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kikixreverie · 3 years ago

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Hi- may I ask for an angst-mix with Bucky x reader: she had her share of abusive/toxic relationships in her past, but it was nothing she spoke of, and not now when she had James. It wasnt like she thought she was gonna be triggered again, not by him, any other guy- buy not her Bucky! Some tiny bickering evolved to a large dispute, and before she knew what was happening, she shied away from him, making herself small, awaiting the blow - that never came... And instead she was overcome by shame...

Pasts and Apologies

Bucky x Fem!reader

Word count - 3k

Warnings - Mentions of domestic abuse from ex, some descriptions of abuse, angst, trauma

A/n - Okay I definitely went hard on the angst for this one. I kinda just went off on one so not so much bickering and more just a full blown argument but I've been feeling kinda angsty lately so I kinda accidentally made this darker than I expected. Please read the warnings and do not read if you think this could trigger you.

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Love had not been kind to you before Bucky. Every decent memory of your ex was clouded with uncertainty, you would walk on eggshells around him, terrified that saying the wrong thing would set him off and you'd be calling Sam again, sobbing down the phone, cradling another bruise at the hands of your 'partner'.

You were together for years, devoted to and unconditionally in love with the man that you had met in high school. Childhood sweethearts.

He always was quick to anger and he wasn't shy about that. He never had any issues with shouting at you when you pissed him off, just as he never had issues with shouting at his mother or younger brother, but at the time, you had always stood up for yourself and defended the poor woman, making him apologise, and he let you, he always let you clean up his messes.

The first few years were spent in ignorant bliss, you constantly ignored the fear that would creep up your spine when he got angry, but you could manage a screaming match or two, you could manage it all because you loved him, you depended on him despite that he wasn't at all dependable.

The arguments were tough, but you never expected it to go further than that, but eventually, it did.

The first time he was physically aggressive was on his 22nd birthday. He had insisted that he spend his birthday with his friends, calling it a guys night, and you were fine with that, you knew how handsy he got when he was with his friends anyway, so you spent the day with him instead, making sure to keep him happy and spoilt rotten.

As the night crept on, you had tried to wait up for him to return, just as he had asked, but as it passed 3am you decided that he wouldn't mind you going to bed since you had work the next day, so you crawled into bed and fell asleep, a mistake, at the time, you didn't know you had made.

When he returned half an hour later to see you unconscious, he woke you up with his shouting, angry that you hadn't stayed up for him, convinced that you were ruining his night on purpose. The loud awakening was enough alone to trigger your fight or flight but when he threw the duvet off you and grabbed your ankle so tightly you knew a bruise would form, you were terrified. He dragged you off the bed and pushed you towards the door, telling you to fuck off, and you did, tears streaming down your face as you laid awake on the couch till morning.

It only got worse from there, when he realised that he could hurt you and get away with it, it became his favourite past time, he'd look for reasons to shout at you, make you do things that would piss him off just so he'd have a reason to be cruel.

When Sam started noticing dark bruises on your skin, he was livid, and despite how often you'd try to convince him that it's just clumsiness, Sam knew better.

There were rare days that you would have long conversations with Sam, you'd talk about how you'd lost all your friends and distanced yourself from your family but you didn't blame your abuser, you blamed only yourself, and Sam would beg you to leave him but you'd be sobbing in his arms, telling him that you still loved the man who hurt you, that he didn't really mean to hurt you and you'd feel even more guilt if you ever got him in trouble for it.

It was a long and hard journey, but the moment you told Sam that you wanted out, he was there for you, offering you to stay at his place and helping you call the cops. He gave you all the resources he could possibly find through the VA and set you up with an amazing therapist and eventually you were living in your own place, talking to old friends again, and filing a restraining order against your ex.

It was nearly two years later when you met him. Introduced through Sam, you met the love of your life on a Sunday. He was quiet and focused, with hard eyes scanning the room, looking for escape routes, analysing people's faces.

You smiled gently at him when you met, opting for a small nod in greeting instead of a handshake. You stayed near him for the remainder of the gathering, not pressuring him to speak to you, just sitting in silence. You were drawn to him, his behaviour was so similar to yours.

You knew what it felt like to want to just blend into the corner, to stay unnoticed, you understood the need to know how to escape a room, and you saw the way he hesitantly returned your smile and then struggled to chase his smile away once you had sat down beside him.

You and Bucky soon became each other's rocks, always there for the other on the hard days, days that you would spend just walking or reading together in calm silence. There was no doubt that the two of you loved each other, and after months and months of trying to hide longing glances and blushing cheeks, you finally confessed to each other, and the rest was history. You trusted him like you had never trusted anyone before.

As your relationship progressed, Bucky started to notice some strange things in your behaviour, how you'd always ask his permission for you to go out with friends, how you were always quick to apologise in any situation and distanced yourself from him when he was the slightest bit irritated.

He had tried to ask you about it, but you always changed the subject as soon as it was mentioned, ensuring him that it was nothing to worry about.

To tell the truth, you were embarrassed, you were ashamed that your ex still had this effect on you, and no matter how many times you told yourself that he would never, that your Bucky would never, your brain refused to allow you to believe it and you continued with the odd behaviour that you used as a defence mechanism when in the abusive relationship.

You never spoke out of line, you never asked him where or who he was going out with, and you never let small bickering escalate.

It was only after you had overheard Sam and Bucky in a heated conversation, Sam scolding Buck for being reckless and stupid during a mission, that you had your first argument with him.

You had called Sam while Bucky was at the store, convincing him to tell you what had happened and after a few minutes of guilt-tripping, Sam finally confessed that Bucky had practically ran into open fire, endangering himself in an attempt to shut down a Hydra base, it could've very easily been fatal, and it wasn't the first time something like this had happened.

You knew it was wrong, you knew you should've just asked Bucky about it, but you couldn't help yourself, and you knew that Bucky would've downplayed the whole situation.

When he returned home you were pacing up and down in the living room, chewing the inside of your cheeks and your nails to pieces because you could've lost him, Bucky could've died and he was acting as if it were nothing.

"Doll?" You could hear the worry in his voice as he placed the shopping bags on the kitchen counter and walked over to you, standing in front of you to stop your movement, pulling your hand from your mouth and kissing your knuckles.

It was supposed to calm you, and it almost did, but as his soft lips grazed your hand, and his eyes met yours, your mind kept wandering to the fact that he could've died.

This moment could've never happened, instead, you'd have Sam or Steve at your door, trying to deliver the news of their best friend's death, your lover.

"Honey speak to me" He looked utterly confused, but the look only made you feel angry.

How could he be so reckless?

"I just got off the phone with Sam."

He froze, eyebrows furrowing and taking a step away from you, waiting for you to explain.

Your gaze didn't move from the floor, trying to even out the anger and worry rushing through you, settling like a heavy rock in your stomach.

"He told me about the missions, about how you've been acting."

"What do you mean, how I've been acting?" He scoffed, sounding offended, and you sighed.

"How reckless you've been acting. Sam said that Tony's considering pulling you out of missions! How many times have you endangered yourself like this? How many times is it gonna take for you to realise that you could fucking die out there, James."

Your voice was stern, and the tone felt foreign against your tongue. Bucky's kept his face hard, refusing to show any emotion, but you could see the way his jaw clenched harshly, eyes glued to the corner of the room, ignoring your fiery glare.

"Were you ever going to tell me? I thought that all the injuries you got were fairly normal for the jobs you do, but when I hear that you run into open fire, that you make decisions on your own before talking to your team, that you've gotten fucking stabbed in the past, and you never told me, how do you expect me to react?"

He sighed heavily through his nose, jaw ticking in annoyance towards his friend, angry that he had told you even though it wasn't his place.

"I told him not to tell you." His voice was gruff, the words spoken harshly under his breath and you felt your anger flair again.

"What and you think that's okay?!"

His gaze shot to yours, looking at you incredulously.

"Bucky we're partners! You're supposed to tell me this shit, you're supposed to tell me when you've nearly died on a mission, you're supposed to trust me."

"You think I don't trust you?!" His voice was slightly raised and you felt your annoyance spike, "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry."

"Of course I'm gonna worry, James. This is a big deal, I can't believe you've been getting seriously injured and not telling me."

"Well, I don't think it's that big of a deal, Sam shouldn't have fucking told you. This wouldn't be happening if he had just kept his mouth shut, but no! Of course not!" Bucky's eyebrows were drawn in tight with annoyance, wishing you'd just drop the subject, "I'm not stupid, I know what I'm doing."

"What the hell do you mean 'You know what you're doing?' You know that you're not supposed to endanger yourself to complete a mission, yet you do it anyway. I'm glad Sam told me because otherwise, I doubt I'd ever find out!."

"I don't see how what I do on missions is anything to do with you. Sam is exaggerating. I'm fine!"

As Bucky's voice raised, you started to lose focus, flashbacks of your past echoing in your mind and in his annoyance, Bucky didn't notice the way your eyes had gone distant, losing sight of the man in front of you, the man you loved, and forming the image of the man you still see in nightmares, the man you're so terrified of seeing in the street that you haven't stepped foot in Queens since leaving him.

You could almost feel the sting of his palm against your cheek, the burn of his hand, tight around your wrist, and you tried to remind yourself that it wasn't real. It had been months since you'd had an episode, and your steps to control them were hard to find with the false image of your abuser so clear in front of you.

"Are you even listening to me?" The statement dragged you back to reality and you felt yourself calm when your eyes focused in on Bucky, reminding yourself that your ex wasn't here, that Bucky wasn't like that, he would never, but as he raised his arm to push his hair out of his face, everything flew out the window and in the moment, you were 21 again and you were sure he was going to hit you, your exes face flashing behind your eyes again.

You flinched, a gasp falling from your lips as your eyes squeezed shut and your head ducked down, breathing heavily through your nose as you awaited the hit.

Time slowed.

Bucky froze completely, his eyes wide and frantic as he quickly stumbled away from you, shaking his head as self-hatred ran through his veins, disgusted at himself for making you think even in the slightest, that he would ever hurt you.

"Doll?" He sounded absolutely broken.

Your head shot up, panic flooding through you when you realised what you had done and pain replacing the feeling when you saw the agony on Bucky's face.

"Y/n, I- I would never-" He kept his voice at a pained whisper, not wanting to scare you further as he stayed at a distance.

You collapsed to the floor, sitting on your knees as the weight of the situation pulled you down. Your hands raised to cover your mouth as a sob threatened to tear through you, so fucking ashamed of what had just happened, so fucking ashamed that your ex had done this to you, and you had let him for so long, ashamed that he still haunted you.

"Babydoll I-" He struggled to find the words, terrified that he had just lost you, wanting to reach out and hold you but scared shitless of hurting you more than he already had, "I don't know what- I'm so fucking sorry y/n, I can't- I can't even fathom the thought of-"

His voice trailed off, unable to even say the words and you felt your guilt tenfold.

"N-No Bucky, I'm sorry I thought-" You struggled to speak through your crying, hot tears flowing down your cheeks as you rocked yourself gently in an attempt to self-soothe.

"Why are you apologising honey? This is on me, this is-"

"No, it isn't, I promise Buck this isn't you, it's.." You couldn't get the words out, you couldn't tell him, "Just come here, please."

You wanted him to wrap his arms around you, you needed him to know that it wasn't him, you know the way his mind works and you knew that by now he would already be drowning in guilt and self-hatred.

"I don't think that I should. I don't want to hurt you, I can't- I can't hurt you" You smiled at him gently through your tears and your chin wobbled as you saw the tears running down his cheeks too.

"It's okay. I'm okay Bucky, I just- I-I need you over here, I need you - I need you to touch me. I need you."

He was over in an instant, falling to the floor beside you and letting out a huge sigh of relief when you instantly wrapped yourself around him, tucking your head into the crook of his neck and crawling into his lap, needing to be as close to him as possible, to rid the memories of the pain, to remind yourself that his touch is good, his touch is safe.

Arms enveloped you and he held you as tight as possible, the both of you crying.

After the two of you had calmed down and a comfortable silence enveloped you, Bucky knew he would have to break it.

"Why did you think that I would hit you?" He asked, his voice tentative and gentle and you sighed, knowing that it was time for you to tell him.

"I didn't, I don't, I promise."

You lifted your head from his shoulder but still stayed on his lap, instead, resting your forehead against his.

"Then why-?"

"I thought I was better, I-I thought it was all over but I just- I lost myself again. Everything got all foggy and I lost where I was and I just, I thought I was there but-" The floodgates opened again and you knew that Bucky had no clue what you were talking about but the words just kept coming.

Bucky's eyebrows were furrowed tightly and when your vague, confusing explanation only made his worry grow, he felt himself pulling you even tighter against him.

"Doll, Did someone hurt you? Is that why you're always walking on eggshells around me? Is that what the nightmares are about?" He struggled against the words, not wanting to say them because he didn't want to believe them and he watched in agony as you swallowed hard and nodded slowly, your hands coming to rest on the back of his neck as you continued to hold your forehead against his.

He refused to let his anger show, he wouldn't do that to you, especially with you so fragile, but he couldn't hide the pained shaky breath he let out at your confession, "Fuck, I'm so sorry. God, I'm so sorry that that happened to you. Was it your ex? Did he hurt you?"

You nodded again, doing your breathing exercises, and calming yourself so that you could explain your situation fully to your partner.

"I should've told you, I know, I just, I'm so angry that I'm still like this, I just wish it would all go away and I could forget about what he did. I thought I was better. I can't stand that I'm still so haunted by that asshole" Bucky nodded along as you spoke, brushing his fingers up and down your back to help calm you.

"It's okay, Doll. Things like that don't just go away. Believe me, I wish they did too, but things will get better, I promise you that. Thank you for telling me."

You scoffed in self-deprecation, "I should've told you ages ago."

"That doesn't matter, you've told me now, and I'm sure it wasn't easy, so thank you for sharing" His voice was so gentle, his hands caressing your back almost making you feel sleepy.

"And Buck?" He hummed in response, letting you know that he was listening, "About the mission thing, I'm just worried about you. I can't lose you, I need you, and I need you alive."

A gentle smile lifted his frown and he nodded in understanding, feeling bad for getting mad in the first place, and you leaned back, looking down at him, your hands playing with his hair.

"I know. I'm sorry for being an idiot, It's just so hard to look at them and remember what they did to me and know what they've done to so many innocent people and I just lose it, all rationality out the window" You nodded at him, understanding how painful some of the missions must be.

"I'm sorry I got so upset with you, and I'm sorry I went to Sam instead of talking to you. Don't be mad at him, I kinda forced him to tell me" You gave him a sheepish look and he breathed out a small laugh, his nose crinkling like you always loved.

"It's okay doll, I'm sorry for being so careless and hiding the stuff about the missions, I promise I'll be more careful, I gotta make sure I always come home to my sweet girl. And don't worry about Sam, you deserved to know and I know what you're like."

You tutted at him and he smiled in response, the adorable, loving look on his face making you pull him into the sweetest, softest kiss which he instantly returned.

After sitting together in each others embrace for a while, the yawns eventually started. You were both positively exhausted from all the emotions you had both just experienced so Bucky wrapped your legs around his waist and lifted you both from the floor, discarding the groceries still left in bags in the kitchen and carrying you to bed, holding you as close as physically possible as you both drifted off to sleep.

#bucky oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #james buchanan barnes #bucky requests

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whydoyouwantmyname · 2 years ago

Text

One year later (Part 5)

Masterlist

-A year later, you were standing at the counter, coffee in hand as you enjoyed the quiet bliss of your apartment. The sound of the door opening and closing bringing you back to reality as you looked towards Sam, his body covered in the grey sweatsuit, and sweat rimmed the collar as he looked at you, “How was your run?”

“Great.” He stated, almost sounding out of breath, as you put your coffee down and turned towards your fridge, pulling out his bottle of orange juice and tossing it towards him, his hands lifting to catch it with ease. Before opening it, and taking a sip he continued, “So you know how I was telling you about the blonde hunk dude that has been lapping me every day this week?”

“Yeah, did you finally lap him?”

“No but I found out who he is.”

“Is he the new love of your life?” You joked

“No, but he is Steve Rogers.” You paused, coffee in hand again as you looked at him in surprise, “You have been having a foot race with Captain America for the past week?”

“Yeah, and I invited him to come to the VA, maybe sit in on a meeting. Told him I needed him to make me look good to one of the female counselors.”

“Oh really, bet she is a real classy girl. However, maybe you should have invited him to dinner, less people to question him about his life.”

“I don’t think that the guys will harass him too much, do you?”

“No, but you have failed to take into account that Melody has the biggest crush on him, and loves to ask a million questions.” You smiled, before taking a sip, the realization slowly coming to his face.

-That evening he opened the nightstand drawer, and glanced at the box that was sitting there. You both knew it was there, and you were sure Sam wouldn’t care if you just one day took the contents out and put it on your finger, but you didn’t want to take the moment of him asking you away from him. It wasn’t like he was scared to ask you, but you had both been so busy in the last year that it always slipped his mind. Besides, it wasn’t like you didn’t love him, because if that was true, you wouldn't still be living with him, or sleeping in his bed.

-He never told you about the bed

-When he came to the VA, Sam looked at him, and said, “I have someone I want you to meet.”

“Is it the girl you want to impress?”

“Yeah, she is in her office right now, if you got a minute we can go.”

“Sure.” He replied, thinking he meant office in the building, Sam scooping up his keys and jacket as he led Steve to Dagger. The drive was quiet, and upon arriving Steve questioned, “I thought you said she was at her office?”

“I did, my guess is my dining room table is covered in her notes.” He smiled, as Steve raised an eyebrow, “You didn’t mention you were living with the girl.”

“I guess I left that part out, guess it might be a good time to mention I plan on marrying her one day.” Sam responded as they exited the car.

“Honey, I hope you’re decent, I have a guest.” Sam called as you turned around, and looked at the two men.

“Well, I hope he likes Nova and chicken marsala.” You smiled as you approached Steve, a hand outstretched as you continued, “[Y/N] Bardot, it is a pleasure to meet you Captain.”

-Steve stayed most of the night, all of you crammed onto the couch with bowls of popcorn as you acted like old friends. Steve couldn’t help but feel comfortable as you and Sam joked with him. Finally at midnight Steve looked to you both and stated, “Well I better get back to my place.”

“Do you need me to give you a lift back to your bike?” You asked, as Sam put your empty bowls in the sink, Steve smiling as he replied, “No ma’am, I will just walk…”

“Nonsense, give me two seconds to grab my keys, and my jacket.” You replied, rising to collect those two items from the bedroom as Sam looked at him, “Did I forget to mention she doesn’t like the answer no?”

-On the car ride back he asked you something you hadn’t been asked for years, “Where did you grow up?”

“New York City, by the Metro-General hospital. My dad was a neurosurgeon there, so he wanted to live close to his work.”

“Were you two close?”

“Not at all, however I am slightly glad about that. If I had a healthy relationship with him, I probably would have never moved here, and I would have never gotten my masters as quickly as I did, and I wouldn’t have met Sam.”

“How long have you all been dating?”

“2010.” You smiled, your car slowing as you pulled up to the building and looked at the blonde super soldier, “Now, I am hoping to see you again soon, Sam needs some friendly competition in his life.”

“Well I am sure you offer enough of that.”

“Not when it comes to athletics, but there is a reason we are no longer allowed to play chess at the apartment.”

-When you got home, Sam was waiting for you, “I see you didn’t run off with Steve.”

“Never, he is too muscular for me anyway, besides I have the perfect man right here.”

-The next morning when you woke up to Sam making coffee you quietly asked, “Did you at least get his number, that way you can invite him to dinner next week?”

“No, but my guess is I will see him on my run today, I can invite him then.”

“Good, and while you are at it, can you please find out what his favorite dish is.”

“Why?”

“Cause everyone deserves their favorite home cooked meal Sam, even 95 year old super soldiers.” You smiled, before taking your first sip of coffee.

-A few days later, you woke up to chatter in the living room, and pulled yourself out of bed, the smell of breakfast drawing you into the space. Standing there was Steve and a red haired woman, with a Russian accent, and for some reason, she was wearing your clothes. Her eyes shined as you replied, “Steve, you didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend.”

“Sweetheart,” Sam said, his voice serious as you looked at him with a slight tilt to your head, “If anyone comes to the door, don’t answer.”

“What?”

“Call into work too, you are not to leave this apartment.” He remarked, before going to leave with the duo

“Or what? You will have me evicted?”

“Just….” Sam looked at you, “Please, for me.”

“Fine, but I swear if you come in with bullet wounds, I am not digging those bullets out with the silverware.”

-“I like her.” Natasha remaked as she left your house, Sam smiling as they descended the stairs, “Well if this all works out, maybe I can schedule you two a coffee date.”

-You closed all the blinds, and made sure all the lights were dim, as you sat in the darkness of your living room, you had your phone opened, and waited for the alerts to start. And when they did, your gut told you Sam was there, or maybe it was just because you pieced it all together when you saw the Project Falcon file, laying beside the framed picture of Riley.

-When Dagger crashed on the bridge Sam muttered, “[Y/N] is gonna be pissed.”

-When Sam got to the hideout he asked Hill to go get you, and then he called you, “I need you to get in the van, Bardot.”

