#yes I’ve been trying to do that for several chapters but shut up it’s gonna work this time. it is.

[chicgeekgirl89]

Chapter 6 now available on AO3!

He’s going on a date. With Hottie Officer Carlos. Tomorrow. He’s equal parts thrilled and completely freaking out. 

They’ve texted daily, mostly inane and sometimes flirty things. T.K. would be lying if he said he wasn’t horny for the guy. Seeing him in uniform, the way his muscles had filled out the sleeves, his thighs…T.K. has woken up more than a few times from dreams where Carlos’ broad hands are caressing their way down his body.

But as he’s told his therapist several times, that is not the point of this date. Carlos seems like a genuinely good guy. The type of guy T.K.’s always hoped to be with, the type of guy he thought Alex was.

Alex. T.K. sighs and wonders how long the specter of his previous boyfriend is going to hang over him. He’d tried to get the guy out of his head when he’d first arrived in Austin. There had been some sex, one-night stands whose names he doesn’t remember, and when that hadn’t worked he’d turned to getting the shit kicked out of him in bars. His dad picking him from jail is not even in the top ten lowest moments of his life, but he still feels kind of shitty about it.

He’s been trying his hardest since then to turn things around. This date with Carlos…it feels like a second chance. A chance to be the kind of guy who deserves someone like Carlos Reyes. And he’s trying really hard not to self sabotage it like he usually does. 

Right now he’s having kind of a hard time telling the little voice in his head that reminds he’s not good enough to shut up.

“Why do you look like that?”

Judd settles into a chair across from him, leaning back and kicking his feet up. 

T.K.’s hand stills where it’s been combing anxiously through Buttercup’s fur. “Look like what?”

“Look like you just accidentally jumped in the pen with my Uncle Cash’s meanest bull,” Judd says. “Something on your mind?”

T.K. rubs Buttercup’s ear and considers how much to share. His therapist has been pushing him to open up more to the people around him. His team has proven time and again that they’re trustworthy, but it’s still hard to give the darker pieces of himself away.

“I have a date,” he says finally.

“Oh really?” Judd says, an interested look flashing across his face. “With that cop from your phone?”

“Yes,” T.K. says. “We’re getting coffee tomorrow. And I’m…”

“You’re nervous,” Judd says with a nod, like it’s a fact. “Good.”

“Good? How is that good?”

“Means it’s worth something to ya,” Judd tells him. “Means it matters. You want a hook up, you just jump on in without caring. You want something more, you’re gonna feel scared you’ll mess it up.”

That makes far too much sense for T.K.’s nerves. “What if I do mess it up?” he asks. “What if he doesn’t like me? We’ve only met once for like two minutes. What if all this texting and talking works through the phone but we sit there and stare at each other in silence for an hour?”

“T.K.,” Judd shifts and sits forward so he can look him squarely in the eye. “I’ve known you for a year, and not once in all those days have you been able to sit in silence for longer than three and a half seconds. You’ll find something to talk about.”

“Thanks?” T.K. says, unsure whether he should feel grateful or offended.

“You’ll be great,” Judd says. “You’re a catch. He should be grateful he gets to spend time with you.”

The room warms in T.K.’s vision, a rosy hue brightening up the dark thoughts in his mind. “You think so?” he asks tentatively.

“You’re a god damned dual certified firefighter paramedic,” Judd says, his voice strong. “And a member of the 126. That alone makes you a catch.” He points a finger at T.K. “Don’t you forget it.”

T.K. has never in his life thought of himself as a catch. He’s just…a toy to be played with. Something for people to enjoy and then be sent packing when they’re tired of him. Judd’s words do something to him that he can’t quite pinpoint, but it feels like a small part of him heals.

Then the alarm sounds and they’re both on their feet, running to the truck. As T.K. buckles into his seat he realizes that he feels…good. It feels like light is dawning on him for the first time in so long. Like those moments when you can’t really see the sunrise yet, but you can feel that it’s coming soon.

They pull up to the fire within minutes and it looks terrible. Flames shoot from windows and out of the roof, smoke filling the early evening air as people flee from inside into the waiting arms of first responders. 

T.K.’s heart does a weird lurch as he spots APD on the scene even though he knows Carlos is off tonight. They haven’t even been on a single date and he’s already getting butterflies over the guy. It’s ridiculous.

“Stay alert,” his dad is telling them all as they pull up to the scene. “Two in, two out. This place is going to be unstable. Stick with your partner and if anything seems off get out first and ask questions later.”

“Yes Cap,” they all chorus before jumping out and donning their tanks and masks.

Inside things are hot and dark. The fire is quickly sucking out any air left in the building and the smoke is billowing in thick, black clouds that make it nearly impossible to see. He’s paired up with Marjan and they’re both struggling to make it even a few feet down the narrow hallways. 

They manage one rescue, a guy who’s leg is definitely broken, and it’s a relief when they carry him back outside. T.K. pulls off his mask and takes a couple gulps of clean air after they pass the guy off to medical.

“Ready to go again?” Marjan asks. 

T.K. nods, replacing his mask and following her toward the door. But before they can head inside there’s a loud rumble and the earth shakes a little under their feet. “Whoa, what was that?” Marjan asks.

“Mayday mayday! Firefighter down!”

Mateo’s voice comes shouting over their radios and T.K.’s heart plummets into his boots. Marjan turns to him, eyes wide. “Isn’t Mateo with—“

“My dad,” T.K. says. Without a second thought he’s through the door. 

“T.K.! T.K. wait!” Marjan yells after him.

He can hear her behind him, trying to keep up. “Mateo where are you?” he asks.

“Southeast side,” Mateo says. “He’s unconscious, I can’t wake him up!”

“We’re on our way,” T.K. says, taking the first left he comes to. 

“Us too,” Judd says from wherever he and Paul are.

It’s only minutes but it feels like days before T.K. hears the screaming of a PASS alarm. They take a final turn and find Mateo kneeling on the floor next to his dad’s prone form. “What happened?” T.K. asks.

“Beam came down from the ceiling. Took him down hard,” Mateo says. “He hasn’t woken up since.” He looks like he’s just barely restraining himself from full blown panic. 

T.K. can relate.

“Dad,” T.K. shakes his shoulder but gets no response and the fear he’s been keeping at bay comes screaming to the surface. “Dad! Come on! Wake up!”

“Hey!”

Judd and Paul join the group. “We need to get him out of here,” Judd says. “This whole place is gonna come down on top of us any second.”

“He could have a spinal injury,” T.K. protests.

“Better injured than dead,” Paul says. “Come on. Let’s go!”

T.K. reaches under one of his dad’s arms while Judd gets under his other side. The way his dad’s head droops as they move makes T.K. sick to his stomach. He’s so terrified he can hardly breathe, air coming in and out of his lungs in tight bursts. 

It feels like forever before they escape the heat and the dark, but finally there it is, the outside world, still waiting for them. 

They drop his dad onto a gurney and Nancy and Tim swarm in along with Michael, their acting captain for the day, pulling off his turnouts and helmet. His dad lets out a groan of pain that makes T.K.’s knees go weak with a combination of relief and sympathy. 

“What happened?” his dad asks as his eyes blink open, squinting against the fading daylight.

“Beam took you down Cap,” Mateo says. “Hit you right in the head.”

His dad groans again and closes his eyes. “Yep, that’s what it feels like.”

T.K. rides with him in the back of the ambulance and then follows the gurney into the ER. He talks to the doctors, tells them about the medication his dad is on for his cancer treatments, and all of his supplements. He calls his mom in New York then sits with his teammates in the waiting room while his dad is taken for tests and scans.

It’s not the worst trip to the ER he’s ever experienced, but it’s not great either. His anxiety is through the roof. This is the second time in just about a year his dad has said a passing hello to death and it’s doing nothing to help his anxiety. The world has faded out to grey again, black and white, like the scuffed tiles of the hospital floor. His skin is itching with the urge to run away from it all, but the desire to stay is currently winning the fight. Yay therapy. 

He chews anxiously on a fingernail, hunched over with his elbows on his knees. He stripped off his turnout coat a while ago, but his pants are still sitting uncomfortably stiff on his legs. There’s a char mark on his left thigh from a stray cinder on some call he doesn’t remember. He closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to look at it.

When the doctor finally comes out the news is about as okay as it can be for an injured firefighter. His dad has a concussion and a couple broken ribs. They’re a little extra concerned about the ribs because of the lung cancer and the propensity for pneumonia. They’re keeping him overnight for observation and he’s not happy about it. But overall he’s going to be fine.

Paul drives T.K. home where he falls face first into bed without even showering. He’s exhausted from the stress of everything and it’s only when he wakes up in the morning that he remembers his date with Carlos. Fuck. He has to cancel. 

Anxiety curdles in his stomach. Carlos is going to think he’s that guy. The one who claims a family emergency even though they both know he’s really just flaking out on the date. T.K. has been on both sides of that text on more than one occasion, but he doesn’t want to be that guy this time. He’s been trying so hard not to fuck this up, and he can’t stand the thought of it all crashing down because he’s finally choosing to be responsible.

He stares at the ceiling and sighs. There’s no help for it. Even if he gets his dad home in time today, he can’t leave him alone. The guy will be out trying to rescue a kitten from a tree or help a neighbor move a couch less than twenty minutes after T.K. is out the door. 

T.K.

[7:32am] Hey I’m so sorry, I have to cancel today.

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[7:33am] Everything okay?

T.K.

[7:34am] My dad is in the hospital. Hurt on a call last night.

His phone begins buzzing almost immediately, the sight of Carlos’ pecs lighting up his screen. He’d forgotten that he’d set Carlos’ contact photo like that and he barks out a startled laugh. “Hello?” his voice comes out croaky and he swallows hard to try and clear it.

“Are you okay?” Carlos asks immediately. “Is your dad okay?”

“Yeah.” T.K. pushes himself into a sitting position and rubs a hand over his face. “Yeah we’re both okay. He has a concussion and some broken ribs. They kept him overnight so I have to go pick him up in a little bit.”

“God I’m so sorry,” Carlos says, sounding one hundred percent sympathetic without an ounce of suspicion or annoyance. “Is there anything I can do? Anything you need? My mom makes soup that she swears will heal anything.”

T.K. closes his eyes, surprised that he can feel tears welling up. Carlos’ immediate response is to offer to provide comfort for him and his dad. It’s so wildly surprising and different from any guy he’s ever dated that the words have gone straight to his tear ducts. “No, I think we’re okay. Thanks though,” he manages around the thickness in his throat. “I’m um, I’m really sorry about our date.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Carlos says. “We’ll reschedule. Take care of your dad. And yourself.”

“Thanks,” T.K. says. “I’ll text you, okay?”

“Just worry about your family,” Carlos says. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

They hang up and T.K. takes a long minute to replay the conversation in his mind. Carlos hadn’t sounded mad or annoyed. He hadn’t even sounded disappointed. Just genuinely concerned. 

T.K.’s not quite sure what to do with that, so he shelves it to examine later and forces himself into the shower. 

His dad is his usual self when T.K. gets to the hospital. All the nurses are in love with him; the Strand charm effect is strong. He’s definitely in pain though and trying to hide it as T.K. helps him into the car and then onto the sofa at home. 

“Are you going to sit there all afternoon staring at me?” his dad asks an hour later. 

“I’m not staring at you. I’m studying for my EMT recertification exam,” T.K. says, holding up the manual as evidence

“I’m okay son,” Owen says, that soft, dad look on his face; the one that says he’s more concerned about how T.K. is feeling than himself. “I’m glued to this couch. You can go hang out with your friends or take Buttercup for a walk.”

Buttercup lifts his head up at the sound of his name and then drops it glumly back to the floor when it’s clear nobody is actually going to take him outside. 

“I’m staying right here,” T.K. tells him. “I know you think you won’t get off that couch and overdo it, but the second you get too bored you’re going to be trying to throw together a soufflé or check the oil in the car.”

Owen blinks at him. “First of all, you don’t ‘throw together’ a soufflé. It’s a delicate process that requires hours of concentration and impeccable timing. And secondly, I had the oil changed on the car last week.”

“Still not leaving,” T.K. says without looking up from the manual. 

The doorbell rings and Buttercup heaves himself to his feet, tail wagging as he wanders toward the front door. “Are we expecting anybody?” T.K. asks as he gets up. 

“Could be Judd,” his dad says. “He mentioned last night that he and Grace might swing by.”

“Maybe it’s Nurse Judy from the hospital,” T.K. teases. “I saw her eyeing you up this morning.”

“I can’t help it that my shoulders are accentuated by the shape and contour of a hospital gown!” his dad calls after him.

T.K. snorts and shuffles Buttercup out of the way so he can open the door. The person on the other side is not Judd or Grace or Nurse Judy, but rather a redheaded college age kid wearing a black baseball cap. “Hi, I have a delivery for T.J.,” he says, holding out a cardboard coffee carrier.

“Oh.” T.K.’s brow furrows. “I don’t think we ordered anything.”

The kid checks his phone. “You’re T.J. Strand?”

“T.K.”

The kid shrugs. “Close enough. This is for you. Have a good day.”

He practically shoves the carrier into T.K.’s hands and then heads back to his car.

T.K. carries it into the kitchen. “Who was it?” his dad asks, craning his neck to try and see what T.K. is doing.

“Door Dash,” T.K. says. 

There’s a green smoothie and a latte in the carrier along with a folded up piece of paper. He unfolds it and his heart stops inside his chest.

Latte is for you. Smoothie is for your dad. Not quite my mom’s soup but hopefully it helps. -Carlos

Carlos remembered his coffee order. Not only that, he remembered that T.K.’s dad prefers green juices and other organic products. That had been one conversation weeks ago while Carlos was on a lunch break in the middle of his shift. 

One text and Carlos remembered.

Oh.

The room around him brightens, the weight in his soul that belongs to the last twenty-four hours lifting off and dissipating into nothing. 

“T.K.? What’s going on over there?” his dad calls.

T.K. lifts out both drinks, carrying them into the living room and setting them on coasters. “Someone sent us drinks.”

“Someone?” His dad arches and eyebrow and then winces. “Someone like…the hot cop who lives in your phone that you were supposed to go on a date with today?”

T.K. narrows his eyes. “Did Judd rat me out to you? Because that’s really not cool.”

“Judd didn’t rat you out,” Owen says. “Sound carries in the fire station. And also I know you. You’ve been all moony eyed and nervous this week. It’s how you always get before a first date.”

“I do not!”

“Um yeah, you do,” Owen says. “You know, you can still go on your date. I’ll be fine here by myself.”

“Like I said before, I’m not leaving,” T.K. says. “I already cancelled. He was very understanding. As evidenced by the drinks.” He gestures to where he’s placed them on the coffee table.

Something odd and soft passes over his dad’s face. “Good. He should be.” He picks up his drink and takes a sip. “Ooh! Flax seed. Tell the hot cop I said thank you.”

T.K. sips his own as he pulls out his phone.

T.K.

[12:16pm] Thank you for the drinks. You didn’t have to do that.

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[12:18pm] You’re welcome. Not quite the coffee date we were hoping for, but hopefully it will do for today.

T.K.

[12:19pm] You’re really sweet. And again, I’m super sorry about the date.

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[12:20pm] Stop apologizing. Family comes first. How’s your dad?

T.K.

[12:21pm] Already testing the boundaries of his convalescence. And my patience. But he’s fine. Meds are taking care of the pain. 

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[12:22pm] Good. Are you doing okay? That must have been scary to see your dad like that.

T.K. looks over at where his dad has drifted off to sleep, his mouth hanging slightly open. The pain and fear of possibly losing him burns brightly in his chest for a moment and he lets it fill him up before breathing it out again. His dad is okay. They’re both okay this time. 

His phone buzzes again.

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[12:26pm] You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I didn’t mean to cross a line.

T.K.

[12:27pm] No, it’s okay. It was scary. He was unconscious for a long time. And after the cancer last year, I’m still kind of panicky about him. But he’ll be all right. He’s been through worse. We both have.

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[12:28pm] Feel free to call or text anytime if you need to. 

T.K.

[12:29pm] You might regret that. He’s going to be a pain in the ass for the next couple weeks. You may end up having to come investigate his murder because I’m not sure I can handle it.

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[12:30pm] Haha aren’t firefighters supposed to be tough as nails? You can run into burning buildings but you can’t handle your dad?

T.K.

[12:31pm] We WALK into burning buildings thank you very much. And you haven’t met my dad. He can whine like a toddler being denied ice cream. It’s unreal. We may need to reschedule our date just so I don’t lose my mind.

Officer Hottie- Carlos

[12:32pm] Tuesday?

T.K. thinks for a second. His dad should be well on the road to recovery by then. And he’s not scheduled to work again until Wednesday.

T.K.

[12:32pm] Tuesday could work.

[apex-academy]

Chapter 6: The Decay of Our Lives (#11a)

I wind my way back to the file cabinet without any interlopers.

“All right...”

Got a while before I need to worry about the movie night. I’ll try and keep track of time, though. Might be a little awkward to explain what I was doing if I show up late. 

I take the key out of my pocket and unlock the cabinet with about as much fanfare as any other time.

“I was at... Kokoro?”

That was drawer three, right?

If I’m actually reading it this time. Really shouldn’t skip what little info I do have here just because it hurts to think about. Just gonna have to grin and bear it.

I sigh and yank the appropriate drawer open.

“—!”

It’s completely empty, the little rails along the ends hanging like the last pieces of a skeleton picked clean.

This—This is the right file cabinet, right? I try the other drawers, but they’re empty, too. Aside from the bottom one, which still won’t open. This is the file cabinet, all right.

“...........”

Did I leave it unlocked? No, I’m sure I had to actually use the key just now. Haven’t left the key lying around anywhere, either. There could easily be other copies, but I found this after Monochap dropped it. Meaning...

The young master almost has to be the one responsible. But why?

“Was I onto something?”

I’ve come here to check several times, though. Surely they would have noticed earlier? Or are they too busy with something else to keep track? When there are so few of us to keep tabs on now? Hard to believe.

“Then why did this happen now?”

There must be some angle I’m missing. Maybe I can talk it over with Aidan? But he’s busy with the movie night now, and the last thing I need to do is spoil what little morale we can muster with that.

With a sigh, I open and close the middle drawer a few times, just in case this is some bizarre trick of the eye. But it stays empty.

“Is something wrong?”

“Gack!”

I slam the drawer shut, attempting to hide it behind my back as I turn. Once again, remind me to not murder anyone because boy I will never get away with it.

“Monochap?”

Hovering within a reasonable speaking distance, he nods.

“Your very own mutual killing game chaperone, that’s me!”

“But, um... Is something wrong?”

“Your existence in general, sure.”

“.......”

“Why don’t you tell me if something’s wrong? You came here for a reason, didn’t you?”

“D-did I?”

“Yes.”

“........”

“I was just, um, checking...!”

“Checking what?”

“.........”

I duck around him a bit, but if he’s taken any files, he doesn’t have his briefcase to stow them in. Heck if I know how much storage he’s got in the rest of him, though.

I pull back.

“Checking for someone in here?”

“Maybe...?”

“Well, I’m here. And I’m not breaking any rules.”

“Uh-huh...”

“...”

“...”

“Okay, move it. I’m leaving.”

“O-oh! Um, you don’t have to go on my account...!”

“Well, I am.”

I march straight for the door, robots in the way or otherwise.

“Eep!”

He dodges, and I continue into the hall. As if what I’ve been looking for is out here, not in there.

“Or, I guess it is now.”

Monochap doesn’t try to stop me, but I keep moving, anyway. No point hanging around where there’s nothing left to look at.

I’ve got better things to do today.

[BACK]

[spiced-koi-friend]

Close Encounters

Gabriel infiltrates your office, but it doesn't go exactly how he planned. Also, he may need to buy his own suit at some point.

Previous Chapter

Assassin!Goldbullet x Politician!F!Reader, TW: weapons Words: 2287 | Rating: R | AO3

You’ve been laying low since the assassination attempt last night, especially since your security wasn’t able to find the would-be hitman. At the insistence of your therapist, you’ve been surrounded by several bodyguards and several are being hired for this exact purpose. Maybe you shouldn’t be bringing on more people as someone just tried to kill you, but your secretary is doing a very thorough vetting process through all the applicants. Short of the FBI personally doing a cavity search on all of them, any other test possible is being run. 

Ruze has not left your side, nearly growling at a member of staff that came in without an appointment. Sure, you nearly died, but the growling is a bit unnecessary. He has been the one to shut all the curtains, plant security guards at every possible post, and is even forcing you to wear a bulletproof vest as you try to work. 

“Ruze, this is ridiculous. I look ridiculous.”

“You can complain all you want when it stops you from getting shot. Until then, you’re welcome.”

You punch his arm with a groan, burying your face in one of your hands.

“I don’t even know why I came into work. Shouldn’t I be like, staying home or something?”

“Gotta show whoever tried to kill you that you’re not intimidated by them, and life will carry on as normal. Show ‘em you’re a big, strong, independent woman or some shit.”

“Great pep talk, Ruze.”

“You’re welcome. Everyone knows that’s why you keep me around.”

His sarcasm makes you chuckle a little bit, although your attention is drawn elsewhere at your secretary coming in.

“The beefcakes are ready for inspection.”

“The what now!?”

“You think I’ve been selecting beanpoles like me? I can’t protect for shit, there’s no way any of them could do any better. Hence, beefcakes.”

“I- why couldn’t you just say the new bodyguards are here?”

“This was more fun.”

Bettel grins at you before dipping out, and five new recruits enter your office. A couple catch your eye immediately, but they all seem to fit the profile Ruze instructed for Bettel to look for. Your head of security rounds your desk, pacing in front of them military style.

“Alright nerds, we got some small-brained maggot shit stain that thinks it’s funny to take sniper shots at our mayor here, and I’m not laughing. You were hired for your skills, and several of you will be working very close to her. While you will be protected with proper gear, it is expected that you intercept any attacks so they don’t hit her. Am I understood?”

All you can do is shake your head and grin at how ridiculous Ruze is acting about this. He gets a few “yes sir”s and seems satisfied with this debriefing. Ruze eyes a few of them, getting in a little closer.

“Ruze, if you can smell what they had for breakfast, you’re too close.”

“Maybe I want to. Plus, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, or whatever they teach you on Sesame Street.”

The humor seems to diffuse the tension in the room, and you see the recruits relax a little bit as Ruze cackles. One of them catches your eye though, dressed up in a dark green suit. He’s definitely pretty, but a glint in his eye makes you think he’s far more dangerous than he’s letting on. Perfect to accompany you and Ruze as a more personal bodyguard.

You relay your intentions to Ruze, and he sends the others to their posts, leaving the three of you in the room together.

…

Well shit. Gabriel wasn’t expecting for him to get this close, but now his acting skills are gonna have to come in clutch. 

“You’ll be having a trial run as a personal bodyguard. Gotta name?”

“Uh, Gabriel. Although professionally I’ve been called “Goldbullet”. Whichever works, I suppose.”

“Alright Goldie, I hope you know your shit. Go down to the locker room and get on something less stiff than that suit you’re wearing. You look like you're suffocating in it.”

Admittedly it is a bit tight, but that’s the consequences of renting a suit and not having one personally tailored. He nods, leaving the room to locate the locker room. The secretary is sitting at his desk, filing his nails while on the phone. 

“I’m not saying that you need to feed him a burrito, I’m just saying that if Phantom isn’t eating the dog food, I have some extra Taco Bell in the fridge!”

“Umm, excuse me?”

“Hold on Twobert, I need to call you back- how can I attempt to assist you?”

“Attempt…?”

“I make no promises, I am only one man, and I’m barely surviving as it is.”

“I see… Can you point me in the direction of the locker room?”

“Congratulations! You found something I can help you with. You’re gonna wanna go down that left hallway, and there’s a sign above the door on the right.”

“Uh, thanks.”

Gabriel can’t help but laugh at the secretary resuming his call, presumably getting scolded for feeding his dog Taco Bell. To each their own, he supposes. 

The locker room is mostly quiet, spare the occasional chatter of the other men getting into the provided uniform. Compression shirt, bullet proof vest, jacket, and black cargo pants. 

“Hey, nice suit.”

“Oh, thanks. Unfortunately it’s a rental, and doesn't fit quite right.”

“I mean, I don’t think anyone would complain about it being a little tight.”

His coworker gives him a wink and Gabriel just laughs, a bit in disbelief at how forward he was. He just smirks, getting his shirt on and placing his feather necklace over top again. The pants are a bit big in the waist, but he just takes one of the holster belts to help keep them up. 

“I guess I should’ve sent in my measurements.”

“Eh, I think they just guessed for all of us. Although it’s clear they were looking for a particular type. I think it’s a bit funny though, this is usually more coverage than I typically wear.”

A different coworker adjusts his ponytail, holding a clip between his teeth.

“This is about what I wear. I’m Gabriel, by the way.”

“Shinri, pleasure to meet you. Good to see someone else who looks like they know what they’re doing. That head security guard, he’s definitely something.”

“I wouldn’t be intimidated, obviously his bark matches his bite, but he seems to enjoy joking around quite a bit.”

“Oh I’m not worried. Luckily he seems to only pick on people his own size.”

“Have you seen that secretary? Part of me wonders how he has this job. Bit of a mess.”

Shinri chuckles, securing his hair in place.

“When the rest of us came out of the mayor’s office, he said, and I quote “get your sexy bodies into that locker room”. A bit forward, but got a laugh out of all of us.”

Gabriel laughs, almost forgetting why he’s here. 

“Glad to see that no one takes themselves too seriously. Well, I think we have a mayor to protect.”

“I’ll see you around?”

“I hope so.”

Gabriel grabs a pistol and a baseball cap, tucking his bangs underneath it. Part of him is grateful no one saw him last night, because this isn’t too far from what he was wearing during the assassination attempt. He enters the office again, greeted with a smirk from Ruze. 

“Looking way better there, Goldie. Why don’t you escort our mayor to her car and accompany her to her lunch break? Get a little familiar with each other.”

…

Fucking bastard. Picked up almost immediately on the fact you think Gabriel is pretty, and threatened to spill your secret. Instead he’s sending the two of you on a “date”, claiming he needs to check on the other new hires. Gabriel looks almost as shocked as you are, but nods and offers his arm to you as you walk around your desk. You manage to get a glare at Ruze, who is simply looking smug as you walk out of your office, heading towards your car. 

“So… have you been in the bodyguard business for a long time?”

“Me? No, mostly just contract protections, short term stuff. Used to be a part of an agency, but quit to go solo when there were some, creative differences.”

“Creative differences in a bodyguard company? How does that come around?”

“They wanted us to be armed in a certain way, only using certain ways to protect ourselves or our targets. I think you should do whatever is necessary to get the job done, and they didn’t necessarily agree. So I left.”

“Well, I’m glad that you’re that dedicated to keep me safe, although I hope it doesn’t come to that level of extremes.”

“I hope so too.”

He opens the door for you, allowing you to get into the back of the SUV first before he joins in beside you. You both nervously fidget, him with the feather chain around his neck, yourself with your bracelet. The silence is deafening, nearly drowning out the sound of the tires on the road. Your driver takes you down to a small plaza downtown, letting the two of you out before heading off in a different direction for a smoke break. Gabriel offers you his arm again, which you cautiously take. He walks a bit slower, allowing you to keep pace with him as the two of you look at the various restaurants.

“Do you usually go out to lunch? Especially with new bodyguards?”

“Ruze wanted me to get out of my office, making public appearances shows I’m “not afraid of anything”, which is bullshit. I was shot at last night, of course I’m fucking terrified.”

“I mean, you’re already doing pretty well all things considered. Far stronger than your average person would be in this situation.”

“I… appreciate that.”

The smile he gives you is soft, beaming at you as he almost runs into a pole. You tug him out of the way at the last second.

“Oops, thanks. I promise I’m usually more observant.”

“No problem, Goldie. You’re alright with me calling you that, right?”

“Yes ma’am, it’s at least better than when Ruze called me it.”

“Oh you get used to him, he’s just a bastard.”

“I got that impression.”

The two of you laugh, and he pulls you into a small chicken shop. The little old lady waves the two of you in, gesturing for a table for the two of you. Gabriel pulls the chair out for you, making you sit against the wall while he sits between you and the door.

“You like chicken fingies?”

“Can’t go wrong with those.”

Your lunch date is cute, laughing over your plates of chicken fingers and stealing some of his fries. He tries to scold you, but his smile deceives him and just makes him laugh even harder. After he pays, the two of you walk around the plaza while the weather is still nice, and you’re waiting for your driver to come back.

…

This has to be a setup, there’s no way it’s this easy. He keeps checking the tops of buildings and deep into alleys, expecting that the other guys he met in the locker room are gonna jump him and arrest him for what he tried to do. But no one ever comes around, even the driver left the two of you alone. It’d be so easy to just take the pistol in his holster and kill you right now, so what is stopping him? You smile at him differently than you do with anyone else, hugging his arm a bit tighter than he was expecting.

He cracked so many jokes over lunch, there’s no way you were just laughing to be polite. The way you hold your sides from giggling too hard, it’s adorable. He’s now leaning against the car with you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders to partially shield you. His eyes are never taken off the environment, thankfully you’re in no danger. He’d never admit that he likes holding you a little bit closer, but he’s so nervous that this is all a setup that he can’t really enjoy it. 

“Gabriel? You okay?”

He looks down at you in shock, a bit startled out of his concentration.

“Me? Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Just doing the job I was paid to do.”

“The driver’s back, we can get in, but you need to move so he can get in the driver’s seat.”

The grizzled old man glares at him, giving a sheepish smile back.

“Sorry, just gotta keep her safe.”

“Yeah yeah, you two lovebirds get in the backseat, I don’t wanna see any of that PDA.”

The two of you let out different indignant noises, making the old man just laugh as he unlocks the car.

“Alright, let’s get the two of you back to work. Can’t be smooching on company time.”

You huff as Gabriel lets the two of you into the backseat again, He silently curses the old man, as you’re now avoiding his touch. Just going back to fidgeting with his necklace, The drive feels painfully long, still doing his best to be a gentleman when you arrive back at the office together.

“I’m gonna… I’ll be right back.”

Gabriel excuses himself as you enter your office again, closing your door quietly before going to the bathroom to splash some water on his face. What is wrong with him? He just has to kill you, that’s all the job entails.

… “So how was your date~?”

“Ruze, I’m gonna kill you.”

“You’re welcome!”

[unfortunatelyilikebnha]

Liveblogging 303 lol!! Spoilers obviously (I’m also tagging that)

Hawks butting into the Todoroki family drama feels so...idk jarring? Like I knew it was gonna happen but idk the tone is weird and ik he’s trying to do his normal “in the no 2 hero & kinda an obnoxious bastard” persona thing but ugh

Is hawks speaking through voice to text on his phone???

Best jeanist is lowkey annoying ngl...and this part is nothing against him as a character but I kinda wish he’d actually stayed dead...would’ve been more interesting for the story I think

BITCH JUST ASKED HIM STRAIGHT UP???? IF TODOROKIS BURN WAS ALSO HIS FAULT???? HOLY SHIT????

