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221bshrlocked · 1 year

Text

i remember...

Pairings: Captain Rex x afab! Jedi Reader

Words: 8579

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending. Mutual Pining. Some mention of blood loss but it’s not graphic. Love Confessions due to anesthesia-like fluids. I make up some random stuff about bacta so just ignore that bit please. Sad Rex. Heated Make-Out Session. Oral (female receiving). Squirting. Oversensitivity. Biting. Slight Dirty Talk. Penetrative, Unprotected Sex (wrap the shlong before you king kong my dudes). Breeding Kink. Creampie. Rex being a gentleman after sex.

Summary: “You’re s-safe, thank the Force.” His hold on you tightens when you hiss in pain, but you never once turn away from him, wanting to commit every moment to memory. If you survive this, you are sure you will never come this close to him again. But if you die, oh, if you die, then you would have spent your last seconds showing him how much he means to you.

A/N: This is for @imarvelatthestars who is also taking part in the @cloneficgiftexchange. I hope you enjoy this and I can’t wait for you to read the two other fics as well. Also, hi it’s nice to meet you :) This was originally going to be just fluff but my hands slipped and they went all the way so I hope you don’t mind. P.S. This is the first time I write for our dear Captain so I hope I got his character down correctly. If not, please let me know how I can write him better. As always, reblogs are appreciated.

It was becoming unbearable, mustering up the courage to fight every day in a war that meant absolutely nothing, that held no benefits for anyone except for those in political standings. The feeling of dread only worsened in the past few months, almost as soon as you were added to the 501st as another General. Count Dooku’s thirst for blood has increased, and you had this fear that it wasn’t only him. No, there was something much bigger playing at hand.

Perhaps someone even.

Shaking the dreadful thoughts aside, you scan the grounds quickly to see if any of your men were still alive. As you walk through the carnage, you will yourself to come to terms with the reality of this new life that has been thrust upon you, the recognition that it was most likely worse for your men making you wince angrily before returning to the task at hand.

“General,” the familiar voice of your Captain shifts your attention behind you, and you nod with an exasperation you’re sure is visible to him as you head towards his equally fatigued body.

“Any news on whether Anakin managed to get the intel?” You rub the side of your temple as you wait for Captain Rex to focus on you instead of his dead brothers surrounding you.

“He uh, he didn’t get there in time. He thinks one of the super tactical droids destroyed everything before it self-destructed.” You can hear the disappointment in his voice, and you look into his eyes for a moment to gauge his reaction. Grief swims in his eyes as he returns your gaze, and you hate that you don’t have to look at him to know what’s going through his mind. His Force signature is a cool shade of blue, one that parallels the lines adorning his armor, and your heart clenches when you see how different it is from the normally calming purple hue often surrounding him and setting your mind at ease. You’re reminded once again of just how much of a toll this war is taking on him and his brothers, and you turn away from him out of fear of bursting into tears and making matters worse.

If only you could comfort him beyond what’s deemed appropriate.

If only you could tell him how you feel.

“Don’t worry General, we’ll get them next time.” You hate that he’s trying to make you feel better when it is you who should be offering him supporting words. No words manage to part your lips, and you hum at him as you kick one of the battle droids nearby, trying to distract yourself from pushing past those hidden boundaries and embracing him in an attempt to return those affections he so clearly pushed upon you.

Just as you walk around him, you sense a strange feeling overtake your mind, and you glance to the side quickly, not really thinking of what you’re doing as you step in front of the Captain and activate your lightsaber. The sequence of the blaster shots drives your anger deeper, and you evade them to the best of your abilities, away from Rex and yourself until they each hit the battle droid attempting to kill you.

Scanning the area one last time, your mouth runs dry when you turn around and watch pure and utter shock display as clear as daylight on your Captain’s features. Pushing the weapon back into the holster around your hips, you smile at him to let him know that he would always be safe with you, only to tilt your head in confusion when he doesn’t return the gesture. You follow his line of sight and watch as the adrenaline of the battle leaves your body and makes way for a searing hot pain shooting through your side. Pushing your palm against your hip, you take it away and find it laced with fresh blood.

“C-Commander?”

In all the time you have spent with Rex, you have never once heard him display such unadulterated fear, not when he was near death all those months ago, nor when he thought there was no escape for him and his brothers after a particularly draining battle.

“Rex.”

You whisper his name as you fall to your knees, but strong arms reach for you before you hit the ground, turning you over and pushing violently against the wound to prevent it from bleeding.

“Kriff, why- why would you…you shouldn’t have-” He can’t get a single word out, and you try your best to set aside the pain shooting through your body so you can enjoy being in his arms. You feel your muscles give out, barely allowing you to reach up and caress his cheek. You don’t realize you’ve painted his beautiful skin with blood until you see tears rolling down his cheeks and stream a pink line to his chin.

“You’re s-safe, thank the Force.” His hold on you tightens when you hiss in pain, but you never once turn away from him, wanting to commit every moment to memory. If you survive this, you are sure you will never come this close to him again. But if you die, oh, if you die, then you would have spent your last seconds showing him how much he means to you.

“Stay with me, mesh’la.” He leans down and rests his forehead against your own, distracting you enough before he lifts you in his arms and runs to the nearest gunship. You clutch onto his shoulder like your life depends on it, unable to hold back from crying as each movement sends throbbing stabs down your spine and across your hip. You can faintly hear his apologies, and you rest your head against his shoulder to distract yourself once again. This close, you can smell his natural scent, and you shiver when you recognize how musky and sweet it is as it seeps through your senses.

You think you hear him call for Kix, but you can’t stay awake for much longer, the blood loss and your body’s fatigued nature taking over as soon as you get on the gunship. Rex puts you down with ease, but he snaps your name harshly when he sees you shutting your eyes and going limp in his arms again.

“Don’t close your eyes,” it’s his Captain voice, and you laugh at the demanding tone he’s aiming at you, only to cough violently and clutch at your side when your body jolts forward.

“I thought I g-give the orders here?” He doesn’t bother to smile at you, and you hate that he knows you’re only trying to diffuse the tension. When you look up at him, you find him frowning down at you, the blue aura around him now turning even darker as he looks around to see if Kix is nearby.

You gulp as the ship comes to life, and the harder you try to remain awake, the more tired your mind becomes. As you look around you, you find several of the men staring at you with worry etched on their features, and you feel a sense of peace wash over you at the thought of being so important to them. You can no longer keep yourself conscious, and just as you turn your head to the side and see Kix jumping into the gunship, you surrender to a deep sleep filled with midnight blue embraces and loving words.

A bright light wakes you from your haze, and you flutter your eyes quickly to get used to the blinding rays shining down on you. You try to get up immediately but a hand to your shoulder keeps you laying down, and you look to the side to see Kix whispering calming words to you.

“You nearly gave us a fright Commander,” he says after a while, and you look around to try and figure out where you are, only to find an extremely uncomfortable and worried Captain standing by your bed.

“Rex…”

“What were you thinking, hmm?” He snaps harshly at you, making you furrow your eyebrows in curiosity before you turn to Kix. Before you can say anything, Kix walks around and pushes Rex’s chest, urging him to move back and calm himself.

“You may be the Captain, but I outrank you here. I will not have you yelling at one of my patients. Understand?” His tone is firm, and you giggle at the thought of hearing one of Rex’s men not minding getting physical with him.

“I…feel weird.” You sigh deeply and look down, only to see several tubes coming in and out of your skin.

“That would be the Bacta IV. You weren’t doing so well Commander, a simple bacta patch wouldn’t have done the trick.” Kix removes himself from Rex but remains in between the two of you, checking on the needles one last time before moving to the other end of the room. You watch as he makes himself busy, and whatever conscious part of your mind thinks that he’s only pretending so he can give the two of you some privacy.

“To answer your question Captain, I- uhhh…I wasn’t thinking.” You drag the sheets down your body, suddenly feeling flushed as Rex continues to stare at you with a fiery anger you never thought him capable of.

“Actually, that’s…n-not true. I was thinking…but- you know what I mean.” You are not making much sense, and when Rex sighs before pulling up a chair to sit next to you, you smile at you and reach for his hand. He takes it reluctantly but never once looks at you. Neither of you say anything for a while, and you slowly begin to fall asleep when he continues to rub your wrist with his thumb.

“What were you thinking mesh’la…”

It’s a rhetorical question, or at least, you would have recognized that it is had you been more aware and less drugged. You open your eyes and gaze into his own, finding them filled with unshed tears. He looks defeated, and you frown at him while you tug on his hand to bring him closer to you.

“Don’t…don’t cry. It makes me sad to see you cry Rex.”

He chuckles then and you smile at him, rubbing the back of his hand in return to soothe him a little.

“I was thinking of you, and- and how it would kill me if I were to lose you. I can’t lose you Rex, I- I would not survive another day without you…I love you too much to let you go.” You’re not sure why the room is suddenly silent. All you know is, Rex’s Force signature has turned a deep shade of red and his fingers stopped drawing patterns on your skin. You think you hear Kix turn around but you’re too busy looking into the Captain’s eyes to register anything that’s not him.

“Mesh’la,” you want to ask him what the word means, but your eyes grow heavy yet again, and you rest your cheek on the pillow while gazing into his hazel, brown orbs. Before you can say anything else, you fall right back to sleep, completely missing Rex’s reaction to your confession and Kix’s reassurances that you were stable but required to rest further.

You dream of a time filled with peace, of longing gazes and soft caresses. Your mind fills your heart with hopes and wishes, ones you pretend are not impossible to reach. Your heart, once guarding a close-kept secret, finally feels as light as a feather, and it clenches softly when it hears revelations of a similar love, words yo uneven thought would be reciprocated as desperately.

It’s this last sensation that wakes you again, except this time, you’re less dazed than before but much more awake. Sitting up quickly, you study the room you’re in and take a few deep breaths to try and collect your bearings.

“Commander, you’re safe. You’re alive and safe. Breathe, breathe for me.” You look up and watch as Kix guides you through breathing techniques, and only when you’re relaxed and aware of your surroundings do you finally notice the other figure standing nearby.

“How long have I been out?” You ask as you look down and move the medbay gown to the side to see the wound. It’s fully healed and you throw Kix a quick glance, silently thanking him for everything that he has done for you.

“Almost 22 hours, sir. It’s quite remarkable actually, most people would take much longer to heal, even with the bacta. Then again, you’re a Jedi after all.” He checks your vitals, not bothering to mention that Rex is in the room. When he’s sure you’re all clear, he steps aside and finishes some reports on his holopad. You look to your right and watch as Rex slowly approaches you, sitting down on a chair near your bedside and slowly reaching for your hand. You’re surprised by the gesture but don’t deny him, looking back to Kix to see if he is aware of what his Captain is doing.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like a bantha ran me over,” you laugh at your own reply, but Rex doesn’t grace you with a hint of a smile. There is something nagging at the back of your mind, and you narrow your eyes at your joined hands, only to gasp lightly when he rubs your wrist and moves closer to you. If Kix notices what’s happening, he says nothing and turns around to give you some privacy.

“Do you…do you remember anything?” Rex asks reluctantly, and you get the sense that he wants to tell you something but is holding back out of fear of your reaction.

“I remember walking through the battle, and…and talking with you. I remember a droid trying to shoot at you but I took him down before he hurt you. And…I remember getting shot at.” You recollect the events of the last rotation to the best of your abilities, and when you stop speaking, you notice Rex’s aura shift to a cool haze once more.

Kriff, what was it?

“You don’t remember anything else?” He asks yet again, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion, his tone of voice bordering that of a man who has just lost everything he ever had.

“I- I uhh…no. I don’t.” You shake your head several times to figure out if he was referring to anything specific. When you turn to Kix to ask him if he knows what his Captain is talking about, you notice an apologetic expression on his features, one that was not aimed at you but his brother. Before you can say anything, Rex lets go of your hands, making you wish you can give him whatever answer he was searching for.

“I see,” it’s all Rex says before he stands up and pushes the chair back to the wall. You watch as he takes a stance and salutes you, his eyes never meeting your own again as he thanks you for saving him before running out of the room. You don’t turn away from the shut door until Kix walks by and checks your vitals again.

There is so much you want to ask him, but knowing Kix, you get the sense that he wouldn’t tell you even if you begged. He was good at keeping secrets, always has been.

“You’re cleared to leave General, though I do suggest you take it easy for the next few days. You may have physically healed but the psychological strain will take longer to get back to normal. Will you be needing any pain medication?” Kix asks as he takes out all of the needles and tubes from your arms, and you shake your head while you look up at him, hoping that you find whatever answer Rex was looking for swimming in his eyes. He avoids your gaze altogether, and you shut your eyes in irritation at the thought of upsetting Rex.

Maker, what was it?

You do your best to not take your frustration out on Kix as you get dressed, and before you leave, you thank him for taking care of you for the past rotation. He offers you his best wishes before returning to his seat and you make your way back to your quarters in the Jedi Temple slowly, all the while trying to figure out what transpired that made Rex ask you several times if you remembered anything, but more importantly, what you could have possibly said that upset Rex so much and made him leave without sparing you a second glance.

You keep to yourself as you head to your rooms, searching your mind for any clue as to what has happened after the battle. When you finally make it to the privacy of your space, you remove all of your clothes and go straight to the refresher, wanting to get rid of the blood and grime that has stuck to your skin for the past day. But no matter what you do, you can’t remember anything past the battlefield, and you feel your mind almost collapse on itself when the annoyance of memory loss turns into sheer anger.

Force above, what was it?

It occurs to you much later than you would care to admit that there was no way you can recall anything if you’re this unstable, and against your better judgment, you make your way to one of the meditation rooms instead of getting some rest as Kix suggested. As soon as you enter the quiet place, you move near one of the fountains, finding the consistent sound of water soothing to your soul. As you sit down, you take a few deep breaths and clear your mind of anything not related to the Captain of the 501st.

As you initially thought, it’s much more difficult to focus your mind when all you can feel is guilt for making Rex feel so disappointed and sad. You recall back all of the conversations you’ve held with him, especially the ones that lasted for an entire night as you kept watch before a serious battle. You remember the snide remarks aimed at Anakin, and the jokes he often laughed at the expense of Ahsoka. You remember and remember…

But no matter what you think of, you still can’t quite figure out what happened in the past rotation.

Willing yourself to focus harder, you decide to empty your mind altogether, even of those moments with Rex that you cherished and kept closely-guarded within your heart.

The Coruscanti sun slowly moves past the horizon but you remain seated against the flowing waters, pleading with the Force to give you a sliver of a hint so you can fix whatever wrong you made against Rex.

It’s only when your senses finally still do you see a faint dark red pass through your mind’s eye. You zero in on the memory, pushing yourself past your levels of comfort to seek out the desperate aura once again.

I was thinking of you.

Your voice rings through your mind, not sounding normal to your ears, but you are confident it is your own. Clenching your fists tightly, you seek out the memory until it flashes before your eyes as clear as the searing Twin Suns on a hot Tatooine day.

I can’t lose you Rex.

A faint sensation passes down your arm to your wrist, and you feel Rex’s thumb halt in its movement the more you reveal to him your secret. You can see his hands shaking as you pull him closer to you, the words spilling from your mouth making your heart skip a beat as realization washes over you.

I love you too much to let you go.

The last image flashing before your eyes is the look of utter shock that befalls Rex’s handsome features, and had it not been for the soft manner in which he whispers that one word to you in return, you would think he was completely repulsed by what you just confessed to him.

You open your eyes instantly, wincing yet again when your senses become overloaded with the sounds and scents all around you. Looking around the room, you take a few minutes to come to terms with the reality of what has transpired between yourself and the Captain.

Maker.

You had told him what you promised yourself you would never reveal to him.

In a moment of weakness, your heart decided to reveal its deepest secret instead of continuing to keep it hidden.

Looking outside the large glass windows, you notice how dark it became outside and curse yourself for taking so long to remember. It would be inappropriate to go to him now.

You look down to your hand and trace the skin Rex has touched all those hours ago, smiling to yourself when you recognize that your heart has already made the decision for you.

Not caring for how mad you must look, you race outside of the meditation rooms and run through the hallways of the Temple, ignoring the strange and concerning looks from the others still awake as you make it past the gates of your home and towards the barracks of the 501st Legion. It is raining uncontrollably outside, and you nearly lose your footing a few times as you run across the grounds towards the familiar building near the Jedi Temple. You see a handful of men hanging outside the barracks, and they try to call out to you to see if you need any assistance, but you pay them no mind, heading straight to the quarters of the Captain and ignoring how soaked you’ve become in your journey to him.

When you reach the hallways housing the Clone leaders, you slow down and move past the doors silently, praying to the maker that he was in his quarters and not elsewhere. As you reach the end of the hallway, you come to a stop in front of the large, steel doors housing Rex, and before you can think twice of what you’re doing, you push a few buttons on the pad beside the doors, waiting patiently for them to slide open to you.

There is a faint sound of frustrated sighs from behind the door, and you nearly laugh at the sudden turn of events, but the doors slide open and reveal an extremely tired and irritated Clone Captain, one that had just gotten out of the showers from the looks of it.

“Fives, if I have to tell you one more time- kriff, G-General!” His eyes widen in horror at the sight of you, and he walks out to the hallway to see if there are any signs of danger that led you to him. When he finds it as empty as ever, he turns back around and eyes you suspiciously.

“General, what- what are you doing here?” Rex asks, continuing to avoid your gaze as he moves back to his quarters and tugs you along with him. You realize too late that you probably shouldn’t be found at such an odd hour in your Captain’s private rooms, but you brush the thought aside, knowing that this could not wait for another time. You don’t respond right away though, and Rex studies you slowly before moving to his dresser and taking out a pair of sweatpants and a shirt.

“Here, change into these.” He throws the articles of clothing towards you, but you throw them back on the bed instantly, approaching him slowly to avoid scaring him.

“Captain.” You try to catch his attention, but Rex is adamant on not sparing you a single glance, moving to the other end of the room and grabbing one of his shirts before putting it on quickly.

“I don’t mind General,” he attempts to distract you, and you shake your head at him while following him around the small room.

“Captain, please.”

“You’re going to catch a cold, and I’m not going to hear the end of it from Kix.” Rex ignores whatever you’re saying and rubs his temples furiously, making you wish he would just look at you instead of avoiding you as if you were just another commanding officer.

As if you hadn’t spilled your heart out to him a day ago.

Your frustrations nearly get to you, but you quickly come to understand that the man in front of you would continue ignoring your pleas if you didn’t cut to the chase and tell him what you came here for.

“I remember.”

Rex stops in his pacing, dropping his arms to his side and looking at the gray wall ahead of him. He doesn’t move a muscle, and your heart skips a beat when the hue around him turns into that familiar shade of burgundy once more, the same one that graced your sight when you told him how much you love him.

“I remember, Rex.”

You repeat your words and watch as he slowly turns around and meets your eyes in a heated gaze. He continues to remain silent and you take the chance to step closer to him, hoping that he doesn’t get spooked by your revelation and walk away again.

“You- you remember?” His question is laced with a faltering anxiety that you hate you’ve caused him to feel, and you close the last bit of space between the two of you, smiling at him as you reach for his hand and rub your thumb over his wrist.

“I remember…I remember everything Rex.”

He gulps down at you, watching carefully as you extend his wrist up to your mouth and lay the softest of kisses across the sensitive skin beneath your thumb. His sharp intake of breath sends a shiver down your spine, and before you can say anything else, Rex pushes you back against the nearest wall and attacks your lips in a desperate kiss. You moan into him immediately, throwing your arms around his shoulders just as he leans down and grabs your hips to hoist you up in between his rigid body and the solid wall behind you.

You part your lips in a gasp and Rex takes advantage of your shock, sneaking his tongue into your mouth and devouring you without a care for anything except the lewd noises you are gracing him with. He doesn’t know where he can touch you, but as he feels your nail sink into his neck, he breaks the kiss and moans your name over and over again, giving you but a moment of respite before lunging for your mouth once again. You’re soaking wet, and you want to warn him so he doesn’t get wet as well, but he doesn’t let up once, moving down your jaw and licking the droplets of water sticking to your skin. His tongue feels hot against your already flushed skin, but you can’t find it in yourself to complain, not when you finally had him in your arms, stealing your breath with such needy kisses. You don’t realize you’re crying until he pulls away abruptly and looks at you with concern.

“No, please…don’t stop. I’m just- I’m so happy.” You try to bring him back again but he’s much stronger than you, keeping some bit of distance between your mouth until he can ask you that burning question.

“Are you sure I’m not hurting you, mesh’la?”

“No, gods no. I never thought you’d reciprocate my feelings Rex, and- and when I remembered the way you looked at me, I…I ran over here.” Your smile grows when you notice the soft smirk gracing his handsome features, and you lean your forehead against his own briefly to relish in the moment.

“I love you, cyare…so damn much. I- I thought I lost you back there…couldn’t, couldn’t believe what you did for me. And then you told me why and I nearly lost my mind all over again.” He lays as many kisses as possible across your entire face, making you sniffle each time he reveals to you what was going through his mind.

“I love you too Rex, have been ever since I joined your legion.” The sentiment manages to put a halt to his words and he looks at you for what you deem is too long before leaning down and taking your lips in between his own again. It’s much less frantic than before, but it is just as deeply felt, and you tilt your head to the side to deepen it further, whining against him when he removes the both of you from the wall and walks back to his bed.

He lays you down softly and continues to leave a trail of kisses down your neck, swearing beneath his breath when you reach for his shirt and try to remove it off of him.

“Rex, what- oh kriff, what does that word mean?” You manage to ask in between each kiss and nip he marks your body with, whispering his name over and over again when he chuckles at you and sits up to remove his shirt. You bite into your lower lip as soon as he reveals his broad chest to you, giggling like a little girl as Rex throws his shirt aside and drags his hand up and down your body.

“Why don’t I show you sweetheart?” The Captain descends down upon you possessively, dragging his hands everywhere with an aggressiveness you’ve never seen him display before. He has you whimpering in the span of a few minutes, and with each bit of fabric he rips from your body, you’re left wishing he would put you out of your misery and claim you.

“Please, Rex.” You beg shamelessly, covering your eyes with your arm when you’re left in nothing but your undergarments.

“Shh, I got you cyar’ika…I got you.” The Captain coos at you as he traces lines up and down your body, passing his fingers in between your thighs teasingly and laughing when he notices goosebumps erupt across your skin. You peak from above your wrist, only to find him studying you closely and with a hunger unseen on his features before.

“S-stop looking at me like that.” You turn your head to the side when he drags your arms away from your face and places them above your head, making you wish he wasn’t enjoying making you flustered.

“Like what?” He’s nearly breathless as he asks you the question, not caring for how wanton he looks as he hovers his lips above your sternum before slowly making his way down your stomach.

“Like…like-” You can’t find the words to tell him what he looks like, mostly because you know he’ll only laugh and reiterate whatever you say in agreement and cause you to feel even more embarrassed at being the subject of his scrutiny.

“Like I want to eat you? Like I want to devour every fucking inch of you? Like I want to mark you with my teeth and hands until the whole kriffing galaxy knows who’s making you feel good? Is that how I’m looking at you sweet girl?” He pronounces each question with a harsh bite to your skin, smiling wickedly at you as he descends between your thighs and shoves them wide open to make room for himself.

“Y-yes…I- oh gods please Rex, just- just…”

“I hate to break it to you ner cyare, but I will never,” he growls his need for you against the edge of your panties, biting down and chuckling when you twitch beneath him and reach for his shoulder, “ever,” his voice is much rougher, and you think that perhaps he will kill you through sheer frustration, “ stop looking at you like that.” You whine his name, and as you try to ask him once more to not be so brazen with you, he shoves his nose into your core and breathes in deeply. It’s absolutely filthy, the manner in which he nudges along the damp material hiding you from him while staring directly into your eyes. You shouldn’t be surprised by how far dilated his pupils are, but as you sink your nails into his muscles, you furrow your eyebrows and will yourself to continue staring at him, wanting to ensure that he wants this just as much as you.

“Rex…please, touch me.” You slide one of your hands up to his cheek, cupping his chiseled jaw beneath your palm out of fear of having him move away.

“I am touching you, mesh’la.” Rex raises a curious eyebrow at you, nuzzling into your hand when he feels you settle down and whine in frustration.

“I need more.” You hope he understands what you’re trying to say, but it seems that Rex wants nothing more than to push you over the edge of irritation, huffing out in laughter once as he leans over and kisses your inner thighs.

“Like this?” He asks, licking the spot he’s kissed before moving to the space just below your hip and nipping it lightly. “Or like this?” He inquires with a whisper, taking the edge of your panties in between his teeth and pulling them up until he makes sure you’re still looking at him before letting go and smirking at the snapping sound that forces you to jolt your hips into his face. He must be able to see the annoyance etched on your features because as soon as you try to sit up on your elbows and give him a piece of your mind, he drags both of his hands beneath your thighs and hoists them up until you’re perfectly laid out for him.

“Rex, if you don’t- ahhh fuck,” you throw your head back as soon as you feel the heat of his mouth engulf your wet core. He’s licking you violently through the flimsy fabric of your panties, and when you manage to look down at him through dazed eyes, Rex shoves the material aside and shoves his tongue violently against your clit. You drag your nails across his scalp before you realize how painful it might be, but when you attempt to grab anything else, Rex shakes his head and sucks on your clit before letting go altogether.

“Don’t fucking stop…mark me baby, mark me so the whole GAR knows who fucks you like the filthy jetii’ika I know you are.” Your eyes widen in shock at his words, amazed that the normally respectful and shy Captain is capable of groaning the filthiest words ever as he goes down on you. You return your hands to his blonde hair, a zap of lightning shooting across your muscles when you feel the buzzed cut tickle your heated skin while he continues to fuck you with his tongue.

“Rex…oh fuck, you- you feel so good. Please don’t stop…don’t stop Captain!” You don’t mean for the honorific to fall so easily from your lips, and you look down to see if it made him uncomfortable, only to find him staring hungrily at you as he pulls you harder on his face.

“Is that what you want, cyar’ika? You want me to be your Captain…give you orders and make you cum on my face before I fuck you till you can’t feel your legs?” You know it’s a rhetorical question because he returns his attention to your engorged clit soon after, laying his tongue flat against your bundle nerves as he drools over the fingers resting just below his mouth. You want to watch him as he worships you, commit to memory the desperation filling every muscle of his body as he shows you how much he craves you, but as soon as he eases two of his fingers past your slit and rubs against your walls, you’re shutting your eyes and arching your back at the sudden flash of pleasure that takes over your whole body.

“Cum for me ner jetii’ika,” the tone of his voice, along with the needy order, are all it takes for you to reach your pleasure, and you dig your nails into his scalp in an attempt to bring him closer to you as you roll your hips back and forth against his mouth. You can’t feel anything except his tongue and his fingers, and you manage to look down through heavy-lidded eyes to watch Rex as he makes you cum. Your body shakes violently when you see his Force signature turn into a bright cloud of red, the shade validating to you the Captain’s feelings as he continues to assault your cunt until you grow oversensitive.

You try to push him off of you but he is relentless in his mission to pleasure you, wrapping his arms around your hips and pushing down your body until you understand that he won’t be letting you go anytime soon. You feel empty all of a sudden, but then you notice his wet fingers as they grab you through your chest bindings and you feel another wave of ecstasy slowly creep up on you.

“R-Rex…I-”

“Drench my face, sir.” You’re not sure what it is that coaxes another orgasm out of you, if it is the way he orders you to cum on his mouth again, or the sound of the honorific falling from his lips as he licks and sucks on your clit. You scream his name like a benediction, the sensation he was bringing upon your fatigued body driving you mad with lust. You can faintly hear him moan your name in return, and it’s only when you look down after he’s let up do you realize that you’ve done exactly what he wanted and drenched his face. You should be embarrassed, but as Rex licks at you softly with a lazy smile, you realize that he may have enjoyed this more than you.

“Oh maker, I- I’ve never…” You try to speak but your voice comes out hoarse, making Rex laugh even harder as he sits up and wipes his face with the back of his hand.

“That was the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen sweetheart…I want you to do it again.” He drags his gaze down your body as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks on them, the same ones that were showing you stars not a moment ago. He looks positively sinful, and you giggle embarrassingly at him before you try to reach for the tent on his sweatpants.

“No,” he grips your wrist tightly and falls against you, pushing you down into his bed with his whole body before reaching for both of your hands and laying them above your head. You frown at him, unsure why he was denying you the same pleasure he brought upon you.

“Don’t look so upset, mesh’la.” He winks at you as he kisses down your neck and licks the water droplets sticking to your sternum. You sigh heavily and extend your neck out further to give him more access, the action pleasing him more than you thought it would and making him groan deeply into your breasts. “Believe me when I tell you…if you touch me now, this night will end much earlier than I would like it to.” He sucks bruises across your chest, managing to hold both of your wrists with one hand while the other moves to unbind the wrapping around your breasts. It doesn’t take much to reveal you to his eyes, and when you’re finally freed of the offending article of clothing, Rex growls before ascending upon you, not caring for how rough he’s being as he takes a nipple in between his teeth while he rolls his thumb over the other.

“Ah f-fuck…Rex, you- your tongue is- oh kriff, I need you Captain…please. I want to feel you, want you to fuck me, hard.”

“Yeah sweetheart?” Rex soothes the love bites with his tongue, swirling the rough muscle around your hardened peak until your chest rises and falls rapidly. He’s memorizing every inch of your skin, and you notice his smile grow deeper when he sees evidence of his claim beginning to appear all over your body. You always imagined him to be possessive with things he enjoyed, but you never thought once you’d be at the receiving end of such dedication, such admiration.

“Claim me, my dear Captain.” You plead one last time, tilting your head down to try and kiss the top of his head in an attempt to make him lose control. The gesture does the trick, and Rex ascends up your body and takes your lips in between his own, ripping the breath out of your lungs as he sucks and licks into your mouth until you could no longer focus on anything but the sensations he was ringing from your body. You whine and moan for him as he pushes you harder into his sheets, and when you tries to rest his weight on one of his arms, you throw your own around his neck and pull him as flush to you as possible.

“I want to feel you, all of you.” You whisper the request against his cheek, kissing his jaw lightly in anticipation for what comes next. When you sense his hand moving down your body, you nip across his neck and mirror his actions from earlier, distracting him on his journey just as he did with you not a moment ago.

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re going to be the death of me.” Rex groans against your forehead as he struggles to pull the edge of his sweatpants down his hips. It becomes very clear to him soon that you weren’t going to let up on marking his skin, and he sighs in irritation before deciding to pull his cock out from underneath the band of his pants.

“Please Rex,” you urge him with soft pleas and wet kisses, laying your head back to look into his eyes as he pushes aside your panties and rubs your clit with the hard tip of his cock.

“Are you ready for me, cyare?” Rex asks, furrowing his eyebrows in focus so as to not hurt you. You nod frantically at him, widening your legs even further to allow him to settle more comfortably in between your thighs.

“Fuck me, Captain.” You breathe against his quivering lips, sighing in relief when the crown of his dick catches at your wet entrance.

“Yes, sir!” It’s all the warning you get before Rex thrusts his throbbing cock into your cunt, and you watch with fascination as the aura shadowing over the two of you becomes an even deeper shade of red, one that mixed perfectly with his normally blue hue and created a soothing new wave to your eyes.

Neither of you move, looking into the other’s eyes to ensure that this was actually happening.

Rex struggles to breathe, and you massage his neck with your fingers before shifting your hips to get closer to him. The movement sends his cock gliding against your clenching walls, and you both moan the other’s name as you feel pure ecstasy take over your spirits.

“You- you feel…” Rex tries to speak, but he loses focus of the sentence, instead moving all of his attention into committing this moment to memory.

“Perfect.” You finish his thought, leaning up and kissing his lips once before relaxing back into the mattress and silently urging him to move. When he pulls out of you and pushes back in slowly, you realize that you’ll never get enough of this.

Enough of him.

And from the way he was gazing down at you, it seems that the feeling was mutual.

“Rex, just- I want you to cum. I don’t care about me, I only w-want to feel you cum.” You cross your legs behind his back to bring him deeper inside you, the action forcing a cry from his lips that sounds awfully like your name. You giggle beneath him, pride feeling your chest at being the one to bring him to such pleasure.

“I- I’ll be damned if you don’t cum on my cock at least once tonight, mesh’la.” The promise is accompanied with a dangerous glint in his eyes, and you gulp nervously at him, shutting your eyes to relish in the feeling of being so full. Each thrust brings about a fresh wave of arousal to your core, and you dig your nails into his back to show him just how good he’s making you feel. The delicious drag of his cock across your tight walls nearly makes you question whether this was all real, not because you didn’t expect him to feel so perfect inside you, but because he was so much better than your imagination.