“Okay.” You answered, grabbing your duffel bag, which you had packed earlier with clothes for you both, the ring box and the Project Falcon files.

-When you arrived, an agent took you to a room within the bunker, they said nothing to you as they left. You were there for almost an hour before Sam walked in, your back was leaning against the headboard as you looked to him, “Promise me one thing?”

“Anything.”

“You will come out of this whole.”

-Later that night Steve invited you to the table with them, where you met Hill and Fury, and officially got Natasha’s name. As you all sat around, Sam looked at you, “Hey babe, if anyone would know this, it would be you.”

“Yes?”

“Why would Stephen Strange be considered a threat to Hydra?”

“No idea, unless Shield is in need of a good neurosurgeon, or they made him an offer that he refused. Personally I can’t see Stephen Strange’s ego allowing him to help anyone on either side, unless they offered him an opportunity he couldn’t pass up.”

-Later when it was just Sam and Steve, Steve looked at Sam, before glancing at you and Natasha, who seemed to be getting along quite well, his voice a whisper, “You aren’t going to tell her are you?”

“No, not until I know exactly why Sitwell listed her as a threat to Hydra.” He replied, Sitwell’s words still ringing in his head

“We used it to keep track of all threats to Hydra, Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, [Y/N] Bardot…”

-Steve pulled you aside, and was asking you different tactics he could use to get through to Bucky, you gladly replied and helped Steve figure out how to best get through to him.

"What do I do if I can't get through to him though?"

"Well Steve, you are going to have to do whatever it takes." You replied, before he just nodded

"You know, if you were around back in the 40's I think you would have fit right in with Buck and I." He replied after

"Oh really? Why is that?"

"Cause you don't seem to give up on people." He replied, the thought of how you gave up on your old life haunting you, however you just smiled, and nodded.

-While they were taking down Shield you were in the bunker with Nick, as he waited for the chopper, his eye fixed on you as you cleaned the kitchen. Finally he spoke, "So Miss Strange, care to enlighten me on why you changed your name?"

At that name your eyes met his, widening as he continued, "I am a level 10, former Shield director, I have my sources. Don't worry though, I won't tell anyone."

"And how do I know I can trust you, don't get me wrong sir, but I…"

"Have no reason to trust me, I know. However after this your boyfriend will probably be offered a position on the Avengers, and I am sure he won't be leaving you behind, even if he doesn't know who you really are. Meaning I need to know to protect my team, if having a Strange in the facility will be a problem."

"No sir, just a girl running away from her daddy. However I have to ask, the data you are about to release…"

"There is no evidence of you in either of our databases, you are still just a Bardot, and I will make sure to keep it that way."

"Thank you Fury." You smiled, before you heard the chopper, "Have a safe flight Director."

-When the agents took you to the Hospital to check on Steve, you immediately ran into Sam's arms, his body wincing as you tightly gripped him, before pulling back, "Thanks for keeping your promise."

"Thanks for not squeezing me to death." He chuckled out.

-While sitting beside Steve, you looked at him, "Do you think you got through to Buck?"

"I don't know, but I do know that I need to find him."

-When they discharged Steve he stayed in your spare room for a few days, each morning you would walk up and make them both a big breakfast, and coffee for after their runs.

-On the first night he was there he offered both you and Sam a home at the Stark Tower, and even stated that Fury talked to Tony, and told him to allow you to be the Stark psychologist. You looked at Sam, and thanked Steve for the opportunity, before adding, "However it is Sam's decision, not mine."

-The next day you called into work and terminated your position, you spent the whole day packing up the small home you had both made. A smile on your face when both boys arrived home, and offered to help.

-On the last day you were in your now empty apartment, you made a special request at one of the finer dining establishments, and as you all sat on the furniture you were leaving behind, it arrived. In the Styrofoam containers were large pieces of lasagna, and homemade garlic bread. As Steve looked at it in disbelief you muttered, "Peggy was nice enough to include that you loved lasagna in one of her journals, so I figured why not."

"Thank you." He whispered before you all dug in, the rest of the night filled with laughter.

-Before leaving you all stood in the cemetery, looking at Nick Fury's grave. Each of you glancing at the figure who joined you as he offered both Sam and Steve spots on his European adventure. When they denied he shook both their hands and then used his other hand to shake yours, a crumpled piece of paper hit your palm, along with a smooth, metal. As his hand slipped from yours you grasped the objects and shoved your hand into the pocket of your black leather jacket, and smiled. Neither Sam nor Steve noticed an exchange even occurred.

-"You two don't have to come with me." Steve stated as he looked over Bucky's file.

"We know, when do we start?" Sam replied

"As soon as we get you moved into your new home." Steve replied, as he closed the file and looked towards you both.

-You and Sam drove Baloo all the way to New York, Steve not far behind on his bike as you sang off key the whole way there.

-Upon arriving at the Stark Tower, Hill immediately led you and Sam to a room that was bigger than your apartment back in DC. "Welcome home."she replied, "[Y/N], tomorrow Tony should have your new office all set up. I hope you don't mind but we took the liberty of setting up your books in there."

"Not at all, thank you Maria." You replied, as Sam gripped your hand.

-Once she left you both took in the space, a sudden wave of familiarity washed over you as you looked at the condo, which had an identical layout to other condos in the city. As the sun lowered however you heard a soft knock on the metal door, and turned to see Steve walking through, "Hope you both like it."

"Mr. Stark went above and beyond with these rooms." You replied, as Steve chuckled, "Well you can tell him that yourselves, he has requested that we have a small party to welcome you to the team."

"He certainly does love his parties." You answered, as Sam looked between you both, before stating, "How long until…."

"He told everyone to arrive at 8, so my guess is be ready by 7:30."

-When he left Sam immediately went into the shower, leaving you alone to figure out what to wear. However as soon as he closed the bathroom door you withdrew the crumpled piece of paper, and the hard drive. As you uncrumpled the paper you saw Fury's handwriting slanted along the page,

Bardot,

I called in a few favors, and had all evidence linking your new identity to your old one permanently erased. This harddrive contains the only copies of your existence as Miss Strange.

Hopefully this is enough to show that you can trust me.

Fury

-Under his name he had scribbled his phone number, just in case of emergencies

-Your eyes started to water, and finally a wave of relief washed over you at the thought that you no longer needed to be fearful of someone finding out who you really were.

-When Sam exited the bathroom he saw you wearing the black dress he had bought you for your birthday, and the silver heels he purchased to match your royal blue dress. He couldn't help but smile as he watched you applying your red lipstick in front of the vanity mirror.

"Take a picture, it will last longer." You replied, noticing him staring through the mirror.

"I just might one of these days." His response caused him to move towards you, his chin landing against your shoulder as his nose was met with the light notes of your bath and body perfume.

"We better get down there, and meet the team." You replied, taking his hand within yours before leading him to the elevator.

-A small gathering for Tony Stark meant at least a 100 people were in a room, a fully stocked bar and pool tables decorated the room, along with millions of seats, both in the space, and on the balcony. The balcony had several fire pits set up, along with a small rectangular pool with pool floats, and color changing LED lights. Thankfully since you arrived early, you were able to meet the team, and then were taken aside by Natasha. "You spend too much time with Wilson anyway, what do you say we just do shots?"

"Yes please." You replied, before taking the first 2oz glass from Clint, who was pouring, and poured the clear liquid down your throat.

-At some point Tony walked up to the three of you however, and touched your back, drawing your attention, "I need to speak with you."

"Oh can't it wait Tony?" Clint asked as Tony smiled, "Sadly it can not."

"Sure Tony, whatever you need." You smiled as he led you from the room, and into an empty room down the hall. His lab was visible as you looked down the hall, and then to the door he was unlocking. As he turned the knob and turned on the lights he revealed a furnished office, all your books sorted by colors on a shelf behind the desk, two comfortable looking couches decorated the room, along with a chair that was positioned towards the window that overlooked the city. A framed photograph of you and Sam sat beside a brand new laptop. As you took in the office Tony replied, "I hope you like it, Miss Potts put quite a bit of thought into the design of the room.

"I love it, I will make sure to thank her when we return to the party."

"That's why I have pulled you aside, we aren't going back to the party, at least not for another hour."

"Why are we staying away from the festivities for an hour?" Your eyebrow raised as he looked towards the ground, "Cause that is typically how long Dr. Stephen Strange stays at my parties. After an hour of photo ops and networking, he grows bored, and will leave without so much as a farewell. I don't blame you for leaving, he seems like a real ass."

"How do you…"

"Who do you think wiped your files Bardot?" He asked, taking a seat on your couch, "Unfortunately I forgot he is normally listed on our guest list, and when Happy made a joke about the fun sucker coming up, that is when I realized my mistake. Thankfully I only advertised the introduction of Mr. Wilson, whom I am sure Strange has no interest in speaking to, but I don't want to cause you any discomfort."

"Thank you."

-For an hour you and Tony sat in your office, and after several moments of silence, you decided to spark a conversation with the Millionaire playboy. This conversation lasted longer than an hour though, and by the end of it you and Tony were laughing to the point of tears.

-At 1 in the morning you both decided it was time to go to bed, and due to how new you were, he escorted you back to your room. Looking at him you stated, "Thanks for tonight Tony, I really appreciated it."

- After exchanging goodnights you opened the door to find Sam and Steve seated at the dining room table, all Intel on Bucky spread across the plaid tablecloth. Both of them so fixated on the papers they failed to even notice you as you kicked off your heels and started towards the bathroom.

-After you changed, you went straight into the king sized bed, sinking into the marshmallow mattress as you pulled the comforter up around you.

-The next morning you hid the flash drive in your office, in a small trinket box beside all of your Stephen Strange studies.

-Tony often found himself in your office, and sometimes you would end up just talking about nothing, and other times you were the only one who could ease his mind. You were one of the few people that he would talk about the NYC attack with.

-You were the one that proposed using a string of phrases to calm Hulk down, Natasha volunteered to do it, which you said would probably be the most effective method.

-You, Clint and Natasha were always seen in the common area together when they weren't training. Normally you would be seated in the floor, in front of the coffee table, looking up at the two, Clint’s hands always twirling an arrow, while Nat rolled her eyes.

-On occasion, you would fellowship in Nat’s room, and leave there slightly stumbling due to too much vodka. Upon entering the condo, Sam couldn’t help but crack a smile at you.

-Nat always wanted to go to the expensive stores with you and look at the clothing section. She always thought it was comical that you would wear your hair up in a ponytail that stuck out of the back of the baseball cap that Tony bought you, eyes always covered by your round, purple sunglasses, and your outfit not to revealing, even on the hottest summer days, you insisted on wearing one of Sam’s hoodies and your baggy jeans. She had no idea it was because these were the stores you always occupied as a child, and feared the employees who once knew you by first name would recognize you.

-Twice a week you would make poptart runs, always picking up new flavors to try, and returning with them to stock the pantry for the God of Thunder.

-You were the only one, other than Thor, who knew where the stash of Asgardian Ale was.

-Thor adored you, often when you were deep into a book he would sit beside you, and once he noticed you had finished your chapter, would engage in conversation. Soon the book would be discarded and his booming laughter would fill the small space as you shared comical details of your life with him.

-He always talked with you about Jane. And finally one day you looked at him and whispered, “Sometimes Thor, it is best to wish the toxic people well, and let them go.”

-Clint loves teaching you how to shoot a bow, and often would decorate the target with Sam’s photographs. You normally missed, however you never shared that you were purposely aiming for the backgrounds of the photos.

-You knew about Laura and the kids, Clint told you one day when it was just the two of you in his room. You were sitting on the counter of his kitchen while he cooked leftovers, the smell of the food intoxicating. You looked at him and replied, “I never knew you could cook more than mini wheats.”

“I can’t, Mrs. Barton on the other hand….”

“Wait, I thought your parents were partying it up in the ghost realm ?” You joked as he agreed, “They are, but my wife is a young queen, currently raising two jesters.”

-He showed you pictures after that, and one day even took you with him and Natasha to visit them, the kids instantly loved you.

-You and Nat left before him, both of you agreeing to pick him up in a few days, on the ride back, you sat in the seat, legs over the arm of the chair as you looked towards Nat, “Do you think that’s going to happen to me?”

“What?”

“I am going to end up in a safe house, raising the kids on my own, while Sam runs around and saves the world, even after he has retired.”

“No, mostly because I don’t think Tony would ever let him force you into the domestic housewife role.”

-Bruce likes having you around in the lab, since you and Tony were so close, he loved to show you how to create in the lab, making it so that Bruce saw you extremely often. He was fearful you would look at him as a psychological test subject, who wanted nothing more from him than the answer to what makes the big guy tick. However he quickly learned that was the wrong thought process, since you never brought the big guy up.

-Rhodey often joked that you were replacing him as Tony’s best friend, you were quick to rebuttal, “Never, I could never handle him like you do.”

-One day when you wandered into the lab, you found Tony and Bruce bickering quietly, and quickly took your place at a computer, looking for a file you had emailed yourself to show Tony for a future invention idea. However as soon as Tony noticed you he piped up, “Bardot, just the woman I wanted to see, tell me, do you think creating AI would be a good idea?”

“It depends what you want the AI to do.”

-That’s when he told you the plans for Ultron, and you looked towards Bruce, “What do you think B?”

“I think it is doable, but the electronic system we would need to create in order to make a AI system as lifelike as Tony is invisioning has never been done before.”

“But it can be done, we just need someone who has a vast knowledge of the human brain, and understands what makes humans behave in a helpful, protective, justifying manner.” He stated, turning towards you, as you asked the question, “You mean like a psychologist?”

“No.” Tony answered, “I need the psychologist who got her masters at 21, and can function at the same genius level that Banner and I can. Also she needs to already know how to best communicate with us, and can clearly articulate her ideas on how to get this system up and running.” Tony answered

“Where do I sign then?” You asked as Tony smiled wide

-Tony always kept tabs on your father for you, that way exposure to him and the possibility of him exposing your born identity were very minimum. However when you would hear he was attending a gala, or going to the same brunch the Avengers were expected to attend, and Sam would ask you to be his plus one to the free buffet, you were left to come up with excuses.

-There was one week where they had so many events to attend in that one week alone. Every event scheduled allowed a plus one, meaning that you were destined to be Sam’s. However you kept telling him you were feeling nauseous, and couldn’t attend, since your father would be attending everyone as well. At the end of that week, Sam came into the bedroom, and tossed a small, pink cardboard box onto the comforter, your eyes lifting from your laptop to look at it, “What’s that?”

“A pregnancy test.”

“I can see that, what I meant by that was more of a why did you feel the need to buy…”

“You said you were nauseous almost every night for the past two weeks, so this way at least we have all our bases covered.

-It came back negative, which you already knew. That afternoon you looked up new excuses for not attending the events, since you didn’t want to pee on a stick for the rest of your premenopausal life just because you wanted to avoid your father.

-Steve was at your place every night, all three of you leaning over the files you had dug up, searching for any clues that could point you in the direction of Bucky, and every time being unsuccessful.

-One morning after training Steve came up to the office alone, opening your door he saw you furiously typing the keys on your keyboard, trying to describe the next groundbreaking electronic you and Tony would create in the lab. His smile wide as he lightly knocked on the open door, “You got a minute?”

“For you Steve Rogers, always. What’s up?”

“Want to go get coffee?”

“Sure.” You smiled, closing the laptop and raising to follow him into the autumn weather.

-As you walked around Central Park with the warm beverages Steve asked, “Do you ever think we will find him?”

“I honestly do, I mean we have to try at least. You even said it seemed almost like you got through to him, meaning there is still a scrape of your Bucky in there, and it is because of that we have to try.”

-Steve has a spare bedroom in your condo, Tony meant for it to be a spare office for you to work “at home” but you asked Happy to help you move all the stuff out after a week, and bought all new vintage bedroom furniture to decorate the room with, along with found pictures of Steve in the present, and put a sepia filter on them before printing and framing them. The shelves were filled with all the classics, and a few modern books you thought he might enjoy, along with several, blank sketchbooks, and a whole new pencil set.

-Sometimes when they weren’t looking for Bucky, Steve would do a still life of you, his hand always moving in short strokes across the page as he looked at you. Sam occasionally would be the subject of a drawing as well, but normally you were the easiest thing at his disposal to draw. Plus you unknowingly sat still for a very long time, making you the perfect model.

-You came up with the name Veronica, Tony wanted to name the suit Ruby, and Bruce was in favor of HEDI (Hulk’s Emergency Defense Isolation).

-At least once a week, you were insistent that everyone eat dinner together in the common area. You would spend the whole day cooking, and then after hours of dealing with the heat, steam, burns and grease, you would serve up a plate for everyone and tell Jarvis to summon them.

-There was one night after your weekly group dinner that Tony suggested playing a game, which you all agreed would be doable for that night, since none of you really had plans for that evening, or the following day. The game he suggested was Never have I ever, and as he proposed it, he pulled out the shot glasses, and the deep amber liquid.

-It started off easy, Tony asked first, “Never have I ever cheated on a test.” This resulted in most of the team taking a shot, while you, Tony and Steve just watched, “I am scared to know what kind of test Thor cheated on.” You replied as the Asgardian looked at you, “I will gladly tell you all about it later Lady [Y/N].”

-You hated that he called you Lady [Y/N], but he did it still because he found your annoyance at the formality cute.

-other than Thor’s cheating story, whenever asked to explain a story, everyone complied and told the story that went with the question. Your personal favorite was when Bruce asked, “Never have I ever woken up in bed with a stranger.”

Tony took a shot, and as he placed it down he replied, “If anyone was wondering it was 5 strangers, and I had no idea how I got there. Was still drunk too when I woke up I think.”

-At around question 10 or 11 however the questions got a bit harder to answer, “Never have I ever stolen?”

-As you took a shot, Bruce piped up, “Now I have to hear your story, Bardot.”

You didn’t want to tell them how you stole money from your father, so you smiled and replied, “I steal Sam’s clothes daily, so I think that counts.”

-At question 37 though they kicked it up a notch, Nat looked at you and said, “Never have I ever had someone call me Madam in bed.”

-You took the shot, and could see Sam turning red across the circle from you, as you lowered it you muttered, “Never telling you anything again.”

“Never have I ever called someone madam in bed.” Clint followed up, as Tony and Sam took shots, everyone looked at Tony confused and replied, “Well what else am I supposed to call the Madam Secretary.”

-At question 67 however, you looked at Tony, slight panic in your face as Steve asked, “Never have I ever lied about my identity outside of a mission.”

-His goal was to get Natasha, but before she could answer you politely asked, “Oh shit, what time is it?”

“9:30.” Bruce replied

“I have to go do a phone conference with Pepper, I’ll be back though as soon as it is over.” You answered, before hurrying to the elevator, no one had a second thought. As the doors closed through, and the elevator rose slightly, you pressed the stop button, head going into your knees as you sank to the floor, tears slowly slipped from your eyes. When you made the decision to run away from the Strange name, you never thought you would ever feel bad for withholding the information from people, but for some reason withholding it from the Avengers, the people you were starting to consider family, just felt wrong.

-“Miss Bardot, Mr. Stark would like to know if you are okay?” Jarvis asked, as you lifted your head and looked at the small camera in the corner, “Please tell him I am perfectly okay, and will come rejoin the game in a moment.”

-However you soon heard metal boots hit the top of the elevator and looked up to see the top tile of the roof get removed, before Tony dropped down carefully. He sat beside you and didn’t say anything, until finally you leaned over and gently placed your head on his shoulder, triggering his arm to go around you.

-After a while he softly whispered, “I am so proud of you.”

“Why?”

“Because you could have ended up like me.”

“A playboy millionaire who woke up one day after a night of partying to 5 probably drop dead gorgeous strangers ready to have sex with you?”

“No. Emotionless, arrogant, sarcastic, you could have pushed everyone away, been prideful, rude, and honestly just acted like a pompous ass.”

“I don’t think you are a pompous ass.” You whispered

“Trust me kid, I definitely am. Besides at your age I definitely had never been in a 4 year, healthy relationship, or been as humble as you. If I were you, I would be boasting to everyone about having earning my masters at the age of 21, or about working for one of the most distinguished, new age tech companies in the world, or that you live with the avengers, and are dating one of their newest members, who was also in the military. You genuinely don’t seem to care about any of that though, you just present yourself with grace and ease, and smile to everyone no matter who they are.”

“Thanks Tony.” You whispered as he pressed a light kiss on your temple, before whispering, “Never feel bad for getting out, because getting out made you a better person.”

-After that day you guys always played a game after group dinners.

-Since Sam was normally helping Steve, you were left to play video games alone, however you noticed a lot of self improvement during this period.

-The only day Sam and Steve would pause the search to watch TV with you was on Nova Wednesday.

Masterlist

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bookishofalder · 4 years ago

Text

Catfish & Sunshine

Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader Mini Series

Summary: Frankie is secretly in love with his best friend. Thanks in part to Benny’s shitty horror movie recommendation and stray ice cream, feelings come out unexpectedly during movie night.

Warnings: Language, SMUT, little angst, lots of fluff, poor writer understanding of US military benefits/retirement. WC 8,215.

A/N: I dreamed this up after rewatching Triple Frontier about a month ago (for the plot, of course) and let it sit for a while. Became inspired to finish it off this week and share it with you all-so please let me know your thoughts!