“That was me” 😬😬😬

HPSC dead 🥰🥰🥰

Ughhhhhhhhh I’m tired of people supporting end**v*r yes ik he’s trying to be better but that’s on him!!! I very much hate the tone the manga takes with him like I’m not even saying he can’t get better (even tho it seems unlikely after 20+ years) but it seems like every chapter tries to make him more retroactively “sympathetic” and everyone covers for him...like how Natsuo’s making a temporary truce w/ Endvore (???) to help Touya, completely ignoring his own feelings in the process and yeah that’s very selfless of him and I’m not saying I think it’s ooc but he shouldn’t have to put aside his own feelings and work with his abuser especially when he clearly doesn’t want to!

Oh?????? If Hawks & Jeanist & (ugh 🤢) Endvore get to know about OFA (and wtf about that, at this point he might as well just tell everyone smh), does that mean Shouto gets to know too??? PLSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS like ik he probably doesn’t need another reveal dumped on him but also I DESPERATELY want him to know about OFA so Midoriya can finally have some goddamn FRIENDS in on his secret (plus they both have quirks w/ multiple functions so like!!! They could train together!!! It makes SENSE PLS!!!!!)

FUYUMI PANELS FUYUMI PANELS FUYUMI PANELS FUY-

UGHHHHHHH THIS BITCH AGAIN (Uraraka: “he’s noisier than ever, huh?” yeah. Sigh. Tell it like it is tho lol)

Also wait the woman in that first panel w/ Uraraka and Iida isnt Inko with a different hairstyle, is it??? I can’t tell, and if not where is she??? You can’t tell me she wouldn’t be at that hospital, so if that’s not her, where is she?

Uraraka looks SO cute in that panel tho I care her. I may not like Horikoshi but he’s been giving us some PHENOMENAL Urarakas lately... And Iida! Ik he wasn’t seriously injured but even so I’m so glad to see he’s ok!! And omg JIROU PANELS!!!!!!! She’s so cute!!!! And she says Tokoyami and Kaminari r ok so that’s good!! (What about Tamaki and Nejire tho. R they ok 🥺 has someone confirmed that they’re ok 🥺 pls I love them)

FINALLY MY BOY APPEARS. MIDORIYAAAAAAA I MISSED YOU SM 😭😭😭😭😭 YES ITS JUST ONE PANEL BUT I MISSED HIM OK.

[frogtanii]

iwaizumi was... overwhelmed, to say the least.

the past few days had been such a whirlwind of change that hajime could barely properly process, much less appropriately react to it all, so he behaved much like a zombie, saying yes when prompted, signing papers when told, and packing up what was his entire life for the past 11 months.

wow. iwaizumi collapsed on his bed as he scanned his now barren bedroom. he’d been here for almost a year and yet, all his belongings were in boxes within a couple of days.

hajime couldn’t keep the disbelieving chuckle from escaping his chest as he leaned back on his bed, dark brown eyes trained on the ceiling.

it felt like he’d spent such a large chunk of his life trapped in this house, under the foot of the woman who he thought he’d marry but in reality, he’d been in little leagues longer than he’d been in love.

iwaizumi scoffed and rolled his eyes. yeah, “in love”. it’d been about a week since his whole life started to unravel and he had hardly seen, let alone spoken to meiko throughout that entire time.

over text, she’d sworn up and down that she loved and cared about him but as she passed by him packing his things a few days ago, she’d barely spared him a second glance.

hajime wasn’t going to lie. it hurt. he’d opened his heart up to her, something he didn’t do easily, and she’d taken his trust and used it to twist him into her weapon.

he always believed he was stronger than this — he’d never forget his mother telling him so when he was younger. he had fallen and scraped his knee yet he refused to cry to keep from upsetting his mom. iwaizumi existed to live up to what his mother thought of him but here he was, completely enveloped in meiko’s shit, doing her dirty work and following her bidding like some mutt.

god, toorū was right. he really was her bitch.

“i could hear you thinking from down the hall, iwa-chan.” speak of the devil...

oikawa stood at his doorway, leaning against the frame with a posture that seemed relaxed at first glance but if you looked a little closer, you’d notice the tenseness in his shoulders and the tightness of his smile.

hajime quickly sat up on his bed before motioning for his old friend to enter. “uh, yeah,” he began, his voice cracking a little from disuse, “i have a lot to think about.”

the light haired brunette let out an understanding hum before wandering into the room, sharp observant eyes darting to look at all the empty walls. “looks like you’re all packed.”

“pretty much,” iwaizumi nodded before the room fell into an awkward silence, the two childhood friends completely avoiding one another’s eyes.

“look, i-“

“iwa-chan, i’m-“

they both paused for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound carrying into the hall and throughout the house.

hajime wiped a few stray tears from his eyes, shaking his head at their awkwardness. “you first, shittykawa.”

toorū gasped in halfhearted mock offense before quickly sobering up, training iwaizumi with a completely serious look. “i’m sorry and before you go on some bullshit, self sacrificing rant, you’re not the only one to blame for what happened to our friendship.”

he sighed while making his way to iwaizumi’s bed, sitting down gently beside him. “i should’ve known better, okay? i shouldn’t have let my jealousy and insecurities get in between us but i guess i got swept up in the attention, yknow? meiko is actually charming when she wants to be.”

iwaizumi nodded in agreement, knowing all too well how compelling meiko could be. the room fell into a more comfortable silence as both boys escaped into their thoughts, questions about the future of their friendship flitting throughout their minds.

“oh!” oikawa was pulled out of his own head at hajime’s exclamation, his eyes moving to observe his friend dig through his pockets to procure a thick white envelope. “here. i’d like you to give this yn.”

all toorū could do was nod, his brain short circuiting at the sight of iwaizumi’s apparent kindness to the woman he tormented for so long. “uh, what’s in it?” he ventured to ask, his soft hands toying with the sealed envelope flap.

a soft chuckle came from across the bed. “don’t be so nosy toorū, just give it to her, yeah?” oikawa rolled his eyes but obliged, the bed creaking as he stood to his feet.

“so... this is it, huh?” it was like the reality of the situation was just now sinking in — they hadn’t been close in a while but iwaizumi was still his best friend and he wasn’t quite ready to let him go.

they’d been through so much together, practically growing up together and now, they’d only see each other on holidays, if even then, and then he’d never be invited to hajime’s wedding as his best man as they’d planned and he also wouldn’t be the coolest uncle/godfather of iwa’s children and—

“fuck no,” hajime scoffed with a bright grin on his face. “thought you were gonna annoy me til the end of time shittykawa. don’t tell me you’re quitting your job now.”

the hidden meaning behind iwaizumi’s words brought tears to oikawa’s eyes and before he could stop himself, he launched his body into iwa’s arms. hajime hesitated, his hands stuttering at toorū’s sides as though he’d forgotten how to hug but the feeling passed, his arms winding around his friend’s lithe waist.

“‘m gonna miss you hajime,” oikawa’s voice came out as a broken whimper, his arms tightening around his shoulders.

iwaizumi hummed instead of responding, too afraid of his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. they stood there for a moment but the honk of the moving truck outside signaled the both of them of their limited time.

hurriedly, oikawa wiped the tears off his cheeks before waving awkwardly at iwaizumi as he left the room with a friendly, “don’t be a stranger.”

and then he was gone.

toorū finally allowed himself to collapse into sobs on his best friends empty bed, his palms pressing into his eyes as he sat there and just let himself feel.

apparently, he wasn’t crying very quietly because it took only a few moments for you to find him, your soft footsteps alerting him to your presence. oikawa scrambled to wipe away what he knew was an unattractive mixture of tears and snot as you got closer.

you were one of the last people he wanted to see him like this.

“hey,” you whispered, standing a few feet away from him. “um, i know this is probably a bad time but i just wanted to thank you for apologizing? back at the awards show?”

toorū sniffed as he looked up at you with confusion written on his face. “what? you shouldn’t thank me for apologizing. ‘s common courtesy.”

you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “well, not always. so, thank you.” finished with your piece and not too keen on lingering where you weren’t wanted, you moved towards the door but were swiftly stopped before you got there.

“um, here. it’s from iwa-chan.” you gaped at the thick envelope oikawa was handing you before taking it and opening it, a low curse falling from your lips.

inside the package was a dense wad of cash, more money than you’d seen in months. accompanied with it was a letter, written in beautifully loopy handwriting.

you shut it quickly before oikawa could see, stuffing the envelope deep within your pocket where you could access it alone in the depths of your room.

“do you wanna come eat? last i heard, bokuto and tsumu were doing a cooking competition and i’m sure it’ll be fun to watch.” you were severely thrown off by the money and letter but you were determined to show toorū that you’d accepted his apology and were on your way to making amends.

he gave you a shy nod and trailed behind you to the kitchen, the loud sounds of fire and screaming coming from down the hall. you wanted to focus on the fun and merriment but the envelope was practically burning a hole in your pocket.

later that night, you finally got the chance to open the letter and read it, your former manager’s words bringing tears to your eyes.

dear yn,

i’m probably the last person you expected to hear from. you probably didn’t want to hear from me at all if i’m being honest and i don’t blame you. i know there is nothing i can say that could make up for what i’ve done to you but i’d like to try.

i’m sorry. those words don’t nearly express in and of themselves how truly remorseful i am but they needed to be said. there’s no excuse for how i treated you — not meiko, not my stress, absolutely nothing.

you deserved my common decency and respect and i didn’t give that to you. instead, i abused my position and made your life hell. i’ll never forgive myself for that.

uh, i bet you’re wondering what the money is? i promise i’m not trying to pay you off, it’s just all the money i’ve denied you since you moved here. i have a lot of wrongs to right and this is one of them.

sorry, i’m not very good with words but i just wanted you to know that i’m very sorry for everything that i’ve done. and i’m in no place to make demands or anything but i just wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on oikawa for me.

he’s strong but he’s also vulnerable. he might be a pain in my ass but he’s my best friend and since i can’t keep him from drowning, i was wondering if you’d do that - not for me but for him.

anyways, this letter is shit but i suppose you get the gist. use the money for whatever you want and if you’re as unselfish as i’ve heard, you don’t owe me anything. you don’t owe me money, kindness, or forgiveness.

take care of yourself,

iwaizumi hajime

℗ poker face

so... this is it

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - soooo m back :D hopefully this is the last of my mini hiatuses!! this chapter sucked to write but i’m not mad at how it turned out?? pls let me know how i did skjdkd don’t forget to feed me <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[tommybaholland]

when they’re needy for their s/o’s attention

featuring: kuroo, kenma, akaashi, kageyama, and nishinoya

kuroo

he walks into the room where he sees you diligently trying to read something in one of your textbooks

he smiles bc you’re so cute and hardworking 

and he almost (almost) feels bad that he’s about to ruin it 

he gets closer and observes that it’s more like you’re staring at the words on the page rather than reading them

“oh, there you are, lovely. do you have a minute?”

you look at him with a dropped expression, slumping over in your chair

“babe, you’ve been in here almost all day. i think it’s time for a break.”

you tell him about the huge chapter that you have to read, annotate, and generate several questions on by tomorrow 

“please, baby? i just want to show you something. you can come back in here after if you want but i wanna show you what i’ve been working on.” 

you halfheartedly agree and he takes you by the hand to lead you into your room 

the first thing you see when you walk in is all the pillows removed from your bed, including your stuffed animals and squishmallows 

they seemed to have migrated to the floor where there was a little awning of blankets which were held up by desk chairs 

“here it is! it’s a cozy, little blanket corner and it’s the perfect size for two.”

you smile and laugh a little at the craftsmanship

he had obviously put some time into this

you feel his fingertips trace over your shoulders as he wraps his arm around you

“so i thought we could watch a movie as a little break and i promise i’ll make sure you get your work done before tomorrow but you don’t have to if you feel like you want to get it done now--”

you respond by simply hugging him tightly around his waist as you thank him, telling him you love it 

he smiles earnestly as he pets down your hair and rubs your back

“of course, kitten.”

he feels smug but happy that his plan had worked 

because he loves getting to spend care-free time with you 

kenma  

less about words, more about (wholesome) actions

and therefore he’s not very subtle about wanting attention 

sits down next to you as you’re doing something for school and will pout like >:| when you don’t immediately greet him or acknowledge his presence

so he decides he has to resort to drastic measures 

he’s a literal cat

bumps his forehead into your shoulder multiple times until you look at him 

sometimes he’ll just simply rest it there and lean into you 

you feel his little forehead bumps or the weight of his head on your shoulder

and you’re like, ‘what is it, ken’

again, he doesn’t speak, he just takes your hand and places it on top of his head 

the silent signal that he wants you to play with his hair 

it’s, without a doubt, one of the cutest things he does 

he lays his head next to your thigh as you rub over the side of his head with one hand as you continue to try to work 

he’ll try to slowly inch his head to rest in your lap 

it’s beginning to hinder your work time, so you suggest that he go play a game or something 

*sigh* “i want to lay with you...also i already played today.”

buries his face into your tummy as he hugs you around your hips

“i’ll help you finish whatever you need later but please, can you just do that thing with my hair? i like that.”

it’s that serious 

and your only choice is to surrender 

so you decide to stop what you’re doing and lean back, placing both your hands in his hair, letting strands slide through your fingers

you put little braids in it like he likes

he sighs contently at the feeling, as it gives him little tingles from his scalp all the way down his spine 

akaashi 

he’s very discrete about wanting attention 

he’ll find you on the couch, working on something on your laptop 

he gets you out of the work trance momentarily to greet and kiss you sweetly on the lips 

he sits down close next to you and peers over your shoulder and asks you what you’re working on 

he’s interested but has no idea what you’re talking about 

“sounds...complex. do you need anything? or maybe want to take a little break?”

you know the ‘do you need anything’ is just his way of saying, “it’s my turn to have your attention.” 

you shake your head and tell him that you’re almost finished

“okay. can i sit here with you, baby?” 

you allow him under one condition

“no, i won’t distract you. i promise.”

that promise doesn’t go very far as he inches closer to you and tries to fit himself behind you, nudging his shoulder behind yours

you eventually ask if he wants to sit behind you

he smiles softly, “yes, please. i’d like that.”

you shift around and get comfy with him now sitting behind you

“just relax and lean into me, babe. there we go. do you mind if i...play with your hair?”

even though you can tell he wants your attention, consent is still at the top of his priorities

(which makes him the sweetest boy)

fools with your hair for a bit until he brushes it all to one shoulder

“is it okay if i..kiss your neck a bit?”

it’s getting harder to concentrate with the feeling of his feather light kisses on your skin, but luckily you only have a few sentences left to write

you feel him pressing closer to you and you ask him what he’s doing

“i’m just wrapping my arms around you and holding you, baby.”

he sits quietly for a bit, holding you tightly around the waist as you finish up your assignment and close your laptop

“oh, you’re finished? do you wanna... finish that show and cuddle now?”

you nod and he grins, “yeah? okay. now, can i have a kiss?”

kageyama

this man is not known to be a master communicator alright 

doesn’t really know how to express his feelings verbally :’(

so he generally tries to hide when he wants your attention 

but then hinata shows him the ‘i want the cuddles’ tiktok 

and at first he cringes and thinks it’s gross 

“i bet your poor s/o must wish they had a boyfriend who would do that!”

“shut UP you turd licker! you’re just jealous that i’m actually in a relationship, unlike YOU >:P”

but in the back of his mind, he wishes he could be the one to do that for you

fortunately you make it very easy for him  

you’ll be reading a book and he’ll come sit close to you and just kinda stare at you 

you feel it on you and you ask him if everything’s okay

“what? ye- yeah, i’m fine.”

you grin, knowing something’s up and ask if he wants to be held  

“no, actually-- i, uh, just, um, i wanted to hold you this time? if that’s okay?”

you’re like, ‘of course it’s okay!!’ but first you finish reading the page of your book that you’re on

once you’re done and the book is officially put down, you ask him where he wants you

he’s visibly nervous and doesn’t know how to say it so he just opens up his arms 

you wrap your arms around his waist and hug him close to you and he leans back so you’re resting on his chest 

his arms wrap around you and the one plays with the hem of your shirt, his fingertips occasionally brushing your skin

he lets out a content sigh at the pressure from you being on top of him 

you ask him if it’s okay for him

“yes, thank you.”

he loves that he has someone as patient as you 

nishinoya 

in terms of level of discreteness, he’s at the bottom out of these boys

honestly will attack you if you’re not doing anything

but you’ll usually hear him before you see him so you’re prepared for the impact

he literally yells and practically jumps at you when he sees you anywhere so you’re pretty used to this very ‘noya display of affection’ 

and it’s no different when you’re alone 

except he tries to be not as loud, especially when it looks like you’re doing something important

“hey, my sweet and gorgeous-- oh, look at you working hard. sorry, i’ll be quiet.”

he’s someone who’s the type to annoy you every five seconds, even in a quieter voice

and he asks about a million questions 

“what are you doing?”

“what does that mean?”

“why do you have to do it like that?”

“haha! sounds like that time me and tanaka had to study for our english final.”

“okay, sorry, i’ll let you do your work.”

but this boy can literally not sit still either and has to change his position on the couch every minute or so

you eventually decide to get up from your seat, wanting to move to the desk where you know you’ll probably get more work done

“hey, where are you going? come back here!”

and you’re like, ‘i love you but..’

“well, maybe if you held me in place, i wouldn’t move around so much!”

you knew exactly where this was going, looking unamused

“aww, c’mon sweetheart.”

and then he starts making that ‘psppspsps’ sound like you do with cats, as if it’s going to get you to willingly go back over to him

“yeah, you’re my cat now. hahahahaha”

you just ignore him and that’s when he gets whiny, very whiny and pouty and kinda dramatic

“c’monnnnnnnnn ughhhhhhhh. please, babyyyyyyyyy i need your cuddles or i’m gonna dieeeeeeee.”

at this point, you’d just give in but there are days were you can ignore him long enough to miraculously get your work done

“are you finished yet-- oh, you are? yay!”

will either sit in your lap or pull you into him to attack your face with kisses 

“let’s go get something to eat! are you hungry? i’m starving.”

hope we’re having fun on this haikyuu night! got any requests??

[justreadingfics]

It’s a Deal (Ch. 15-Final)

Chapter Summary: THE END.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 6.2k

Warnings: I don’t wanna spoil anything, but if you’ve read the story so far and handled well with everything, there’s nothing to be worried about. If there’s anything you definetely can read and want to check if you’re safe, feel free to ask me about it beforehand. 

A/N 1: Thank you Suz, @bucky-the-thigh-slayer​ for having my back for these last chapters. Love you. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated. More notes at the end of the chapter.

 It’s a funny feeling to have to knock on the door which you’ve spent so long mindlessly walking right through after opening it with your own key. Yeah, it’s funny… but also a surprisingly liberating and exciting sensation. It’s just like a feeling of meeting someone new living inside you. Or someone you just didn’t know was already there, waiting for you to acknowledge them. But a great deal of what you were and had just feels foreign to you now. Like that door to your place, except this isn’t your place anymore, so you knock on the wood softly and wait to be allowed to come in.

You don’t have to wait long as you’ve barely knocked and the door is opened, with Eddie appearing in front of you.

“Hi, you’re back,” he lets out a breathy smile, a tad of nervousness on his voice.

“Hi…” you tighten your lips, not knowing how to react to the excited “you’re back” that has just blurted out of his lips. You want things with Eddie to go as smoothly as possible and you definitely don’t want another argument. Not now when you’re so eager to just do what you have to do there and then go find Bucky, “Ahm…I’ve just come back from the mission and checked in to a hotel, I need to grab some of my stuff. If you don’t mind.”

“Oh…” disappointment hardens his face as his chin lifts up, “Alright. Come in,” he nods, stepping aside.

With tentative moves, you enter your former home before Eddie shuts the door behind him, “Ahm…Can you believe I forgot my phone?” You chuckle lightly, nodding at the device on the center table in the living room, “I had to use the company’s one the entire time.” You comment, reaching over for your phone and attaching it to the Stark mobile battery charger.

As Eddie leans back against the door, you ignore the intensive and unsettling stare he holds on you while your phone’s screen lights up. You rush to check your missed calls and your heart skips a beat when you find out several of them from Bucky. Did you really have to be so stupid about forgetting your phone there?

Your eyes lift from your phone to Eddie for a moment while a thought crosses your mind… Did he see those calls? Could he have answered one of them? No… Eddie and you might not be on the best of terms right now, but you know his character, he wouldn’t…

“Your boy toy wouldn’t stop calling,” he says, his voice as bitter as his words, “Until he decided to drop by.”

“What?” You barely whisper as your heart rushes in your chest. “Bucky?”

Eddie scoffs, uncrossing his arms and leaning away from the door, “Yeah… Bucky…Bucky Soft Tongue Barnes,” he says the name you have in your contacts for Bucky in a mocking tone, “Do you have another boy toy by any chance? Dear God, Y/N…”

You register the vicious mockery coming from him, but you don’t even care while your eyes roam around the room, spotting all of the boxes with Eddie’s stuff next to your stuff, “What did he want?” You ask, your breathing becoming erratic at the possible outcomes from that encounter.

“The fuck I know.” He shrugs, walking over you, “He didn’t stay long.”

“What did you tell him, Eddie?” Your head tilts while you ask in an almost defeated tone, fingers gripping your phone hard.

His face hardens even more now that he’s right in front of you, “I told him the truth, that this is our home.” He gestures around before lunging at you and grabbing your arm, pulling you close to him, “And that what you and I have isn’t just a shitty deal with a boy toy that can be destroyed by a small and unimportant glitch.” He spits.

Your vision turns into a blur while a thick lump of pure anger lodges in your throat. You harshly pull your arm and, expressing a strength you didn’t even know you had, you push him, making him trip backwards, “Fuck you, Eddie.” You push him again, this time even stronger, making his ass fall to the ground, staring up at you with big and incredulous eyes that makes you anger even bigger, “Fuck you, I thought we could’ve salvage something of our relationship, become respectful with each other at least, for our history’s sake,” you scoff pointing down at him, ”But I see now there’s just no fucking point.” You shake your head while your teeth clench.

As you move to step past him, he swiftly stands up and grabs your elbow again. “Y/n, please… don’t go. We can talk-”

“Fuck off, Eddie.” You shake your arm away, untangling it from his hold once and for all, “I have no time to waste talking to you.” You hurriedly move towards the way out, but before you leave the place, you turn back to him, “And just so you know, he’s not my boy toy, or a shitty deal, he’s the fucking love of my life.” You state, slamming the door on your way out.  

~~~

“Goddammit, Bucky, is it too much to ask for you to wait for us, you’re being too careless,” Steve chastises through the comms.

“I told you… we should’ve brought Sam.” Nat’s voice comes to his ears.

“Fuck off, Romanoff.  And you, too, Punk. You’re the last person who can say anything about being careless on missions.” Bucky hisses, being way ahead of his partners in exploring the alleged facility they are supposed to turn down from some assholes, A.I.M is what they called themselves. The third facility from that mission. Gun machine pointed ahead, he kicked open another door, finding nothing in the room again, “Besides, this place is dead, that was probably a false lead.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Nat, the receiver of the lead, scoffs, “And you would know that if you had stayed for briefing before jumping out of the quinjet in your bike, like fucking Mad Max.”

“Bucky!”

The loud voice on his ears, not Nat’s voice and definitely not Steve’s, makes him halt at once before he can kick open the next door.

“Y/N?” He frowns, not trusting his ears.

“Oh, shit.” Now, that’s definitely Steve and Nat talking in unison.

“Bucky, thank God. Finally. I need to talk to you.”

Bucky notices the relief but also the urgency in your voice. It doesn’t help him at all to figure out what the hell it’s happening, but he registers his heart racing by listening to your voice.

“Y/N?” He repeats himself, “What the hell? Where are you? Are you ok?” The thought that maybe some way you ended up as a hostage in that mission brings a lump to his stomach and his heart beats even faster.

“Yes, I’m mean, no… not really,” you speak quickly, “I’m safe, but I need to talk to you. I’m heading to the safe house designated for this mission right now. I’m gonna wait for you there.”

“What?” Bucky’s mind races trying to understand what the hell it’s happening. “I can’t… I-I have nothing to talk to you about.” He steadies his voice when he feels it faltering.   

He hears a scoff that he knows it’s Nat’s, but he says nothing, ignoring the nosey fuckers.

“Bucky… please,” you plead, the desperation present in your tone, “You have no idea how many codes I had to break find you and to get here.”

Fuck…

“You’re having a hard on right now, aren’t you?” Nat asks, breaking through the silence with amusement on her voice.

“He always had a weakness for the smart ones.” Steve comments. Whispering. Like that would help the jerk to remain unnoticed.

“You two stay fucking quiet over there,” Bucky chastises – even though neither of them were lying - while he listens to you clearing your throat, “What do you need to talk about?” He addresses you again, a bit too harshly, already regretting that reaction, but allowing the little bit of spite inside his heart to lead him on, “Is your fiancé there with you?” He clenches his teeth, “Y/N listen, I don’t want explanations, or pity-“

“Fiancé?” You practically screech into his ears, “Pity? Hell, no. It’s not what you’re thinking. Not at all. Eddie lied to you. That’s why I’m here, we need… we need to talk. There’s so much I need to say to you.”

“Like what?” Bucky whispers, heart jumping inside his chest. The fucker lied to him? Does that mean…

“Like I love you.” You burst out, punching the air out of his lungs, “Like I fucking fell in love with you and now you’re thinking I don’t, and I can’t wait another second to tell you everything I’m feeling.”

“What?” He checks, once again in barely a whisper, once again not trusting his ears.

“I love you, ok? I love you, Bucky.” You repeat, trying to speak with a calmer tone, but uneasiness still sweeps into your words.

Silence settles on his comms. No more words from you or from the snooping couple he knows is still there, listening to everything, as well. All he can listen to is his heart, frantically pounding against his chest.

“Meet you at the safe house?” You tentatively ask after a long moment of stillness.

That’s the precise moment the door in front of Bucky opens and he meets with a room full of armed assholes.

“I’ll be there in 15.” He states firmly, pointing his gun ahead.

In precisely seven minutes he has almost the entire room on the floor. He’s about to break the last man standing’s arm when Nat and Steve come running into the room.  

“Fucking hell,” Nat exclaims, taking in the place.

“We’ll take it from here, now you go to that goddamn safe house,” Steve says with a teary beam – the big softie - and points to the way out.

Like hell Bucky would waste another second.

~~~

He’s been inside the place for several minutes already, which seems like an eternity, legs quivering while he sits on the first dusted armchair he’s seen, he’s biting on his nails when he hears the knock on the door.

Not two seconds and he has the door opened, meeting with the sight of you. Panting and disheveled and perfect. And he freezes. Not one muscle inside him moves. Except for his stupid mouth.

“You love me,” he says, spontaneously, the words mindlessly coming out of his lips like in a dream.

You’re visibly taken aback at the line as you gasp and your eyes widen a fraction.

Shit… What the hell is wrong with him? He swiftly clears his throat, “Ahm, hi,” he manages to say, praying that somehow, he could erase that first sentence.

“Hi,” you answer, still clearly nervous, fidgeting with your fingers, but not taking your anxious eyes away from him, until you take in a harsh breath, “Yes, yes, I love you,” you burst out, while you suddenly step inside the place, walking past him, “I’ve been so stupid, but I was confused,” you drop your purse on the floor and, gesticulating and shaking your head, continue, “I-I thought I wasn’t sure about you, and then I was afraid I was gonna hurt you, but ended up hurting you anyway. God, I wanna kill Eddie, but no, I’m not here to talk about him,” you pace around, your trembling hands all over the place.

While you keep your rumbling confession, you miss Bucky slowly making his way to you.

“I’m here to talk about us, I mean… if you still feel how you told me you felt, I mean… after what Eddie told you, I don’t know if you still feel the same way, but I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I had work to do, and I forgot my stupid phone, I-”

You sulk in a breath when Bucky is right in front of you. Staring intently into your eyes.  You inhale some needed air, slowly, “I love you,” you say again, “I had no idea things would go this way, I didn’t even know that love could feel like this, so…” you search for the word taking another breath, “so damn wonderful. But it does, and I love you, I do. So much. I had a whole speech prepared, but that’s it. I love you.” You shrug.

Still unable to move a muscle or utter a word, Bucky keeps staring at you, like he’s in some sort of trance.

“Ahm…” You gulp, “Don’t you wanna maybe, ahm, say something?” Your voice falters, before you bite your lower lip, as if it’s getting hard for you to breathe.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky finally speaks, and, with the word choice, he can see the smile that threatens to curl your lips, but just don’t get through because you’re still clearly too nervous to allow yourself to smile, “I love hearing you talk.” He steps closer, seriousness all over his voice, “I could listen to you all day, all my life, but right now, I really want to kiss you, ok?”

That smile fully curls your lips now and Bucky smiles, too, but it’s short lived and replaced by a “humpf” as you jump on him and crash your lips on his.

He catches you and the craving you two feel for each other are expressed in the urgency of the kiss. Fingers grasp his locks. While you pull him by the neck, he pulls you by the waist, fireworks on his brain and his guts, pure longing for the proximity of his girl. His love.

Having you like that, kissing you, holding you, knowing how you feel about him is dazzling, mind-blowing, his senses falter and next thing he knows he’s sitting on the armchair with you across his lap.

Smiles surge through the kiss before you part from his lips, only to pepper kisses all over his face… neck… lips again, “I love you, I love you,” you repeat like a mantra between kisses, holding him with a strength he didn’t even know you possessed.

“God… sweetheart… I love you. You have no idea how much. You can never hurt me, don’t ever say that again. I love you,” he breathes, you thinking that you had hurt doesn’t go unnoticed by him, if only you could see how his poor heart is melting inside his chest with all the love he’s feeling and receiving from you.

His breath hitches when your teeth graze his neck, “I missed you…” You whisper, your voice becoming dangerously low while your hand wanders through his thigh, “And I missed this.” Your hand meets his crotch, caressing the bulge forming there, making Bucky’s brain short-circuit, “You’re so gonna love make up sex… I believe I have a lot of making up to do with Little Bucky.” You bite his earlobe, putting a bit of more friction over his bulge.

“Fuck… shit…” Bucky curses, “I want it so damn much, sweetheart, you have no idea how much, but, ahm…” He clears his throat, “Not in front of the baby.”

You lean back and frown at him, “Huh?”

Bucky wiggles his eyebrows and nods behind you.

You follow his gaze and there is Alpine. Seated on the carpet. Staring up at them, in all her confident and glorious demeanor.  

“Oh.” You swiftly remove your hands from his pants. Suppressing a laugh in your lips, you turn to Bucky again, “What is Alpine doing here in the safe house from your very Avengey mission?”

“Yeah…” Bucky tickles his tongue before tightening his lips, holding you on his lap by your waist, “You know… she just can’t leave my side anymore. “

“Of course,” you put on a mocking frowning expression, nodding your head, “She is the one who can’t leave your side, yeah…” You chuckle.