His grunts are music to your ears, and you leave a trail of kisses across face the closer he gets to his peak, wanting him to scream your name when he finally cums and claims you. It’s a battle of needs at this point, with your minds telling you to make this last as long as possible but your joined bodies screaming for a sweet release. You can feel every inch of him, every hard vein slide against your fluttering walls the harder he fucks into you.

There is so much on your mind, so much you want to tell him, but you’re not coherent enough to remotely breathe out a string of affirmations to him, so you instead look back into his eyes and hope he can see right through you, recognize every bit of your heart that has always screamed his name since they day you met.

“I- I won’t last much longer, cyar��ika.” He manages to confess as he thrusts become harder, deeper, more intimate. You shake your head and whisper your lack of care for what he just said, wanting him to finally mark you as his own and fill you with his seed. There’s something inherently faithful about wanting him to fuck his cum inside you, a sensation you’re aware would scream your devotion to each other but is against every rule set in place for someone like you…someone like him as well,

But you can’t find it in yourself to care, not when Rex was finally sinking so sweetly into your pussy over and over again until you couldn’t think of anything else but how utterly divine he felt as he joined your bodies with a string of unparalleled pleasure.

“Ner jetii’ika, I- I’m…oh kriff, where do I-”

“Inside me, please!” You cut him off, swallowing his moans as he shakes above you while bringing one of his hands in between your bodies, the sudden touch of his digits against your oversensitive clit making you arch your back into his chest and part your lips for him. He grunts several times while rubbing your hardened bundle of nerves, swirling his tongue around your own when he feels you clench harshly around him. You shudder beneath him, unable to fathom the sensations he was pulling from you so easily, so exquisitely. Just as you break the kiss to breathe, Rex growls your name in between expletives, shoving his cock into you a few times before finally coming undone. Your pleasure lasts for longer than you thought possible, the feeling of his seed painting your walls and oozing out of you somehow making you feel even more attuned to his pleasure, as if his ecstasy was connected to your own and refused to part from it. He bucks his hips into you with shallow thrusts, resting his forehead against your chest as he slowly comes down from the brief high.

You’re both too dazed to move a single muscle, and when you try to unwrap your legs from around him, Rex hisses in surprise at feeling your pussy flutter around him one last time. He finally sits up to look at you, and you watch as the smirk on his face grows with each bit of skin he sees adorned with his touch.

“So…all of that means ‘mesh’la’?” You break the silence and laugh along with him when he finally catches on to what you’re referring to, only to hiss in discomfort when he pulls out of you and leaves you empty. You watch as Rex reluctantly sits up and shoves your thighs apart to look at the mess he’s made of you. You want to shake your head at him, call him disgusting for being so obvious with what he’s done to you, but when you find him biting his lips and staring at you with newfound lust, you realize that teasing him may not be the best idea now.

“Fuck cyare, you look beautiful.” You giggle as you hide behind your arms once more, making Rex tease you about your shy bedside manner when he was literally fucking you into kingdom come not a moment ago. He gets up and walks to the refresher, quickly coming back to you to clean you up so you don’t have to move much. You can’t help but look at him with adoration as he rubs every inch of your skin. He’s careful and patient with you, taking his time to caress your skin before throwing the towel aside and reaching for one of his shirts to hand you.

“Why give me a shirt when you know you’ll take it off of me in another hour?” You ask him teasingly, laughing hysterically when he throws it aside and shoves his sweatpants down his thighs.

Your eyes shift to his cock instantly, and you marvel at how thick and long he is…and the fact that he was already starting to get hard again.

“To even the field,” he winks at you as he slips beneath the covers and pulls you into his side, wrapping his arm around you before dimming down the lights.

You sit in silence for what feels like hours, drawing patterns on his beautiful, bronze chest while he rubs your shoulder and back to soothe your body. It’s only after a while that Rex finally breaks the quiet air of the room and looks down at you, waiting until you meet his eyes before he finally tells you what he’s wanted to say for so long.

“I would rather die than let anything happen to you, ner cyare. You know that right?” He says, matter-of-factly, and you sense a sliver of anxiety fill his otherwise calm aura for a brief moment before it evaporates into thin air.

“I know darling, and you know by now that the feeling is mutual.” It’s not what he wants to hear, that you are sure of, but you can’t find it in yourself to lie to him, wanting him to know that you care for him just as much as he cares for you.

“I guess both of us are going to be stubborn about this.” He shakes his head and leans over to kiss your forehead before resting back against the pillow once more.

“You bet your sweet ass.” You retort immediately, yelping in shock when he pinches your shoulder and sends you closer into his chest.

“You haven’t even seen my ass, sweetheart.” He snorts at your comeback, glancing down at you for a moment before shutting his eyes and enjoying the feeling of having you so willing and relaxed in his arms.

“Oh, believe me Captain, I have seen your ass…and I fucking love it.”

#CFGE23 #cloneficgiftexchange23 #captain rex x reader #captain rex/reader #captain rex x afab!reader #captain rex x fem@reader #captain rex #the clone wars #star wars #star wars the clone wars #captain rex fanfiction #captain rex smut #captain rex fluff #captain rex angst

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whump-captain · 1 year

Text

No. 8 - Everything hurts and I'm dying

Stomach pain | Head trauma | Back from the dead

2800 words | OC: Kintsugi

*leans into mic* three thousand words of body horror

no clue if this is coherent but the gist of it is fucked up sentient metal possessing people let's goooooo

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CN: escape, gun use, gunshot, (temporary) character death, gore, body horror, general news horror, broken bones, harmful healing, magical healing, vomiting

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"Come on," Lucy panted. "We'll lose them by the quarry."

The cold air made it difficult to take a full breath, even though she wasn't running anymore. Ethan was two steps behind her, stumbling in the ankle-deep snow but managing to keep up. It seemed the painkillers had whipped him into shape. His face was flushed and he stood a bit straighter now that the makeshift splint did the job of stabilising his arm. He didn't look at Lucy, eyes roaming the frigid landscape with a feverish intensity.

"Quarry?" he asked. His voice was rough for the heavy breaths he was struggling to control - but he pressed on. Lucy appreciated that, even though she had no time to think about voicing it.

"There's a gold mine just behind that hill," she explained with a wave of her hand. The tangled thicket of thin trees made the hill look imposingly tall but Lucy knew the way. They could circle it in no more than fifteen minutes and be in the clear. Assuming the quarry itself wasn't staffed and ready to mow them down the second they emerged from the forest. "There should be cars there, we can use them to get to the coast," she said.

"Why is there a gold mine here?"

"I don't fucking know," she snapped. "Shut up and keep walking."

Fuck's sake, she couldn't believe him. Her own mind was entirely occupied trying to deal with the dozens of armed mercenaries hot on her heels and here he was asking question after question about every stupid thing she said. And that after he'd spent almost a month getting the shit kicked out of him for sticking his nose into Memory's business. It was insufferable. He acted like he had some personal stake in figuring out every pointless detail about this island; like he stood a chance to understand anything the Response Group did.

Lucy asked herself again why she was risking her bloody life for this stranger. Once again, her strung up mind refused to answer logically.

All she could do was to keep walking.

They reached the edge of the wood and Lucy weaved in between the thin, slender trees. The snow was thinner here, too, revealing more of the ground uneven with rocks and ridges. Out of the wind, deceptive heat flooded Lucy's skin and she tightened her grip on her gun. She wished she'd had time to grab her rifle instead of this useless pistol; or to grab anything at all. As far as escape plans went, this one had been shite.

"I can't hear them anymore," Ethan whispered. By the shake in his voice Lucy guessed that they were on the same page: that this wasn't necessarily good.

"No." She scanned the spindly shadows around them, then looked up the slope of the hill. "They might be surrounding us."

She wanted to run. But it would do her no good if Ethan couldn't keep up. So she only picked up the pace slightly and glanced behind her. His face glistened with sweat and his teeth were chattering, but he stayed close. Good.

At the foot of the hill, Lucy took a turn through the denser trees. There was no point climbing; they would only tire out and they'd be exposed on the bare hilltop. If she'd remembered correctly, heading east would bring them out onto a small plain and then straight to the quarry. From there - she would figure it out.

The trees cleared out soon and new strength spread through Lucy's body. The bitter wind whipped her again but there was the quarry, in the distance, reaching up to the sky with black arms of machinery. Only a few hundred meters of snow and bare bushes laid between her and the goal.

They barely took five steps into the clearing when she heard it. A whistle and a tap.

Her mind added the gunshot, muffled and distant.

A sniper.

"Get down!" she yelled.

Whistle, tap. Snow burst out in a cloud where the bullet hit. Lucy sprinted, slid to drop by a bush. No protection.

Another whistle, just as she whipped her head up to look.

Ethan only managed half a turn. Another tap.

The bullet caught him square in the chest and threw him six feet back like a ragdoll. Lucy cried out. She started towards him; more snow exploded out under fire. She stumbled, fell back behind cover.

"Hold fire!" someone shouted. The voice echoed through the plain. "Lucy Richardson, stand up with your hands in the air!"

She ignored it. She pushed herself up, halfway on her knees, she felt her way through the snow with gloved hands. The imaginary gunshot rang in her ears and everything in front of her blurred. She only saw colour. Blinding white marred by bright, biting crimson. A dark shape motionless in the snow. A tunnel stretching infinitely before her, black and suffocating and inescapable.

She had failed.

Ethan's empty eyes stared up into the sky. He laid with his arms thrown open and his face frozen in a soft expression of surprise. A tiny hole in his jacket bloomed around it a ring of red. Under him was a pool of blood, thick with viscera and studded with white shards of bone. It soaked into his hair and his clothes - Lucy's old jacket, useless now at keeping him warm.

Her shaking hand rested on his neck, but it was formality. Stillness and cold seeped into her body from Ethan's skin and extinguished the last traces of fire that determination and adrenaline had lit under her.

Replacing it, a void opened up in her stomach. She had screwed up again. She'd cost someone their life. Everything that she had spent so long running away from had caught up. There was blood on her hands again and the snow refused to wash it away. All her effort, her doubt, her illogical, infuriating thoughts - it had all been pointless. The final outcome was the same as if she had never gotten involved at all, if she had never abandoned her safe refuge of apathy.

Ethan Lythmer was dead.

All she had gained was the sight of his lifeless face growing grey and rigid in the cold.

=====

Within the ground, notice is taken.

I sense the change above me; it feels like a snap in the stillness that envelops me. The steady rock flinches and I lose focus.

The dead human weeps its heat out into the soil's veins. The warmth is a thrill but it's a fleeting one. I want to keep it. The human wanted that too, in its last moment of sentience and experience.

It was the most exquisite moment.

I want it to last, like I do.

If time is a plane, I am the slice cut out of it and turned on its side. If the future is a sunset, I am the north pole in summer. If the past exists, I hate it.

I take from it, unhindered and joyful. I drown in that single moment of overwhelming emotion and I let it freeze with me into forever.

I embrace the human and I take it with me.

=====

The snow steamed. Bare black earth emerged from under it and then began to crack. A nauseating stench of boiling blood filled the air and then the rock swelled, as if the whole island took in a breath.

The ground drank. The cracks filled and spidered out in a sprawling pattern of veins. They hissed and then, suddenly, they shone.

Pure liquid gold erupted into the veins in a single pulse, turning the soiled earth into a masterpiece.

With a sound like an unsheathed knife, a spike of gold ripped out from the ground and stabbed through Ethan's chest. The force lifted the body off of the ground where it hung impaled with arms splayed like a pinned butterfly. Lucy jerked away, slipping in the snow. Blood poured down the golden stalagmite and swirled as it was absorbed into nothing more than a reddish sheen. The tip of the spike exploded out of the bullet hole into a thousand hair-thin branches like a bare, fractal tree.

Time itself frosted over and from a frozen moment in the past, Ethan's consciousness was thrust back into his body. The peaceful black split open as light exploded, painting the veins in his eyes bright gold.

He had no lungs to gasp with. There was a gaping hole in his back where they should be, framed by teeth of broken ribs and curtains of pouring blood. He saw it. He felt its warmth as the gold eagerly drank and circulated it.

This massacred body wasn't his. He watched it from the outside, through some other eyes. He couldn't feel anything below his neck. The pressure of suffocation was trapped in his skull and it built until he couldn't bear it and his vision dimmed again - but this time there wasn't peace in the dark.

Please, he thought, more feeling than consciousness. I can't breathe. I'm going to die.

Something replied, inside his mind:

Not die, not die.

The voice echoed into infinity and Ethan thought his eardrums would burst.

We live, we live, it said.

Help me, was all he could think.

The darkness sharpened and struck him like a fist. Gold burst out into his vision in infinitely repeating cracks and they formed an undulating shape. A shape that watched him, reached out to him.

A shape that lived.

A skintight grip enveloped him like ice and for a moment, he was whole again. The world cracked in half and fell away, and he emerged back into the light like a metal cast released from a mould.

The gold below him crawled up. Drawn from the veins that scarred the earth, liquid metal flowed up the spike and then further. It found the crushed mess of Ethan's spine and curled around it, pouring into the cracks and bringing the shattered bone back together. It reached through the past, to the split second between the bullet entering the body and the moment it ripped its way out. From that memory and from the tissue it had devoured, the gold spun a delicate wireframe of a ribcage, glinting like jewellery among the slick gore. Shuddering like rock under a seismic wave, new bone grew into it from nothing and formed bare, exposed ribs. In their confines, red, bulbous flesh boiled out of the collapsed lungs and made them swell back into shape.

They lurched, pushing air out into the rest of the body. Blood bubbled out of Ethan's mouth, he choked on the breath forced into him. A violent cough contracted his chest. It felt like drowning, like burning liquid rising in his throat with every gurgling gasp.

He felt his body again. Torn nerve endings were welded together with flowing gold and immediately they caught fire. Ethan couldn't even scream. Pain exploded through his chest and burned through his back as new skin emerged on torn muscle in gleaming gold patches until the frayed edges of the exit wound met again and melted shut. Flesh merged with metal and became one with the stalagmite that held the body aloft.

Ethan heaved a desperate gasp, fighting the pain burning between his ribs. All he could manage was a keening groan before fire shot through him again and strangled his voice. He could feel the living gold circulating alongside his blood - a cold, crawling presence pushing its way between the layers of tissue. Wherever it found the skin broken, it burst out of the wounds in crystal-like spikes, spraying blood as the damaged flesh tore further. Ethan finally screamed as gold blades stabbed out of the barely healed cuts on his forehead.

New lines of pain erupted all over his body. He was dying, surely; again. He would bleed out. He could see the blood and his own writhing body and he knew this time that it wasn't hallucination. He looked through the eyes of something else; something that was sentient even though it was heatless metal deep underground. It watched, and drank, and thought - to itself but also to Ethan, straight into his mind:

We live, we live. I help, I help.

It felt his pain. The feeling echoed just like its glittering voice did, reflected into two bodies - human and not. The gold blades softened and smoothed. They melted back into the wounds and spilled, leaving behind raised, exquisitely glistening, golden scars. The pain faded slowly into a biting ache like frostbite. Ethan fought for frantic, wheezing breaths but cold pushed through his body again; spread out from his chest and out into his limbs.

Without an immediate memory, the inhuman, metal being could only guess at the human body's correct shape. Ethan's skin turned black as liquid metal replaced the blood in the bruises on his arm. The pain ripped from his throat, a ragged, barely human howl of agony. A metal grip wrapped around the broken bones and ground them together in an attempt to weld them back into one. Ethan's vision dissolved, burned away. His forearm snapped in half at a right angle and golden spikes erupted from the skin as the bone ripped it open. All other feeling was gone. His body had disconnected from everything but this horrifying, all-consuming pain; the heartlessly clear feeling of muscle tearing away from tendons. Gold leaked into marrow and the bones shattered from the inside out, exploded by sudden pressure.

But then the metal spun into itself and the bone shards gathered back into shape. The gold fused them together and filled in the gaps. A delicate net of cracks and seams caught the light once before new veins and nerves stretched out over it like wet wires, reattaching as they crawled. Ethan's scream hitched. He thought he'd faint. He had to faint, he couldn't bear any more. Silently, he begged for unconsciousness to take him, for any escape from the pain. For death, if that was what it took. But the echoing voice in his head kept singing and it kept him awake - and so Ethan kept screaming, his body convulsing around the destructive force that was trying to save him.

Like a ship in a bottle unfolded by a carefully pulled string, the mangled flesh and bone of his arm twisted back into its natural shape. The last of the regenerating muscle bulged out and was wrapped in skin, growing out from it like a stain of paint. A raised patch of gold blistered the surface where the fracture had been open, settling into a shining, metal-smooth scar.

Ethan's breath came in a strangled wheeze. Trickles of blood ran down from his mouth and eyes, marking crimson lines on his ash grey face. His fingers twitched as the new tendons tested their motions but he didn't feel it. The pain still rang through his body, an afterimage of agony. His chest heaved as his lungs demanded air, even though he had no strength to keep breathing. A groan died in his throat, emerging only as a broken, barely audible whimper.

The voice sang, like wind whistling between the mountains:

You live, you live.

It was the last thing Ethan heard before he was finally allowed to faint.

The golden tree that grew out of his chest slowly withered. The veinlike branches curled in and retracted into the spindly trunk until it became a single, smooth spike. It bent down and held Ethan's body upright, with its feet an inch away from the ground, as if posing it to stand. It hung from the metal impaling it, limp and bloodied - but it was whole, every break and bruise healed.

The golden spike thinned and shortened. In a blink of an eye it became little more than a glistening thread. Then it snapped with a quiet clink and disappeared.

Ethan's body dropped into the snow.

There was silence.

It was broken by the sound of retching. Lucy dropped to her knees and vomited, her shaking arms barely holding her up. Everything was hollow. She felt like she had to scream, but the grip on her throat didn't let any voice out. It felt like metal.

It felt like it would come for her next.

Somebody else's gagging coughs broke through the haze. There was shouting. There were footsteps. Someone was yelling her name, screaming at her to raise her arms. She did, sitting back on her heels. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the body in front of her. She could see brilliant gold among the ruined clothes.

Movement erupted around her. Two men pointed rifles at her, shouting, but she couldn't understand them. Another one was talking into a radio; cracks of static rang out like gunshots in Lucy's ears.

"We need medical evac and a full containment team to seven-west slash-" The words blurred together in her ears. Someone told her to stand up, so she did.

There was fog over her eyes, melting everything into the muted white of stained snow. Like afterimages from the blinding sun, shadows of golden veins remained in her vision.

No matter how many times she blinked, they wouldn't fade away.

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vaguely-concerned · 3 years

Text

The Mandalorian Chapter 15 rewatch thoughts

- mayfeld does hear when the droid talks to him the first time, you can see him pretending not to like he hopes he’ll just go away haha. I also guess he’s had a lot of time to think, picking apart pieces of the large fascist machine he used to be a part of and going over everything he clearly regrets

- hahaha fennec and boba are in the back intensely keeping watch the entire time they’re on the prison planet. I suppose a good two thirds of this crew is uuuuh extremely wanted by the new republic lol

- the thing din’s voice does at the end when he says “but you still know your imperial clearances and protocols. don’t you.” is beyond fucking words, it sends a chill right through me

1) din fiddling with that panel; I think he’s phenomenally nervous behind the helmet here, that’s the sort of keeping his hands busy he does when he’s anxious and 2) why the hell does boba have this many chairs instead of like space for cargo haha does he throw bounty hunter parties in here or what

- ngl boba correctly guessing at a glance what sort of ore they’re mining and informing everyone in his sardonic deadpan voice is Big Sexy

I love how he and fennec are standing together when they’re both present in these opening scenes too, first at the very back when they’re keeping a lookout:

and then in the foreground while they discuss the scan

it’s a nice subtle way to get across that they already have a dynamic, they’re somewhat used to working together as a unit at this point. (she’s also looking over at him when she asks what they might be mining in there, like she’s mostly asking his opinion instead of opening it to the floor. they’re talking the mission out between them before din enters the conversation)

- the inside of slave 1 when the ship’s moving makes me a little bit motion sick, I really love seeing it but I hope we don’t stay in here too often haha

- aaaw the small weary sigh din gives upon realizing none of his bros can go with mayfeld. I’m sorry about basically your entire life buddy

the awkward way din adjusts the helmet like he’s trying to get used to the way it feels ;______;

- ah the distinct implication that mayfeld is needling din about this because he’s actually feeling super uncomfortable being back in empire gear and he needs to transfer that discomfort over onto someone else so he won’t have to feel through it... very psychologically understandable and such a fucking piece of shit asshole character trait to give in to haha

- din’s level of side eye is so epic you can see it straight through the helmet fhaskjfhd

- neat detail: din’s head turns slightly toward mayfeld when he calls mandalorians a ‘race’. (it’s sort of cool that we as the audience know why that bothers him, but mayfeld probably didn’t even pick up on it). also shows that mayfeld doesn’t actually quite understand what he’s talking about, even when he makes decent points he’s caught up in his own myopic nihilistic point of view. ‘we’re all the same’ ------> ‘everyone’s secretly as shitty as me deep down’. (which also betrays a lot of self loathing, since we see later he does have the capacity to NOT be that shitty when he chooses to. rick famuyiwa manages to get a LOT of really interesting nuanced stuff into this character in two short episodes, that’s super impressive)

the bright sunny look on mayfeld’s face when din finally gives in and takes the bait tho fsajdkfhasj he’s awful but that’s very funny

- rip all these excellent dudes who really only wanted to accomplish the noble goal of ruining the empire’s entire day and didn’t know they were also trying to blow up My Dad Who Does Not Deserve Any Of This, it’s honestly just really sad that there’s no moment to talk that out

well at least they blew up the entire refinery on their way out, I’m sure that’s the way they would have wanted their memories honored lol

- the comedy beat of din running out of ammo for the first time ever and the music briefly cutting out for it is so so good for me

hahahaha din seems to actually take a moment to be a little aghast at that dude who ends up crushed under the treads of the tank thing, he’s just sort of staring for a few seconds too long and that’s how pirate nr 2 takes him by surprise and shatters his shoulder armour

- I feel a bit bad -- two of the ‘pirates’ try to hold on to each other for balance and then din punches them apart and off the tank :( I mean it’s not like he could just let them murderate him either but like. ouch I’m guessing this one might haunt him for a while for several reasons huh

(the sequence is actually this guy, let’s call him pirate 3, swings the spear at din and misses, instead hitting his buddy who’s trying to get to his feet, then looks horrified and grabs for him to make sure he doesn’t fall off, and then... mando’s forehead happens to them haha)

- poor fennec and cara just running up that hill while everything’s on fire, they must be wondering what the FUCK is going on (at least cara knows that things blowing up is a sure sign din djarin is in the middle there somewhere)

- everything about carano in real life aside for one second -- I do like that we get this contrast in build between our main female characters of the episode and the way their costume designs enhance it

- awwww the little gesture din does with his hand after he removes it from mayfeld’s chest after stopping him from leaving, it’s just so... sweet. it’s a little bit appeal, a little bit reassurance, it just lightens/softens the tone of what he says a bit (he has quite a lot of like... not conciliatory mannerisms exactly, but small touches here and there that are there to communicate that he’s not angry/aggressive or trying to be a dick about it even when he’s emphatic. I keep wondering how much that is just him being him and how much is him being practiced at settling other people’s hot tempers)

- this shot is just... genius

it’s din seen entirely from the outside, with nothing of what we’ve learned to recognize as him for almost two seasons now in view -- not even his face, which we have at least a tenuous fledgling attachment to from before. it’s like we get introduced to him almost as if anew again and again in this episode, just like he’s getting introduced to new aspects of himself and what he’s willing to do and having to struggle to find ways to have that fit with who he is. his discomfort and stress is our discomfort and stress. it’s so interesting

- I can’t stop cackling at this moment even in all the tension -- you only get a sliver of din’s profile but you can feel the sheer MURDER radiating off him sdhfasjk

- aaaaaaaagh the way you get a whole different view of din’s habitual impassiveness when you can actually see his face... the way he keeps appealing to mayfeld ‘just don’t make more trouble, just shut up’, the way he goes completely silent and watchful and frozen..... those are all really obvious trauma responses, and it leads you to wonder how often he touches into that even when he’s in his element, when he’s got the full armour on. hmngh my heart

- ‘the believer’ is such a galaxy brain title for this episode, because it could be referring to either of the three men around this table or all of them at once. (and crucially the only person whose beliefs aren’t in a living, breathing state of adapting to the world around them is the empire officer, with his horrific inhuman ideology. mayfeld thinks he believes in nothing, and proves himself explosively wrong by the end of the episode, and it’s redeeming for him in some capacity. din is facing a more internal dilemma of different parts of his (and his culture’s) beliefs/values clashing and having to decide which one’s more important, to his identity and to how to exist in the world as a person (and love for the baby wins out supremely in the end. of course it does Y_____Y). the empire dude only sees the same sterile fascist world at the end of his shit rainbow that he’s clearly always done, even when faced with proof that it’s untenable. (I mean he wouldn’t give a fuck that it’s immoral because he’s y’know evil, but he’s not even fazed by the fact that the empire provably FAILED, and failed so quickly) his belief is a dead and deadening thing to contrast the others. man when this show goes off with the themes it goes OFF haha)

- love the triumphant heroic mando music kicking in as we’re finally getting to pick off imps, love that for us

- din’s protective instincts at work again, he helps mayfeld to his feet and makes sure he’s safely on board before going further in himself ;_______;

- fennec’s professional approval at mayfeld’s shot hahaha. well I guess he was supposed to be a sharpshooter back in the day huh

I do Not think she likes mayfeld even after all that, though, the withering look she sends him on her way past... should have killed him stone dead on the spot

- seeing din back in the armour is like a physical relief, I can breathe again haha

- tfw you catch yourself thinking ‘at least when all this is over we can go back to the razor crest and everything will be normal again’ and then you rEMEMBER 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

#star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian meta #honestly I could add a lot more of my boba thirst in this lol (idk din is always Dad not Daddy to me but boba's Doing something for me haha)

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astro-rain · 3 years

Text

delicate; b.barnes

chapter seventeen - “wouldn’t dream of it”

delicate masterlist

word count: 4.7k

synopsis: reader has a strange dream that ends up bringing on a cascade of various events and feelings.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

A/N: feel free to drop any opinions/thoughts/predictions below (or in my asks if u wanna be anonymous!!)

She would have woken up from a night's sleep saturated with regret... if she had slept a wink. She spent the night tossing and turning, and at about five in the morning, the pursuit of rest was abandoned.

Forcefully and exasperatedly, she sat straight up, glaring at the clock and letting the blanket pool around her waist. Y/N had her weekly meeting with Shuri at nine o'clock... that meant four hours to kill. More like four more hours of trudging through thoughts, memories, questions, and fears surrounding the previous day. Four more hours of ruminating over Bucky Barnes. This seemed to become a reoccurring activity her life.

She stared at the wall, thinking about how before, there was at least the excuse of being drunk: maybe not completely knowing what she was doing, maybe not remembering something correctly. But they were sober this time... she was sober. And what struck her was that, when it happened, when he kissed her, there was no moment of initial startle. There was no surprise jerk back or woah-what-are-you-doing response. Their bodies just fell into form. She just fell into form. Like it was an instinct. Like they were both used to it, and had done it a number of times before.

She wasn't sure what shocked her more: the fact that he kissed her or the fact that she kissed him back. Was he being bold? Or did she lead him on? Had she been leading him on? He wouldn't have done it on his own account, right? She had a degree of difficulty in believing she was wanted. Truly.

She could've sworn that she wasn't this emotionally invested. She could've sworn that if she couldn't control what she was feeling, she could at least control what she was doing. She rubbed her eyes, wondering where she went so wrong. It probably happened at some point during the isolated time she had been spending with Bucky in a secret corner of the world, not minding the least bit that she had been away from home and work for months whilst working on a project hardly anyone else was even aware of.

Even with all this in mind, she didn't seem to care. She didn't really mind that she hadn't been home in ages, it didn't really bother her that she might be in trouble when she gets back for helping enemy of the state Sharon Carter, runaway fugitive Steve Rogers, or war criminal James Buchanan Barnes. Because every time she thought about the consequences, it just didn't seem to matter more than what was keeping her in Wakanda... Besides, she guessed Bucky would probably be pardoned and after everything settled down, who would pay any attention to her? It's not like she mattered in the grand scheme.

As soon as that very thought arose, she could hear Bucky's voice scolding her in the back of her head. Why was he always there?

Frustrated, she groaned into the air in front of her. Her feelings were so confusing, she wasn't even sure what exactly it was she felt towards Bucky. On one hand, she felt fiercely protective over him: she'd go down fighting before she'd let anyone lay a hand on him, prepared to stay in his corner forever, ready on defense.

But at the same time, she felt this ineffable sense of warmth for him. Like one look at the way his eyes crinkle when he smiled, and she'd turn soft as water. Like being in his vicinity smoothed out the rough around her edges.

And if all this wasn't enough, now she had been touched by him, she had felt his lips and the gentleness in his skin. This brought a cascade of new feelings, ones she knew she had to hide. It... was definitely a problem. She knew, don't get her wrong, she knew it was a problem. As much as she understood this irrefutable fact, the numbness in her lips just wouldn't go away. He had remained with her even hours later. She couldn't get rid of his heartbeat; it was still in her hand. She could still feel him.

Basically, she knew this most recent development was an issue. She knew it was bad, wrong, worrisome, and whatever else. And knowing this, recognizing the very hot water she was in, the only thing she could focus on was trying to ignore the recurrent desire to be near him, to find him and be close to him.

"Fuck."

She plopped back down on her back and elected to cast a burning glare at the ceiling until she had to get ready for her meeting.

—

"I think it might be too hot for this," she complained with a smile on her face.

"It was your idea," he said, a few steps ahead of her, "and we're almost there, so buck up."

She laughed. He smiled at the sound.

"What?" he asked.

"You said buck up. Like Buck... Bucky. Like you."

He just looked at her, amused. Sun kissed and happy.

"It's fitting," she shrugged, grinning.

"Guess so. Hurry up, slow poke. You're gonna fall behind."

"I'm already behind," she huffed . "Your super soldier legs are too fast for me."

"Well," he stopped short and she finally caught up, standing right beside him, "we're here. So worry not."

He looked over at her to find her already looking at him. Funny how their eyes always found each other like that.

"What?" he asked again, not able to help how the corners of his mouth turned up just slightly.

"Nothin.’ Everything," she shrugged. "You."

Perhaps she just liked looking at him. Him and his long hair and light eyes. Was that such a crime? His skin looked caramelized under the sun. She wanted to reach out and touch him.

"You're a real peach, y'know that?" he smirked.

She looked away, pretending to find the grass around them spectacularly interesting while hiding a dopey smile at his compliment.

"Hey, doll face. I'm a lot more fun than the grass, I swear," he teased. "Lemme see my favorite face."

"Hold on." She got an idea.

She reached down beside her and plucked a flower from the soil.

"A little hibiscus," she smiled, tucking the small flower behind his ear. God, he was just so pretty.

She stood back, satisfied with her decor. She sighed, content. How couldn't she be? She was looking at two of the most beautiful things. Flowers and Bucky.

As soon as it was securely in place, Bucky bent down to pick the hibiscus that sat right next to the one Y/N chose. Mirroring her actions, he placed it behind her ear.

"A little hibiscus," he repeated fondly, "for a real peach!"

She didn't dare try to hide the next dopey grin while taking in the sight before her, of Bucky beaming in the sunlight with a flower in his hair. Looking at this, she understood why mankind began to paint. Why there needed to be someway to capture something as precious as this, some method of preserving something so idyllic and beautiful and pure and perfect.

Perfect like the cool, fresh water of the lake. Their lake. Their place. The flowing, breathing water she felt around her waist. They floated around, her and Bucky, as light as air in that lake.

The two were weightless, adoration suspended in animation. The water preserved the feeling of feather light kisses and chests pressed together and hands beginning to roam. If only she could be closer to him. Her fingers in his hair and his palms on either side of her face wasn't enough. She needed more. More, more, more of him.

Skin is so soft and the sun is so warm and soon enough, the water was up to her shoulders as his arms ran up her back. Arms plural, she noticed. He held her with both, protectively enclosing the longing feeling between them.

"Oh, fucking hell!" Y/N sprang up, throwing the blanket off of her.

She must've fallen asleep... and began to dream... She could imagine if her brain was a person, it'd be laughing at her for that.

Why? Why? What was the reason for this? There was no point! How frustrating! How embarrassing that her mind betrayed her with dreams of him.

"God damn it," she swore under her breath.

She wanted to angrily shake her fist in the air like vengeful cartoon character, as she got out of bed and headed towards her wardrobe.

