know that I’m being mean to you unless you say something. My mind is going a mile a minute with the worst possible scenarios. I’m constantly in pain and I’m exhausted. I tend to neutralize my emotions as a way to cope.That is no excuse for me to treat you badly and if my silence is hurting you, I need to know that.”

They both fell silent for a few moments.

Robyn sighed, “we’re both too old to be going through the motions this way. We’re clearly trying to protect each other but we’re actually hurting each other instead. It was my choice to have this baby, you didn’t force me to do anything. My irritation is not because of you so you don’t need to internalize or take it personal. If I’m being a bitch, tell me that. You shouldn’t have to sneak around or lie to me just to get some peace for yourself. If you need a break, take one. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t feel anything because I’m not feeling well. You don't need to suppress your emotions to dwell in mine, it’s not fair to either of us.”

“I don’t want you to feel unsupported.”

“Chris, I never felt unsupported, not even for a moment. You do not have to take any behavior of mine on the chin just because I’m pregnant. And don’t take this wrong, there’s nothing you can do to make this any easier for me. You can’t carry babies or birth them so I’m pretty much it for this little one.”

Chris chuckled lightly as Robyn reached over to grab his hand, “you ok?”

“For now, yes.”

“Are we ok?”

“That’s something I should be asking you. Are we ok?”

“Yea, we’re good.”

“Good.”

“Let’s see about getting you back in this bed.”

“Ugh….do I have to?”

“You can barely walk without heaving, the last thing you need to be doing is moving around.”

“It’s so blah in there.”

“I wish there was something I could do to entertain you but I’m fresh out of ideas.”

“Can you play the piano for me?”

Chris smiled, “that I can do. You need anything while I get my stuff set up?”

“Can you get me a blanket? I’d like to sit out here instead.”

“Sure. Do you need your medication?”

“No, I’m good. I took it this morning. When’s Nesa Boo coming back?”

“Later this evening. She was really excited that she made a new friend.”

“I told you letting her go to camp would be good, all those friends that were actually around here.”

“I can admit that you were right even though I am still a little paranoid.”

“She’s your baby and she’s still a baby, so I understand but she can’t be up under her daddy forever.”

“I guess she really did need a mommy in her life.”

“And I’m glad to be that for her.”

“You know you’re already a great mother, Robyn. You never needed to worry about that.”

Robyn smiled, “thanks. I needed to hear that.”

Chris moved to kiss her forehead then kissed her lips, “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

[gentlemen-of-lies]

Gentlemen of Lies, chapter 11

An unoriginal pain in the A.S.S

Beginning

Previous chapter

Next chapter

————

It was late when Curt arrived back to America, too late to report to Cynthia, although he was sure she wanted to see him as soon as possible; a hunch that was confirmed when the driver of the car that was taking him back to his apartment handed him a note in Cynthia’s almost illegible handwriting.

See me first thing tomorrow morning, and try not to fuck anything else up :)

She always added a smiley face, and knowing Cynthia, it wasn’t to soften the blow, but if anything, it was to make the note more threatening. It worked. Curt couldn’t shake the feeling that the bullet wound in his leg wasn’t going to be the only injury he received from this case.

The driver didn’t stop right outside Curt’s apartment, for security reasons. Obviously Curt wasn’t well known enough as a spy for the A.S.S to take full precaution as he’d probably be dropped off at a hotel instead if that were the case. But his time in England had made himself known to a select number of agencies, so you couldn’t be too careful.

The walk was longer than Curt had originally thought and he’d been dropped off at a part of town that he wasn’t very familiar with— he’d only moved here a few months ago and hadn’t had much of a chance to get to know the place. It was nearly two in the morning by the time he arrived home to his empty apartment, but if anything, he was glad about it. He would have forced himself to stay up late anyway until he was so tired that he’d naturally fall into a deep and dreamless sleep. Something that was even more pressing now that he’d arrived home. His apartment was small, dark. Certainly a sight nicer than the hostel, but at least the hostel hadn’t been so lonely; here there was no one. Unless you counted the neighbours above and below him, which Curt didn’t, since he’d hardly ever spoken to them save for a quick hello when he bumped into them collecting the mail.