He’s got a guilty smile on his lips, but before he can offer you a comeback, a meow catches your attention before Alpine jumps on your lap.

Bucky feels the tension on your body by the surprise as you stare down at the white cat. 

“Bucky… Bucky…” you barely whisper, not moving your body in the slightest, while Alpine sniffs your hand before curling down comfortably on your lap.

“Oh my God,” You breathe and aim a disbelieved, yet incredibly satisfied smile at Bucky, still not moving a muscle as if you would break the spell if you did.

“I told her she would love you,” Bucky shrugs, feeling no surprise at all. He removes the arm from around your belly to allow Alpine to accommodate herself better.

“Aww, Bucky,” you coo, looking down and scratching behind Alpine’s ear, whose eyes shut at the petting, “You’re one protective little girl, aren’t you?” You address her, before turning to Bucky again, “I bet she knows I’m sure about you now, and there’s nothing she needs to worry about.”

“Is that so?” Bucky grins.

“That's so.” You nod, leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek, “Although, I gotta be honest…” You say, leaning back, with a smirk, “I thought it would be harder to win you over now.”

“Sweetheart…” Bucky puffs with a scorning expression, shaking his head, “The sooner you learn this the better: I’m a sucker for you.”

Your smile widens and you lean in to kiss him, but something catches your eyes behind his shoulder, “Ahm… is that my perfume?” You frown at the familiar bottle peeking out of his backpack thrown on the floor behind him.

Bucky doesn’t even look behind him, knowing he’s just been caught while you look back at him with amusement growing in your expression.

“Bucky Barnes, did you buy my perfume?” You ask with a gleeful voice.

Well, he better might as well use his armory, too, and, using the same tone of yours, he asks, “Is my name on your phone “Bucky Soft Tongue Barnes?”

You gasp, “How do you…” you start to ask, but doesn’t need to finish as you squint, “Nat…” You say in defeat.

Bucky laughs, while absentmindedly running a hand over Alpine’s back on your lap. “Face it. We’re a couple of creeps, sweetheart.”

You smile sweetly at him, “Yeah… But you’re my creep.” You lean over and peck his lips.

The sound of the door being burst open makes you yelp and almost fall from Bucky’s lap. He catches you steadily, while you hold Alpine protectively.

“Hello, lovebirds.” Nat has a smug smile on her face.

“Jesus, when will this ever stop?” Bucky glares at her, while you try to recover your breath.

“This is getting ridiculous,” you add, not bothered to leave your position on Bucky’s lap.

“Are they decent?” Steve’s voice is heard from the outside.

“Physically, yes. Morally? Never.” Nat answers, her smirk widening while she walks inside.

Steve then comes behind her, with a proud and excited smile on his lips.

“I knew this thing would work out,” Nat says, finger waving between you two.

You and Bucky look at each other and scoff, before you turn to her, “No, you didn’t. You were fucking terrified.”

Like a perfect eight-year-old and not the greatest spy on earth, Nat crosses her arms and, squinting, shows off her tongue at you.

And that’s when Alpine, still in your arms after the scare Nat gave you, hisses at her in her very peculiar and protective way. While Nat raises an eyebrow at her, your jaw drops and you exchange excited looks with Bucky before you smugly pet the cat’s head and tell her what a good girl she is.

Bucky decides, right then and there, having his two girls in his arms, that he’s the happiest bastard on the planet.

~~~

He is the one who knocks on the door while he holds your hand tightly.  Bucky looks at you and smiles. When you look and smile back at him, he wonders if his heart would ever stop altogether at that sight, cause it sure feels like it every single time.

“Hey, oh-“ Eddie gulps down his words when he sees you at his door along with Bucky.

He obviously wasn’t expecting Bucky to be there, too, and it brings a smirk to Bucky’s lips, his fingers intertwined with yours.  

“Can I get my stuff now?” You ask and the sheer disdain in your voice could be enough to make Bucky hard right then and there, but he focuses on the glare on his face at the stupid short asshole in front of him.

Eddie’s gaze lifts from the joined hands before he looks at you and nods, an astonished expression on his face.

The scowl on your expression eases when you look back at Bucky with a smile, “Wait for me?”

“Sure sweetheart, call my name if you need me.” He smiles back before you lean in and peck his lips in front of Eddie.

Oh… his mischievous girl.

Without sparing one glance at the man on the other side of the door, you walk past him towards your former bedroom.

At the very same second Eddie makes a move to go after you, his shoulder is swiftly pushed against the doorframe by a metal hand.

“I know for a fact I can smash your head using only one of these,” Bucky waves his metal fingers in front of Eddie’s face, “That’s the reason why I haven’t laid them on you, yet, cause you know… I’m a good guy and stuff…but I’m willing to forget all about that and do it anyway if you take another step towards her,” Bucky threatens through his clenched teeth, “Am I clear?”

“Y-yes,” Eddie stammers, widen eyes on the metal hand.

“Now you go and sit on that pretty couch… which I know quite well, by the way,” a wicked smirk curls his lips, before the deadly glare shifts Bucky’s face again “And you wait there until we leave.”

When Bucky lets go of Eddie’s shoulder, the guy rushes to the sofa and stays there. Completely quiet and still, avoiding Bucky’s unyielding stare on him.

Minutes after, Bucky catches your packed bags for you and you walk away hand in hand without looking back.  

~~~

As he takes quick steps to his place, Bucky can’t believe he’s finally going to see you again. Ever since you two finally set things up, work has been a complete bitch. He’s been called to another emergency mission, from which he has returned this morning, but then has been stuck in a conference room ever since. Fucking Nick Fury…As for you, you also had to work on the reports of your mission with Thor, and not even by phone you two have been able to talk much.

To be honest, it’s been only a couple of days, but now that he knows you love him back, he can’t wait to have you in his arms… and in some other parts of his body that’s been aching for you, too.

Thank God for Tony Stark, who just couldn’t cope with you staying at a hotel and, in a matter of hours, there was an apartment in the Tower waiting for you. Now that he’s only a few floors away, he plans on taking a quick shower and running straight to you.

His pace halts once he’s at his door. He frowns. Something’s out of place. Positioning his flesh hand over the gun on his thigh holster, he slowly turns down the knob of his door.

“Please, don’t shoot me.”

The sweetest of sounds, the sound of your voice makes him let out a relieved sigh right before a smile crosses his lips. He moves his hand away from his gun to open the door fully. The sight he catches when he does, takes his breath away all over again.

The lights are dim, only scented candles illuminate the place while rose petals pave the way from the door. There’s a small round table right there in the adjacent dining room, set with fine dishes and glasses and decorated with a crystal vase and fresh flowers.

Beautiful.

But not as beautiful as you. Standing there in his living room, wearing a short lace black dress with thin shoulder straps and a V-neck that makes his mouth water. You won’t be wearing that much longer, that much he knows as his pants become tighter.

He doesn’t realize for how long he’s been staring at you, until you move your gaze away for a second, biting your lips and scratching the back of your ear, “Hi,” you whisper and Bucky can see your shoulders getting a bit tense, “Welcome to our first date.” You give him a cringing smile and lift your arms, gesturing for him to see around the place, “Hope it’s not too much, though… I did spend a few hours fixing this up, Alpine was a doll and has been here keeping me company until she got bored and went to take a nap, I guess. I did not have time to cook but Tony offered his personal chef services and all we need is to call-”

After a few long steps he shuts your sweet nervous rambling by pressing his lips on yours. He pours all his love into the gesture and hopes he can erase whatever vestige of doubt and insecurity in that pretty mind of yours.

“I was dying to see you, sweetheart,” he says, breathing hard, just as you do, when he parts away, keeping both his hands on your cheeks, while you circle your arms around his waist. “This is… “ He looks around, “Incredible… You… shit… you look fucking sexy.” He groans, giving your body a once over, which makes you chuckle, “I’m only sorry you beat me to plan our first date. I should be the one to make all of this for you,” he says, tenderly brushing his thumbs on your cheeks.

You smile at him and tilt your head to place a kiss on his hand while one of yours starts drifting down his chest, “I’m still in debt with Little Bucky, aren’t I?” You wink at him while your wandering hand cups his cock through his pants, making him suck in a harsh breath, “And from now on I’m going to romance the shit out of you.” Your smile turns into a mischievous smirk.

“Shit,” Bucky breathes. Smiling, he leans over and captures your lips again. Not so gentle this time, since your cheeky words and your touch only makes the fire in him burn even hotter.

His hand drops from your face to your waist and he pulls you to him before he adventures down your ass, grabbing a handful of it through your dress, which makes you whimper through the kiss.

God, he loves the little sounds you produce when he touches you like that and he’s determined to coax a bit more out of you when he dips his hand under the hem of your dress and grabs your ass without the fabric’s barrier. But he’s the one to make a strangle sound to find out you’re wearing nothing underneath it.

“Fuck.” He parts from your lips only to ravish your neck, “Can the food wait a little, sweetheart?”

“Fuck yeah… please.” You pant, still brushing your hand on his aching cock.

He drags his lips to yours again, making the kiss deep and sloppy, savoring the feel of your tongue on his, the sweet taste of your mouth. You hike up your thigh around his waist, and his hand moves from your ass to between your legs. You moan through his lips and he groans to find you wet and ready for him.

His naughty, naughty girl.

“Honey…” He breaks the kiss but keeps his finger drawing little circles on your lips, watching closely while your swollen lips part and your eyes flutter. “I promise I’m gonna take my time and properly savor you throughout this whole night, but right now?” He pants and shoves a finger inside your damp cunt, “I just can’t take any longer, I need to have you. I want you so badly, do you want me, too?” He coos, curling his fingers on the point that always makes you yelp, gaining the aimed reaction from it.

“Fuck…” You curl your arms around his neck and lean over to whisper on his ear, “Always, baby. Always… I want you to rail me.” You grind your hips on his hand, like you’re desperately trying to get off solely from that.

“Dear God, I fucking love you.” Bucky bites the crook of your neck, but removes his finger from your pussy to grab your ass again. When he makes you come for the first time that night is going to be with his cock deep inside you, not his finger.

Breathing hard, you lean back and drop your leg. You quickly start working on his uniform. Not long after, you let out a frustrated groan. “Who the hell makes those?” You frown, fumbling with the complicated stripes.

“No time to deal with that right now,” Bucky states, and with ease, he handles you, ruthlessly, just like the way he knows you love, until he has you seated on the big and fluffy armrest of his couch.

He twists your legs to the side over the cushions, “Let me see that pretty pussy,” Bucky pants, voice thick with desire, lifting your dress just enough to give him the view and the access, “Shit…” he curses under his breath when he catches an eye of your glistening folds.

While he keeps himself on his feet, he works on his belt and zipper with one hand and holds your hips with the other. He absolutely loves the way you’re looking up at him, with that gaze of yours of sheer anticipation, lust and satisfaction he always saw in your eyes, but now, there’s something more. Something else… love. Hell, if that doesn’t make him even harder for you.

“You make me so fucking hard, sweetheart,” Bucky pulls his aching cock away from his confines and without waiting another second, he bends his knees a bit to align with your position and enters you.

“Holy shit,” you both gasp in unison.

At the comforting feeling of your warm and tight cunt - fucking finally - Bucky just holds back and, encouraged by the sweet begs coming from your lips, he supports one of his knees on the cushions, holds your hips still and starts fucking you. Right there, over the armrest of his couch, you both fully clothed, but desperate for each other.

You feel so damn good around his cock, and so damn beautiful with your cheek sunk deep on the sofa, your hands holding yourself on where you can, eyes closed and lips parted, sweet and filthy sounds coming out of you.

Bucky feels his core tighter and tighter and he knows he’s not gonna last long. He’s been waiting for this for so long, so desperately. He loves you so much. He wants you so much.

He tells you that, while he shoves his cock relentlessly inside you and leans down, not resisting to pull one stripe of your dress to expose one of your breasts to him. You cry out when he grabs the soft flesh. His hand moving in the same rhythm of his hips. Hard and deep.

“Holy fuck, baby, I’m gonna come,” you announce and, as soon as you open your eyes and your gaze meets his, your cunt squeezes his cock and you cry out. Not moving your hooded eyes away from his while you soak his cock with your climax.

Bucky is done for. If there had been any doubt of how much he’s a sucker for you, now it would be completely vanished.  But, in fact, there hasn’t been any doubt about that in him for a really long time.

Having held himself back for a while now, the look on your face and you calling him “baby” are enough to make his pace become erratic and drive him to his own release.  He moans and pants through the explosion of ecstasy, shoving his hips a few more times in you and filling you up with spurs of his pleasure.

You’re still fighting to breathe when Bucky leans over and crashes his mouth on yours, giving you a bruising kiss before sliding out of you and dropping his body on the couch next to you, not without pulling you with him.

He places you on his laps and you straddle his hips. You hold him, sinking your head on his neck, breathing him in. Your body shakes with the aftershocks of the pleasure you have just shared. The best orgasm he’s ever given you, the first one after you acknowledged and shared your feelings. Feels different… better… How you missed this… missed him…

“Enjoying our first date so far?” You ask, the sound of your voice coming out raspy and still breathless.

“Couldn’t be better,” he speaks, his hot breath fanning the skin of your neck.

You hold him even tighter and then giggle when you feel the wet touch of his tongue right there on the sweet spot between your shoulder and neck. You turn with the intention to kiss him and that’s when you realize he’s still in his mission uniform and you feel the fabric of your dress clinging to your skin, sticky with sweat.

You smile at him and brush your lips on his before getting up and, pulling him by the hand, you guide him to his bathroom.

This time he helps you with the strips of his gear and takes off your dress, before you two step into the shower. Nothing sexual happens, but that shared shower it’s one of the most intimate moments of your life. You leather him and he washes your hair. You play splashing water on him, and he kisses you. You hold him and he tells you he loves you.

After the shower you should’ve come back to the dining room and ordered your food, but he takes you to his bed instead.  

You get between his legs and suck his cock, slowly, reverently, peppering sweet and small kisses all over it until you swallow his pleasure. He kisses and licks and bites every little inch of you, savoring you like he promised he would. He makes you come with his tongue right before he enters you again. Forehead to forehead, breath to breath, skin to skin.

“I love you” is whispered repeatedly between harsh breaths and long and deep thrusts. His hands and lips on your skin. Your teeth on his. With his cock in your cunt and his finger on your clit he begs to see you come, to squeeze and soak his cock and, after you do, completely out of breath, he reaches his climax, too. Like he always does, he finds pleasure by giving you yours.

Your man. Your love. Your Bucky.

He stays beside you while he kisses you, neither of you willing to break the connection, yet.

When he looks down on you, there’s something of mischief on his loving gaze and on the beautiful smile on his lips, “So…Little Y/N missed me, too, huh?”

Your eyes widen for a second and you choke on your laugh, “No.” You shake your head while he laughs, “Don’t even start. Absolutely not… But goddammit, you’re cute,” you pull him to give him a smooch on his lips and then on his nose, “Now...” you say, while he keeps the adoring gaze down on you, “I love you so much. But can we move forward with our first date and eat something?” You cringe, “I’m starving and it’s all your fault. And Little Bucky’s.” You quickly add.

His head falls back and his nose scrunches in that adorable way of his while he laughs, “Alright, let’s go… but first,” he stops you with his lips on yours when you excitedly try to get up.

The kiss is long and soft and everything you’ve ever dreamed of. The hell with food, you’re pretty sure everything you need is right there, on top of you, kissing you and loving you like that, making your heart flutter and turning your legs into jelly.

You almost whine when he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead on yours, “You know,” he whispers, “I found out that it’s not just my buddy down there who has a strict preference,” he smiles cheekily, and you can’t help but smile, too, before he puts on some playful and exaggerated drama on his voice, “Turns out, my poor old fragile heart has it, too, and I’m gonna need you to take good care of it.” He brings your hand over his chest, “Do we have a deal?”

Your smile grows even bigger, filled with love, before you give him your answer.

“Always.”