It was 8 a.m. One hour until her meeting with Shuri. She would spend the time changing her outfit until it was distracting enough to draw her attention away from thoughts of that damn lake... and his damn hands...

—

"My friend!" Shuri greeted in her usual upbeat manner. "How are you? How are things?"

There was absolutely no way to answer this honestly.

"I'm doin' well. Same old, same old. How 'bout you?"

"Good as always," she smiled. "Thank you."

Y/N took a seat at one of the tables in Shuri's lab. "So how is T'Challa doing with Nakia?"

"Oh, who knows these days! He is so awkward, I have no idea!"

They both laughed. Y/N was glad she and Shuri were able to talk like this. They weren't just robotic colleagues who only communicated when they needed to. They were partners, and they worked well together.

The meeting commenced like it did every other week. Updates on Bucky's progress, new ideas or adjustments to treatment or planning, going over scans or data, you name it. But this time, she had something else in mind. Something that a dream reminded her of. She had mentioned maybe getting her hands on a prosthetic for Bucky. She wasn’t familiar with the prosthetics industry in Wakanda, but they could probably make something work.

Was that too much? Did she care too much? Was she showing too much regard for him? Was this too much to ask of her?

"Hey, remember a couple weeks ago when I talked about prosthetics?"

"Of course," Shuri smiled. She genuinely enjoyed her partner - her partner who was intelligent, confident, and articulate but still sometimes sounded shy. "You wanna see what I've been working on?"

"You... you ordered one? I didn't-"

"Oh, no. Not ordered. Just you wait," she said, pulling out a drawer to dig amongst papers. "I've been workin' my magic."

Shuri pulled out a manilla folder that had W.W. - Proj. 1 printed on it.

She dropped the folder in front of the psychologist who sat across from her, gesturing for her to look through it. Y/N opened it to see several pages of prosthetics research, information on cybernetics and various designs for a bionic arm.

"Oh... wow." Y/N marveled.

"What do you think?"

"It's incredible," Y/N shook her head. "I didn't- ... I thought you meant you bought one or something. I didn't know you designed one"

"I didn't just design it. I made it."

"You- what?"

"Yep. First model ready for use. Do you want to see it?"

"I'd love to."

Shuri walked her over to a large, rectangular case in the side of the lab.

"Holy shit," she let slip.

The arm was astounding: a glossy black with ridges etched in a shiny gold. It glimmered, sitting in its casing.

Shuri laughed. Thank you."

"Sorry. Excuse my French. This is... remarkable. Can I give it to him?"

"I suppose so. It hasn't got much use just sitting in my lab."

Excitement grew in her chest. Bucky would be able to have an arm he was in control of, one that wasn't forcefully attached to him and used as a weapon. In a way, he would be gaining a sense of autonomy. God, she wanted to see him right away and tell him the news. She was happy to make Bucky happy.

"Oh," Shuri perked her head up. "And there was something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"Yeah, what's up?"

"You're aware of the trigger words, correct?"

"Of course."

"I'm close to fully deconstructing the mind control, but there's no way to know for sure unless we test it out..."

Oh. The excitement dissipated and her stomach dropped. She didn't mean...

"You don't mean..."

"The effect and response of the words needs to be tested on him."

Oh God. There was no way this would be easy.

"And you need to be the one to do it."

Fuck.

"Me?" she tried to hide her shock, her worry, her now overwhelming urge to protect him. "How come?"

"It seems like he trusts you most out of everyone here. I consulted with the Doras about safety and we think that if something were to go wrong, it'd be safest to happen with you. Of course they'll be nearby, but you'd be the one mostly likely to be able to control him in that state."

Her mouth went dry. Control him? She could never. She would never. She knew, in depth, the anguish he carried in his bones as a result of being trapped as a weapon wielded by other people. The thought of her controlling him made her skin crawl.

She knew how much he feared the Winter Soldier and how he would hate losing touch with himself again. He's been free from this kind of violation for a while now; she had very much rather not take that freedom away.

At the same time, she understood how this test was necessary for a full recovery and rehabilitation. And who knows if the words will even work? Maybe she'll say them and nothing will even happen.

He would have to get over this obstacle in order to make it to the other side clean. She could only imagine how scary this would be for him. But she'd be damned if she wasn't going to be right there with him.

"Okay," she said dryly. "When... when are we gonna do this?"

"Not yet but soon. I'll keep you updated."

The rest of the meeting carried on as usual, but Y/N might as well have not even been there. Her mind was off. Off somewhere trying to think of how to tell Bucky the news. The very last thing in the world she wanted to do was hurt him. She'd take his place if she could.

—

As soon as she was free from the calm, professional facade she had going with Shuri, she found herself speed walking back to where Bucky was. She needed to get to him. Now.

When his hut was in sight, she was nervous. She was nervous before, she supposed. She just wanted everything to be okay.

"Buck," she called, a few steps away from the entryway. "I need to talk to you!"

When she stepped inside she froze in place, staring blankly at the two super soldiers in front of her instead of the one she expected. Two as in Bucky and Steve.

"Y/N," Bucky stood up. He sounded surprised.

"Oh-uh," she stuttered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I can come back later."

"That's okay," Steve's voice was gentle. "I'll leave you... to it."

Steve threw Bucky a look she couldn't quite decipher before he left. Bucky just looked panicked.

And soon enough they were alone. They stood directly in front of each other, but with a noticeably awkward amount of space between them. The tiny part of her brain that was still mulling over the dream wanted him closer.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey..."

"You wanted to talk?"

"Yeah," she breathed. "It's uh... there's kind of a lot."

"Look, about yesterday, I-"

Oh. She completely forgot about that. Well, not completely. There was no way she could forget that. But, at the moment there were more pressing matters on her mind.

"It's not about yesterday."

"It's...not?"

"No. I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

"Uh... bad news?"

She took a steady breath in. She wasn't sure exactly how to tell him, she just knew he needed to know. He deserved nothing but the truth.

"So, I was just with Shuri and we discussed the next step in your treatment..."

He said nothing, waiting for the aforementioned "bad news." She continued.

"Apparently, we have to test the trigger words on you..."

His expression dropped and she watched all the color drain from his face.

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't wanna do it, but we have to do it to see if it's really outta your head."

"Yeah, that's the problem," he finally spoke. "What if it's not? Then I hurt someone - or multiple people. There's gotta be some other way to test it."

"You're not going to hurt anyone. Or multiple people."

"How can you say that?"

"It's just gonna be the two of us."

"What?!"

"Shuri thought the safest way of doing this was for me to conduct the test. That way, if things ever got out of hand, which is very unlikely to happen, I'd be the best bet at... handling... that situation. Since you know me the best."

"No way. There's no way. I thought you meant they were gonna strap me down and have some lab tech read them. This is way too unsafe-"

"Strap you down? Bucky, no-"

He still saw himself as an animal that needed to be contained. Muzzled.

"What if I hurt you?" his voice shook just a little.

The fear in his eyes was potent. It made her angry. Angry at Hydra and whoever the fuck else had a hand in this sin against the kind and gentle man who stood before her. The man who was genuinely scared of himself. How dare they make him feel so unsafe within his own mind, within his own body. All she wanted to do was make it better, and suddenly, she could no longer stand for the distance between them. She stepped forward and grasped his hand between both of hers.

"I trust you, Buck," she smiled a small but earnest smile, letting him know that she truly was here for him. "Entirely. I promise. Okay?"

He nodded, still reluctant and entirely scared.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"I do. I trust you, I do," he cast his glance downwards, almost in shame. "It's myself I don't trust."

Her chest twisted with an emotion difficult to place. Mostly, it was the desire to take every ounce of pain away. She wished she could just snap her fingers and make it fade into nothing.

"That's okay," she said.

He looked back up at her, confused.

"You don't have to trust yourself. That's hard enough as it is and Hydra didn't make it any easier. You just trust me, alright? I'm the one reading the words, so, even though I'd hate it, if you were to be... activated... you'd be listening to me not trying to fight me," she squeezed his hand. "And I will not let anything happen to you."

"I'm not worried about me..."

She knew. She was not stupid; she knew that Bucky was separate from the Winter Soldier and that theoretically, the Winter Soldier - and only the Winter Soldier - had the potential to hurt her. She wasn't blind to the dangers, but she also wasn't blind to the fact that there was no exact science to brainwashing. Whos to say nothing could ever seep through the programming? She knew what happened with Bucky when he was forced to fight Steve for the first time. How it changed him.

Even though the Winter Soldier was in there, there was more of Bucky. She knew that for sure. And she needed to make sure he knew one thing: even if the Winter Soldier was trying to claw his way back and entire world was against him, she saw Bucky and trusted Bucky and believed in Bucky. She was a constant. And she wouldn’t give up on him.

"What, you're worried about me?" she joked, lightheartedly. She took the hand she was holding and pressed it against her cheek. "This wouldn't hurt me, James Buchanan."

He sighed, feeling the warmth from her face. He did not deserve this kindness and he definitely did not trust himself despite her trust in him. Of course Bucky would never hurt her. But Bucky wasn't the Winter Soldier. And he didn't have the heart to tell her what the Winter Soldier could or would do. He didn't have the stomach to even think about what would happen if the Winter Soldier actually did something.

But there was something about the way she believed in him, the way her conviction was so strong. It made him almost start to doubt these feelings. He could never be sure of everything being okay, but at least he could be sure of her.

"Okay," he whispered.

"Okay?"

"I'll do it."

"Alright," she smiled.

She removed his hand from her face, but still held onto it.

"And even if you did try to fight me, I think I could go a couple rounds in the ring with the Winter Soldier. I'm big and tough."

They both laughed knowing she had very minimal fight training.

"You'd definitely kick my ass," Bucky chuckled.

She just smiled. And then her eyes grew wide.

"Oh! You wanna know the good news?"

"F'course."

Bucky watched her briefly disappear through the entryway before returning with a big, rectangular case. He raised an eyebrow.

"That's good news? What is it, a bomb?"

"I don't do bombs... arson only."

The look on his face made her wonder if he actually questioned whether or not she was serious. She fought laughter as she opened the case. It was silent for a moment. Y/N looked at him, waiting for a reaction.

"Is that... for me?"

"All yours, Buck. A favor I asked of Shuri."

She told him about the arm. Told him about Shuri's design, and the features and functionality. She didn't mention what made her think to ask Shuri, but that surely wasn't important.

"It's really cool, and like super sleek and badass. But more importantly, it will make you feel more... I don't wanna say regular 'cause nothing about you is regular," a shy smile slipped. "But more... how you're used to having your body feel and function."

"That's..." he shook his head before looking up and making dauntingly deliberate eye contact. "Thank you. For thinkin' of me. I mean it. I hope it wasn't too much trouble for her to make it."

"Nothin's too much trouble, Bucky. You're worth it."

"You're a real peach, y’know that?"

Suddenly she looked abashed. Did he say something wrong?

"Sorry- I didn't-"

"No, it's okay. I just got a weird sense of déjà vu. Don't worry about it."

He looked at her like he didn't quite believe her, but she tried not to think too hard about it.

"So..." Bucky gestured towards the arm. "...what do we do with this?"

"You wanna try it on?"

His brows shot up. "Oh! I mean- sure- I guess so, yeah."

She tried to pick it up and nearly threw her back out. "Jesus!"

"Woah there, tiger," he withheld a laugh, putting a hand under the vibranium arm to hold most of its weight.

"Okay, sit down," she ordered, both of them fumbling to hold onto the arm. "Shuri told me how to get the arm on. There's some... magnetic thing. I don't even know - it was some complex engineering lingo. Not my field."

After a couple minutes, clumsy hands attempting awkward assembly, and several curse words later... the arm was attached. They both stood as Bucky stuck out the bionic arm, admiring it and Y/N leaned back, admiring him. Wow.

Bucky smiled, holding both his forearms out - palms facing up - to see how they moved. "This is incredible."

He turned to her. "You're incredible. Thank you."

"No problem at all," she stepped forward. "How does it feel?"

Her hands found their way below his, cupping the underneath of them with a feather light touch. "How do you feel?"

"More... balanced," he laughed. "Coordinated?"

"Steady?"

"Absolutely."

"Stronger?"

"Definitely."

She looked up at him. "Confident? More comfortable in your own skin? That's what's most important."

He gripped her hands. "For sure. Thanks to you."

"Glad I could help. Just wanna make you feel more like yourself, you know?"

"I feel the most like myself when I'm with you," he nearly whispered.

He smiled, and then did something... unexpected. He let go of one of her hands and with the other, he twirled her around as if they were dancing. She went along with the movement, body falling in sync it even though she was confused.

"You make me wanna dance again."

With his voice so endearing, and his heart so spirited, the world around them fell quiet. She stepped forward and rested her hand on his shoulder. Then she placed one of his hands on her waist, and held the other out to the side, fingers intertwined with hers. And oh, the feeling of his hands on her; it was nearly overwhelming.

"Then dance."

And they swayed. They swayed to nothing, to the sweet sound of finding comfort in another person. She let her eyes flutter shut, allowed her guard to come down for just a moment. Just this moment. With him.

Bucky broke the silence with a shy question. "So yesterday... what does that mean for-"

"Let's just keep it between us."

"What do you mean?"

"It was a moment - like this one. I think I think too much, and I may have overreacted before. It doesn't have to be some cumbersome ordeal. It's just us."

"We're good then?"

"We're good."

"Good. 'Cause I like this."

She inhaled and smiled at the feeling of him inside her lungs. They continued swaying as they continued talking.

"You were in my dream you know?"

"Was I?"

"You were."

"Could I fly?"

"No," she laughed. "You were - well we, actually, were walking to that lake."

"To swim?"

Not exactly...

"I don't know. It's kinda foggy and didn't make much sense since it was a dream but we were definitely there."

"Did I say anything existentially insightful?" he joked.

"I don't remember much of what we said, but I remember how it felt."

"How... how did it feel?"

There she went again. She could feel herself slipping, but found it hard to care. She closed her eyes, thinking back to hibiscuses and Bucky's arms.

"The water and sun on my skin felt kind of like this," her hands ran up his sides dangerously slow and settled behind his neck, finger tips tangling into the ends of his hair.

His breath faltered. "Is that so?"

Unconsciously, his other hand found her waist and somehow the little space between them grew even smaller.

"Mhm," she hummed. "and the sight of a flower in your hair felt kind of like this."

Her hands moved to cup his face, the soft skin of her palm settling on his jawline.

"It was so pretty," she sighed.

"Yeah... pretty," he agreed. But he wasn't talking about the dream or the flower.

"And... your arms and your hands... felt kind of like this."

Gently, she pulled his face down to hers, though he needed no guidance or encouragement. When their lips met, that feelings of incompletion and longing, which had been prickling the back of her mind since the previous day, finally went away. They dissolved into fingers pressing into her hips, soft stubble tickling her cheek, and the delightfully encompassing presence of him.

She wasn't sure how long it was until they separated and words were spoken again. All she really recognized what that she was out of breath.

"And to think I was going to apologize for yesterday," Bucky smirked.

"I had to return the favor."

"And I gotta make up for lost time"

"Well, please don't let me stop you."

And he didn't. They continued right where they left off, except this time, it felt much too similar to something she had felt before. Hands began to roam just like they did in her dream.

The only thing was, her dream was cut short. She had no idea how it ended. But his hands were everywhere and it was all her senses could register. He was everywhere: her lips, her neck, her collar bones. She was burning.

The air ran out of her chest, and her voice was barely a breathy sigh. "Don't stop."

She could feel his smile on her skin. "Wouldn't dream of it."

The next morning, she awoke entwined in his arms - both of them.

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance @ilovespideyyy @xpurpleglitter @bluelakeee @darkacademic2 @nickkie1129 @eclipsedplanet @paradisedixon @crazy-beautiful @coffee--writes @lilithknight1111 @buckybarnesishot310 @softladyhours @alwayssandy @those-sea-green-eyes @hero-ically @devilswaldorf @cc13723things @small-death-and-codeine @avengersgirllorianna @cataves @thatbitchsposts @talktomeaboutthestars @surrealpsycho @headheartbellarke @bubbly-moonwarrior @bluemoon-icecream @buckeyecreates @augustbucky @itsthemaree

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Barging In

Juice Ortiz x Reader

Request by @irenne-stans: this is just a short request but maybe a Juice Ortiz x reader The reader is Jax’s friend and walks into juices dorm room looking for Jax and is stunned to see Juice shirtless and she just backs away and yells at Jax for not mentioning how ripped Juice is (you can add to it to make it longer maybe they get together at the end idk ) ✨

Warnings: language

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: In this house we love and respect Juan Carlos Ortiz! 🥺🥰❤ We love a flirty and nervous Juice. I got a little carried away with this one but I had a lot of fun writing it. Juice is hands-down my favorite character from SoA. Hope you enjoy! 😁

You had gotten a message from Jax, asking him to meet you at the clubhouse. Nothing urgent, but he just had something that he wanted to run by you. You strolled into the clubhouse, looking around for him but he was nowhere to be found. You sighed as you made your way over to the bar to ask where you could find him. If he had dipped even though he was the one who told you to show up, he was never going to hear the end of it from you.

“Hey, you know where Jax is?” you leaned onto the bar as you spoke to the prospect.

“I think he’s uh, back in his dorm,” he nodded to the hallway that led to the back of the clubhouse, “Last place I saw him, anyway.”

You smiled at him and nodded, “Thank you.”

You crossed the room and made your way into the hallway that led to all of the dorm rooms. You looked at each door carefully, trying your hardest to remember which room belonged to which man. It was hard to keep track of, especially since you never really had a reason to be back here to begin with. You sighed, hoping that you were guessing correctly.

You knocked lightly on the door. When you didn’t hear an answer, you assumed the room was empty so you slowly opened the door and peaked inside to see if it was even Jax’s room at all.

Your jaw nearly dropped to the floor when Juice walked out of the bathroom, drying his face off. It was in that moment that you realized you had never really taken the time to truly look at him. The two of you saw each other at parties, and in passing if you stopped in to talk to Jax about anything, but you had never really had any one-on-one time with each other. Part of you was deeply regretting that at this point. You had never realized how he was in such incredible shape. He wasn’t even flexing but you could still see the definition in the muscles on his arms and through his shoulders. You were practically salivating over the way that his tattoos popped against his chest.

“Uh,” he held the towel up against his chest, “hey, Y/N. Can I…can I help you with something?”

You cleared your throat, shaking your head, “No, no. Fuck, sorry. I just, um, I was looking for Jax?”

He smiled, shifting his weight and you saw how his muscles flexed as he did, “Next door down.”

You nodded, “Got it. Thank you. I’m, um, you know, I’m sorry for barging in on you like this.”

He chuckled, trying to bite back a grin when he could see the embarrassment on your face. He could see the way you were trying not to stare and shrugged nonchalantly, “Least I had my jeans on.”

You didn’t want him to see your face get any darker than it was, so you turned and scampered out of the room without another word. You blew through the next door, not bothering to knock. You shut it behind you, trying to get all of your thoughts in order. Between seeing him with no shirt on, and then him putting the image in your head of him being completely naked, you felt like you needed someone to dump a bucket of cold water on you.

“You good?” Jax was smirking at you, seeing the flustered look on your face.

“I went into Juice’s dorm on accident because I thought it was yours,” you shook your head, “and I walked in on him half-naked.”

Jax laughed, sitting up on his bed, “Which half?”

You rolled your eyes, “Shut up. Also, why didn’t you ever mention to me that Juice is fucking ripped?”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “Never came up in conversation, I guess. I’ll try to keep you better informed on the physique of all the men in my club from here on out.”

You laughed, “Thank you, it’s very much appreciated. I expect a full report on everyone by the end of the week,” you sat down on the bed next to him, “Anyway, what’s up? What’d you need my opinion on besides Juice’s muscle mass?”

Jax shook his head, still processing everything that you had just said to him, “I…I don’t even remember now. You threw me off with this shit with Juice,” he chuckled.

You couldn’t help but to laugh, “Ah, he’s distracting for you too, then?”

He shoved you, laughing as you almost toppled off the bed, “Not nearly as distracting as it is for you. I knew how ripped he is.”

You rolled your eyes, “And you held out on me. The nerve.”

The next night there was a party at the clubhouse and Jax had told you to stop in if you had the time. It wasn’t like there was a whole lot else to do in Charming, so it was basically a guarantee that you were going to show up.

You walked into the clubhouse and it took your mind and body a moment to adjust. You were hit with a wave of heat, music, and smoke. You made your way through the crowd so you could get a drink from the bar. The prospect was behind it, as usual. He gave you a sweet smile as he handed you a beer.

You turned around, looking around the clubhouse as you sipped on your beer. You smiled as Jax walked up to you, wrapping you in a hug, “Glad to see you could make it, darlin’.”

You laughed, “You say that like I’ve got better places to be.”

“Oh,” he chuckled, “We’re just a last resort?”

You gave him a playful nudge, “I never said that.”

He smirked, “Mmhmm, sure.”

The two of you stood and talked with each other for a few minutes, content to just watch the party unfold in front of you. After a while the two of you made your way over to the pool table. There was a game in progress and you had decided to go over just to heckle, chuckling to yourself as you sipped on another drink. Jax called dibs on the next game, locking the two of you in once the table was free.

You didn’t notice that Juice had appeared next to you, and the sound of his voice made you tense up for a moment—you hadn’t spoken to him since you accidentally barged in on him. You had made sure to leave the clubhouse the previous day and not run into him, still feeling to embarrassed at how you had gawked at him.

“Hey, Y/N,” there was a smirk on his face that let you know that he was thinking about what had happened hardly twenty-four hours earlier.

You smiled, hating that you could already feel your cheeks turning red, “Hey, Juice.”

“You alright?” he was trying his hardest not to laugh.

You sighed but couldn’t help but to let out a chuckle, “Just fucking say it.”

“What?” he laughed.

“Whatever it is that you’re thinking!” you could only imagine how red your cheeks were.

“I would’ve come over earlier but I didn’t want you to be undressing me with your eyes,” he wiggled his eyebrows as he gently nudged your shoulder with his own.

You groaned, running your free hand over your face, “I’m so sorry about that. I know I probably seemed like such a perv.”

He smiled, shaking his head, “If you hadn’t been so embarrassed, I would have thought so,” he paused for a moment to let out a laugh, “You should get a handle on the staring thing though.”

“I was just caught off-guard,” all you could do was shake your head, “I was…pleasantly surprised.”

“Glad the surprise was at least pleasant,” he couldn’t stop smiling at you. He didn’t know if he should mention to you that through the grossly thin walls between the dorms, he had heard you talking to Jax. He opted to save that for later, if the time was right.

Once you had addressed the awkwardness of the situation, you were able to sort of move past it. It helped that he wasn’t going to make things weird. It seemed to be the kind of ice-breaker that the two of you needed, because that night was the most that you had ever really talked with Juice. The two of you had made small talk here and there but you found yourself roped into a real conversation with him for the first time and you were loving every second of it. You couldn’t remember the last time that someone made you laugh that hard. The two of you had drifted off into your own little world in the middle of the clubhouse—you didn’t even notice that you and Jax were supposed to be up for your game. He hadn’t tried that hard to get your attention once he saw you and Juice talking, and the way that you were looking at him.

“I’m gonna grab another beer,” Juice looked over at you, “Want another?”

You nodded, “Yea. I’ll come with you.”

He gestured for you to walk in front of him, “Lead the way.”

You smiled as you stepped in front of him and made your way towards the bar. You glanced back over your shoulder for a moment and saw that he was scanning you up and down. You laughed, shaking your head, “Better not be undressing me with your eyes, Juice.”

He laughed, trying to play it off but you could see the color rising in his cheeks, “At least I gave you something to work with.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing as you took a seat at the bar, “Yea, you’re so generous,” you paused and ran your hand down his bicep, fingers trailing lightly over the exposed skin of his forearm, “Play your cards right and I might give you something to work with too.”

His eyes grew wide for a moment. You smirked as you grabbed a fresh beer bottle for yourself, popping the top on the edge of the bar. You took a long drink from it, not breaking eye contact with him.

“You’re doing it, aren’t you?” he smiled as he got his own beer.

“Doing what?”

“You’re totally picturing yesterday,” he laughed as he leaned on the bar next to you, “and thinking to yourself that you’re still pissed at Jax.”

“Pissed at Jax?” you couldn’t hide the confusion on your face.

“Yea. For not telling you…how’d you put it? That I’m fucking ripped?”

You almost choked on your beer as you tried to fight the laughter that wanted to come out of you, “Those walls are way too fucking thin.”

He couldn’t have stopped smiling even if he wanted to, “Any time you want to be on my side of the thin walls, let me know.”

You bit your bottom lip for a moment, wanting to choose your response carefully, “How about I give you my number and if things go well then maybe I’ll go into your dorm with an actual invite next time?”

He excitedly pulled his phone out of his pocket, handing it over to you so you could put your number in, “I like the sound of that.”

#juice ortiz #juice ortiz x reader #juice ortiz x you #sons of anarchy #soa #juan carlos #juan carlos ortiz #jax teller #juice ortiz imagine #soa imagine #sons of anarchy imagine #juice ortiz fanfiction #drabblesmc

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jaeminzie · 3 years

Text

ignorance is bliss | h.rj

↳ huang renjun x gender neutral!reader

synopsis: staying true to the courageous gryffindor persona, you secretly admire renjun using unusual tactics, forgetting that the fellow ravenclaw is fairly quick witted.

genre: fluff

word count: 2,339

part of ‘the dreamies in hogwarts’ series

huang renjun, the ravenclaw wallflower who you’ve been stalking according to your best friends. indeed, it is odd to stay in the library until ungodly hours solely for the breathtaking view from a few tables in front of the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. though every view and every angle of huang renjun is breathtaking, it doesn’t take much work when you look like that. being as stubborn as ever, you would never admit to stalking the poor boy. you believed that that was an exaggeration, that your friends don’t understand how it feels to be so blinded by him and you are utterly confused on how they aren’t blinded by him. instead, you claim it as a way to get an understanding of the boy’s, who you do plan to interact with sometime in the future, mannerism — which you mentally admit sounds just as creepy as stalking, not helping your case at all.

so there you are, sitting alone in a table a bit further than usual from renjun using a book to cover your lower face to avoid any suspicion. not only are you stubborn, you are also unbelievably oblivious. so oblivious, in fact, that you aren’t aware that the boy who you’ve been “observing” has already noticed you staring at him the second week of your trips to the library. in your defense, you visit the library no more than four times a week as you loathed the smell of rotting book paper and dusty wooden furniture. unknowing of the boy’s acknowledgment of you, you continued to admire from a far. loving the way his plump lips pouted naturally while reading, his circular silver glasses sat perfectly on the bridge of his god-shaped nose, how careful his eyes scanned through the pages and the way his fingers absentmindedly tapped on the table as a way to keep himself sane from the amount of studying he chooses to do willingly which appalled you. but once in a while, he’d give himself a break by sketching on his notebook causing all the lines on his forehead and the pout on his lips to disappear. this is your favorite part. seeing him find his peace in drawing made you feel the same sense of warmth and tranquility that you suppose he feels when creating art, completely unaware of a gryffindor staring him down — or so you thought. ignorance really is bliss, or else, you wouldn’t be so shameless right now.

renjun means to speak to you one day as his confusion progresses each time he sees you walk through the ginormous library doors and choose a spot where you both have clear views of one another. when you look away, pretending to read the book in your hands, renjun looks your way with furrowed eyebrows trying to figure out what exactly do you want from him. why you still manage to fail your classes despite spending many hours “studying.” yes, you can say that he observes you as well since your houses share a couple classes with each other. from his observations, he’s learned that you’re quite the helper. renjun wonders how you weren’t sorted in hufflepuff. perhaps, a hufflepuff isn’t bold enough to stare at a stranger in a nearly empty library for many consecutive weeks. though, a gryffindor should have the courage to at least speak a single word to that person, a simple ‘hello’ would be a nice place to start.

it took him some time to admit it, but he found pleasure in staring at you as well. his slytherin friends practically had to force it out of him once they kept noticing that his gaze was almost always set on you since his group sat in the back of your classes, it was easy to admire without being caught unlike your questionable tactics. renjun admires how you keep trying and trying to answer a question correctly even when your raised hand is being blatantly ignored by the professor after getting a handful of questions incorrect. and don’t even get him started when he catches a glimpse of you laughing with your peers, then he can’t keep his eyes of off you. there’s been countless nights of him unintentionally going on about you and your character to his peers relaxing in their ravenclaw common room. at this point, the whole house of ravenclaw has heard your name come out of his mouth at least once.

from your clear view, you notice how focused renjun is with his hands seeming to move themselves while his mind continued to run on you. renjun straightened his back after finishing the last few strokes on his sketch. a sketch of you sitting on top of a table identical to the one you seated at right now with your legs swinging and your red robe nearly hitting the floor, eyes crinkled as your smile that he loves to look at reached up to your ears. his first drawing of you, he was proud of it and was sure it wouldn’t be the last drawing of you he’ll make.

you were taken back when you had noticed renjun was already gathering his belongings. he usually goes back to reading after finishing a drawing, you recalled back to the mental schedule you created in your mind. wow you really are a creep. you thought. too caught up with being offended by your inner self insulting your actions, you were completely unaware of the boy dressed in blue standing next to you.

renjun gaped as he thought you were ignoring him. having enough, he finally spoke, “can i help you?”

freezing in your seat when you heard his smooth voice laced with confusion, refusing to face the boy since you are definitely not prepared for this moment. fixing your posture and clearing your throat, you mustered your left over confidence as you chose to not further embarrass yourself in front huang renjun.

completely changing your body language to a more laid back manner and facing the boy, trying not to evidently show your breath being taken away from seeing him up close. his left eyebrow raised with his lips pursed slightly, fingers fiddling with the books by his side. he looked even better close in front of you, you had previously thought that was impossible. but you were so wrong, making you slightly mad at how perfect he seemed to be.

“nope” popping your ‘p.’ “do you?”

renjun’s facial expressions relaxed slightly. “no, i don’t.”

“why’d you come here then?” you mentally cursed and slapped and pinched and kicked yourself for accidentally not sounding the friendliest, your nervousness acting for you. “you sure you don’t need my help?”

renjun was taken back from your tone, oblivious to your feelings. there’s the gryffindor. they always have to be boasting. renjun huffed at his thoughts. he had not expected your first talk to be like this. your tone lightly hit his pride, so he automatically had to retaliate, “you’re the one to talk. you have an explanation for not being able to keep your eyes off me?” renjun laughed mockingly but not at you, at himself for being such a hypocrite.

defeated, you couldn’t keep up your relaxed attitude, “i. . . i just. . .” the eye contact you both shared was so intense you couldn’t even think straight, and neither could he. “s-sorry for bothering you. i’ll. . . leave you alone.”

before you could stand up from the chair, renjun pulled out the one beside you and sat facing your body. he sighed, “i’m sorry too. that didn’t come out as intended. but i need to know if i’m being too hopeful or not?”

hopeful? you remind yourself to pinch yourself later in case this a dream or some sort of spell. you hoped that your friends didn’t do anything without telling you since they’ve been suggesting that you use a love potion to “make everything easier,” but you profusely refused their incredibly stupid proposition each time they had brought it up to discuss.

“do you need tutoring, is that why?” he continued. his arms sat on his knees.

each and every one of his words entered one ear and went out the other as you wondered on what he was feeling hopeful for. “hopeful?”

his lifted his elbows off his knees and placed them on the table slowly, looking as if he was thinking. “i just thought that maybe you had reasons other than academic ones for coming here when i do.” he spoke very, very slowly that it was torturing. “am i right?”

you hated every second of this for the awful awkward tension, but this is the moment that you’ve been daydreaming of for weeks. though, you were shocked at how renjun noticed you despite trying to be as sneaky as possible — but your friends and renjun would say otherwise. “if i say yes. . .” your eyes wondered around his figure seated in front of you.

“i would be correct then.” he finished the sentence for you, not baring to wait longer. he moved his head towards your gaze on the floor behind him to try and get your eyes to focus on him.

and when you did, you saw the sparkle and hint of joy in his eyes making you feel truly confident. “then yes.”