For over a decade, Saturday nights were, for Frankie Morales, usually spent with his best friends over drinks at their favourite bar. When deployed, the bar was instead smuggled whiskey that they shared under the stars, an attempt to imagine they were anywhere other than the current hellhole. As Special Ops soldiers, Frankie and his buddies had been through the worst of the worst together, until one by one they retired or were forced to retire, and then they were back to regular appearances at the local bar, for a while the five of them, then four.

Until Frankie met you.

Had someone come up to him during one of those nights years before and told Frankie that one day he’d be bringing you along to the bar to join him and the guys, he’d have laughed in their faces. But for a while, that was exactly what occurred, until you and Frankie grew so close that you usually ended up making different plans, like going mini-golfing, or lounging at his apartment and watching movies. Not that you didn’t love the guys, all whom you’d met except for Santi as he had been off the grid for just over a year when you and Frankie had met.

It was thanks to the elder Miller brother, Will, that he had even met you at all. Working at the VA office, Will had learned of one of the few retirement perks they had for putting their asses on the line for their country-physical therapy. And you came highly recommended, a star PT who had worked magic over his friends' ailments. Knowing Frankie suffered from shoulder and neck pains, Will handed him your card and encouraged him to book an appointment.

He hadn’t called straight away. He’d popped your card onto his fridge and every day he’d pass by it, consider calling, and then talk himself out of it. Until the pain became too much to bear, his latest menial job just a little too physical for him, causing him to consider using again just to dull the ache. But he’d walked by your card moments later and instead of making a terrible decision he had promised himself he’d never make again, he called your office. Made an appointment with your friendly receptionist, who thankfully had his name already because Will had put in a good word for Frankie and asked that they try and get him in straight away, whenever he finally did call.

Two days later Frankie was standing nervously in the treatment room, looking at a wall decorated with your various degrees and certificates. He was anxious not only because he worried he’d get his hopes up that this would help the pain only to be disappointed, but also because he had no idea what to expect. Years of service as a pilot had made Frankie into a man who planned, meticulously, leaving little in the way of surprises. But he’d reasoned that calling the office back and demanding they give him a minute-by-minute account of what the appointment would be like was probably going too far.

And then you had walked in and immediately his worries morphed into concern over the fact that he required a beard trim, that he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed and popped his usual cap on, probably appearing a little gruff. And fuck, he almost couldn’t breathe when you gave him the most dazzling, genuine smile like you were greeting an old friend. You were bright, a rare energy radiating off of you as though you absorbed it straight from the fucking sun, and you were beautiful. No wonder Will had winked at Frankie when he’d handed you the business card.

You were observant, introducing yourself and seemingly sensing his overall discomfort. Instead of launching straight to business, you gestured for him to sit and spent a good twenty minutes casually chatting, pulling information you needed from him while putting him at ease entirely. He learned then that Will had already sung Frankie’s praises, given you the heads up that he was a worrier and even told a few stories that showcased his talents as a pilot.

If Frankie didn’t know any better, he’d think his friend was trying to play matchmaker.

All thoughts of Will Miller, and pretty much every other thing on the planet, vanished the moment you laid your expert hands on to Frankie. You zeroed in on the worst source of pain and slowly worked away, and he could only agree with Will that you had magic hands. He could have died happily right then, as you chatted away and brought him the most relief he’d felt in years. You would pause occasionally to check in with his pain levels and make sure he was doing alright, always asking him to look at you to answer and searching his face as he spoke to ensure he was telling the truth.

The care you gave Frankie in just one appointment was enough to start him falling. And he kept going back, multiple appointments a week that not only had him walking taller, feeling lighter on his feet and reducing his migraines to seldom, but also allowing him to get to know you better. You were the kind of sweet-natured person that cried when you saw a sad commercial, laughed freely to the lamest of jokes, and seemed to wake up on the right side of the bed every day. You were sunshine, literal, tangible sunshine, and Frankie thought you might not even realize it.

Though Frankie had convinced himself early on that a woman as beautiful and kind as you could never be interested in a grouch like him, with his crows' feet and a closet full of demons. The longer he knew you little seeds of hope would sprout whenever he made you laugh so hard you had to stop the treatment just to hold your stomach as you giggled. Or when you’d share something with him innocent enough but, upon reflection, he would think it wasn’t something a normal patient-provider relationship would find exchanged.

But there was the age difference, a decade between you both that, if nothing else worked, would successfully extinguish his hope. He had wondered if perhaps you were just a decent people person, that the friendship he felt was there was entirely one-sided.

Until one day, a few months into coming to you for treatment, Frankie sat waiting for you to come in the room only for you to appear looking entirely unlike yourself. He booked his appointments always for the end of the day, a routine that promised he would get plenty of uninterrupted time with you and the conversation could flow without a time constraint. He had been so surprised that you weren’t grinning as you stepped into the room that he stood abruptly, filling with concern.

When he asked, softly, if you were alright, you didn’t brush him off like he might have expected. You instead looked up at Frankie, your lower lip trembling as your eyes filled with tears, and sobbed unexpectedly. That sound had torn a hole right into his chest and he had pulled you straight into his arms and hugged you close before asking you to tell him what he could do to help.

You ended up explaining that you had come in that morning to the news that a regular patient of yours, an elderly man you’d known the entire time you’d been working for the VA office, had passed away in his sleep. And you’d apologized to Frankie while sniffling and wiping at the tears, telling him you’d held it in all day but couldn’t do that when your friend asked you, and he had been baffled to realize you were referring to him. As your friend.

He had cut off your apology to hug you close again, smoothing your hair gently as he whispered calming words and sentiments to you in Spanish. And though you didn’t speak the language, you had since told Frankie it had done exactly what he’d hoped and made you feel all the better.

After his treatment that day, Frankie asked if he could take you for a drink to toast your friend's life. He waited for you to close up the office, and then you’d followed him in your car to drive over to his usual bar. And you both drank to the veteran who passed, then ended up ordering dinner and remaining at the bar until late, talking even more freely outside of the office. If Frankie didn’t already have it bad for you, that night sure sealed it for him.

After that, you and Frankie began texting regularly, sometimes even calling one another to share a funny story or talk about something in the news. He had joined you for your former clients funeral, his hand rubbing comforting circles into your back before he took you out for lunch, then you’d ended up at his place to watch a cheesy movie, ordering pizza when you both realized there was a sequel that, if it was as bad as the first, you absolutely needed to watch.

And just like that, Frankie saw his life altered completely when you became his best friend.

Currently, Frankie was seated comfortably on his couch, where he frowned at the TV playing a horror movie that you had insisted was supposed to be good, because Benny had recommended it. Considering the younger Miller brother could barely sit still half the time, that was supposedly good enough for you.

You were tucked into Frankie’s side, eyes fixed on the screen until a jump scare had you jerk, then twist your face to press into his chest, because you hated the gory bits.

“Fuck! How does this not scare you even a little, Frankie?” You whined, unknowingly causing Frankie to swell with pride when he heard the note of admiration in your voice. He had started to suspect that the reason movie nights were becoming exclusively scary movies was that you were determined to find one that actually frightened him.

So far, you’d had no luck. But Frankie didn’t mind, because though you were already a touchy person in general, you were especially clingy when you queued up the next horror flick as if you trusted him to keep you safe.

Frankie didn’t reply, his chest rumbling with silent laughter that made you teasingly poke his side. He jumped, because you knew exactly where to aim, then cleared his throat. The scene ended, and he began to extract himself from your grip. “My sweet tooth is calling, cariño. I’m going to get some ice cream.”

You let him go, your head popping up, a big grin on your face, “Can I have some too, please?” And he nodded, smiling at you before walking across the open concept apartment and into his kitchen.

He stretched his back before opening the freezer where he had some bars next to an off-limits pint of Ben and Jerry’s. You had put it there months ago, telling Frankie it was for days when you got together and one of you needed to cry over a bad date. You called it ‘emergency’ ice cream. Frankie considered it to be ‘fuck you’ ice cream, because every time he opened his damn freezer he saw that pint and ended up thinking about how neither of you had been on a date with anyone since becoming friends over a year before, then falling into the same circular argument with himself-that the friendship was too important for him to feel the way he did, that he was jumping to conclusions and maybe you had gone on a few good dates that you just didn’t tell him about, and he was out of his mind if he thought you would ever feel the same way.

“Here you go, Sunshine,” He plopped back down next to you and passed you your bar, watching as you beamed at him widely, the inevitable result of his use of the nickname he’d dubbed you with a long time ago.

He desperately hoped you never realized the amount of affection truly behind that nickname.

Because how could he even begin to explain that you were literally sunshine in his dark life?

“Thank you,” You pulled the wrapper off, glancing at the movie and frowning. “Uhg. Benny promised the one was good! I’m starting to think he only recommends movies if they have at least one pair of tits.” You took the first bite of your ice cream bar while Frankie nearly choked on his own.

Amused as he was whenever you joked about your shared friends, Frankie also loved it when you swore. You were a goofy, happy little thing most of the time and curse words just seemed so out of character for you, pulling laughter from Frankie any time you caught him by surprise. You spent your days around gruff veterans and never seemed to lose any light, no matter how many real horror stories you heard. So whenever you managed to sound so uncharacteristically blunt, he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Benny has always been a tits man,” Frankie agreed, and you giggled. He tried to refocus on the movie then, but it hadn’t captured his interest in the least. After a moment, you spoke again and he had to work on not choking.

“What are you, Francisco?”

Your tone was playful, light; Frankie’s head jerked in surprise to gaze down at you and you wiggled your brows, going for laughs. You seemed completely unaware of the roaring in his ears, the visceral reaction your words brought forth within him. You and Frankie had shared intimate tidbits like that before with one another, often during nights at the bar with the Miller brothers. After a few drinks and usually, because his friends knew exactly how he felt about you and tried to steer the conversations into dangerous waters and watch Frankie try to save himself.

Only, Frankie’s friendship with you during the last few months had become...deeper. After the operation Santiago had brought Will, Benny, Tom and him in on, your relationship had evolved. Because that nightmare had reminded Frankie just how dark shit could get in the blink of an eye, and he’d had to do things he thought he was done with when he retired from service. Worse, because they were just civilians using Santi’s connections and intel to rob a drug lord.

And you had no idea what he’d gone through, how hard he’d fought just to get home to you because he couldn’t-wouldn’t-tell you. Yet you still patched him up, physically and emotionally, when he’d come home three weeks later than he’d promised. You held him as he cried and never became angry with him, never questioned him for answers as to why he’d come home with one less friend and a whole lot of mysterious trauma.

After that, Frankie realized he was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with you.

So a simple, flirtatious little question? Yeah, it really managed to fuck Frankie up.

His friends had sensed the change as well, noticed how you held Frankie up when he felt like he couldn’t stand, how you comforted them all when they got home and cried along with them over Tom, over Santi not coming home even though you’d only met him once, briefly. You held strong for him at Tom’s funeral, which prompted the Miller brothers to tell Frankie in no uncertain terms that he simply could not let you slip through his fingers. If that fucking mission had taught them anything, it was that life was too short and you might as well live it to the fullest.

But the thing was, Frankie depended on you. Your friendship was the one real, good, pure thing in his life. And you gave it so willingly and unquestionably even after what he put you through that there was no fucking way he was risking it by telling you how he felt.

Christ, you even had a spot in his bathroom for your own toiletries, a favourite pillow on his bed for the nights you stayed, a fucking hook for your coat that he installed just a little lower than the other because you were so much smaller than Frankie.

And still, he wouldn’t look at what that might mean because he was afraid, and as much as you seemed to think nothing scared him, the truth was that a gory horror movie, or losing his friend, or even fucking live combat could never come close to the fear he felt when he pictured life without you.

You were Frankie’s Sunshine, and he never wanted to be alone in the dark again.

Aware he was still gazing down at you, Frankie found himself entirely at a loss for words. You didn’t seem to mind, simply waiting for him to respond while taking small bites of your treat. His cock twitched at the combination of your words, the innocent way you gazed at him, because Frankie hadn’t touched himself in quite some time and it didn’t take much to drive him up the wall.

His life with you had become remarkably domestic, routine. You often stayed multiple nights in a row at his place, preferring his company over being alone, and the shorter distance to your office. His spacious condo had one large four-piece bathroom, which meant there had been a few times where one of you was in the shower and the other came in, desperate to use the toilet before their bladder could burst. The shower had a thickly frosted glass enclosure, which provided plenty of visual privacy from both sides, the only indication that someone was in the shower was a very faint tint. This was never an issue until it was.

Exactly sixty-two days prior (not that Frankie was necessarily keeping count of passing time since his last orgasm), you had burst into the bathroom one afternoon unexpectedly. Returning early from your jog because you needed to pee, while Frankie stood in the shower. He listened to you tell him about a cute dog you’d seen outside his building. The thing was, Frankie had expected you to be gone longer, and you were in the middle of a three-day visit that had left him needy and horny because he hadn’t had time alone and yet you walked around in his fucking clothes, slept next to him in his bed, and he needed release.

He was grateful the tinted glass prevented you from having any idea what he was doing on the other side. And he had been close already when you came in, one hand fisting over his cock while the other pressed into the tile wall, and guilt sprang up in the back of his mind because he had been thinking of you as he touched himself. And you were just feet away, unaware and fuck if that didn’t lead him to the edge.

But it was when you had sat down to pee and he heard you give a little moan of relief that Frankie lost it, giving in to the most powerful-yet silent-orgasm he had had in fucking years. Rope after rope of cum, his legs violently shaking, and he’d wondered if he would pass out it felt so good. Then you’d flushed and continued speaking, washing your hands before telling him you were going to put on a pot of coffee. And the guilt Frankie felt was so immense that he vowed right there he wasn’t going to touch himself again. He cared for and respected you too much to reduce you to his graphic thoughts without your consent.

Sixty-two days later and you were testing his limits unknowingly.

“I, uh, I’m not sure,” He replied, keeping his eyes locked on yours. You frowned a little, kitten licking the ice cream absentmindedly. Frankie almost groaned, wondering if you were trying to kill him. “I guess, it depends on the person.” He was never, ever going to admit he was a you man, that your ass, your perfect tits, your pretty little mouth were everything he could dream and more.

He tried to shrug casually, as if indifferent.

“I guess it’s a funny question,” You said after a moment, laughing a little, “I mean, no one asks a straight woman if she’s an ass or cock girl!”

Frankie took a too-large bite of his treat, the cold painful and giving him instant brain freeze but it was just the distraction he needed because seeing your plump lips wrap around the word ‘cock’ might just kill him. He coughed attempting to laugh at your joke despite the brain freeze, and you leaned closer in concern.

“Sorry, are you-ah, shit!” A piece of your ice cream bar, which you’d moved to hold higher as you were checking on Frankie, fell off and landed on your chest, instantly staining the pale pink t-shirt. You hopped up with a noise of discontent, catching the fallen glob and hurrying into the kitchen to toss it in the sink. “Damn it!”

Frankie reached out and paused the movie, standing up and intending to follow you. He took two steps, adjusting his cap as he moved, and then looked up to where you stood at the sink, running your shirt under the faucet. Freezing, he took it the sight of you standing in his kitchen, your shirt removed to run under the water, leaving you wearing yoga pants and a simple white bra. For a moment, he just shut down and stared at you dumbfounded, before internal alarms started sounding and Frankie’s eyes were sweeping over your curves, his eyes zeroing in on the lack of support your bra had, your breasts perky and full and fuck, he had to look away.

He looked up at his ceiling at cleared his throat “You uh, want me to grab you a shirt?” His voice came out much deeper than he was expecting. He hoped you didn’t notice, though with only being able to see your profile even if he did dare to look at you, he’d never be able to tell.

“Can I borrow your big sweater, please?” You asked him, and Frankie nodded as he hurried away, down the hall to grab the sweater he knew you meant from his room. He would have laughed at your suggestion it was his sweater when he barely got to wear it himself anymore, but he was trying to remember how to breathe.

Once out of sight in his bedroom, Frankie took a few steadying breaths before grabbing the sweater off the end of his bed. He was going to subject himself to a cold shower after he handed this to you because you were staying the night again and he could not climb into a bed with you this worked up.

One of the reasons that you and Frankie just worked as friends were your opposite ways of navigating life. Where Frankie was a detailed, meticulous planner, you flitted from idea to idea spontaneously until something landed right, and you seemed to enjoy pulling him along with you as you followed those random whims. And he let you pull him because he trusted you so completely. Even if he would still make a new plan in the back of his mind, it still felt like he was taking chances he never would have without you leading the way.

Planning was Frankie’s way of keeping control. Of keeping himself, his squadmates, his loved ones, safe and secure. After Columbia, where every bit of the plan had gone completely to shit, he’d needed to let you lead more often just so he could feel grounded because he didn’t trust himself any longer. And you had been happy to lead, to test his limits by pushing aside any planning he attempted and pull him from his comfort zone. You had taught him how to grapple with his instincts and his desires, giving him real-world methods to cope, including breathing as he was now.

So focused as he was on his breathing, Frankie hadn’t noticed you had joined him in his room, standing just inside the doorway. If he had heard you, he wouldn’t have spun around abruptly and take two long strides before realizing how close you were, nearly knocking you over as he did. He dropped the sweater when he reached out with both hands to grab your upper arms and steady you, and then he met your gaze.

Frankie couldn’t say whether it was the heat of his hands on you so unexpectedly, or the way you each shivered at the electricity that seemed to pulse from him to you. Maybe it was everything combined, years of friendship, longing and pining and then almost dying in the middle of the jungle only to come home and have you climb into his lap and sob in relief that he was home, and a million other moments in between.

But when Frankie met your eyes there in the doorway of his bedroom, he knew his expression was giving him away completely.

You were looking at him with wide eyes, your mouth slightly open in surprise, whatever words you were going to say long since lost. And then he saw it, was looking right at you when your expression shifted, no longer the innocent, playful woman but instead, one who was suffering just as much as he was, longing and love and this hunger on your face he’d never seen before.

Without hesitating, without thinking or planning his next move, Frankie tugged you against him and leaned down to slot his lips over yours, taken aback when he saw you close your eyes and stretch your neck up to meet him. When your soft lips connected to his, Frankie trembled and groaned, loving the feel of your body pressed against him, the way you smelled like something tropical, how even with your perfect curves you were so small compared to him. Kissing you was everything he’d dreamed and more.

He wanted to deepen the kiss, taste you, but even as he thought it his mind jumped ten steps ahead and imagined you on his bed and he had to stop himself from getting carried away. With great effort he pulled back, first breaking the kiss and then taking several steps away, panting heavily.

“Frankie?” You were out of breath, confused, and deliciously flushed. He could see your nipples tightened against the thin fabric of your bra, goosebumps along your skin. Just the knowledge that he’d had that kind of effect on you was enough to make him want to cum in his pants right there.

“Cariño, I can’t, I’m sorry,” It was physically painful now, his hard length straining against his jeans, but he was more concerned about you, and how afraid he was to lose you. “I-I’ve wanted to do that but you gotta know, I love you. I’m in love with you.” He couldn’t meet your eyes, instead choosing to look at his feet and rubbing his hands over his face.

You approached him again, just as quietly, taking him by surprise when you spoke from just inches away. “Frankie, look at me,” It was an order, a tone you rarely used but that always worked on grounding him, and he realized you understood he was struggling right now not to break down, terrified he’d fucked up the best thing in his life in a moment of weakness. He reluctantly met your gaze, swallowing thickly as he did.

“I need you to hear me right now, okay? Tell me.”

“I’m listening,” He confirmed, heart about ready to beat out of his chest, “I can hear you.”

“Good,” And you closed the gap between your body and his, pressing your hands into his shoulders. Frankie caught his breath. “I want you to do that again, and I don’t want you to stop. Please, kiss me again, Frankie, because I love you too and I’ve never wanted anything more in my whole life than I want you-“

Frankie cut you off, a growl ripping from his chest before he gathered you roughly into his arms and kissed you again, this time quickly swiping his tongue across your lips for permission to enter, and you gladly parted them for him, moaning when his tongue licked into your hot mouth. He slid one hand to the back of your head, his fingers weaving into your hair carefully before he pressed your face to his, needy to taste you more, to get drunk on you. Fuck, you were perfect.

When you whimpered against him, the sound almost lost in his mouth, Frankie moved, walking you back until you hit the wall and crowding you there. He ran his free hand across the bare skin of your side, heat coursing through his veins when you shuddered at his touch, keening for him. He hadn’t realized he was rolling his hips against you, his erection pressed into your stomach until one of your small hands somehow slipped between your bodies and ghosted over the front of his jeans curiously.

“Fuck,” He broke the kiss, this time simply to lower his head and kiss along your jaw, down your neck, “Sunshine, I fucking love you, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, sweet girl.” He licked the column of your throat as he moved to the other side of your face before biting gently. The sound that tore from you was so filthy he groaned again, dropping both hands to grasp your forearms.

“Frankie, fuck, don’t stop,” You were tugging at his shirt, and despite your request, he had to move back slightly to pull it over his head, his bare chest revealed to you and even though you’d seen him shirtless before, the intimacy of this time, of finally being with you after so long, made him self conscious. If you saw anything you didn’t like, you didn’t show it. Instead, you bit your lip as your hands tentatively roamed across his chest, trailing over his stomach lightly enough that he shivered. When you spoke next, you yet again took Frankie completely by surprise, your brows furrowing as your expression became more than just hungry, “Mine.”