THE END.

~~~

A/N 2: There it is, guys, this was my attempt at writing some light and fun rom-com. I really hope some of you have enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. It feels like I say this every time I finish a story, but I had so much fun writing it, this might be my favorite story so far. It’s definitely my favorite Bucky and I can’t part from him. That’s why I have a few oneshots planned so we can get a glimpse of their sexy adventures throughout their relationship, things that might’ve taken place during their deal, but also after what we’ve seen here in the main story.  

I can’t thank you enough for the incredible support I’ve received for this story, I feel so fortunate for having such amazing readers, who I consider as a very important part of my life. I tried to engage and interact with most of you, sorry if I ended up missing a few responses. I do read and reread the comments and asks often, though. You make my days brighter. Thank you. Love you.

[floraltypes]

Old Beginning Pt. 2

pairings - aaron hotchner x reader, jethro gibbs x reader

chapters - one 

summary - the news of a dinner party arrises, but there are some little challenges before the actually night

wc - 3k

an - sorry this took awhile, my summer is over and my writing schedule will be a little wonky now. i’m taking a break from answering requests, so I apologize if I haven’t answered yours, but i eventually will

Penelope and you both looked back at Aaron, taken back by his repeating of the word ‘boyfriend’. You didn’t plan on telling people so soon, considering he was your boss from your old line of work.

“I want to know everything about him, you have to invite him!” Penelope quickly went back into her loud chatting, attracting other faces at her comment. “I also may have mentioned to some of the team that you do have a boyfriend, it just slipped! You know I can’t keep secrets!”

“It’s okay, Pene,” You smiled softly. “I can’t invite him though, you know, since I’m not the one holding the dinner event.”

“You can invite your partner, everyone else can as well, considering it is a catch up,” Dave walked over, a cup of coffee in his own hand as he used the other to scratch at his stubble. “I’ll even invite the woman I’ve been seeing. Feel free to all bring a plus one, I have enough room and everyone deserves a taste of my Italian dishes, will change their lives.”

“Thank you, Rossi, but I simply can’t. It’s so soon, and he’s such a busy man,” You laughed, waving your hand. “It was a kind gesture though.”

“L/n, don’t tell us you’re embarrassed to show your new boyfriend to us?” Derek walked back over, poking your shoulder. “Penelope told all of us down here, just wanted to wait and see when you would tell us.”

“I’m not embarrassed, that’s absurd. He’s truly busy.”

“Invite him, I’ll make sure Will comes and hire a babysitter for Henry, so that we can truly have a adult night,” JJ chuckled. “Everyone is bringing a date, so it would be odd if you didn’t.”

“Actually, I don’t have a partner at the moment due to how invested I am in my studies and the factors of that many young woman my age only focus on the factor of conventional attractiveness rather then the complexity of brains and deep-”

“Don’t worry, Spencer, if you don’t have a date, then I’ll just bring two,” Emily joked. “You don’t need a date, I’m not bringing one either, but Y/n is for sure.”

“I’ll be like the tw-”

“You are dating someone, we aren’t, so you’ll bring that someone. Come on, L/n,” Emily continued on, grabbing your hand and pulling you away. “I’ll walk you out,” She turned back to wink at her coworkers, leading you to the elevator and soon the parking lot.

“Aaron,” Rossi looked towards his friend, a man who had his glare fixated on your exiting figure. “Will you bring Beth, the more the merrier.”

“Yeah, I suppose I will,” He answered, retrieving his cellphone from his pocket, pulling up her contact picture, thumb hovering over the call button. “Let’s finish up this work, so we call all get home.” He shoved it back in his pocket, commanding everyone else while moving back up the stairs to his office.

Meanwhile, you were outside of your car, looking at Emily still was right by your side.

“Bring your boyfriend,” She commented, watching as you fished for your keys and unlocked your car. “I want to meet him, I haven’t really talked to you in a long time.”

“We’re both so busy. Him as well.”

“Seriously, Y/n, I’m not gonna ease up on you. I’ve noticed the new tint in your eye, new considering the last time it was severely dulled. It’s amazing to see your real smile again, you closer to your old self despite the past losses. He really has helped you, so I want to meet the man who helped my dear friend so much.”

You contemplated her kind words, getting down to the point that everyone probably was happy to see you again, yourself physically and mentally.

“I’ll call him, see if he can come. Can’t promise anything, his work is very important to him, so if it needs him he’s there.”

Emily smiled widely, leaning over to kiss your cheek before you moved to open the front door and start your car.

“Great, I’m actually bringing someone. Poor Spencer might be the only one.”

“Aaron is as well?”

“Hotch, yeah,” She laughed. “Meet her at some track meet he had, Jack really likes her.”

“That’s good, I’ll see you soon then,” You smiled, shutting the door as Emily watched you back out, waving a small goodbye.

Leaving the facility, while at a stop light, you found your flip phone, finding the contact of Jethro and quickly dialing the number.

“Gibbs,” He answered.

“Hey, are you on a case?”

“No, are you driving?”

“Yes, safely. What are you doing? Building a boat,” You chuckled, imagining him in the basement with the tool and sweaty shirt.

“Yeah. Did you meet up with your old team today?”

“Mhm, all surprised to see me today. It was humorous in a sense. But, Rossi invited me and everyone to a dinner, telling us to bring a partner.”

“Who are you planning on bringing?”

“You.”

“So, we’re being more public with our relationship?”

“Just with the old team, my old team, they don’t have contact with anyone apart of NCIS, or at least not personal only professional.”

“I thought you were going to come and see me, instead of making me drive,” You could almost sense his smile on the other line, a mocking one.

Gibbs would obviously accept the offer, the man truly holding a strong affection for you, a soft spot personally for you, so he would agree to drive the hour or two.

But just because he would, it doesn’t mean he didn’t have to mess around a bit, act like he wouldn’t.

“I know, but then you can see my new apartment. And after this weekend, who knows when we’ll be able to see each other again. Both of our jobs involved sporadic cases that start and end at no specific time, hard to plan around. And, everyone is pressuring me to meet you.”

“I’m already popular, huh?”

“I suppose,” You huffed, rubbing your temple, exhaustion starting to take over you, wanting to get some rest, a calming bath to combat earlier feelings that seemed as if they were creeping up once again.

“I’ll come, don’t worry. Get home safe, call me when you have the address and date.”

“Okay, bye.” You hung up, tossing the phone onto the empty seat as you continued to drive, playing the music from the CD already inserted in your car.

Time leading up to the dinner seemed to fly by, especially considering that it wasn’t much time and you weren’t having to work. You decided to take the free time to get fully settled in, figure out your nerves, make a phone call to your therapist, and even read. Trying to get prepared for all the days that are to come.

Your hair was now being changed from its normal du to a new one, fancier in a sense. Applying a nice coat of makeup, new lip color, trying a new pallet and the old eyelash curler that hasn’t been used in a while, you finished ‘upgrading’ your face. A outfit was simple, considering you didn’t have many fancy ones, so with not much to choose, it was a quick decision.

Sliding that on and fixing the straps to be a bit tighter, messing with the bra to fit correctly, and pulling it down a bit, you grabbed your go to purse, shoving needed materials a into it as you moved to the kitchen.

Within the kitchen, there was a certain door within the wall of the pantry with a password. Quickly typing in the combination the door swung open, choosing between a small but handy knife, you put in the pocket of your bag.

You weren’t too worried about dangers at the dinner, but with years of catching/fighting murders, specific people after you, and even very powerful assassins, you carried certain weapons for safety.

Hearing the sturdy knock of someone’s knuckles on your front door, you rushed to shut the the secret door in the pantry, heading to your front door where someone was waiting.

A quick peak through the hole, your eyes widened in surprise and opened the door, allowing the man to walk in.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you, till uh, later tonight,” You mentioned, looking him up and down to see him more dressed up. “Are you not able to attend anymore?”

“No, I’m still going,” Hotch denied, sliding off his shoes and following you to the couch. “I just wanted to chat before than, a chance for just the two of us.”

“Is something wrong?” You walked over to your teapot, filling it with water, and placing it on your stove, heating up the water. “This is very unexpected.”

“Nothing is wrong. I just want to talk to you, see the apartment, hear what’s new with you.”

“Things,” You shrugged. “Obviously I’ve had a new job experience, similar in ways and also not. Grew closer with a new group of teammates, people, lost a few. Yeah, lost a few,” You repeated, remembering Jenny Shepard, even Kate, both amazing women, who did amazing things.

“That’s always hard, I guess my most recent loss was Haley,” Aaron hummed, soon the kettle making a high pitched noise, you rushing to take it off and grab some tea bags.

“She was also a amazing woman. Wonderful mother, cared so much for that little boy.”

“She really was.”

“Did you come to chat about her, it’s been a while since we had. Last time we really talked was five months after she passed, after the funeral.”

“It really has been that long?” Aaron questioned, taking the tea that you time handed him. “But it’s not the reason I came. I should have made more of a effort to keep in touch, after your transfer, after your loss.”

“You stayed with me for three months, allowing to lose some time with your son so you could change my dirty sheets and pick up all my snotty tissues,” You laughed, sitting down across from him with your own cup. “You had to get back to your family, make up for loss time.”

“You still helped me with my divorce during that time, and I still saw Jack,” He reminded you.

“I could’ve moved in with my father, but you allowed me not to do that.”

“Your father is a good man, but might not be the best to live with,” He laughed, a deep chuckle, something you didn’t see much. “You look nice.”

“Now you just notice,” You chuckle, taking another sip. “Thank you, you look nice as well. I was actually just going to call Jethro and tell him to meet me there, a bit of a drive and he isn’t happy about having to find a new team,” You spoke freely, feeling comfortable with the old friend, one you used to spill everything to years ago, him ranting to you too.

“Jethro? He has his own team? Sounds like a boss of some type.”

“Uh, technically. It’s complicated. I need to get going, to make it to the dinner on time and, finish, um, cleaning up my room before leaving.”

“I could take you there.”

“No thanks, I’ll see you there, bye.” You helped guide him to the door, a curt wave before he exited and shut it, locking it in a rush and moving back to the dining room table to clean the mugs.

You didn’t want to tell him all that, always insecure due to Gibbs being the prior boss of you and how people looked at that. Rumors were always spread about your and Aaron’s relationship, mostly about it being romantic.

Joining the team, you two easily hit it off due to your personalities. Always being filled with determination and stubbornness, refusing to give up till everything was done and right, even with files. Eventually you joined together, talked, spent most days with each other due to cases, and truly gained a very close friendship.

When rumors were getting around, glares were thrown your way, comments, left out by members who weren’t your immediate teams. People thought you were the cause of Haley and Aaron’s divorce, somehow word got around quickly, drama always does.

It was frustrating, already dealing with many different things at home, and even being in a relationship, it put so much unneeded stress and anxiety onto you.

So, getting into a relationship with Gibbs was a very reluctant thing on your part, he expressed his feelings first, but it was hard to accept them, despite the nerves he faced to do it.

Locking up the apartment, having all of your items with you, you made your way out the door and too your car, starting the drive to David’s house.

Upon arriving, you could hear light chatter in the home, lights on, and soothing music playing in the background. It sounded like everyone was having their fun, you couldn’t make out all the shadows of everyone indoors, just waiting outside for Jethro to arrive.

“Y/n?” You turned around at the sound of his voice, keys jingling in his hands as he walked up to you with a sly smile, shoving them in his pockets to place his arms around your waist. “What’s wrong, love?” Be snaked them around, a kiss to your somewhat clothed shoulder.

“Nothing, just a bit nervous to introduce you to everyone,” You smiled back at him, he squeezed a little tighter, catching your lips in a quick kiss. “Looking at your team, yet?”

“Nevermind that,” He grumbled, removing his hands to now interlace your left one with his right. “We should go in, right?”

“Maybe we could head back, to my place, say you are sick or something?” You looked back at him with a pleading look, to which he just chuckled at, starting to move to the front door, pressing the doorbell as you groaned a little.

“You’ll be fine,” He looked back at you as Rossi answered the door, cheerful smile on his lips, glass of scotch in hand as he moved out of the way to let you in.

“Ah! Y/n!” He cheered, leaning over to kiss your cheek and then pulled back. “Glad you made it! This must be…”

“Y/n! Oh where is the man?” Penelope rushed in, coming right by you with her own fruity drink, then leaning to whisper in your ear. “Is this him, oo!”

“Uh, Jethro that’s David,” You pointed to the man who first greeted you, him and Jethro shaking hands. “This is Penelope, the one kind of like Abby,” You smiled, as she gave you a little look, turning back and enveloping him in a little hug. She quickly turned back to you.

“He looks a little intimidating,” She whispered as you just laughed.

“For sure,” You nodded.

“Can I offer you a drink?” David turned to you two, gesturing to the one in his hand. “Something like Garcia for you Y/n, and what about you Jethro?”

“Just call me Gibbs, and yeah that’s fine,” He corrected Rossi, taking your hand as the two of you walked more inside of the magnificent house.

It truly was so well designed, very expensive, and the appetizers adorning the oak wood table looked very delicious. You wanted to go and grab a bite, before you were actually led to the living room where everyone was currently sitting.

“L/n, finally made it,” Derek laughed, beer in his hand as he pointed at you with a little chuckle. “You always know how to be a bit late.”

“Fashionably late, I believe that’s what it’s called,” JJ corrected them with her own wine glass in hand, Will sat right besides her on one of the couch as most of them in that room joined in laughter.

“What can I say?” You laughed, walking over, feeling less nervous with the factor of introducing your boyfriend, taking a seat on another couch in the large room, Jethro automatically sitting right besides you.

“So, introduce us,” Emily motioned over to Jethro, sly smile playing on her lips.

“This is Jethro, but he goes by Gibbs, and, uh, this is the team,” You started to name everyone off while pointing to them, leaving off a few names due to your members introducing their own partners to you.

Emily, Derek, and JJ had all brought partners. Spencer and Penelope decided to ‘go together’ as if they were partners, and Hotch hadn’t arrived yet. Rossi also had his girlfriend helping him cook in the kitchen, making drinks for you and Gibbs now.

“So, you work at NCIS, right?” Spencer questioned. “The Naval Criminal Investigative Service, very interesting considering the type of crimes you investigate. I would love to hear more about some of your cases and how you went about it,” Spencer smiled, a small notebook being pulled out of his pocket with a pen.

“Yeah,” Gibbs just nodded, looking at you a little questioning, which you just chuckled at.

“Why should we talk so much about work, it’s something we all do too much of,” You joked, everyone laughing, as Dave came back out, handing some drinks.

“Fine, fine, what do you do for fun Mr. Gibbs?” Derek asked, putting a arm over the couch and pulling his girl closer to his side, the woman just on her phone.

“I like to build boats, a type of hobbie I’ve been doing for years.”

“Building boats? Where?” Will wondered, intertwining his fingers with JJ.

“My basement, a private workspace.”

“How do you get it out then?” Penelope inquired, now back by Spencer and her face in her hand, leaning closer to show her interest in Gibbs statement.

“I’d be no fun if you knew that,” He shrugged, taking a drink with a small smile as Penelope gasped, Emily mouthing how ‘I like him’. It was sweet how everything was going well.

They all continued to converse with Gibbs, easily accepting him apart of the conversation, it was sweet and you were now on your second drink, practically all nerves gone.

“Sorry we’re late,” A voice mentioned in the hallway, dressed in a fine suit with a beautiful woman standing besides him. He shrugged off the last of his coat as he hung it up, taking her hand and walking into the hallway a little.

“This is such a nice place, Aaron. Oh! Your friend, wow, so grand,” The woman admired, now truly getting in your line of sight.

“Yeah,” He mumbled, eyes interlocking with yours before falling onto Gibbs. “I’m Aaron, call me Hotch.”

“I’m Gibbs,” Your boyfriend stood up, moving over to the other man with his hand stuck out. “Call me that.”

You had a feeling this evening wouldn’t be as smooth as you hoped.

——————

taglist - @wolviesbabes @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

(comment to be added, or a tag list for all my gibbs post)

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 317: My Boy Was Just Like Me

Previously on BnHA: AFO randomly blew up Lady Nagant as a good reminder of why you should never make a deal with this fucking guy, smdh. Hawks was all “well if it isn’t my two best friends, Deku and Lady Nagant, both of whom I respect and love tremendously.” Everyone was all “??” and Horikoshi was all “shh... just pretend” because it was too embarrassing for him to admit that he forgot to write a couple of set-up flashbacks I guess. Anyway so Hawks got Lady to tell them where AFO was hiding out, and everyone said goodbye to her and Overhaul, who never did get to see his boss (sorry buddy, I’ll send you a vial of my tears in the mail), and headed out to a house in the woods. AFO was all “hello Deku :) :) it sure is fun making you suffer :) :) :) anyways this is a trap”, and blew up the house. Yeah, we all here are getting reaaaaaaaal tired of your shit, AFO.

Today on BnHA: The Hawksquad and Edgeplatoon meet in a warehouse and are all “what should we do about the fact that everything sucks?” Mt. Lady is all “here’s a thought, what if we tried battling AFO with more than six people.” Hawks and Endeavor are all “great initiative, but just a friendly reminder that our friends also suck and would probably betray Deku which would suck further still.” Shouto is all “ANSWER THE PHONE DAD” and Endeavor is all “[IRONICALLY DOESN’T ANSWER THE PHONE].” Meanwhile over in Sadtown, capital of Sadland Prefecture, Japan, Deku is all “All Might, as you can clearly see I am completely fine and good, never been better in fact, definitely not caught up in the throes of an epic mental breakdown which is shutting me down emotionally, anyway so on that note I would like to leave you now goodbye!!” All Might is all “[can’t actually form any words because he’s too distraught].” Fandom is all “o(╥﹏╥)o.” Horikoshi is all “(*＾-’) 乃 [pew pew finger guns and barrel rolls into the darkness].”

sweet jesus lord

this literally doesn’t even look like Deku anymore?? this looks like Dark!Deku who shows up to fight you in that one room in the Water Temple. he looks like he’s about to crawl out of my television set and murder me with his psychic powers good lord

holy shit lmao Horikoshi is really just shrugging his shoulders and resolving last week’s cliffhanger with a single line of dialogue

fire is no one’s weakness. idk what other options you’ve got, AFO, but you’re gonna have to go back to the drawing board. maybe try bees or something. I’m just saying. we’re all expecting fire at this point but nobody is expecting bees

anyway so now they’re all sitting in some warehouse somewhere chatting about it I guess. shoutout to Horikoshi for finally giving my man Edgeshot some more dialogue at long last

well, Edgeshot, to answer your question, she exploded. so naturally she’s fine

nah just kidding, Hawks says she won’t be able to help them out much because she’s recovering from being exploded. this is the part where we all ignore the fact that Hawks got set on fire for like a full ten minutes back during the War arc and was only in the hospital for a day. anyways enjoy your temporary plot hiatus Nagant

man there’s a lot of dialogue here and I’m trying to figure out where to insert commentary but it’s kinda difficult lol. basically, Edge and the others are saying that they should gather up the other remaining heroes and get them all caught up on the whole OFA situation. which, hmmmm

like on the one hand, these guys definitely aren’t going to cut it on their own, so it’s a reasonable suggestion on the face of it. but on the other hand, do we really want to entrust the OFA secret to a bunch of other people, most of whom shat the bed during the War arc to be quite frank? is it really worth the additional risk? especially given that any one of them might go spilling the beans to the public -- or worse, betray them to AFO??

also just a quick side note here, Mt. Lady’s character development never ceases to delight me. she’s become so committed to her responsibility as a hero these days, and it fucking suits her. I genuinely consider to be one of the elites now. I mean it doesn’t hurt that all the other elites are fucking dead lol but still

wait what? Death Arms retired??

Death Arms as in the guy who was too afraid of a little fire to try and save a terrified 14-year-old kid who was slowly suffocating right before his eyes?? that Death Arms???? color me surprised. shocked, I tell you

...okay but holy fuck

Death Arms. bro. my expectations for you were low but holy shit. like I’m sorry, but I don’t even have it in me to try and pretend like I feel the slightest bit of sympathy for him or Old Man Samurai or any of those other guys today. thanks for a whole lot of nothing my dude. good riddance

(ETA: so I’m rereading this the next day and realize this comes off as kind of harsh, so let me just try to clarify. it’s not the fact that he’s quitting that bothers me, to be honest. it’s the fact that he’s quitting specifically because he feels like the public is being mean to him. that’s it.

seriously. it would be one thing if he was quitting because he was scared, because now that is human. nobody wants to die, and I doubt any amount of training can ever fully prepare someone to go up against that fear. but the thing is, he never once mentions that, or talks about the danger aspect. instead, I got the distinct vibe from this speech that Death Arms is one of those people who only became a hero because of the limelight. and I just don’t have any patience for that. if all you care about are likes and subscribes then go become a fucking youtuber or some shit. nothing wrong with that! but you didn’t; you signed up to be a hero and protect these people. they gave you their respect and admiration because they trusted you to protect them. and now that they’re no longer in the mood to worship and applaud your every move on account of them being scared shitless because they’re living in the literal end times, you decide to dip. so like okay, fine then. don’t let the door hit you on the way out. anyways lol sorry for the rant.)

anyway so yeah. perfect example of why I don’t exactly have a ton of faith in most of the remaining heroes out there lol. also let me just once again give a shoutout to my best girl Mt. Lady whom I suddenly find myself appreciating all the more

“please calm down makeste. drink some water and enjoy this fresh new jeans pun” listen Horikoshi don’t tell me what to do dammit

fine. it is a nice pun, I guess

-- damn so now Endeavor’s saying that the media is already being fed info by the retired heroes. so for some of these guys it wasn’t enough for them to abandon all the people they swore to protect and to leave their fellow heroes out in the cold; they decided they might as well actively make things worse for them while they were at it, huh. like I get wanting to spill all the dirty secrets from your old job that you just quit, but this isn’t Jeff Bezos you’re screwing over, this is a sixteen-year-old kid

-- like, yes!! this, right here!!

exactly!! let’s not forget that there are already two prior instances of this happening. Endeavor arguably deserved it, but Katsuki not so much

huh. Endeavor seems to have a more optimistic outlook regarding this than I do lol

I mean, this is the same public that didn’t hesitant to blame a kidnapped child for his own kidnapping, and then later on for being the downfall of the Symbol of Peace. but okay then

anyway so blah blah blah, more talk about how they need to use Deku as bait, which basically puts them back at square one, and then they’re all just trailing off into silence and sitting around in the dark lmao this is getting very depressing

SKDJFLSDKJ:LFKJ

SHOUTO?????

NOOOOOOOO ARE YOU KIDDING ME

OH HOW THE TURNTABLES OMG. THE GHOSTER HAS BECOME THE GHOSTEE. Endeavor you petty son of a bitch. and what a brutal cut to that flashback too. “let’s stop Touya together” nah Shouto I’ve got a better idea why don’t I abandon you in U.A. and sally off with Hawks and Jeanist to found the “let’s pretend like we’re doing something to help Deku” club, which basically consists of us sitting around making terrible decisions all day long

Shouto, honey. you deserve better my little Coca Cola can. .........but if you really do have something important you need to tell your dad you could just text it to him. all the love and support, hugs and kisses, you’re doing amazing sweetie. but if you need to pass on any vital information you can just write it down and hit send honey that’s all I’m saying love

now he’s getting another call?? -- or, no, Hawks is getting a call from All Might

ARE YOU FOR REAL HAWKS OMFG

so while you all were sitting around talking about how useless you are, the kid you’re supposed to be protecting was battling another hired gun. I see. please pardon me for one second, I have a phone call to make. the phone call is to RockLockRock and Manual. the reason for the call is to apologize for calling them the worst bodyguards ever back during the War arc. the reason for the apology is because it turns out I WAS SEVERELY MISTAKEN OMFG

JESUS CHRIST DEKU DID YOU JUST KILL THIS MAN LMAO

shoutout to Horikoshi for offscreening this fight. we get it, lol. Deku strong and scary, villains ineffectual and feeble, and AFO... [checks notes] yep, still a dick. the angst arc continues

-- the angst arc continues, SIR

jesus christ I may have to rethink all of my opinions about Deku being framed for murder in movie 3 lmao. never mind. he did it, your honor

holy fucking shit Deku. “he might blow up, so please be careful” fdlskjflk jlskdjflk lwkejflk anyway so I’ve decided the explosion running gag can stay, actually

DEKU WAIT YOU FORGOT YOUR LUNCH!!

lol why do I get the feeling some serious shit is about to go down. ALL MIGHT NEVER MIND BACK OFF I THINK HE NEEDS HIS SPACE

OH MY FUCK I GASPED OUT LOUD

NO NO NO. I KNEW THIS WAS COMING GODDAMMIT BUT NO. NEVER MIND, I CHANGED MY MIND ABOUT IT, I’M NOT READY TO CRY TODAY

shit. shit shit shit shit and OF COURSE all I can fucking think about is that stupid fucking prophecy and gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Deku please. please please please if you really are going to leave All Might here, please be so very careful in choosing your farewell words to him now because have this sudden horrible fear that this might be the last time you ever see him alive and oh god. oh god oh god

DEKU NO, YOU’RE REALLY NOT!?!?

I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYONE LESS FINE IN MY LIFE, ACTUALLY????

holy shit. and the fucking callback to the prophecy now. just in case we forgot. WHICH FYI, WE DIDN’T. but that’s basically confirming that this is all still very much on the table and HORIKOSHI NEVER FORGETS oh my god someone please hold me

and the fact that Deku’s flashing back to it now too, though?? because he never forgot either, because of course he didn’t, and now all this stuff is happening, and AFO’s words are getting to him, and this is literally his worst fear come to life and so of course he’s distancing himself from everyone, and now it’s finally come to even this. even the person he admires most

-- OKAY NO, FUCKING COME ON ALREADY I CAN’T TAKE THIS

I GET IT OH MY GOD, I ALREADY UNDERSTAND THE EMOTIONAL IMPACT OF THIS MOMENT WITHOUT ALL OF THE DEVASTATING FLASHBACKS THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH!! YOU ACTUALLY DO WANT ME TO CRY, HUH, IS THAT IT. THIS MAN THAT HE THINKS OF AS A FATHER, THIS MAN WHO HAS BEEN EVERYTHING TO HIM SINCE HE WAS A VERY YOUNG CHILD. EVERYTHING THEY’VE BEEN THROUGH, JUXTAPOSED AGAINST EVERYTHING DEKU IS UP AGAINST, EVERYTHING THAT’S AT RISK. LET’S JUST PUT IT ALL SIDE BY SIDE. LET’S JUST PILE ON ALL OF THE FEELS

(ETA: just a quick note that even though some of the posts I’ve read have described these as All Might’s flashbacks, I’m pretty sure they are Deku’s. most of these are scenes that only he was there for, so yeah. even though All Might is the one thinking the thoughts on the next page, the flashbacks are what’s running through Deku’s mind right now, and so we’re getting that emotion from both of them, which makes it extra devastating lol.)

wait, what???

WHAT??? do you really think that’s why he’s been so determined to protect you this entire time?? simply because you’re his successor?

-- oh no wait lol I think I got that mixed up, this is All Might saying that Deku feels the need to protect him. well that makes more sense lol

oh my god I cannot

his last words. his last words to him. and we can’t even see if he is smiling, like All Might always encouraged him to do. but what are the odds he can’t actually bring himself to do it. what are the odds he’s actually crying. oh god this scene is going to rip my heart out and STOMP on it in the anime isn’t it. Deku’s VA is going to full on murder me with emotion. not that there’ll be much of me left to murder after the thorough job that Horikoshi has already done here

YOU’RE CRYING. DEKU IS LEAVING ALL MIGHT AND IGNORING HIS OUTSTRETCHED HAND AND YOU’RE CRYING. AND BY “YOU” I MEAN “ME”, FUCK

nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope no words just feels just a big ol’ pile of feels. I do not have the strength. future me... [broadly gestures] good luck with all that

(ETA: LOL, WELL THEN.

what breaks my heart here is All Might. All Might, and everything he’s been through, and history repeating itself, and forcing him to live this moment from both sides because he wasn’t strong enough to fix things.

Toshinori had only just turned eighteen when Nana died. like, I feel like we don’t mention this enough. the All Might we know is a sixty-something-year-old man, and so everyone always talks about him like he’s basically been an adult forever. but he was a child when he met Nana. and he was still just a child when she died. barely a year older than Deku is now. younger than Mirio was when we first met him.

and we don’t talk about that. we don’t talk about how devastating that was for him. and we don’t talk about how the reason he grew up to become so reserved and withdrawn -- for all that he always tried so hard to outwardly project the image of a bold, confident, smiling hero -- was specifically because of what AFO did to him. because AFO targeted him in the exact way that he is now targeting Deku. because that’s what he does. he goes after every new user of OFA, and he finds out what’s most important to them, and then he destroys it. and for Toshinori, that was Nana. if you’ve read All Might Rising, you know that AFO basically killed her in front of him (and only killed her, while letting Toshinori and Gran get away). Toshinori (while crying) later says she was like a mother to him. and interestingly enough, during this same conversation, Gran tells Toshinori that he can see “that madness in [his] eyes” when Toshi talks about becoming strong enough to defeat AFO. madness in his eyes. sound familiar??

what’s happening to Deku now is the exact same thing that happened to Toshinori when he was a boy. AFO tried every bit as hard to break him as he’s trying with Deku now. “the path you’ve chosen is a thorny one. every battle grinds away at your soul with no end in sight.” we don’t talk about how Toshinori experienced this same thing for forty fucking years. and all the while isolating himself, exactly like Deku is doing now. pushing people away, exactly like Deku. because he never had anyone who was able to reach out and pull him back. and those words that he now finds himself frozen and unable to speak -- “don’t push yourself”; “you can rest” -- are the same words that no one ever said to him until decades later, when it was already far too late to make any difference.

everything that Deku is experiencing now is what Toshinori also went through. and it’s only now, as he watches it happen to his student, the boy he loves like a son, that he’s finally starting to realize the full extent of how wrong it was. you shouldn’t have to fight alone. you shouldn’t have to bear that kind of enormous burden alone. you shouldn’t have to push yourself, and you can rest. you can rest.

but it’s too late. just as he’s finally coming to understand it all, it’s all too fucking late. and he can’t say the words, he doesn’t know how to say the words, and then just like that, Deku is gone.

and he’s alone. again.)

I can’t. this can’t be their goodbye. I’m not ready. for this to be how they finally part, and then they never see each other again except in OFA. how is that fair. how is that fair. how is that fair

fuck me. lol. how many pages are left in this thing. let’s just wrap this up lol. so now of all the times for this fucking guy to finally show up

I can’t believe Stain has been here literally this entire time hiding behind this random wall and cutting onions. that was you who was cutting the onions, right. no need to answer that we’ll just say it was

HORIKOSHI JUST END THE CHAPTER PLEASE I’M OUT OF SPOONS. YOU HURT ME SO GOOD AND I LOVE YOU FOR IT BUT YOU NEED TO LET ME GO NOW SO I CAN BEGIN THE PROCESS OF TRYING TO PUT MY LIFE BACK IN ORDER HERE. SO WHERE ARE WE CUTTING TO NOW WHAT IS HAPPENING

Stain did you also let AFO give you a new quirk. what’s with you guys. do you like blowing up

oh nvm lol because they were talking about THIS GUY ohhhhhh my fucking god

THAT’S BECAUSE HE’S SAD, LINDA!! jesus

omfg. and so yes, good, the chapter is ending here now on page 15. for once I am FULLY on board with that lmao

anyway so tune in next week for more adventures of Werewolf Deku!! that is, assuming we don’t finally cut back to U.A. at long last, which is actually a strong possibility considering that this chapter will likely mark the end of volume 31. it sure wouldn’t kill Horikoshi to start giving us some hope after everything he’s just put us through lol. KACCHAN COME GET YA BOY

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.20

Changes

03/21/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 6,206

Warnings: ANGST up the whazoo! Like seriously, angst. Language, more angst, talks of pregnancy, relationship troubles

A/N: Oof, this one is pretty bad. First of all, I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me. But anyone who knows me and my storytelling, I always ramp up the angst around here. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter to the best of your ability! If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

It’s nearly nightfall when Thor lands on the drive in front of your house.

His honeymoon haven, as he thinks of it often.

There’s hardly any impact from his descent, but what little there is kicks up a puff of dust despite the heavy gravel.

It crunches beneath his feet as he makes his way towards the front door. His boots fall heavy on the aged wood and before he can knock you’re there, pulling the door open.

You’re the most wonderful sight he’s ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on. You’re perfection. Even tired as you look, eyes bloodshot, lips slightly off color, no glow in your cheeks or brightness in your gaze. You’re still the most beautiful creature in all of the universe.

He smiles at you but you stare at him stoically, then step aside to allow Dr. Wilson passage.

“Dr. Wilson,” Thor suddenly remembers sending her to be with you.

He smiles at her and she gives him one in return, albeit small and tight and it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Your Majesty,” she curtsies quickly before turning to you and placing her hand on your arm. “If you need anything, you have my number.”

“Thank you, Dr. Wilson, I’ll use it if I have to. Which something tells me I will.”

“Are you not better yet, cherub?” Thor asks, worry creasing his forehead.

You don’t meet his eyes and he notices the way Dr. Wilson steals a quick glance at him before she gives you a curtsy too then moves around him towards the drive to a shiny silver car.

You step out to the edge of your porch, waving at the Doctor until she’s gone.

As you turn back to him, Thor breathes in deep, almost taking a step towards you to wrap his arms around you and kiss you and quench this thirst for you that has been growing larger and more demanding every day that the two of you have been apart.

Before he can, you point towards the doorway and move past him, “You better come inside. It’s supposed to storm tonight.”

“Storm?” Thor asks incredulously. “Shall I chase it away for us?”

You don’t answer him and instead walk into the kitchen, disappearing from his sight as you move around the counter towards the sink.

Thor hesitates, his heart dropping for the first time since he arrived. At first he merely thought you exhausted from your illness, but now he’s wondering if there might not be something more going on.

Are you angry at him that it took him so long to come and see you?

As he shuts the door then steps towards your coat rack, he hangs his hammer carefully before moving towards the kitchen no longer in uniform but in a plain gray t-shirt and dark blue jeans.

“Are you not well at all yet, cherub? Will you need more time away from home?” he stops by the edge of the island, his hand reaching over to poke at the smooth wooden counter nervously.

The longer you take to answer him, the more he thinks something must be wrong, beyond your falling ill.

There’s no possible way that you might have found out about-It’s almost too unbearable to think of but as you keep your back to him, hands calmly but with purpose filling your kettle with water and dropping tea bags into a pot, his stomach begins to churn.

“Y/N, if something is wrong, I-”