—

it’s been nearly a month since your first interaction with one another, and renjun never misses a day of making fun of your past actions that you now admit were creepy. though after his friend, lee donghyuck, informed you in his own sneaky actions that you weren’t able to notice before, you have not let him live peacefully. renjun’s friend group was ecstatic when he told them about finally speaking to you and being with you. but renjun’s fully aware that they were more excited over the fact he can finally stop moping over not knowing how to approach you, achieving their peace since he can finally stop talking. though, he has a new topic to gush over — your relationship.

being together side by side and actually conversing with one another allowed renjun to see you in a deeper level, giving him more reasons to appreciate the special being that you are. he loved every second he spent with you. hearing you laugh at something that he had said or done makes renjun feel like he had reached the top of the highest mountain. holding your delicate hands while walking through the hallways made him feel like the most successful man on earth, and he proudly bragged over it. renjun loved how he felt so at ease and encouraged whenever he felt your presence around him. you don’t even need to be right by him to make him feel reassured. your presence alone was enough.

and you especially loved how he still chooses to love all those things despite your questionable actions in the past.

you loved being with him so much that you tolerate being in the library and actually reading beside him, or at least try to read. though, he has to hold your hand in order for you to fully commit yourself into studying with him. but both of you don’t complain.

you sat in a vacant table in the library, but this time, you sat next to the boy who you used to admire from a far. bouncing your leg out of boredom, “can we take a break?” you whispered in his ear.

renjun let out a small breathy laugh. “we just got here.” he whispered back, his gaze not leaving the thick book in front of you both.

your mouth slightly hanged open and you tightened your grip on his hand, “lies.” renjun squeezed your hand back playfully, still not looking at you. “please, jun, we’ve been here for an hour and you need to give yourself a break.”

silence.

you let go of his hand and puffed when he still didn’t spare a glance at you. defeated once again, you slid his notebook toward you and flipped through the pages, trying to entertain yourself by reading his notes. how fun.

widening your eyes in awe when you came across a page that showed a sketch of a person who looked exactly like you, with small hearts and tiny sparkles surrounding the figure sat on a table. your fingers lightly brushed the page, admiring how talented your boyfriend is.

“i drew that the day i came up to you.”

still strucked, you faced him and you were finally met with his beautiful eyes. “i think you need to update it. i look a bit different now.” you suggested with a smile that he cannot let down.

he hummed, “yeah, a tad bit huh?” you nodded eagerly which he laughed at. “i suppose i should work on it right now.” he reached for his notebook and flipped to an empty page, fixing his position so he can get a proper view of your face.

renjun did not hesitate to start drawing. he knew every detail of yours by heart, he honestly could draw a portrait of you relying solely on his memory. renjun has got every line, dot, and scar on your divine profile engraved in his mind since he thinks about you every second, literally. though, he still chooses to look up from his notebook to get a view of your face. not because he had forgotten a detail, but because he can’t refuse an opportunity to admire that face of yours. returning back to sketching with the most genuine smile you’ve ever seen on a person, with his pupils dilated. you definitely didn’t mind going to the library more often if you get to see renjun like this each time. you speak for both of you as renjun seems to be enjoying this moment just as much as you are. renjun’s hand that isn’t occupied reached for yours, with a grip that made it seemed like he’d never let go.

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theyscreamjade · 3 years

Note

hii!! i want to send in a request of the bakusquad + todoroki experiencing a miscarriage with their S/O? i just finished the movie “Up” and i was so sad in the beginning and i began wondering what the characters would be like if they were in the father’s place, and also i absolutely love the way you write angst !

Miscarriages

Disclaimer: Miscarriages, Blood, Drastic Events.

———————————————————————————————————————

* The pregnancy itself was a shocker to many and he’s blessed he put a ring on your finger before knocking you up.

* Momma was about to beat his ass.

* He’s with you every step of the way, rubbing your back while you passed your guts out.

* The first month was hell because you barely ate because of how sick you were. It honestly scared him to see you in such a bad shape, and he had to force you to simply eat a cracker or ice so you won’t be dehydrated. You didn’t have cravings or anything.

* The second month seemed worse though, the nauseous moments were gone but the current issue was cramps. Intense cramps so bad, you’d wake up late at night with it. The heating pads, medication or anything would work.

* Everyone assumed it was simply the baby making room for it or something which you also believed.

* Until you saw blood in your panties one night, the moment you walked out. You looked as if you seen a ghost while trying to wake him up.

* A quick trip to the hospital and the doctor breaks it to you that you had a miscarriage. Bakugo isn’t the type to express his emotions in front of people, but the moment the doctor walks out.

* He’s breaking down. He’s usually the one to be strong for you, but...he couldn’t then. Everything slapped him at once while thousands of questions piled on him.

* Tears roll down his his cheeks as he falls to his knees, anger flows through his veins while sadness drowns his thoughts. What could he have done to prevent this?

* This honestly pains my heart to write this.

* Denki was over the roof when you told him you were pregnant, he was excited! Beyond that. Words couldn’t describe how happy he was.

* He was ecstatic to be a father and to be best father he can be.

* He was with you through every step, all the way to the fourth month.

* You and him stood in the doctors office, awaiting for the gender of your expecting child.

* You prayed for a boy while he wanted to have a electric princess waddling around to do things with.

* When the scanning began though, the doctor’s face became concerned. Her eyes frowned before she looked over at the monitor.

* You didn’t hear the usually swishing noise, the noise you craved to hear as she soon placed you on a stretcher. You were immediately escorted to a hospital which was next door.

* Another doctor did the exact same thing, he even placed a tiny belt around your forming stomach. The minutes that went through while he grazed your stomach with the technology that once blessed you.

* “We...We can’t seem to find a pulse.” He said softly, looking towards your two.

* “W-What?” Denki would say softly, staring at him shocked. “Y-What do you mean you can’t find a pulse?” He’d ask, making sure he heard the man correctly while trying to keep himself together. The moment you burst into tears, sobbing with you.

* It’s honestly painful to see the once bubbly, sweet guy with a heartbreaking saddened look on his face but his hand stayed locked in yours, the whole time.

* Your pregnancy was actually terminated so early, you didn’t have a chance to breathe in the fact that you were pregnant.

* You held the positive pregnancy test in your hands and the moment you told Kirishima after work. You waved it as if it was a lottery ticket

* His eyes nearly popped from his head, his sharky smile was on full display as he hugged you so tightly. He spun your around with happiness in his heart. He couldn’t believe he was fortunate enough to be blessed with a child.

* Unlike others, you didn’t really have the normal issues. You seemed to crave a lot of meat though, more wanting hamburgers and things.

* The first month was a absolute breeze and you didn’t have a ounce of morning sickness, morning problems, or anything. No cramps or nothing

* It was a normal doctors appointment, A simple check-up.

* Kiri wasn’t available at the time because the hero’s had a meeting, but...he’d cancel anything for you.

* The moment his phone rings your ringtone, the only thing you can choke out from your voice is “W-We lost it.”. His eyes were wide and he stood to his feet without a second thought, dashing out of the headquarters.

* He doesn’t care if he’s miles away, in the middle of something. He’s either speeding or running to the doctor’s office.

* He’ll burst into the room and see you holding the now negative test along with a few other things. Papers containing what to do afterwards and how to mend your pain though it wouldn’t fix your broken heart.

* He’ll pull you in for a tight hug, sobbing with you as he lets the emotions flow out of you and him. He’d hold you so tightly, sobbing into your shoulder while you cried into his chest inside the quiet doctor’s office.

* The moment you told Mina you wanted to have a kid with her, She was jumping for joy.

* She loves kids and couldn’t deny it.

* You offered yourself since she was a pro-hero and you wanted your future child to see how great their mother is.

* It took a while to pick a donor, decide on one, do the procedure and wait. That took the longest of all, You had to wait until your eggs were fertile and ready for everything.

* Sis knew before you knew that you were pregnant. When started smelling how sweaty she was or how she was around Bakugo or Kirishima, it was a dead giveaway.

* When you took the test, Boom. Positive.

* She went to Twitter, Instagram, Facebook and more posting about the growing family with excitement in her heart.

* Almost a month into it, She began making big plans. She was looking at houses so you two could leave the apartment you two shared. Pre-ordering cribs, baby chairs, baby changing tables. She had a Pinterest labeled ‘Future Baby Room.’

* Almost into month two, You began having cravings. She was devoted to the mother role, whatever you ate, she ate. Pickles and ice cream, Popcorn with caramel and siracha, hamburgers and strawberries. She was down for it all.

* Nothing was expected though, It just swung at you like a pile of bricks.

* You were cleaning up the kitchen when a rush of pain stung you so hard, you let of a cry that scared Mina. She rushed to your side and held you as you felt something wet between your legs.

* She placed you into the car without checking and sped to the hospital. Once admitted, Dozens on dozens of tests were done of you. So many that almost worried her. She tried to keep you happy but even she began to worry.

* When the doctor walked in, she had an expression she’d never forget. “I’m sorry, It seems as if you had a miscarriage.” Your heart shattered, refusing to look at your wife while guilt rushed through you.

* You couldn’t give her the one thing she deserved. The moment her hand touched yours, You couldn’t hold it in. You sobbed as she sobbed with you, thinking about the little angel that was gone now.

* Your pregnancy was perfect timing for everything that happened.

*You just got married, came back from your honeymoon and was able to enjoy married life for a minute

* You felt sick for a few days and it struck you one day to just check and see, Your eyes nearly popped out when you saw the infamous two lines.

* You didn’t wait a second though, You nearly speared Sero down and waved the test in his face. Tape boy was over the moon about it, he was more than excited! He was going to be a dad and be the best one yet.

* He always held your hair, rubbed your back, kissed your forehead and made sure you were hydrated after your morning sickness.

* He was a pro at midnight, midday and early morning cravings. He didn’t care if he had to drive across town for it. He’d do anything for his tiny bean.

* Pregnancy tracker was his favorite because he was so excited to know about the little bean that was waiting to be brought out. When you began to form a bit, He admired you. He dropped down and placed kisses all over your stomach while talking to the little thing.

* Around the end of your third month however, You began to have intense pains. It started out minor but increased rather fast.

* Sero hated to leave you alone that morning, He tried to call out and have someone take it but you told him you were fine and he should go.

* Which he did but never stopped checking his phone. Every minute, he glanced for a message, ringtone, something.

* When your ringtone did ring, he snatched it and answered. He heard the whimper in your voice, the scattered and static chatter and lastly the siren.

* He didn’t hesitate to leave that minute, He sped to the hospital. He barely parked the car and rushed inside. He walked in and told the nurse who he was. It sent chills down his spine when they said you were in surgery.

* Minutes turned to hours as the Baku-squad came to keep him company, to keep a smile on his face. Your name was announced and the minute she said “I’m sorry, She had a miss-” He shuts down.

* “Where is she?” He asked softly as his feet rushed to you before she could say the last number fully. The door sung open as your eyes connected and emotions flowed. You sat on the edge of the bed with a breathing machine on your nose as he hugged you, his hiccupped cries finally coming out while you cried in his arms. Your hearts broken by the bean you lost.

* Shoto is usually prepared for the unexpected like your relationship, marriage an so on.

* He wasn’t expecting to even be married and here he was. Happily married to you.

* The poor man wasn’t ready for the announcement though. It was a mixture of bad timing and horrible bluntness.

* Iida was pranked by his girlfriend so when you told him, He basically asked “Are you joking?”

* Poor man had to sleep on the couch for only three hours before you gave in and let him sleep in the bed again. It took that and kisses to get you to forgive him.

* Now, Shoto was prepare physically but mentally he was terrified. He didn’t want to make a mistake and screw up. He doesn’t want to bare the burden his father did to him and his family.

* Was he even capable of handling a little one?

* Two months in though, when he saw your stomach forming a little bump. He couldn’t help but feel excitement through his worries. He was going to be a father, a parent. He wasn’t alone, he knew you’d help him through every step.

* Like Sero’s though. It happened in a instant. At your baby shower no less, Fuyumi was on high alert. You was gorgeous from head to toe and yet you had the most uncomfortable look on your face.

* You couldn’t wiggle, sit, or walk it away. You wanted to ease it somehow but it didn’t seem to work.

* The mere minute you were about to discover the gender of the child, you blacked out.

* Natsuo luckily caught you before you touched the ground. When you opened your eyes, you felt the blinding lights of the hospital shining down on you. A soft moan slipped out as the pain was gone, but something was wrong.

* As if it was a signal or something, Shoto rushed to you and kissed your head. He was happy to see that you were okay, awake to say the least. It took a few minutes until the doctor walked in and finally laid the news on you. “I-I sincerely apologize but...You had a miscarriage, Mrs. Todoroki.” He said as Fuyumi gasped.

*You shook your head in disbelief, there’s no way. Everything was fine. You were fine. They were fine! The more you shook your head the more tears rolled. You hands gripped the side rails before you let out a scream in agony. The fire alarm was triggered, causing the water to spray down.

* Smoke hissed from Shoto was ice crystals were on the floor, He was frozen as his emotions and quirk couldn’t be contained. Questions rolled through his mind as each second seemed long, tears rolled down his cheeks as Nastuo snatched his brother into a hug while Fuyumi held you in her arms. Shoto wasn’t prepared for a tragedy like this.

#my hero academia #bnha fanfiction #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero academia fanfiction #i hope you like this #bnha angst #bnha shoto x reader #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha mina x reader #bnha sero x reader #bnha kirishima x reader #bnha denki x reader

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the-purity-pen · 3 years

Text

PTC: part v

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader

gif by @pascalsky

Word Count: 2,312

Rating: PG

Warnings: sweet moments, little bit of angst.

A/N: here’s the next part! some reveals. did you guess correctly? @creativekat and i are having a blast writing this and we really do love this story and these characters!

Series Masterlist

You looked around the large rented ballroom and shook your head nervously. You had brought up the idea of taking the kids out on field trips to facilitate their learning and the Heroics school board had decided to hold a fundraiser to help take this from an idea to reality. You hadn’t imagined that they might opt to raise said funds by auctioning off dates with the Heroics themselves. Since the event would be opened to the public, it couldn’t be held at HQ (a logistical nightmare) so a local Events Center had been the next best option. Now, as you watched the room beginning to fill with people you could see why. This was, apparently, the event of the century.

Soft classical music was being piped in from speakers in the corners of the room as people mingled, getting drinks from the bar. Your students were all wearing black outfits and acting as greeters and coat-checkers so the gathering masses would see just who their money would be helping. You quickly realized, for some here, it wouldn’t matter where the money was going. A night on the town with one of the Heroics was a hot commodity.

Glancing over at Marcus, surrounded by half a dozen women, you understood the appeal. The urge to go over and rescue him from his adoring fans was strong, but you couldn’t do that. For one thing, as the teacher of his daughter and the other Heroics’ kids it was inappropriate. For another thing, you’d spotted your brother in the crowd and you just knew he’d have an opinion on your feelings for Marcus Moreno and you just didn’t want to hear it.

Wearing a suit and tie was really nothing new but wearing it that evening made Marcus super uncomfortable. Not that the women who were flocked to him would have complained. A few of them tried chatting him up casually but there were a few making comments about what their ideal date night would consist of. One of them even tried slipping him actual cash to try to rig the auction.

Marcus shook his head with a forced polite smile as he got more uncomfortable until his gaze looked out and found you. “Ladies, I have to go do my part in helping set up,” he explained with a slight lie as he gently pushed through them and walked over to you. His smile changed from forced to nervous as he approached you and leaned in to speak to you.

“What else is left to set up? Please tell me there’s something so I can keep myself busy,” he added with a soft chuckle as his eyes did a very quick, brief scan over your scan to take in your outfit. “You look beautiful by the way,” he commented quietly as he attempted a smile at you.

At his compliment you couldn’t help the heat that rushed to your face. You didn’t feel beautiful most of the time. Cute, sure. But beautiful? No. But, if Marcus Moreno was saying it maybe you needed to believe it. You shook off the exhilaration of the moment to focus on what he was asking. “Ummm, do you want to add the raspberry sorbet to the punch?”

The two of you walked to the end of the table where several pints of fruit-flavored frozen goodness had been softening and you handed him an ice cream scoop with a smile, “Thank you.” You giggled before adding quietly, “You look really good yourself. I’m sure you’ll bring in a lot of money.” You were surprised when Marcus blushed. A little thrill shocked your spine realizing you were the cause.

Missy cleared her throat getting the attention of you and her father, “We’re done getting all the coats hung up. We were wondering if we could get some snacks?” Marcus looked at you for the answer since you were the one in charge for this event. Nodding, you said, “You guys have done more than enough. You’ve earned a break.”

As she walked away, Marcus leaned closer, asking, “Are you going to bid on me?” His smile nearly melted you.

With a nervous laugh, you replied, “I don’t think that would be a good idea.” Marcus’ brows knit together in a frown as he scooped some of the sorbet into the punch bowl, watching it fizz as the softened dessert melted more into the liquid.

“Why’s that?” he asked, trying to conceal the slight disappointment in his voice. He was excited to participate in something that would help raise money for Missy and her friends and the school but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t see this as an opportunity to finally have you on a date night with him.

Just then, a clearing of a throat and a slap to Marcus’ shoulder caused both of your attention to break from one another. “Well, well, well,” Miracle Guy’s voice broke your concentration on Marcus and caused you to turn to look at him. You forced a smile as the blond male continued talking, “Looks like we’ll be in some pretty heavy competition tonight huh Marcus?”

The question seemed playful in nature but Marcus, and you, knew better. Any chance that Steven could show up Marcus, he would absolutely try to. You shook your head slightly and went to the other end of the table, suddenly feeling tension in your shoulders.

You absent-mindedly straightened a stack of napkins that were already pristine and watched as the two men finished their conversation. Was it too much to hope Steven wouldn’t press the subject with you? You watched as Marcus handled the other Heroic smoothly, then Miracle Guy, also known as your older brother Steven, approached you. Again, you molded a wobbly smile onto your face.

“How’ve you been?” The question was ignored as Steve glanced around before casting his imperious gaze on you.

“So, are you and Marcus Moreno going out now?” He said the other man’s name through clenched teeth.

With a shrug you replied, “No. What gave you that idea? Why would you think that?” Inwardly you cringed. You were never very good at hiding your feelings.

Steven picked up a small plate and helped himself to a couple slices of cheese, “I overheard the kids talking. Wheels seemed to think you were interested.” He popped some gouda into his mouth and then, “I just don’t want you to get hurt… and getting your hopes up that a Heroic like Marcus would… well, I’m just worried he’ll get bored, that’s all. I’m looking out for you.”

You scoffed. The way your fists clenched around the napkin you were currently holding, crumpling it should have been a sign that you wanted to punch your brother for being so rude. The guy hadn’t even had a serious relationship and yet he still managed to have a son by a woman he so-called loved. What did he know about love or relationships or even what it was like to be with you in a relationship? He had no right.

His name was called across the room and he gave you a pitiful smile. Your nostrils flared, trying to calm yourself before Miranda came up to remind you that it was just about time to start. You nodded, thankful that she had broken your frustration towards your brother. You walked with her towards one of the front tables as she kept walking to get onto the stage and welcome everyone to the event.

Marcus had watched as you and Miracle Guy talked, narrowing his eyes when you clearly got agitated. But, then Miranda had interrupted and the blonde hero had walked toward the stage. He yearned to go to you and take your hand, to make sure you were okay, but the event was starting and he had to join the other Heroics at the table reserved for them.

Miranda introduced the emcee for the evening, a local newscaster, and joined you at your table while the rules of the date auction were explained. Reaching across the table, she grabbed an open bottle of red wine pouring two glasses, “You look like you could use a drink.” She knew your family history, since she’d been on the interview committee when you’d gotten hired and you appreciated her support now.

Taking the glass, you smiled, “I shouldn’t let him get to me. I’ll be fine.” You glanced over at the Heroics table and saw Marcus looking at you. He smiled and you couldn’t help but smile in return, your heart fluttering in your chest. Your attention was again diverted when you heard the emcee announcing that Miracle Guy had pulled in $870 for the school and then Marcus’ name was being announced. Your stomach turned while the women around you all cheered wildly. You felt jealous of whoever won this date and watched Marcus walk up to the stage.

Marcus fiddled with his tie as he made his way onto the stage. His face felt hot even before he stepped under the hot stage lights. The cheering and hollering didn’t quiet down until the emcee shushed the crowd at least four more times. Marcus was smiling but he felt his palms get a bit sweaty. For a man who was constantly in the news saving the world, being in front of a crowd to be auctioned off for a date seemed to make him nervous.

His eyes squinted as he adjusted to the light and when he scanned the room, his eyes landed on you for a long moment. His breath caught in his throat, secretly hoping that you would bet on a date with him. Everything in his mind was trying to telepathically tell you to bid.

The emcee barely got his words out to start the bidding before the first few hands rose up, shouting $100, then $150 and $200 in rapid succession. There was a murmur of giggles and whistles as the emcee shouted out the bid numbers and kept trying to explain what a date night with Marcus would entail.

Your eyes couldn’t leave Marcus even after he had caught your gaze a few times. Your heart was hammering as you thought about the real possibility of someone else going on a date with him. The bids had gotten up to $700 and it was down to two people. Both of the women in question had been acting especially thirsty when talking to Marcus earlier.

Throwing caution to the wind, you raised your hand, “$750!” Every eye in the room seemed to turn in your direction with varying reactions. Miranda’s eyebrows shot up, but she grinned at you. The two other bidders glared in your direction. Your students all shared happy grins (especially Missy and Wheels). Steven looked disappointed and aggrieved. But, the only person who mattered to you in that moment was Marcus and he looked relieved and happy, a wide grin forming on his face.

There was some more bidding back and forth while you did math in your head trying to figure out how much you could actually afford. You really didn’t want to lose this. Finally, you bid $1390 and everyone in the room waited to see if either of the other two women would raise the stakes yet again. Finally, the emcee announced, “At $1390, the highest bid of the night so far, a date with Marcus Moreno to the lady at Table 4!”

Breathlessly you leaned back in your seat then gasped, “Oh my God… what did I do?” Marcus was just as breathless as he heard the applause and watched your face as he finally stepped down from the stage.

As he approached your table all eyes were on him and subsequently, you. He stood in front of you, towering over your sitting frame and you audibly gulped at the impressive broadness of him. "So a date it is," he said quietly as he sat down in the chair next to you.

His heart was hammering as he placed his hand over yours and patted it gently before looking back to the stage to see Mrs. Vox coming onto the stage to be bid on.

Off to the side, Steven was furrowing his brow at you and Marcus, trying to see if he could study what your lips were saying to each other. His nostrils flared slightly as seeing how relaxed and comfortable Marcus was around you. Almost as if you had been together already.

You could feel your brother’s eyes on you, and you were sure he suspected you’d lied to him about your relationship with Marcus earlier, but you ignored his glares. You had bigger things to worry about right now. Like the fact that you’d just paid an overwhelming amount of money to go on a date with the parent of one of your students. You’d never crossed the line like that before and the fact that you’d done it this time had you reeling.

Not to mention the fact that he was a Heroic! Growing up powerless in a family full of superpowered people had always made you feel like an outsider in your own home. And they hadn’t done anything to dissuade you of that notion. If anything they’d made it worse, amplifying the sense of inadequacy you’d experienced.

Glancing over at Missy, who was trying to hide an enormous grin, you remembered the talk you’d had with Marcus at the Parent/Teacher Conference. She was, essentially in the same place you’d been back then. But, Marcus made her feel loved and accepted for who she was. As you moved your gaze away from your students your eyes met Steven’s and you gave him a determined tilt of your chin before turning back to Marcus.

Leaning forward you whispered, “I can’t wait.” Then kissed him on the cheek.

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homeformyheart · 3 years

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hey~

hope you are having an amazing week!

how would you feel about doing a noah harris x mc request from the best vs worst prompts?

maybe 21. best day at school vs worst day at school OR 27. best game vs worst game?

hi anon! thank you for the request, #27 was fitting and allowed me to close-out the chapter of my noah x mc arc (a little bit got cut out from my outline, but at least now it's finished).

author’s note: when I got this prompt, I decided to take the outline I had written for a continuation of my other MTFL fics and retro-fit it here, which is why it’s a bit longer than typical prompt fills. this finally gave me the motivation to continue the relationship I started in “first choice” and “the perfect gift.” I also drew some real-life inspiration from patrick mahomes of the kansas city chiefs (national football league in the u.s.). enjoy!

copyright: all characters owned by pixelberry studios. series/pairing: my two first loves - noah harris x mc (emma price) rating/warnings: 13+; none based on/prompt: best vs. worst / 27. best game vs. worst game; also inspired by the song “never really over” by katy perry word count: 1.7k summary: two years after graduating college and agreeing to go their separate ways, the universe seems to want emma and noah back together.

best game vs. worst game

worst game

emma tapped her finger on her thigh nervously as she waited in her boss’s office for her first assignment. she had spent the last two years since graduating college curating a travel blog for a small magazine, which had allowed her to travel all over europe, north america, and south america – an experience she knew was probably once-in-a-lifetime.

but she was homesick and decided to return stateside once her contract was up. it didn’t take long to find a position with a professional agency that contracts photographers out for high-profile athletic and celebrity events. even as a junior photographer, she was going to have the chance to take her own photos.

her boss finally handed her a sheet of paper without so much as a glance, motioning toward the door. emma supposed she was excused then, quickly scanning the sheet as she walked out to her car. a pre-nfl charity meet-and-greet was the assignment, and if she wanted, she could stick around to take some back-up photos of the game.

seemed easy enough. except the team was the nightingales. where her ex-boyfriend was currently the quarterback.

a little over two years ago

noah gripped emma’s hand, leg thumping nervously in anticipation. his other hand held hazel’s, who wasn’t faring much better at keeping still. on the other hand, mrs. harris had sat frozen still in front of the t.v. for the last thirty minutes, and emma had to keep glancing over to make sure she was still breathing.

to say they were all on edge was an understatement. in a matter of minutes, they’d find out of noah was going to become a professional football player.

“and the twenty-third pick goes to… noah harris!”

the room filled with squeals as they all jumped up from the couch and gathered noah into a giant group hug. his arm never left emma’s waist, even as he lifted hazel off the ground in excitement.

“you’re coming with me, right?”

she avoided his gaze, choosing to hug him and duck her head underneath his chin instead.

“tonight is about you! we can talk about us tomorrow. we should be celebrating!”

emma took a deep breath and pulled her car out onto the main road, making sure her phone was navigating to the stadium. she hadn’t seen or spoken to noah since they broke up – even though he tried to understand her reasoning, which was that he needed to focus on football and she was going to be traveling constantly – and she wondered if he was still upset.

if they ran into each other, would he even acknowledge her?

her mind raced with different scenarios of how their “reunion” could go and before she knew it, she was pulling into the stadium parking lot reserved for press. you’re here to do a job, she reminded herself as she took a deep breath and made her way into the meet-and-greet area where players were speaking to and hanging out with several families and children.

she took a quick look around and sighed in relief when she didn’t see noah anywhere. she could do this.

about an hour later, she was packing up her equipment. the game would start soon and she needed to get into position. she hefted her bag onto her shoulder carefully before standing up, immediately wobbling under the weight and losing her balance.

a strong arm wrapped around her waist and steadied her.

“thank you—” her voice died in her throat as she looked up at the man that still haunted her dreams.

his eyes and face were mostly the same, but there was a hardened edge to them that wasn’t there a few years ago. his body and shoulders were much larger as well, and he pretty much overwhelmed her frame.

“hey cheerleader.”

she swallowed. “hi, noah.”

his hand lingered even as she righted herself and cleared her throat nervously.

“good luck—”

“it’s good to—”

they chuckled, tension broken for the moment as they looked into each other’s eyes.

“harris, let’s go!”

noah shoved his hands in his pockets and took a step back. “maybe we could catch up after the game, if you want to.”

her eyes brightened. “i’d love to.”

they didn’t get the chance. the world seemed to move in slow motion when emma saw noah go down in the pocket from a particularly bad tackle. he had to be carried off the field in a stretcher and it was all she could do to keep from running onto the field.

they had broken up so he could focus on his career. she hoped it wasn’t in vain.

best game

two years later

emma crouched low to the ground with her long-range camera, snapping pictures of the huddle. there was less than twenty seconds left in the game – just enough, if barely, time for one last play. they needed a touchdown. and she could feel the nervous energy in her body thrumming in time with that of the crowd.

when noah went down with that horrific injury a couple years ago, most people wrote him off and didn’t think he’d play again. and if he somehow managed to recover? they all just said he probably wouldn’t be the same. a collarbone injury was usually a career death sentence for quarterbacks.

but the media, press, and so-called sportscasters didn’t know noah like she did. how strong a fighter he was. how he picked himself back up after every setback and pushed onward.

this time, she was with him every step of the way.

that didn’t mean he had an easy go of it.

he had to get surgery and go through months of intense physical therapy to get his shoulder feeling back to normal. then he had rehab for football to try to get back into form. and there was always doubt as to whether he’d be as good as before.

the season hadn’t gone smoothly. they scraped and clawed their way to the playoffs, with opposing teams taking advantage of noah’s occasional hesitance in the pocket and conservative throwing by pressuring his position. but somehow, they pulled through.

sportscasters all over would remark about how something seemed to just “click” back into place for noah harris.

only noah and emma knew what that something was.

a few weeks earlier

“are you nervous?”

noah hummed thoughtfully as his hand trailed up and down emma’s shoulder.

“surprisingly, no,” he said after a moment. “win or lose, i have everything i’ve ever wanted right here in my arms.”

emma chuckled. “when did you become such a romantic?”

“you know you bring it out of me.”

he turned on his side so he could nuzzle his nose in her hair. “you’re it for me, babe.”

“me too, noah. i mean it. if you’ll have me forever, i want that with you.”

noah pulled back to look at her. “for real?”

she nodded.

of course, emma couldn’t say with confidence that their conversation made that big of a difference, but noah’s performance every game afterward seemed to be nothing short of miraculous. by all means, his shoulder should still be giving him trouble, but the way he was throwing today in the championship game would make anyone wonder if he had been injured at all.

but this was it. everything was riding on this last play.

they were down by three points and too far for a field goal. a touchdown would end the game and clinch the championship. the team wasn’t known for playing it safe, not with noah and his arm at the helm.

emma was glued to her camera lens and clicking away, but she was barely focused on the shots. she just hoped the footage was positioned correctly and usable. she heard noah call out the play and quickly scanned the field as players moved into position.

a hail mary.

it really was going to come down to these last few seconds.

she saw the wide receiver break through the line and speed down the field, turning back to where noah had stepped back, arm poised to throw. on instinct, emma moved her camera up and snapped the shutter, capturing the exact moment noah released the ball, right before he was tackled to the ground.

and then everything seemed to move in slow motion.

she swung the camera to the left, finding the receiver in the end zone with his arms outstretched. he jumped up and the ball came arcing directly into his arms and the stadium roared with such an intensity she thought she was going deaf.

emma quickly put away her camera and left her bag with her assistant before running on to the confetti-strewn field, weaving around reports, players, and staff.

she knew noah got tackled. she needed to see that he was okay.

despite the reporters surrounding him, she squeezed her way through and wrapped her arms around him.

“i’m so glad you’re okay,” she yelled over the stadium noise. “i knew you could do it.”

noah smiled and removed her hands from his neck. she frowned in confusion as he took a step back and dropped to one knee.

“what are you doing?”

he was holding out a ring box in his hand and she had no clue how that got there. did a trainer or someone sneak that over to him?

it didn’t matter. it didn’t matter that they were surrounded by tens of thousands of screaming fans or that this moment was likely being broadcasted live by the sheer number of cameras around them. it didn’t matter that his friends and teammates were all hollering and creating a protective circle around them.

all she could see was the love of her life looking up at her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

“the championship ring we just won today is nothing compared to what this ring means right here,” he said, opening the box to reveal a very sizable diamond.

“marry me, em?”

emma squealed, not caring that it made her look like an excited teenager.

“of course, i’ll marry you!”

noah carefully placed the ring on her finger before wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her up. he swung her around before placing her carefully back on the ground, bringing her in for a deep kiss.

“i love you,” he whispered against her lips.

“i love you too, noah,” she whispered back as they held hands and headed off the field.

* * * * * taglist: @choicesficwriterscreations; @khoicesbyk; @nyastarlight; @chetachisblog; @robintora; @shows-simp-card; @brycesgirl;

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softhxtch · 3 years

Text

TITTLE: FBI Charity Blind Date Night SUMMARY: For last four years FBI has been organizing a lot of events for charities. One of them are blind dates. This year Emily, Penelope and Derek decided to join in with Hotch’s name. Let’s just say, that at first he’s not the happiest person in the world. PAIRING: female! reader x Aaron Hotchner CHARACTERS: reader, Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia (at the beginning), Angela, Olivia (OCs), Daivd Rossi and Spencer Reid (literally mentioned once) WARNINGS: none (?), it’s just fluff and cuteness, I mean they go to the hospital, nothing bad happens, but be aware of errors and mistakes. ALSO in this story Jack is not born, not sure why just thought it would fit better. ALSO2: CAC - Crimes Against Children Unit WORD COUNT: 4,5K A/N: i’ve had a long break from writing and with this new year I decided to break it. there’re probably a lot of mistakes, so feel free to correct me. english is not my first language and i’m doing this just for fun!

