#eta: I once again disappeared from the tag

[e2castiel]

#the boys #theboysedit #tvedit #a-train #reggie franklin #jessie t. usher #lmao #eta: I once again disappeared from the tag #but editing the post the last time brought me back #will it work again #let’s find out!

[sugar-omi]

could i possible request fem!cove and fem MC?? just little head canons both sfw and nsfw! i have nothing entirely specific in mind but just anything that you'd like 😊

THE SMILE ON MY FACE *KICKS FEET* HEHE OF COURSE YOU CAN eta now that im done: this is a big mindless, nonsense ramble i. im sorry. i was having the biggest gay panic of my life thinking abt her LMFAO 💀💀

tags : SFW + NSFW, fem/afab cove and reader, oral (cove receiving, reader receiving ment), menstruation ment,

synopsis : me losing my mind over fem!cove 🏌️

SFW

she's not much different to cove already ofc

but in my head she shines so bright omfg...

i like to imagine she's buff no matter what

washboard abs, toned arms and thighs...

but then think abt studious!cove

i want her to be soft....

bitta tummy, thighs perfect to wrap around your head... just squishy

so torn between the two. pls i can't she's PERFECT

either way, strong enough to pick you up

if big n buff she princess carries you all the time

if you do the same back tho, once you put her down she can't stand on her feet

she's swooning. actually falling. she's in love....

MATCHING CLOTHES

ah. you two going shopping and you seeing a dress n getting it for her....

she wears it on your next date, all shy and cute because she doesn't wear dresses often

dies if you give her attention over it, especially if you make a risque comment- she can't handle it

definitely lets you put makeup on her, she's just not good so if you are, please help...

once you see her in lip gloss for the first time, please kiss her and make a comment like "your lips looked so delicious, i couldn't help it" or "i like that color on you, do you think it'd suit me too?"

and then make it a habit bc now she's buying many lip glosses so you can kiss her silly <333

back to the doesn't wear dresses/skirts often thing

i think she's very active

always in shorts, t-shirt, tank top...

i wanna put her in a 2 piece suit

nice black slacks and a vest

the vest accentuating her chest because of it's low cut..

but i'd most likely to put her in a pretty dress for the ORCA dinner

does her best to dress up, even gets a bit of help from randy bc she is definitely a bit lost when it comes to fashion

but when you see her she literally knocks the breath outta you

she IS the prettiest girl in the world

ohhh her in the low light of the dinner, the blue lights just making her look so magical

pls she's everything to me

SHE STEALS YOUR CLOTHES.

OMG HER SLEEPING IN YOUR T-SHIRT!!!!

if your shirt is big n baggy on her she looks so cute...

although if your clothes run smaller or she's in a crop top/tight shirt....

imma save that for NSFW...

if you like painting your nails, she'll match!!!

isn't good at keeping them from getting chipped, but she does her best

omfg so i've seen some people say that their periods sync with their girlfriends (me n my bestie are always synced istg!!!!)

that's you and cove

you two usually know that if you got it, the other got theirs or is getting theirs

even if you get on birth control or have say pcos or smth like that that causes your periods to be irregular/disappear, pls still comfort n hang out w her!!!

i think hers is quite irregular as well so sometimes she's the one comforting you

now im projecting af, but when she gets it it's heavy!!!

not projecting but she definitely cramps, sometimes worse than others

either way, she loves cuddling up together and watching movies and stress eating snacks with you

anyway moving on before i add smth else<3333

NSFW

still a professional pussy eater !!!