The point was, his apartment was the perfect environment for Curt’s thoughts to run wild, so he told himself he only needed to be here to sleep, and only sleep. Only when he was tired enough. Otherwise he’d have to resort to a stiff drink, and he didn’t think that was an option anymore.

————

The A.S.S building, or at least the one that Cynthia resided in, looked the same as always. The same drab brick on the outside, the brown wallpaper on the inside. Curt didn’t know why he expected the building to look any different, he’d only been gone a few weeks. But so much had changed in that few weeks that it was only natural to assume that everything else in his life had as well.

But Cynthia’s door was the same as ever. Same wooden sound when he knocked, same harsh voice calling “come in!”. She was on the phone when he entered. She was always on the phone.

“Listen, all I said was that her son looked like my aunt Dinah with that haircut, I mean who cares? It’s not like old Bessie’s your first wife...” Cynthia saw him enter and indicated for him to sit down, throwing him the finger for good measure.

“What’s that?” She continued on the phone. “She is your first wife? Well, good luck with that after the election, whatever the result, she’ll either leave you, or you’ll leave her for the White House secretary.” She let out a laugh only reserved for her own jokes, stopping abruptly as the recipient on the other end of the phone clearly didn’t see the humour in it. “Oh get over it like a man,” she ordered. “No wonder Dewey’s beating your ass. I gotta go.” Finally. “Yeah I’ll talk to you later, President Truman.” She put the phone down with a clatter, any smile on her face disappearing instantly into a scowl as she turned to him.

“Now listen-” began Curt, hoping to get in an explanation before she went nuclear. “I did the best I could, and if you look at all the facts I did my job perfectly, it’s not my fault that-”

“Okay first of all,” Cynthia interrupted, which wasn’t a surprise. “Shut the fuck up.” Curt refrained from sighing irritably, and sunk his shoulders into the back of the seat behind him. “Second of all, I hope you’re aware that I now have the entirety of MI6 breathing down my neck, because not only did one of their employees get blown up but so did one of their buildings.”

“That wasn’t my fault! The employee was a mole, and he’s the one who planted the bomb-”

“Susan!” Curt let out a silent groan at Cynthia’s refusal to listen to a word he said. She was now calling for her assistant, Susan. A curly haired woman who hardly spoke and was like Cynthia’s own personal puppy dog. Susan quickly arrived through another door behind Cynthia’s desk.

“Susan, tell Agent Mega about the message we received from Agent Carvour’s superior,” said Cynthia.

“Um, well, the man said that Curt had deliberately disobeyed orders, gone against his partner and had therefore put himself and everyone else in danger, leading to the preventable death of Mr John Lawson.” Susan concluded as if she were reading from a stenographic machine. Cynthia looked back at him, as triumphant a look on her face as was possible for someone who never smiled.

“Tell me again, Mega, how it wasn’t your fault.”

“Look, if I had just been teamed up with someone who wasn’t as stubborn as that idiot Carvour, I never would have had to go against him. Besides, if I hadn’t broken into Lawson’s house, no one would have found out about the bomb in the first place and he would have gotten away with it scott free. I honestly don’t know what you’re blaming me here for.”

“So it isn’t true that you deliberately stayed behind in the building, leading to Lawson attempting to shoot you, and therefore getting himself killed in the process.” Curt said nothing. It wasn’t as if these were new facts to him. God knows he’d played his stupid decision over in his mind thousands of times, driving himself half insane over it.

“Well?” Pushed Cynthia.

“Okay fine, I shouldn’t have done that. But if you think about everything in domino affects then everyone could be blamed for everything.”

“You’re a spy, Mega. Your entire job is a domino affect. One tiny decision can fuck everything up, and that’s not the kind of spies I’m willing to send on missions.”