'Did you send everything correctly? Are you sure?', Emily asked looking over Penelope's shoulder. She tried to keep up with whatever blonde woman was doing, but it was hard since she was moving so fast with her work.

'Yes! Who do you think I am?', Penelope answered with raised voice. Her head was shaking but eyes still glued to the screen. 'Can't you just trust me?'

'I do, we all do. But don't you think it's weird, that we still didn't get anything from-', Emily argued, but didn't even finish the sentence as her work phone started to make sound. She quickly picked it up with short 'hello' and was listening to whoever was on the other side. Her face was slowly changing as more and more words were going through the phone. Emily's eyebrows were risen and eyes bigger, scanning the room around her. Finally she nodded quickly and after adding short 'of course', she put the phone down. 'Hotch wants to see us.', Emily explained.

'Oh god.', was all Penelope could say. She stood up quickly, putting her laptop down on Emily's desk. 'I guess he got the message. Today's the day we die.', she added as dark haired woman also stood up, nodding

'Come on, Derek. You're going with us.', Emily pointed at him, raising her eyebrow.

'Me? I didn't even do anything!', man defended himself.

'It's all your fault anyway. You came up with the idea. Come on.', she added.

'Fine, but to be fair it's our idea. You're as much in it as I am. Just so we're clear.', Derek pointed out, as Emily rolled her eyes. 'Let's go.'

Derek's words were like a signal, because after that all three of them moved towards the Chief's office. They knew it was coming sooner or later. They would be called to see Hotch, he probably would be angry at what have they done, maybe furious and that's it. Maybe they would get more paper work to do. But it was unavoidable, Hotch would find out sooner or later. And some like Derek would prefer it to be sooner, but some like Emily or Penelope - later.

Derek was the one to lead the way to Agent Hotchner's office, with two women right behind him. He knocked two times one the door and opened them after hearing 'come in' from inside. Aaron was sitting in his chair, focused on papers in front of him. Pen in one hand, tracing text that for most people was really hard to understand.

All three agents looked around just to see any signs, that they could help. They paid a lot of attention to the big desk with a lot of papers on it, but everything was the same. Nothing too suspicious, but then in front of there were three chairs. Not one or two as usual. Like especially for them.

'Everything's okay?', Penelope was the first one to break the silence.

'Yes.', Aaron’s answer was short as he looked up from his papers with a raised brow. 'Is there a reason why something's should not be okay?'

'No. Of course no, sir.', blonde woman laughed as all three of them walked more inside the room.

'You wanted to see us?', Emily asked, her voice was quieter than usual.

'Did I?', Aaron answered back with an questions, putting his pen down. All three of the agents looked at each other with confused faces.

'Emily said-'

'What exactly did Emily said?', he asked. Aaron tilted his head, waiting for an answer. His face was stoic and stern as usual, very hard to read for any of them.

'Emily said you wanted to see us.', Derek answered. His eyebrows were furrowed, with thousands thoughts going through his mind per second. He was very much present when dark haired woman got the phone call, but all of the sudden he wasn't sure about it anymore. Maybe she heard something different? Or mixed up his words?

Hotch just nodded slowly. He moved his eyes from Derek to Emily, who was confused with this whole situation. She knew what he said, but just to be one hundred percent sure she went through the short conversation they had, like fifty more times.

'You said, and I quote, 'I want to see you in my office as fast as you can'.', Emily said slowly, her hands in front. It's like she was trying to calm herself down from this confusing situation.

'Exactly. I didn't specify who 'you' is.', man sitting in the chair said, like it was the most obvious thing on the world.

'Oh my God.', Penelope said, waving hands in front of her face as if she was trying to stop the tears. You could visibly see Emily's shoulders going down, her letting out breath she was holding for a long time. Derek just let out quiet laugh and shook his head.

'But since all three of you came here, then I guess something's happened.', he added, putting his hands together on top of the desk. 'You did something, that you know you shouldn't do and now you're just waiting for the consequences. That's why all three of you came here together.'

'I thought we weren't suppose to profile each other.', Derek said.

'Yes, especially when not everyone in the room is a profiler.', Penelope added with a firm nod.

'Garcia, you don't need to be a profiler to see all three of you having weird conversations, barely working in the office and basically being constantly out of place.'

'We didn't do anything wrong.', Derek said, pointing at all three of agents.

'Okay.', Aaron said quickly nodding. 'But next time when you put name that isn’t yours somewhere, you make that person is aware that you're doing this. And they give you their consent.'

'We didn't put anyone's name anywhere', Emily finally said something after, what felt like, hours of standing in their boss's office.

'Agent Hotchner, we write to thank you for joining our 4th annual FBI Charity Blind Date Night. Don't worry we'll make sure to choose precisely your date, just they way you put it in our questionnaire. Thank you so much and see you in February!', man read the email he got few hours ago.

‘You don’t have any proof, that it’s us, sir.’, Penelope said, her voice cracking at the end. Derek just sighed and closed his eyes, knowing how screwed up they are. ‘Anyone could do this!’

‘True, but you three are on the first place.’, he said like it was something obvious. The rest just looked a bit confused how they were first suspects, which made older man sigh. ‘The next one was Rossi, but he’s been out of town for the last few days. In the past he tried to set me up for few dates, but I don’t think he would do it through blind date, that you have to do questionnaire before. Who’s next?’, he asked, making his thinking face for a second, before continuing. ‘JJ? She has her own life and two kids to take care of. I don’t think she would have time to play with something like this. Oh and on top of that, she doesn’t put herself in someone else’s business. The last one is Reid and we all know, that he didn’t do it.’

‘But you have no proof, that all of us did it.’, Penelope started. Her hands were shaking and she started rambling, not knowing how to get out of that situation.

When Derek and Emily came to her with this whole idea of putting their boss in a blind date she didn’t know what to think about it. She thought that maybe it was a good thing. After divorcing Haley and breaking up with Beth, Hotch didn’t do much dating, or at least that they knew about. And Penelope thought that someone like Aaron Hotchner deserves to be happy. He deserves to laugh with someone who he likes and is not necessarily in a team or a friend of his. She wanted him to have a person, who would be with him in tough times and would take care of him when he needed it. Hotch is a tough person, but Penelope Garcia strongly believed, that there’s a person in this world who would understand him. He just needed to start looking and if she could help, she would do it.

Of course there’s also a lot of guilt, because whether she liked it or not, she was messing with his boss’s personal life. And how would they even tell Hotch about the fact, that they put him into FBI blind date. Penelope knew he would be furious and angry. So this kind of reaction was weird for her. Hotch wasn’t screaming, showing any anger. Nothing. Maybe a little annoyed, but that’s it.

‘Penelope.’, Derek started, trying to make her stop. She was only making it worse, by digging the topic.

‘You can be mad at us all you want, but a date would be a good thing for you.’, Emily started, making Hotch raise his eyebrows. Derek just groaned in the back, wishing for it to be over. ‘You know, sometimes it’s good to get out of your comfort zone.’

‘My comfort zone?’, he repeated.

‘Yes.’, dark haired girl answered. She put her hands together in front of her, not knowing where she’s exactly going with this conversation. ‘You have to go out sometimes, Hotch. Have conversation with someone, that’s not us. Have a meal, that wasn’t pre made months ago, drink wine and make jokes. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll meet someone wonderful.’, she ended, going closer and closer to the man as she was going on with her speech.

‘I’m not in a mood for a relationship, Prentiss.’, Aaron shook his head, putting some papers together on his desk.

‘That’s why we put you on a ‘friendship list’. It means, that you’re there as a friend and for chairty, not really looking for a lover.’, Penelope said quickly, stepping forward towards Emily.

‘The answer is still ‘no’, so please cancel my application.’, he shook his head, looking at the papers in his hands. When he hear any movements or complaint from the three agents in the room, he looked at them again. ‘I will pay the charity in return. And I guess you had to put some money into it too, so I will pay it off. But please withdraw my name from the list.’

‘But sir.’, Penelope started again, bringing his attention. ‘Maybe you should consider what Emily’s said. You know, new experiences.’, she added with nervous laugh.

‘So what’s the bet about?’, Hotch asked, leaning back with curious face.

‘If you go Rossi said, that he’ll do our reports for a month.’, Emily said after few seconds of debating if she should actually say anything else.

‘And if I don’t?’

‘We have to do this for a year.’, Derek admitted.

‘Please, Hotch.’, Emily begged, coming closer to his desk and leaning on it. She looked into his eyes for few seconds, trying to get some mercy from him. ‘I’m still half way through Reid’s reports from last month. I can’t lose this one!’

‘Well, you should’ve thought about this before going into another bet.’, Aaron answered, trying to keep his stern face, but Derek saw one side of his lips rising for a split of a second. ‘Now like I said, withdraw my name from that list and please go back to work. All of you. You can go and please close the door.’, he added. After finishing the sentence he went back to his paper, waiting for them to leave and when they did, he just couldn’t stop himself from small smile.

'I thought you wanted to go.', Angela said as we entered my office. She had one of the flyers of the charity events that she took from the entrance to the FBI building.

'Yeah, I did. But half of kids at the kindergarden are sick, I have a feeling, that Olivia is next.', you said, putting bag on the desk. You turn around to your friend and gave her apologetic smile. 'And I don’t wanna leave my sick child with my sister-in-law. She already helps me enough.'

'I'm sorry.', Angela just said, not knowing how to actually react. 'I know, that after last year you wanted to go.'

'Yeah, it sounded pretty fun.', you nodded. 'Plus it would be nice to finally get a kiss on the lips. Or talk to someone in full sentences.'

'Excuse me?', Angela joked, pointing at herself.

'Outside of this office.', you shook head, letting out quick chuckle.

'Someday you'll find someone. I'll make sure of this.', she said, coming closer to you. She stopped for a second and gave you quick hug, trying to make you feel better.

'It'll be kind of hard. Usually when they find out, that I have three year old child, they run. If they don't, then they get scared when I tell them I work for the FBI. And when I go on a date with agent they usually do this, because I'm a Unit Chief and have connections with a lot of important people here.', you explained with a sigh. 'I was excited for this blind date not only for meeting new people, but also because we will be on the same position. I won't be used and person who will be choosen for me would understand where I come from.'

'I know.', she said truthfully, caressing your shoulders. 'You know what? Screw it. I'll take care of Olivia.'

'Really?', you said shocked about the proposition. You knew, that Angela was the last person on earth who would offer herself to take care of kids. It's not like she hated them, just she's not the best with them. Mainly the youngest ones. But kids found their ways to her. Especially Olivia. She always loved being next to Angela and you could be sure, that she would be happy to have her as a babysitter for few hours.

'But it's just this one time.', Angela reminded, putting one of her fingers in front of your face. You immediately agreed and hugged her as a thank you.

'So? How do I look?', you asked after walking to the kitchen. You looked at both Angela and your daughter sitting at the dinning table, consuming their supper. Your friend made circles with her fingers, asking you to turn around so she could see the back of the dress.

When the email with the set up date finally came, you were the most excited since you could even remember. It was something you looked forward to for days or maybe even weeks now. Nobody in your team didn't know about this, except Angela. And she also was very excited for you. Whenever you had breaks from cases, she would come with new ideas for a dress or make up. And even though she'd be brushed off, you actually liked it.

For a long time you had no idea what to wear. Should it be something less formal? Or full on glam outfit? But when Angela came to you with a picture of navy bodycon dress, you knew it's the one. She advised you to wear it with simple black sandals and light make up, adding darker lipstick.

'Mommy! You're so pretty!', Olivia exclaimed from her chair. She still had her mouth full from the sandwich, that you made her few minutes ago. You could see her be really excited about this night, not because you're going out, but mainly that she's gonna be playing with Angela.

'Thank you, sweetheart.', you skilled, coming closer to them. 'I'm gonna be out for few hours and you're gonna be with aunt Angela, okay?', you explained, playing with her hair. Little girl nodded, taking another bite of her sandwich. Then you stood up facing your friend. 'Okay I should be back before midnight. If I don't call you and I'm not home, then you can track my car or phone.'

'Of course, as always.', she said with a wink, which made you laugh.

'And remember, if anything happens - call me. You've been in this house so many times, so you know where everything is. But if you're unsure or Olivia does something, call me okay?', you said, raising a brow.

'Hey! Don't use your 'I'm your boss' voice!', she said, putting finger in front of your face, which made you laugh.

'That's actually my 'mom' voice.', you shook your head.

‘Doesn’t matter. Just go before you’re late.’, she said, pushing you out of the room. ‘Remember it’s really bad to be late for a date, but it’s just awful to be late on a date with FBI agent.’

Aaron was sitting in one of three restaurants, that bureau offered to cover the expenses in. He told Penelope and Emily many times to pick the table somewhere in the corner, where he and the person who was a match to him wouldn’t be in a center of attention. It was a really long time since he went on a actual date or even out with someone, that’s not on his team. For a really long time he hated this whole idea. But the one night he was sitting in his flat with a glass of whiskey and thought, that maybe, but just maybe, it’s a good idea. That maybe Emily was right?

‘I’m really sorry, I’m late.’, female voice took Aaron out of his thoughts. He looked up, expected to see someone familiar, but that wasn’t the case. He thought, that maybe it would be someone that he knew. It definitely would be easier, than starting from zero.

But even if Aaron didn’t know personally the person he’s meeting, maybe he could just recognize the face? Place it with unit, that they’re working in or at least department. But as you appeared it didn’t ring any bell. Aaron furrowed his eyebrows, which made you immediately confused and started looking around.

‘You’re from FBI, correct?’, you asked, pointing at him and then at the back, getting more and more nervous. ‘The woman in front told me to go to table number eight. And that’s it, but maybe I said something wrong and she didn’t understand-’

‘I am.’, Aaron said immediately, standing up from his seat. ‘I was just expecting someone-’

‘Different?’, you asked, smiling a bit.

‘No, no!’, he answered right away with his hands in front, like he was trying to stop you from something. ‘Someone, that I know.’, he ended, explaining.

‘Oh, of course.’, you nodded. ‘I’m Y/N Y/L/N.’, you extended your hand with greeting, after what seemed like liftime in silence.

‘Aaron Hotchner.’, he answered, shaking your hand gently. Then he motioned to the table. You just nodded as both of you sat down. ‘Which department are you from? Sorry to be put it so bluntly, I just don’t think I’ve ever met you in the bureau.’

‘CAC.’, you answered, looking up from the menu. ‘I came here from New York few months ago. Got offered Unit Chief position, better salary - guess didn’t have to think through it twice.’, you shrugged.

‘That explains a lot.’, Aaron said with small nods. You just raised a brown, silently asking the same thing he did few seconds ago. ‘I’m from BAU.’

‘Oh ‘The Dream’ unit.’, you said. The statement made Aaron very much confused. ‘When I arrived in Quantico, there were actually quite a lot of changes and I had to hire new agent to my team. And about half of them started the interview with ‘well my dream is to be in BAU, but this unit could be a good start’.’, you explained.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s not your fault. More of a complement. It’s very rare, that most of agents, that want to work in a field also want to work in your team. And I’ve also heard only good stuff about BAU.’, you said, trying to keep the conversation light.

In fact this was the last time your conversation went to the topic of work. As soon as some of the comments, that either one made, were about work, you immediately would change the topic. You promised yourself, and Angela of course, that today won’t be about work. It’ll be about having fun and going out with not-so-stranger.

Aaron saw the effort that you made and he actually really liked it. No work, no phones, no cases, no murders. Just the two of you, great food and wine, that he didn’t even drink yet. He didn’t expect it but he was actually having a good time. So this one time he would answer his previous question: Emily Prentiss was, in fact, right.

‘Excuse me for a second.’, you said, hearing vibrations of your phone from the bad. Aaron just nodded, understanding as you opened bag and looked for phone. When it was found, you immediately opened it and panicked right away.

3 missed calls

2 unread messages

9:39 I know I was supposed to call only when there’s an emergency, but I think it is.

10:21 We’re going to ER.

‘Everything’s okay?’, Aaron asked, observing very closely your reactions.

‘I-I have to go.’, you said stuttering. You picked your bag and coat, wanting to leave as fast as you can. ‘I’m really sorry.’

‘What happened?’, he stood up quickly. He grabbed you by the arm, stopping from leaving the room.

'My daughter is in a hospital. And my friend, that's babysitting her won't tell me what happened.', right away the worst scenarios came to your head. What's could actually happen, that the two of them had to go to the emergency room? Did she broke a bone? Or just hit herself and needed few stitches? Or maybe she fell down the stairs and is unconscious? The questions, that were driving you crazy.

'Let's go.', Aaron just nodded and took you out of the restaurant, after paying for the whole meal.

'Wait, no. I can't ask you to come with me. I've already ruined your evening.', you shook your head as Aaron was taking you to his car.

'Don't worry about it. We can do it on a different day.', he waved you off, getting into his car. The comment caught you off guard a little. And you didn't even realize, that you were still standing on the streets until Aaron knocked on the window, getting your attention.

'Sorry.', you whispered, getting inside. He just started the engine and drove as fast as he could to the hospital that Angela land Olivia were at. 'Wait. Different day? We'll meet on a different day?', you asked, thinking about the whole conversation from few minutes ago. He laughed at how at first you didn't realize what he meant.

'If you want of course.', Aaron explained, getting slow nod from you. It was still funny for him how long it took you to get through it all. 'Look, I'm not a parent, but I can just assume, that your daughter comes first for you.'

'True.', you agreed.

'So, I could make huge scene about how you literally stormed out of our date.', he continued to explain his thoughts. 'Or just understand where you come from and help you.'

'Thank you.', you said, looking at him for the first time since you walked inside the car.

'No problem.', he said with a smile.

If it wasn’t for Aaron, you would probably be panicked, running around the hospital. Well, you still were panicked and scared of what exactly happened, but he made you a bit calmer. Told you to step back and he was asking all questions of where to go and what happened.

After twenty minutes the two of you ended up of third floor. Your heart was beating so fast, searching for either Angela or Olivia, but you couldn’t see them anywhere.

‘Y/N, you have to calm down. It won’t help-’, Aaron started, grabbing your arm. You stopped, but didn’t look at him, only scanning the room. And then you saw it. Familiar dark hair and the handbag you bought her for Christmas.

‘Angela!’, you called her name, bringing the attention. Woman turned around and let out deep breath, being visibly relieved.

‘Oh my God!. You’re finally here. I didn’t know how long I could keep her attention. She was constantly asking for you.’, Angela said. Then she looked behind you, seeing Aaron running after you. ‘Sorry for ruining the night.’, she whispered.

‘It’s okay.’, you shook your head. ‘What even happened? I leave you for few hours and you end up in hospital.’

‘We just were having fun.’, she explained and you just raised a brow. ‘Okay, we were playing tag. And then Olivia got tired, so we sat down on your bed. Then obviously she wasn’t tired anymore and started jumping up and down on your bed. And she asked me to join her, so I did. And then it broke.’, she started talking very fast and chaotic.

‘You broke my bed?’, you asked as if that was the only thing you could make out of whatever she said.

‘But I didn’t mean it. I tried really hard.’

‘And where’s Olivia now?’, you asked, trying not to get angry.

‘They took her to a cat scan. Doctor said, that her arm is probably broken.’, Angela explained, seeing you get more and more annoyed. ‘Anyway, nurses asked for legal guardian or parent, so I’m gonna go and tell her, that you’re here.’

You nodded and let her go. Your eyes were closed and head hanged down for few seconds. Were you angry? Yes. Were you annoyed? Yes. But your daughter was fine. She was alive and even though having a toddler with broken arm won’t be fun thing, you’d take it.

‘Again I’m sorry.’, you turned around to Aaron. He was still standing behind you, just watching the whole situation. ‘I won’t hold you up anymore, you can go. Thank you for everything.’

‘It’s not a problem for me to stay. If you-’, he said, coming closer to you.

‘You’ve done a lot for me today. Beside we have work tomorrow. So let it just be one of us who’s gonna stay up all night.’, you cut him. Aaron just nodded, understanding everything.

‘So, until next time?’, he asked, slowly taking few steps back.

‘That would be amazing.’, you answered. But then realized something. ‘Hey, but I don’t have-’, you started and put hands in coat pockets. Then felt something in one of them. You took it out and made on ‘oh’ sound as you read: Aaron Hotchner, Federal Bureau of Investigation, Behavioral Analysis Unit with phone number. You looked up to look at him one last time. Aaron just shot you a huge small and waved before turning around and going to the elevators.

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds scenario #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fan fiction #emily prentiss #spencer reid #penelope garcia #derek morgan #david rossi

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universemarvel · 3 years

Text

The time Peter should have FIRST called Mr. Stark “Tony.”

By @universemarvel for @sdottkrames

Rating: general audiences

Relationships: Tony Stark & Peter Parker

Characters: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Summary: an irondad one shot where Peter gets... hurt., and handles it in a Peter Parker Way™️. Tony is honestly just trying his best okay?!?

Part of the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Read on ao3 here

Or continue reading via tumblr here...

“Peter!”

The kid jumps and his head snaps towards his mentor. He smiles sheepishly. “Yes, Mr. Stark?”

“What are you doing?” Tony held his coffee mug up in front of his mouth in a poor attempt to hide the smile on his face.

Peter looked down to his messy table, which was occupied by empty blue and silver snack wrappers, drinks, and his Spider-Man suit, which he was currently scrubbing with a sponge. He picked up one of the wrappers that still had some did in it. “I’m... trying all the pop tart flavors,” he said, taking a bite out of the pastry.

“You feeling alright?” It’s not often he could walk up unnoticed upon Peter.

But Peter just smiled. “A little lightheaded from the sugar rush, but otherwise fine;” his smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. “Why?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Why are you scrubbing your suit with a sponge? I’m sure there’s a dishwashing machine somewhere in this building,” he finally revealed his smile.

Peter’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Is the suit dishwasher safe? Because that would actually be great.”

Tony laughed. “I’m not answering that. What happened? And please don’t tell me you’re hand scrubbing your multi-million dollar suit because you forgot to put on deodorant.”

Pink painted Peter’s cheeks as he smiled and shook his head. “No, I just got something on it and it stinks. Do you want to smell it?” He offered the suit up, and Tony took a step back reflexively.

“No thanks, kiddo, I’m rather enjoying my coffee at the moment. However, I do have a decontamination gadget for a reason, so let’s throw it in there for a few hours so we can go back upstairs for dinner. That is, if you’re still hungry after eating New York’s entire stock of pop tarts.”

“Of course I’m hungry,” Peter smiled, “and if your cleany-box doesn’t work, can we try the dishwasher?”

“Absolutely not.”

__________

After dinner, the pair found themselves scrolling through Netflix. Peter’s lightheadedness from earlier had slowly been developing into a headache, but he didn’t want to bother Tony with it.

He didn’t feel like watching a movie, which he figured was a red flag, but he picked a Star Wars movie to avoid raising suspicion.

“Are you sure?” Tony’s voice pulled Peter from his attempts to distract himself from his headache.

“Am I sure...about what?”

Tony eyed him suspiciously, and Peter tried to think of what he did that was out of the ordinary so he could reverse it.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Tony squinted his eyes.

“Of course.”

“Correction-“ his mentor rolled his eyes; “do you have any pain at all?”

Peter shook his head, still trying to figure out what his giveaway behavior was. “Why?”

Tony crossed his arms. “Because we watched this movie last night.”

Peter’s breath caught, and he reached for a lie. He shrugged. “I feel like you didn’t appreciate it enough the first time.” His mind replayed the evening before. “Aaand you fell asleep, so technically you can’t say you watched it last night.”

Tony’s mouth was still pressed in a thin line, revealing his doubts, but he just shook his head. “Okay,” he gave in, “but don’t make me regret this.”

Peter smiled, hoping the well-known noises from the familiar film would minimize his headache’s growth.

__________

Still in the process of waking up, he was glad the room was so nice and quiet. He knew he was still at the tower because it was always loud at his apartment. His headache was gone, and realizing he was in his room at the tower, he wondered with a start how he’d gotten back here from the living room; he figured he must’ve been pretty tired last night to have been so out of it.

He waits for the noises of the tower to reach him, but they don’t. He sits up quickly, somehow quietly. Too quietly. He looks down at the sheets, and runs his hands back and forth on them. He can’t hear them, and his eyes widen. He can see his chest is moving quicker with his increased breathing pace, but he can’t hear that either.

He brings his fingers to his ears and snaps.

Nothing. He tries again, watching his hand this time to make sure he snaps correctly, still nothing.

He feels true panic swell up in his chest, and jumps out of bed. He rushes to put a shirt and a pair of pants on, and the silence of his movements scares him; he feels like he’s watching a movie on mute, except he’s never not heard at least his own breathing. He opened the door, and paused; the silence of the hallway greeted him like a wave, rushing into his head with an overwhelming ringing he feels rather than hears.

It hurts.

On second thought, he closed the bedroom door again, shutting himself off from the hallway. It had to have been whatever chemical was on the suit. The suit which was now decontaminated and as clean as it had been new. How helpful would it be going to Mr. Stark without any information? Maybe if he could retrace his steps from yesterday, he could find out what the chemical was. He glanced at the clock, and saw it was 7:15. Tony wouldn’t be awake for several hours still, so Peter could get a head start until then. If all went well, Peter could even analyze the sample and neutralize it before Tony was up for his usual weekend 11 am breakfast.

__________

Peter made it to the spot he’d been sprayed by the bad-smelling stuff by 8 o’clock. He landed, slowly turning around to assess the area. It was a bright alleyway, lit from the morning sun’s reflection off a nearby skyscraper, but was still secluded and generally ignored by passerby’s due to it being a dead end street, blocked off by a wall of brick apartment.

He realized that he hadn’t said anything to Karen, who had no doubt been talking to him since he put the mask on; he wondered what she had been saying, and felt partly guilty for what was probably perceived as him ignoring her.

He didn’t want to tell her he couldn’t hear, however, for fear of some hidden protocol that would alert Tony, so he did his best to try to sound natural, a difficult task given that he couldn’t hear himself.

“Hey Karen,” he said, and paused. What did she normally say to him? Ask him how he was doing? How he slept? She would have for sure commented that she was glad to see him, but her usual trail of discussion had probably been derailed by the fact that he hadn’t acknowledged anything she’d said throughout the entire trip thus far.

“Sorry for ignoring you,” he said after giving her a chance to talk, “everything’s fine, I’m just trying to find something. Here. For Mr. Stark.”

He waited a beat, hoping he wasn’t cutting her off or waiting too long to respond, but honestly he had no idea.

“Could you help me find any synthetic chemicals on the walls or ground here? I’m looking for the stuff I got sprayed with yesterday.”

If she replied, he didn’t know, but he was glad to see diagnostics pull up as Karen began to highlight a plethora of invisible substances in the environment around him. With each one that pulled up, Karen did a quick calculation as to what it was.

He scanned his surroundings; urine, vomit, urine, blood, urine, some more urine, a few unidentifiable splotches, but he could tell from their location and position that they weren’t what he was looking for.

His shoulders slumped forwards, and he frowned.

He saw a shadow grow forward into the alleyway, and jumped around in a twist to see what was there. It was just a garbage truck, but the fact that it was now looming over him in the alleyway without him knowing it was even there still had his blood running cold. He jumped onto the wall and started climbing. Halfway up, Tony’s face appeared on his display. He realized it was an incoming call, and too late requested, “Karen don’t answer!” As the call connected through.

He couldn’t hear anything of course, and knowing Tony was currently talking to him made his breath quicken. Also the fact that it wasn’t even 9 am, which was early — and therefore abnormal, for Tony.

“Hi Mr. Stark,” he greeted as happily as he could. “I’m, uh, climbing up this wall at the moment, can I, uh, can I call you back later?”

He hoped Mr. Stark said yes, and he wished he’d have video called so Peter could see his expression and attempt to read his lips, but he couldn’t. Instead he quickly exhaled “Karen, hang up,” and watched as the call disconnected. He climbed onto the roof, and hoped that Karen’s compliance to hang up meant that Tony hadn’t said anything too important. Besides, Peter should probably head back to the tower anyways to start figuring out what was wrong.

Now that he was on the roof, however, he was met with another wave of panic as the view of the skyline met him. He looked at the silent scene of a busy New York City morning, down the streets where he knew cars were still honking, people were talking, phones were ringing, and kids were yelling while they played on their weekend, a morning free from school. He knew it was going on, and he was missing it. Sure, this was every day for a lot of people, but he was Spider-Man. His job required his ears.

As if to prove his point, his spider sense flared up, and he fell to the ground. He looked around, not knowing why or where it had come from, but he didn’t see anything. Was he even the one in danger, or was it alerting him that someone else needed his help? After nothing happened for another moment, he ran to the side of the building and looked down. The scene he saw was normal, people walking, cars driving, even the alleyway he had come from was clear. His spider sense was still pulsing though, so he ran to the next side of the rooftop, frantically looking towards the street.

His eyes immediately found the scene, a car crash. It had just happened, and he wondered if he’d have been able to prevent it if he’d been able to hear. He didn’t know if they’d crashed before or after he’d felt the warning, although experience told him it was the latter. He swung down to the scene, and saw the driver open their door and fall out of the car. He ran up to her, seeing the passenger seat was empty, and helped her to her feet.

“Are you alright ma’am?” He asked, and not seeing any blood on her or problem with standing on her own, he thought so. Except her expression was still extremely worried, and she was talking, yelling maybe, but Peter couldn’t tell what she was saying. She then stumbled forward. Peter caught her, confused as to what she was going on for. She had just been in a motor vehicle accident, after all, so maybe a bit of odd behavior could be expected? He wished he could hear her to be sure.

She pointed back to the car. He looked, but didn’t see anything in the seats, besides boxes that had fallen in the back; other people were approaching the car now, too, trying to open the crushed back door. His spider sense was still calling, and he wondered what was in the back that could be dangerous. What everyone but him currently knew of. He turned back to face the woman, but she just grabbed his arm with a grip that told him that Something was Not OK and brought him around to the back, tears on her face now. The driver of the other vehicle ran up to them, saying something, before turning and walking anxiously with them. Confused, Peter cautiously followed them to the car, pushing past other people.

He suddenly saw behind the boxes in the back seat that there was a baby car seat, spider-sense screaming, and he was pretty sure he cursed out loud. He darted past the woman, pushed past the small, struggling crowd, and tugged the jammed car door, ripping if half off its hinges. He pushed the boxes out of the way to get to the baby. He tore the seatbelt in half to let the car seat loose, and handed the entire seat to the woman.

He glanced at the baby, happy and relieved to see her alive— crying but unharmed, and he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. The mother unbuckled her, smiling now, and seeing that the scene was okay to go on without him, Peter left.

He swung away, away to a rooftop surrounded by nothing but open sky, and crumpled to the ground.

His spider-sense didn’t stop. He didn’t feel safe anymore. His chest tightened, and he felt like his airway was closing. He closed his eyes tightly and focused on breathing in, slowly, breathing out, slowly. Repeating it. His fingers dug into the rough artificial ground.

Someone could be screaming right next to him, and he wouldn’t even know it.

He could see something flashing even through his closed eyelids, and opened his eyes to see this at his display had changed.

Next to a transparent box showing his elevated vital signs, Mr. Stark’s concerned face was on the screen. He said something, but Peter shook his head.

“I can’t hear you, Mr. Stark,” he said, hoping his voice was louder than a whisper, “I can’t hear you.”

Tony frowned, typing something on his screen and saying something else Peter hoped wasn’t supposed to be directed at him, and at once a new message popped up on the screen, all systems online and functioning correctly.

Peter just shook his head again. “I’ll be right there,” he said, “I’m heading back to the tower now. Please meet me there, please.” And he hung up before Tony could try to tell him something again.

He had to take four breaks on his short trip back to the tower, just to breathe. He felt like he was dying, but he hadn’t been hit by anything, so he couldn’t be. It painfully reminded him of an asthma attack like those he used to have pre-powers.

But, unlike those past times when he wouldn’t have even been able to stand, every time he caught his breath even just enough to stand up again, he forced himself to keep going. He was so afraid to see someone get hurt, or worse, without him being there to prevent it from happening. His never relenting spider-sense made him feel like people were getting hurt around him; it made him feel blind, like he couldn’t see things he knew were there.

It wasn’t even 10 am when he arrived back at the tower, but Peter fell into the tower window, gasping. He saw Mr. Stark stand up in surprise at Peter on the floor, before rushing over to him. Peter pushed himself up so he was sitting, and ripped off his mask. He felt the tears on his face and didn’t know how long he’d been crying for. He just wished he could hear the voice of his mentor as he stopped in front of him.

Peter reached forward and grabbed his shirt, seeing that the man was trying to talk to him.

Peter cried, “I can’t hear, Mr. Stark; I can’t hear you.”