(i watch this podcast and i need yall to see *this clip bc i just wanna say.... cove would definitely eat pussy to the bone. he's a DAWG!!!!)

probably even better at navigating your cunt since it's familiar territory

NOW ABOUT HER TITTIES IN THAT TIGHT SHIRT<33

she does her damnedest to NOT wear a bra, usually wears a sports bra

but again, she prefers no bra <3

and sometimes she gets away with it

but i love the idea of her waking up, her shirt all wrinkled and crooked, making it more fitting than it already is.

you can't focus on your cereal because she's shuffling towards you, nipples straining against the thin fabric.

cove flopping next to you on the couch, stealing bites of your cereal. and before she knows it, you kissed her breathless and all but snatch her shirt off, enticed by the rise and fall of her chest.

cupping cove's tits in your hands, she's so soft, and cove let's out the prettiest whimper when you brush your fingers over her nipples

if you suck on her chest, you get an even better reaction, cove rewarding you with loud moans and desperate calls of your name.

her hands in your hair, legs shaking and thighs clenching around you, totally ruined when you slip your hand into her sleep shorts, your fingers running over her darling clit.

she's cute<333

ah. i had a thought that i wanted to share earlier hehe

double sided dildo w cove....

holding hands while you both fuck back on the toy, cove hooking her legs over yours and getting as close as possible to play with your chest and kiss you..

ohh but would love if you got on top, the toy hitting both of you so deep inside, cove's body bouncing from the force of your hips

oh my fucking god.

she's a squirtter

arghh imma lose my MIND

imagine the first patreon moment, and you have her laid out all pretty in her bed, her legs over your shoulders and a hold on her thighs to keep her from crushing your head.

her thighs trembling in your hold, feet bumping against your back and she's clawing at the sheets, whining and moaning so pretty about how your tongue feels so good, low curses slipping from her lips...

tries pushing you away, tears in her eyes.

"y/n- oh god.. wait, i'm- imma make a mess!" she whimpers, throwing her head back when you just suck on her clit more intensly, your fingers curling against her spongy walls, loud squelches coming from your ministrations.

would make such a mess, the covers under her butt getting soaked in her fluids, it's even running down your neck and chest, a sight she has to tear her eyes away from when she finally comes down from her high.

would look so pretty too, her eyes rolled back and thighs trembling, back arching up and she'd fuck back on you, milking her orgasm and whimpering from any minor touch to her sensitive body..

oh and she'd peek at you through wet, spidery lashes, her pretty blues look so brilliant and darling even with the low light of the room and once she stops covering her face with her arm/fingers, you can see the bright blush on her face.

jfc she'd be such a sight, you might have to do her again just to make sure you don't forget it.

#our life: beginnings & always #olba #cove holden #cove holden x reader #smut #cove holden smut #cove holden x mc

[merge-conflict]

Everything goes to shit in the usual way, except this time it’s Rogue that calls Johnny for help. Kerry only gets parts of the story from V, in curt, precise soundbites as she gears up. Rogue had helped Johnny piss Arasaka off again, and wherever she has managed to hole up in the city is no longer safe. It follows that all of them are no longer safe, either– news that V delivers with a sardonic smile he recognizes as a cover for fear.

Two hours later he lands his AV on some weed-choked patch of concrete in Northside, and tries not to think about all of the narrow sight lines where he can’t see someone coming. He almost shoots V, who limps out of an alleyway at a fair clip, right leg shiny with blood and hastily bandaged. She’s so focused on moving he’s not even sure she recognizes him when he pulls her up into the AV and keeps her from collapsing.

“ETA five minutes,” she tells him, listing dangerously as he lowers her down to take a look at her injured thigh. High caliber bullet wound, patched with a trauma kit to keep her from bleeding out, although the pale cast to her skin worries him. She picks her head up, brow knitted. “Kerry.”

“In the flesh,” he says. “Told you I’d get you a ride.”

“I’m fine,” she says, clumsily patting his shoulder before hooking her fingers into his jacket, pulling herself upright. She flashes him a smile, and then it’s gone. “Gotta be ready to delta.” A shiver rips through her, and her teeth chatter. “Five minutes.”

He’s already got the AV medkit half out of its bindings when a connection request pings in his vision, and he accepts it instinctively, thinking it must be comms– but instead he feels a wash of dizziness as his vision lights up with an overlay. It’s too much at once, dozens of little dim points of light and a handful of brighter pinpoints, all crowding each other out.