“So what, I’m here to get demoted? Get fired?” He was saying this a little antagonistically, but truth was he was scared. He really didn’t want to get fired.

“Actually, you’re here to be assigned a new case.” Curt sat up in his chair. Of all the outcomes to this conversation, he hadn’t expected this one.

“Really?”

“Unfortunately yes. We may have found the group that Mr Lawson was leaking information to. Since you knew him and the case better than my other agents, I need you to follow it up.”

“Right.” Curt’s belated feeling at being given a second chance quickly started to disappear. He had been hoping to put the Lawson case behind him for good, not open it back up again.

“The group’s located in Leningrad. You’ll be going undercover as a new recruit, approved by Mr Lawson. We’ve written up some fake documents for you. Kendris will explain your role in more detail.” Adam Kendris, in charge of assigning missions along with Cynthia, although he did more of the leg work.

“Your goal,” continued Cynthia. “Is mostly to find out information that can be used against the group; their informants, employees, networks, stuff like that. But we’ve also gotten wind that they’re attempting to design new plans for nuclear weapons.” Cynthia stood up and tapped the ash from her cigarette into the glass ash tray beside her. She walked to the front of her desk so she was right next to Curt.

“If these plans exist, if this technology exists, your job is to destroy it. Whatever it takes. And if you fuck it up, so help me God, I will personally throw you out of this building with my own hands.” Curt didn’t doubt it. If anything the threat was tame for Cynthia. Which didn’t last for long.

“When am I leaving?” He asked.

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? I don’t even get a break before leaving?” Cynthia smacked him across the face. It wasn’t very hard, just a warning slap. But he still- regrettably- said “ow!” out of shock more than anything, and brought his hand to his cheek. Cynthia pointed a finger in his face.

“Secret agents don’t get breaks. We are on the verge of war with the soviets and you want to sit back at home and put your feet up? Those days are over, Mega. You’re leaving tomorrow.” Curt bit his tongue to stop any retaliation.

“Fine.”

“Now get out of my office. Susan, show him the door.”

“I know where the door is...” but he had to trail off as Susan purposefully led him outside the office and slammed the door in his face.

Looks like he was leaving tomorrow.

[chemartsblog]

I Need a Hero

Zuko put his life of stalking and blowing things up behind. He loves baking for the Jasmine Dragon, and the most stressful thing in his life is Jin’s nosiness. 

Until he’s caught in a villain attack is saved by the most gorgeous hero...and throw coupons at him.

Ao3 Link

Quirks are mutations in the human genome that cause a person to exhibit non-human traits and abilities. The earliest quirks date back to 6,000 years ago with the appearance of elemental quirks. Those with the quirks were called ‘benders’, due to their ability to seemingly bend the elements. In modern times, quirks have evolved to more complex traits…

—History of Quirks by Kya Mallik

--

“Excuse me why is this tea so bitter?” a shrill woman in an atrocious floral blouse asks. Zuko counts to ten and answers, “You asked for 0% sugar. Tea is naturally bitter. Hence your tea is bitter.”

“Well change it!”

“Okay how much sugar do you want?”

“I told you earlier I didn’t want any sugar.”

Count to ten Zuko. Just like the therapist said.

“Ma’am.” Zuko says slowly trying to keep himself from steaming, “If you don’t add any sugar it’ll still be bitter. If you want an artificial sweetener we have some Splenda over there.”

“I don’t want artificial sweeteners. They cause cancer.”

Oh Agni. What did he ever do to deserve this? Zuko winces. Actually, forget I said that.

“Okay, we’ll fix it.” Zuko grumbles. The woman huffs and nods. Zuko goes to the station and places the cup under the syrup bottle.  I hope you gain five pounds Karen. He thinks viciously as he pumps the syrup.

He shakes the drink and then returns it to her. The woman eyes it suspiciously and takes a slow sip. Then she smiles condescendingly and says, “See that wasn’t so hard.” And flounces off.