“I’m pregnant, Thor. I’ve known for a week. Since the day in your war room when you were telling Loki that you wanted to get an annulment so that you could marry Jane.”

Thor’s heart stops. Outside the storm grows nearer faster.

Any light left from the setting sun is snuffed out by the black clouds of thunder and rain that Thor’s panic pulls from the atmosphere.

“I was coming to tell you, but you left your door open. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but then you said Jane was pregnant and for a moment I was hoping that maybe she was pregnant with someone else’s baby, but it didn’t sound like that’s what you were thinking so, I listened.

“My mind, at that moment, was a little foggy. You know? It took me a second to really think about what we could do. Because for me, I knew that even with this new hurdle, I wanted to overcome it with you. At your side.”

Thor watches as you step to the stove and light the burner, placing your kettle over it to boil.

His limbs are fuzzy, his mind a hive of buzzing bees and crackling electricity. His heart is still not beating but he can feel it breaking. Every fissure, every tear, he feels it from end to end. His mouth will not open and even if he had something to say, even if he could think enough to say it, you don’t sound finished and he will not interrupt you.

You move to pull two cups out from a cupboard and place one in front of the nearest stool to him, then the other on the island in front of the sink where you’ve been standing. You move the teapot over to the island too, then place both hands on the edge to lean all your weight against it.

Somehow, having you look at him is worse. He can see the heartbreak in your eyes, the betrayal. He can feel the anger surging beneath this calm exterior you’ve pasted on.

He’d rather have you rage at him, throw things at him, than see you keep your composure and think about this rationally. Because what can that mean? Have you given up on him? What does this mood of yours mean for your marriage?

“One of the first things I thought was that we should get Jane a room, or maybe a proper house where she and the baby could live because I could never keep you from your child. Not when they would be the rightful heir to the throne. And even if they weren’t going to be the heir, that baby would be your baby. Your child. So how can I ever keep them from you?

“I wasn’t exactly happy that Jane would be in our lives forever seeing as she is so openly…” you tut, looking up at the light fixture above as you search for the right word. “...not hostile. But she doesn’t like me. I could see it the moment she arrived but you seemed, I don’t know, oblivious of it? I’m not sure if that’s because it’s Jane or not, or if you seriously just didn’t notice?

“Every time we were alone, she always made sure to keep her distance. She never talked to me unless she absolutely had to, but as soon as you'd come into  the room she was all politeness and sociable,” you laugh without humor. “I still have no idea how you didn’t notice.

“It was sad, honestly. It made me sad, a lot. But I kept my mouth shut because you trusted her so wholeheartedly even though I could feel the snake she was. Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this, especially since she’ll be part of our lives now, but-”

“She won’t.”

You stop talking, fixing your piercing gaze upon Thor and all he can do is shake his head in rebuttal of what you just said.

“She won’t be part of our lives,” he continues, explaining himself as quickly as he can.

Now that he’s got a word in, he’s eager to tell you how silly all of this has been. How stupid and unnecessarily taxing the stress was.

“She’s not pregnant,” Thor smiles, and he is glad to see your relief.

It’s brief and subdued, but it’s a small sigh and a relaxing of your shoulders.

After a moment you take several steps back to lean against the sink.

“So we have nothing to worry about,” Thor continues, hoping to latch onto his spark of hope.

He rounds the island with godly dexterity but you take a step back, looking up at him with narrowed eyes.

Your anger is less hidden now, and he can see the outrage in your face.

He stops his pursuit to give you space.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Your demand confuses him. Doesn’t it make you feel better? It makes him feel loads, tons, millions of times better.

“I-” he begins confused.

“You were willing to leave me...to end our marriage, for a baby that hadn’t even been confirmed yet. You think telling me that Jane not being pregnant so now you don't have to erase our marriage as if it never existed is gonna make this better?!”

Thor is speechless, trying desperately to understand the problem, the confusion. Why are you still angry?

“Y-yes, my cherub. No baby, no Jane, no need to figure anything out,” he insists.

“YOU CALL AN ANNULMENT FIGURING SHIT OUT?!”

Thor winces, never having heard you this angry before. You’re livid and that scream is directed directly at him. It takes him a moment to regain some composure but when he does, he sputters to get his story out.

“I-I admit that perhaps the moment of my finding out about Jane was not my finest. I just learned that the once woman I loved was having my child and the scandal that would bring upon my people-”

You scoff and turn away from him, moving back towards the stove as a small stream of steam begins to rise. It’s not hot enough yet though.

Thor doesn’t understand. You know how life works. You’ve been there daily, watching him say and do things that he wouldn’t normally do. He’s being forced just as much as you are to deal with things, only his opportunities are much richer in variation.

“You’re angry with me?” Thor knows this, but something about saying it out loud hits him with a harsh sense of injustice. “What choice would you have had me make?”

You stiffen at his new tone. He can see the shift in your body, and he instantly regrets the momentary anger that boiled his blood.

The way your shoulders slump has his heart beating wildly with new panic. How does he fix this? How can he make this up to you? How can the two of you find some common ground?

“Not this,” you say, quietly.

Thor almost doesn’t hear you but only almost..

“Y/N…” his voice is softer, negotiating in an attempt to calm you.

The placating tone has the opposite effect on you.

“The one thing I asked you to do is to be honest with me. I asked you not to make a fool of me and you did it anyway. You lied to me-”

“I didn’t lie-” Thor begins, but he knows that omitting the truth is almost as good as. His voice trails off.

“Not only did you lie to me but-but when we took our vows, I thought-”

Thor clenches his fists, watching you struggle to overcome some emotion that he can’t see because you’re still facing away from him.

“I feel so stupid,” you gasp, and as your voice hitches, Thor realizes that you’re crying.

He rounds the island but you turn to look at him, throwing your arm out towards him, “No!”

He freezes, breathing labored as his stomach aches. His heart tears again, searing pain ripping at his chest.

It only feels worse as he gets a good look at your face, tears streaming down along your cheeks as despair washes over you.

“Don’t touch me,” you beg of him and Thor can’t believe you mean it.

You can’t mean it.

“The only thing I’ve ever wanted was to have a family of my own,” your words aren’t weak or stuttering now.

Your voice is strong and sure, the week of uncertainty having firmed your resolve.

What have I done?

���When you married me, when you accepted me as part of your house, I thought that I’d finally found that. Not just in you but in Loki and Hilde and Heimdall and the rest of our people. And in three seconds, you took that away from me.

“You abandoned me,” you declare and Thor can’t stay silent anymore.

“No! No, Y/N, I have not abandoned you. I’m here. I’m right here. I came for you. To take you home!”

“BUT YOU THOUGHT ABOUT IT!”

Thor can see the frustration in you, the utter befuddlement you must have felt, the betrayal. There’s disappointment and fear but most of all there’s loss. You’ve lost something this week, and even though he doesn’t know what it is for sure, he can guess.

“You gave the thought a presence and you meant it. You would have left me!”

“No!” Thor protests, an anguished cry of his own sorrow. A refusal of your conclusions.

“That’s what I was coming to tell you today. I woke up with the firm belief that Jane was still with child and as soon as it was confirmed, I was going to come and tell you that even with her carrying my child, you are my Queen.

“Nothing could ever change that and the only life I can imagine living is one with you at my side.”

You’re already shaking your head in protest, already disbelieving him. Thor attempts to step closer but you renew your extended arm.

“No,” you tell him firmly, voice low and quiet with resentment. “I need you to stay away from me.”

“You want me to go?!” Thor asks in pained disbelief.

You keep shaking your head, not answering his question.

The silence in the kitchen is heavy and to Thor, it feels endless.

Too few mornings flash through his mind of you waking beside him to turn and recount your plans for the day, your hopes for your lives together. You’ve always wanted to talk to him. You’ve always wanted to be with him.

His touch has never been unwelcome even in the first days of your courtship.

Your eyes are still flooding over, lips trembling, chest rising and falling with the effort of your crying.

His own body is still. This is the lowest he’s ever felt and he’s not sure what moving will do to him.

The quiet is ripped apart by the slow build up of your kettle’s whistle, but you don’t move to take it off the heat.

“Should I leave, cherub?” Thor asks again, his deep voice weak with emotion at the very idea that you’ll tell him to go.

You reach up to wipe at your cheeks, fingertips sweeping new tears away from the edges of your eyes as more rush to replace them.

You reach over and take hold of your elbow.

You’re thinking about it. You’re actually thinking about whether he should leave.

“No,” you finally whisper, unable to say it any louder he guesses.

It probably goes against every instinct in your body to allow him to stay.

Because he needs something to do, because he can’t stand there and just watch you hate him, he turns around and goes back around the island so that he can go to the stove behind you and move the kettle.

Thor watches you follow him with your eyes as he moves then take a step away from him when he slides behind you to get to the stove.

You move to take your seat at the island and Thor pours the heated water into your teapot.

He places the lid on top, the clink of the ceramic loud in your silence.

Your shaking hands give him worry and he moves towards the small pantry to pull a tin of cookies you’d bought in New York during your honeymoon.

You’d gone on and on about how much you enjoyed them and now that memory feels like a lifetime ago.

A happier one.

He moves around the kitchen taking a large plate and loading it up with your cookies. He grabs the milk from the fridge and pulls the artificial sweetener from the far end of the island to move it closer to you.

He’s aware of your eyes on him still, watching his every move with a gaze to rival Heimdall’s. He doesn’t try to dress his actions up as anything other than what they are; concern.

He places your cup closer to you, fills it with tea, milk, and your sweetener. Once done, he moves back around to his side of the island and takes his seat once more.

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re almost angry enough to be petty. You almost want to take your tea and pour it out. Just to show him how much things aren’t okay.

The way he’d walked in here, brazen and as if he hadn’t attempted to take the only true family you’ve ever known and erase it...you can’t.

More because you need to relax, in fear of the little life growing inside you, you take the tea and take a sip.

Thor knows just how you like it.

He’s watching you, staring. He's full of self-loathing and what you'd once thought was love for you. Concern emanates off of him.

He reaches out, and for a moment you think he might take your hand.

You flinch, pulling both your hands onto your lap, but Thor’s hand only meets the edge of the plate of swedish dream cookies you’d bought on your honeymoon. 

He pushes it towards you, and your heart aches painfully. This agony is unbearable.

Your lip quivers again, unable to contain the sorrow of what your marriage is now facing. You know just as he does that you're at an impasse. Tonight things between you will change.

For the better? For worse?

Thor loves you. You can see that. You saw it the moment he showed up, smiling and so happy to see you that his electric blue eye was beaming.

It was that love that made you so angry. It’s why you shouted when you’d promised yourself that when he came, you wouldn’t raise your voice.

Heimdall had been nice enough to give you warning this morning that Thor would be coming today and that nothing would deter him from seeing you.

You’d been so angry when you’d gotten the call, but you’d talked to Dr. Wilson about staying calm and she'd pointed out that having all of these unresolved feelings would do the baby more harm than good.

While deciding to resolve this today, choosing to stay calm had failed dramatically.

“Please, love, eat something,” Thor begs. "You're shaking. I know you've eaten nothing all day."

How the hell can he tell?! Was Dr. Wilson spying for him?

Even she'd been unable to force more than a few bites of a sandwich into your stomach. You've been dreading this confrontation all day.

Now that it’s here, it's worse than you imagined.

You hate how much hearing the pain in his voice also hurts you. You don’t want to feel any kind of sympathy for him right now. After what he said…

You eat because you’re worried about the baby. Not because Thor is asking.

One cookie is enough to help your queasy stomach feel better, a sip of tea settles your frayed nerves.

You relax a little, the tension in your body partially gone.

Neither you nor Thor say anything for a while and you’re grateful for the silence. You need lots of time to think.

While you think, you eat.

Cookie after cookie as your stomach groans in relief of finally being fed. Not exactly nutritious but it's something.

Despite your body's reaction to the unexpected junk food, the revelation that Jane isn’t pregnant after all is the only thing that you can really focus on.

You'd know she would try something. Not this though. You'd expected a pass at Thor. You'd expected her to try and get him back and you'd been so sure about his feelings for you that you'd been sure nothing would happen.

You hadn't expected her to find a way to reach in and pull it all up by its roots.

Finally, Thor clears his throat. There's and eager shine to his eye now, curiosity needing answers. In this moment you realize that his mind is filled with something else. Something much happier to think about that while it does bring you joy, you can’t share in that joy with Thor yet. Not after everything.

“Is it true?” he asks, the corners of his lips curved and the set of his brow eager. He can't help it. “Are you really pregnant?”

You meet his gaze and reach up to wipe the last of your tears away.

“I’m about three months? A little over. It would have happened during our honeymoon.”

Your explanation brings a smile to his face and he’s so beautiful you find yourself hardening again in defense.

"Your Asgardian blood was making it difficult for my doctors to confirm the pregnancy. The first was negative. The second, inconclusive, but then negative. The third was also inconclusive but this one didn't change to negative so they tried some other things and it finally showed positive.

"They tested my blood over and over. It’s real."

This is what both of you have been wanting since before you were married. You’d wanted to give him an heir and he’d wanted one. You’d wanted to start a family and he’d been desperate for the same.

This is the moment the two of you have been dreaming of and now that it’s here, it’s nothing like you’d pictured.

The joy you’d felt on your trip to the war room to give him the news is lost on you now. Tainted.

“Are-are you not happy?”

“How can you ask me that?” you frown, hostile resentment tainting your features.

He deflates at your tone and you almost regret letting how you feel show so openly.

Almost.

Thor’s face pales and he looks down at the island, his own cup still empty.

Because you do feel bad, though you don’t regret letting him know how angry you are, you get up and pull a beer from the fridge.

Placing it in front of him, you take your seat again.

Thor’s face floods with hope.

"The only reason you're here is because Heimdall knew you'd come. He saw that you were decided and would stop at nothing to come here but if he hadn't given me the warning, you'd be standing outside on the porch banging on the door asking me to let you in. You need to know that.."

Even though the hope in his eyes had made you so angry just a moment ago, as it disappears, you feel a surge of grief.

"I don't understand," Thor begins softly, both hands reaching across the island towards yours wrapped securely around your tea cup. "Why are you so angry, cherub?"

He's not putting it together? Does he seriously not see how what he did is a problem?

"I've told you that Jane is not pregnant so there will be no child and even before I'd found out, I had made my choice to stay with you. These are good things, aren't they?"

The wonder in his voice is real. The agony of his confusion is real.

Somehow you need to make him understand.

You scoff, trying hard not to be cynical after the blow you've taken to your pride.

"Do you remember the day we got married?"

"Vividly," Thor nods and attempts a smile.

A quick stern glare from you settles him down.

"Do you remember welcoming me into your house? Do you have any idea what becoming a member of your family has meant to me?

"I have lived my life alone, Thor. I had no one. From the day my parents died to the moment I agreed to marry you, there was not a single person who I belonged to who also belonged to me.

"Marrying you gave me a home. It gave me people to call my own. It gave me a kingdom full of loving and loyal subjects.

"Marrying you took my loneliness and destroyed it. I had a brothers, sisters, and a husband who I thought loved me as one of his own. I thought you had accepted me as part of your family until the day I died."

You sigh, voice tight and always on the verge of breaking into tears.

"I have, cherub. You are my everything!" Thor’s interruption doesn't phase you this time.

You keep talking as if he'd said nothing.

"And when I've finally done it, when we've finally got what we wanted, you throw me away."

"No!" Thor rises and moves around the island towards you.

This time you don't stop him because nothing he says or does will change your mind. Nothing will fix this.

He sweeps you into his arms, pulling you close so that you have to look up at his face from your spot in your seat. His massive hands caress the sides of your face as his pleasant warmth chases away the horrible nightmares you’ve had all week.

But his arms, his touch, can’t chase away the break in your heart. It can’t fix the pain that feels etched into your veins. Your sinew is rewritten with the agony of his fleeting choice to leave you. Nothing will ever be the same.

“I didn’t throw you away, I was confused. I didn’t know what to do or what the best course of action was. I should have come to you. I should have told you about Jane and I should have consulted with you, my wife, my Queen before making any rash decisions.

“I know that I did wrong, but believe me when I tell you that I love you more than my own life. I can’t imagine my life without you, cherub. I’m sorry that I have caused you such distress. I am sorry that I made you think, even for one second, that I could make my way through this existence without you.

“I love you. And I am never letting you go.”

Your heart is unmoved. Even as he stares down at you with his eye clear and sure. The set of his jaw is firm, and his hands keep stroking your cheeks, temples, and scalp as you watch the fire in him fade.

Slowly, he realizes that the damage is done.

It takes him a long time. His body falls, shoulders slumping, arms not so tight around you, hands a little more gentle. It’s the set of his lips that tells you when he’s accepted it. That he’s broken you and your marriage and there is no repair here.

Not now.

“What will you do?” he asks, hands gliding down along the sides of your neck, shoulders, arms, and elbows where he finally lets go and moves back around the island to take his seat again, throwing himself down in defeat as his hand wraps around his beer.

“I’m still your wife, Thor,” you sigh, turning to look at your cup of tea. “I am still Queen of New Asgard. I’ll do my job as best as I can, from here.”

“Here?” he asks, shocked.

“I can’t go back to the palace. Not right away. I need...I meant it when I said that I needed a break.”

“From me?” Thor guesses, and you can see his heartbreaking.

“From us, yes.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “A few weeks? Months? Years?”

He looks more devastated the longer you speak.

“I don’t know how long it will take me to trust you again. When you told Loki that you’d get an annulment and make me out to be the problem by my not giving you any kids, you took any faith and confidence I had in us and your love for me and flushed it down the toilet.

“I can’t just pretend that didn’t happen. Even though we have nothing to worry about now, I can’t just forget the way I felt. I’m gonna need time.”

The war raging within Thor right now is painful to watch. You can safely assume that he’s almost refusing to go another day without you, much less weeks, months, or years. 

You can also see the regret he’s feeling. The anger. It passes quickly though, and Thor takes another long drink from his beer, draining the bottle before he sets it aside.

He reaches up to wipe at his fuzzy lips, his beard scratchy as he breathes in deeply.

He meets your gaze and nods, “I will give you whatever you need. I will send you a guard. I don’t want you here alone.”

You’re not about to oppose the protection. Not with the baby on the way.

“You should probably make the announcement of the baby. And give some excuse about me staying away. Our people deserve to know. They’ve been waiting too.”

“Mm.” Thor agrees. “What shall I tell the others?”

“Loki already knows. He’s known since I came here.”

“What?!”

“Hey, no!” you frown at him, anger tinging your words. “You can’t be angry at Loki for doing as I asked. I’ve been alone up here waiting to know whether you’re going to leave me or not. He only did what I needed.”

Thor’s anger passes through him in phases. In seconds, he’s calm again, but still breathing through flared nostrils.

“Why did you not tell me? If you’d told me sooner-”

“If I’d told you sooner then I wouldn’t know if you were with me because you love me or because the baby was finally coming. I didn’t want to live the rest of my life never knowing whether your sticking by me in this marriage is because I was finally having our kid. That’s not the kind of life that I want for myself.

“I’m not sorry that I didn’t tell you, Thor. Because even if I can’t trust you, at least I know whether you’d decided not to leave me before you knew I was pregnant.”

Thor’s face is full of sorrow. He’s coming to terms with everything as quickly as he can since you’re not giving him much choice. Are you wrong to put some distance between the two of you?

Should you forgive and forget?

Part of you, the part that loves the man you married, wants to reach out and touch his cheek. You want to tell him that you love him and that nothing will ever change that. You want to celebrate the future you have growing inside you and revel in the fact that Jane’s lie is over and move on with your lives.

The bigger part of you can’t trust his words. Can’t trust his touch. In a few moments, Thor had torn apart the truths of every caress and declaration that he’d made since you got married.

The bigger part of you knows that you can’t trust him. The bigger part of you knows that he could hurt you again. He might very well rip your heart in two for good the next time, and what kind of life can you have like that?

No. As much as your heart loves him, your brain is telling you to play this cautiously from here on out.

“I’ll come to any functions I need to. I’ll make sure I’m there on your arm. But don’t expect things to be the same between us Thor.”

He nods in defeat, “Can I fix this? Is there anything I might do to prove to you that my love is real?”

“It’s not a question of me not believing that you love me,” you explain, sighing lightly as you come to these realizations yourself as Thor makes you face the inevitabilities you’ve been avoiding all week.

You’ve tried hard to keep from pondering the future with or without him. Now that he’s asking, you can’t avoid it anymore.

“I know that you can’t put me before your throne. I know that your people have to come first. I’ve known that since I married you and when I talked to Loki and David about what happened they both told me what I already know.

“You have responsibilities to our people first and foremost and any choices, whether you want to make them or not, are made for them. I can never be first for you. I know that. My mind knows that. It’s honorable that you will always do right by your people.

“But my heart can’t accept that,” you’ve been trying to keep from crying again but as you admit your insecurity aloud, your heart clenches painfully drawing from your eyes a welling of tears. “Because I’ve fallen in love with you completely, Thor. I never knew that loving someone could be this terrifying and painful. Just the thought that you’d decided to make our marriage disappear as if it had never happened ripped me to pieces and I don’t know how to come back from that.”

You sob and Thor leans over the island to take your hand. You don’t pull away this time. You let him give you this small bit of comfort because you need it. Your heart, the fact that he wants to touch you, needs it.

“Even if it was only for a moment, you left me. I want to be first for you. I want to be the only thing that matters. And I can’t be. And I know that. Which makes me feel like such shit because I shouldn’t be asking you for this. I know that you can’t give it to me.

“It’s why Jane told you no. Along with her job, I know that it’s the reason that she couldn’t marry you. She knew that for you, she would always come second to New Asgard.

“I knew that too. When I agreed to marry you, I knew that you’d have to do things for them first. But I love you so much and I-it sucks that I know now if you have to choose between me or your people, you’ll choose your people.

“It’s right. You should. But it fucking sucks and it hurts too much.”

You’re full on crying now and Thor gets up, but you raise your hand to stop him. With a shake of your head he sits back down.

“So…” you sniffle. “What you can do for me is give me the distance I need to work through this. I need to come to terms with the fact that after our baby is born, I’ll be third. I need to just learn and accept that no matter how much you say you love me, you can never choose me.

“Can you give me that? Can you give me space?”

As you meet his gaze, his intense unrelenting stare, you can see him warring with himself. You can see the confusion and the indecision. You can see the agony of what you’re asking of him but somehow he manages to nod.

His own eye waters and after a second nod, his tears spill over to trail across his cheek and lose themselves in his beard.

“I’m sorry, cherub,” he grieves. “I never meant to hurt you like this.”

“I know that, Thor. But I have to find out how much of myself I can invest in our marriage. Because if loving you like this means I have to feel this kind of pain over and over again, I don’t think I can keep loving you. Not like this.”

Your words hurt him and you regret them, but you can’t take them back because they’re truth. You need to guard yourself and you aren’t going to apologize for putting yourself first when no one else in your life will.

The silence is never ending.

The two of you sit sniffling at the island for what feels like hours. Finally, your stomach rumbles loudly and Thor springs up from his seat to the fridge.

He starts pulling out an array of ingredients that you don’t pay too much mind to.

He fills the house with the smells of chicken, paprika, rosemary, lemon, and some other spices you can’t pick out. It makes your stomach growl more loudly and at least with his mind and hands busy making your dinner, he stops crying and that at least gives you a little bit of a break from the horror you’ve been feeling at causing him so much pain with your choice to distance yourself from him.

“Might I stay the night?” he checks, surprising you a bit by the question.

“On the couch,” you whisper, unable to speak any louder.

The idea of him sleeping in the same space but not next to you is unbearable, but somehow you find a way to deal.

His hand stutters over the pan but after a moment he goes back to cooking.

“The couch is fine,” he agrees. “Whatever you need, love.”

And even though his words tell you he’s fine, you know him well enough to recognize the depression in his stoic gaze.

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Chapter 6: Let’s Play a Game (Overprotection)

Prev

AO3

Marinette ended up not staying for dinner. She talked to Bruce for a little bit, but he had to leave for some WE emergency and Marinette wasn’t really up to bonding with the boys- her brothers- yet. But that was fine. It wasn’t like she was desperate to get to know the man and wouldn’t be able to after this trip because she had to stay in Paris because of Hawkmoth. No, she wasn’t upset. Not at all. It didn’t hurt her feelings. Nope.

---

Walking into Madame Soleil's Wax Museum with Adrien by her side, Marinette is hit with a major wave of deja vu. And not a good deja vu. No, the memories of the last time she was in a wax museum with Adrien were awful, humiliating and- feeling a hand wrap around hers pulls her from her spiraling thoughts. Glancing down, Marinette tries (and fails) to hide her grin. Adrien is holding her hand. Adrien is holding her hand!

“Hey Marinette!” A familiar voice calls, a hand squeezing her shoulder, making Marinette squeal and whirl around.

“Dick? What are you doing here?” She asks, frowning at the boy- her brother- as he stands there with a huge smile.

“Well I heard that a new wax figure is being revealed today, and I thought I might come and see it.” He says with a nonchalant shrug.

“Really? Who?” Adrien asks. Dick’s smile twitches slightly as he glances at Marinette, making her frown. Was he seriously about to play the overprotective big brother card? Really?

“Jagged Stone.” Dick finally says, glancing at their entwined hands. Marinette tries hard not to roll her eyes. Come on, her crush is finally holding her hand and her brother (who she’s known for a day!) is seriously trying to ruin that for her?

“Oh cool! Do you think he’ll come to Gotham to see it, Mari?” Adrien asks.

“I think he’s definitely scheduled to make an appearance in Gotham in the next couple days. He’s picking up his new suit in person.” She whispers, grinning at the idea of seeing her “Uncle” in person again. He’d been touring for several months and she hadn’t been able to see him for awhile, just the occasional video call.

“So! What figures did you guys want to check out first?” Dick asks, wedging himself between the two and forcing Adrien to drop her hand. Glaring at her brother, Marinette scoffs when Dick just smiles innocently.

“The hall of heroes and villains sounds cool.” Adrien suggests, looking around Dick to see Marinette.

“Hmm. Okay, but if the Nightwing figure is in his disco costume, I reserve the right to melt the statue.” She says, frowning at the choked noise Dick makes. “Are you okay?” She adds.

“Oh, uh, yeah, yeah I’m fine. What’s 1so bad about that costume?” He asks, a hurt expression on his face.

“Have you even seen it? The only worse costume is Riddler’s.” Marinette says, adding a shudder for dramatic effect. Walking past the local celebrities room and the pop stars room, Marinette’s eyes widen as their small group walks into the hall of heroes and villains. Walking away from Dick and Adrien, she’s almost instantly drawn to the Batman figure. She reads the little plaque about the artist and frowns, turning to Dick who had moved to stand next to her.

“I thought it’d be taller.” She says, scrunching her eyebrows in confusion when Dick starts choking on air, gasping for breath as broken chuckles flood out of him. “Ookay then.” She mutters, turning and walking back towards the villains. Nightwing was, luckily, depicted in his most recent costume. As was Robin. Which meant the only real fashion tragedy (besides the god awful helmet Red Hood wore) was the Riddler. Pulling her sketchbook out, Marinette circles the wax figure, occasionally making notes and sketching out slight adjustments to the man’s costume.

“His costume might be terrible, but it’s still better than half of the akumas.” Adrien whispers, leaning over her shoulder. Marinette looks up at him, eyes wide as her face heats up with a blush.

“I, uh, um, yes. Yeah.” She says, trying not to wince at her lack of speaking skills. “I mean, at least we can rule out any fashion designer in Paris as Hawkmoth. Because if Hawkmoth was a designer, that’d almost be a bigger crime.” She adds, smiling as Adrien laughs.

“Good to know you’re not moonlighting as Hawkmoth, m’lady.” He says with a mock bow. Marinette snorts, then covers her mouth, embarrassment rushing over her. Adrien just shakes his head, wrapping an arm over her shoulders.

“In case you forgot, we’ve definitely seen each other at our most embarrassing.” He says, making her groan.

“Oh god, no. I tied us up with my yoyo!” She moans, turning and burying her face into his chest so she doesn’t have to look at him anymore. Her face heats up more when she feels him chuckle and wrap his arms around her.

“I’ve always thought that was paw-sitively adorable.” He says, laughing when she groans again. She pulls away slightly, looking up at him with a timid smile. He smiles back, starts to lean forward and-

“Hey guys! I heard they’re about to unveil the Jagged Stone figure. Come on, let’s go! Don’t wanna miss it.” Dick says, grabbing each of their hands and pulling them towards the exist (and successfully separating them again). Marinette tries not to glare at Dick. She’s about to have one less brother.

---

Dick Grayson wasn’t used to having a little sister that he could protect. Sure, he had a little sister. Cas was awesome, but she could also kick his ass without breaking a sweat. No, he’d never had a little sister to protect. Someone he could watch out for and support. But now….now he has Marinette. And he’ll be damned if he lets some little punk take advantage of his little sister. Ignoring Marinette’s glare, he positions himself right between her and...the boy. He’d need to ask Timmy to do a background check on the kid later. Especially if he thought he was good enough for Marinette.

“So are you guys big Jagged fans?” He asks, trying to pull the two back into a conversation. He narrows his eyes at the smile the kid gives Marinette. It’s too...adoring. Too much. She’s only...what, fourteen? Much too young to date. Especially this kid.

“Mari’s a bit of a fan, I think. But, personally, I much prefer Jagged’s designer.” He says, and Dick turns to him, missing the way Marinette’s face turns bright red.

“Are you talking about MDC? I love them! Their work is amazing! And Jagged Stone says that he’ll never have another designer. I heard that there’s a possibility of them opening their commissions again. God, I hope they do. I’d do anything for something made by MDC.” Dick rambles with a wide smile, deciding to ignore the kid for a minute in order to ramble about his favorite designer. As the group walks into the pop star room, Dick steps back and glares at the kid. He’d stepped just behind Dick and was apparently trying to hold Marinette’s hand again. Not on his watch. No siree. No one’s gonna hurt his little sister.

---

Bruce sighs, running his hands through his hair. He’d been checking the street cameras in Paris, trying to figure out what time Ladybug and Chat Noir patrol so that he can set up a meeting. Try and offer help, or maybe even offer to take control of the situation. Anything to get rid of Hawkmoth. But instead, it was like the heroes didn’t exist. He’d read reports of the heroes patrolling before, so why were they so quiet this week? The only akuma from the past couple days wasn’t even taken care of by both of them. Ladybug did it alone, and seemed worse for the wear when she came out of the battle. Where was Chat Noir? And why did it seem as though they had gone into hiding?

---

Marinette was five seconds away from committing her first murder. Okay, probably her only murder, unless her other brothers decide to be as involved in her love life as Dick is. Because Dick won’t have the chance to be a problem for much longer. Because Marinette was honestly going to kill him. Right as she turned to finally yell at him, and tell him to knock it off, the lights flickered. She pauses her tirade, glancing to gauge Dick’s reaction to see if this is normal. And if his worried glances back at her are anything to go by, this is not normal.

“Let’s play a game! Solve my riddles and you all can leave freely, but make a mistake and someone will pay greatly! Take one out and scratch my head, I am now black but once was red. What am I?” A man’s voice asks, Marinette frowning as the Riddler walks in, a wide smile on his face. Ten goons walk in behind him, all of them carrying guns. She was used to the akuma attacks almost every day, but didn’t Gotham’s rogues have anything better to do than attack every place her class went? With guns? Come on. Riddler smirks and points at Adrien with his cane.

“A match.” She blurts out, ignoring Dick frantically shaking his head. If nothing else, she should be able to work with Adrien to get everyone out. But she knew his style. And riddles weren’t really his thing.

“Oh goody. We have a volunteer. Tell me, what has to be broken before you can use it?” Riddler asks, stalking towards her. Thinking for a second, Marinette tries to suppress a smile.

“An egg.” She says. Riddler narrows his eyes.

“I have 13 hearts, but no lungs or stomach. What am I?” He asks, Marinette frowns, running through possible answers in her head.

“A deck of cards.” She finally says.

“Buzzy, come over here and hold onto our friend.” Riddler says, gesturing to one of the goons. The man comes over and grabs Marinette’s arm roughly, she winces. That’ll definitely bruise.

“I answered your riddles.” Marinette says, deciding that now's as good a time as any to start distracting the man.

“And how did you answer them so quickly?” He asks, the frustration clear on his face.

“What do you mean? Were they supposed to be hard?” Marinette taunts, ignoring the choked sound Dick makes behind her. She knew what she was doing. She did. She had to.

“Why you-” Riddler starts, stepping forward and pulling his hand back as if to hit her. Squeezing her eyes shut, Marinette waits for the slap. The slap never comes. Opening her eyes, Marinette’s jaw drops when she sees the Riddler’s fist held tightly in Dick’s hand.

“Don’t. Touch. Her.” He says lowly, a dark look on his face. Well that was unexpected. Riddler opens his mouth, probably to start spouting more riddles or other nonsense, when the goons blocking the exits drop. Noticing Red Robin and Red Hood picking off the other goons, Marinette throws her elbow back into the gut of the goon holding her. Not waiting for him to recover, Marinette stomps his foot and twists out of his grip. Grabbing his arm, Marinette manages to yank the man off balance and toss him to the ground. A hand on her shoulder makes her jump back and prepare to hit the person.

“Whoa, whoa, it’s okay ma’am.” The voice attached to the hand says. Marinette whirls around, ready to tell off the person, but immediately stops when she sees Red Robin.