You whispered it, but to Frankie, it was like you’d just announced it to the entire world. The possessive edge wasn’t lost on him, no, it shot straight to his core and snapped the final cords of his restraint.

“I should...I need a minute, Sunshine,” Frankie pressed his hands into the wall on either side of you, “I haven’t done anything in a long time, haven’t even cum, I don’t think I can be as sweet to you as I want to be.”

Your lust-blown eyes met his, “Why haven’t you cum?” He could hear trouble in your voice now, the not so careful way you spoke pulling dangerous images in his mind as he stared down at you, his jaw tense. When Frankie made no reply, you pressed your pointer finger to the middle of his chest, your eyes never leaving his as you slowly, lightly, moved it downward, trailing his dark hair. “Is it because you think of me? Are you that amazing that you won’t even let yourself cum because you think it’s wrong to think about me like that?”

A strangled noise was all he could respond with, his hands pressing desperately into the wall. You knew him too well, understood exactly what he’d meant without having to ask. And then you kept talking, and honestly, Frankie was floored at how dirty you suddenly were for him.

“I have to admit, you’re better than me, Frankie,” That finger trailed so slowly, closing in on his belly button now, “I’m not good like you, I think about you all the time. Especially when I touch myself, usually after I’ve spent a ton of time with you and I can’t fucking wait for a second longer. Wanna know what I picture?”

His voice was husky, a warning if ever there was one, “What did you picture, sweet girl?”

You moaned, your finger now closing in on the waist of his jeans, “You, bending me over the couch, that one is a favourite. Or waking you up with a blowjob, swallowing everything you’ve got because I know you taste delicious,” You unbuttoned his jeans now, sliding the zipper down with care, “But I think the winner, the one that always makes me scream your name, is thinking about riding you, Frankie. Climbing in your lap and just-“

Fuck, fuck he couldn’t hold back. He’d told you he couldn’t and yet you wouldn’t shut up and all thoughts of making love to you gently were out the fucking window, Frankie instead growled deeply and grabbed you by the arms, all but throwing you on the bed. You were smirking up at him, your eyes dark with lust and shining with triumph.

“Fuck, sweet girl, you wanna scream my name?” He removed his pants and briefs in one motion, his cock spring up, hard and leaking precum and you licked your lips, giving a little whimper at the sight of him. Frankie grasped himself, pumping his hand a few times as he stood over you, “Like what you see?”

“Jesus, Frankie-you need a new nickname,” You said, eyes glued to his cock, “Catfish makes no sense when you’re walking around with that fucking bat-wait!” He froze in the middle of removing his ball cap, looking at you with concern to see you bite your lip a little shyly, “Keep it on. The hat.”

Warmth spread through him at your request and Frankie replaced the hat on his head, then dropped to his knees next to the bed, his hands running up your thighs as you writhed. At your waist, he grasped the tops of your yoga pants and tugged them down, enjoying the way your body arched when you lifted your hips to help him. The only item of clothing either of you wore now was you in your bra, and fuck were you a sight.

Frankie gazed up at you from the floor in awe, his eyes roving over you hungrily as you watched him, propped up on your elbows. He started kissing up your thighs then, pushing your legs apart and spreading you, his hands kneading your flesh. “Sweet girl, you have such a pretty pussy, better than I imagined.” He moaned, biting into the soft flesh of your inner leg and drawing a whimper from you, “I can fucking smell you already, so wet and ready for me, fuck.”

“Oh god Frankie, please, touch me. I can’t wait anymore, I need you!”

“Told you,” Frankie climbed over top of you, his legs on either side of your body as he reached down and dragged you further onto the bed, his show of strength making you whimper, “It’s been a while. And you walk around here wearing my fucking clothes all the time. You don’t know what you do to me, Sunshine.” He grunted as he repositioned himself between your legs, his hands grasping the backs of them to haul your body against his, his cock pressed painfully against your thigh, “Gonna fuck you, sweet girl.” And with one careful, quick motion he thrust forward and each of you cried out at the pleasure of Frankie filling you.

“Frankie! Oh!” Your legs wrapped around him instantly, urging him as deep as possible as he split you open so deliciously. Once he was fully seated within you, Frankie dropped forward, propping himself on one arm, and cupped your face with his free hand. He looked into your eyes as he started a fast, hard pace, thrusting deep and reeling over how wet you were for him, how perfectly your velvet folds wrapped around him.

“Fuck, cariño, you’re fucking tight,” He grunted, kissing you sloppily as you threw your arms around him, hugging him close, “So tight for me, so perfect making those pretty noises, fuck.” Frankie groaned when you clenched around him as he spoke, “You like it when I tell you how perfect you are?”

“Ye-yeah Frankie, I love it. Oh, fuck!”

You were trembling now, squeezing him each time he whispered in your ear. Frankie kept up a string of praises and filthy words, taking note of the ones that had you gripping him extra hard.

He’d always had a casual enjoyment of dirty talk, nothing over the top, easy enough to shut off if it wasn’t enjoyed by the other person. But something about talking like this to you had his balls tightening that much faster, his thrusts becoming brutal.

Still murmuring in your ear, Frankie lowered his hand to your clit, experimentally rubbing, circling and pinching it to see what you liked. He was going to cum soon, and he’d be damned if you didn’t cum too. Though, as Frankie settled on circling you, both feeling and hearing how this was definitely how you liked it, his worries quickly dissipated when your hips were suddenly bucking up to meet his and you were screaming his name.

“That’s it, let go for me sweet girl,” Frankie’s thrusts were becoming increasingly sloppy as he neared the edge, “Are you-fuck, where should I?” He couldn’t even form a sentence now, he was so close and you were squeezing around him so perfectly as you closed in on your orgasm.

You understood though, your eyes meeting his as you pulled yourself together enough to reply, “Frankie, cum inside me please, please fill me up, pleasepleaseplease-“

“Fuck! H-here you go, perfect little thing!” He roared, dropping his weight over your and growling as he spilled inside you, as you bucked and writhed beneath him and screamed out, toppling over the edge and into oblivion with him. He heard himself cursing in Spanish as he experienced the most intense orgasm of his entire life, his hips slowing to continue to draw it out, still more cum filling you and you were a wreck under him, shivering and moaning.

“Yes, Frankie, yes.” You whimpered, your hands sliding into his hair-knocking his cap off-and tugging at his curls.

It took several minutes to recover, though Frankie had enough awareness to shift his weight so that you could breathe properly. Still hard inside you, he began to kiss you all over, peppering your face and neck before biting a few more marks into your neck, his tongue laving out to soothe. He enjoyed the way you whimpered when overstimulated, twitching when he pinched your nipple over your bra, squeaking his name when he pressed himself as deep inside you as he could one last time before pulling out.

Frankie collapsed on the bed next to you, then quickly tugged you into his arms and kissed the top of your head. His fear began to bubble back up now that the haze of passion was clearing, and he was starting to question every single moment that had occurred since you'd asked him if he was a tits man or an ass man.

What had he done? Was he going to lose you after this? Lose his entire reason for living for one amazing orgasm?

But it was like you could reach his mind, as only a few minutes had passed and then, with a little groan, you pulled yourself up so that you were on your elbow, looking down at Frankie. You took one look at his face and frowned, “That was quicker than I thought.”

Frankie stared at you, “What was?”

“I guessed it would take more than two minutes for you to start regretting this.”

Sighing, he pulled himself up, sitting on the edge of the bed. You followed, but crossed your legs and shuffled next to him. “I meant what I said, I love you,” Frankie explained, rubbing a hand over his face, “I love you so much, so fucking much it hurts. But the idea of messing this up is terrifying me, Sunshine. I don’t think I could lose you, I think it would kill me.”

“Frankie,” You crawled over him, straddling his hips and settling into his lap. You cupped his face firmly, looking into his eyes. Your expression was open, warm and vulnerable and a little incredulous, “You aren’t going to lose me, not ever. I want this-I want you, and everything you come with, okay?”

Though his heart was soaring, Frankie still worried, shaking his head, “I come with a lot of dark baggage, sweet girl. Not to mention the age difference.”

“Jesus, Frankie, do you really think I don’t know what I’m saying when I tell you I’m all in?” You asked him, not waiting for an answer before continuing. “I love you. Can I tell you when I knew?”

Frankie peered at you, his hands coming to hold your waist as he nodded.

“The boys trip.” You stated, using the term each of you agreed upon when referencing his three-week disappearance to Columbia. “When you first left, I knew something was off but I trust you, so I didn’t question it. But then after a few days, with no word from you, I started to really worry,” You paused, momentarily lost in thought, eyes dark now with the painful memory of his absence and the little information you’d come to learn about it since. “Did I ever tell you I booked a ticket to Columbia?”

This caught Frankie off guard because you most certainly had not told him that, “What, are you serious?”

“Yep. Booked it for the day after you ended up calling me. I don’t know what I was planning to do, but I knew you were there and, even if you were dead, I needed to be as well.” You stroked your thumbs over his cheeks, “After you called, and I knew you were alive and coming home, I realized that the way you said it meant you almost didn’t make it home, and I knew you weren’t saying something. I hung up and sat in my room for a minute and it occurred to me that you could have died and I would have never seen you again. That was when I knew it wasn’t just a crush.”

Heavy emotion filled his chest, rendering him unable to immediately respond. Frankie gathered you close and stood, clutching you against him and carrying you into the bathroom. He set you on the toilet before turning to his massive soaker tub and switching it on, fully intending on spending the rest of the night in there with you. When he turned around, you were carefully tidying yourself up. With a grunt, he grabbed a washcloth and ran it under warm water before kneeling in front of you and taking over.

“Why didn’t you say anything? After I came home, I mean.” His tone was light, as he didn’t mean to come across as accusing you of anything-it’s not like he had said anything to you. Good-natured as you were, you simply smiled at him, a little sadly.

“Too afraid, right at first,” You admitted, your eyes fluttering shut as he took care of you with the warm washcloth, “But when you came home you were a fucking wreck, Frankie. You lost your friend, Santi didn’t come back with you either, and Will and Benny had the same expression on their faces whenever I saw them. You saw some shit, did some shit, I don’t know and I’ll be real here, I don’t need you to ever feel like you should tell me what exactly happened. But after the first day you were back, I could see how much it changed you and I thought it would be selfish to tell you how I felt and add more emotional bullshit onto your plate.”

Frankie continued to kneel in front of you after tossing the washcloth into his laundry hamper. For a moment, the only sound in the room that of the tub filling. He stared into your eyes, seeing only how truthful you were being, how incredibly kind. He had never realized how completely he could love someone until he met you.

“I thought about you the entire time I was gone.” He admitted before carefully standing and checking the temperature of the water. He added a bath salt mixture that you’d bought a while ago, claiming it was a gift when really you were the one to use them, locking yourself away for hours to soak because you didn’t have a tub at your place. He shut the water off and held his arms out for you, which you eagerly stepped into and allowed him to guide you both into the water.

Once settled, your back against his chest, you replied. “Your face when you came home, I’ll never forget your expression.” His legs were on either side of you, and you began to lazily trace along his right thigh as both of you fell into your painful memories of his ill-fated trip.

Frankie sighed sadly, “I’m sorry I ever left, Sunshine. I never should have left you,” He tightened his grip around your waist under the water, one hand spread flat across your stomach, “It was just...fuck, everything went bad straight from the start. We had a moment of luck and then it was like nothing could go right. And I don’t know, I’m fucking gutted that Tom is gone, but it’s worse that Santiago won’t come home. He’s like my brother, and he blames himself for everything.”

Frankie knew you had no idea what he meant. You knew he and the guys were former special ops that served together, but when Santi had asked him to go to Columbia Frankie had only told you the basics-the country, who he would be with, that he might not have a lot of chances to call, and that it would be about a week. Santi had picked him up and you had been there to see him off that morning, and his friend had casually referenced a ‘boys trip’ while speaking with you as Frankie loaded his shit in the back.

Of course, you weren’t stupid. You worked with the VA, met a lot of former service members who ended up contracting out their skills after retiring or leaving due to injuries or lifestyle changes. And you knew Frankie, understood him like no one ever had before, which is why as he gave you further details you didn’t flinch or freeze up, you simply listened. When Frankie had gone quiet for a while, you eventually turned to gaze up at him over your shoulder, your cheek on his chest.

“From what I could tell,” You began slowly, your words cautious, “Whatever you did, what happened, you all put it aside to get Tom’s body home to his family. And considering the type of work Santi was doing out there for three years before he came here to ask you guys to join him, I figure you all must have almost died a few times each, probably took out some terrible men along the way.”

Frankie had to bite back his sob, turning his face away from you to stare, ashamed and remorseful at the wall. You reacted quickly, pulling yourself up and turning over, your naked body pressing over his as you grabbed Frankie’s head and gently turned him to look at you. “Baby,” You cooed, your eyes shining with concern, “Don’t do that, don’t hide from me.”

That was all it took. Frankie let the sob out and the relief of it was instantaneous, so much so that he let out another, then another, all while you held him and murmured soft, sweet words and pressing chaste kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, along his jaw. It didn’t last long, he’d cried so many times over everything that had gone down, but this was the first time you had revealed you sort of had an idea of what they had been up to, and you were still supporting him and loving him and it was all very overwhelming.

A short time later, Frankie wiped his eyes and shot you a grateful look, hoping you could sense how much he appreciated you. You settled into the water again, knees pulled to your chest as you faced him and trailed your hands comfortingly up and down his chest. “Sunshine,” He whispered, catching one hand and holding it against his heart, “I love you, thank you for being so fucking incredible.”

He tugged you closer, joining you in laughing when a little water sloshed up over the edge of the tub as you landed against him. You snuggled close and kissed him, your fingers carding into his curls and holding him steady. When Frankie took you to bed that night, there were no pillows between your bodies, not a shred of clothing separating you. He held you close, falling asleep faster than he had in years.

And for the first time in Frankie’s life, he felt whole and complete, like nothing could ever bring him into darkness again, not when he had you, literal sunshine, lighting his existence.

PART TWO

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knifefather · 3 years ago

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Looking Up at Us [Submission]

'Looking Up at Us

|*| DISCLAIMERS: Hello! It me! This is my first fic ever. Uhhh, Giorno’s a giant dick and Narancia’s an angel (literally and figuratively :] ) So yandere-ish themes, manipulation, and other mean things. This is a three-year span after the events of VA. |*|'

I APPLAUD YOU ON YOUR FIRST FIC ANON!!! This one really hit me right in the feels :'') Honestly you wrote Giorno so well because I literally wanted to strangle him!! He reminds me so much of Dio here and I fucking love it. I can't believe he stole their song ;a; OP outlined the yandere and manipulation content warnings, but there is also some major character death! Please be warned!

“Hey, when we get married let’s use that Aerosmith song.”

Narancia laughed as the smaller of the two let out an embarrassed squeal and tried burying her head deeper into his neck. They laid together on his bed in his rather untidy room talking about anything and everything that crossed their minds. But he was always so brash, and making her red was a favorite pastime of his. “Duuude, don’t even joke about that!’” she giggled, “We’re, still, ya know teens,” she emphasized that by flicking her hand around. He continued laughing, tightened his grip on her, and kissed the top of her head. Even if he was teasing the poor girl, he always meant what he said.

“You’d look really pretty in this dress I saw the other day. It wasn’t long as shit like those rich people…” Narancia slowly trailed off realizing she wasn’t responding. When he looked down at her, he saw she wasn’t smiling anymore and looked lost in her own thoughts. He wiggled away from her a little to look at her properly and softly called her name. “Hey, you good?”

“Promise me you’ll stay,” she looked at him earnestly and caught the poor boy off guard. What was going through that busy head of hers? He was speechless and for a moment he gawked at her. The frenzied teen then added with intensity, “You better stay with me forever and ever and and- I don’t- just… please..” And it finally clicked what she meant, and he gave her his biggest smile.

“Don’t worry, miele! You’re gonna have to deal with me for a while,” he chimed as he pulled her closer and gave her another peck to her forehead. She looked up at him with watery eyes and smile, “I’d love nothing more. Just promise me, please?

He leaned lower to kiss her softly on the lips. They both knew that was an impossible promise but still, “I’ll try my best.” He snuggled back up to her and they both slowly sunk back into the previous loving tranquility. They’ll both try, but mafia life was so unpredictable, but it’ll be worth the try if they could stay together.

“So, what are we gonna name our first kid?”

“Narancia Ghirga!!”

“Yeah, Mrs. Ghirga?” Narancia couldn’t stop laughing even as he was shoved off the bed.

Three months. It’s been three months, but his voice still rings in her head. His goofy smile, bubbly laughter, his smothering hugs were all nothing but distant memories that no longer warmed her, but instead chilled her core. Their places where they caused mischief and held impromptu dates only held ghosts of what was and what could have been. These thoughts haunted her every waking moment. Even when she slept, they caused nothing but sweet dreams that left her bitter and empty in the morning. But Narancia wasn’t the only one she missed dearly. Finding Abbacchio in the state he was and running back full of hope to the colosseum only to find out Bruno was the final victim. But thanks to him, they find out he was actually the first. Giorno had admitted after their discovery that they had been travelling with a reanimated corpse. At the time her, Mista, Trish, were too busy crying to even care.

For the new Don’s first year, she was present. When Fugo returned, she welcomed him with open arms. She stayed for as long as could but looking at Giorno mad her sick. Violence and anger grew inside by just being around him and his voice made her gag. Staying there brought her closer to the edge as she struggled between collapsing into tears or killing her Don in a fiery fit. That’s when she distanced herself from everyone. Of course, it worried Fugo and Mista to death when the last surviving member of their gang suddenly went off the radar. Even if it was for the wellbeing of everyone there, it didn’t sit right with anyone. Especially Giorno Giovanna.

The two-year absence was hell, for her anyways. At first jobs would take her resumes and interviews, but soon they would turn her away at sight of her face or sound of her voice. Her temporary apartment kicked her out and hotels refused service to the point she was forced to either stay in motels or rent somewhere for a while until they too kicked her out. When people started to whisper and gossip as she passed by, that was the final straw. It was lonely. It was frustrating! Was it because of the mafia association? No, that should guarantee a decent job and place to stay. And then it clicked. The root of her problems lies at the head of Passione.

So, here the young woman stood in front of him, arms wrapped securely around herself, as Mista stood watching them at the closed entrance. Giorno’s grown, nearly six feet and obviously physically stronger than before. She squeezed tighter hoping to mimic Narancia’s hugs as she tried to gather her courage and find the words. For a while it was suffocating silence as no one dared to speak first. They were both strategizing, planning how to attack and counter the other’s words. But finally, the devil’s replacement spoke, “Hello, tersoro. I’m glad to see you’re-“

“Cut the crap. I know what’re you doing. Stop it.” And with that she turned to leave. Mista stepped out the way to let her go until a soft laugh stopped her, “Are you still torn up about them? Really?” She stopped and slowly turned to face him. She finally snapped.

“Are you serious?” She spat at him. “Why wouldn’t I be upset that you killed my friends? My family?!”

“The love of your life?” She glared at the blonde as he had the audacity the smile at the thought of their deaths. In that moment, she wanted to kill him. Her stand was at the ready. Mista didn’t even attempt to reach for his gun as he knew she wouldn’t do something stupid like that, but he, too, thought of shooting Giorno as well. Giorno tsked and slowly walked around his desk to lean against the front of it, showing just how little her threat meant to him. “My dear, you don’t understand. They were steppingstones to help change Passione for the greater good.”

“Steppingstones?! Don’t act like their bodies were your path to “greatness”! What exactly have you fixed, huh? There are SEVEN more assassin squads. You haven’t stopped drugs like you promised Bruno. Instead, you’ve barely stopped selling it kids ten and under! Don’t act like they were your sacrifices!” The rage burned inside her, and she could no longer control her words. “Why did they have to go to heaven, huh?! They deserve to be here, not you! Bruno should be where you are! Leone should’ve left you die! Narancia should be back in school! It’s all your FAULT!” They both lunged at Giorno only for GER to grab the opposing stand and for Giorno to effortlessly grabbed her fist. One arm wrapped firmly around her waist and the other then swooped in and tilted her head up to kiss her ever so softly.

“My, my such a temper,” he murmured, “I’ve always loved that about you.” In that moment all the fire that was built up for years turned ice cold, as fear gripped her insides. She wasn’t expecting this strength. Wide eyes stared up into the unnatural turquoise of his. He slowly turned her head from side to side, as if examining her. “You poor thing. You look so tired and overworked,” and she was. “I bet those horrible businesses could see it on you. Turned you away like street trash. Poor, poor thing.” The young woman’s voice had left her as she tried to process everything. Just what was he planning?

�� “D-Don’t act like you didn’t do all that crap to me” She hated the sudden stutter in her voice but was thankful words even came out. The young woman started fighting in his grip which caused him to tighten. “Let me go! What was that kiss?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” But she was only met with a chuckle. As he spun her around and pressed her back against his chest. “My dear, I was only trying to bring back what was mine. Tesoro, mia. So independent. We’ll have to break that.” She fought harder and let out a cry of pain as Giorno dug his fingernails in the meat of her cheeks, getting annoyed at her fighting spirit.