Good riddance. He thinks as he wipes down the counter.

“Wow bossman, I thought for sure you would have punched her.” Jin chirps. Song chuckles beside her and nods. “You showed great restraint, boss.”

“Can’t punch customers. Might get arrested.” He grumbles. “Also Uncle would be…disappointed.”

“And there’s the real reason why.” Jin teases. “You’re truly your Uncle’s boy.”

“Shut up Jin or I’ll fire you.”

“Said that before, bossman~” Jin sing-songs. “And you’ve never done it.”

“I’ll do it someday.” Zuko grumbles.

Song seems to take pity and says, “Why don’t you go to the kitchen, Zuko? It’s pretty much slowing down here. We can take care of any orders.”

Zuko looks at Song gratefully. She’s truly an angel. “Okay. I want to experiment on some new bread anyway.”

“Or you can take a lunch break.” Jin says. “It’s already 11, and I know you’ve been here since 4am baking.”

“Oh yes, Jin’s right. Take a lunch break. Lee’ll be here soon.”

Zuko pouts, “I’m not hungry.”

“Yes you are.” Jin retorts. “Now go. And I want to see a receipt of your lunch.”

“Please, Boss?”

Zuko looks at both the girls and sighs heavily. “Fine. Fine.” He grumbles and takes off the hat and apron. He takes his hair out of the bun and lets it tumble down to his mid-back. “I thought I was supposed to be the boss?” he mutters.

“You are! We’re just looking out for you. Uncle’s orders.” Jin sasses.

“Have a good lunch.” Song says waving at him. Zuko returns it half-heartedly and trudges out.

                                                   ----

The streets are crowded with students and workers all heading to lunch. Zuko does his best to weave around the crowds, but even he’s pushed around in the crowded streets. Fortunately, Kuzon’s Diner is just ahead, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he gets in. The smell of familiar Fire Nation spices eases his nerves, and he goes up to the counter. On Ji smiles and asks, “You’re usual?”

“Please.” He says tiredly. He just wants to stuff his face with some hand-cut Fire Noodles. Extra spicy.

“Haha did Jin force you to take a break?”

“Jin doesn’t force me to do anything.” Zuko denies petulantly.

On Ji rolls her eyes, “Suuure Zuko.”

He tries to pay but she stops him. “On the house.” She says.

Zuko narrows his eyes, “On Ji.” He tries to say.

“Nope, you made my sister’s birthday cake.”

“It was just a cake.”

“It was a four-tiered cake to make it look like the scene from the movie Love Amongst Dragons. It was a masterpiece. Mom still cries thinking about it. You’re not paying.”

He sighs, but relents. What is with all the strong-willed women in his life?

“Thanks.” He says taking the packed noodles.

On Ji smiles and shoos him playfully, “Go on. I know I can’t make you stay to eat here. But I texted Jin, so I’ll know if you don’t eat it immediately.”

“I never should have introduced you guys.” He grumbles half-heartedly.

“Please, you love us mothering you.”

“Goodbye On Ji.” Zuko grits out.

“Mom says she better see you next week for our monthly potluck!”

“Yes, I know.” He says fondly and waves goodbye at the excitable girl.

                                                    ---

He’s walking leisurely and thinking about new bread flavors when an explosion rocks the area. His body goes on autopilot and he crouches behind a mailbox. He frantically looks around and sees a group of people in combat uniforms. Villains. Great.

There are three in total. The biggest one is carrying a bulky case, probably filled with whatever loot they stole. He looks to be an anima-based mutant. Kamodo-rhino perhaps? The other two seem to be energy-propulsion mutants. One is shooting beams out of his forehead and the other is shooting from her hands. There’s a familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through Zuko as he thinks of the ways they could escape. Getaway vehicle, temporal portal, smokescreen.

Still it’s pretty ballsy of them to attack a major hub in daylight. Maybe they didn’t have a choice? He wonders what’s in the bag, and his fingers start to itch.