“Sorry!” She yelps, jumping away from him. And she was too. She was determined to hit the person who grabbed her shoulder, so locked into battle mode, but she had managed to stop herself. Glancing around the room, Marinette notices Dick talking to Red Hood, his usual smile back on his face. That’s good. That’s normal, that’s right. The sudden blaring of the akuma alarm makes Marinette want to scream in frustration. Really, right now? It’s definitely already dark in Paris which means- Chat Noir. Ignoring everyone else, Marinette runs over to Adrien and grabs his hand.

“Akuma?” He asks, his voice low. She nods and tugs him towards the bathrooms, unaware of the eyes following them out.

Next

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks

[yelena-bellova]

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

chapter three - Chapter Four: Madripoor - chapter five

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n, Sam and Bucky pay an eventful visit to Helmut Zemo in Berlin, heading to Madripoor soon after to get answers about the serum.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: spoilers for episode.3, angst, violence, description of injuries, a few crumbs for the slow burn, breaking the law and looking good doing it

A/N: These chapters always end up being so long lol. I was going to include the nightclub scene but it would’ve made it too long so sorry, it’ll have to wait a few more days. Forgive my shitty Russian translations, I’m on Google Translate and that’s not saying a lot. 

----

“Not that it makes a difference, but I still don’t like this.” I’d voiced my displeasure about meeting with Zemo several times since we’d arrived in Germany. Even though we were already being led through the high security Berlin prison hallways, I still felt the urge to state my opinion. 

The guard that was guiding us gestured towards a door, “He’s just through the corridor.”

“Give us a sec,” Bucky said, the three of us coming to a halt in the middle of the hall. “I’m gonna go in alone.” “Why?” Sam asked.

“You’re an Avenger, you know how he feels about that,” Bucky looked to me, “You, I’m trying to keep as far away from him as possible.”

“It’s not like you two were known for frolickin’ in the sun together,” Sam remarked.

“I’m gonna say it again,” I took an assertive step forward, “I don’t like this.”

“He was obsessed with HYDRA,” Bucky pushed, “We have a history together. Trust me, I got it.”

Taking my cue from Sam, who didn’t fight him any more, I nervously watched Bucky stalk down the hallway to the corridor that led to our possible next step.

“Is he really okay?” I asked, watching Bucky’s figure until he disappeared, “I feel like we’re going a little too far with this.” “He’s invested, which means he’s desperate,” Sam answered, leaning his back against the wall, “This is a little too much though.” 

I copied his posture and we stood in silence, the occasional guard passing by. “What happened last night after I left the room? C’mon, you come out crying and you thought I was gonna let it go?” “Bucky and I were just…” I sighed, remembering the change that had happened between our two conversations, “Learning to get along. I told him about Steve, that’s never fun to relive.” “Ah,” Sam nodded, “Can I ask you something?” 

“Hm?” “You’re not mad at me that I gave up the shield, are you?”

My brows knitted together as I looked over at him, “Why would I be mad? Your decision wouldn’t have changed even if I was, would it?” “No, it wouldn’t have. But you were close to Steve too, you care about his legacy,” he went on, “We’re all angry about Walker. I don’t care if Bucky’s upset at me, but I always care if you are.” “Someone ever tell you you care too much sometimes?” I playfully nudged his sneaker with my own, “Of course I’m not mad, you know I support you no matter what. You made the right decision for you and you have nothing to apologize for. Bucky and even Steve don’t need to understand why you chose to give it up. Would it have been cool to say that my brother is Captain America?” I coaxed a laugh out of him, “Of course, but it doesn’t change how I see you. I’m just proud to say my brother is Sam Wilson.” He poked me with his elbow and smiled, “Now I remember why I keep you around.” “Y/n Y/l/n, Falcon’s Ego Booster.” We were sharing a laugh when Bucky came back around the corner. “That was quick,” I observed. He’d been in there five minutes tops.

“We’ve got our next stop.”

————

“What are you talking about? You wanna break Zemo outta jail?” Sam questioned in the dark, “Where are we, Buck? Have you lost your mind?”

“We have no leads, no moves, nothing,” Bucky replied, shining his flashlight around to try and find the power switch. I couldn’t clearly make out where he had brought us to, he’d brought us through the back door of the building. “So because we’ve hit one dead end, you want to spring one of the most dangerous men in the world out of prison?” I asked, shining my flashlight at Bucky causing him to throw a hand up to shield his eyes, “Bucky, I don’t-“ “Like this,” he finished, “I got that, but we’ve got eight Super Soldiers on the loose.” “Zemo’s gonna miss with our minds, especially yours,” Sam interjected, “No offense.” I made out Bucky’s silhouette reaching up a beam, a loud click of a switch and the lights began to turn on. “Offense,” he scowled.

With the lights on, we could finally see that we were in an auto shop. I was glad to be out of the prison but I wasn’t seeing the correlation between it and freeing Zemo.

“Super Soldiers go against everything he believes in,” Bucky continued, “He is crazy, but he still has a code.” “I’ve been on the wrong side of that code and so have you,” Sam countered, I’d heard in detail about the havoc Zemo had caused and the ramifications of his actions had caused Sam and Steve to become fugitives. Never mind what he’d done to Bucky…”He blew up the UN, he killed King T’Chaka and framed you for it. Did you forget that? You think the Wakandans forgot about it? It’s a rhetorical question, they didn’t. I know why this matters to you, but it’s pushing you off the deep end.”

Bucky stood in front of us now, “We don’t know how they’re gettin’ the serum. We don’t even know how many of them there are,” Sam turned his back in frustration, “Look, let me just walk you two through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”

“What did you do?” Sam asked suspiciously, turning halfway to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“I didn’t…” Bucky’s looked away briefly, “Do anything.”

“Then by all means,” I leaned up against a beam and crossed my arms, not believing him at all, “Let’s ride the hypothetical train.” Bucky frowned at my sarcasm before launching into it, “The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element. Now, in this lockup, it’s nine to one, prisoners to guards. And if two prisoners start fighting, then the protocol says four guards have to respond.” “So why would two prisoners randomly start fighting at that moment?” Sam asked.

“Who knows? There could be many reasons…But the point is, these things escalate. Lockdown procedures would have to be initiated and with all those bodies flying around left and right, wouldn’t be hard to slip down a hallway or two. And if the fire alarm got tripped while the prisoners were being separated, someone could use the chaos to their advantage.”

“My gut is sounding off every alarm it has right now,” I commented from my place across from Bucky.

“Yeah, I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this, this is unnatural,” Sam replied finally, “Are you- and where are we, man?” A nearby door closing caused us to turn our attention towards it, a silhouette appearing soon after through a curtain. The shadow became a man and walked through the cloth divider wearing the face I’d had etched in my brain since the day it hit the news.

“You son of a bitch,” I mumbled, creating a ball of energy quickly with my hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sam’s voice rose, walking with me towards the man, “What are you doin’ here?” Bucky was quick to throw himself in front of us, “No, listen. I didn’t want to tell you ‘cause I knew neither of you would let this happen.” “What the hell did you do?” I exclaimed.

“We need him,” Bucky said. Sam pointed to Zemo, “You’re going back to prison!”

“If I may,” the Sokovian man began, removing the hat of his stolen prison guard uniform.

“NO!” the three of us yelled at the same time. He hung his head, “Apologies…” Bucky turned back to Sam, “When Steve refused to sign the Sokovia Accords, you backed him. You broke the law, and you stuck your neck out for me,” when Sam averted his gaze, Bucky chased it, “I’m asking you to do it again.” 

“And what about her?” Sam gestured to me and the ball of energy I still had formed in my palms, “What happens when she breaks the law?” Bucky’s pleading eyes drifted to me, “He’s our only shot at getting any answers.” My mind was wrestling with itself, his rightness was inevitably going to come at a cost we would all have to pay. On a technicality, yes, I could plead innocent to freeing Zemo. A coconspirator charge, I wouldn’t be so lucky with. But stopping the Flag Smashers meant saving lives and that wasn’t something I could walk away from. I deformed the energy in my hands in cautious surrender, “I’m already breakin’ the law by going against the accords, I need to make it worth it at least.” Sam shot me an exasperated glance, but he didn’t fight me.

“I really think I’m invaluable…” Zemo began from his corner.

“Shut up…” Sam warned, effectively shutting him up. Sam thought it all over for a second before pressing his flashlight to Bucky’s chest, “Okay. If we do this, you don’t make a move without our permission.” Zemo shrugged, “Fair.”

The three of us shared an uneasy look, there was no going back now. “Okay, Zemo, where do we start?”

“Follow me,” he smiled, leading the way out of the auto shop and expecting us to follow. Sam went first, eager to keep his eye on Zemo at all times while Bucky and I brought up the rear.

“I didn’t want to have to go this route,” he said from beside me as if he owed me some explanation for his actions. I sighed, trying to shut off the part of my brain that was screaming at me, “Just be right.”

We maneuvered through a few corridors until we hit a room filled with beautiful antique cars. “So our first move is grand theft auto?” Sam asked. “These are mine,” Zemo corrected, “Collected by family over the generations. I spent years hunting people HYDRA recruited to recreate the serum. Because once it’s out there, someone can create an army of people…like the Avengers,” he dug through one of the cars to pull out a bag and coat, “I ended the Winter Soldier program once before. I have no intention to leave my work unfinished.” My eyes unavoidably flickered to Bucky, observing his reaction to hearing his old code name. He simply watched the man continue speaking. “To do this, we’ll have to scale a ladder of lowlifes.”

“Well, join the party. We’ve already started…” Sam commented.

“First stop is a woman named Selby,” Zemo stated as he headed for the exit, “Mid-level fence I still have a line on. From there, we climb.” 

Sam, Bucky and I left a gaping distance between us and him, we were still highly suspicious and I had a feeling we would be until our temporary partnership came to an end.

————

Zemo had gotten word to somebody that we’d be meeting them at a private airport in Berlin and flying to someplace called Madripoor. Somehow we’d made the journey without being recognized, even those of us who were wanted across the globe. “So all this time you’ve been rich?” Sam asked as we made our way towards the private plane.

“I’m a Baron, Sam,” Zemo answered, “My family was royalty until your friends destroyed my country.” 

Zemo greeted the man standing outside the plane, who was dressed like a butler, in Sokovian. “Well,” I crossed my arms and watched one of the world’s most dangerous men exchange cheek kisses, “If we’re going to work with a criminal, at least we picked one that comes with transportation.” “Please,” Zemo said, gesturing for us to follow him up the plane’s steps. Sam awkwardly bowed to the butler and headed up. Bucky extended a hand towards the jet for me to go ahead of him before following closely behind.

When we filed into the plane, Sam and Zemo were already seated. I moved to take the chair across from the baron, wanting to keep as close an eye on him as I could. Bucky’s flesh arm reached out quickly and grabbed my shoulder, I turned to question him and met his wary expression. “Sit with Sam,” he muttered quietly, our faces close enough that I could feel his breath as he’d spoken. It dawned on me that he wanted me to have the safer position. I answered with a nod, maneuvering around him to sit across from Sam. Even though his hand had left my arm, I could still feel its print through my jacket.

We had been flying for maybe twenty minutes when Zemo’s butler, Oeznik, came in carrying a glass of champagne for Zemo and offering to whip up some food. It astounded me how to the world, he was evil yet to his servants, he was a joy. “You don’t know what it’s like to be locked in a cell,” the baron said before looking over at my brother, “Oh, that’s right. You do.”

Sam bypassed the jab remarkably, “Why don’t you tell us about where we’re going?”

“I’m sorry, I was just fascinated by this,” Zemo held up a book, “I don’t know what to call it, but this part seems to be important. Who is Nakajima?”

Not two seconds after the name had left his lips, Bucky out of his seat with his metal hand wrapped around Zemo’s neck. My heart stopped as I watched him lean over the man threateningly. “If you touch that book again,” he growled, “I’ll kill you.” This was a side of Bucky I had yet to see, the one that straddled the line between his dark past and his true self. As he sat back down, tucking the book in his pocket and refusing to meet my eyes, I could tell he wasn’t pleased with how he’d acted. I wasn’t in a place to criticize but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been slightly worried when his fingers hit Zemo’s skin.

“I’m sorry,” Zemo said, “I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier.” “Don’t push it,” Bucky rasped, collecting himself after the scene.

“I’ve seen that book,” Sam spoke up, “It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man, he wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What’d you think?” “I like ’40’s music,” Bucky shrugged and looked out the window, “So…” “You didn’t like it?” Sam exclaimed.

“I liked it,” Bucky replied unconvincingly.

“It is a masterpiece, James,” Zemo chimed in, his hands forming a triangle, “Complete, comprehensive…It captures the African-American experience.” While my brows raised at the European’s surprising education, Sam’s furrowed. “He’s out of line, but he’s right. It’s great, everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

Bucky shook his head, “I like Marvin Gaye.” “Steve adored Marvin Gaye.” “He did,” I chuckled, reminiscing back to only last year, “Played him almost anytime I got in a car with him.” “You must have really looked up to Steve,” Zemo said, “But I realized something when I met him. The danger with people like him, America’s Super Soldiers, is that we put them on pedestals.” “Watch your step, Zemo…” Sam warned. “They become symbols. Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there,” he shrugged, “Cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought,” Zemo turned his attention to Bucky, “You remember that, right?” As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull? That is why we’re going to Madripoor.” “What’s up with Madripoor?” Sam looked between the two men, “You guys talk about it like it’s Skull Island.”

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago,” Bucky grumbled, “It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s.” “It’s kept its lawless ways, but we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves,” Zemo’s unsettling eyes moved back to Bucky, “James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.” 

With the way Bucky’s expression had changed in mere seconds from complacent to tortured, it didn’t take long to decode what Zemo was insinuating. “No,” I blurted out, “That’s not fair to ask of him.” “I admire your devotion, Y/n,” Zemo complimented with his lips to his champagne flute, taking a quick sip, “But you know nothing of how Madripoor works. If you want to get to Selby, we must have protection. More than that, we must have leverage. James can provide us both by simply playing a part.” “Devo-?” I shook my head, sidestepping Zemo’s comment, “That’s not playing a part, that’s like reliving every nightmare you’ve ever had. I-it’s like-“ “Y/n,” I turned to see Bucky’s chair rotated towards me, looking helpless and determined all at once, “We need in.” “Yeah, but…” I started to protested before seeing his eyes, those ocean blue eyes I was growing to feel comforted by begging me to let the subject go. I clenched my own y/e/c ones shut in frustration, “Okay.” “Now that that’s settled,” Zemo stood from his seat, “I will find us something to change into, we will need to blend in where we’re going.” ——

The silver dress Zemo had chosen for me was…it made me wonder just what kind of scene we were planning to enter. It was more revealing than anything I typically wore, but gorgeous nonetheless and fit perfectly.

As I was finishing my makeup in the bathroom of the plane, I had to take a second to steel myself for what was to come. This wasn’t just dallying with Super Soldiers any more, this was dancing with the criminal underworld. Zemo hadn’t told us yet the roles we were playing, only that we needed to stay in character at all cost. I had never felt more out of my depth, but had no choice but to rise to the occasion. Giving myself one last check in the mirror, I unlocked and exited the bathroom. 

“Okay, I hope whoever I’m playing is bad with heels,” I held up the elaborate shoes Zemo had matched to my dress, “Because there’s no way I’m going to be graceful in these.” Sam looked up from tying his dress shoes, dressed in a maroon suit patterned with yellow circles. His eyes scanned my outfit unapprovingly. “Uh uh,” he protested, going full protective big brother, “Nope. It shows too much.” “It doesn’t matter what it shows,” I said, bending over to strap on the shoes, “It’s what I’ve got.” “She’s right,” Zemo chimed in, putting his jacket on, “You two are supposed to be rich, glamorous travelers of the world. You need to look the part,” he nodded towards me, “You wear it well.” I politely smiled at the baron and looked up to Bucky, perched in the far corner of the jet. His gaze was fixed on me, eyes quickly traveling down my body before quickly locking with mine. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his plush lips parted ever so slightly. I found myself just as drawn into him as he seemed to be with me, for a few seconds it was just the two of us shutting our surroundings out. It was…something. “You look nice,” Bucky finally said, his voice slightly strained.

My lips quirked upwards, “Thanks.” “It is time for us to leave,” Zemo announced, bursting the bubble Bucky and I had built, “You’d better get used to those shoes quickly, we’ll be making most of the journey by foot.” He hadn’t been lying. We departed the runway and walked our way towards the city. Madripoor looked beautiful on the outside, the high-rise buildings lit up in all different colors emitting a glow across the waters. 

“We have to do something about this,” Sam finally exclaimed, holding the lapels of his patterned maroon suit, “I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.” “If you’re a pimp, what does that make me?” I gestured to the amount of skin I had on display, “Suck it up, Wilson.” “Only an American would assume a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp,” Zemo added as we crossed the large bridge leading to the city, “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.” Sam took Zemo’s phone from his outstretched hand, “He even has a bad nickname.”

I leaned over to look at the picture of Sam’s doppelgänger, “Hey, be nice. That’s your twin you’re talking about.” “And you,” Zemo addressed me, “Conrad is known for entertaining beautiful women, one after the other,” he ignored the faces of disgust Sam and I made at the thought of acting as a couple, “You will be playing tonight’s date, no need to come up with a name or a story as his dates are typically just arm candy.”

“So I’m supposed to just sit and look pretty?” I side eyed Zemo in annoyance, “Great.” “You smell this?” he asked the group.

“Yeah, what is that? Acid?” Sam asked.

“Madripoor,” Zemo answered, “No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There’s no margin for error. High Town’s that way,” Zemo pointed towards the part of the city I’d been admiring, “Not a bad place if you want to visit, but Low Town’s the other way.” We approached a car waiting for us at the end of the bridge, ready to take us into the darkest part of the city. Bucky, who had remained silent since the plane, climbed into the backseat first while Zemo took the passenger’s side. “Let me guess,” Sam remarked as we moved to get in the car, “We don’t have any friends in High Town.”

“I’m guessing not,” I muttered, ducking into the back seat and sliding till I was pressed against Bucky. He didn’t make a sound, he barely even registered my presence. I was about to ask him if he was alright when I realized what he was doing. We all had our roles to play and Bucky was doing just that. 

Sam climbed in next to me and we took off, me sandwiched between the two men trying to convince myself that I could do this. I could pretend to be someone I wasn’t to get answers, but my nerves was convincing me I was going to mess it up for us. No margin for error, Zemo’s words bounced around in my brain. He’d said our lives depended on it. They depended on whether or not I could keep it together. Sam must have sensed my anxiety because I felt his palm slide against my clammy one and squeeze. I sent a shaky one back, taking what comfort I could that I didn’t have to do this alone.

We were escorted in by a motorcade till we got to the seedier part of the city, the bridge we parked under painted with graffiti. Sam helped me out of the car and Zemo took our group through the back way into the city. As we crossed the overhead bridge, looking down into the city, I began to feel like my life had suddenly become some fever dream. Even more so once we entered the city and I was surrounded by people from all walks of life. Smugglers were making deals, guards were stationed outside buildings with machine guns, forgers were trying to sell to people. It was like nothing I’d ever seen. Sam kept me on his arm the entire time, selling our characters while still retaining his protective nature. We followed Zemo into a crowded bar, weaving our way through. “Here we are,” he announced quietly, our fellow patrons took notice as soon as they caught sight of Bucky, “Gotov podchinit'sya, zimniy soldat?” (Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?)

I tried my best to keep my face neutral, though an unwelcome chill went down my spine as Zemo began his act. It was wrong. It wasn’t fair to Bucky or his recovery to make him do this.

We approached the bar and the bartender came over immediately, “Hello, gentlemen. Ma’am. Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.” “His plans changed,” Zemo explained, “We have business to do with Selby.”

The bartender looked over suspiciously at Sam, “The usual?” Sam nodded casually in response and the man walked away to begin prepping the drink. What took us by surprise was when he reached for a jar containing a dead snake rather than the bottle of alcohol. He proceeded to lay the reptile on a cutting board and slice its stomach open, I looked up to Sam who was doing his best to keep his composure. “Ah, Smiling Tiger,” Zemo jeered, “Your favorite.”

The bartender removed a piece of the snake’s guts and sunk it into a shot glass filled with vodka. I covered my mouth with my clutch to conceal my delight at the sight I was about to behold. Sam caught the action and addressed the bartender, “You know what? She’ll have one too.” “Oh, no, I don’t think so,” I quickly protested, waving it off as if it were a shot of tequila and not an animal intestine.

“No, girl, I insist,” Sam grinned phonily at me.

“They actually upset my stomach,” I giggled, glancing to the bartender, “Can’t hold my liquor to save my life, I’ll be up all night sick if it touches my lips. But you enjoy, sweetheart.” The bartender didn’t pay much attention to the exchange as he set the shot glass in front of Sam, who looked unconvincingly between the glass and Zemo. “I love these,” he stated, holding it up for us all to see.

“Cheers, Conrad,” Zemo clinked his glass against Sam’s.

Sam made several, hopefully convincing, noises of excitement about his drink. After giving it one last look, he shot it straight down, holding a thumbs up to the bartender afterwards.

“How badly are you trying not to throw up right now?” I whispered after the man had left.

“I can’t even hear you right now,” Sam replied in a strained voice, focusing on keeping the drink where it needed to be. An intimidating bearded man made us all turn around, he looked to Zemo. “I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

Zemo, ever the cool and collected presence, turned to the man. “I have no business with the Power Broker. But if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo gestured to Bucky, standing at his side. 

“New haircut?” the man asked Bucky, who stayed silent.

“Or bring Selby for a chat,” Zemo finished.

The man left, leaving us with questions. “A power broker?” Bucky grumbled, “Really?” “Every kingdom needs its king,” Zemo replied, “Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.” 

“Do you know him?” Sam inconspicuously asked. “Only be reputation the baron answered, “In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner.”

I spotted another man approaching us, this one walking with a purpose. Zemo looked to Bucky, the show was about to start. “Zimniy Soldat,” Bucky nodded once, “Attask.” (Winter Soldier, attack.) As soon as the stranger thumped Zemo’s shoulder, Bucky sprang to action, his metal hand grabbing and twisting the man’s arm. He pushed him to the center of the room where he proceeded to twist it further before dropping him to the ground. The groans coming from him were sickening as he lay helpless, clutching his most likely broken arm. As another patron came up to attack, Bucky moved fast to disarm him before power kicking him into a table several times. I clung to Sam’s arm even tighter as Zemo shoved someone forward for Bucky to punch, sending him sliding across the floor. 

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo slyly observed, from my side. It took everything in me not to send him flying across the room right then. He was enjoying this.

When Bucky lifted a man by his throat and slammed him down on the bar was when guns all over the bar were cocked. Sam grabbed onto Bucky’s metal arm, ready to pull him back to us and to reality. “Stay in character,” Zemo whispered, dead serious, “Or the whole bar turns on us.” Sam dropped his arm as Zemo leaned into Bucky, “Molodets, soldat.” (Well done, soldier.)

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender said, watching the scene in awe. Bucky slowly let the man go, gasping and groaning for air once he was freed. Sam looked over warily, “You good?” When Bucky faced us, his eyes met mine before they met Sam’s. I wished I could have concealed my reaction better for his sake, but the second he had attacked was the first time since we’d met that I’d been properly scared of him. It made the incident on the plane look like nothing. My mind knew he was just acting, pretending to be someone he once was for the sake of furthering our mission. But my blood ran just as cold with fear as it would have if the Winter Soldier was standing in front of me. Bucky’s eyes now were watery, filled with pain that he’d worked hard with his therapist to get through, now being brought back to life. Had the bar not been watching and had I not needed to stick with Sam, I’d have been at his side trying to make sure he was alright. Instead, I could only watch as he sniffled, nodded to Sam and followed Zemo to wherever we were going next.

We were escorted upstairs through a series of hallways with a heavily armed guard following us. A white haired woman sat in the middle of the room we were led to, tapping her fingers against the couch she lounged on. “You should know, Baron, people don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” Zemo smiled, “Not a demand. An offer.”

Sam and I took our places standing next to Selby, Bucky stood watch across from us, back in his act. 

“A lot has changed since you were here last,” Selby spared a look at Bucky, “By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?” 

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo shrugged, “I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.” 

Selby pointed a blind finger towards Sam, “You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger,” she eyed Sam suggestively and gave him a purr before turning her attention to me, “And what a lovely little dish you’ve got with you.” Internally I was struggling to stay calm and had never felt more exposed with the thin materiel of the dress over my body. “What’s the offer?” Selby grinned at Zemo.

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum,” Zemo replied, rising from his seat to circle Bucky, “And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want,” Zemo rubbed Bucky’s chin, playing with it to provoke him but knowing he could get away with it. I felt sick to my stomach.

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember,” Selby approved, “I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately. Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right. The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but…things didn’t go as planned.”

I squeezed Sam’s arm, we were getting answers. The crazy, chaotic plan was actually working. “Is Nagal still in Madripoor?” Zemo asked.

“Oh, the bread crumbs you can have for free,” Selby’s flirtatious demeanor shifted as she stood to business-like, “But the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me.” 

A sudden vibration tickled my arm from Sam’s suit pocket, it was his cell phone. He pulled it out hesitantly and looked down at it, I glanced over to see that it was Sarah calling.

“Answer it,” Selby ordered, Bucky had moved behind her to give us protection if need be, “On speaker.” The armed bodyguards moved in closer, it was clear we had no say in the matter. Sam unlocked his phone and pressed the speaker button, “Hello?” “Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation,” Sarah’s voice filled the air, sending an all too brief wave of peace through me, “It’s been drivin’ me nuts.” 

“What situation exactly are you talkin’ about?” Sam replied stiffly. “Are you high? You know what situation, it’s the only situation me and you have.”

“What situation, Sarah?” Sam’s voice grew louder, “Say it.”

“The damn boat,” Sarah replied just as hard, “And watch your tone, okay? I let you slide at the bank.”

Sarah. The boat. Home. And here I was standing in a designer dress meeting with Indonesian crime bosses. Two unbelievable worlds were colliding on the call.

Sam scoffed and nervously chuckling, “Yeah, the bank. Laundered so much, yeah, they’ll come around.” “If that was the case, then why’d they dog you out, Big Time?”

“Yeah, you damn right I’m Big Time. You’ll see,” Sam paused menacingly, “When I have that banker killed.”

We almost had Selby convinced as I watched her pace around the room, we were so close to- “Cass! What’d I tell you about the Cheerios? I don’t have time for this!” Sarah yelled, “Sam, I’m sorry. Let me call you back, and make sure Y/n is with you too.” “Sam? Y/n?” Selby echoed the names, “Who are you? Kill them!”

A second after she had given the order, a bullet shot through the nearby window and struck her chest fatally. The four of us sprung to action, Sam landing punches on the guard stationed behind us while I used my energy to pull the machine gun from his grasp. Across from us, Bucky took care of the other guard. I handed the weapon to Sam and we took our positions in the back of the room, ready to retaliate against the hidden assassin. “They’re gonna pin this on us,” Sam panted, our backs against the wall.

“We have a real problem now,” Zemo said, unbelievably calm for someone in our situation, “So leave your weapons and follow my lead.” Bucky ripped the lock on the back door and the four of us filed down the staircase quick as we could. It dropped us back off in the middle of the city, we hurriedly made our way down the street where all heads were turning to us. “This is not good,” Zemo hurried. The words hung in the air for a grand total of five seconds before bullets started to rain down around us. Bucky, Sam and I tore down the street where in the chaos, Zemo took off in another direction.

“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam yelled over the gunfire. “Oh, I don’t wanna hear it,” I exclaimed, struggling to keep up with them in my stilettos, “Screw it!”

I threw my hands out to my side and lifted off the ground, keeping low enough to dodge any shots but stay close to Sam and Bucky. Two motorcycles sped after us promising more bounty hunters, Zemo caught up with us and killed two lone gunmen hiding behind a dumpster. Two perfectly aimed bullets came out of nowhere and lodged themselves in the heads of the cyclists chasing us.

“You seem to have a guardian angel,” Zemo observed as the three of us looked around for our savior.

“Well, this is too perfect,” a woman’s voice said, she appeared seconds later drawing back her hood and pointing a gun toward us, “Drop it, Zemo.”

Bucky stepped forward disbelievingly, “Sharon?” Sharon Carter. I recognized her only from the pictures I’d seen of her on the news when the shitstorm that branded her an enemy of the state went down. As she strode forward, ready to strike down the man responsible, I couldn’t say with certainty if she was an ally or not. “You cost me everything,” she seethed.

“Sharon, wait,” Sam, ever the steady presence, held a hand out and carefully came towards her, “Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” “Well, that explains why you guys are here and Selby’s dead.”

“So what are you doing here?” Bucky asked.

“I stole Steve’s shield, remember?” she answered, her face contorting, “I also took the wings for your ass,” she aimed her gun at Sam, “So that you could save his ass,” then at Bucky, “From his ass,” the gun landed on me after Zemo, “Your ass is new.” “I’ve had one hell of an initiation, trust me,” I replied, standing my ground between Bucky and Zemo.

Sharon turned back towards Sam, “Unlike you, I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up so I’m off the grid in Madripoor.”

“Don’t blow that smoke at me, I was on the run, too,” Sam recalled. “Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore,” Sharon shook her head sadly, “I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.”

“Listen, Sharon,” Bucky stepped forward, “We need your help. Please.” Sharon mirthlessly chuckled to herself, sighing afterwards as she made her decision. “This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town, you should be safe there for a while.”

While Sam roughly shoved Zemo forward to keep him in his line of sight, Bucky pressed a gentle hand to the small of my back to act as a guide through the dark alleyways. “You okay?” he asked quietly, quickly looking over at me. With everything he’d gone through in the last twenty minutes, the fight in the bar, the unshed tears in his eyes, Zemo talking about him like he was property to be traded, I couldn’t understand why he was asking if I was alright. He was what I was concerned with right now. “I will be once I get out of these shoes,” I joked, trying to get him to smile if at all possible. A corner of his lips turned upwards in a blink-and-you’d-miss-it flash, mine doing the same right after in some sort of relief.

Sharon led us to her car parked down a different alley, Sam shoved Zemo in the front seat while him, Bucky and I squeezed in the backseat once again. The difference between Low Town and High Town was visceral, Madripoor may have been dangerous no matter where you went but High Town provided a little more safety. When we arrived at Sharon’s house, greeted by two burly guards, the feeling of protection increased. The first room we entered was filled with artwork, statues and other priceless works that told us exactly what Sharon had done to afford her lifestyle in High Town.

“Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well,” Sam commented as we walked through the room.

“Well, I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler,” Sharon shrugged, far too goodheartedly for a true criminal, “You know how much I can get for a real Monet?” Sam grinned at his friend, “Deactivate your hustle mood, you sell fake Monets.”

“No, she means real,” Zemo corrected, “This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics.” “I kinda thought that was implied,” I said, following Sharon and Zemo and beginning to relax in the shockingly calm environment, “No offense.” Sharon scoffed, “None taken, a girl’s gotta do what she can to survive. By the way, who are you?”

“Y/n Y/l/n,” I answered, “Sam’s sister.” “Hmm,” Sharon hummed, looking me over once before turning around to hurry Sam and Bucky along, “Come on, you guys need to change. I’m hosting clients in an hour. You,” she pointed to me, “Second door on your left, I’ll bring something up for you.” At the promise of shedding the over exposing dress and blistering heels, I had never moved faster in my life.

————

I took the opportunity to catch my breath while I could, the night had been a little too exciting than any of us had wanted. Sitting on the edge of Sharon’s bed with my elbows balanced on my knees, I felt the adrenaline rush I’d been running on start to subside.

The door opened, bringing in Sharon and her garment of choice. “This looked like it would fit you,” she said, tossing me a black jumpsuit that looked ten times more comfortable than what I was in. She walked over to her wardrobe and pulled out an outfit for herself, “I gotta change too, back to back?” “Works for me,” I replied, turning around and beginning to unzip the dress.

“So you said you’re Sam’s sister but your last name isn’t Wilson?” Sharon asked, I could hear the sound of her clothes hitting the floor.

“We grew up together,” I freed myself of the dress and kicked it to the corner of the room.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here though,” she said, “This is probably the shittiest family road trip you could go on so clearly there’s a reason.” I looked over to the wardrobe, a pair of black boots sitting on the floor next to it. I used my energy to levitate them and landed them at Sharon’s side. Her dry chuckle served as her reaction. “I kinda begged him to bring me,” I explained as I pulled the jumpsuit up my body, “He was going to send me back home before John Walker decided to not so subtly threaten me with the Sokovian Accords, figured I’d be safer here with them.” “Safer?” Sharon scoffed, “Did he say this before or after you were being shot at by bounty hunters?”

“Well, between getting shipped off to jail and going undercover with a superhero and a Super Soldier as protection, I’ll take my chances here.” I heard Sharon walk away, presumably finished dressing. I zipped up the suit and tightened the belt, turning around after to find her leaned up against her dresser with her hands in her pockets. “Look, I know we just met but let me do you a favor and shed some light on the subject of heroics. It’s all bullshit. The whole costume, nickname, swoop-in-and-save-the-day act is all hypocrisy. I get that you’re young, you’ve got,” she waved a hand at mine, “Whatever that is. Maybe you want to do some good, maybe you just want to feel like you’re a part of something. Maybe you didn’t think it through at all and just thought it would be cool to run with a superhero. But if you’re smart, you’ll get your ass on a plane to anywhere but here and stay clear of all this.”