Mr. Stark pulled him to his feet, touching Peter’s chin so that Peter could see his face, and tried to say something else. Peter shook his head. “I can’t hear you,” he repeated, “I can’t— I can’t hear anything.”

Mr. Stark pulled Peter into a hug, where they stayed until Peter could feel his heart rate slow and his breathing calm down. He pulled away to wipe his eyes. Mr. Stark gently took his arm and led him into the lab, where he handed Peter a metal device shaped like a pencil. He pressed a button and a nearly (but not quite) opaque holographic blank screen popped up in Peter’s face out of the long side of the not-pencil, making a sort of hand-held paper in Peter’s hand.

Suddenly the words, “can you understand me now?” Typed into the screen, and Peter looked up. Tony said something else, and the words, “it usually works pretty well, just let me know if something doesn’t make sense” appeared. Peter raised a confused and interested eyebrow.

“This is neat,” he said curiously. “Why do you have this?”

Tony shrugged, and started speaking. Then, “It’s not the first time I’ve had deaf friends hanging out in the tower, you know.” Peter didn’t know that, but didn’t ask further. Whoever it was had his respect, though.

“So do you have any clues?” Tony’s question popped up on the holographic tablet.

Peter shrugged. “Pretty sure it was whatever I got sprayed with last night.”

“Makes sense. You were pretty out of it yesterday you slept through most of the movie and didn’t even wake up when I carried you to bed.” Peter scrunched his eyebrows at the image.

Tony went on. “When did it kick in?”

Peter cocked his head to the side; “what do you mean?”

“What time did your hearing go away this morning?”

Peter shrugged. “Sometime last night.”

He looked at the screen, then at Tony when nothing appeared. Tony was staring at him with an expression Peter had seen before, usually when he’d done something wrong.

Tony spoke, and Peter was for once glad he had good reason to look away to understand him.

“So. You woke up. Your first morning missing a pretty important sense. And decided to go out as the crime-fighting, life-saving, danger-seeking Spider-Man?”

Peter didn’t know if the punctuation on the screen was intentional, but it helped give him an idea of how Tony sounded.

“Ummm, not exactly,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the screen; it was weird talking and not hearing your own voice, and Peter partially wondered if he was talking too loud. “I went to see if I could find a sample of whatever was in the, uh, the spray.”

Tony turned to the table beside him and pushed a button. Silent videos from social media popped up of Spider-Man helping a woman to her feet, then pulling a baby from a crushed car. He had to admit that even without sound, he looked a little lost.

He glanced back at Tony, he was now looking at him skeptically.

Peter shrugged. “I got distracted.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but Peter could see a hint of a smile on his face. He thought he was going to say something but instead he walked around the table to where Peter normally sat, grabbed a paper towel, then reached under the table and grabbed a yellow cube from the trash can.

Not a cube. The sponge from last night, that Peter had used to try and scrub the suit clean. Tony held it up expectantly.

A sample.

“Oh.”

Movement on the tablet caught his attention. “Oh indeed,” Tony said.

____________

They had the chemical’s composition within the hour. They had the antidote by lunch. They were waiting for FRIDAY to make the dose needed, when Peter saw Tony laugh.

“What?” Peter hadn’t said anything, and he looked around to find out what he was laughing at.

Tony’s words appeared, “I think it’s time for lunch. Friday tell us when the dose is ready.”

He laughed again. The words, “sure thing boss” followed on the screen.

Peter frowned. “Why is that funny?”

Tony smiled. “Because your stomach growling is more reliable than my alarm clock.”

Peter rolled his eyes, glancing down at his abdomen. “Traitor,” he jokingly accused.

____________

FRIDAY had the dose ready sooner than expected, so Peter brought the rest of his PB&J down to the lab with him.

He’d forgotten the talk-to-text tablet upstairs, so he didn’t hear anything Tony said and hoped there weren’t any urgent special instructions when Tony handed him a glass of blueish liquid.

Peter raised an eyebrow. “I just drink it?” Tony nodded and opened a can of sprite, leaning it forward for a toast. Peter tapped the cups, and they both drank. Peter made a scrunched face at the nasty taste after emptying the glass, closing his eyes as he coughed.

“So I’m guessing it wasn’t blue raspberry flavored?” Tony asked.

Peter shook his head and coughed, but froze when he realized he’d heard the question. He opened his eyes to see Tony smiling in front of him.

“We did it Mr. Stark!” Peter exclaimed, his voice sounding wayy too loud in his head.

“We did it,” Tony replied, and Peter visibly flinched.

“Everything’s so loud,” he said quietly.

Tony’s smile faded a little. “Hm.” He spoke softly, “whatchya say we stay in for the rest of the day and watch movies with the sound turned way down low?”

Peter grinned, “I’d love that, but then you won’t be able to hear it!”

Tony put his fists on his hips in mock anger, “are you saying I’m old?”

Peter laughed. “Maybe in spider years.”

Tony rolled his eyes and smiled. “That’s what I thought. Now, what’re we watching? And please don’t make me watch that same movie for the third time in a row. There’s only a certain number of times I can listen to the jar jar lizard, and we’ve already exceeded that.”

“Okay. So how about that old movie Predator?”

“Okay, now you are calling me old.”

“Of course, now that I can hear your reaction.”

____________

30 minutes, 2 buckets of popcorn, and 1 pizza later, the duo finds themselves back upstairs on the couch, working on pulling up Predator with subtitles for Tony.

“So,” Tony began, “going back to that topic of reactions. How about I add this: don’t go out when you’re injured, as if that’s a new rule. Or impaired in some way. And if something like this happens again, come to me first. Please.”

Peter smirked. “Of course.”

“Nuh-uh, I need a stronger promise than that, bud. I don’t feel reassured at all.”

Peter sobered up, then. “Okay,” he said, “I will. Seriously. I was so scared.”

“Me too, Kid. Me too.”

“I thought I’d never hear you again. Or anything.”

“Aw, you’d miss hearing me?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Just the good stuff.”

“Like how much I care about you? And how great you are? And I’m so glad you’re my kid?”

Peter’s eyebrows shot up before he could stop them. He quickly turned it into a frown as if contemplating something. “Nah, I was thinking more about the times when you’re like, ‘do you want food?’ Or, ‘here’s some pizza,’ is a good one, too.”

Tony narrowed his eyes at Peter, who grinned. “But that other stuff you were saying is nice, too,” Peter added, feeling a blush rise in his cheeks.

“I’m glad you think so,” Tony replied, “because I mean it.”

“Oh,” Peter responded.

“Oh indeed,” Tony replied with a smile Peter could hear in his voice.

The movie started, and Peter rested his head into Tony’s side.

“I care about you too, Mr. Stark,” Peter said quietly. He knew Tony could easily hear over the movie’s volume. “And I’m really glad you’re here for me and that you’re my, uh, my mentor. Well, and like a father figure person, too.”

Tony wrapped his arm around Peter.

“Glad to hear it, Peter. You make a really great kid, you know. And I’ll always be here for you.”

”Thanks, Tony. And you make a really great dad.”

______________

#friendly neighborhood exchange #friendly neighborhood fic exchange #irondad #spiderson #tom holland #robert downey jr.#prompt #this is canon now #UniverseMarvel #avengers #marvel #tony stark #mcu #peter parker #iron man #marvel cinematic universe #spiderman #sdottkramer

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sadachmesarthim · 3 years

Text

coercive notions - stucky

content: semi-graphic violence, blood, minor character deaths, emotional manipulation and abuse, false imprisonment, kidnapping, torture in the form of nonconsensual body modifications, stockholm syndrome.

dead dove: do not eat. steve sucks big time in this one. i’m not really sorry about it.

note: happy 6k followers to @sweeterthanthis !!! i love the idea of these prompts, they definitely did their job !! i was thrilled when i saw i got my quote of choice. this one’s based on ”i wish i knew how to quit you” from brokeback mountain (my favorite angsty husbands)

if the timeline is nonsensical in this - think 2 years post engame but no one's actually died! there is also some background starker but it's only mentioned twice. this is my first time writing for steve and bucky, and my first ~dark~ piece. it was definitely the challenge it presented itself as, and i’m super thankful for the opportunity to participate alongside so many talented witers!!

word count: 4.2k ; read time 15 minutes

Steve'd survived because of Bucky.

Bucky was the one that kept the fevers at bay, bought him medicine, nursed him back to health even when neither of them thought he'd survive through the night. Bucky was the one that dragged him out of the river, and left him alive on the bank.

Left him to wake up.

Bucky was the one that welcomed him with open arms when Steve was abandoned by the Avengers. Steve'd lost his home, his family - everyone and everything he had - when the world rejected him (the millionth time). Bucky was the one that came back. He'd lost his arm, his identity, everyone and everything he remembered - but he still ran to Steve without hesitation. No matter how far away they got, no matter what separated them, they always came back to one another.

They got together right after the fight with Tony in Siberia.

They'd found each other, and suddenly gained a future.

Steve had never... really pictured himself having a future. When he was younger, he accepted that he'd die young. A fever that wouldn't break, a cough that wouldn't leave, pneumonia he couldn't beat... Then he joined the army. He suddenly... had possibilities.

But there was still war, he was still fighting, and he was still in the line of danger every single day. It didn't matter if he was fighting Hitler, homophobia, Hydra, - someone was always gunning for him. Someone was always trying to get him killed. And it worked! He died! Crashed straight into the ocean and froze, for seventy fucking years!

Until someone had the audacity to defrost him, and yet again force him into the line of fire. Without really consulting him first. It was something Steve was slowly coming to terms with - he’d always be fighting, always be serving, always be protecting.

He’d been failing his job as a protector, lately.

+//////+

They all thought it was a bit weird, but then again, so is living with two men that look seventy years younger than they actually are. So is living with your coworkers. So is being a superhero. So of course none of the other Avengers said anything.

Not when Bucky started asking Steve permission for things - to get up from, and leave, the table after meetings. If he could get seconds during breakfast or dinner. If he was allowed to come on patrols or missions. Everyone just assumed it was a forties thing, or that it was just Bucky getting more comfortable around them. The dirtier minds of the group (Tony, Peter, Natasha) chalked it up to a kinky sex thing.

Steve saw it as devotion.

Bucky saw it as a way to keep him appeased.

See, Steve'd gotten more... irritable, lately. Every time Bucky got hurt on patrol, was in a bad position during a mission, needlessly volunteered to do something dangerous - it pissed Steve off to high heavens, for no reason. It'd gotten significantly worse over the course of a few months, to the point where Bucky could barely breathe without Steve getting upset.

It came to a head one day when Bucky got pinned during a fight with New York's latest nuisance. He wasn't even supposed to be there, it was his day off, for fucks sake. But he'd heard the call go out, and suited up before following a few minutes behind the rest of the crew.

This particular species of big nasty™ (a xorrian dog? Thor had called it?) had an... upsetting taste for live, warm flesh. He popped up outta nowhere over Manhattan during the Friday morning rush, apparently scouting Earth for the next course in their Milky Way Dinner Service.

Bucky, self sacrificing moron that he is, was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Just as Steve laid down the final blow, narrowly avoiding the alien's jaw, Bucky slid underneath it, shoving his hand between the soft plating of the monster's stomach. He reached in, single-handedly gutting the thing while Steve put a shield-sized dent in its skull.

Their foe dropped almost instantly, crushing Bucky beneath several tons of dead weight. None of them would have known he was there, either, if Tony hadn’t programmed life-sensing protocols in a new combat arm he’d gifted the soldier for his second anniversary home and Hydra-free. A signal went to Tony’s suit the instant FRIDAY sensed structural integrity issues, sending him a precise location.

“What do you mean he’s here, babygirl? We didn’t call him in.” The worry in Tony’s voice was apparent, calling the attention of the rest of his team. They were all intrigued, prematurely pulled from their celebrations of a fight well won.

“It seems that Sergeant Barnes is approximately twenty paces northwest of your location, and his elevation is slowly decreasing. Would you like a map of the area?”

“Uhh, no Fri. I think I know exactly where he is. Cap, get your ass over here!” His heart rate was increasing by the second. If he thought correctly (as Tony almost always did), Bucky was... underneath the alien. “We need to pick this fucker up, or flip it, or something. I think Bucky’s stuck under it.”

Steve’s blood ran cold. “Tony, what the fuck are you talking about? Bucky wasn’t part of the group today.”

Steve didn’t hide his anxiety well when it came to Bucky. Their team knew that he was Steve’s whole world. One more life threatening situation, and Steve might actually die from old age with all the years Bucky’d stressed out of him. FRIDAY sending a detailed ping with Bucky’s combat arm location didn’t do anything to ease his anxiety, either. He knew it was just like Bucky to do something like this - jump in without word, all act and no think. Try to help his team out and wind up crushed by an alien pet the size of a 787.

Peter was next to them, soon, ready to help get this thing off their friend. Together, they managed to drag Mister Beast-of-the-Week far enough down the street, revealing a very unconscious, very bloody Winter Soldier nestled in the asphalt.

Steve was on him in a second, picking Bucky up with both hands. Tony already had FRIDAY doing preliminary scans and sending them back to Cho and Strange. Initial reads weren’t terrible, all things considered, but he still looked like shit. He might be five hundred times stronger than the average man, but no one’s prepared to be stuck under 200 tons of pure xeno-reptilian mass. Not even Bucky Barnes.

His head rolled back freely as Steve picked him up, exposing an already bruised and swelling jaw. Steve’s breath caught in his throat, choking him on his own shock. Saved by the bell, Cho called Tony back immediately, sending for one of them to bring him to the tower surgical site immediately.

“We have to go, Steve. Let us take him, we’ll get him fixed. We’ve done it before. We can do it again. But you have to let him go.” Steve’s upward glance brought him Tony’s exasperated face. He was dizzy, everything felt like slow motion.

He didn’t register the movement until he saw it, watching Peter’s hands as they held him back. Tony took Bucky’s lifeless form, carrying him toward Stark Tower and away from the wreckage.

The wreckage he shouldn’t have been anywhere near in the first place.

The wreckage he wouldn’t even have known about if he didn’t beg Tony to be included in all mission alerts.

The wreckage he would have avoided if it weren’t for the martyr complex he’d had since birth. It might not be nearly as strong as Steve’s, but it was still there. Bucky’d always gone to obscene lengths protecting the people he loved.

Steve had a track record of doing a piss poor job of repaying the favor. He couldn’t save him from the war. He couldn’t save him from the train, or from Hydra. He couldn’t save him from Thanos. He couldn’t even save him from a stupid little skirmish downtown. No, from where he was standing, Steve’d fucked up. Big time.

He promised that day, he wasn’t going to let anything like this happen again.

+//////+

It was weeks before he was back to normal, and even then - Bucky wasn't entirely sure he wanted to leave. Not because he was still sore, or not feeling up to par. In fact, he'd been antsier and more ready to get back into the field than ever. He missed his friends, he missed the people he fought evil with every day. He missed sparring with Sam and going on runs with Peter, listening as Thor regaled stories about Old Asgard no one.. could quite follow. Missed the twice weekly calls from Shuri. But most of all, he missed his freedom.

Steve wasn't ready to give it to him.

When he woke up after surgery, Steve was right next to his recovery bed. He almost looked like he did back in the day - sleep deprived, worry lines forcing their way to the surface of his face. Vague frustration enveloped him, even when he met Bucky's conscious form for the first time.

Their first few conversations were tender, loving, but it didn't take long for them to sour.

Steve'd insisted on bringing Bucky back to their shared floor immediately after he woke. He allowed Cho to look him over, FRIDAY to scan him, everyone to come say hi - but he never let Bucky out of his sight. Not while Bucky was awake, anyway.

He slept a lot in those first few days. He was still healing, and while it might have been much faster than anyone expected, he was also recovering from what should have been several deaths over. He spent most of his time in bed, asleep, or talking to Steve.

Most of it was lecture, some was praise. How stupid he was to get involved on his day off. How much Steve loved him. How he wasn't allowed to go being a martyr like that again. How much Steve loved him. How Steve was going to do a better job of watching over him from now on. How much Steve loved him.

There was a lot of that, after Bucky woke up. How much Steve loved him. How important Bucky was to him, how much it meant to him that Bucky was alive and breathing and conscious and okay. Every time he got a lecture, or a reminder, Steve's hand was on him somewhere. His shoulder, his wrist, his face. His throat. Every time he spoke, he squeezed, just the tiniest bit. Not threatening, not even to force acknowledgement. Just.. Because he could. To the untrained eye, it was just physical contact.

Bucky knew better.

Bucky knew conditioning when he saw it. When he felt it.

Bucky also knew he was significantly more susceptible to conditioning than most people.

Bucky was fucked.

+//////+

Tony didn't think anything of it when Steve asked for handcuffs that could hold a supersoldier back. He, too, was a pervert with a genetically enhanced super-boyfriend, who was he to deny the Captain a little fun? He'd designed restraints Peter could use without breaking (or hurting himself!), why not share the love?

No one thought anything of it when Bucky stopped joining them on missions. Trauma has a different effect on everyone, maybe Bucky just needed time to process almost dying (again). No one would blame him for it. Hell, most of them encouraged his staying home.

None of them... really thought anything of it when he quit leaving altogether. They trusted Steve's judgement, and if he didn't think Bucky was ready to leave, then he wasn't. Bucky knew better than to defy him, too - just kept his mouth shut around "yes, Steve"s and "okay, Steve"s.

The conditioning didn't stop as he got stronger. He'd been back to 100% weeks ago, but Steve was still babying him. Carrying him to the shower, not letting Bucky bathe himself, or brush his own teeth. He couldn't dress or eat without help, go anywhere without asking. "I just want to keep you safe. I need to know that you're not going to get hurt." Steve's words remained calm, level, but his face betrayed the threat behind them. If you don't listen, you won't be able to leave at all.

Bucky'd learned the hard way that if he didn't listen to Steve, he wouldn't have a choice. He'd attempted to leave their floor by himself while Steve was out on a mission with Tony, Nat, and Thor - he got up early, showered, got dressed. His first taste of freedom in a long time, he was so excited to go see everyone again.

He was downstairs and halfway through breakfast with Bruce and Peter when Steve got back.

+//////+

Bucky couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the sun. It's a familiar feeling to him, one he thought he'd never deal with again. The isolation. The lack of control. The fear.

Steve initially hadn't looked mad. He let Bucky finish his meal, kept a distant but watchful eye over the group until the two others finished and moved on to their lab work downstairs.

Bucky knew he was fucked. He'd broken rules. He'd left their room without permission. Steve might not have looked it, but Bucky could feel the anger and disappointment radiating off him.

After that... He wasn't allowed to do anything.

No workouts, no missions, no patrols. No leaving their room. Steve'd used the restraints Tony made - had him thoroughly tied down to the floor below their bed. No internet, no phone. Not a single book or movie or boardgame in sight. Good boys don't require entertainment to behave. No eating - Steve'd placed a gastric tube down his sinus to provide nutrition. His muzzle, the one hydra'd used... Steve'd locked it over his jaw, and left it there. Good boys don't need to use their mouths - not to drink, not to eat. Not to talk back or call for help. No using the bathroom on his own - he had a catheter replaced once a day, and Steve changed his bag as needed. Good boys don't get to leave the bed, not even if it's an emergency.

He learned to wait for Steve. Learned his schedule - early morning meetings with Wakanda, check ins with Fury and Maria, patrol a bit after lunch. Then, he'd come back, make sure Bucky's bag was empty and his feeding tube was flushed and clean before feeding him.

Steve allowed him to use the bathroom and shower at night, under incredibly watchful eyes. The restraints Tony'd made were long enough to stretch the entire perimeter of their room, but Steve kept him on a short leash. Bucky had five minutes total - shit, shower, shave. If he didn't finish in time... There's always tomorrow.

If he did, he'd get rewarded.

Steve'd wrap him up in a large fluffy towel, carry him to bed. He'd bring back the sweet little reminders, with his hand around Bucky's throat. How much Steve loved him. How this was all for his protection. How Steve wasn't going to let anything happen to him, ever again. How proud Steve was of him, for letting him return that favor, even decades later. How well behaved Bucky was, how good he'd been for Steve.

Steve was so different from Hydra, too. That's what made it so fucking difficult to resist the love bomb-type conditioning. He wasn't the torture type - didn't like the idea of doing anything he didn't have to. Steve didn't want to hurt him, and Bucky knew that. He found it harder to reject Steve's advances the longer he was locked in that fucking room, found it harder to discern whether or not he... wanted... to reject it.

He was Bucky's dialysis, and his drinking problem.

He was Bucky's oxygen machine, and the cigarettes he'd smoked to earn him one.

Steve could ask Bucky to do anything, ask him for anything... and he was powerless to say no. He'd tried.

+//////+

It'd gotten him a flick to the mouth, for his hesitation.

"When I ask you a question, love, you need to answer me. Do you understand?" The tears in his eyes nearly spilled over, sharp pain from his lips radiating into his nose and the corners of his eyes. He didn't want to answer. He wanted to leave. He wanted to run, to get the fuck away from Steve and the compound and everything.

"Yes."

"Yes what, angel?" Steve might've been good about keeping his emotions checked in public, but Bucky could tell he was smug. Gloating. He enjoyed this. What'd happened to the sweet kid from Brooklyn that could barely hold himself upright? Bucky missed him.

"Yes, Stevie. I’m sorry Stevie." Saying his name was painful. This wasn't his Steve. This wasn't the Steve he'd fallen in love with. Wasn't even the man that'd dragged him out from underneath that alien... How long ago? Months? Years?

Bucky didn't know anymore.

Didn't know why his friends hadn't saved him yet. Didn't know how his absence went unnoticed for... however long it'd been. Didn't know why he was struggling to be upset about it all.

Steve, observant as he was, could practically see the gears turning in the other's head. He cradled Bucky's face in his hands, drawing him into calculated eye contact. Bucky felt sick. There was something... wrong, there. Something Bucky'd never seen before.

"They don't love you like I do, Buck. They don't want you. They don't love you."

Bucky flinched at the words, physically recoiling from Steve's grasp. He knew it wasn't true, he knew... He thought it wasn't, right?

Steve's laugh pulled Bucky out of his own thoughts, bringing him back to the room in front of him. He had a display up, with various recordings of the rest of the Avengers. He flipped through them, muting and unmuting seemingly at random.

"... I mean, he's probably ditched us for Zemo again. Would that really shock you?"

"he almost died again. I don't blame him, i wouldn't want to be found eith-"

"-e can take care of himself, let's just give him time."

Steve waved the holo display away when he saw the first few tears fall. "Don't you see, Baby? They don't care like I do - they don't love you like I love you. No one will ever love you like I love you." Steve's words stung, but Bucky couldn't deny that they made sense. Of course no one was looking for him. He was unpredictable, still kind of an outsider. Why would they try to come find him? Why would they care?

Bucky's mouth moved before his brain could stop him.

"'m sorry, Stevie, please, I'm so sorry! I-I- I thought they cared, please, please don't leave me Stevie! I was so wrong, Steve please! Wish I knew how to stop, Stevie, but you know I can't. You gotta help me stop Stevie, I've been so confused, been tryin' to quit you Stevie but I can't. Wish I could quit you but I can't, I can’t be left alone anymore. Please, you can take my arm if you want it, Stevie. Take anything, take whatever you want from just please, please don’t leave me alone anymore!"

He was in hysterics at this point, unable to believe what was coming out of him. Was he really okay with Steve taking his arm away? Did he really love this Steve back? Was he just scared?

The worst part was that he couldn't tell.

+//////+

The smell of fresh coffee woke him before he was ready. His eyes burned, still dry after Steve refused to close the window before they went to bed.

Bucky would have closed it himself, but he couldn't actually reach that far.

They'd moved out to the cabin a few months after Bucky finally broke realized how wrong he was. It was a cute little place, big enough for the two of them but small enough to not draw attention if someone came upon it by accident. Not that they really could. Steve'd installed motion sensors five miles out, and had fully automated... solutions, in place, should any threats or issues arise.

They went entirely unused.

It really was a beautiful plot of land - they had a few animals, a cute pair of kittens to dote on and play with. He had enough room to move around, to sit in the sun or curl up in bed. He had plenty of books, games, anything and everything he could want to occupy his time, really. He had Steve.

And breakfast now, apparently.

Steve set the plate on the bedside table, gently sitting next to his lover and planting small kisses on his still shut eyelids. Bucky looked up and smiled, blushing at the hand that'd wrapped around his neck. He reached out, gently thumbing at the inside of Steve's wrist. Oh, how he'd missed this. Missed contact with his Steve.

He opened his mouth, accepting the bite Steve offered him. Steve always made the best pancakes, he thought, appreciating the hot meal hitting his tongue. He hadn't eaten this good in weeks. It was hard for him to cook without his arm, but Steve always provided. Steve cooked for them, cleaned up after them, made sure Bucky was sated. Safe.

He'd taken off for a mission nearly a month ago. A dangerous one, he'd said. One he might not return from for a while, he'd said. Bucky worried. He always did when Steve left, especially since he couldn't know where or why he was going. But Steve always came back to him. Sometimes, he was back in one piece. Once, he'd come home with an arrow in his stomach and several gunshot wounds. That'd been a... scary night. Another time, he came home with half of his hair singed off and his clothes in tatters.

Last night... Last night he finally came home, and he looked like shit.

He was covered in bruises, nearly 40 pounds lighter than he was when he'd left. There were holes in the shield, too large to be bullets but too small to be anything else easily recognizable. Some were through his suit, too - puncture wounds littering his chest and stomach. They were already partially closed, but he was still bloody.

There were still webs in his hair, too - Bucky brushed them away after Steve closed (and locked. always locked.) the door. He knew better than to comment. Steve was just protecting him. Steve loved him, he was doing what he needed to keep Bucky safe.

But that didn't mean it didn't hurt. That each time Steve left for a mission, Bucky cried himself to sleep. He thought, eventually, that the pain would go away. That the death of each of his friends would get easier, somehow. That the fear, the hope, of losing Steve would stop consuming him.

He'd just smiled, kissed his husband's cheek, and helped him strip down. He'd mouthed at the graze left on the side of Steve's neck, reverent in the presence that was his protector. Bucky'd developed quite the complex, in their time of isolation. Every time Steve came in - from cutting firewood, picking food from the garden, feeding the animals, or from nights like last... Bucky just couldn't stop talking.

About how he wouldn't be alive without Steve. How he'd still be a mindless slave for Hydra, killing innocent people under everyone's noses. How he owed Steve his life, a thousand times over. How he'd've been taken by Ross or Stark or Clint or someone, and locked away miles under the sea. He'd pressed them into Steve's jaw like kiss-coated secrets, like no one in the entire world knew these things but Bucky & Steve. Like they were bits of information to cherish, to chew on and savour before swallowing.

Steve just laughed, picking Bucky up and bringing him to bed. He followed shortly after, cleaning and patching himself up before snuggling right up to Bucky.

Sleeping was interesting, initially, but they'd adapted. It was easier to cuddle Bucky without his arm, but sometimes Steve woke up with his legs tangled in loose chains by the footboard. It was an easy enough trade, in Bucky's opinion. Give up his arm, give up a bit of freedom, and get a loving, devoted husband in return? One that would make him breakfast in bed, one that would hold him and kiss him and praise him whenever he needed? One that would kill for him? Die for him?

Bucky saw it as a fair enough trade, and if that meant their friends needed to die... He tried not to think about it.

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buckyjustbelikethat · 4 years

Text

The Fiction of Fairytales: Chapter Two

Title: The Fiction of Fairytales: Chapter Two

Characters: Stucky x Reader

Summary: (a/b/o au that is non-cannon compliant) After being captured and forced to live as Brock Rumlow’s mate for years you are kidnapped by the Avengers. They plan to interrogate you for information on Hydra and Rumlow, but after Steve and Bucky realize they are your true mates, they realize that their kidnapping was more of an unexpected rescue.

Warnings: Mentions of assault, kidnapping, death, and abuse, and strong language.

Word Count: approx. 3000

A/N: Hello lovelies! 💕 There's some Steve and Bucky fluff in this chapter that honestly paid my rent and cured my sickness (A joke, unfortunately both those things still very much exist but it might as well have). I hope you all are doing well! Let me know if you want to be tagged or if you have any suggestions or comments!

Previous Chapter

“Take the fucking handcuffs off her Stark.” Steve growls at him.

Tony knew that this was no time to argue, and immediately moved to unlocking you. He understood the fragility of the situation, so he kept his snide comment about Steve’s “language” to himself, though that doesn’t mean he will let him live down the expletives he used in the past ten minutes, but he has decided to postpone his comments.

They all noticed your slight flinch when Tony grabbed your arms. He tried to be as gentle as possible, but it didn't matter when none of them in the room had truly earned your trust yet.

Before Tony walked away, he spoke a simple but honest. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed you were one of them.”

He walked away before you could think of a reply. You weren’t used to being expected to say so much, and you were out of practice of how to respond to kindness and sincerity.

Bucky snapped you out of your daze at Stark’s words, “Are you okay standing?”

“Yeah..” the words I’m used to this ghosted from your lips, catching yourself before you voiced them after calculating the likelihood that this will make your alphas even more angry. You knew their anger wasn’t directed at you, but your mind couldn’t trust beyond a resounding “yet”. You still feared them, their protectiveness seemed currently to be their predominant emotion, but what would happen when the chaos settled. After the cloud of enticing scents and first meetings faded, and all they could see is you.

You unfolded yourself from the chair. Careful to hide your pain as you got up.

Steve and Bucky gave each other a quick glance that you entirely missed. But to them they had spoken a whole conversation of “I don’t know how to do this,” “I wish I could help more,” “I love you and we’ll make it through together.”

“You can follow me sweetheart.” Steve spoke to you with a smile and began leading you out the door, as Bucky trailed slightly behind you. It put you on slight edge, but them surrounding you was a desperate attempt to feel like they could protect you in some way even though you weren’t comfortable with them touching you yet.

This time, just based on the protective scents both alphas were putting out, the guards wouldn’t dare give you a dirty look.

They took you to a floor that appeared to be reserved for the Avengers based on the security scan before the elevator opened. You were led to the Avengers’ personal medical wing, and they brought you over to a glass room with a hospital bed in the center, “I’m gonna go get the doctor, Bucky can stay with you.” Steve said as he walked out of the room. His command even within that moment made his superhero title of “captain” that you heard Friday refer to him as earlier make sense.

“You can lay down if you want, doll.” Bucky broke the silence.

When you got up onto the bed, you did your best to lay in a position that didn’t bother your likely broken ribs.

“I’m sorry, but with all of this, we haven’t had a chance to even ask for your name. We’ve heard rumors, but we weren’t sure.”

“My name is y/n y/l/n.”

“Y/n, beautiful, I love it.” Bucky smiled to himself.

When he looked back up at you, he noticed that your cheeks turned slightly red as you blushed at his compliment. It was so cute, and he was sure he’d enjoy trying everything to make you blush like that again.

“And you’re Bucky? And he’s Steve?” Your voice was a little timid, unsure if you picked up on their words correctly.

“Yeah, doll. My full name is technically James Buchanan Barnes, but my friends call me Bucky.”

“I like your name, is it okay… am I allowed…” you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, so you were having a hard time asking what you wanted to know. At this point everything seemed like a minefield when the boundaries haven’t been clearly marked, if you were using the previous maps of your experience, you would have already treaded into dangerous territory too many times.

“You don’t have to be nervous, sweetheart, you can ask us anything. I promise we won’t get mad.” His words calmed you enough to ask your question.

“Okay…” you paused, building up your courage “can I be considered a friend?” You mumbled, surprised at your confidence in being able to voice the words. You knew even though you were mates, there’s a chance he may not even want you as a friend.

Bucky let out a small chuckle. “Of course, doll. I’d love for you to be more, but we will do this at your pace.”

You smiled back at him, slightly looking up for the first time, and you did not regret the action. The brief glance you stole you wanted to frame. He was looking at you with such a beautiful smile. The look in his eyes seemed to be one of adoration, and you prayed in that moment that it wouldn’t fade.

Bucky saw your glance, and those few seconds felt celestial. He had a hard time containing his excitement at the progress you made with him within such a short period of time. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but he knew he was screwed based on how your slight glance affected him, he couldn’t imagine what making you laugh would feel like, or even what kissing you would do to him.

Your moment was interrupted with the doctor walking in and Steve close behind.

The doctor quickly introduced herself, and after her introduction she added, “I think considering the circumstances, it’s best if we do this without your alpha’s in the room. Are you okay with that?”

Both of your alpha’s immediately tensed up, and though you didn't know whether you could trust this doctor, but thankfully she was a beta. You felt like if it were only her in the room you would be less afraid of being honest.

“A-re… are you both okay with that?” You asked your alpha’s.