No.

He closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths and tries to calm his beating heart. No.

There are more explosions. People are running around him. Screaming, panicking. He belatedly hears the Civilian Safety Force giving order, and he sees the bright neon green uniforms start to direct the crowd into orderly lines. Zuko stands and starts to go with them, but then he hears On Ji.

Without thinking he starts running towards her, weaving through the officers who are yelling at him to stop. But he can’t. He sees On Ji. Trapped next to a wall by debris from the ruined building. She’s desperately trying to get out, but she’s not strong enough to move the fallen chunks.

Zuko moves.

He doesn’t practice as much as before, but his body still remembers. Still remembers how to weave and dodge and climb smoothly over the debris, over the flying projectiles and screaming people. He reaches On Ji and frees her.

“Zuko.” She whispers with awe.

“No time. Let’s go.” Zuko says slinging her over his shoulders. Even through all this, his heart is calm and steady. He seems to fly through the street. In the back of his mind, he can acknowledge that he misses this. Misses the danger. The adrenaline. But he’s rusty. Maybe he would have seen it five years ago, but he barely notices it now.

He doesn’t even think. He tosses On Ji to a group of neon-green officers and faces the truck flying towards him.

Time slows.

His hands curl and he brings them up in a protective stance. Fire rushes through his veins and—blue.

B

O

O

M

!

Zuko blinks and coughs as dust tickle his lungs. He’s on the ground, but there’s a looming shadow over him. He looks up and his eyes widen.

It’s like a scene out of a movie; there’s a tall dark-skinned man in front of him. He’s in a dark blue hero suit with a sword on his hip. His brown hair is tied in a wolfstail with the sides shaved. And most impressively, he’s holding up the truck like it weighs nothing.

Oh Spirits, those are some big biceps.

The hero puts down the truck gently, and Zuko tries not to ogle at the thicc thighs that flex as he squats down. It’s getting really hot here. Why is it getting so hot here?

Then the hero turns and smiles. It’s. Blinding.

Zuko doesn’t even realize that the hero has walked close to him until he’s face to face with him. The dark googles mask his eyes, but Zuko thinks he probably has really striking eyes under them.

“Don’t worry. I’m here.” He says in a soothing deep timber. Then he wraps his arms around Zuko and lifts him. Princess style.

Zuko can only squeak and cling onto his very muscular shoulders.

Don’t get a boner. Don’t get a boner. Don’t get a boner.

Suddenly he’s put down and people are swarming him. Someone puts an ugly orange blanket over him and another is flashing a really bright light in his eye. He flinches and bats the light away from his eye. Someone chuckles next to him and he turns to see the Hero, still smiling and saying, “I gotta go kick some ass, but I’ll be back to check on you.”

Zuko likes to think that he says okay or nods or anything really, but in reality, he just continues to stare at the Hero. Red-faced and wide-eyed.

The hero is still there, and it looks like he wants to laugh. “So…maybe you can let go now?”

Ah he’s still clutching his shoulders. Nice Zuko. Good job.

He peels his fingers off the uniform and puts them tightly on his side. With one last wave, the Hero goes to face the three mutants.

There are more people surrounding him and asking him questions, but Zuko’s head is in a buzz. He belatedly hears On Ji’s voice near him and feels a protective hand over him. He clutches the hand and closes his eyes.

Focus Zuko. Calm yourself and breathe.

When he opens them, On Ji is beside him. Teary and dusty but otherwise alright. The orange shock blanket is still on him, and he pulls it tightly across him.

“You okay?” Zuko croaks.

On Ji scoffs and hugs him tight. “Of course. Thanks to you.”

“I owed you for the free noodles.” He tries to joke, but by the glare On Ji sends him it probably didn’t land.

“Zuko Hira’a, you are not allowed to pay for anything in Kuzon’s diner for as long as you live.” She says sternly. “And don’t bother trying to hide this from Song and Jin. I already texted them.”