“Now, I want you to listen to listen to me. I really don’t want to repeat myself,” he nipped her neck, “nor do I want to hurt more than I should.” Giorno leaned closer and whispered, “You’re mine. I’ve loved you for too long to let you get away and whore around like you did with him.” He shoved her to the ground and held her there with his foot, pressing harder with every squirm. “Go against me, and your little angelo will be dug up, burned, and flushed down a portable. Or maybe I’ll finish off the rest of your gang.” She struggled to look up at him as he glared down at her. His mouth quirked into a smirk as he spoke again, “Whose to say mafioso even go to heaven, hm? My sweet, delusional darling.” Giorno dropped to the floor and scooped her up in his arms again hugging her tightly. She was too scared to fight back. Not knowing what would set him off. He quietly laughs at how broken the poor woman was. So easy to break in already.

“Let me take care you. Love you. Cherish you like you deserve. You’ll learn to love me.” He gripped her arms in a bruising grasp and whispered dangerously smooth, “Or you’ll die trying.”

___________________________________________

Her wedding gown shimmered and swayed gently as she and her new husband made their way to the center of the dance floor. Each step weighted heavy on her heart as the gravity of it all grew. Their movements were calculated and coordinated, just like everything else because it was all artificial for her. There was no true love, no true feelings in this forced arrangement. No more fight in her dull eyes that refused to make eye contact with anyone because then they would see just how much he’s broken her in just a year. One wrong move will surely be the one she’ll ever make.

No one in the ballroom could see the despair ripping away whatever dignity was left as she wrapped her arms around his neck or the bile she choked back as he greedily slipped his arms around her waist. If only she could keep tightening her arms like a noose until he was no more but a horrid memory. The room was filled with ‘awws’ and loving gazes as the couple settled gracefully into the position they had practiced many a times before. She finally turned her emotionless gaze to him. Giorno Giovanna chuckled at her. His new wife was so dramatic.

“And now the newly weds will share their first dance together!” someone, who she didn’t care enough to learn their name, announced as if he was getting paid on his excitement and not on the fact if he squealed, he gets killed. She closed her eyes as the crowd cheered, swallowed her sickness, and sighed. She made it this long without throwing up or crying, she can get through this dance.

“The groom has picked this song out specifically for his new, beautiful wife. Isn’t that romantic?” The crowd cheered and clapped in blissful ignorance at the display of affection. The bride’s eyes snapped open at this new revelation and stared in shock at Giorno who only smiled. But when the music began, her heart finally burst. Tears welled and spilled freely down her cheeks as that Aerosmith song, their song, played and she was forced to move to its now bittersweet beat. Giorno’s wife shakily looked up at him and chocked on her tears. Once again, chuckled and lean in to whisper with honeyed venom his final victory,

“Oh miele, I bet he’s looking up at us right now, amore mio.”

(OK Tumblr formatting is weird but I wanna add: Yes it Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing that Narancia and darling picked as their first dance which Girono stole. And Narancia was the only one allowed to call darling Miele as an inside joke for “Honey! I’m Home”. Also WHY WAS THIS 2K+???)

#god im still in awe of this #so freakin good #narancia ghirga x reader #giorno giovanna x reader #cw yandere #cw major character death #submission #not mine #jjba #not sfw #suggestive

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ukaiknowsbest · 3 years ago

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Review: Tamayomi

[will contain spoilers]

Lately I have been pretty bored with the recent developments in Daiya no A and Oofuri. New Shonen anime stuff just don't appeal to me, so I bit the bullet and watched Tamayomi for at least one episode a day.

Like me, people would normally think "HOW TF ARE THEY GOING TO PLAY BASEBALL? AREN'T THEY WEARING SHORTS??? IS THIS JUST FANSERVICE?? OMYGOD"

But I did it. I watched the whole thing. 12 episodes.

And I enjoyed it.

THE SETUP/PLOT

pretty standard fare

Pitcher Yomi Takeda accidentally reunites with her childhood friend who's actually a nationals-level in middle school catcher when they both end up in the same highschool.

School: former powerhouse located in Saitama, now baseball club is almost non-existent. Yomi and a few other will try to revive the team from scratch.

Basically Shin Koshigaya is a brand new team where they struggle to look for new members and majority are first years.

They have to face other stronger teams even when they have a few members and some decent players.

Demographic is SEINEN (like oofuri, last inning, one outs, etc.)

CHARACTERS

Yomi Takeda as Main character and pitcher- skilled, resilient, funny, hardworking, does a lot of research which enabled her to perfect her form and hone her breaking ball. She keeps improving in a good pace too.

Tamaki Yamazaki former childhood friend of Yomi. Is a decent catcher in middle school. A bit well known. Good communicator.

Yoshino - team manager and coach. srsly she is a boss. She's not infallible but she tries her best.

and other decent players with adequate skill

For a sports anime they have decent cast. This is probably the closest we can currently get of a story where the girls are just focused on the sport, do their own strategizing/planning/training. All of them are cute but also serious about what they do.

There's no boys here so there's no talk about het-crushes and other distractions. It's a clamfest babyyyy.

I've seen a little of Major 2 (the one abt the son and his coed team) and I couldn't stand it because it was just slice of life in sportsy undertones.

There is also decent communication among all the players. It's pretty refreshing to watch. The catcher is well rounded and the pitcher is good. Everyone talk things out and there is not a lot of drama.

FANSERVICE

Wearing shorts to a sport that involves a lot of making contact with the ground is just illogical lmao.

Their school uniform skirt is pretty short

A little bit of their manager prodding the thighs of each person she meets but with good reason (she can tell how much muscle/exercise a person does just by a little prodding). It's a trope thing.

That's all. There are no panty shots, unnecessary locker room nudity, boob action, see through sweaty shirts. Most of the cringy things I've seen in other girls sports anime aren't present.

Eventually I even forget that they're wearing shorts or that it impedes their performance. It seems like it doesn't matter much to the characters so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I don't know if like the hugging or holding hands is considered fanservice. In my experiece we ladies just act like that irl. What they do is nothing out of the ordinary.

REALISM

3/5. They wear shorts and dont tie their hair up. The baseball part seem pretty decent though. The pacing of the story and matches was like watching IRL Koshien. It's all very clinical and straightforward.

Plus they include a lot of interesting baseball stuff which I haven't seen happen in early stages of other shonen anime like: specifically training the pitcher in other positions, showing what fielders yell to each other, letting other relievers start to reserve their ace (ppl can yell DnA did this but remember Tanba was injury boy throughout Act 1).

COMPARISON TO OTHER BASEBALL MANGA

based on technicality Tamayomi is prolly one of the top among baseball anime/manga I have seen.

Last Inning

Oofuri

Tamayomi

Daiya no A

Now don't chase me with pitchforks because of this ranking just yet. The fact that Shin Koshigaya coach's decisions and reasonings for plays and lineups are discussed makes the show at par with Last Inning and Oofuri. (we dont see DnA kataoka talk abt this sht like..ever)

Moreover Tamayomi has similar vibes to Oofuri/Big Windup but less dramatic. I do not think it's good for beginners too (especially with just 12 episodes). You need to have prior baseball knowledge to understand what the characters were doing.

However, this show is probably the most no-fuss baseball anime/manga I have watched. It does not rely on hype like DnA and it also don't have heavy topics like Oofuri and Last Inning. It's not wacky like One Outs and it's not uber slice of life like Cross Game. It's just baseball.

My minor complaint is that they don't give numbers when talking about things like pitching speed tho. It would've been more realistic if actual numbers were dropped XD

ART/ DESIGN/ANIMATION

A.k.a the thing most viewers complain about.

Character design is subpar. Everyone's faces are almost the same. You can tell who's the character not by face but by hair and height. Personally I don't mind this. I don't really look for realism in most things I watch. And I think the hair designs are cool.

Lots of people drop this show because of bad animation. There are shots/scenes where it's like I'm watching fanmade AMV's in nicovideo/youtube from the early 2000's. Pitching motions and Batting motions look like character movements in rpg games.

It's not really a problem for me though. I think it's charming for some reason. I don't mind it. A lot of people do but I'm not them.

CONCLUSION

NGL I wanted more. 12 episodes is too short. I hope a better animation company picks this up. I'm rewatching the whole thing because I enjoyed it a lot. I'll even check out the manga if I have time.

If anyone's interested here's my tamayomi livetweet thread

This is one of the closest thing I could get to what a decent girl sports anime looks like. If the character designs, art, animation and the uniforms were just better this show would have gone pretty far.

Compared to Shonen types of manga this was relaxing to watch, especially before bed. I'd honestly recommend it you wanna watch smth that doesnt involve a lot of feelings and drama but still feel like watching an actual sport.

Girls are fun. Finally.

[personal notes under the cut]

I get that people reading this would think I'm being too optimistic about a show they considered shtty but I kid you not, I dropped Bakuten (boys gymnastic's anime) coz even with it's wonderful animation i thought it was boring af.

I have dropped so many prettily animated shows coz i just cant get into the characters nor the story.

I've also said before in my Two Car review that I am actively avoiding shows with popular VA's. Idk much abt female VA's in anime, therefore watching Tamayomi was the perfect solution for me.

The reason I like tamayomi so much is that it gave me the same feeling of watching Summer Koshien 2021. I just think an anime that made me remember that kind of feeling was cool.

I'll rewatch hanebado next. wish me luck.

#tamayomi #sports anime #baseball anime #girls sports anime #this is prolly the only positive review abt this anime

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jett-dawson · 4 years ago

Text

okay, so i saw these on instagram

and i have some thoughts

i hope we get a jella confirmation. i really do. they’ve always been feeding into our hopes & requests for LGBT rep, even before the series started getting posted. they know we’ve been wanting this. it was only until after the first episode did jella get popular due to their closeness. it’s very obvious that they were the closest of the whole crew. so lots of shippers took it to heart & decided to refer to them as Jella. now look

regardless on whether or not you ship them, we NEED this. many of the shippers are part of the LGBT community themselves. i am part of the LGBT community myself. i love rainbow high, i think it has mad potential and it just really draws me in. i wanna see myself in these characters. and i wouldn’t care if any other ship went canon. ruby x violet, poppy x skyler, whatever. i just wanna see representation!

and they’ve obviously been teasing us with jella content. they kicked out the one character who was part of this close ship (that the staff knew was their biggest ship) and began to put #Jella in their vi life’s (a fandom made ship name) and refer to them as best friends. now look. i’m sure before this show started, they didn’t really have intentions of pairing them as a couple. there was no fandom feedback when writing all of the characters and plot, so i’m sure it wasn’t their intention to have them as a couple. if it was, i think we’d know by now. but then, when it aired, they saw fandom feedback and decided to tease us. call it “queer baiting” call it whatever you want. it’s upsetting.

but i personally didn’t get too mad because it’s all i’m used to seeing! i’m used to seeing gay couples not get representation.. and if any... very little representation. i’m used to people having to go BTS (people like directors or VAs) to confirm gay characters. take my little pony and monster high for example. take that literal queerbait moment from eah. the only reason i’ve gotten so excited over those moments is bc it’s the closest to rep i can get! so i’ve made the most of it

but representation shouldn’t be implied. i’ve said this before!! i’ll say it again! we should get just as much representation as any other couple should. it’s only fair. and it’s not harming anyone. if others decide to get offended, then that’s on them. having lgbt rep can be good bc once the news is spread that a show has some decent & proper rep, a whole bunch of others will flock on over to see themselves in the show. i wanna see gay couples hugging like other couples do. i wanna see them going on dates and getting blushy around each other. i want that end of season, end of series romantic kiss for my gay ship that other couples get to have

so forcing and begging for this representation isnt the best thing ever... but i guess it’s working? based on these responses from the official team, it seems like they’re gonna finally fall through. it reminds me of when we had to beg for more skin tones in dolls. hope they have that again with series 3. also it’ll probably be awhile until we get any confirmation. i just hope they do it right.

#rainbow high #rainbowhigh #rainbow high dolls #bella parker #jade hunter #jella #jella canon

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tiffdawg · 4 years ago

Text

The Light of Stars | Chapter Eleven: Disillusionment

Gif: @bestintheparsec

The Light of Stars

Pairing: Din Djarin/ The Mandalorian x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 5.5k

Rating: M | Warnings: the typical angst and a little smooching, mild language. No spoilers for season two!

Story Summary: In pursuit of the Child’s people, the mysterious Jedi, Din Djarin and his foundling find hope in a woman who shares the kid’s strange powers. Newly partnered with the Mandalorian, you are trained in the ways of the Force, but you’re no Jedi. You’re just trying to find your place in the galaxy.

A/N: Hi! It's been a while – much longer than I ever intended and for that I apologize. I want to say thank you to you all for reading my story and sticking with me. And to everyone who left comments on previous chapters, you have all my love for ever. I really do cherish each and everyone. You all inspire me to keep writing! Anyway, I'll stop rambling and let you read the latest installment of Jetii, Din, and Baby's (mis)adventures. This chapter is officially the beginning of the end!

Read on AO3

TLOS Masterlist | My Masterlist

… . …

Chapter Eleven: Disillusionment

The last few days were a blur as you cut across the galaxy at lightspeed. Time ceased to exist even as it passed you by, but it was uneventful in the best possible way as you spent what precious time you had left with the Mandalorian and his foundling quietly existing together.

You passed most of your time in the main cabin conversing with Mando. You always talked about your pasts. Never the future. But you considered yourself lucky to have that time with him. He spoke mostly of his youth with the Mandalorians and his early forays into bounty hunting, but occasionally he’d grace you with a story from his childhood. When he’d confessed that he hadn’t so much as said his parents' names aloud in decades but still found it within himself to share a treasured memory of them, you’d reached across the small space separating you to twine your fingers with his gloved ones as best you could. The words seemed to come a little easier after that. His life had been so full of sadness that you wondered if the last few weeks together had been an anomaly even with the chaos you’d brought into his life.

Down in the hull after tasteless meals of reconstituted food, you’d spent long hours reading texts from the Jedi holocron aloud to Mando while he disassembled, cleaned, and reassembled every blaster in his weapons locker twice-over. Other times he insisted on continuing your flying lessons but there wasn’t much to do as the ship sailed through hyperspace. During the infrequent fuel stops on lonely planets, you’d stretch your legs and find a quiet place to practice with the kid in consolation for long days spent trapped inside the ship.

That day, you’d landed on Mygeeto, a cold, frigid planet a few sectors from your final destination. Mando and the kid seemed unfazed by the icy winds, but you’d had to dig out your old parka just to walk to the closet cantina while the ship refueled. It was also a decently populated planet, big on mining and banking and a hub of trade. You were on the outskirts of a smaller spaceport, but it wasn’t somewhere you wanted to linger.

The docking bay was crowded with a steady rush of people coming and going earlier that morning. Now, when you stepped into the small, outdated docking bay ahead of the Mandalorian but behind the Child’s hovering carrier, it was deserted. Instantly, your eyes went to the fueling gear still hooked up to the Razor Crest. A quick glance around the bay told you the lone mechanic was nowhere to be seen. Most likely off working on one of the other starships. That meant the three of you were stuck on that icy, crystalline planet for at least a little while longer.

That meant trouble.

“Mando–”

“I know,” he sighed. “I made them back at the cantina. They aren’t with the guild, but they’re definitely hunters.”

“Were you just hoping they wouldn’t follow us back to the ship?”

“I wanted to get you two back to the Crest.” He entered a code on his vambrace and canceled the ship’s security protocols. After the ramp lowered, he closed the baby’s carrier and sent it into the hull of the ship.

“There are six of them,” you said, raising a brow at him, “and they’re right behind us.”

“Not a problem, sweetheart.” He placed a hand on the blaster holstered at his hip.

“Gods, you're cocky sometimes,” you retorted. Still, you extracted your lightsaber from your satchel before tossing the bag into the ship. It pained you to think that neither the baby nor Mando would be safe until that ex-Imp was taken care of for good. And even then, you worried about who else might know about the baby. You could only wish that wasn’t fated to be their only existence together. With his visor trained on you, his helmet tilted to the side. You shrugged as you took your place beside him.

“Don’t think I can handle it on my own?”

“I know you could, but you don’t have to,” you assured him. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eyes and found him watching you.

“I–”

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a noise coming from just beyond the entrance. Both of your heads snapped in that direction, alert and ready for a fight.

When the first blaster shot rang out, Mando returned it with one of his own.

“How many of them are there?” you shouted over the blast that rocked the Razor Crest. You’d mistakenly assumed you’d escaped after you’d fended off the six bounty hunters at the docking bay. The gunship fired back at Mando’s command.

“Down to two,” he answered as he hit a series of switches in rapid fire. He pulled the yoke and the ship took a nosedive through empty space. “Told you that spaceport was too big.”

“You didn’t say that.”

“I thought it.

Another hit set off one of the alarms. “Mando!”

“We’re almost to the hyperlane. Once we hit lightspeed, they can’t track us. Just hold on!”

You sighed in relief at the familiar streaks of blue light of hyperspace. Mando’s seat swiveled to face you and the Child. “You alright?” he asked the kid. He chirped happily in response. “I figured.” He turned to you, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward in his chair. “How about you?”

“I’m fine,” you assured him. You might’ve been a little rattled, but you’d seen worse. “We’re those the Moff’s men? How’d they track us to Mygeeto?”

“They didn’t.” A beat passed as you waited for him to explain. “They were already here. They’re amateurs. Gideon probably distributed fobs throughout the galaxy.”

While you’d gotten a decent glimpse of it on Vrogas Vas, you were beginning to see the severity of his situation. The Empire might’ve fallen years ago, but this former Imp had not. He had the resources and the reach to find the Mandalorian and the Child. And you didn’t like the thought of him taking on the Moff alone. “Mando, can you do something for me?”

“Anything,” he responded quickly.

You hesitated, doubting he would think that in a moment. “Will you send a holo to your tribe before you leave for Nevarro.” He straightened up at that, ready to protest. “You’re going to need all of the help you can get.”

“I can’t ask them to put the covert at risk for me. Not again.”

“So you know they would come for you?”

“Yes,” he answered, voice straining around the word.

“Do you think they hold what happened against you? Do you truly believe that any one of them regrets their choice?” He didn’t say anything, but you knew your assumption was right. And you knew his guilt was misplaced. They wouldn’t have welcomed him back, called him their brother, if that was the case. “You have to forgive yourself, Mando.” You unbuckled your safety restraints and kneeled before him. With a hand on the either curved cheek of his helmet, you forced him to look at you. You leveled him with a serious look, but he was unflinching, as still as ever. “Do you want to know what I think?”

“What?”

“They’re Mandalorians. They would want to fight with you. For you. How do you not see that?”

Wrapping his hands around your wrists, he pulled your hands away from his helmet. “I can’t do that for you.”

“Can’t or won’t?” you snapped before you stood and left the cabin.

… . …

Drawing his eyes away from the streaks of light bending around the Razor Crest, Din found you still in your seat next to him and the Child carefully cradled to your chest. With matching expressions – eyes closed and lips slightly parted – you both slept peacefully. Din had half a mind to wake you and send you both to your room. Even that makeshift bunk had to be more comfortable than the contorted position you’d maneuvered yourself into in your chair. But as the baby moved in your grasp to snuggle further into you, tiny clawed hands gripping the front of your tunic even as he drooled on it, he hesitated to disturb the scene before him.

Somehow, in the span of a few weeks, Din’s entire universe had narrowed to the two of you. His foundling, of course, was already his primary focus in life. And then you showed up and without even meaning to, the three of you had become a family.

Din had a family.

The realization struck him hard and fast, but quickly faded into something familiar. Something some part of him already knew because of course you were his family.

A soft smile pulled at the corner of Din’s mouth as the two of you dozed, bathed in blue starlight, until he realized that he wasn’t the only one who was going to miss you. The kid had grown fond of you, to say the absolute least. When he wasn’t toddling after Din or causing trouble, he was attached to your hip. But your days together were numbered.

He didn’t have time to dwell on that reality. He was suddenly pulled from deep within his own mind by the quiet beep of an incoming holo. With the flick of a single switch, Greef Karga’s figure, in miniature and cast in static blue light, appeared on the console.

Karga’s booming voice filled the silent cabin. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days, Mando.”

“I’ve been out of range.”

“While I’m sure your new quest has taken you to the furthest reaches of this galaxy, there are more pressing matters at hand here on Nevarro. Would you care to tell me why Moff Gideon, the man you supposedly killed, is amassing stormtroopers outside my city?” he asked pointedly. “Word is he’s looking for you.”

“I’m aware,” Din sighed. “I’ll be there in a few days. I have something I need to take care of first.”

“Something or someone?” Karga mused lowly with a deep chuckle. Din followed his line of sight. Next to him, you’d woken and leaned forward in your seat just enough for the holocam to pick up your image. You watched the guild leader with interest. “Who might this stunning creature be?”

“End of the week,” Din said curtly before switching off the holo.

“Who was that?” you asked. You spoke softly, mindful of the baby in your hold. Your tired gaze lingered on the spot where Karga’s figure stood a moment ago before drifting to Din.

“No one.”

“Right,” you said with a gentle roll of your eyes. “I heard you mention Nevarro.”