There was so much going through my head that I wanted to throw back at her, proving her speech completely wrong. Then I remembered that this woman had sacrificed more than most had and the government had turned their backs on her. She’d stuck her neck out for Steve and Sam and had been punished for it. Plus, she was kind enough to give us refuge when she had every right now to. I wasn’t in a place to criticize her. If anything, she should have been a cautionary tale. “I’ve had these powers all my life and have never known what to do with them,” I responded, “I want to help people and this is the best way for me to do that. As easy as it would be for some people to walk away, this is personal and I can’t leave now.” Sharon stared back at me silently before pushing herself off the dresser and brushing past me. There were layers of her expression, if I could peel each one back I thought I might get to the sadness I suspected she felt regarding her current life status. She opened her wardrobe, pulled out a pair of combat boots and handed them to me. “Then take a step back and ask yourself how far you’re willing to go. And if the three of you live long enough to get there, is it going to be worth the hell that’ll come afterwards?” She gave me a half smile before leaving the room, her heavy words hanging in the air. Steve had been my friend, Sam was my brother and Bucky was quickly climbing the ranks of people I cared about. I was going to see this through to the end with them, but what was the end? Was it retrieving the rest of the serum and stopping the Flag Smashers? Was it only two of us returning? One? None? Questions I didn’t have the answers to swirled in my mind as I stared at the door, wondering what awaited us for the rest of the night.

----

A/N: Next chapter is going to be...let’s just say there’s gonna be a lot of developments. A lot. Hope you guys are enjoying it, let me know what you thought or if you’d like to be tagged.

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale​ @wanniiieeee​ @asoftie4bucky​ @edencherries​ @i-reblog-fics-i-like​ @ttalisa​ @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess​ @rinaispunk​ @weirdowithnobeardo​ @felicityofbakerstreet​ @godlypotterwhodiaries @eternalharry​ @voguesir​ @mizz-kraziii​ @okayline​ @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories​ @nicklet94 @intricate-melody​ @aesthethickks​ @stumbleonmywords​ @simplybarnes​ @21bruhs​ @lostinwonderland314​ @superbookishhufflepuff​ @kaelyn-lobrutto24​ @zozebo​ @fandomxreaders​ @kittengirl998​ @sarai-ibn-la-ahad​

[serendipityjxmn]

Mr. President

Chapter 21

TW: None

Words Count: 4.3k

Link to Masterlist

Link to Chapter 22

You wake up feeling sore all over your body. From top to bottom- it just feels painful. Even opening your eyes seems like a difficult task. But you somehow did.

It takes a while for you to adjust your vision although it is very dim in the room. The next thing you notice is cold fingers wrapped against yours when you try to move yours. That’s when you tilt your head very slightly and glance down to see your husband fast asleep, his free hand beneath his head as a pillow.

You want to call out to him but realize you don’t have a voice. So you result to moving your fingers several times to wake him up.

His eyebrows gather in a frown before he finally opens his eyes. When he lifts his gaze to look at you, he blinks several times.

“Y/N…?” He asks, as if unsure whether you’re really awake. Then he blinks again rapidly before leaning forward and caressing your cheeks with his fingers. “Oh God, oh God you’re really awake.”

You could almost swear that his eyes glisten a little. “You’re fine.. you’re fine..” he says repetitively as his fingers gently squeeze yours.

“W.. water..” you manage to choke out.

Jimin lifts himself immediately and quickly fetches a glass of water. You try to sit up but ends up letting out a whimper when jarring pain shoots across your shoulder.

“No, wait..” he reaches forward like he’s going to embrace you and it’s embarrassing how you feel your heartbeat starts to pick up quickly. He helps you sit up gently and arranges the pillow behind your back for you to lean back comfortably. Then he helps you to drink from your glass.

You let out a long breath once you’re finally done and your throat doesn’t burn so much. You look at your husband and he just shifts uncomfortably.

“You’re so pale.” He says and watch your face registers surprise.

“How- how long have I been out?”

“Almost a week.” He says with a clench in his jaw. Then he reaches forward again, fingers reaching up to lightly push several strands of hair behind your ear. His face is so near and your heart starts beating wildly against your ribs before suddenly the image of him carving your brother’s face and shooting him without mercy comes into your mind. Almost automatically, you jerk away from him. The whole thing had been so traumatising and you’re still very terrified of him.

He flinches when he sees you pull away from his touch like a burn. His expression hard. Then he sighs and pulls back from touching you.

Unconsciously, you pull your blanket tighter. “W-what happened to me?”

He hesitates before answering. “Someone tried to shoot me but missed and the bullet hit you instead. It grazed your shoulder.”

You touch your bandaged shoulder mindlessly. All images of the night in the warehouse then comes hitting you like a truck and suddenly it’s all too overwhelming. Your fingers grip your blanket a little too harshly. “Y- you didn’t have to kill him.” You say softly.

His expression turns furious instantly. “I did. Fullstop. And if it were to happen again, I’d do it all over again.”

You flinch at his words.

“Fuck. I’m- I’m sorry, I- I can’t let him go. Not after what he did to you.” He says softly.

You swallow thickly.

“I.. thank you for saving me..”

He lets out a sigh. “I.. just couldn’t bear the thought of you.. lying there.. you really scared me back there.”

Your gaze softens. “That’s what you do for love. Get hurt for them.. Instead of them.” The words are out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

He looks at you in horror and you bite your lip while muttering sorry.

“No that’s not it… I..” he sigh. You watch his pained expression as he carefully chooses his words. “When we were back there.. and when those bastards touch you.. I was in rage. I.. I wanna tear them apart, limb to limb.”

“You care for me.” You say quietly. You know for a fact that he does. In his own twisted way.

He looks straight at you. “I do.”

For the first time since you wake up, you feel like crying.

“Y/N.” He calls. His expression serious and you find yourself immersed in his piercing stare. You swallow as you look at him expectantly. “Let’s.. start over. Do you want to.. start over.. with me?” He asks and it’s the first time you’ve seen him look so unsure of himself.

You continue to stare at him. A thousand words crossing through your mind but none comes out of your lips.

He swallows. “I.. I care about you. A lot. And I don’t know if this feeling is love or.. not.. but I’m gonna try.. for us.”

Is it weird that you just somehow know Jimin cares for you before he even says it out loud? It’s a foreign feeling for him but you know it better.

But for now, it’s good enough. It’s all that you could ever want. For him to open up and let you in.

Because you want to fill him with warmth and embrace every part of him.

You feel a tear dropping.

“So.. what do you say?”

And suddenly your tears turn into sobs as you frantically nod. His eyes glisten when he sees you breaking into tears and he instinctively leans forward, pulling you gently into a hug. His lips find your forehead and he kisses it tenderly.

“I’m so sorry for everything..” he says softly.

And for a long moment, he just lets you cry on his shoulders.

The doctor comes to check up on you, explains to you of all the side effects you might be having, gives plenty of lectures to your husband and you find it funny how he just sit through it like an adolescent child being told off. Later that evening, you sit in silence as you watch your husband brings you a tray of chicken porridge. You’ve fallen asleep after crying so hard and only wakes up now with your stomach grumbling.

Jimin feeds you the porridge and brings you water every now and then and you just sit in silence as you study his face.

It’s very weird to have him tending to you like this. Like he didn’t just make a killing spree which includes your own brother and the memory makes you recoil. You try to take the spoon saying you’ll feed yourself only to earn a glare from your husband.

When you’re done, he cleans it up and comes back to sit on the chair beside your bed. His fingers find you immediately and you find it weird how it feels so right and natural against yours when in fact you didn’t have much memory of holding his hands.

Unconsciously, your fingers reach to your neck to find your ring and you feel your heart dropping when you realize it’s not there. Jimin sees the look of panic in your face.

“What’s wrong?”

“My- my necklace. Oh my god, my ring-”

His shoulders visibly relax. “Ssh.. relax. It’s in a safe place.” He squeezes your fingers.

And that’s when you notice he doesn’t wear his as well and your look of terror reappear in a speed of light. He’s always worn his ring and you wonder if something went wrong. “Jimin you- you‘re not wearing your ring too oh God- oh God we’re- we’re still married right? Y-you didn’t divorce me or something right??” You ask frantically in utter panic.

He just chuckles. “Relax Y/N.. shh.. I was gonna wait till you’re better but at this rate I think you might die from heart attack. Of course we’re still married, you idiot. I.. I just thought that the rings.. is like the worse part of our marriage.. and they’re all just bad memories for you.. and I want to make it all better for you, so I plan to get new ones and wanted to keep it a secret.. but I guess it’s no longer a secret.” He grins.

You swallow as your fingers play with his, tracing the slight mark left by the ring on his fourth finger. “I… I like the rings.. it means you’re taken..”

He grins even wickedly. “Don’t worry. No one has come for my hand in marriage in the span of two days I don’t wear my ring.” He winks.

He freaking winks.

You blush crazily.

Silence settles again between the two of you before you speak up.

“I.. thought you didn’t care about me..” you say quietly.

“Is that why you went out without security??” He bursts out.

You slowly nod.

“Do you know how fucking stupid that is?” He snaps and you flinch. “Damn it, if you’d just told me.. I would’ve.. given you time.. or space from me or whatever you want. But you decided to escape security, pack your bags and leaves a stupid fucking note saying you’re sorry without any sort of explanation and then just disappears. Did you have a death wish or something??”

You blanch at his words and looks down immediately. It’s not even two hours before he says he’s trying to fix ‘us’ yet he’s here scolding you like you’re a child. “I’m sorry..”

He shuts his eyes for a moment and when they reopen he looks at you softly. “Fuck, I’m sorry for yelling too.”

You swallow bitterly. “I.. Jimin.. if we’re going to do this.. I just want you to know that I can’t share you.. I mean- I won’t.”

He stills for a few moments, just processing your words. Perhaps wondering where this is all coming from. Then he rolls his eyes. “Baby, I just talked about us.”

His term of endearment make your heart skips a beat but you still couldn’t shake the thought that has been haunting your mind. “What about Clara Kim?”

To his credit, he bursts out laughing. “You’re in a coma for almost a week and yet you still can’t forget about her huh?” He says, wiping a nonexistent tear of mirth from his eyes.

You still stare back at him, looking serious.

He realizes you aren’t laughing and just smiles as he takes your hand, wrapping it gently. “No, I’m not hooking up with her. I mean, long time ago yes,” you narrow your eyes, “sorry- but not anymore. I’ve been faithful since I married you. I didn’t sleep with her or anyone for that matter.”

You couldn’t stop the butterflies in your stomach but you still wouldn’t let it go. “Then who’s she?”

“She’s just one of the dealer in my illegal business. You.. don’t wanna know the details they’re.. dangerous.” He gives a plastic smile. “But she’s out now. I cut all sorts of business with her and she’s gone missing too.”

“Missing?”

His jaw tightens. “Because she knows I’d cut her alive if I find her.”

You blanch. Your husband really likes.. cutting people.. a lot.

“I- fuck, damn it. I’m sorry. You should probably rest before I make it worse.” He smiles apologetically.

You take a deep breath, not ready to let it go just yet.

“I- I’ve seen you.. and her in the office.”

“Oh she can be tempting.” He smirks. “Particularly when I don’t agree with her on certain things. But no- I told you I never touch anyone after I married you.”

O.. kay. You can live with that.

“I’ve said horrible things to you..” He starts.

“You did.” You respond almost immediately. All memories of him throwing words like you’re nothing to him comes flashing.

He bit back his words and perhaps wants to defend himself but thinks better of it. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Why.. why didn’t you leave me..? Even when I was so mean to you..”

You just give him a soft smile before reaching to touch his hand. “You told me before.. that I would leave this marriage if I know the reason behind it.. but I know you.. I don’t know why but it just felt like I know you, not the outer appearance you put on. But you on the inside, the beautiful and kind and the attentive man I fell for. You’ve always shut people out.. including me as well.. but I just.. I just want to show you that there are people who cares for you.. that I’m never gonna leave no matter what. Because.. I love you..”

The look he gives you when you utter those words makes you wonder if his heart is skipping a beat too. He smiles at you fondly. “So what do you say?” He suddenly asks.

“Hm?”

He brings your hand to his lips and then he kisses your knuckles. “Say yes..? To this new journey with me..?”

You want to say yes. You really want to.

But there’s something heavy in your heart and it’s something that you just can’t shake off immediately. “I.. I don’t know..” you say after a while, giving up on finding the right words. “You still scare me.. a lot..”

“I understand.” He says quietly.

“Can we.. can we take it slow..?”

He looks at you for a moment and then smiles softly as he nods. “Okay. I’m not gonna rush you into anything.”

You nod as well. “Thank you.. and I’m sorry..”

He quickly shakes his head. “Don’t be.” Is all he says.

For the next few weeks, Jimin takes care of you at the hospital. It’s awkward and you feel it and you know he feels it too. It’s the way your eyes would meet when he hands you something because it isn’t something he usually do. He never does that- he never takes care of anyone, period.

It also doesn’t help how your heart races every time he comes near. Intentionally or unintentionally. And you think for the most part Jimin does things intentionally just to see you all flustered and flushed crimson.

For example, today- is one of the days you wish Jimin is the cold guy you know and not this- flirty Jimin. He walks out of the bathroom, freshly showered. He’d been practically living at the hospital with you, and it’s comfortable enough since he’d so conveniently transferred you to VIP suite room and the room is almost as big as the one you shared with him at home with a King sized bed which he could sleep into with you but he insists to sleep on the massage chair beside the bed or sometimes the couch at the near end of the room because he’s scared he might accidentally hurt you as well as personal bathroom, mini fridge and a small closet.

You gulp and silently curses your rapid pulse because your husband’s not even naked for you to react this way.

He’s just half naked.

He walks out with only his pyjama bottom, his hair still wet from the shower and you feel like salivating over his toned body. His back is vast, almost like you can lay a canvas and draw on it without a problem, and it comes down into a very muscled structure, and on each side of his waist, a V line so deeply engraved looking like a sin on plate as if it’s been carved by the sex God himself. You briefly wonder what kind of exercise he has to do to make those Adonis belt.

He turns around and you look like a deer caught in headlights and you quickly look down while clearing your throat. For a fleeting second though, you think you see his smirk but it’s gone too fast.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to eat now?” He asks, face seemingly too innocent.

You suddenly don’t feel hungry anymore. Not for food, anyway. So you shake your head. “I- I’m just gonna lie down.” Or more like, calm your freaking heart down.

“You sure? You okay? Do you want me to call the doctor? It’s about time he comes anyway-“

You’re about to say no when there’s a knock on the door. And as if he’d been summoned, Doctor Lee appears in the doorway with two others behind him. Jimin lets him in immediately while he puts on his shirt. Thank God all of them are male.

“Evening, Mrs. Park.” The doctor greets you and you just smile at him. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

He eyes the device to your right as he reads your chart. “Your heartbeat seems quicker than normal. Are you feeling alright? Any dizziness or particular pain you’re experiencing?”

You’re pretty sure your face is flaming red now. Jimin looking as if he’s trying to hold his laugh, his shoulders silently vibrating.

“No, no nothing. I’m fine.” You say quickly.

“I’ve looked into your charts and your recent CT scan is fine. I’ll consult with orthopaedic specialist and if everything’s fine, you should be good to be discharged this weekend. You’re very lucky the bullet just grazed your shoulder, otherwise you might’ve caused your husband to become a widower.”

Jimin hisses upon hearing that.

“I wouldn’t say lucky.” You mutter under your breath.

“It’s not a serious wound but you still need some serious recovery. You’re not allowed to do anything heavy. You still suffer from injury around your throat. Any sorts of pain, please inform me immediately.”

You just silently nod. The doctors are about to leave when Jimin calls for Doctor Lee.

“Doctor, can I have a second?” When the doctor nods, he follows him outside. What kind of question does he have that he cannot ask in front of you? You frown.

When he comes in, he sits on the chair beside you and you look at him suspiciously.

“What did you ask the doctor?”

He just gives a sly grin. “I think you don’t wanna know.”

You narrow your eyes and is about to push him for answer when he leans so close to you, and all words slip back down your throat. Your breath hitches when he hovers like he’s about to kiss you.

“You don’t look so pale anymore.” He suddenly says.

What?

He leans backward again making you all confused. His eyes suddenly darts toward your heart rate monitor and your eyes follow his gaze.

And your worst case scenario repeats; the monitor giving away your spiking heart rate.

And your husband finds amusement in confirming the fact that he caused it.

He smiles a little too widely. “Perhaps you shouldn’t really be discharged that quickly.”

“Shut up.” You glare at him and quickly hide yourself under the blanket.

The next morning, you tell the nurse to get you off the machine. She agrees to it, much to your husband’s rolling of eyes.

While you’re in the hospital, Jimin’s group of friends also come to visit.

That morning, Jimin’s spoon-feeding you a bowl of noodle although you resisted at first, only to earn a piercing glare from your husband when there’s a rapid knock on the door. Whoever it is, or are outside doesn’t seem to mind about an invitation because a second later, they barge in with total chaos. The room is instantly filled with large bouquets of flowers and fruits basket.

“God, it smells like newlyweds all over again!” Someone shouts in the midst of all the conversations erupting at the same time.

“Y/N how are you?!” Jungkook asks and doesn’t hesitate to pull you into an embrace, making you wince a little. Jimin pulls him off you instantly.

“Careful, brat.” He glares at the younger boy.

Jungkook’s eyes widen. “Oops, sorry sorry.” He smiles apologetically at you and you just smile back kindly at him.

“How are you feeling Y/N?” Jin asks, he’s already peeling off an apple for you.

“I’m feeling okay. You don’t have to do that Jin.”

He flashes a sweet smile. “Nah, this is nothing.”

“I’m really glad you’re getting better Y/N.” Namjoon says and smiles his dimpled smile.

“Jimin was really beside himself while you’re unconscious.” Hoseok chirps in.

“Yeah, saying something like being stupid or something..” Jungkook says and everybody else laughs while your husband yells at him.

“Shut up, brat.”

Then they each starts a conversation of their own with each other. Your husband discussing some things with Taehyung.

“Did you bring the files I asked for?” Your husband says.

Taehyung nods. “I’ve asked most of them to prepare written reports but there’s some that you might still have to come to the office to look at yourself.”

Jimin just nods.

“You’re planning to work from home for long?” Taehyung asks, tone is slightly hushed, perhaps not wanting you to hear yet you can still hear them.

Jimin glances at you slightly and you quickly pretend to be so interested in Jungkook’s story who’s sitting beside you, talking animatedly.

“I have to take care of my wife.” He says quietly and your heart swells from hearing that.

“Are you.. okay now with Jimin hyung?” Jungkook suddenly asks quietly beside you, taking you off guard.

You frown slightly. You remember Jimin saying only Taehyung knows about the reality of your marriage with him.

“We all know about it now. Jimin hyung himself told us all about it while you were unconscious for days.” He says.

Jin sits on the edge of your bed and hands you a slice of apple he cut and you nod at him gratefully. “Don’t blame him. I think.. he just wants the best for you that’s why he seeks us for some advice.”

You slowly nod. “He’s.. making an effort.”

Hoseok then suddenly comes to join the conversation as well. He softly calls for your name. “And we’re sorry about having you to watch all those.. you know.. back in the warehouse.”

You flinch a little. They all seem really nice, friendly and harmless. But the fact that they are a group of mafias, has more experience of killing people than you’ll ever know makes you shudder. You don’t do well with violence.

“Yeah Jimin’s too caught up in the moment. He should’ve not let you see that.” Jin says kindly.

“Or perhaps someone should’ve covered her eyes better.” Hoseok says, side eyeing Jungkook, making him puff in irritation.

“Oh come on, that’s not fair. Blame Jimin hyung for not controlling himself. He’s the stupid one.” He complains.

“Who’s the stupid one?” Jimin asks, nearing where the conversation is coming from. He takes his seat on your left and Jungkook immediately shuts his mouth.

“So, when can you be discharged?” Hoseok asks.

“If everything’s okay, this weekend.” You smile at him.

“But you still can’t do anything heavy right? A gunshot is still a gunshot.” Jin says.

You nod.

Jungkook smirks. “Huh. No sex for Jimin hyung then.” He says and you choke on the apple you’re eating and cough too much. Everyone looks at Jungkook first then you then Jimin then anywhere else and there’s suddenly an awkward tension in the room and you hope the ground would swallow you whole at that moment.

“It’s okay. There’s plenty other ways.” Jimin says suddenly and your eyes widen. He did not just say that!

“What the fuck hyung! So gross!” Jungkook says while the others are desperately trying to hold their laugh.

You’re thankful you’re now off the heartbeat monitor because if all these happens while you’re attached to the machine.. the doctor would probably come running.

The guys bring you so much laughter but now that they had left, you feel the soreness down to your toes. It’s late evening and you just want to lie back down but you also feel dirty since you haven’t showered or change your clothes.

You’re still in sitting position, your back against the pillows and you unconsciously moan when your head hit the pillow behind, eyes shut.

You could almost drift to sleep immediately if your entire body doesn’t suddenly become alarmed when you feel a hand coming up to your rib where the hospital gown’s knot is situated. One simple act of untying the knot and you’d be naked from top to bottom because you’re completely bare on the inside.

Your hand reaches out to grip his immediately, stopping his act. He seems surprised for a moment but immediately relaxes. “You need to change clothes and bathe.”

“You.. are not going to undress me. Or bathe me.” You say in all seriousness.

He rolls his eyes. “I’ve seen more than this.” He snorts and you flush all shades of red.

You try to say no to him changing your cloths or bathing you but he’s very adamant about it and you sigh in surrender. And it’s more likely because you’re already worn out and couldn’t take off your cloth on your own.

If your naked body somehow affects him, he surely does a good job hiding it. Perhaps your pride is bruised, a little.

All he does is just gentle and tenderness as he wipes your whole body with wet towel and you almost buckle in full embarrassment. Once the whole tedious process is done, he guides you to your bed, tucking you in as his body is flush against yours. His embrace is so warm against your cold blanket and you almost shut your eyes from the warmth.

He starts to pull away once you’re tucked in bed but you grip his arm tight before he could go away, eyes already fluttered close. He seems unsure at first but then decides to just hug you till you’re sound asleep. So he lets your head fall across his chest and silently prays you don’t hear his rapid heartbeat.

You lean close to him, as if pulled by his smell. You’ve always liked his smell and it’s your most favourite smell in the world.

You thought you only said it your mind but little did you know, you muttered it under your breath and Jimin being a few centimetres away catches on it, making his lips quirk up in a fond smile. His head dips down slightly and softly presses his lips against the crown of your head.

You fall asleep in his arms like that.

A/N: Weeee hope you guys like the chapter <3 4.3k words phew- that's a bit long but uhhh not gonna apologize xD see you guys in the next chap! ;) p/s i hope yall are ready for jimin's change in behaviour hewhewhew

Buy me a coffee here!

Link to Chapter 22

Posted on 210519 9:00PM

[danniburgh]

Rushingly Bittersweet (Javier Peña x f!reader) part 20

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.

Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel’s operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.

And he couldn’t seem to stop any of that.

Word count: +4.3k

Chapter warnings: more feelings, the whole truth, brief mention of drugs, a lot of tears lmao

A/N: This chapter is set after season three, episode nine. // I AM SO FUCKING SORRY in advance, i think this and the next 2 are gonna be heavy for me and you so... yeah, WE ARE ALMOST DONE GUYS KEEP YOUR CHINS UP THIS IS GONNA END WELL!!!!

ao3 // fic index // Masterlist // fic playlist

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓 let me know if you wanna be tagged

←previous // next→

gif: @bestintheparsec​

If Javier hadn’t seen you cry like you were crying in front of him, he would have thought it was a joke.

A bad, sick, horrible joke.

But there you were, shaking and crying and bracing yourself and standing in front of him telling him you knew things he didn’t know and your name wasn’t your name and he wasn’t even your boss as if he not only needed to know he was being used but he deserved it. As if he could avoid to think everything you had told him before wasn’t a complete lie. Bullshit.

He stood up straight and took his eyes off you. He couldn’t bear to look at you shaking like a small puppy trapped in the cold rain, he couldn’t bear to look at you like that because he was fighting with himself and the need to rush and hold you and tell you everything was going to be fine when he knew and you knew and he knew you knew nothing would be the same. As if he wasn’t angry, furious, infuriated.

You let out a sob, because you knew he was about to avoid looking at you at all costs.

“Well,” Javier let out, “I’m sorry if I don’t say it’s nice to meet you,” and then he laughed bitterly, shaking his head, “who the fuck are you?” his face quirked in something you, between tears, could recognize as anger and pain.

“I–” you mumbled, but he cut you off.

“I’m giving you one chance to explain everything to me,” he hardened his voice and you couldn’t seem to stop yourself from crying, he lifted a finger in front you, “just one, take it,”

“Javier,” you whispered, and he shook his head.

“Are you even DEA?” he scoffed and crossed his arms on his chest, “since you knew things I didn’t and your name isn’t your name, are you even an agent?” you only got to nod “so why,” he breathed in before continuing “why are there CIA reports with your signature?” he turned with a scowl on his face and with one hand he skimmed through all the pages on that file, “you kept tabs on me,” he said, purposefully not looking at you “fuck,” he tapped several times on the last one “you did fool me.”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” you sighed out, it was really hard for you to breathe.

“What wasn’t supposed to happen?” he chewed out “you telling me? or you with me? or you in my bed? or me fucking you? what?”

“Stop,” you pleaded, not having the energy anymore to chase his eyes “let me explain,”

“No,” he shook his head and flared his nose in anger “you’re not worth listening to, get out,”

“At least let me tell you the truth,” you pleaded again.

“I have it here!” he smacked his hand on the files and you jumped out, startled at the way he raised his voice out of the sudden. 

But you didn’t blame him, you only blamed yourself, but that self-preservation instinct inside of you was forcing you to keep on pushing him to listen to you and your reasons. It was forcing you to keep pushing him, even when you knew he was already at his limit.

“Please, let me explain everything,” you pleaded again. Javier shook his head and fought himself harder to stop from looking at you and reach for you and hold you because you just sounded so broken. But you were breaking him.

“Get out,” he whispered, half a plea and half a demand, you shook your head.

“Read them,” you sniffed and cleared your throat “read the last few reports, please,” you were hating how much you were shaking and he glanced at you for less than a second, and you cried at how short it felt. Javier took you in with that glance and as if it wasn’t enough, his chest tugged at the sight of your puffy eyes and the tears that dampened your cheeks. He indulged and skimmed through them “see how they get shorter? see how they get briefer? how they get–”

“Shittier? he cut you off “so you did a bad job, what about it?”

You bit your lip and breathed in and out twice.

“That was the point!” you let out, “fuck, Javier,” you finally found your voice inside your chest and you went off “I’ve been wanting to tell you everything for the longest fucking time, I just couldn’t, I swear I wanted to tell you ever–”

“Since when,” he cut you off again. You looked at him and tried to get him to look at you but he didn't. 

“There were so many nights where I just wanted to tell you everything, but it just wasn’t safe for either of us! I swear I did planned to te–”

“Since when?” Javier raised his voice again and you sighed.

You closed your eyes for a few seconds, feeling more tears sliding down your cheeks.

Javier allowed himself to glance at you in those few seconds that you closed your yes, and tightened his jaw. How the fuck he had allowed all that shit to happen? He had asked you a question he wasn’t sure if he wanted the answer off, but then you opened your eyes and he painfully unglued his gaze from you.

“Since the first time you kissed me,” you muttered out. Javier shook his head several times and turned around to stop seeing you.

“Get out,” he pointed to the door.

“Javier, please,” your voice broke again and you saw his shoulders raise and drop several times.

“I don’t want to listen to you,” his voice was low and deep and hurt and you bit your lip again to stop your sobs from coming out. You threw your head back and looked at the ceiling, fisting and releasing your hands at the impotence you felt because he just didn’t want to listen to you.

And you knew this would happen, you knew it. How could you’ve been so stupid to think that if you explained everything to Javier, he would just take it as the historical truth and just… forgive you? How could you’ve been such an idiot to believe so little of him?

Since the first time you had seen him you knew he was a man of straights and grays, you knew he hated lies; you knew he hated liars. Hell, he hated himself for being one. But somehow, deep in your chest, in your… heart, you thought, you imagined, you hoped he would make an exception for you.

But he wasn’t, not for you, not for anybody, not even for himself. 

He just wasn’t.

Javier closed his eyes once he had you out of his sight, he had so much in his head, the thoughts were pouring down like the restless stream of an overflowing river cascading to a bottomless drowning lake; so much to think about, so much to say, but nothing was coming out.

He was hurt, he recognized that one emotion. Pure, deep, raw hurt, he could feel it burning his insides and turning his guts into ashes. Fuck. He didn’t like the pain, he had spent years and years of his life running away from the pain. How could he had been so stupid to allow himself to get to that point? How could he had been such a fucking idiot to let you do that to him? How? When he had become an expert at running away from his own emotions? Why?

He brushed a hand through his hair and tried to regain his composure, but it was nearly impossible. The pain inside him started to feel physical, it was as if someone had shot him directly on the chest over his kevlar; the air knocked out of his lungs. He was struggling to breathe properly. He was about to burst.

He felt a foreign sting inside his throat that he knew exactly what meant. He wasn’t about to cry. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of showing you how much he cared.

Even if you already knew.

“Javier,” you called him.

“Get out,”

“I will, I promise I’ll go,” you sobbed out and Javier felt disgusted by himself for being so weak at the sound of your sobs, he rolled his hands into fists and forced his body to stay put in place “I just want you to understand why I did it.” Javier rolled his eyes and raised a hand to press his eyes shut.

“Get the fuck out, please just get out,” his voice sounded like a plea and a beg and a demand altogether and you snapped at the way he was just trying to escape from an explanation that you were more than willing to give him. An explanation he deserved.

“No!” you raised your own voice, “you dragged me into this! now you have to listen to me!” you accused. Javier turned around, his face quirked in confusion and bewilderment and pain and anger.

“Me?” he raised his voice as well, his finger landing on his chest several times “I dragged you into this? you’re not a child! you made a choice!” he let out, shaking his head.

“I tried to grab onto any excuse to not start this, Javier, you know that!” you reminded him, and he let his hands rest on his waist “Javier, it was never my intention to hurt you.” 

Javier barked out a laugh.

A stinging, humourless, deep hurting laugh that landed inside the crevices of your chest and hung from every nerve of your being. 

“Well, I’m hurt,” he said, finally facing you “you lied to me,” his face was a mess of emotions you couldn’t read “you lied to me on my fucking face.” he gritted out, walking towards you.

“I know, and I’m sorry” you said under your breath, his face was inches away from yours and he frowned and shook his head. You closed your eyes because out of the sudden his cologne invaded your nostrils and you cried harder at the thought of never getting to smell him again.

“And you know what’s even worse?” he rhetored, you opened your eyes and quickly his eyes were on yours, but that time, his brown, soft eyes were hardened, as if fossils had taken over his orbs and his face was a mean scowl and his hands were so far away from your body rolled into fists that it ached deep in your chest how much you were hurting him, “that I fell for it, for all of it, and I fell for you.”

Javier didn’t seem to realize what he had said, but you did and as he put distance between him and you, your eyes filled with thick tears once again, and you didn’t try to stop them from falling and falling and falling.

He fell. He fell for you.

How? How could you let everything go to that point? You knew you knew it, you fool.

Crash, crash, crash, crash.

Ugly, messy, bloody, heart wrenching.

“Was it worth it?” he asked, putting his hands on his waist once again, looking at you, expectant. You shook your head. “then why did you do it?”

His eyes on you were heavy, you remembered that time he looked at you in a crowded elevator and made you forget everything about yourself, and that time you wondered if he was ever going to look at you like that. And there, with him expecting the explanation you were offering, you had your answer.

And you saw him, standing before you, hands on hips, his thinking stance, waiting for you to finally deliver the so-called explanation you wanted and pleaded to give him. But your throat was closed, your voice was nowhere to be found, and you wanted to crawl into a ball and just rock yourself to a deep, all-forgetting sleep.

God, you were so tired.

It took you an entire minute to find your voice from the deep confines of your voided, pained chest.

“Re–remember what I told you the first time we mad–the first time we were… together?” you sobbed out. He closed his eyes and nodded.

How he could fucking forget? It had elated him, that entire fucking day, everything seemed so hopeful, he remembered thinking that he didn’t want to do what he did to you with anyone else. Before you could continue, he allowed himself to grieve that moment and you saw him raise a hand to his chest.

“That was true, most of it,” you assured him. Javier didn’t look at you once he opened his eyes and you, yet again, tried to search for his eyes. Fuck the hour you had let them become your comfort. “after what happened in México, I did get suspended and, fuck,” you brushed away your tears, freeing the way for new ones to fall “I really liked this job,” you chuckled sorely to yourself “but the drugs, and… everything else, I just knew I was screwed,” you sniffed. Javier bit the inside of his cheek and sighed.

Yet another fucking thing you two were more than alike.

He was hating it, loathing it; the way he wanted to brush every single goddamned tear that was falling down your face, the way he just wanted to reach to you, to let you feel him, the way he fucking needed to touch you and then wake up for whatever new fucking nightmare he was having.

“I was marked,” you choked down another sob and sniffed again, you hated being this vulnerable, this exposed, you were dropping your mask and the process of peeling it was so wretchedly painful. You hated that your vision was so flooded with tears you weren’t able to read Javier and just get a glance, a tiny peak at what he was feeling, “marked not only for being a woman, but by every single shitty thing I did up there,” he sighed “so, the CIA approached me, and took advantage of my situation.”

Javier wanted to scream, wanted to punch something, break anything, he wanted so much to stop relating to you and your reasons. It was as if he was looking at himself in the mirror and he didn’t like it. It was as if some all mighty God had already realized what he had done in the past and just started to punish him. And he was so angry that you were that punishment, that you, of all things, of everything he thought good, were the one chosen to deliver his punishment. 