Ugh he knew he shouldn’t have introduced them.

He sighs and says, “Okay. I’m sorry for worrying you, but I—I just saw you there and—and I couldn’t just leave you.”

She smiles tearily. “I know. Because you’re a stupid brave reckless idiot.”

“I know.”

A paramedic comes over to him and gives a reassuring smile. “Zuko Hira’a?”

“Yes?”

“It seems you’re alright. Just a bit of shock and a small cut on your right cheek.”

Zuko immediately puts his hands to his face and feels the rough bandage. On Ji groans and swats his hand away. “Don’t touch it.”

“Sorry.” he mutters, shaking the sting on his hand off.

The paramedic looks amused and hands him a form. “Well, it’s not deep. You didn’t even need stiches, just fill out this form and you’ll be set.”

“Thank you.” Zuko says taking the paper. The paramedic smiles again and leaves.

“So…now that you’re officially cleared...” On Ji has a devious look on her face.

Oh no.

“How’d it feel to be saved by a big handsome hero?”

He should have let the truck squash him.

Instead, he has to be here. With On Ji, who has the biggest shit-eating grin on her face. Can he fake a heart attack?

“You can’t fake a heart attack.”

“…how did you know?” Did she have a mind-reading quirk?

“Because that was your ‘can I fake a heart attack’ face.”

“I didn’t know I had one.” He mumbles.

On Ji clucks her tongue, “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Please Spirits give me something. Anything.

“Hey, I’m glad I found you!”

ANYTHING BUT THAT!

Zuko freezes and turns around stiltedly. Blue Hero’s face is a little dirty, but it just makes him look rugged, and his googles are pushed up to reveal striking blue eyes. Now that Zuko has a closer look, his arms are much bigger than he originally thought. They’re just tight corded muscles with beautiful brown skin stretched over them. His hero suit also helps show off the defined lines of his body. The dark blue really goes will with his brown skin—and Blue Hero is talking. And he’s waiting for a response.

Good job Zuko. Way to pay attention. Just nod; that’s usually the answer to everything right?

Zuko nods and the Hero beams. On Ji is biting her lips on the side, and he wishes he could just swat her away. Or rather if Zuko could swat Zuko away. That would be the most ideal.

“I’m glad you’re okay. I was really worried for a second because you were kinda out of it.” The hero says.

Yes yes. He was. No need to make him relive the shame of his encounter.

“Um…sorry. About that.”

“Haha, it’s no problem. You were probably in shock and all. Oh I’m Pro-Hero Boomerang by the way!” Boomerang stretches his hand out, and Zuko stares at it before On Ji takes pity on him and elbows his back discretely. Zuko takes it and says, “Uh…Zuko here.”

Zuko here? ZUKO HERE? Agni just strike him down now.

Boomerang just takes it in stride and smiles, “You were pretty brave, but maybe next time you can leave it to the heroes?”

Fire flares in his gut. His eyes narrow and he squeezes the hand tight, “I wasn’t going to stand by and watch her get hurt. Not if I could help. And I won’t apologize for it.”

Boomerang blinks, and his grin seems to change into something more real. “You’re right, but maybe…just be a little more careful next time huh? I can’t always swoop in to rescue you.” His eyes are smoldering and Zuko feels his palms start to heat up. He retracts his hands quickly and turns to hide his blush.

“Right right.” He mumbles.

Boomerang looks amused, but he turns to On Ji and says, “You’re lucky to have him as a boyfriend.”

On Ji sticks out her tongue, “Ugh no way. He’s more like my socially awkward older brother. Besides he’s super gay.”

“On Ji!” Zuko hisses, but Boomerang doesn’t seem to have heard him. His eyes widen and his brows lift. He glances at Zuko who’s desperately trying to will the red off his face.

“I see.” He says contemplatively. “Well, it’s nice to see that you guys are okay. I have to go help with clean-up.”