“Don’t worry about us sweetie. This is your decision. We will be just outside of the room, you can call to us if you need us, or send the doctor. Does that sound okay to you?” Steve asks you in a calming voice.

You just nodded your head in return, confused but grateful at the consideration they were showing you.

“Alright, let us know if you need us.” He says before giving a warning look to the doctor, it wasn't that he didn’t trust or like her, but he had warned the doctor before of how fragile his omega was right now and that she was to do whatever she could to make you comfortable. The doctor didn’t hold Steve’s aggressiveness against him, normally he was nothing but courteous, so she knew it was just his protective instincts going crazy.

Bucky and Steve walked out of the room, as the doctor started putting up the curtains around the glass room. They went into the lobby-like area that was thankfully right outside of the room, they didn’t want to be too far away. For a moment they stood in silence, still processing the events that had taken place in the past hour, finding relief in each other's presence and a moment to exhale.

“Her name’s y/n.” Bucky finally said.

“That’s beautiful, it fits her so well.” Steve replied with a smile on his face, but his mood quickly returned to seriousness, “Buck, I feel like my whole body is on fire. I feel like I would give her my life already... but the pain behind her eyes, and the fact that she doesn’t trust us, and that I’ve already failed her, my body doesn’t know what to do with itself.”

“I feel the same way Steve, but you didn’t fail her, you were skeptical at first, but that is completely understandable under the circumstances.” Bucky said compassionately but resolute. When the look of guilt still mangled Steve’s features, he pulled him in for a hug. Gently rubbing his hands along his spine, hoping to ease the tension plaguing him.

“But you weren’t, you gave her a chance even when I already assumed.” Steve persisted, his voice was strained and barely a whisper. Bucky couldn’t see the tears collecting in his eyes, but he could feel the extent of his emotions through their bond.

Bucky pulled back slightly and gently grabbed Steve’s face. Trying to force Steve’s eyes to meet his own and hoping he will find the truth in them. “Steve, you are the kindest person I know, I know you have so much love to give her that eventually, when she learns to trust us, she’ll be sick of you.” Bucky smirked but his face contorted to an earnest expression for his next words, “I know you, and what you said wasn’t derived from hate but from your love and protectiveness over me. You were afraid, am I right?” He asked, his eyes searching his face.

Steve just nodded his head that still rested in his mate’s hands, his eyes downcast.

Bucky leaned in and kissed Steve’s forehead, pausing there for a moment before resting his forehead against his own. His eyes were closed as he rubbed circles along Steve’s cheek. “I love you sweetheart, and she will too, you and I both have to earn her trust, but I have no doubts that she will love you, what’s not to love?”

Steve finally smiled slightly at Bucky’s words, before pulling away to meet his gaze. “How did I get so lucky, not only with one perfect mate, but two. And don’t think for a second she won’t love you just as much.” It was now Steve’s turn to quell the doubts he knew his mate likely was struggling with.

This time it was Bucky who gently nodded in return, before Steve leaned in and kissed him.

When they pulled away, they continued to hug each other for a moment. Relying on each other for the support they needed, so when the time came, they could offer everything they could to their omega. “I’m worried for her, Bucky.” Steve said.

“Me too...m’ so worried.”

They stood there in each other's arms for a few moments before breaking apart, but even when they pulled away, they remained with their hands clasped, both standing in anticipation for the doctor’s arrival.

The doctor finally entered the room, and the concern on her face made them even more anxious for his report.

“I’ll start by saying she will be fine; she’s been strong enough to survive over the past few years, so I do not doubt her…. But she has a broken rib and fractures in her leg right now. Her body is covered in bruises and scars at various stages in the healing process. In addition, she seems to have experienced a lot of sexual and emotional abuse. I apologize, but I don’t think it is professional to discuss the specifics of what she said, I think it is best if those details came from her when she is ready to talk about it with you.”

“Okay, we understand.” Steve replied. They both suspected that she went through abuse, but the words being spoken by the doctor settled in their bloodstream like cement. They didn’t know you well, but your pain was devastating. They wished they could have saved you sooner. They wished they had known. Every moment of peacefulness, of happiness they had felt, now seemed cruel to have enjoyed while the person that completes them was suffering. The strength of their sadness was mirrored by their anger, though they would rather keep their anger trapped behind the glass until they are able to avenge their omega against anyone that caused you pain.

“I will keep an eye on her healing process for her injuries that are concerning, but I recommend setting her up with the therapist here. I just gave her some pain medication and food and water, and I will leave you with daily care and medication instructions. If her fear gets in the way of you properly caring for her, let me know and we can find a nurse that she is comfortable with.” The doctor continued.

Steve and Bucky both didn’t like the idea of that, but at the end of the day her health and happiness is the thing that matters the most. They just desperately wished for her trust.

“She needs a lot of rest to heal. I recommend maybe letting her spend the night here so I can monitor her for the night, you both are welcome to stay in the room with her.”

“Whatever you think is best. Thank you, doctor.” Steve said.

Both alphas were anxious to go see their omega again, so when the doctor was finished explaining what she needed to they both rushed into the room. Their omega was laying under blankets in the hospital bed, and you almost looked peaceful. Though they wished you were entirely devoid of stress, they will take the victory of even part of it subsiding.

They both stood by the door, unsure if you wanted them to enter.

“Is it okay if we sit by you?” Bucky asked.

You looked to the chairs in the room. Your gaze almost appeared to be calculating the distance and measuring the possible danger. You hoped the kindness they have shown so far won’t fade, but you acknowledged that you are likely in less danger than you were a mere 12 hours ago when you were still with Brock.

So, you conceded with a quiet “Sure.”

They could sense the unease in your voice but the alphas within them wanted to be close to their mate to make sure you are okay. Normally when alphas and omegas find their true mate, they are immediately hard to separate from each other. They hoped that their presence at a distance might at least offer you some comfort without pushing you too far. They hoped there was a part of you that craved them the way they craved you.

While you were fearful of your mates, you couldn’t help but want to be drawn to them. You could not turn off the omega inside of you that seemed to be calmed by their scents, but you were curious how much the doctor told them. She had assured you that she would not share the details of your answers to her questions. But did she say enough to tarnish their image of you, or are the unsaid details idle weapons, waiting to be used, patiently waiting to destroy.

They sat next to each other in the chairs beside you. After settling, Steve was the first to speak, “I just want to say again that I’m so sorry for assuming you were hydra. I should not have treated you that way, and I should have trusted you as my mate. I hope that you can eventually forgive me, but you are completely justified if you don’t want to.” You could hear that his voice was slightly choked up from emotion.

“I forgive you, Steve. But... I do have a question if you don’t mind. You said that you would protect me before. Does.. does that mean you want me as your omega? It’s okay if you don’t...” You were gazing down at your hands as you wrung them in your lap, suddenly nervous to his reply.

“More than anything, but only if that’s something you want.” Steve’s voice rushed, trying to stop you living in doubt for even another moment.

Your eyes started tearing up at his reply. In this moment you wished you didn’t have the fear you had, that this would have played out like the fairytales you imagined, but it isn’t those fairytales. You are trapped in a story with men who appear to be prince charmings, but you were unable to be the princess. How could the princess deserve her princes when she sees the face of her villain in everyone she meets? Your villain has turned you into the antagonist of your own fairytale, to get in your own way even when he isn’t there to do it himself. “I think I want that… I do but… I’m so sorry.. I’m just scared.”

Both men had to once again refrain from reaching out to you to try and console you, knowing their hands would not register as the comfort they desperately wished they could ingrain within them.

“Hey it’s okay, sweetheart. You are allowed to be afraid. It’s okay.” Steve tried to soothe you through his words.

“You just left years of trauma, it's okay to not be ready yet. It makes us beyond happy that you even want to try, doll.” Bucky said.

Their words helped calm your tears down.

“You should get some rest. We’ll have Tony set up a room for you beside ours for tomorrow, but if anything makes you uncomfortable just let us know. If you ever need distance from us just let us know and we will respect that. Are you okay with having your room beside us?” Steve asked.

You nodded your head in return. Honestly, you were slightly disappointed you wouldn’t be in their room, but you knew you weren't ready for that.

“Great.” Steve replied and you could hear his smile through his words. “Now get some sleep, we’ll be here if you need anything.”

You closed your eyes, and within minutes you were lulled to sleep by their scents and the sound of their breathing.

Next Chapter

Tags (open): @dark-night-sky-99 @fallenoutofrose @an-adventureland @xxlikeheavenxx @thisartemisnevermisses @coonflix @fab-notfat @snakesonastarship @thanossucks @yomama-umbridge @grandluminaryearthquake @laughsandlivia @bloo-moon-freak @this-is-a-chilis-drive-thru @sergeantrosabellaswan @rororo06 @rvgrsbrns @catthecreator @veganfangirl5 @rachelsfandommess @thinkaboutmara @cookiecat22 @6chewwie9

#stucky x reader #alpha stucky x reader #alpha bucky barnes #alpha steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #stucky

407 notes · View notes

nekokoaa · 4 years

Text

Soft (Part 2 to Stare) - Bakugo x Reader

Soft

Character: Bakugo Katsuki

Word Count: 8K

This took me a while to write and I don’t know why lol this was for celebrating reaching 1700 followers but now we’re at 2500 FOLLOWERS (!!!), so I present to you guys part two to Stare. Stare is one of my proudest works and also is my most popular. I’m not expecting Soft to live up to the same popularity as Stare but I had a lot of fun writing this and that’s all that matters! XD

For Soft, this is Bakugo’s first date, first crush and I really wanted to show the inner turmoil within him. It’s not as simple for him to accept that he has a crush (he can’t even fully believe that you like him lol), he finds it distracting and unnecessary, but he can’t help how he feels. It’s going to feel like he’s going back and forth. One minute he likes you, the next he’s distant and it’s all necessary for him to grow. This is just a little incite of what I was thinking as I was writing this.

Thank you guys so much for this! I love all of you guys!!!

Please read Stare first before reading this!! >>>>>>Stare<<<<<<

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

You, with the voice of an angel, the beauty of the stars, and a smile like the sun. It was as if you were Aphrodite herself. It left him obsessed and wanting more.

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

Bakugo woke up that morning with the sun in his face and his mother’s deafening voice piercing the walls of his room. She was screaming something about breakfast but as usual, everything was muffled when his mind was full of you.

He thought of the events of yesterday as if it were a dream. Your forever bright smile that actually shined on him, your cheeks a soft red hue when you asked him out, and your dainty wrist in his large hand felt as soft as the cushions on his bed that propped his head up as he stared at his white ceiling above his head. Rays of light were piercing through the thin curtains of his window. Like freckles, spots of light glowed upon his cheeks and if it wasn’t for his date today, he would’ve remained in bed and soaked up all the warmth the sun had to offer. Sometimes he wondered if this was how you would feel if you were next to him.

With the sun upon his skin, he could almost imagine you beside him, glowing in presence and sparkling like a soaring comet. You tore through the darkest blankets of his skies, igniting it with a warmth he never thought he would ever feel before. And then you would stroke his arm, sending a wave of excitement to his nerves, your mouth would slowly widen into a smile and it was like he was watching the sun peek from the horizon to welcome a new day. It would look as if you were laughing for no apparent reason and your legs would begin to tangle with his just as Bakugo’s stomach would flip. You would look glorious in the light like you were in your natural element, the way how your skin shimmered with the sun left Bakugo speechless. All he wanted to do was just trap you within his arms and never let you go.

“Katsuki!” And in an instant, you were gone from his mind. You disappeared from his side and what was left was sparkles parading upon his bed as a figment of his imagination. His mother’s voice sounded once again, threatening to come up to his room and pull him out of bed. Bakugo could tell his mother was standing on the foot of the staircase because of how loud she sounded, she probably had with one slipper on the first step and a spatula in her hand, waving frantically in the air. Her eyes were probably sharp through blond furrowed brows, so pointy that anyone who meet her gaze would instantly combust into cuts.

“Alright! Alright!” Bakugo yelled back before sucking his teeth. He had to get up anyway. If he remembered correctly, he was picking you up at twelve. So, he had about two hours to get ready.

…

Before his mother could physically drag him to the table for breakfast, Bakugo was able to finish his morning duties and also get dressed for his date. When he stepped into his dining room, a neatly traditional Japanese breakfast was upon it. And he was glad to see one of his favorites, Tamagoyaki, as a part of the dishes. He liked them spicy, as strange as that was. But not only did he step into today’s breakfast, but also the bewildered stares of his parents. Their widened eyes followed their son until he entered the kitchen and returned on him when he emerged with a carton of orange juice. They weren’t particularly looking at his face but rather his clothes that seemed all too new and never before worn. Bakugo had dug into the deepest part of his closet for them. Black and orange were Bakugo’s favorite colors and his clothes consisted of them although it was mostly black. He was sporting a black shirt with a graphic symbol of a skull spewing fire out of its eyes and mouth. Straight cut black pants that hugged his legs and hips, giving the illusion that his legs were long, and his bomber jacket was black with orange stripes running down his shoulders and arms.

Clearly, Bakugo’s parents never seen their son dress so well on a Saturday morning even if he was going to hang out with Kirishima.

“A-Are you going out today, Katsuki?” His father, Masaru, was the first to ask when Bakugo sat at the table. He grabbed his chopsticks, contemplating on whether to answer his father’s question truthfully or not. He hadn’t mention to his parents about his date today or about you. And he wasn’t sure if he wanted to let them know.

“Yeah I am,” he grumbled, sticking a piece of tamagoyaki in his mouth.

“With Kirishima?” His mother, Mitsuki, decided to dig more information out of her son. She placed a cup of coffee down for her husband before sitting and he quietly thanked her and hummed softly when he took a sip. Bakugo lifted his eyes from his plate to look at his mother who stared at him and eagerly waited for his answer.

“Nah,” he hoped they would leave it at that, but he knew his mother liked to pry herself in his business.

“Oh, then who?” She had a small smile on her face when she ate a piece of tamagoyaki. She also liked them spicy. Masaru avoided them.

Bakugo groaned and he let out a heavy sigh that seemed to knock Mitsuki’s smile right out of her face. Before she had a chance to open her mouth and complain about his attitude, Bakugo answered quickly.

“It’s ____. I’m going out with ____.”

His parents seemed to freeze as soon as your name left their son’s lips. They looked to one another and then back at him, their eyes as wide as it could be with their mouths slightly apart. Mitsuki’s surprised expression soon turned into one of anger and she abruptly stood up, reached over the table and pulled his cheek.

“Why didn’t you tell us you had a date today!? Look how dirty your face is! Do you want her to run away?!”

“W-What is wrong with you, ya old hag!?”

“Don’t speak to me that way!”

“G-Guys…” stammered Masaru, but the two carried on with their shouting match.

“Did you take a shower?! Brush your teeth?!”

“Course, I did!”

…

“Hey brat,” Bakugo finished tying his laces to his sneakers when Mitsuki approached him at the front door. She was calmer than just a few moments ago. In fact, she looked quite serious. Bakugo didn’t really think much of it. He stood up from the ground and buried his hands within his pockets, his body, hunched, and slightly facing away from her because he expected to hear a lecture from her mouth. But instead, she thrusted two small pieces of paper, tickets, into his chest that he caught before they fell to the floor.

“Here, if she likes you even more after today then take her to this,” Bakugo glanced at the tickets, and he made a small grunt before he stuffed them in his pockets.

“Sure,” he muttered and was about to leave before Mitsuki stopped him by the shoulder. She looked into his eyes that were identical to hers and a soft, yet confident smile came to her.

“Show her a good time, Katsuki,” she said, and they shared a moment of silence, looking at one another from mother to son. Bakugo nodded and he left his house and turned the corner on route to your house.

…

Every step closer to your house had the butterflies fluttering wildly within his stomach and chest. His hands became clammy while they were stuffed within his jacket’s pockets and he started to fiddle with the tickets that sat within them. He wasn’t sure what to expect from this date. Hell, he was even shocked that you agreed to it. All this time he thought that you were afraid of him, but your distance really meant that you shared the same feelings as him. Bakugo couldn’t believe it.

Even as he approached your doorstep with potential words and different scenarios flooding his mind, he still felt as if he were in a dream, lightheaded, while walking through a set of clouds. Is this really how it felt when you like someone? Like the urge to see them again as soon as you seperate seized every sensible piece of your rationality? Or the image of your beloved would play within your mind like a song upon repeat, the melody of their laugh would crescendo into the most beautiful of smiles.

Bakugo sighed and ran a hand through his hair. With that same hand, he rang your doorbell, fidgeting slightly as he waited for someone, hopefully you, to come to the door. It was about a few seconds until finally the door opened and you peeked your head from behind it.

“H-Hi, Bakugo,” you greeted him with a nervous smile and fully stepped out from behind the door. Bakugo blinked once he saw what you were wearing, his jaw slightly dropped as he scanned you over. He looked over you only once—no twice—fuck—a third time. Shit, you were beautiful. “You’re here.”

He froze in place at the sight of you. Your clothes were simple, yet it accentuated your shape. How could you look so gorgeous with a pair of jean shorts and a white buttoned top with lace as its short sleeves. You were a pure angel, a complete contrast to his devilish appearance and here he was, already tainting you by being in your presence. Were you wearing make up? It was light. Bakugo could tell your blemishes had vanished and your lips were a nude to your skin tone. He was fine with or without, it made no difference to your beauty to him.

“Hey,” was all he managed to say in his stupor. Your smile widened, and you called something out within your house before you locked your door.

…

The walk to the arcade was a silent one. Bakugo didn’t have the courage to talk. He wasn’t the most talkative person, he only spoke when it was important and when he did, it was usually at the top of his lungs. But being on this date, he had no reason to raise the volume and he also didn’t know as much about you other than the small habits you tend to do. Because of this, he came to question his reason for liking you. He questioned if it was his teenage urges acting as a dictator to his rationality. Maybe it truly was because he was attractive to your looks.

He glanced at you and he caught you staring at him. You jumped when your eyes met and looked away, a blush blossoming on your cheeks like you were caught doing something shameful. Bakugo found himself doing the same thing as he didn’t expect your eyes would be on him. ‘This is stupid!’ He shouted in his head. A simple stare had reduced him to a coward—a puddle on the side of the road for no one to step in but you. He couldn’t believe how much he was wrapped around your finger, if only you had known, you would’ve used it to your advantage if you had the courage.

Warmed cheeks and sealed lips carried on until you had reached the arcade. The arcade was bustling with teenagers and children with their parents which made sense for a Saturday. Bakugo was buying some tokens at the counter after he aggressively denied your request to pay your share. After all, what kind of a man would he be if he let you pay on the first date? So, you were standing awkwardly to the side, surveying the games while you waited for Bakugo to return. And when he did, he had golden coins in his hand, and a small smirk was on his face when he gestured towards multiple arcade machines with his free hand.

“Alright. Pick which one you want to lose in first,” Bakugo wished he could’ve recorded your face when he said that. You looked so offended that he barked out a laugh after.

“Or how about I give you the honors since you’re so confident?” You raised an eyebrow, a frown on your beautiful lips.

His smirk grew wider. “Are you sure? I don’t wanna make you cry on the first—”

“Just pick!” You pushed him ahead of you and you followed him through the crowds until he stopped in front of an arcade machine. It was on top of a small platform and in front of two screens were two suspended guns. The banner hanging above the machine was the title. Call of Duty, it read. There were already some children playing on it, the guns snuggled to their chests and fingers wrapped around the trigger. They shot at animated Zombies that threw themselves at the screen with their busted mouths bubbling with blood and mucus. The counter on the corner of the screen was skyrocketing into the thousands the more they took down.

“Ever played this?” Bakugo spoke like he was taunting you and turned to face you.

“Of course,” you simply said and folded your arms across your chest and glared at him. You were hoping he wasn’t bringing you to the ‘manliest’ game in the arcade believing you didn’t know how to play because of your gender. You wanted to destroy the confidence in his eyes.

“Ready to lose?” He teased and stepped up on the platform once the children were done. They stuck around to watch with a glimmer of excitement in their eyes. You followed after Bakugo, holding your glare, and taking his hand when he held it out to help you up. You would’ve thanked him if you weren’t too busy mentally preparing to beat his ass.

“What level?”

“Medium. I’ll give you a handicap.”

“Don’t even,” there was a scroll trigger on the gun and you quickly pressed ‘Hard difficulty’. It made him chuckle after he shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the iron rails behind him. He grabbed his gun and went into a stance. His back was slightly hunched with the gun clutched to his body while he pointed it at the screen. Your eyes wandered to his arms. So toned, they were, as he was mindlessly flexing them. Your face grew hot and suddenly started to feel very bashful. You looked away, and when you did, started to notice that the game already began. The score on Bakugo’s screen was climbing and you panicked. You quickly pulled the trigger against the zombies that were coming at you. 500 points for body shots. 2000 points for headshots. You were aiming for headshots.

It was quiet between you two with only the thunderous sounds of rapid fire and the gaggled groans of fallen dead. The rest of the arcade sounds were reduced to background noise. Even the children who watched on with random shouts of excitement at the scores and making funny movements (that only seemed to possess children) were cast away in that same category. Nothing existed except you, Bakugo, and a crowd of zombies.

It was almost as if you assimilated into the game and was one with their universe. You defended the town from them like it was your destiny, like it was what you trained for and you felt the phantom pain on the side of your neck whenever a zombie would slip through and take a bite out of you. Your HP would drop but it didn’t stop you from shooting. You could feel yourself start to shake, your palms grew sweaty, and you started to hyperventilate until you caught yourself from becoming too absorbed in the virtual world. It was honestly the most exhilarating thing you had experienced.

By the time the game ended, you grinned at Bakugo with your hand on your hip and your gun holster up against your shoulder. He looked at you with eyes as wide as it could be and his mouth so open it would’ve fell upon the floor. The children’s faces mirrored his in disbelief at your score. 51,500 points for you and 18,500 points for Bakugo.

You: 1

Bakugo: 0

…

Bakugo couldn’t believe you beat him at Call of Duty. He used to play Zombies with Kirishima and the boys at home and he would always be the last person standing to finish up the round. His boys cheered for him for saving the round every time and he would feel so proud of himself for doing so. He was confident in his skills, which made him confident in beating you. But he was clearly outmatched and when he questioned your skills, you smiled and said that this was your go-to game in arcades. He set himself up for failure right from the start.

“Alright! You’re good, I’ll give you that,” he grumbled those last words. “But the next one is mine!”

“Sure, and since you lost, I’ll give you the honors to pick again,” you stressed out the word ‘lost’ and it made Bakugo grimace. You laughed, and that grimace quickly turned into his stomach doing flips. You had him on an invisible leash that you didn’t know about. His body already conditioned to react to anything he found cute or beautiful about you. It was ridiculous, he thought.

“Whatever,” Bakugo dug his hands in his pockets. He didn’t mean to make himself sound like a sore loser and he didn’t like the frown that appeared on your face after. But he was tied between the feeling of accepting defeat and accepting his feelings for you. It was scary having a crush. He could feel himself changing and doing things he wouldn’t normally do. Instead of having fun at the arcade, he could’ve been training his body or quirk. He didn’t have time to waste if he wanted to be number one hero and that meant these feelings for you had to go. All Might didn’t get to where he was by being focused on girls.

“Bakugo,” he felt a gentle touch on his arm and it pulled him away from his thoughts. He glanced at you and you were looking at him. It was the second time he seen you so worried, the last time was after karaoke and he had yet to find out what made you worried. Was it him? You were a normally happy person, like an airhead almost. You tried to look at things on the bright side even in the darkest of situations. It was similar to Deku who always annoyed Bakugo with his optimism but when it came to you, he didn’t seem to mind. “I didn’t mean to tease you like that. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t deserve your apology. You weren’t to blame, yet he pulled his arm out of your grip and the small gasp that sounded from you pained his heart. “I found the next game,” Bakugo stated without looking at you and walked ahead. You lingered in the same spot for a moment before you quickly joined him.

…

The next game Bakugo picked was Basketball hoops which you were a little surprised about. There were two baskets and it was being separated by a tall metal gate that also caged around it to prevent the balls from flying out. Bakugo stood in front of it and pulled a miniature basketball out of the pile. He was already adding the tokens in before he turned towards you.

“Ever played this one?” He threw the basketball towards you and it nearly slipped from your hands when you caught it.

“Not exactly,” you smiled nervously.

“It’s simple. You just throw the ball into the hoop and you gain points. Person with the most points at the end wins.”

“Sounds simple.” You snorted, words melting in sarcasm as you watched Bakugo spin the ball with the tips of his fingers before trapping it within them once again. He was oddly an expert at it, but you decided not to ask about his experience. The game counted down from ten and Bakugo positioned the ball slightly over his head with his elbows tucked in. You tried to mimic Bakugo’s stance as not to reveal that you had no idea what you were doing. A short beep sounded the start of the game and Bakugo rolled his hand the ball was tucked in and it shot into the air in a perfect arch before it swished into the basket. It bumped against the gate before falling back within the pile of its brothers. And soon you continuously heard the sound of swooshing as he consecutively made the shot every time.

You panicked once again. This time with no confidence that you could catch up to Bakugo’s points. You shot the ball towards the basket, inelegantly when compared to Bakugo’s form. Your elbow was out, and you thrusted your entire arm forward rather than shooting with your wrist. The ball slammed against the gate, making it jingle as it fell straight into the pile. You didn’t have time to think about your form. You started flinging balls in the air and prayed that one of them make it. Instead, they bounced against the iron rim with knotted rope. Some were fortunate not to suffer the blow of the iron rim and just fell directly back into their pile. The less unfortunate ones bounced back in retaliation towards your head, missing you completely and left to stray the arcade floors alone.

Bakugo’s points were climbing. It was unreachable now, so you abandoned the goal of winning to ending the game with at least a point. The swift swooshes of the basket whipped through the air and it was attracting a small crowd of children and curious adults around Bakugo. It was almost inhuman how he was scoring, and he had yet to miss.

“Amazing!” You heard a girl behind you say and you were damn well sure it wasn’t towards you.

It wasn’t that you gave up, but you kept the basketball in your hands and looked to your left at Bakugo. Your eyes had fallen on his face, his eyes and lips relaxed, almost serene-like. You wouldn’t say he looked one in his element, but he was definitely comfortable with what he was doing.

The beeps that signified the end of the game sounded from the machines and Bakugo’s score was a whopping 500 points, 10 points for every basket made. Your score was a disgrace. You didn’t even count it as a score because you didn’t make any. You weren’t on the board as embarrassing as you had to admit, but basketball just wasn’t your best sport.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” You felt the need to ask, not in disbelief of his skills but in curiosity.

“I have a hoop in my room,” he replied. He didn’t want to let you know that he uses it when he needed to calm down. Usually after an argument with his mother, he would fling balls relentlessly at his hoop in frustration. His father had gifted it to him when he found out about his habit of blowing up small holes in the walls of his bedroom when he was heated. It helped significantly to control his anger and he even found himself shooting hoops whenever he was bored.

“Would you—Idon’tknow—maybe, teach me next time? Maybe?” Next time? What made you so confident that there was going to be a next time? In fact, you weren’t. You were testing out the waters, shooting hints at Bakugo to see if he was even interested in another date after today or even if he just wanted to hang out. You closed into yourself when you asked, your posture curved forward as if to hide yourself from him. You bit the bottom of your lip and couldn’t stop your cheeks from warming up. You were trying to be as bold as you could, as confident as you imagined yourself to be when you fantasize about this date last night. It was easier to dream that you were a confident, strong girl who knew what she wanted in this world and faced issues head on and didn’t get flustered by the mysterious feelings of a crush. But you knew the world in your head was a vast utopia, a world filled with desires that didn’t seem tangible in reality. Still, you urged yourself to try, because trying was a step closer to tangibility.

“Maybe,” he shrugged.

You: 1

Bakugo: 1

…

Bakugo wasn’t prepared for your question. He was still deciding whether to give in to his emotions or not and that sheepish expression on your face didn’t make it any easier. He was convinced it coerced him into responding in agreement to another date. He didn’t have the heart to deny that face or perhaps his heart didn’t want to.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets in habit, looking away when he did, his voice was so small that he nearly couldn’t hear it over the sounds of the blaring game machines in the vicinity. At first glance, anyone would believe he was upset but if they peered into his face, they would spot the flushed skin of his cheeks and nose and possibly his ears. He was hiding his feelings within, though, even if he was lying to himself, his body revealed all truths.

…

The last game would decide it all and you were ready. Because you gave Bakugo the right to pick twice, it was up to you to pick the final game. You guided Bakugo to the corner of the arcade, it was away from the valley of machines but not too far where you couldn’t hear them. The games at this corner were more traditional; darts, board games, air hockey, any game that didn’t need to be attached to a machine to work was there, including table tennis which was where you were pulling him towards. You wouldn’t say you were an expert at table tennis, but it was a sport you were decent in. Bakugo already had good hand-to-eye coordination so you knew this choice would make it a fair final game.

“Final game. You sure about this?” It was like the mellow Bakugo had retreated, and the bold and brash one came loose. The grin returned as it split across his face in a crooked slant from cheek to cheek. He looked the best when he was smirking, his eyes narrowed slightly with a glint of mischief—almost like it was melting with sin.

“Wouldn’t you want to end this with something fun?” You returned his smile with a question, but it looked more innocent than his. You were starting to notice the vast differences between you and Bakugo, not only in style but even in personality. It was odd that you two were attracted to each other. You didn’t believe in the saying, ‘opposites attract’, but you had to admit there was some truth behind it.

“Look, I just hope you’re ready to sing for me again.”

Again? “I’m surprised you haven’t learned from last time about being too cocky.”

“Only thing I learned is to not go easy on you.”

Your eyes rolled. “Oh please, do not pull that crap on me now. I won fair and square. And what do you mean ‘Again’? What made you think I was singing for you the first time?”

You had expected to hear another one of Bakugo’s boastful remarks, but you were delighted by his smile instead. It was far from a soft one and was closely associated with the last one that held mischief. It was a smile that knew the ups and downs and ins and outs of your mind without barely even knowing you. How was that possible? You didn’t know. But you did know Bakugo had a very perceptive character even if his brass personality didn’t make him seem so.

If only you also knew he was bluffing, then you wouldn’t have blushed the way you did, confirming his suspicions about how you acted during karaoke. It was nice for him to know that those stolen glances at him weren’t all for show.

…

You didn’t realize how intense table tennis was. You knew where it derived from held some tension during its matches. Watching the US Opens, French Opens, and other major tennis tournaments with your family often had you near the edge of your seat. You would see the crowds snapping their heads from right to left at the speed of the ball before erupting into cheers once the ball fell out. Your father would jump out of his seat, a fist wringing in the air, as a point was added to the score of his favorite player and the umpire would call to settle down the crowd, but the excitement erupted to where silence couldn’t be an option. But soon, the crowd knew the match wouldn’t continue unless they settled, and they hushed each other until all that sounded was the ball bouncing to and from the green synthetic surface and into the player’s hand. This memory, you recalled, was like you were reliving it except you and Bakugo were the players with the onlookers being the patrons of the arcade.

The sound around you were muffled against your eardrums, nothing but the base of your heart resounding in rhythmic beats and the tennis ball slamming against your paddle, releasing a loud ‘pock!’ before bouncing back onto the table court and into Bakugo’s side. He moved like lightning, the arm of his muscles tensing at the exact moment the ball touched his paddle. A grunt had left him as he returned the ball onto your side and a thunderous sound erupted from the impact. You returned it just as swiftly.

It was match point for Bakugo and you could tell he was swinging harder, faster. He wanted to end this game as desperate as you wanted it to continue.

“Shit!” He hissed when you returned the ball and it hit the table in an odd angle but managed to fly past his paddle. You evened out the score and it was your turn to serve. Two more scores and you would be the winner, but you knew Bakugo wasn’t going to make it easy for you.

The first ball you served hit the table and managed to slip past him. Or was he?

Bakugo chuckled darkly, one that rattled your core when it reached your ears. You allowed it to frazzle you and your next serve was easily deflected and the ball zoomed past you, evening the score yet again.

“I’m not going down that fucking easy,” he declared, and you wordlessly picked up another ball to serve.

The score went from even to either you or Bakugo having the advantage to even again. It continued for as many times until you had lost count. The tension grew to unbearable heights, the patrons were ‘ooo-ing’ and ‘ahh-ing’, some urging for your win and others for Bakugo’s, but you didn’t let their cheers distract you and neither did he. A faint sweetness lingered in the vicinity and it could only be coming from the sweat that shined Bakugo’s skin. An aroma that reminded you of being in the training room and whenever it was Bakugo’s turn to spar, your nose would be blessed by that scent while the others, specifically the boys would secretly tease him for it, too afraid to openly do it unless they wanted to face his wrath.