“He’s an old associate.”

“A friend?” you supplied, brows lifting with the question.

“Sometimes.”

“Well, I imagine that means something coming from you.” There was a glint of humor in your eyes but faded into something more serious as you leveled him with a stern look. “Are you sure we shouldn’t go there first?” you asked, not for the first time. “You know I’m good in a fight.”

A small huff of a laugh escaped him. You could hold your own, of that he had no doubt. And the thought of having you with him for a few extra days was nothing short of tempting. Still, something told him that was how things were meant to happen. That was the original deal the two of you struck up, after all, and the course was already set. The Crest was less than a day out from the Lah’mu sector. It would be easier on his own heart to stick to it. Surprisingly, your argument from the day before had faded into the background. He’d come to expect more of a fight from you, but you’d rejoined him in the cockpit that morning as if nothing had happened.

He decided it was best not to prompt another argument. He stood and held out a hand to you. “It’s been a long day. You should go to bed.”

You placed your hand in his and let him pull you to your feet before you gently handed the still-sleeping baby to him. “You should too.”

The kid didn’t so much as stir as Din placed him in his makeshift hammock above his cot. He started to remove his armor, stowing the Beskar for a few hours of much needed reprieve. Lost deep in his own tired mind, he didn’t hear you emerge from the ship’s small refresher.

“What’s that?”

“What?”

“That.” He glanced over his shoulder at you just in time to see you gesturing toward the compartment.

“Exactly what it looks like.” That time he heard you move closer to him as you peered around his form.

“You’ve been sleeping here?” you asked incredulously. “I thought there was another bunkroom.”

“No,” Din answered flatly. He couldn’t see why that was an issue – especially at the late hour but the scowl on your face as you moved between him and the compartment told him that you expected a better explanation. “Technically there aren’t any bunkrooms on the Crest. Yours was extra carbonite storage for backlog. I converted it recently because the kid kept trying to crawl in here with me and there’s not exactly enough space for two. I wasn’t taking on any quarries so I figured it would work temporarily.”

“And you gave it to me?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you do that?”

“It’s nothing,” he said, hoping to brush it off.

“Mando,” you sighed, sounding stuck somewhere between exasperation and gratitude. You pursed your lips as you looked back at the cot. “This the sorriest excuse for a bed I’ve ever seen. I’m not letting you sleep here.”

“Where would you have me sleep?” he asked, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice.

“In your bed,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. You could be so stubborn when you wanted. Almost as stubborn as him.

“And you?” he asked.

“I’ll be there too.” There was a hint of a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

“Last time–”

Your voice dropped to a whisper, but it was enough to make him forget the rest of his sentence. “I miss having you in my bed.”

A chill shot down his spine and settled low inside him as he watched you scale the ladder that led to your room and left him to follow. Just before you disappeared, you threw a playful insult back at him. “Di’kut.”

His chest deflated as a deep sigh fell from his lips. “Let me guess who taught you that,” he called after you, rolling his eyes at your receding figure. He sealed the small compartment and followed you up.

“You had your chance to teach me nice things in Mando’a,” you retorted. “Now I can insult you seven ways to Scarif!”

“Great,” he muttered with a light laugh.

“To be fair,” you offered when he finally walked into your small bunkroom, “Paz called me an idiot too.”

Din froze at the threshold as a cold fear rushed over him. “He told you his name?” he hissed.

“Yeah.” You said it almost lightly, but Din heard the slight edge undercutting your words. He knew you understood the significance of the act. He could see it in the way you teased your bottom lip between your teeth. “I didn’t ask. He just told me. He said it was okay,” you tried to clarify. “It’s not like I expect you��”

“Do you want to know?” he replied quickly despite not knowing if he was prepared to give it if you said yes. While there were a few select people who knew his name now, he had never shared it with anyone himself. If Vizsla could share his name with someone outside the covert, then so could he. Right?

“Of course I do. I want to know all of you,” you started slowly. You stepped closer to him, gently resting your hands on his last piece of armor. Your eyes followed the path of your fingers as you traced the mended edge of his cuirass. “But I only want what pieces of yourself you want to share with me. I would never ask.”

“I know you wouldn’t. You never ask for anything.”

“I asked you to come to bed with me,” you teased, trying to divert the conversation.

“No. You told me.” You smiled almost shyly and made to move away, but Din reached for your hands and held you in place. “Ask me for something. I’ll give it to you.” You eyed him for a long moment as you considered his request. He could see the thoughts racing in your mind. “Ask me for anything,” he repeated.

“Anything?”

“Yes.”

“I want you to promise me something.”

“A promise?” His brows furrowed behind the visor.

“Do you remember our last conversation that morning at the covert? Because I haven’t forgotten it.” Neither had Din. He nodded once and you squeezed his hands. “No matter what answers we find on Lah’mu, no matter where your journey takes you and your son next, no matter how many years or decades it’s been since we parted,” you took a deep breath as your voice wavered, “I want you to promise me that you will pursue a life that makes you happy. The both of you. Whatever that may be.”

Din had no response to that. He’d given you permission to ask him for anything and for some godsforsaken reason you asked for his happiness. He was struck, hardly for the first time, by just how much good there was in you. That you could possibly care about him that way even amidst your own turmoil. He would’ve preferred you ask him to call his tribe members for help. “Sweetheart–” he tried to admonish.

“Promise me, you stubborn Mandalorian,” you demanded with a new fire in your eyes. “You said you would give me anything. That’s what I want. If I can’t— If I can’t be there with you, I at least want to know in my heart that wherever you are, you are happy.” When he didn’t say anything, you pleaded. “Please, Mando.”

Lifting a hand to the back of your head, he drew you closer to him and gently pressed his helmet to your forehead, kissing you in the only way he could in that moment. “I promise,” Din swore even though that didn’t change the fact that there was only one way he ended up happy.

“Thank you,” you sighed as if he’d given you something you needed. Without parting, your fingers dipped beneath the edge of his cuirass. “May I?” He nodded against you and you pulled just enough to deactivate the magnetic hold. Others had tried to take his armor off in the past, usually by force, but with you it felt like a barrier. Something keeping him from what he really wanted.

As Din laid in the too-small bunk with you, your words echoed in his mind. If I can’t be there with you, I at least want to know in my heart that wherever you are, you are happy. With every quiet moment that passed, each one somehow longer than the next, he seemed to move closer to you, and you to him, until you met somewhere in the middle. His forehead knocked against yours again and as your breath ghosted across his face, he fought his overwhelming desire to kiss you. Really kiss you. To show you just how much your care for him affected him. But he remembered what happened the last time you’d tried something like that. It ended with you crying into his chest as he held you through the long night.

He asked anyway. “Can I kiss you?” he rasped.

“I thought you just did, Mandalorian,” you teased.

He rolled you over onto your back, caging you in as he leaned on his elbows to hover above you. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he rasped.

Before you could offer some smart retort, he slotted his mouth over yours. Despite his eagerness, he felt clumsy and unpracticed. Considering he’d never kissed anyone before you, he absolutely was. You were the only one he’d ever wanted like this. Based on the breathy little noises you made for him, you didn’t seem to mind his inexperience.

He pressed the weight of his body into yours, pinning you beneath him, until there was no space between you. You were molded to him and him to you in a way that felt natural. It felt right. He was growing accustomed to it even as he knew he shouldn’t. But those moments with you, unmasked and exposed, were too enticing.

Din never said he was a good man.

… . …

In the light of an early morning, you ran through an open field surrounded by a forest of tall evergreens. Soft wild grass cushioned each stride as you sprinted toward the tree line, chasing the fresh, spicy scent. Behind you, someone pursued you at full speed.

No. That wasn’t right.

You glanced over your shoulder only to find not one but two young children sprinting after you, squealing and smiling. Your heart practically burst at the sight of their unbridled joy and a laugh of your own bubbled past your lips. You slowed your pace, giving in to them easily, and two sets of arms wrapped around your legs. You knelt in the dewy grass, rewarding them with snug hugs and kisses on their chubby cheeks, and earning yourself another jubilant round of laughter from them both.

Together, they begged you to chase them next, and unable to deny them anything, you readily agreed. You stood, shooing them off to get a head start. But they wouldn’t run away just yet. Not when they were too distracted by something behind you. Another pair of arms, only much stronger, wrapped around you.

The kids ran off, shouting catch us, dad! A low rumble reverberated through your back as the man behind you laughed at the children’s wild antics. Your eyes fell closed as you leaned into him, deciding you’d follow the children in a moment. Right then all you wanted was to savor his embrace. It felt like the closest thing to home you’d ever known.

You turned your head as if to look over your shoulder and a pair of lips met yours. Even after the kiss ended, you didn’t part. The feel of his smile hovering against your lips was almost as intoxicating as his kiss.

“Good morning, Din,” you sighed.

You startled awake with a sharp inhale.

Disoriented and scared, you tried to make sense of what you’d just seen. That dream felt real. Too real. Considering the turn your life had taken in the past few weeks, you had no idea what it was. A remnant of your vision. An offering from the Force. Or just your imagination playing tricks on you. It seems like the closer you get to Lah’mu, the more the Force saw fit to taunt you with that other future.

Your eyes searched the pitch-black room for some sort of sign as to where you were, but you couldn’t see anything. Instead, you felt an arm around your waist, holding you securely.

Mando’s arm.

You were still on the Razor Crest, tucked away in your shared bunk that was too small for the both of you, and he was fast asleep behind you, warm and solid. You felt him shift behind you, lifting his head from his pillow to look down at you in the dark.

“Are you okay?” he asked hoarsely. Even in sleep that man missed nothing. Mando’s hold on you tightened, pulling you back against his chest.

“Yeah,” you assured him. “Just a dream.”

“Another nightmare?”

“No. Not quite. Just...” You screwed your eyes shut and tried to banish the lingering images, or rather sensations, of that other man from your mind. Mando’s voice cut through your daze as he called your name, drawing you back into the present. “Just strange. It almost felt like another vision.”

“Of your future on Lah’mu?”

“I don’t think so.”

Din shifted closer. “Your other future?”

“Yes,” you offered meekly.

“What do you dream of? With him?” The question hurt and you said nothing for a long time. The more time you spent with Mando and the baby, the more certain you were that you’d made the right choice. A life on Lah’mu as a lonely Jedi master was more appealing than a future with a stranger you could never love. Not when your heart belonged to the man lying next to you. Seeing him amongst his people had only reinforced your conclusion that Mando was not the man in your vision. It was not the way. His way. But you supposed that didn’t matter and you were only making yourself upset for no reason by reminding yourself of the fact. You’d chosen your path. “You can tell me,” he prompted again.

You shook your head and craned your neck to face him even though he couldn’t see you. You were so close your noses brushed, but he made no move to part. “No, I don’t think I can.”

A tension hung between you as you waited for his response. “The offer stands,” he finally replied.

“And I appreciate that.” But all you really wanted was to put that dream out of your mind and forget about it entirely. The man next to you provided the perfect distraction.

You closed that last bit of space between you, letting your mouths meet in a slow, lingering kiss. His soft, slightly chapped lips matched with yours with aching tenderness. Just like that, with him, you felt safe from all the uncertainties your future held. You decided you could indulge in it just a little while longer. Continue what he’d started the night before.

“Good morning, Mando,” you sighed around a lazy smile when you finally parted.

“Good morning, cyar’ika.”

He sounded happier, and your grin pulled taut and you turned in his arms. Holding his face with your hands, your lips melded with his again. He didn’t start at your touch anymore. He sought it out. With a hand gripping your hip, he pressed you closer.

“I could stay right here,” you murmured your confession against his lips in between hungry kisses, “forever.”

“Fuck, so could I,” he admitted. You slipped your tongue into his mouth as his lips parted around his words, earning a broken, desperate moan from him.

He let you roll him into his back, and you moved so that you were on top of him, a knee pressing into the thin mattress on either side of him. Your hungry mouths slotted together once more.

You longed to feel his skin against yours again and as his hands slid lower, you thought he was going to free you from your tunic. But then his hands traveled further, past the hemline, over your hips and just kept going until he squeezed the swell of your backside, fingers digging into your fabric covered flesh, and ground your hips down against him. Against something hard.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped into his mouth. He chuckled darkly against your cheek as he did it again. That had no right to feel that good. You’d had your suspicions, but knowing he wanted you like that was a whole new thrill. “Eager this morning?” you asked as you searched for breath.

“You started it,” he said low and teasing while nipping at your bottom lip.

“Let me kiss you while I can.” He stilled his movements beneath you. You’d meant it as a joke, but it hurt. You pulled away and rested your head against his chest, letting out a long, slow exhalation as that all-consuming melancholy that seeped into the stolen moment. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s fine,” he ground out. It wasn’t fine. You could hear it in his voice. Even as he moved you off of him with the gentlest touch, you felt the distance growing between you once more. He slipped out of the bunk and you listened to him search for his helmet in the dark, but you sensed him hesitate and he turned back to you, cupping your face between his hands and pressing his lips to yours. There was something about this kiss that felt different. There was a desperate sort of passion that sends adrenaline coursing through your veins. You return it with equal fervor, pouring all your love for him into that kiss.

“What was that for?” you asked when he finally parted from you.

“I never know.”

“Know what?”

When he spoke next, his voice came to you filtered through the modulator. “I never know when it will be our last.”

The truth of his words tore through you, leaving you feeling cold as you packed your things and emptied the converted bunkroom of all traces of you.

After descending the Razor Crest’s ramp, your boots hit the soft grass first, sinking slightly into the black soil that covered the planet. A cool, misty air kissed your skin as you stepped away from the safety of the ship. Your eyes scanned the green valley, landing on the small settlement that dotted the landscape.

You felt Mando approach. He stopped a half step behind you, but his presence felt heavy, almost overwhelming, as you tried to focus. Still, you knew he’d wait for your call.

“She’s here,” you announced quietly, voice barely audible over the crashing waves. You peered back at him over your shoulder, finding his dark visor already trained on you. His helmet tilted slightly. Your heart swelled with affection at the familiar, inquisitive movement. You were well beyond chastising yourself for the sentiment, even if it hurt. “And I think she’s close.” You tore your eyes away from him, ignoring the way the words seemed to get stuck in your throat. Finding your former master had been your goal for years. Now, for the first time in nearly a decade, the two of you were on the same planet. Yet you felt no joy at that momentous fact.

You felt a steady hand rest between your shoulder blades. “I’m right behind you, cyar’ika. Lead the way.”

After a few hours of trekking along the base of the rolling hills at the direction of one talkative settler, you found a lone woman meditating in a grassy field. She faced away from you, but the lavender hair styled in a low chignon and dark flowing robes told you exactly who she was.

“Wait here,” you directed without ever taking your eyes off of her. A familiar hand wrapped around yours, stalling you. “It’ll be okay, Mando, but you have to let go.”

You took another step forward and your hand slipped out of his. When you stopped a few paces away, you hesitated. Even after all the years you’d spent searching for your former master, you never figured out what you wanted to say.

Before you could so much as open your mouth, a flash of violet light cut across your vision. Reacting on instinct, you reached for your lightsaber, blocking the attack at the last moment.

Falling back a step, you grounded yourself before meeting her next strike. A clash of blue and purple plasma sputtered before you. Over the cross of your sabers, you saw her calculating amber eyes flick to the side as she lifted a hand. Daring a glance back, you saw Mando frozen in place, blaster drawn and ready to fire.

The force behind your next attack sent Zarichi reeling.

“You hurt them,” you said through gritted teeth in between parries, “and I’ll strike you down where you stand.”

“You don’t have it in you,” she scoffed.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“I taught you everything.” Her next drive, three strong blows you narrowly managed to counter, landed you flat on your back with her saber at your neck. The slightest move would’ve singed your skin. “And you’re out of practice, padawan.”

Before she could so much disengage her lightsaber, she was thrown across the field by some unseen force. You watched her tumble to the ground in a heap before snapping your head to the kid. He stood next to his father, hand outstretched and eyes closed. “Damn,” you breathed.

Zarichi stood and dusted herself off, eyes locked on the baby at Mando’s side. “How curious,” she assed, with a hint of a laugh. Without another word, she set off back toward the settlement. Sighing, you fell back against the grass.

With the baby clutched to his chest and a hand on his hip, Mando appeared above you. “That’s your master?” He didn’t sound amused.

“What’d you expect?” you asked with a shrug. “She’s a Jedi.”

... . ...

Thank you for reading!

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#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #fic: the light of stars

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years ago

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Breakable Heaven (pt. I) - p.l. dubois

As promised, here’s the first part of Breakable Heaven! I’m really excited for this one, there’s so many things I can’t wait for you all to read. This chapter is more setup and background, but I promise it’s all worth it! I’d love it if you reblogged (helps me know people like my work!) or pop into my inbox and let me know what you think! I read all the tags :)

part I part ii part iii part iv

June 4 (thurs)

Laurel clipped her pager back onto her scrubs, leaning over the counter of the nurses’ station. “You ready to go grab lunch?” She had just finished changing the bandages and administering pain medication for a little boy who was recovering from a heart surgery, and was looking forward to getting off her feet for a few minutes. The PICU floor was quiet, only about half of the rooms being filled, and there were no pressing matters that required her attention. If something drastic changed in the next half an hour, she always had her pager.

Madeline looked up from her chair, where she was finishing up filling in a patient’s chart. “Sounds good,” she said, letting their charge nurse know that they were headed down. Madeline Peltier had been one of the first people to introduce themselves to Laurel when she started; having only been on the unit for two weeks herself, she was still getting a handle on the reins and was more than willing to show Laurel around.

Madeline was also one of the few on the floor who was just as comfortable in English as she was in French. French had been Laurel’s foreign language through college, but she was made rudely aware upon her move to Montréal that the pronunciation and slang of Canadian French was very different from the Standard French of Madame Anderson’s rural Minnesota classroom. Her grasp of the language was good enough to take the Québec nursing licensure exam — which wasn’t even offered in English — but the spoken dialect was proving much more difficult to pick up. They walked down to the cafeteria, on the second floor, grabbing some sandwiches before swiping their ID badges for the employee discount.

“I still think they should give us free food,” Madeline said moodily, unscrewing her water bottle and taking a sip.

Laurel laughed. “When hell freezes over, maybe. Doctor’s lounge usually has some pretty nice stuff set out, or at least that’s what they say. Pity our cards don’t let us in, I’m not above identity theft.” Madeline snorted into her sandwich.

“What are you doing this weekend?” Madeline asked a few minutes later, starting to peel an orange.

“Uh, not much?” Laurel said. “Getting my papers together to resign my lease in a few weeks, grocery shopping, but nothing big. It’s been a long few shifts this week and I’m mostly just looking forward to taking it easy. Why?”

“If you’re up to it,” Madeline shrugged, “Patrice and I are going out for dinner Saturday night and we’d love for you to join us.” Patrice was Madeline’s long-time boyfriend, they started dating in university and had been together ever since.

Laurel rolled her eyes. “Madeline, thank you for the offer, but I don’t want to keep being your third wheel.”

Madeline let out a conspiratorial grin. Oh no, Laurel thought. This can’t be good. “As it would so happen,” she said, “you wouldn’t be third wheeling. One of Patrice’s friends is back in the city for a few months, and I think you two might hit it off,” she sing-songed. Madeline had been trying to set her up from practically the moment they met; whether it was someone from her gym, one of the critical care fellows, or apparently, her boyfriend’s childhood friend. They were always nice guys, but nothing had ever stuck for more than a date or two.

---

Twelve hour shifts meant that, at least on work days, there was no way Laurel was going to have the emotional or physical capacity to make herself a real dinner. She’d order in occasionally, but it more common to just pull together something quick like a frozen pizza or grab whatever leftovers she could find in the fridge. Yesterday’s chicken and rice it was, then. Sticking it in the microwave, Laurel opened the door to her balcony, letting Piper out to use the bathroom. Piper was an eight-month-old chocolate lab, the love of her life who she had adopted just after the new year. Laurel had always grown up with dogs; back in Minnesota she had Jackson and Lucy, and she had been missing them more than a little bit since moving to Canada. Piper was incredible. Intelligent, loyal, and so friendly that even her neighbor’s notoriously picky five-year-old son had taken a shine to her. She wolfed down her food, grabbed Piper’s leash and her water bottle, and headed out the door.

June 5 (fri)

The intricacies of language were hard. And, somehow, learning the intricacies of a language you already knew was even harder. Laurel was trying her damndest to pick up Québecois French as fast as humanly possible, but while she could conjugate l’imparfait in her sleep, the accent and vocabulary were what was really throwing her off. But she intended on making a life in Montréal, and staying as long as she could, so there really wasn’t any option but to hit the books. Immersion worked for some people, and thank God she knew the medical terminology to communicate with her patients and their families, but it wasn’t quite the same when she was struggling through telling the mechanic her car needed an oil change. In a perfect world she’d have someone to help her one-on-one, but she didn’t want to ask Madeline for that big of a favor. And while she made decent money at the hospital — she could afford her own apartment and had a little left over every month to put into savings — it was nowhere near enough to pay for a tutor. So Duolingo, and podcasts, and Youtube lessons it was.