“Of course.” On Ji says genially. “Thank you for all your help, Boomerang.” Then she elbows Zuko who looks dumbly at Boomerang.

He should say something. Thank you or can I lick your biceps? No, that last one was not good. Thank you. Just say ‘thank you’…

But the sun just hit him at the just the right angle to make the shadows grace his strong jaw. The cut lines of his body. The piercing blue of his eyes. And he freaks.

He takes something out of his pocket and shoves it in the hero’s chest. Boomerang looks confused (rightfully so) and barely takes the slip of paper.

“HERE’S A COUPON FOR MY TEASHOP. OKAYBYE!” And he grabs On Ji and the blanket and books it.

He must look like a maniac because people are parting for him and On Ji is cackling like a witch, but he doesn’t really care right now. He just needs to get out of there to prevent anymore word vomit from coming out of him. He runs until he’s back at the Jasmine Dragon, and he throws the door open.

Multiple eyes widen in shock at his appearance, but Zuko just puts On Ji down on an empty chair where she proceeds to laugh herself silly, and Zuko goes into the kitchen, ignoring all the wide-eye looks from his employees. He reaches the refrigerator and goes inside. Finally, he pulls up a stool and sinks down, head to his knees, and heaves a loud guttural groan.

[wwenhlimagines]

Hurts So Good

Requested by @yoncelikeliquor

Warnings: cussing, dirty talk, smut(?)

Sitting at home, you feel your stomach churn as you watch the tv to see Dolph's face turn bright red with pain and anger. Otis had gone for the Caterpillar just when Dolph got his knees up and although they had practiced, Dolph's left knee got tweaked. Now, your boyfriend is holding his knee and stomping his right foot on the mat to tell the ref he is really injured. Robert Roode helps him get up and guides him backstage to the trainer's room. You can't even watch the rest of the show as you think about how you are going to help Dolph recover. Luckily, the show tonight is only a few hours away, so you won't have to wait long to see him.

Your phone starts to ring and you pick it up frantically, "Babe, are you okay? Oh my god, you are probably in so much pain. I'm so sorry I'm not there right now. I'll get in the car if you need-" "Whoa whoa whoa...Take a deep breath sweetheart. No need to get in the car, Robert is going to give me a ride home so don't worry about it. I just need you to get ready to be my nurse for a while." You take a deep breath before replying, "Okay...so what's the injury?" He sighs, "We'll have to get it checked out on Monday, but for now they think it could be just a dislocated kneecap." His voice gets lower as if he doesn't want anyone to hear, "Either way, I just want to be home and relaxing with my baby, so we are going to take this one day at a time and enjoy our time together. Does that sound good babe?" The tone of his voice makes your skin crawl as you await his return. "Of course baby, I'll make sure you enjoy every second in many ways." He chuckles slowly, "I like the sound of that. Be ready for me when I get home babe. I'm all yours in a few hours." "Just how I like it. See you in a few hours...Daddy." Dolph groans and he tries to cover it up as he grabs his knee when Robert looks at him suspiciously. "I gotta go before you make it even harder to hang up." "I thought harder was the goal Daddy, I know you like it hard...and slow." You moan lightly as the words leave your mouth to tease him and because your own words are turning you on. "Fuck babe, you've got to wait for me. Chill out and take a bath. I'll be home in a couple hours." You finally decided to stop teasing, "Okay, I'll be waiting for you babe." You hung up the phone and decided to take Dolph's advice and ran yourself a bath.

A couple hours later, you have cleaned up the house and yourself in preparation for Dolph's arrival. Eventually, you see the lights of a car shine through the window, so you rush outside to help Dolph inside. Robert got his bags as you help Dolph hobble his way into the house. "He's all yours now, good luck! He didn't stop complaining the whole way here." He turns to Dolph and pats him on the shoulder. "Be nice to your woman, otherwise I'll come back and make you hurt some more." Dolph laughs and puts his arms around you. "Don't worry, I'm always a gentleman to my baby girl." You smile and thank Robert as he walks out the front door.