You, oh so perfect you, so beautiful, so smart, so good, so strong you. You were the one chosen to break him. He wanted to stop seeing the undeniable parallel between you and him being forced to do things by the pure nature of your jobs, by leverage and advantage and just be angry, he just wanted to feel his anger and allow himself to hate you, but he just couldn’t. Not when you were there, standing in front of him, bawling out everything for him, undressing yourself to him, yet again, passing him the control of things. Ironic. He thought, he always had the impression he already had it.

“A precarious situation,” you explained, wetting your lips and taking a deep breath “they assured my job back if I took a six-month assignment for them, they wanted me to ke–”

“Keep an eye on me,” Javier cut you, looking at you with hardened, glistening eyes. You had to drop your gaze to the floor. What the fuck were you doing to him?

Fool, you fool, you stupid, horrible fool. Don’t you see you’re hurting him? Just leave him alone!

“Yeah,” you sighed out, sniffing again, seeing how your tears dropped straight to the floor, “and report all your movements back to them to… shit.”

“To what?”

You shook your head, not being able to lift your gaze from the floor, Javier looked at you and studied what he thought he knew about you. Which at that point he thought it was nothing but your actual name and the way your body quirked and spasmed under his touch. But maybe that was fake too. He saw the way you were hunched under yourself and an amazing yet brief moment of clarity struck him and he knew what you were going to say, fuck he knew, and he let himself smile at the expectation of your answer. For once having a little bit of a leverage.

“To avoid another Los Pepes scenario.” you whispered.

He laughed bitterly. And your chest shrunk at the sound.

Of fucking course.

That’s how you knew, that why you asked him about that the same fucking day you had told him about why you were in Colombia, the day you lied to him, to his face, on his bed, in his arms, after he had let you fuck him, after he had devoured you for the first time

Fucking shit, how he wanted to scream.

His smile became a snarl as soon as the memory of your body pressed against his came back to his head.

“Fuck me,” he shook his head and tightened his jaw.

“I didn’t understand at first why they looked at you like such a menace,” you said, not daring to look at him, and Javier hated it, he hated how you had hung your head low and looked at the carpeted floor, he hated it because he had seen you in your most confident self so many times, he had engraved in his mind the way you would handle yourself as if you were the owner of every building you ever stepped on, but then? right there? you just looked like a selfless child, like a hurt, abandoned girl. Fuck him. How could he keep thinking about you like that when while you looked like it you were destroying everything he had ever thought of you and whatever the fuck it was you two had? “then I met you.”

“So I’m a menace?” he snarked.

“For people like them? of course you are, Javier,” you let out a sigh and shook your head “they painted you as this… monster, that didn’t care about anything but getting shit done in any way you could,” you shrugged and lifted your head to look at him “but you do care, you care a lot.”

He didn’t say anything at the last statement you blurted out.

A thick, foggy silence fell upon you, you could feel it prickling around your face, eating your tears, you were sure that if you pulled out your tongue you could taste it, you could feel it, sneaking inside your ears and screaming at you. You never thought a silence could be so loud. But it was, a deafening silence.

Javier turned and walked to the desk, sitting on the edge and skimming through the other files that you had handed him, some of them were just more information about the corrupt politicians and some more about the cartel in itself. He didn’t say a word about the obvious and illicit origin of the files and for that you were grateful.

“I really thought,” your voice broke the silence again, and he seemed to ignore you “I thought I was doing good,” you closed your eyes, he wasn’t looking at you, yet again, “and then I got to see how things really were down here and… I knew instantly everything was just bullshit, just a fucking game,” Javier kept looking at the files and reading them and you wanted to beg him to look at you, you wanted to rush at him and grab his face and make him look at you in the eyes and tell you something, anything, to yell at you, to scream at you, because at the way his silence felt you were sure his screams would hurt less, “they played you, and they played me, and… I’m sorry.” 

“Why a DEA agent?” he questioned, closing the file he had just finished reading his hand resting on his thigh and the other on his hip, you frowned “why did they send down someone from the DEA instead of one of their own spies?”

You bit your lip, looking at the way his eyes were empty, void of any display of emotion, looking at the way he turned his face sterner, just as it was the first day you’d met him.

“Uh–because it was cheaper, to just create some sub-identity and I already knew the protocols.” you explained slowly, more for it to sink in to you than to him.

Javier hummed and returned his eyes to the next file, the one with your file. The real one.

You stood there while he read it. Trying to figure out what was going through his head, but as you were so emotionally spent you really couldn’t for the life of you read him anymore.

Javier felt his breath hitch as he read your real name, where you went to school, the fact that you had a master and the amount of time you had spent in México.

And then he chuckled. Under the name of your DEA adjacent’s name and your assigned partner there was your callsign: Flor.

He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and pointer and took a deep breath.

“What about your partner?” he cleared his throat “the one that sent you all that intel.”

Your chest dropped again and you felt your eyes fill with tears. Pure guilt and sadness.

“No one in México knew I got suspended, they just thought I got transferred, y’know?” you brushed the few tears that escaped your eyes “so I really did ask them for help, to give us anything on the narcos as we were aware of the connection,” Javier then saw you cover your mouth and sob “I fucking got Marcos fired.” your voice was muffled by your mouth and Javier had to, once again, fight the urge to grab you and pull you flush against his chest and comfort you.

“What else did you lie about?” he asked, not waiting for your sobs to die down, you shook your head.

“No–nothing, I sw–swear,” you sobbed out.

“Okay,” Javier stood from the desk and walked towards you. And for a second, a brief second, you allowed yourself to imagine that he wasn’t going to ask you what he did, and instead, he would brush your tears away, hold you or tell you that he forgave you. What a stupid little thought. “I think we’re done here.”

“Javi,” you called him and he flinched at how high pitched your voice became from the sobbing, he wasn’t looking at you, not really. His eyes were looking past you, “can you look at me?” you begged.

Fuck the hour you had let his eyes become your comfort.

“Get out,” he said, serious faced, lookin at nothing and everything but you.

“Jus–just, look at me? please?”

Javier closed his eyes, bit his lip and shook his head.

And pointed at the door.

“Right,” you tried to control the incoming sobs that were inundating your chest and throat and stood up straight, lining your shoulders and closing your eyes at how hard it was to leave, it was as if you had him glued to you and then you had to peel him off you, you looked at him one last time before turning around and walking towards the door, grabbing your bag in the way.

You didn’t even reach the door to the hallway when you exploded; you had to cover your mouth as you turned away from the entrance and propped yourself on the wall.

You felt like your heart might have actually stopped and you could only imagine how Javier felt.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you mumbled out, as if he had been still in front of you, as if he could listen.

You had to force yourself to walk into the open elevator and press the lobby button, because you knew that if you didn’t, you would’ve run back to his office and begged Javier to hold you, beg him to forgive you, even when you knew you didn’t deserve it.

Javier saw you walk out and watched your figure shrink at the office door, he had to close his eyes to stop from seeing the way you broke after everything you had told him. He had to turn around and grip the edge of the desk to physically stop himself from running to you, anchor himself to you and tell you he needed you.

Fuck the hour he had let your body become his comfort.

Once he was sure you weren’t there anymore, he opened his eyes, the files you had handed him were in front of him, one last file left to open.

Reluctantly, he took it and opened it.

“Shit,” he whispered. Feeling his breath hitch and his heart stop beating for half a second.

It was your resignation letter.

Just then, and only then, Javier let himself drown in his pain.

“Shit,” he spat through gritted teeth.

God how he wanted to hate you, he really wanted to hate you. But he couldn’t bring himself to turn all the love he had for you into hate. He couldn’t even when he really wanted to.

The guard at the front door didn’t even glance at you when you walked through the embassy doors, and for that you were grateful. When you realized you had driven with Javier to work, you had to cover your mouth again to muffle another sob.

You weren’t even outside the building yet and you were already missing him like crazy.

←previous // next→

pedrito's perma list: @queenofthefaceless​ @northernpunk​ @pascalesque​ @sleep-tight1​ @cheekygeek05​ @bii-aan-ckaa​ @letaliabane​ @starlightmornings​ @mouthymandalorianalso​ @supernaturalgirl​ @metalarmsandmanbuns​ @purplepascal042​ @asta-lily​ @greeneyedblondie44​

Javi's babies: @pulplorrd​

RushBit tag list: @shestillwrites1​ @absurdthirst​ @alliterative-albatross​ @disgruntledspacedad​ @thoughtfulpandawasteland​ @wifeofdindjarin​ @lank-sextburg @the-ginger-hedge-witch​ @helloannbananalove​ @diogodxlot​ @pascalslittlebrat​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @pedritobalmando​ @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan​ @mamacitapascal​ @dobbyjen​ @callsigncatfish​ @feminist-violinist​ @jasmincita​ @pascalove​ @eury-dice3​ @gingaahhhh

[jisungsplatforms]

[Chapter IV: You F*cking Minx!]

Pairing: Producer/Music Major! Han Jisung x Photographer! fem! reader

Genre: NSFW! Smut; non idol au, college au, strangers to lovers

Warnings: Mature Content! strong language, masterbation (m&f) (only implied this chapter), discussion of kinks, good old nudes & teasing Jisung ;)

Chapter Word Count: 2.8k (lol minus the emojis cause APPARENTLY, they count on docs)

Taglist: @hyunjeongins @seungstarss @es-kay-zee @hyunjinsplaything @formidxble @freckledquokka @lbxgsunshine @cartierbin @solistired @rainbowmagicpixecorn @http-hyxnjxn (want to be added? send an ask or a dm! <3)

You were starting to think that touching yourself every night was rather unhealthy...

It’s been over a week since you and Jisung met—a week since the both of you started your unspoken arrangement. Breathing heavily, you laid limply on your untidy bed, the only source of light available was the moon’s rays peeking through your curtains. The lower half of your body was completely rid of any clothing; the only thing covering your skin were splotches of your essence. Your phone then lit up with a notification from ‘Hannie Bear’.

1 new message(s) from Hannie Bear 🍯🧸

Hannie Bear 🍯🧸: u okay baby? do u wanna sleep now?

Using your unsoiled hand, you grabbed your phone and typed as best as you could.

Me: Nah, I still have a little bit of energy left in me

Hannie Bear 🍯🧸: really? cool lol

let’s chat for a bit

Me: Sure. Just hold on for a sec

You sat up and wiped your hand on the towel laid under you. Swinging one of your legs off the bed, you used your toes to pick up your garments from the floor, and quickly put them on. Two new notifications from Jisung appeared on your screen. You read his messages as you threw your dirted towel onto the floor.

Hannie Bear 🍯🧸: aight.

actually you know what? just call me please!

You laid back down and tapped on his icon, which now consisted of a selfie of himself from when he ‘needed to use’ your phone a few days ago, at the top of your screen to switch to the call screen. Your phone rang several times before Jisung answered. Through the phone, you could hear the faint sound of rustling and a groan.

“Hey,” he greeted with a raspy voice. You instinctively smiled when you heard him.

“Hey.”

Jisung cleared his throat before speaking. “So I was wondering, since— ah wait. Sorry, my throat’s kinda...”

“No, go ahead. I don’t mind.”

“Thanks,” he chuckled. “You should get some water too! You know, cause— yeah. After all that.”

You laughed, heart warming at his consideration. “Yeah. Thanks!” Bringing your phone with you, you walked to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. You set the call to speaker mode before putting your phone down to drink. Hearing the hilarious way Jisung took big gulps of water almost made you choke on your water.

He let out an over-exaggerated ‘ha!’ and said with a funny voice, “Refreshing!” Hearing your snort made Jisung smile. “Okay, so now that we’re both hydrated, I’ll tell you what I’ve been thinking.” You hummed to acknowledge him. “So, you know how we’ve been doing this for almost two weeks now, right?”

“Yeah…?” You picked up your phone to go back to your room.

“Okay. Well, we never really talked about, you know, things that we like.”

“Things that we like?”

“Yeah! You know what I mean?”

‘Huh?’ You thought about it for a few seconds before realizing what he was talking about. “Ohh. Do you mean our kinks?”

“There! That.”

You scoffed playfully. “I knew this conversation was bound to happen.”

“Well, then spill, girl!” Jisung said flamboyantly. “Don’t keep me waiting!”

You giggled. “Weirdo,” you whispered, softly grunting when you plopped onto your bed. “Where do you want me to start?”

“I don’t know. I guess just tell me like, what role you like playing in bed, or if you don’t even use roles at all.”

“Well, we’ve masterbated together long enough for you to know that I don’t mind either; sex is sex and it should be enjoyable, whether or not there are sub/dom roles...but I do like being submissive.”

“Oh, right. Nice,” he snickered, “Okay, now what? Vanilla or Kinky?”

“Kinky, all that way.” Jisung wanted to laugh at how fast that answer came out. “Of course, there’s nothing wrong vanilla sex, in fact, it’s very much appreciated in this household.”

“Ahh. Someone of culture. I respect that.” The both of you chuckled. “So, what are some things you want to be done to you?”

“Like, receiving?” Jisung hummed in confirmation. “I guess I like being marked? And being praised and using pet names, but of course, who doesn’t?”

“I feel you, I feel you,” he nodded on the other side of the phone. “I like that too.”

“I also like being tied up.”

Jisung sat up, wide eyed. “Rope-bunny?!”

You guffawed, hearing him so shocked like that. “What? Surprising? Remember, no kink shaming!”

“No no! It’s not like that it’s just-” he sighed through puffed cheeks, “wow, that’s fucking hot.”

“Thanks,” you giggled. “But that’s only the beginning.”

“Shit, there’s more? Holy fuck— please tell me.”

“Overstimulation & edging, I think that’s fucking hot too.” You could hear Jisung’s breath hitch on the phone, making you smirk. “I also really like choking and being able to see myself getting fucked; I think there’s a name for it, but I forgot.”

Not hearing his reply, you snorted before continuing. “And I have the biggest breeding kink ever. You know what I say: the messier the sex, the better.” You stopped when you heard Jisung take a deep breath.

“Whoa, Y/n. I-” he signed. “Let me calm down before I pop another boner ‘cause of you.”

You felt a surge of pride run through you. “What? Too much?”

“Oh, fuck no. Just insanely hot.”

You laughed, adjusting yourself to lay on your stomach. “Too bad. There was still a lot more I wanted to say,” you grinned. “You should tell me what you like then, baby. I need to know how I could please you too.”

“Hmm,” he thought to himself for a while. “So you already know that I like filthy, kinky sex too and that I usually take up the dom role but if I have to be honest. I’ve always wanted to try subbing.”

“Really?” you smiled evilly. ‘How interesting’

“Yup. I mean, I like being babied, so I think I’d really like it.”

“Oh? Would you like to try it sometime, baby boy?”

The line went dead silent for a while, filling you with worry. All of a sudden, when you were about to ask Jisung if he was okay, he whimpered. “Please?” he muttered, and you swore you could already see him pouting. Now it was your turn to take a deep breath.

“Hold on, baby boy. We both just finished touching ourselves not too long ago. Let’s do this another time.”

“Aww...Boo. You’re no fun,” Jisung’s usual cheeky self returned.

You rolled your eyes. “Sorry, but I already came 3 times tonight. Let my vagina rest, Sung.”

“Fair,” he laughed. “Does that mean I get to sub next time?”

“Hm… If you’re nice to me, then yes.”

“Oh baby, you know i’ll be the best behavior if it means getting topped by you.”

Instead of feeling horny, you only felt playfulness behind his words. “Good. I’ll be sure to give my baby a treat tomorrow then.” Jisung cheered giddily, fueling your own amusement. “By the way, what’s with the kink talk? I mean, I knew it was gonna come eventually but still.”

You couldn’t see it, but Jisung shrugged at your question. “Well, if we’re gonna be together, then I need to know everything about you that you enjoy.” Your face dropped, your chest swelling in adoration and alarm. Not hearing a response from you made him panic. “Uh- unless you don’t wanna be a thing! That-that’s fine too...i guess, w-whatever! I just—!”

Jisung stopped when he heard you giggle. “You’re so cute, Sung.” You softly said in content. “It’s getting late, baby. I’ll see you in the morning, hm?”

“Y-yeah! See you in Jung’s class, baby!”

You ended the call then slid your phone under your pillow. Pulling your blanket all the way up to your chin, you squirmed around until you were comfortable enough to sleep. The only thing in your mind was Jisung and how much your relationship with him developed way too fast. It was a little...frightening for your fragile heart.

2nd Period; Mrs. Jung’s Renaissance Literature class. Probably the most boring class ever. Everyday, you regret ever signing up for it.

You begrudgingly walked to class, purposely taking small, slow steps so you don’t have to be there on time. However, as boring as the class is, the only reason why you find it tolerable is because it is the only class you share with Jisung. Looking up, you found yourself in front of your Literature class, much to your dismay. Grumbling, you stepped inside the room to find Jisung already at his (now) usual place at the back of the class, right beside you. ‘Weird,’ you thought, seeing how it’s usually you who comes to class before him. Jisung looked up, feeling eyes on him from the front of the class, and smiled when he saw it was just you. He gestured for you to come over to him; your heart racing as you stepped closer to him.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted happily, watching you take your seat beside him.

“Hi, Sungie,” you replied, setting your camera bag onto the floor under your legs and taking your laptop out of your bag. Feeling Jisung staring at you, you tched jokingly. “Am I that attractive that you can’t keep your eyes off of me?” you laughed. What you didn’t expect, however, was Jisung’s blunt response.

“Yes.”

“O-oh? Uh…”

“I thought I made it clear that I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life,” he said truthfully, giving you a bright smile. Your eyes were wide, face heating up at his straight-forwardness. He threw you a flirty wink and chuckled, going back to sit up straight at his own seat. Flustered, you hid your face with your hoodie, tightening the drawstrings to further conceal your blush. From beside you, you could hear Jisung snort, trying not to laugh at you. Before you could scold him, the bell rang and Mrs. Jung entered the class.

Jisung’s drowsy eyes wandered the whole room for the umpteenth time. His ears only shut out the mundane information his instructor was teaching. Something about a Scottish poet named George Lauder being responsible for the advancement of the steel industry or whatever? ‘Man, what does that have to do with the renaissance era?’ It’s only been 30 minutes since the class started and he already wanted to get out of here. No matter how hard he tried focusing on the lesson, the words only went through one ear and out the other. Needless to say, it way too uninteresting for him to retain anything.

His eyes then traveled to your hunched form. He had to resist the urge to pull out his phone and take a picture of your cute face all scrunched up in concentration, your figure engulfed by the oversized purple hoodie you were wearing. In the midst of his ogling, Jisung felt a gentle kick on his right leg. His eyes focused to finally notice you side eyeing him. It was as if you were telling him ‘pay attention or else’. All he did was grin and continued gawking at you.

You rolled your eyes, deciding to not mind him and try paying attention to Mrs. Jung; even if you yourself thought the class was boring as hell. You then feel a warm hand on your left thigh. Since it was just Jisung, you shrugged his hand off of you and typed in the shared doc you both created just to talk in this class. You typed:

‘What are you doing?’

Leaning over to his own screen, Jisung read the message on his laptop then replied.

‘babe i’m sorry but i’m so fucking bored’

‘Me too, but you gotta pay attention, baby boy’

‘hmm i love it when you call me baby boy ;)’

You side-glanced him with a ‘are you serious?’ look while he merely smirked, wiggling his eyebrows as if it would seduce you.

‘Funny. Don’t you dare get horny in the middle of class, Han Jisung!’

‘:)’

Jisung made a quiet sputtering noise as he put his head down onto the table. From the corner of your eyes, you could see him fiddling his platform sneakers with his feet. You restrained yourself from laughing at him. He looked exactly like an annoyed kid on the verge of throwing a tantrum. You shook your head. ‘The poor man is really trying’

Sneakily sliding your phone into your pocket, you stood up from your seat, the chair making a slight screech, catching Jisung’s—as well several other students’— brief attention, to head to the front of the class. Signing your name into the ‘restroom log’, you briefly pointed to the door when you made eye contact with Mrs. Jung, and went to the restroom. You grinned to yourself, thinking about how Jisung would react to his little gift.

The painfully bored boy watched as you left the room. He pouted, his boredom only increased tenfold without you. He went back to his laptop, clicking on another tab to do something, when he felt his phone vibrate from his back pocket. He jolted. ‘Who the hell would text me while I’m in the middle of class?’ Jisung slowly took out his phone to check his notifications. Seeing your name on the screen, he stared in confusion.

‘Y/n? What’re you doing?’ Glancing to see if Mrs. Jung could see him, he unlocked his phone to read your message.

My baby 💘: Remember what I said last night?

Many thoughts, none of which were pg, raced through his mind. ‘What exactly are you talking about?’ He adjusted his keyboard to properly type with one hand.

Me: depends

are we talking about me subbing or your “gift”?

My baby 💘: Hmm sure. You’ll see 😉

Jisung nearly let out an audible ‘huh?’ because of your rather cryptic message. Not wanting to get caught, he hid his phone between his legs and waited for your next text. After almost a minute, this phone vibrated again. Big Mistake…

Strike 1!

‘God, Han Jisung, you fucking idiot!’ The shock unintentionally sent waves of pleasure between his legs, almost coaxing out a whimper from his mouth. He cleared throat, trying to ignore the erection that was threatening to pop up, and inconspicuously took his phone.

Strike 2!

If Jisung died at that very moment, then he wouldn’t even be mad. No regrets or anger whatsoever for his eyes was blessed with the most salacious photo of yourself. There you were, sweater pulled up to show off the lacy red bra that adorned your breasts—your arms deliberately squeezing them together to make them even more tempting than they already are—and pants pulled down enough to show a cheeky glimpse of the matching set of panties hugging your hips. Jisung swore he could feel his blood rushing to his dick and nose; he even went as far as wiping it in case he really did get a nosebleed.

‘Y/n, you minx...’’

Me: baby…

what you’re doing is very dangerous for the both of us

My baby 💘: Oh? Are you sure you didn’t forget what we talked about, baby boy

Jisung anxiously looked back and forth from his phone to his teacher. He covered his mouth when you sent another shameless nude to him. Now it was a picture of your hands cupping your breasts, your bra unclasped, threatening to slide off your shoulders. How you managed to take the photo was beyond Jisung’s comprehension. Though, now that he’s as turned on as a horny 13 year old boy on a porn site for the very first time, it’s safe to say that there was nothing on his mind except you, and you only.

He set his keyboard back to its default mode and put his head down, fingers hastily tapping on his phone to reply.

Me: come on baby

please don’t do this to me

i’m hard. i really popped a boner in the middle of class…

this is fucking embarrassing

Jisung just knew that you were laughing at him, finding great joy in his predicament. He subtly adjusted himself to do something about his hard-on. ‘So fucking embarrassing’ He blushed, biting his lip. He silently prayed to whatever deity out there that his erection was unnoticeable through his sweatpants; he was so grateful that you two sat at the back of the class. His phone buzzed again, it was another message from you.

Strike 3!

He’s out…

My baby 💘: It’s mommy for you today, baby boy 😉😉

Above was a picture of you...Bra hanging from your mouth...Your pearly teeth biting down on one of the straps...Pants off...Panties moved to the side...Showing off your dripping core to the camera...Your fingers threatening to slide inside your core…

Somebody please help this poor man. He might get a heart attack because of you. And if he doesn’t die from that, then it might be because of the rage of sexual frustration he felt when you came back with a seemingly innocent smile on your face. Jisung was just lucky nobody noticed his hard cock throbbing the rest of the session. More importantly, thank god Mrs. Jung is an oblivious old woman.

‘Y/n L/n, you FUCKING MINX!’

[PREVIOUS CHAPTER] 📱 [NEXT CHAPTER]

[tonystarksfavoritedaughter]

Crazy Rich Avengers

Chapter 1:

Summary: You and Peter have been dating for a little over 6 months and have not yet met the Avengers. You were getting curious as to when you would meet them, until you get an invitation from Tony Stark himself, inviting you and Peter to Wanda and Vision’s wedding in Hawaii over Spring Break. You thought that it would be nice to go and finally meet everyone, but what will you think after you’ve been tested by the team?

*Based on the movie Crazy Rich Asians, each chapter will be a different scene from the movie. There will be 15 chapters. Also includes a GIF from the movie scene at the beginning of each chapter.

A/N: I’ve had this series planned for a little while now, and I just got this chapter done and edited and I feel really good about it. I didn’t know if anyone would want to read this until I posted about it yesterday and got some really good feedback, so thank you all who liked it and asked to be on the taglist so much! This chapter is the first scene of the movie, just some things are switched up to fit Peter and the Avengers. Just note that this one is kind of short and nothing much really happens in this chapter since it is just the beginning, but hopefully the next one is a bit juicer. 

Warnings: swearing and fluff 

Word count: 2166

Chapter 1

“Okay class, make sure to email me those presentations by Monday. I don’t want to keep reminding you guys over Spring Break because I’ve still got a life outside being a professor.” The whole class laughs at your professor’s bluntness. It kind of reminds you of your friend from high school, who would always spoke her truth, even when no one asked for it. You packed your things and waited for a clear space to exit your row. Who knew so many kids would be in a business class? Not you apparently. You were a culinary student at the Institute of Culinary Education or ICE for short. Your dream was to become a baker and own your bakery, hence the business class. This was your last class of the day, and you couldn’t wait to see your boyfriend. You two had been dating for a little over six months and it was the best six months you could ever ask for.

You exited out of the classroom, finally, and made your way towards the elevator. On the way down, you looked through your messages and saw that you had five new texts from Peter.

Peter: Hey babe! I’m out of my photography class now. (1:15)

Peter: Waiting by the couches (1:15)

Peter: I miss you (1:17)

Peter: I’m hungry. Let’s go to that pizza place for lunch. I really want some of their cannoli’s (1:20)

Peter: Y/NNN!!! WHERE ARE YOU??? (1:23)

The elevator stopped at the lobby and you walked over to Peter, who sprang out of his seat and practically ran over to you. He hugged with the force of what you assumed felt like ten tons just based on how tight he held you. You laughed at his clinginess and pushed him off of you.

“Dude my class ran like ten minutes late. What’s the matter with you?” you laugh.

He held your hand in his own and smiles at you. “Just missed you is all. Did you see my text about the cannoli’s?”

“Yeah I saw it.”

“And?” he asks hopefully.

“Aaaaaand what?” you played dumb just to see his cute pouty face.

“Can we get cannoli’s?”

“Yes, we can get a cannoli.”

“Ah! You’re the best! Cannoli’s!” he yells at an insane volume for someone who’s just walking down the street. This earns you both a weird look from the people on the sidewalk. You were about to kiss his cheek until he just took off down the street with your hand still in his. You guessed you never knew he liked cannoli’s so much. Maybe you should try out a recipe and make him some one day.

You get into the pizza restaurant and sit down across from each other and waited for the waiter to take your order. You order your drinks; Peter gets Diet Pepsi and you get a Sprite. Both of you talk about how your classes went and held each other’s hand while you talked.

“So, I’ve got to do this project for my class,” Peter began, “And my camera is at the Compound, so tomorrow I’ll be a little late getting home.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Oh! Speaking of which,” you slam your palms on the table, which makes Peter jump a little. “When am I going to meet them? I mean we’ve been dating for going on seven months now, and I still haven’t met them. And I know they know about me because I got a message from Nat telling me happy birthday two weeks ago.” You raise an eyebrow at him waiting for his answer.

“Speaking of said topic, that reminds me. We got invited to Wanda and Vision’s wedding. And it is next Friday in Hawaii, which is perfect because a) we don’t have classes because it’s Spring Break, and b) I know Hawaii is one of your bucket list places.”

Your jawed dropped for several reasons. One, it’s Wanda and Vision’s fucking wedding! You never met them, but from the way Peter talked about them, you could tell they were meant to be. You always thought that they were like what you and Peter had times one hundred.

“Are you serious? They’re having their wedding in Hawaii?”

“Yeah. They thought that since Mr. Stark – “

“What can I get you two today?” the waiter asked breathless. You didn’t even realize how busy they were.

You looked up at him, “I’ll have a slice of the cheese pizza please?”

“And I’ll have two slices of the meat lovers. And can I get three of your best cannoli’s please?” Peter smiled at the waiter as he wrote down your order.

“Alright that’ll be right out.” He walked away almost jogging to get your order in. Goodness they were slammed.

“As I was saying,” Peter continued. “Mr. Stark has one of those beach houses in Maui and so, they thought that it would be the perfect place for them to tie the knot.”

“Wow, so, we’re invited? Like we’re going to Maui and attending the wedding? And meeting everyone?” you asked now slightly worried.

“Yeah,” he drags out confused. “That’s what kind of what ‘You’re Invited’ means.”

“I know, it’s just…this will be the first time I’m meeting them and I always imagined it would be at a like Sunday dinner type of thing. Not a fucking Avengers wedding!”

“It’s okay, I know they’re gonna love you no matter what.”

You take a sip of your drink, “This is also works out for another reason because MJ has been asking us to come see her ever since she moved to Kahului.”

“All the more reason to go.”

You both get your food and Peter immediately starts on the cannoli’s that he’s been longing to eat and practically moans at the taste of them. You get the check and pay and tipped extra for your waiter, because they need to be paid way more than minimum wage. The two of you walk out and head home so you can spend the rest of the night together.

“So, when do we leave for Maui?” you ask, swinging your intertwined hands between the two of you.

“Umm, I believe on Saturday.”

Today was Thursday so that means that you only had tonight and tomorrow to pack for a whole entire week. “Shit! I have almost no clothes washed, are you kidding me?” you yell. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“I just found out this morning!” he yelled back.

“Okay, well it’s a good thing tomorrow I don’t have classes because now I have to do laundry all damn day.” You reach your shared apartment and go to change clothes and you go straight to the laundry room, faster than Peter could imagine. All of your good, cute clothes had to be air dried and so that’s what you did first. After half hour of folding, and drying, and hanging up clothes non-stop, Peter came in wrapped his arms around you.

“Baby, you’ve been here for forever, come sit down with me,” he pleaded.

“I will once I have all the clothes done, but until then,” you pat his cheek. “I can’t.”

He sighs an ‘okay’ and plants a kiss on your cheek and walks away. About twenty minutes later you had gotten all the laundry done and went to join Peter on the couch. He was watching reruns of Brooklyn 99 which was one of your favorite shows. He put his arms out and made grabby hands and you leaned into his touch. You laid your head on his chest with the rest of your body sprawled out on the couch. He put his arm around your shoulders and kissed the top of your head. You looked up and kissed his lips and sat up just a bit straighter. One of his hands went to the back of your neck and the other rubbed your thigh, and you relaxed even more into him. Your right hand carded through his hair and the other sat splayed on his peck, slightly gripping his shirt. You two stayed like this for what felt like hours, just basking in each other’s comfort. You pulled back to breathe and gave him one last kiss before going back to your original position, laying on him.

“What do you wanna watch?” He yawned.

“Well since your yawning and –“ you yawned this time. “And so am I, let’s just take a nap.”

He hummed in agreement and led you to your shared bedroom and he changed into just a pair of sweatpants. You laid down and he did shortly after. You turned, facing him as your chests were touching. You stared at him for quite a long time before you even realized that you were. His face scrunched up that was so cute you wanted to take a picture.

“What?”

“Nothing. You just look cute,” you said back.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Nope. I do,” he challenged.

“That’s impossible because I love you to Jupiter and back,” you kissed his nose, ultimately shutting it down because you were tired. School had kicked your ass this week and you hadn’t really had anytime to just lay with Peter. You scooted down a bit so, you could lay your head on his chest, your legs intertwined, as he held you against him so tight that nothing could slip in between you two.

The next morning you had woken up extra early to make some French toast for you and Peter. You got out the bread and butter and the rest of the ingredients and started cooking. Since you were the one who was in the culinary department, the silent agreement between you and Peter was that you would cook, and he would clean your mess. You tried to not make too much of a mess, because you weren’t that mean. After a couple more minutes you got breakfast done and at that exact moment you put the toast on the plate, Peter comes waddling out with his hair a mess. It was almost like it was scripted like a scene in a movie.

“I smelled French Toast,” he smiled.

“Mhm, I thought that I would be nice and cook breakfast for you this time.” You pecked his cheek and gave him the syrup.

“Eat up and get ready for a long day of packing suitcases, babe,” you winked at him.

“Oh boy.” You didn’t hear his sarcasm often, but when you did it always made you chuckle.

He went over to the couch and you followed setting up the coffee table and turning on Spongebob to watch as you ate. You turned towards him and smiled and received a kiss on the nose. Today was going to be a good day, you thought.

It was now four thirty in the evening and you and Peter were packing up all your belongings into your suitcases. “Okay so you need your swim trunks, flip flops, sunglasses, and what else?” You ask.

“Is that just for swimming?” You nodded. “Then yeah I think that’s it.” You went over to his drawer grabbing his trunks out along with your swimsuit. You had all your clothes spread out into separate piles consisting of swimwear, pajamas, nice shirts, casual shirts, and wedding attire. Peter grabbed all of his clothes and stuffed them into his suitcase and you did the same. After that you went to the bathroom to grab all extra stuff that consisted of teeth and hair products, and everything in that category. Peter went into the kitchen to the medicine and started to pack anything that might be needed for allergy’s and whatnot. You figured you would pack your purse of carry on items before you left tomorrow morning.

After two hours of packing and double checking, and once the bed was cleared, you flopped down face first and groaned. “I’m so exhausted,” you huffed.

“Aww, is my baby tired?” He asked this as he pressed feather-light kisses to your neck that always made you shudder.

“Yes,” you say as you awaited a kiss on the lips. He happily kisses you, slow and lovingly, and you feel like you could stay there for eternity. He pulls away for minute to catch his breath. “We should probably figure out what we want to do for dinner.”

“How ‘bout leftovers? There’s still some enchiladas or lemon pepper chicken in the fridge.”

“Ooooh, let’s do chicken.”

You get up from the bed to heat the chicken up in the oven. “Imma make some garlic cheesy rice too!” You shout from the kitchen.

“Sounds good, baby.”

You two make your dinner and eat in a comfortable silence, watching TV. You both decided to watch one more episode of Parks and Rec before calling it a night, and Peter figured it would be smart to go to bed early since you would both have a long day of checking flights and meeting the Avengers tomorrow; and that was tiring by itself.

Tag-List: @randomstufflol29​ @spideyspeaches​ @binnotjin​