Letting out a groan, Laurel leaned her head into her hands, shutting her laptop. She wasn’t going to make any progress being this frustrated. She bent down to scratch Piper, whose favorite spot for naps was a blanket right beside Laurel’s desk, between the ears, pulling her leash and collar off of their book by her bedroom door. Piper’s ears perked up, and soon enough she was running around the apartment wagging her tail as fast as it could go, a slightly exasperated but nevertheless laughing Laurel following. She finally managed to clip on her leash; at fifty pounds, Piper still had a little bit of growing left to do, but she had already proven she was more than capable of bending the will of a full-grown and otherwise capable 23-year-old woman.

She had discovered Parc Saint-François-d’Assise a few weeks after adopting Piper, and had thanked her lucky stars for finding a dog park so close to her apartment. Having a schedule like hers meant that she couldn’t always get her to a weekly training or obedience class — plus, the French that she did know certainly didn’t include ‘heel’ — so the time spent socializing was well-appreciated. It was only a fifteen minute walk, and Piper was good enough on a leash that she only stopped once to bark at a squirrel in one of the many birch trees that lined the street. The park was an acre or two, small enough that she could see all the way across and keep an eye on Piper as she let her off-leash, but big enough that there was more than enough room for all the animals. It wasn’t particularly crowded that Friday; Laurel was confused for a moment before she remembered that most people were busy at 11 AM on a weekday. There were a few families, with kids out for the summer from school, and a man playing in the far corner with his two small dogs, but not much else.

Laurel leaned down, unclipping the leash from Piper’s collar, and gave the chocolate lab a scratch on the head. “Have fun, girl!” Piper never needed much encouragement, and took off running almost before Laurel had even wrapped up her leash. Rolling her eyes and laughing, she picked up her phone. A text from Allison, one of her only friends in the city aside from Madeline, inviting her out for her birthday next week. Madeline, giving her the address for the restaurant the next night. The Duolingo owl, threatening her with bodily harm if she didn’t log her language progress for the day. She was so engrossed in checking her email that she didn’t hear the shout for her to look out, or the two bulldogs barreling towards her at full speed, until they had knocked her off her feet and she landed straight on her ass.

“Desolé. Vas-tu bien?” The man asked, holding out a hand and helping her up. Laurel nodded, brushing the dirt off her jeans.

“Ouais, ouais. Pas de problème, pas de mal. Ils sont chiens, non?”

He chuckled, patting the smaller of the two bulldogs, which had decided to take a break from accosting passers-by to get petted. “C’est vrai.” They talked for another minute or two before saying goodbye, but she could have sworn it was an hour.

Walking Piper home half an hour later, Laurel was struck with two realizations. The mystery man — bulldog dad, as she had started calling him in her internal monologue — had very possibly the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen in her life, and she’d be cursing herself for the next week for not getting his number.

June 6 (sat)

Saturday meant Laurel had a day off, but more importantly, Saturday meant she didn’t have to set her alarm for 5:30 and could actually wake up at a semi-normal hour. Her internal clock didn’t wake her up until half past seven; even then, it was Piper’s soft barks that finally got her up, throwing on a pait of shorts, and leading her out to the courtyard down the hallway to use the bathroom before coming back to her apartment and throwing open the fridge doors. No 7 AM shift meant that she mercifully had enough time to make a proper breakfast. On shift days, there never seemed to be enough time to actually sit down and eat, and Laurel usually ended up just having a quick bowl of cereal or some overnight oats and making a protein shake to drink on the drive over. Eggs, bread, yogurt, a peach she had picked up from the farmer’s market.

After the bread was done toasting and her tea was finished steeping, she gingerly carried the food out to the balcony, placing it on the table as Piper trotted out behind her. Laurel crunched her toast with one hand as she flipped the pages of a book with the other, a Shirley Chisholm biography that Victoria, her best friend from high school, had recommended her. It was almost an hour later when she finally found a good place to stop. As much as she may have liked to just camp out on her balcony all day and blow through the rest of the book, her pantry was crying out for a grocery run and she was running desperately low on ice cream.

---

The dinner reservation was at 7, and by 6:30 Laurel was almost ready to leave. Her blue skirt fanned out on the couch as she sat killing time on her phone, tapping the floor nervously with the same pair of block heels that she’d worn to her university graduation. The restaurant wasn’t far from her apartment building, so a few minutes later, she decided to go, leaving Piper with a pat on the head and plenty of food in her bowl. Laurel laughed to herself on the way over, her eyes flickering over the skyline as she walked alongside the St. Lawrence River.

It’s like what she had told Madeline over and over again, every time she tried to set her up on a blind date with a friend of a friend. She wasn’t actively looking for a relationship but wouldn’t be opposed to it. Whatever happens, happens. Biting her lip, Laurel decided that even if she didn’t hit it off with whatever guy Madeline was trying to set her up, even if things go horribly wrong and he’s the exact opposite of what she’s looking for in a partner, she’ll get a free meal and, hopefully, a new friend.

Laurel hadn’t been told much about her blind date, or anything, really. She didn’t even know his name. From what she had been able to figure out, he was from the area but didn’t work in Canada most of the year — so maybe he was in business? All Madeline told her was that he was tall, attractive, and had a dog. Or was it two? She honestly couldn’t remember. She trusted her and Patrice’s judgement, so if he had gotten their stamp of approval, it was good enough for her. She grabbed her phone out of her bag as she neared the restaurant, letting Madeline know she was almost there and asking where to meet her. She told the hostess she was meeting some friends, and Madeline walked around the corner less than a minute later. “Hi, love!” she said, reaching out and wrapping Laurel in a warm hug. “We’re over this way.” Laurel followed her around the corner and past the bar to a four-seater against the wall. She slid into the seat closest to the wall, leaving a space empty.

“He should be back in a minute, just ran to the bathroom,” Patrice said, nodding towards the vacant seat and referring to her mystery man. A minute passed, Laurel scanning the wine list, before Madeline threw her hand up in greeting.

“Salut, PL!” When Laurel looked up, she almost dropped her menu.

“Oh my God!” The stranger — PL’s — eyes widened in recognition. “You’re the bulldog dad!”

He chuckled, rounding the table to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. Left, then right. It had taken Laurel a while to get used to; even going to university in Toronto, cheek kissing was practically obsolete, but that changed very quickly upon her move to Montréal. “I am. Pierre-Luc Dubois, good to meet you properly this time.”

Madeline looked between the two, clearly confused. “You know each other?”

Laurel shook her head. “Not really, no. His dogs ran into me at the park yesterday when I was there with Piper, we talked for a minute or two.”

Pierre nodded in affirmation. “So, Piper. The chocolate lab’s yours then?”

“My pride and joy.”

June 13 (sun)

Over the next week and a half, it became more and more common for Laurel to meet up with the group on the weekend, or one of her off days, or really whenever she had spare time. She had learned that Pierre-Luc was a hockey player, Patrice explaining that they had played atom league together growing up and the friendship had somehow stuck. Come to think of it, he had looked a little familiar. The University of Minnesota Duluth was less than an hour drive from her hometown, and besides being the college that the majority of the 50% of college-bound graduates of her high school went to, it also had one of the best hockey programs in the country. So she knew the sport, followed enough to be informed, and had even become a de facto Maple Leafs fan from her time in Toronto.

Sometimes Madeline and Laurel would bring another friend from the hospital along, sometimes it was just the four of them. Once, a Sunday afternoon coffee meetup turned into just Laurel and Pierre-Luc; Patrice had come down with a bad cold and Madeline was staying behind to look after him. If she was being honest, it was far less awkward than she had anticipated. Pierre had insisted on buying her iced capp, and they had settled in a corner booth, sharing a box of Timbits.

“Patrice mentioned you’re from the U.S., somewhere in the Midwest?” Pierre asked, sipping his coffee.

She nodded. “Cloquet, Minnesota,” Laurel sighed, “where there is exactly one hotel, one high school, and life revolves around the mines.”

Pierre sucked in. “That sounds...interesting,” he said diplomatically.

Laurel laughed. “It’s okay, you don’t have to mince words. The people are nice, if you think like they do, and the scenery is gorgeous, but…” She gathered her thoughts. “It’s not the place you can really dream big, you know?” He nodded. “Neither of my parents went to college, my mom’s a receptionist at the elementary school and my dad works in the mines. I knew by the time I was in high school that I wanted something more. There was just nothing for me there, and I didn’t ever want to feel as trapped and beaten down as some people I know.”

Pierre leaned back in his chair. “Do you go back often?”

“Once a year, maybe twice?” Laurel said, shaking her head. “I’ve only got a few good friends back there, and trust me, they’re much more excited to come to big-city Canada than I would be to go back to a town of 12,000 people.”

“Fair enough.”

Conversation between them flowed easily, so easily that before she knew it, two hours had gone by and he had to leave for a skate. As she walked back to the metro, Laurel couldn’t help but shake the feeling that the two hours she had spent with Pierre had felt more like a date than any she’d been on since moving to Montréal a year ago. But it couldn’t have been a date, because it wasn’t supposed to be. Right?

June 15 (tues)

It was half past seven on Tuesday, and Laurel was just getting home from work. She loved her job, genuinely, but twelve hour shifts were no joke. Spinning her key ring around her finger, she stopped in the mailroom, unlocking her box and fishing out the stack of envelopes that had accumulated in the two days since she’d last checked. Walking over to the elevators, she held the bundle in one hand as the other punched in her button to the third floor. Laurel flipped through the envelopes as the doors opened. Water bill, bank statement, letter from Immigration, Refugees, and Citizenship Canada. Hang on. Laurel stopped at the last envelope, running her finger under the flap as she turned her key in the lock, opening the door with her hip and letting it slam shut behind her.

She had applied a little over a month ago for her permanent residency card, which she had been assured by everyone she asked would be a relatively easy and painless process. “You’re a nurse, and a good one. I could use ten of you,” her charge nurse had stated. “You went to school here, you have a Canadian degree and a Canadian license. There’s no reason they would cause you any trouble,” Madeline had said. And she had done her due diligence, double-checked every piece of information, checked off every document on the list. Done everything she was supposed to do. So when she unfolded the paper, the words shocked her.

Denied. Laurel brought her hand shakily up to her mouth as her eyes raced down the letter. No explanation was given, all she was told was that her application had been rejected and she had until September 17, when her work visa expired, to leave the country. The first thing Laurel did was frantically grab her laptop, seeing if there was some way she could apply for a visa extension, but the deadline had passed; she’d have to go back to the consulate in Minneapolis and try to re-apply from there, but her chances weren’t good if she’d already been rejected. The second thing she did was collapse on the floor, Piper nosing herself under her arm, and cry.

June 16 (wed)

When the group met up for lunch the next day, Madeline noticed something was off about Laurel almost immediately. Normally someone who was hyper-focused on the task at hand, she was stirring her straw around in her glass, nibbling at a piece of bread and answering questions shortly if at all. “What’s up?” she asked carefully, catching Laurel’s eye as she tried to busy herself with straightening her napkin. There wasn’t really a way she could get out of answering that one.

“I, uh, I got a letter yesterday,” she said. Pierre and Patrice stopped their conversation. All eyes were on her. “From immigration services. They told me,” her eyes pricked with tears, “they told me my PR application was denied, and I only have until the middle of September before I have to leave.”

“Like, leave the country?” Pierre asked. She nodded. “But can’t you renew your visa or something?”

“No, I looked into everything.” Laurel said in frustration, shaking her head. “There’s not enough time for it to be processed, I’d have to go back and reapply in the States, and even then the chances aren’t great.”

Madeline leaned over, wrapping Laurel up in a hug. “Oh, Laur. I’m so sorry,” she said. “You don’t deserve this.”

“It’s just hard,” Laurel started, “knowing that there’s nothing there for me back home. That’s the whole reason why I came to Canada in the first place, to get away. To get out. I’d have to retake all my licensure exams and find a new job and I don’t want to have to start all over when that’s not at all what I planned for. I thought I’d stay. I thought this was going to be my home”

“I can call my friend who’s a lawyer, see if he’s got any ideas?” Patrice offered.

Laurel smiled weakly “Thanks, Patrice, but I really don’t think they’d be able to do much. I was on the website for hours, and there’s like two ways I wouldn’t be kicked out of the country. And I don’t think I’m going to be able to give birth by September 17,” she said, letting out a watery laugh.

“You’d have to marry someone or something to stay,” Madeline said.

“Yeah, that’s the only other way it was going to happen,” Laurel agreed. “But seeing as how I’m obscenely single, I don’t see that happening…” She trailed off.

“I’d marry you,” Pierre said suddenly, shrugging.

Laurel’s head whipped to her side. “You’d what?”

“I’d marry you. We’re both single, by all accounts you’re an amazing nurse and deserve to stay. We get married, stay ‘together’ for a few years until you get your citizenship, and then tragically inform the citizenship and immigration people that while we tried, it just didn’t work out, and get a divorce. Easy peasy.”

Laurel almost burst out laughing, the idea was so ridiculous. She almost couldn’t wrap her head around what he was offering to do. He couldn’t be serious. Right?

---

Laurel slung her arm over her head, body tangled up in bedsheets. According to her phone, it was well past one. She couldn’t sleep. She had tried rain sounds, counting sheep, drinking a cup of chamomile tea, but nothing was working; she just wasn’t able to still her mind. Honestly, she couldn’t stop thinking about lunch earlier. More specifically, what Pierre had said.

As much of a bad person as it may have made her sound, the more she thought about Pierre’s offer, the more it made sense. He was incredibly attractive, so it wouldn’t be hard to fake a marriage to him for a few years. She really didn’t keep in contact with anyone from back home in Cloquet aside from her family and a few friends from high school, so it’s not like there would really be anyone to blow her cover. And she really, really wanted to stay in Canada. It wasn’t just the scenery, or the general human decency of everyone, or even the universal healthcare that pushed her to stay. She had fallen in love with the people, the city, and didn’t want to go down without a fight.

Rolling over, she grabbed her phone from her nightstand, pulling up Pierre’s contact. Hey, she texted. Laurel immediately cursed herself as the three dots popped up on his side. Hey? She was going to ask this man to marry her and the best she could come up with was hey? He wrote back immediately. Hey. You’re up late, what’s up? Laurel took a deep breath. How serious were you about offering to marry me? His second response was even faster than the first. As a heart attack.

#hockey imagine #hockey writing #pierre luc dubois #hockey smut #nhl imagine #hockey #nhl imagines #nhl smut #hockey imagines #nhl writing #nhl

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puppypeter · 4 years ago

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1999 words Stucky prompt? *sorry*

Ok so I couldn’t go to sleep last night because I kept thinking of this Stucky AU where Steve is an ex-military medic who is now retired because his wife passed away and he has to look after the family. He has like 10-12 kids between his own and adopted, big family, big house, a dog. The kids range between barely 1 year old set of twins to grumpy teenagers. He had to come back from war when his wife sadly passed away while giving birth to the twins and so he didn’t really get any time to re-adjust and he lives with the regret that he wasn’t even there for her when she needed him. He is struggling a lot, but tries to hide it for the sake of the kids. He runs the house a bit like a military base, there’s time tables, bathroom times, meal plans and menus, budgets etc wakes the troops up early in the morning to get them ready for school (he still struggles in the kitchen cause he’s barely used to having decent food again himself, let alone make something all kids eat!!), the oldest have to help with the youngest etc a big chaotic disaster of a family, but he’s trying. The kids miss their mom too, but it’s been a year now and daddy is still sad. He doesn’t know that they know he is. They see him stare into nothing at times, they know Sunday mornings are the day nobody is to bother daddy until he comes down for lunch (which he prepared on the Saturday already) because sometimes daddy finds it hard to sleep and other times he finds it hard to get out of bed. He always wants them to eat their greens, yet standing on the staircase late at night they’ve spotted him sitting on the couch eating ice-cream straight from the tub and weeping over Disney movies. And that has happened more than once.

So one day they’re at the park. Steve is laying down on their red and white cloth on the ground with all the food bags and the tiny twins next to him. They’re so cute, wiggling around at all the sounds and colours, he should want to play with them but all he feels is tired. The other kids are scattered around the park, between playing ball and looking at insects and on the swings. The younger kids have been talking about what they should do to make daddy happy. That’s when little Mary spots two men sitting on a bench. One of them is playing with a leash, probably of the big dog that’s just sitting at his feet, not even caring about going far. The other is wearing a leather jacket, slightly unzipped and a white furry kitten head pops out of it. “Which one of them do you think?” Peter asks. “That one!” Mary shouts just pointing at the guy with the kitten “look at his hair! he looks like a disney price, dad will love him!” (they don’t even know their dad is bisexual, bucky is just pretty so they’re confident he’ll like him).

So her and some of her siblings make their way over to the men and start asking them questions. Their names are Sam and Bucky (“That’s a weird name” Mary says). Sam teases Bucky by calling him prince charming, having heard the previous comment, and Bucky’s cheeks go pink. This little boy with his thick glasses on gets overly excited when he sees that one of Bucky’s hands is made of metal “So cool, like a robot!” and asks if he can touch it (cause daddy thought them it’s important to ask before). And Bucky just feels overwhelmed. He hasn’t been around this many people since he came back, the most people he’s had around were a bunch of doctors when they operated on him roughly a year and half ago, but he was sedated and unaware. He struggled for a while to get out of the house, to accept his disability, accept having a prosthesis he can’t really do anything with, having to learn to do everything one handed (he only ever wears it outside the house cause he doesn’t want people to stare at his empty sleeve, but the moment he’s at home he likes to give his shoulder a break).

Sam, he works as a counsellor at the VA has helped him a lot, and now they hang out together, but not in crowded places. This is why they like coming to the park. But now there’s a bunch of kids in his face and for the first time he doesn’t mind having many people around. Maybe because they’re little people and he knows they won’t hurt him. Maybe cause one of them is geeking out about his prosthesis he always felt self-conscious about. Mary invites him over to meet her dad (Sam cackles), but Bucky is definitely not ready for any form of relationship, let alone a romantic one. So he blushes and declines.

The kids leave a bit upset. After a while Mary comes back saying she’s hurt and lost. “You look fine to me kid!” Sam replies. So she dramatically throws herself on the grass and big fat tears start coming out of her eyes. After they laugh at her overly dramatic attitude, she stands up huffing and puffing and leaves clearly kicking her feet in the ground. “I mean maybe you should go for it!” Sam insists “It’s not like you have to marry the guy. You’re just meeting a new person, nothing has to come of it. Maybe you’ll make a friend, maybe you’ll never see him again, but you’d talk to someone that wasn’t me or the cashier at the deli by your flat”. Bucky knows that’s true, but he really can’t bring himself to. He still hasn’t talked to his family since he’s been back. Something about getting your arm blow off and seeing your mates blow up when it should have been you instead makes it difficult to relate to normal people.

It’s only maybe 20 minutes later when a blur of blonde hair and orange dungaree comes rushing towards them crying. “It ain’t gonna work missy!” Sam jokes. But Mary looks clearly upset. “Help my daddy please!”. They doubt her for a second, thinking it’s her amazing acting skills and they’re gonna go there and her dad is gonna be fine. But her lower lip is wobbling and she sounds seriously distressed. Plus they all see a bunch of kids clearly surrounding someone sitting on a blanket. So they follow her, cause that’s the right thing to do. When they get there they see this big burly man folded in half on himself with his hands in his hair, gripping at it, shaking, panicking. Sam immediately drops on his knees, but doesn’t touch him yet. Bucky has seen him do it plenty of times with himself, when he barely got out of bed to finally have some food and then started crying if he dropped a spoon on the floor or spilled a bit of coffee. He would be forever thankful to have had him as a counsellor and now as a friend.

Bucky steers the kids a bit away, asking the older ones to give them some space to help their dad. Together with a young woman, he scoops up one of the two babies in onesies that were on the blanket and leans one up on his chest. He can’t really do much with his metal arm, but geeky kid is currently holding onto it. After they move a bit further away, he passes on the baby to another older teenager and goes back to Sam. He sees that he has managed to get the man to unclench his fists from his hair and sees him panicking when he can’t see his kids. “They’re alright, they’re ok, they’re all together”.

And so that’s how they meet and they all go to a diner to get food (taking over like 4 different booths). They find out Steve is ex-military from the dog tags shape Bucky sees under his shirt. Steve has apparently had the ability to lie his way through his psych test coming back from the war simply because he knew he would lose his kids if he admitted how he was truly feeling. He is struggling with depression and has PTSD, but he’ll never admit it out loud. He has a family to care about. He says none of that, but Sam knows. He invites him to the VA, “just to talk, we’re not gonna call anyone on you my man, and it seems like you’re doing an amazing job considering you got a whole football team”.

The following week Sam and Bucky go over to his house for a bbq, bringing dog & cat along for the joy of the kids. It’s loud and it gets a bit much for Bucky at one point so he sneaks out to have a second of quiet. Steve finds him and they get talking. At some point Sam has to leave, an emergency with one of the veterans. But Bucky stays a little while.