You turned to face Dolph and sighed, "Welcome home babe, I've got the bedroom ready for you." He smiles at you and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and he reaches down to give you the sweetest kiss. As you pull away, you can see the sleepiness show in his eyes. "Let's get you to bed baby, you look tired." He nods his head slightly, "Okay but I'm making it up to you tomorrow." You giggle and get some extra pillows for him to prop his leg up on to reduce swelling along with some pain meds and a glass of water. He settles into the bed and you get his leg propped up before you go over to your side of the bed and cuddle up next to him. "Goodnight babygirl, thank you for taking care of me." "Goodnight Dolph, you're welcome, now get some sleep." He sighs, "You know I love you right?" You giggle, "Of course and I love you too." He smiles to himself as he falls asleep with his favorite girl next to him.

All weekend, you take care of Dolph getting him ice, food, and meds whenever he needs it. You watch a lot of Netflix and just relax together the whole time. Despite the spicy talk on the phone before he came home, you both decided it was best to wait for doctor's approval before engaging in any physical activity.

Finally, Monday morning came and Dolph needed your help to take a shower before his doctor's appointment. You step into the shower and let him get settled before you start shampooing his luscious locks and giving him a nice head massage. He moans lightly at the touch of your fingers to his scalp and you smile as you wash out the shampoo and start to condition his hair. Next, you take some soap in your hands and start to wash his shoulders and arms before moving to his back and lightly dragging your nails down his back teasingly. "Babe, you know we have to wait. Don't tease me." He lightly pants and waits for you to finish cleaning him. You grab his ass and squeeze it before moving to stand in front of him. "Sorry, I just really like what I see and I literally can't keep my hands off you." He smirks as you start to wash his chest and abs tracing every line you see and licking your lips in the process. "Focus baby girl, we've got an appointment to get to." You smirk as you sink down to your knees to clean his legs and carefully take care of his knee. You look up at him to see him biting his lip and looking away to stop from moaning. Soon enough, you let the water wash off all of the soap and then help him get out of the shower. You quickly take your own shower and then get both of you dressed before driving to the doctor's office.

You pull into the parking lot and help Dolph into the building and wait for his appointment. The doctor takes Dolph back to get x-rays and an MRI done. When they come back out, Dolph has a big smile on his face. You stand up and walk over to them to hear what the doctor has to say. "Nothing seems to be broken, but we will need to look at the MRI to make sure the ligaments aren't too damaged. He needs to stay off of it for the most part, but he needs to try to move it for a few minutes every couple of hours." You look at Dolph who still has a giant smile on his face then you look at the doctor. "So can we...umm..." The doctor cuts you off chuckling lightly, "That was his first question. I told him as long as you take the responsibility of watching his knee, you can be sexually active." Dolph wraps an arm around your waist and kisses the side of your head. "Thanks doc, my girl will take great care of me. I'll see you in a week for the results." You thank the doctor and wave goodbye as Dolph tries to lead you out to the car. You get him in his side and then get in the driver's seat. Before you can even put the car in reverse, Dolph's hand is resting on your thigh. You look up at him suspiciously, "Dolph...I'm driving." You back the car out and start your way down the road. "Well, I'm impatient and I want to taste you so you better drive faster." His fingers start to creep their way up your shorts and you groan. "How about you just tell me what you want to do to me Dolph? No touching until we get home." By the smirk on his face, you knew he was down. He leaned closer and started to whisper into your ear. "I want you sitting on my face moaning my name as I lick on suck on your clit until you soak my face. Then I'm going to make you cry out my name as you ride my hard cock and grind your pussy down on me. My hands are going grab your ass as it bounces perfectly up and down and then I'm going to cum inside you and really make you feel how much you mean to me babe." Just as he finishes his fantasy, you pull into the driveway and drag him inside to put his plan and many others to work for the rest of the day.