The ball flew from your side to Bakugo’s side repeatedly and it was about a minute until the ball zipped past you and Bakugo yelled in victory as well as his fans.

“One more fucking point!” He roared and raised his racket in the air, confidence spewing from his body language like he already won. All you did was glare at him, ignoring the reassurance from your encouragers but you didn’t understand why they treated you like you lost when clearly the game was still on. They were underestimating you, them and Bakugo, and you knew you had to prove them wrong. You tightened the ball in your hands and licked the sweat off your lips. Bakugo had a terrifying smirk on his face when he went into his stance, gripping his racket until the veins in his arms started pulsating.

You served the ball and hit it with all your might.

…

Bakugo had been wondering what brought him back to sitting on the couches in one of the karaoke venues again. A much smaller room than the one he was in on that day he went with the class, it still held in resemblance, though, the atmosphere of it was nearly suffocating. He was without his boys, without a distraction from you, the beautiful girl who was scrolling through the list of songs with a remote, humming softly when lingered on a title before continuing on. Another glance around the room had him questioning his reason for being here. Hadn’t he lost? Clearly, you weren’t going to reward him for losing, right? Although, he had paid for a 30-minute rental for a venue, so he suppose that was his punishment. It nearly put a dent in his wallet.

“So, you’re gonna sing for me anyway.” Whether it was a question or a statement, you still flashed a smile at him when you stopped at the title you were searching for. It was startling how just a simple curve of your lips could make his heart stop, his breath hitch, and make him all want to drop what he was doing just to feel them slobbering over his. He was a fool, a fool desperately yearning for the girl sitting right beside him, your leg barely brushing his and sending his mind in a flurry of emotions.

Fuck. Get a hold of yourself. He rehashed in his head repeatedly. It didn’t help that the only other presence in the room was you.

“No,” you drawled, reaching to swipe two microphones from the table in front of you. “I want you to sing with me.”

“Hell no,” he abruptly said, pushing the microphone away when you pressed it against his lap. “I don’t fucking sing.”

“A bet is a bet,” you reminded him, and he let out a groan, “besides you’re not really singing. You’re, like, slow rapping.”

“Are you stupid? And what the fuck is slow rapping anyway?”

“I don’t know I made it up. It’s like rapping but it’s slow!” You giggled, and like a reflex, his stomach flipped. You still tossed the microphone at him and as reluctant as he was, he followed you when you pulled him by the arm to stand up, not allowing himself to be drag because he held too much pride within himself to be dragged by the likes of anyone. You had missed his grumble when he confirmed your stupidity, and when you had questioned him with a hum, he remained silent, gripping the microphone in hand to relay his frustrations upon it.

He found himself standing in the middle of the room facing the tv while you were in front of him, gleaming up at him with a smile as the television’s light splashed against your back. Once again, you didn’t seem to need the lyrics because when you started the song, you remained facing him, tossing the remote where you were sitting and bringing the microphone close to your lips. He felt jealousy creeping behind his shoulder at the inanimate object (that held no soul) that had the privilege of touching what he desired. He wondered adamantly how foolish his feelings were going to make him?

The song had started with the melody of a distorted accordion mixed with electronic sound effects that these popular pop music writers loved to add in their tracks. Bakugo was a stranger to this kind of music as his go-to-genre was rock, metal, and sometimes even rap so when you were swaying side to side at the peppy beat that swirled itself into the existing melody, he could only watch as he waited for your voice.

“I'm a motherfuckin' train wreck. I don't wanna be too much,” and there it was, hitting him like a smooth wave slamming into the rocky side of a mountain, carrying his previous frustration into the endless ocean to never resurface again. Once your voice had reached his eardrums, it had placed him under your spell, one he wished would never break as chills walked his skin like they scavenged for mysteries of their birth. Velvet melted from your mouth, sweetness formed into honey and kissed your voice box, blessing it with the gift to open heaven’s gate with a single note.

“But I don't wanna miss your touch. And you don't seem to give a fuck,” his lips had adversely failed him when he fought to keep them from upturning into a smirk, more specifically at the arousing feeling of you cursing. The chills continued to pry around his back and shoulders and the upper part of his arm where you had gently caressed him for a moment, eyes moving to hold his benevolent stare that he blissfully wasn’t aware he was making.

When the beat of the song picked up and greeted the chorus, you had pulled away from him, turning around until your back faced him, your eyes still on him with your head turned to look behind you, a playful smile curling on your lips. Without doubt, a fire was lit from within him.

“You ain't my boyfriend. And I ain't your girlfriend. But you don't want me to see nobody else. And I don't want you to see nobody,” you bounced your body with the beat, the voice of the original singer echoing the last words of the lyrics or otherwise singing with you. You meant to stroll back to Bakugo once you turned around, but he already closed the distance between you two, eyes somewhat wide and searching within yours for any meaning between those lyrics to be true. “But you ain't my boyfriend. And I ain't your girlfriend. But you don't want me to touch nobody else. Baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody…”

The search for the truth in your eyes nearly made Bakugo miss his line. He started out shaky, startled at how fast it came when the screen prompted for the second singer to start. It oddly reminded him of Deku when he pitifully struggled to sing with Uraraka, so he quickly found his rhythm to avoid the same embarrassment, his singing, that was mostly him talking but elongating his words, sonorous in pitch yet rough at the edges.

“I…I promise the way we fight make me honestly feel like we just in lo—the fuck are these lyrics?” He abruptly growled, his voice caught between ire and mortification when he read the sappy lines that made you blush. You squeezed his arm to urge him to continue, already missing a few lines with how fast the song was going. It wasn’t like he had a choice, he sucked his teeth before bitterly singing through gritted teeth. “I lose my mind when it comes to you. I take time with the ones I choose. And I don't want to smile if it ain't from you, yeah.”

Your voice returned for the chorus soon after his part was done, and he never felt so relieved to hear your voice. He didn’t have a clue how you were so comfortable singing, yet it was hard for you to speak in class whenever you were answering a question. You were bold, daring, confidence spelled within your eyes and shyness was nothing more than a distant relative. You let the music guide you, boldness encouraging you to guide Bakugo’s unoccupied hand to your waist as you danced, his touch barely even felt through your clothes as fear had struck him. Even with consent, he questioned within himself if this was okay. Though, the ghostly feel of the arch of your waist to your hips under his palm had abolished all uncertainty. He was a teenage boy, after all.

He was careful not to move his hand anywhere you didn’t place it but even that was hard whenever you would move your body to the song, sometimes his hand would fall lower towards your hip and he would quickly return it to your waist, so he wouldn’t lose the privilege of touching you.

But when you moved closer to his body until your shirts were caressing, your bright eyes inhabited a world in which he wanted to be a part of, his fingers curled slightly into the newly founded lace sewed into the sides of your shirt, a detail he missed earlier when he was stunned by your beauty. His grip on his microphone went loose against his fingertips and threaten to fall, his face was so close to yours and if it weren’t for the microphone against your lips, Bakugo would’ve closed the gap between you urged by the yearn he felt to touch them.

The two of you were now sharing one microphone, eyes locked onto each other’s, unwavering as they embodied the passion of want.

“If you were my boyfriend…” You sang softly, your vocals sweet and heavy.

“And you were my girlfriend…” Bakugo spoke, his voice harboring that same softness of yours which was foreign to him. He was no longer able to sing, and the song carried on with no vocals as you too were rendered speechless by how thick with warmth his words sounded. There was no indication that the two of you were going to continue the song nor did you encourage him to. The melody was left as background noise as you became trapped in Bakugo’s gaze. How they fidgeted about on your face, taking in your irises, the shape of your nose, the blemishes upon your cheeks and your forehead, the shape of your cheekbones, your chin, and lastly your lips. Gradually, they were moving closer to Bakugo’s just as the microphone was slipping away from between.

If only it wasn’t for the raging scream of Bakugo’s phone trapped within the constraints of his jacket’s pocket, he would’ve already felt the soft press of your lips against his. He had never turned so fast, so dramatically before in his life. He was already digging through his pocket, fingers already mindlessly tapping at the screen once he pulled his phone out and you swore his hands were going to ignite into an explosive if it weren’t translated into the roar that came out of his mouth.

“What!” The person on the other end was no other than his mother who was informing him about coming home at a respectable time. The rage he used to answer his phone was hammered back at him with that same force. You could hear his mother’s screech that certainly reminded you of Bakugo’s, just more feminine.

The heated moment between you two ended with Bakugo screaming into his phone with a colorful combination of profanities you have never even thought of and you were surprised that his mother was worse in her usage of language, even threatening to ‘come down over there’ if he didn’t show some respect.

…

“Bakugo, this was fun, thanks for coming with me,” You smiled softly to the short grunt that came from Bakugo after. He was walking slightly ahead of you, hands in his pockets like usual with his head slightly down. He was wearing his black earphones but only his ear that was away from you had them in while the other earbud hung loosely near his chest. He hasn’t been able to look at you since you two left the karaoke booth and he thought himself a fool that he couldn’t stare at you for more than two seconds without feeling embarrassed about what had happened. Bakugo handled embarrassment the same exact way he handled every emotion that didn’t fit his tough exterior, it fuel his anger and he turned into a grumpy mess, silent yet aching to explode if someone were to speak to him. Though he could never do that to you. No matter how much his anger seemed to tip over, he couldn’t imagine you being at the end of it.

The walk back to your house was as silent as the walk to the arcade. Bakugo wasn’t really sure what to say, whether to question you about what had happened before that untimely interruption or just leave it up in the air. Did you actually like him…? Like how he liked you? Or was he imagining everything, misreading the signs like an idiot hoping the girl he liked actually liked him back? You were a nice girl without a doubt. Bakugo could see that every time he would watch you train with the girls or when you would give up the last dessert to Mina during lunch time or when you would feed the stray cat at the back of the school or when you would always, always greet him with a smile in the mornings if you were to cross paths with him and then Bakugo would think he was special until you would do the same for Deku shortly after. You were a nice girl indeed so for all he knew, you could’ve been hanging out with him out of the kindness of your heart, giving him all this attention because you were too nice to say no to a date. Then again, it didn’t explain what happened in the booth because that was all you and you were—dare he say it—flirting.

Bakugo stopped walking, turning halfway to look at you. You blinked, wondering why he stopped and was now staring at you, mouth slightly open like he wanted to say something.

“Something on your mind?” You asked him, cocking your head to the side slightly, but he simply stayed staring for what felt like an eternity and it made your cheeks burn.

When Bakugo realized he was just repeating the question he wanted to ask in his head without saying it was when he swiftly turned his back to you and continued to walk. “…Just hurry up… it’s getting dark,” but it was only around 4pm and Bakugo didn’t know that it was capable for him to feel so stupid, first, losing his ability to speak as soon as he looked at you and second, instantly regretting his words as the sun was still wide awake in the skies.

But I don’t want this to end, was what you wanted to say but you found your words stuck in your throat, afraid that Bakugo might not feel the same as you.

“Um… thank you for walking me home. Today was really fun,” you said when you reached your front door and turned to Bakugo. You told him that repeatedly throughout the walk, you really had no other way to express how happy you were. You felt that a hug would’ve been too uncomfortable for him as you’ve never seen Bakugo express any affection physically. “I kind of wish it didn’t end…”

“Ah—well, you know, time.” What the fuck was he saying? He growled under his breath, frustrated that not only was he losing his thoughts to you but his language.

Oddly enough to him, you understood and chuckled. Fuck the butterflies in his stomach. “I know. There’s just not enough of it… I guess I’ll see you Monday, then?”

“Yeah,” you waited for him to leave but he stayed staring at your face. Perhaps even longer than he did before, and you saw him aggressively move his hand within his pocket like he was fumbling with something. He spoke your name softly because he thought he had lost your attention, but he in fact had it because he was all you could focus on the entirety of the date. “You had fun, right?” He knew you had said it multiple times, but he wanted to ask because he couldn’t believe it himself.

“Yeah, of course, it was the best Saturday I had in a while,” Bakugo felt like you had to have been lying but that wide smile held all the truth in the world.

“Then—this,” Bakugo pulled a small piece of paper out of his pocket and gave it to you. “You wanna go with me next Saturday?”

You took a good look at what he gave you, nearly dropping it when you read out the words. “Di-Disneyland?! I—yes! Yes, I wanna go with you!” you clutched your ticket to your chest. Desperate to calm your beating heart, you wanted to fan your heated cheeks but instead you tucked the loose strands of your hair behind your ear, realizing that Bakugo could very well be asking you out on another date. “A-As another date…?”

“Sure.” He grumbled, looking away from you for a moment and returning his hands to his pockets. “Then Saturday, I’ll text you the details.”

You nodded frantically at him with one of those large smiles he loved, and he said his goodbye and left your doorstep. You glanced at the ticket in your hands and jumped excitedly on the balls of your feet. It was hard to believe that Bakugo invited you to Disneyland. You didn’t think he was interested in that kind of stuff but there was a little part of you that wanted to believe he was going just for you. Oh, you so wanted to be right!

Before you knew it, you heard a call of your name and Bakugo was already back in front of you. He quickly leaned forward, and it felt as fast as it came. You saw a glimpse of his red cheeks hidden behind a frown and furrowed brows. “For today. See you Monday,” he quickly said before he turned around and left, leaving you stunned on your doorstep. Of all the things that happened today, the least thing you expected was Bakugo Katsuki kissing you on your cheek.

Bakugo stormed out of there as fast as he could, fingers touching his lips as he realized what he had done. He just acted. He felt like he couldn’t leave without doing something to finish off this day but—Bakugo groaned loudly, throwing his hands up in frustration—he didn’t even stay to see your reaction if you liked it or not. What if he arrives home and you text him to cancel the date because you felt uncomfortable about what he did? He was stupid, utterly stupid! He should’ve read the mood instead of acting on his urges.

He continued to berate himself in his head until he finally convinced himself that you liked it because who wouldn’t like a kiss from him especially since he was taking you to Disneyland.

Later that night when he was lounging on his bed, you texted him to once again thank him for today and that you looked forward to Saturday. Bakugo grinned to himself and replied ‘same’ before shutting his phone and closing his eyes. He thought he would be able to put his thoughts about you to rest but he couldn’t help but try to relive the events of today. Especially the feeling of your cheek against his lips.

As he expected, your cheeks were the softest thing he ever felt. The last thing he recalled was hoping to sleep and suddenly wake up to it being next Saturday.

Part three - Slumber - coming soon!

#bnha #bnha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha #katsuki bakugou #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #fanfiction #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios

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beware-of-you-98 · 4 years

Text

henry’s dragon (jj x emily)

there’s a lot of reptile talk and i’m only slightly sorry about it

It's not that they hadn't been expecting the question; after all, a pet had been on his most recent wish-list to Santa Claus. It wasn't that they didn't think Henry was irresponsible: he got fantastic grades in school, kept up with his sports and helped out enough around the house. He was even the one that took up most of the chores when it came to Sergio (he insisted). Really, there was no doubt in their minds that their son wouldn't take responsibility in taking care of another animal.

But it was too soon, and neither Emily or JJ wanted to start a habit of buying an animal on such short notice without instilling some kind of boundaries.

First and foremost, since everyone at the house had busy schedules, the new pet couldn't be something that require attention 24/7.

No mammals or birds—nothing that would be affected by significant spending some time alone.

Since the boys time was split between two houses, the animal had to be something that either JJ or Emily could easily take care of in Henry's absence.

No spiders or bugs and it had to fit in an enclosure that they capped off at 50 gallons—hey, they had to draw the line somewhere.

After months and months of researching, Henry finally decided between either a corn snake (only if it was on frozen thawed mice), a crested gecko, or a leopard gecko. Last week for his eleventh birthday, JJ and Emily had surprised him with a twenty gallon tank that would house either animal of his choice quite comfortably for a while and several necessities like a heating pad and a basking light and bulb.

To top everything off, Spencer and Penelope had surprised the boy with tickets to a reptile show that was taking place the following weekend so he could go and pick out his new pet.

(Whatever Henry decided to get, he could also get the appropriate hides, water bowls and supplements with the money his grandparents had given him.

Emily and JJ collectively agreed to pay for the animal as an additional birthday gift.)

They had both been immediately thrown out of their element when they walked into the convention center lobby and found people crowded around the hundreds upon hundreds of tables full of different animals.

"Look, momma, a dinosaur!"

Emily peers up briefly to follow the direction Michael is pointing in with a fond grin, an amused chuckle escaping her mouth as her gaze lands on the clear acrylic tank with a colorful lizard basking under a heat lamp. The blue sharpie on the tank advertises the species in quick-scrawled handwriting: "Uromastyx". Right below the name lists the price in smaller, more legible numbers: "$225".

She hums, giving Michael's ankles a gentle squeeze as she adjusts her hold to keep him from toppling off her shoulders or over her head. The lizard's face can really only be described as dinosaur like, face round and snout short and stubby with tiny black eyes that reflect the light from the bulb above. The animal's scales are mostly bright blue and green, bright yellow and orange spots stamped down the spine, visually leading to a long tail covered in stubbed spikes.

"It does look like a dinosaur, doesn't it?" she agrees with another chuckle, turning her head and resting her hand on Henry's shoulder when he comes bounding up to join them at the table, JJ not too far behind. "What do you think, Hen? You want to adopt a dinosaur?"

Henry pushes his glasses up his nose, eyes lighting up in excitement as he catches a glimpse of the lizard. "An ornate Uromastyx, cool!" he exclaims before turning back towards his mothers. "Did you know they have basking spots of up to 135°?"

A brief pause as he thinks, head tilting up to look at the ceiling. He scrunches his nose and giggles when JJ playfully sticks her tongue out at him.

"And they're mostly herbivores!" he adds as soon as he remembers.

JJ gives his shoulder a loving squeeze before glancing over at the tank. "It is a pretty lizard," she admits.

"It's too expensive," Henry shrugs, not too affected by the fact he probably would be leaving without the Uromastyx. "And I didn't research them enough. Besides, he would out grow the tank I have at home and I don't have the right things for him," he reasons.

A young woman working the booth shoots the family a polite smile before walking over. "Hey, there! Can I help you guys with anything?"

"No, thank you," Henry declines politely. "We're just looking!"

"Interested in Uros?" the woman asks Henry in attempts at conversation.

"They're neat!" he nods enthusiastically. "But not really for beginners."

The woman smiles, looking impressed. "From what I overheard, someone did their research." She glances up at Emily and JJ, politely offering her hand. "I'm Courtney," she introduces herself.

"Jennifer," JJ replies, shaking Courtney's hand with her practiced "liaison" smile, grazing her free hand in Henry's hair as she briefly introduces him, "Henry," before resting it on Emily's side. "My wife, Emily, and Michael."

"Hi," is Michael's shy greeting, lifting his hand before resting his chin on top of Emily's head as the brunette shakes Courtney's hand.

"Pleasure meeting you. First time here?" Courtney guesses with a knowing smile.

"Uh-huh!" Henry nods.

"Neither of us never been to one of these before," JJ explains. "We're not really sure where we're going."

Courtney nods in understanding, reaching under the table and pulling out a small stack of maps with the vendors and tables located on it. "This should help you guys out!"

Emily takes one of the maps, flipping i over and scanning the schedule on the back before giving the woman a grateful smile. "Thank you!"

"Not a problem at all," Courtney assures. "These can get a bit overwhelming the first time around. What are you guys looking for?"

"Geckos!" Henry supplies. "Or corn snakes."

"You'll find plenty of those around here," Courtney smiles at him before leaning in towards the family and muttering softly, "Between you and me, don't buy from that guy." She points to a vendor on the map.

"Bad rap?" JJ assumes.

"Sells sick, over priced animals," Courtney confirms just as softly. "Best vendors for geckos usually sell here..." She points to another space on the map. "And this group right here," She uses her pointer finger to gesture to a few vendors a few tables down. "Sell snakes that only eat frozen thawed, if that's something you're looking for."

JJ lets out a small sigh of relief. "Thank you so much."

Courtney shakes her head and holds up her palms with a warm smile. "Hey, not a problem at all. Just wanted to give you guys a heads up." She hands Henry one of the business cards and a sticker from the table. "You get some more experience with reptiles and ever want to get a Uromastyx, you know where to find us."

"Thank you!"

"You folks enjoy the show!" Courtney waves them away, giving them all warm smiles before heading off down the table to greet another person at the table.

"This place is awesome!" Henry exclaims, spreading out his arms to gesture around the room, eyes shining with glee.

JJ tears her gaze away from a massive Burmese python spotted like a cow, smiling down at the child and nodding in agreement. "It's something else."

"I'll say," Emily murmurs, turning the map in her hands with a small frown, bringing it closer to her face to make sure she's reading correctly. "Hey, Hen, what are "hots"?" She peers down at him, stopping briefly when they come across a table covered in plastic containers sealed shut with red electrical tape. One look at a container holding a white diamond back rattlesnake and she lets out a silent "oh" in realization. "These must be hots."

"Whoa!" Henry gasps in wonder, but stays back where he is. "Cool!"

JJ rests a hand on his shoulder, peering over him at the hundreds of venomous reptiles displayed on the table. A part of her is honestly surprised with how easily someone could come here and purchase some of the deadliest animals on earth. She personally doesn't see the appeal, but hey, to each their own.

"Am I crazy..." Emily leans in towards JJ's face and murmurs. "Or are some of these things kind of adorable?" she continues, discreetly pointing to a container labeled "gaboon viber".

The snake itself is gorgeous, short, stocky body curled over in a "C" shape. Bright orange, yellow and brown diamonds line down the serpent's back. The eyes are positioned almost directly on top of its head, one looking towards the right and the other facing the complete opposite direction. The goofy eyes, along with the chubby cheeks (most likely swollen with the venom glands) and a small horn at the tip of its nose make the snake look like a funny cartoon character.

"No, they're definitely cute," JJ easily agrees, finding another snake in a clear container with black electrical tape. The lid labels the snake inside as a "plains hognose". This snake has the same chubby cheeks as the viper and a little upturned snout, with eyes JJ can really only describe as "puppy like". "In a weird way."

"Moms, can I get a cobra?"

Glaring playfully at Henry, who points to a white monocled cobra with a shit eating grin on his face, JJ smirks, "You most certainly can not get a cobra!"

Emily reaches over and ruffles Henry's hair when he pouts in exaggeration. "Sorry, babe, your mom's the boss." She drops her voice a few octaves, smile light and teasing as she faux whispers, "Between me and you boys, I would have totally been okay with a cobra as long as you cleaned up after it."

JJ gently whacks Emily's side with the back of her hand, grinning when the brunette grabs her hand and links their fingers together. "Don't conspire with the kids to get venomous reptiles behind my back," she chides playfully.

"Busted, boys. No cobras," Emily sighs dramatically, her own smile wide when Michael giggles from above at her. "What a shame, too. I was going to name him Mr Sparkles."

"Mr Sparkles?!" Michael repeats incredulously between giggles.

"Yep, Mr Sparkles," Emily confirms firmly, grinning as they walk down the table and inspect more of the animals. "I was going to buy him a little leather jacket studded in rhinestones and everything."

"You're so weird!" Henry laughs, shaking his head before leaning into Emily, resting against her arm as they move.

"Proudly!" She grins, heart feeling so incredibly full with Henry leaning on her, Michael above on her shoulder and with JJ at her side. It felt right, so simple and so domestic to be like this. It's as if this was where she was meant to be all along. She feels even more content when JJ leans up and presses a soft kiss to her cheek as if to silently confess her own happiness.

It's perfect.

The family steadily makes their way down the rows and row of vendors, stopping every so often when specific animals catch their eye. There's a small vendor selling small exotic mammals that they spend a while at because the woman running the booth has a sugar glider on her shoulder. Michael and JJ are completely transfixed on the small animal, even more so when it decides to hop on top of JJ's head. She squeaks in surprise, while Emily and the boys laugh, the brunette quickly whipping out her phone to record a video to send to the team group chat later.

They stop at another vendor selling sulcata tortoises a few minutes later, the vendors allowing the boys to feed the giants a few leaves of romaine lettuce (another video recorded, but this time for Penelope because Emily and JJ know she would want to see as much of this as possible next girl's night).

It's nice to see how interactive some of the vendors are with the boys. Some allow them to pet certain display animals and talk to them about each one. Michael yelps in surprise when he pets a large tegu because the lizard flicks its tongue out lazily at the boy. Henry is a bit wary of a scaleless bearded dragon and corn snake, wrinkling his nose when he tentatively touches the animal with the vendor's approval.

("It looks like a ball sack," Emily whispers to JJ, eyeing the animal with as much distain as Henry. "It probably feels like one, too." Her own nose wrinkles at the thought, but a smile forms on her face when her wife laughs at her. "What? It's true! Probably!"

“Touch it and find out,” JJ challenges, laughing again when Emily shudders at the thought.

“Yeah, no thanks. I’ll pass.”)

They take plenty of pictures and videos of the boys, mostly standing back and letting the boys enjoy themselves. Though, the boys do convince their moms to participate in petting or holding certain animals. It doesn't take JJ much convincing to hold a tiny banana ball python (she thinks it's really pretty) and a pied ball python whose body consists of huge white spots (she refuses to believe it's real because what?!?) that just fit in her palm. Emily gets suckered into holding a massive carpet python with Henry, tensing only slightly when the snake flicks its tongue in her face.

Henry keeps an eye out for his perfect pet, regarding some of the corn snakes and crested geckos at some vendors with some interest, but moves on otherwise. It's not until they get to a table with a vendor selling leopard geckos that he really pays attention.

Henry looks at the animals in the tupperware containers, each shallow cylindrical container slotted perfectly in a custom black foam board. It made a lot of the animals' colors pop, especially the bright yellow, orange and white geckos in the middle of the board. The women note how Henry's gaze keeps going back to the row with several of these white and yellow geckos, obviously having peeked his interest the most. The last gecko in the row is a stunning bright orange, the tail thick and animal alert. The green marker on top of the lid lists the gecko as a "sub-adult tangerine 25% het temper $75" with the symbol off to the side listing it as a male.

Emily kneels down beside him, peeking between Henry and the gecko. “What are you thinking?”

“He’s pretty,” Henry says in awe. “His tail is thick and he looks really healthy.”

“You guys need any help?” the young man running the booth asks, coming up towards them from behind the table.

“Can I ask a few things about him?” Henry asks, carefully pointing out the orange gecko.

The young man replies with a warm smile, nodding. “Sure, go ahead.”

Emily holds her palms up in a peaceful gesture, letting Henry take the reigns. She stands up behind him, reaching out and grasping JJ’s hand when she comes up to her side with Michael on her opposite hip. “What’s happening? Did he find one?”

Emily smiles fondly at Henry, who’s asking simple, yet crucial, questions about the gecko with the vendor. “Yeah, I think so,” she replies quietly to her wife. “He really likes the orange one.”

The conversation seems to flow naturally between Henry and the vendor, the man periodically peering up at the women to engage them in the conversation about the animal, too. He asks Henry a few questions, nodding in approval when he replies with the information he learned while researching leopard geckos. “That guy right there is one of the friendliest geckos we’ve produced,” the guy adds, nodding to the orange gecko. “Really handleable and calm.”

With that confirmation, Henry turns his hopeful gaze up to his moms, silent question in his eyes.

“You guys can buy him and we’ll hold him back here if you need to pick up some more things or want to look around more so you’re not carrying him around all day,” the vendor assures.

JJ rests her hand on Henry’s shoulder. “This guy, huh?” she asks softly to confirm his choice, small smile on her face.

“I really like him,” Henry confirms with a nod.

“That settles it then,” Emily grins, slipping her wallet from her back pocket and handing over the cash for the animal, sealing the deal.

Henry beams as the man takes the cash, carefully sliding the gecko from the foam board and setting the container behind the table. Henry throws his arms excitedly around both women. “Thanks, moms! You guys are the best!”

Emily smooths her hand through his hair lovingly, smiling warmly as JJ bends and plants a kiss on his forehead.

“You guys can come back here and get him when you’re ready,” the vendor confirms for them, picking up a business card and handing it off to Henry. “If you guys have any more questions or if anything pops up, give us a call and we’ll help out, okay?”

“Thank you!” Henry says genuinely, clutching the card tightly with a grin before turning and tugging on his moms towards the back of the hall.

“Thank you so much,” JJ repeats towards the vendor, smiling warmly at him before allowing Henry to tug her towards the vendors selling supplies.

“See you soon!” the man calls out, waving to them before tending to another customer.

They look around at some more vendors, Henry stopping at a few to buy what he still needs for his new gecko along the way. Michael’s back down on the ground, following his older brother with the same enthusiasm. The two chatter amongst themselves excitedly. JJ and Emily fall in step behind them, watching on with fond smiles that never seem to leave their face even as they leave the convention hall with a new addition to the family in tow.

Emily looks back in the rear view mirror at the boys, smiling to herself as they lean their heads together to look at the gecko in the container secured on Henry’s lap. She turns when JJ leans over and presses a kiss to her shoulder, linking their free hands together in the space between the front seats, a comfortable silence falling between them. The drive home is filled with the excited chatter of their boys from the backseat, the distinct scent of the fast food they had quickly picked up for an easy dinner swarming the car.

It’s oddly comfortable in a way, Emily thinks to herself as the sun starts to set over the horizon. She’s never felt more at peace than she is right now, listening to the boys chatter in the background and feeling the warmth her wife provides as she leans her head on her shoulder.

It’s dark out by the time they get home, just ten minutes until the boys’ bedtime.

Henry and Michael immediately bound up to Henry’s room, the older boy setting the container down gently. He puts the small coleny of dubia roaches into a critter keeper with the food and gel water cubes before setting them off the side. Then, he begins to put the finishing touches to the tank, adding the hides and a small, shallow dish that he fills with calcium powder. Emily trails behind, helping out any way she could and taking the bottle of water JJ hands off to her from behind to cap off the water bowl.

The two women take a seat on Henry’s bed, watching the boys as Henry carefully lifts the container and sets it in the tank. He opens the lid and removes it from the tank, snapping the lid back in place. “We gotta let him come out on his own and get used to it before we pick him up,” he softly tells his younger brother, taking a step back from the tank and joining his moms on the bed. He climbs up between them, smushing himself at their sides and leaning against them. Emily hoists Michael up on her lap, planting a kiss on his head as they all watch the gecko slowly climb out of the container and begin to explore his new environment.

JJ plants a kiss on Henry’s head, reaching over and laying a hand comfortingly on Michael’s back as he leans tiredly against Emily. “What do you think?”

“I love him already,” Henry admits quietly, eyes following his new pet as he explores his tank.

“What are you gonna name him?” Emily wonders, rubbing Michael’s back soothingly to convince him to go to sleep.

“Mr Sparkles,” the toddler tiredly mumbles, cracking a smile at his own joke.

Henry giggles, sounding just as tired as his brother. He lets out a yawn, letting his head lean against JJ’s side. He brings up his hand, moving his glasses out of the way to rub his eye with the back of his hand. “Smaug,” he decides sleepily. “His name is Smaug.”

JJ reaches down, carefully removing his glasses and setting them on his desk before running her fingers soothingly through his hair. “I think that’s a perfect name,” she murmurs.

Her eyes flicker back to the tank, watching the gecko until she feels Henry’s full weight leaning into her. She turns to Emily, who silently confirms with a nod that both boys are asleep. She shifts Michael in her arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek and cradling the bak of his head as she stands. JJ slowly moves herself from the bed, managing to grab Henry in her arms to move him up towards his pillows. She flicks off his bedside lamp, blinking in surprise when the basking light to the gecko’s tank also goes dark before remembering that it’s on a timer. She leans down, pressing a soft kiss to Henry’s forehead and murmuring an “I love you” on his skin before moving for Emily to do the same.

They shuffle out to Michael’s room, JJ carefully and quietly shutting Henry’s door behind her. The routine is the same with Michael, laying him down in his bed, giving him a kiss goodnight and murmuring quiet “I love you”s on his skin before sneaking out and closing the door behind them.

JJ leans up, pressing a tired, soft kiss on Emily’s lips in the middle of the hallway, hoping to convey even the smallest amount of affection she holds for her wife with the simple gesture. Emily gently cups her face between her palms, melting into the gesture as she always does. “I love you,” she hums quietly on the blonde’s lips, smiling wide when she feels JJ smile against her.

“I love you. So much.”

#criminals minds #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #jemily #jj x emily #emily x jj #momily!!!!!#jemily fluff 🥺#jemily family fluff #i nerded out about reptiles and i’m only slightly sorry about it #i actually don’t care for Uromastyx oops #i only know how to take care of maybe 5 reptiles tops #leopard geckos are one of those reptiles #ngl i miss having one #anyway i can’t write endings #enjoy x #am i out of my writing funk??? i don’t think so bc i kinda hate it #lol #enjoy it anyway

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