He says he can leave when Steve calls out bed time for the youngest, but Steve asks him to stay, if he wants, it’s not gonna take him long, have a beer. Bucky glows seeing how Steve runs the bedtime routine for 10 kids, the older ones helping the younger ones to get to stay up a little longer. When he comes back they sit out back on the porch, sharing a cigarette and having a couple of beers. It’s quiet, they don’t talk much. Bucky’s shoulder is starting to ache a bit so he keeps rubbing it. They get talking about that, well.. the most that Bucky can say (how it happened, where it happened, then blackout. He can’t go into his feelings about it). “You.. you were from that unit?” Steve asks seemingly speechless. “That’s, that’s where I was operating. We rescued 3 people but we couldn’t get to everyone on time. There was someone closer to the explosion and their arm was….” he cuts off. “Steve” Bucky looks at him unable to breathe “are you telling me that you’re the one that rescued me from under the tank?” ((and it goes from there. it takes awhile but they get together and smooch (Mary acts like she’s about to throw up “But not because you’re two guys, just cause that’s daddy!!”). Bucky learns to open up and getting more comfortable around Steve without the prosthesis on. Steve still cries at Disney movies while eating ice cream, but this time every other spoonful goes to Bucky’s, whose arms he’s wrapped in on the couch. Steve starts going to see Sam at the VA and deal with his issues, because he wants to be there for his kids as they grow up, he doesn’t want to give up on them or himself. He deals and accepts what happened with his wife. He gets to grieve and heal. Sam comes over to their house so that his Missy (his dog) can hang out with her new buddy Dodger *wink wink* and because since starting to deal with his issues Steve has made an effort to reconnect with his friends and there’s a very beautiful redhead that hangs around his house at the weekends... Sam wouldn’t mind spending more time with her. A few more friends from the military come back into his life too - Clint, Thor, Maria, Sharon - and the kids have now a bunch more aunties and uncles to play with. At some point in the distant future, Bucky moves in. He never thought he’d get to have that. A big family, animals, a house. Maybe they have more kids at one point? Bucky reconnecting with his family? & lots more smooches and cuddles!!))

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ae0nx · 3 years ago

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FRUITS BASKET S3 EPISODE 1 + 2 RECAP!

Yayyy! Season 3! Finally! I’m hoping this season will make me understand/sympathise with Akito and maybe even Shigure a little bit more because... honestly? My opinions on episode 2?... I might get some flack for my opinions on them... 😬

But, first: I’d like to appreciate how on the Funimation app we got a little interview/message from a few of the english dub VAs! Specifically Colleen Clinkenbeard, Jerry Jewell, Eric Vale, Ian Sinclair and Brina Palencia (Akito, Kyo, Yuki, Kureno and Isuzu). And it was nice seeing some of their opinions of the characters they play and how much they’re emotionally invested in the story. (Ian’s such a nerd ‘I wanna see giant mechs later this season’ 😂 - I lowkey stan him lol)

You should definitely check it out if you’re interested in what they would have to say!

ANYWAYS, let’s get into it...

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

EPISODE 1

I really love this depiction of the original zodiac and how you can just tell from the tone of the scene how desperately the God of the Zodiac was clinging on to these connections that they had with the participants in the banquet. How much they clung on to and loved the cat... Also, interesting how Tohru’s narrating this scene... almost like she can relate to the desperation of wanting to keep things the same... but we’ll get to that later. But also, Tohru is a God

This new opening is beautiful, I love the way that camera moves around the still illustrations and how the general tone just hammers down that... this season is gonna be some real shit lol (which makes me nervous for the opening for the second half 😳). It’s so warped and the general blue, grey and black tone that follows around every Akito scene we get in the anime has bled into every scene in this opening concerning the rest of the zodiac. Almost... like something is decaying. It’s great, it’s just very sad lol. I love the song tho, issa bop.

One of my favourite things in stories is when we get a bigger villain than the ‘pronounced’ villain of the story. Ren’s introduction through a manicured outstretched hand towards Kureno and Hatori is so weirdly gross in what it insinuates (especially when you apply her connection with Shigure) but again... I wanna know why she’s such an asshole to Akito specifically besides the bad mental health management within the Sohma compound. I have an inkling of what it is through memory of the manga, but like Akito and Shigure... I just wanna understand why.

Also, Ren is gorgeous and I’m sorry for simping.

I mean... she’s kinda got a point? She just didn’t need to be so mean about it lol. It’s pretty clear that the connection the zodiac have to each other is real and something they cannot control. BUT, wouldn’t it be easier if this connection wasn’t perpetuated by outer circles of the family and if Akito herself wasn’t so cruel about it? But, I guess Akito - through her relationship with her mother - kinda doesn’t know how to genuinely show love and affection. (Which brings me into my thoughts of how the manga ends and how I kinda... have a few problems with it which I will get to... when that comes lol)

Lol - weeeeeeeee! (flashes back to Tohru being yeeted into the river). Is this a part of Akito’s god-like powers?!

Again. She’s got a point! They’ve both got a point. But, they’re both the source of the problem. It’s really painful to see two mentally ill people duke it out. This whole institution is just rotten.

- I am super curious about what Akira’s relationship was like with the zodiac and if it was just as dark. I’m gonna assume it slightly already was, as the exclusion and degradation of the cat curse is already dark in itself but maybe the rest of the zodiac were just fine with how things were? I dunno if we actually will get the full backstory of Akira and his zodiac but I’m definitely intrigued

Ok, but if four crying children came up to me after I’d just consummated with my partner to reach out at my stomach chanting ‘we’ve been waiting for you’. That would disturb me and scar me for a while too so... 😂. I know it’s supposed to be ethereal and spiritual but... dude, wtf lol

...I don’t like how much I’m into Ren being such a Villain™ 😅

- Akito being seen as a crying child by the older zodiac members has always been interesting to me because yes, they could see her as that through mainly the age gap, general empathy and the way she sometimes irrationally acts out. But, also the depiction of Gods being seen as children having tantrums has being reflected in many different beliefs and myths (especially Greek Mythology) and I just like the fact that this all powerful, all knowing being would be compared to a child. It gives you a different perspective on power.

- Is the paper note in the CD case that Kureno gave back to Tohru an extra addition or was it always there?...

Mannnn... I really wanted Isuzu to fuck shit up after seeing Tohru so upset but... *le sigh* (outfit’s still on point)

But, I’m so glad we get an equal Ethereal Goddess to save Tohru! HANAJIMA! We love her, we stan her. <3

- ‘Tohru will be in my custody’ 🤣 I personally think Hana’s bluntness was a kindness in her conversation with Yuki because if I found Tohru upset? I’d automatically start firing metaphorical shots at everyone in that house

- Shigure fearing Hana makes me sleep better at night <3

Hana’s just like ‘hmm... sounds like someone I know... 👀’ I’m here for this parallel between Tohru and Kureno in the hopes that Tohru doesn’t ever get in as bad a situation as Kureno. Ahhh... Kureno... (Also, Laura Bailey was killing it in this scene as always)

- Hmmm... there’s something terribly poetic about Kyo saving Tohru’s scarf from oncoming traffic... but also, Kyo can’t help himself aha

KWEEEN! I love this look for Uo, it’s very Kyoko. I already said this in Season 1 but I STILL need to get wool-lined jacket. Outfit Appreciation goes to her - 3.5 stars.

<3<3<3 Friendship is magic!

- Megumi is such a good egg as always! From him going to get Uo to him being so wise with his outlook on love and how it takes time to really flourish. The best!

- This whole episode ends really nicely from Tohru’s return home and Kyo washing and returning Tohru’s scarf and Yuki being happy to see Tohru and Shigure being somewhat decent. It was nice to get a bit of relief after the tornado of emotions

Also, this was a nice screencap! Even Kyo is smiling!!! :))))

EPISODE 2

*takes sip of wine* ...ok.

👀... later lol

This scene really highlighted how Tohru is starting to see Shigure and the whole zodiac curse in a new and darker way. For the first time, it felt like Tohru was a little bit more guarded around Shigure and I hope they delve more into this season. Her description of her feeling around the curse being like a ‘dark well with no bottom in sight’ is pretty spot on. Ugh.

Aw! Is this the last we’re getting of Small!Momiji?! I love them :3 (Momiji’s shorts look a little shorter too, like he’s growing out of them ahaha)

- I haven’t found the Yuki fan club funny since their first scene in the anime but their poor disguises made me chuckle

- Yayyy! Kyo has an obsessive fan club too? ...Yay?? 😅 haha

- ‘I won’t kill them but they can go to hell’ why is Kyo speaking like me?! 😂

The fact that we got a scene of Yuki kinda admirably looking at a group of friends (boys and girls) playfully physically interacting and he unconsciously reaches out to Machi almost like he forgot about the curse? Heart eyes... 🥰

Again. Relatable. 😂 God, Yuki. You really are an airhead. Bless your soul. <3

And that look says it all. Damn. Kyo’s sense of hopelessness is heartbreaking but I still stand by it being understandable considering his circumstances.

Kyo freaking out about Tohru being visually upset was super cute but I couldn’t even appreciate the fluff because the whole scene had such a morbid tone to it, despite it being so visually romantic:

KYO’S FACE!!! 💔 Ahhh, my emotions!!!! Also, that shot from Tohru’s perspective under her bangs is great.

- Poor Mitsuru, I’d ask for extra pay just for dealing with Shigure’s ass.

Hahah - what a great metaphor!

- Now that Shigure’s ‘true form’, so to speak, has been fully exposed all his comments that are supposed to be teasing come off so much more awful. Him insinuating Mitsuru wasn’t ‘upper class’ enough for Ritsu was awful

COLLLDDDD. AS. IIIIIIICE. But seriously, Shigure this whole episode was cold in many different ways but I definitely felt this personally since I’ve been told something like this by a family member before... 😕 Also, it’s just gross how both Shigure and Akito are taking their own personal issues and mistrust of each other out on to other people. The curse and the institution behind the curse complicates a lot of feelings for sure, but there’s a difference between wrong and right and I get the general feeling that they both are just using the muddy waters to their advantage. Although, I feel like Shigure is taking more advantage of this than Akito but I’ll get into that in a bit.

- There’s also something about this episode that made me sympathise a lot more with Kureno in a more understandable way. But, it also makes me question the ending of this whole story and the resolutions that happen and what life for the whole Sohma institution/family looks like after the curse has broken.. I guess, I should read ‘Fruits Basket Another’ after this, huh?

😳... Shigure is so petty, man. Really?!

So...

I hate this relationship. I’m sorry. I know there are loads of people who like this relationship. And I’m still giving myself space for the show and the story to convince me why it’s worth it. But... I really don’t like this relationship. It’s so toxic. In so many ways. And in a weird way, this scene made me feel a LITTLE bit more for Akito than Shigure. It feels like Shigure gaslights everyone in his life but none no more than Akito, herself. I hate the fact that he keeps saying he loves her while hurting her or disregarding her. You know, almost like he’s treating her like a child. But on the other hand, I hate the fact that Akito has lowkey gaslighted herself into thinking she can treat people however she wants because she is ‘God’. I understand this is part of the way she was brought up and it seems like life in the Sohma compound has been very isolating for her so there’s been no one really to show her better (or have the confidence to show her better). But, at least I can be a little bit more sympathetic on her side than Shigure’s. I dunno... it’s just all very ugly and toxic and I’m hoping that it’ll turn around somehow.

I just hope it’s not one of those relationships that are ‘so good cos it’s so bad’.

...I’ll briefly talk about the ending theme to end this on a good note lol:

I really like this ending! I dunno if they’re gonna have two endings and two openings for this season but this ending definitely feels like it should’ve gone in the second half as it’s almost spoiler-y? But, then again what anime opening and ending isn’t packed with spoilers lol

All the illustrations are gorgeous, I’m assuming they were drawn by Takaya-sensei herself as it seems very much in her current style of artistry but my favourite illustrations are definitely the ones shown above! <3

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

Ahhh! Fin! Sorry, about this one being super long and you probably having to scroll past a whole lot on your dash 😝 As usual, I had a lot to say. I’m open to hearing from people who actually like Shigure and Akito’s relationship btw, it’s just that everything before and episode 2 just really didn’t sail the ship for me, personally. I do want to understand! Haha

See you soooon!

#fruits basket #furuba #fruits basket season 3 #fruits basket 2021

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switchbrainedholylime · 4 years ago

Text

O, Canada

A small gift of Renga fic to @emmettspeakz

Reki laid on the floor awoken by the sun’s rays. He and Langa had just ended up having an impounti sleepover at his workshop since he stayed up until 3 in the morning fixing up their boards. The redhead looked over at Langa who muttered to himself in his sleep.

“Oui, j'aimerais le pain au chocolat (Yes, I’d like the chocolate croissant). Oui, l'école va bien (Yes, school’s fine)...Papa, quand nous reverrons-nous? (Father, when will we meet again?)...Adieu,” Langa opened his eyes only to see a very confused Reki. “What’s wrong?”

“You were just sayin’ some weird stuff in yer sleep.” Reki answered.

“Oh, was I talking in French again? Sorry, I grew up in a resort town between Quebec City and Montreal, where there’s a lot of French-speakers. I speak French, English, and Japanese.” Langa yawned, “Sometimes I speak another language in my sleep.”

“Really? That’s so cool.” Reki’s eyes glistened.

“My adopted dad Oliver-”

“Wait, wait, hold on. You’re adopted? Since when?” Reki’s glistening eyes turned to confusion.

“Yeah, haven’t you ever wondered why I don’t look like my parents?” Langa pointed to himself. “My biological dad gave me up to his two friends Oliver and my mom when I was...4? Yeah, that sounds right. He was really busy with work; he’s a UN representative for Canada and he felt it’d look bad on his part to have a bastard kid so he swept it under the rug. Though it might come out if I go through with Miya on competing in the Olympics in a few years.”

“That sucks, I had no idea...,” Reki sighed, “Who am I kiddin’? I’m practically in the same boat. My dad works at a black company. The old man gets maybe four hours of sleep a week if he’s lucky. I never want to end up like him, just tied to an office chair.”

“What do you want to do?” Langa asked.

“I don’t know. Skate, I guess.” Reki yawned.

“Yeah, but even skilled skaters like Cherry and Joe have day jobs. Hell, even Adam does and he runs the circuit.” Langa brought up.

“Man, don’t bring up that bastard’s name this early in the morning.” Reki groaned. “Besides, I got that job at the shop.”

“We both know that’s not gonna pay the bills,” Langa pointed out.

“True.” Reki sat up, “Our English teacher said the career survey’s due on Monday. Ugh, I still haven’t got a clue.”

“You’re pretty good with your hands and handling tools. You don’t want an office job, and I can’t blame you. Maybe technical school?” Langa suggested.

“Joe mentioned that last week. He said he’d be glad to write a letter of recommendation for the trade school he went to, but I don’t know if I’d like to work in a kitchen.” Reki looked over at his tools. “Maybe a handyman? I’d probably like fixin’ things up a whole lot more than I would be at my dad’s place. Just thinking about being a boring salaryman makes me wanna puke. Dad always looks so miserable, like someone just yanked his soul out of his chest.”

“So sort of what you looked like after skating with Adam?” Langa asked. “Except all of the time?”

“Please don’t say that bastard’s name. It’s too early in the morning.” Reki moaned and rubbed his eyes. “Or ever say it,”

Langa laughed lightly as Reki pouted. “Hey, I wasn’t joking!”

“I know.” Langa smiled and then planted a small kiss on Reki’s cheek. “My biological father and I meet up to have dinner once every six months. I only recently mentioned that I was dating you in a text and he told me he wants to meet you.”

“I’ll need to brush up on my English then.” Reki sighed.

“I’m sure Boyer-sensei will help.”

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

Their English teacher was a brunette American woman they called “Boyer-sensei”. She had a larger frame and was pale. She walked around collecting the career survey forms from her students. As usual, Reki was looking at his phone, texting with Langa about a new skate trick they saw on Instagram.

“Reki Kyan. Langa Hasegawa.” Boyer-sensei looked down at the redhead and blue-haired skaters. “Do you have the forms I passed out last week? The student council wants them to be collected by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Yeah,” The couple handed them to their English teacher.

Boyer-sensei was genuinely shocked. “You never have your homework done.”

“Are your standards really that low for us?” Langa appeared distraught.

“Yes, they are.” Boyer stated firmly as she read Reki’s list. “A repairman...construction worker...hold on, are you really Reki Kyan? You’re not an Auton, are you?”

“What’s an Auton?” Reki asked.

“It’s a monster from Dr. Who.” Langa explained. “They create replicas of humans. Do you not have Dr. Who available in Japan?”

Reki was quiet for an awkward moment. He wasn’t sure. “Well, I figured it was a weird nerd reference.”

“Anyway, Boyer-sensei, most skaters have day jobs. I’m NOT giving up skating anytime soon.” Reki grinned and winked over at Langa who smiled back.

“I guess that makes sense. I-I just never thought the day would come where you have a single brain cell or atom of responsibility in your veins.” Boyer-sensei was floored. “The world really is ending.”

------

A few weeks later, the day finally arrived where Reki would have to get into a decent pair of dress clothing for the first time since...ever. Cherry and Joe helped Reki pick out a traditional red yukata that didn’t feel trashy as his regular look but not so stuffy it made him visibly uncomfortable.

[SNOW (LANGA): Just got in his rental from the airport. I gave his coiffeur your address. We’re on our way.]

[REKI: Cool. Waiting outside.]

Reki stood at the edge of his driveway tapping his skateboard nervously. He tried to imagine what a fancy-ass version of Langa would look like in a suit with the UN logo.

A vintage red BMW pulled up. He instantly recognized Langa who was in a iron pressed dress shirt and khakis. The coiffeur was a local man he recognized as a regular at S and the shop, but he was silent the entire time.

Next to him was a man with Langa’s exact same hair, face, and height. The only difference the eye and hair color along with the fact that he wore glasses. He had blond hair and purple eyes. His dad didn’t look that old. He looked like he was in his early twenties. He was even more well-dressed than Langa and Reki combined. A satin beige suit, Italians handmade shoes, slightly wavy hair that smelled like fresh-brewed coffee.

Shadow looks older than this guy. Reki blinked, his face full of confusion. Did he say father or brother? Reki was almost positive Langa said father, but how young was he when he had him? Two?

Reki shook his head. Just don’t blow it, don’t sound like the moron you are in front of this fancy-dancy foreign guy.

“Hey, Langa! Got a fancier ride than usual?” Reki greeted them with a smile.

Langa blinked at his and the other man. “Yeah, you wanna get in.”

The moment Reki got in there was an awkward silence. Reki sat in the middle of the two Canadians. The redhead had a million questions but the air in the backseat was so thick.

“So you smell like coffee.” Renga stated as Langa shake his head. “That’s a good thing. I usually smell like sweat and Mountain Dew. I actually took a shower today and brushed my teeth.” Reki smiled brightly.

“Good, glad to know.” The diplomat smiled nervously. “My name’s Matthew Williams, PhD, Canadian UN diplomat.”

“I’m Reki Kyan...I like to skate. I work part-time at this skate shop with Langa. We’ve been dating for...I think four months.” The redhead explained.

“I’ve heard from Langa’s mother. Thanks for teaching Langa and being with him. So is there skate hotels you like to frequent?” Matthew asked.

“Does the hospital count?” Reki asked.

“I wouldn’t exactly give it five stars. Langa, has Japan been treating you well so far?” Matthew asked.

“Yeah, most people are pretty nice. There’s no Tim Hortons, but I’ve gotten addicted to Ramen. Still would love a donut every now and then.”

“That’s the place where they sell donuts instead of fries, right?” Reki looked over at his boyfriend.

“Yeah,” Langa replied.

“Man that sounds delicious!” Reki smiled.

“So Langa, your mother told me that you and Reki had a falling out a month ago because of this shady person called Adam.”

“Yeah, it was pretty bad.”

“You know I’ve made people...disappear before for ignoring me, causing me trouble, just being an obnoxious brat of a twin brother who tormented me since 1867 until I couldn’t take it anymore.” Matthew stated with a mixture of innocence and sinstery. “I could make this ‘Adam’ person disappear, too. I’ve made good friends with Russia since we used to share a border back when Alaska was part of the Soviet Union.”

“What do you mean ‘disappear’?” Reki’s eyes widened. “Wait, how old are you? You were around during the Cold War...that’s um, Langa?”

“Alaska was annexed by the US in the 1950s.” Langa stated.

“Right, I knew that.” Reki nodded. “Uh, so wouldn’t that make you seventy or something? Like my grandpa’s seventy-three and he’s got really bad teeth.”

“Reki, why don’t you tell him about your career survey?” Langa smiled.

“Oh, I’m planning on going to technical school.”

“That’s nice.”

There was an awkward silence between the trio.

“So...are you going to charge me anything for making Adam ‘disappear’? You’re not going to get in trouble for that, are you?” Reki asked.

“I have diplomatic immunity.” Matthew replied, “Laws don’t apply to me.”

“Well, I won’t lie it is tempting.” Reki bit his lip.

----------

1 week later

Reki, Langa, Miya, Shadow, and Cherry relaxed at Joe’s Italian restaurant as the TV played the noontime news.

“Politician Ainosuke Shindo has been found in his mansion dead since yesterday morning. It’s suspected that the killer used radioactive poison to taint his food. If you have any information, please contact the police.” The newswoman stood outside of Adam’s mansion that was taped off.

Everyone looked over at Reki and Langa.

“What?” They stared around at their fellow skaters.

#ooc #aph canada #canada #sk8 the infinity #renga #langa #reki kyan #cherry #joe #adam

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