“–gotta fucking delta, just let it go!” Rogue’s voice cuts in, and Kerry hears the gunfire from her comms, a strange echo to the distant pops he can hear from outside the AV.

“She’s almost got it,” Johnny says, voice strained. “Go find V!”

“I got her, Johnny,” Kerry says, blinking rapidly as some of the points of light disappear from his visions, the rest resolving into more manageable tags in his interface. Two light blue dots for Rogue and Johnny, and almost ten red ones, shifting in and out of place as the soft tries to track them. “Looking a little hot in there.”

“Fucking understatement–“ Johnny’s voice cuts out momentarily. “Rogue–“

“I see them.”

“Alt,” V says quietly, as Kerry gives her an emergency infusion of synth blood and a med inhaler. She is lost in the lights of her interface, only her grip on his jacket keeping her tethered to the real world. “They’ll have a jammer here soon.”

“I’m familiar with Arasaka protocol,” Alt answers coolly over the comms, the deadness of her tone still filling him with uneasiness. “The AV is a greater concern.”

“Might be able to fly blind until we get out of range,” he says, feeling a strange sense of calm as his heart starts to race. He’s done it before– he can probably do it again. “What is the range on the jammer?”

“Full strength maybe fifty meters,” V says, slurring slightly as she finally start to relax from the painkiller. “Effective degradation three hundred, dependent on frequency. They could have–“ She bares her teeth lazily, letting her head fall back against the seat she is propped against. “They could have more than one. For you, Alt.”

“Most likely. Stand by.”

“These things supposed to have copilots?” V asks Kerry, falling just short of unconcerned. Clinging stubbornly to consciousness and just as dead calm as he is. Possibly just as worried.

“Hard to rustle up someone dependable on such short notice,” he says, and squeezes her shoulder with a reassuring smile. “Lucky for you I’m worth more than just my good looks.”

She exhales in some exhausted version of a laugh, and Johnny says, “Lucky for all of us, Ker–“

The comms cut out then, Kerry’s interface losing all the info V has been feeding him as it pops up a complaint about loss of connectivity. In the sudden silence, he wonders for the first time what will happen if backup finds them out here like sitting ducks. To keep himself occupied, he straps V into one of the seats and then returns to the controls. Tries not to think about anything other than the next five minutes ahead of him, and then the next five after that.

Finally, the pops of gunfire come closer, and the sound of something large and rhythmic getting closer. A mech, he thinks, probably mounted with the kind of gun meant to punch through AV armor. It doesn’t matter. Nothing he can do about it except be ready to move. The engine is running, the controls are ready, and he tries not to let the warning lights of the on-board soft get to him.

The footsteps– they are definitely footsteps– get closer and closer, but he sees Johnny and Rogue circling the corner. Rogue is in front, limping as she jogs, bloody but upright. Johnny is close behind, one hand clamped against his ribs while he stops to check behind him. Kerry swallows his heart when he sees the behemoth form of Adam Smasher crunching into view, bullets pinging off his armor as he goes.

“Alt,” V says, with a burst of zeal. “Look at her go.”

It takes him another few moments to process what she means. There’s something strange about the way Smasher runs, lagging behind Johnny and Rogue, unnaturally stiff and clumsy. But it’s not until a group of Arasaka soldiers materialize around the building, firing indiscriminately at the three ahead of them, that he really believes it. Then the three of them are climbing into the AV, the entire thing shifting wildly as Alt folds Smasher almost in half to fit inside.

“I didn’t know you were a getaway driver,” Rogue tells him, as she sinks into the co-pilot’s seat next to him, strapping herself in with practiced ease. Gunshots are pattering on the outside of the AV, and he can hear a hollow whoosh behind his seat before explosions flare out in the alleyway, the sound momentarily stunning him in place.

Thankfully, his instincts kick in, and they lift off smoothly. They’re above the rooftop of the nearby warehouse before Kerry belatedly replies, “It’s just a promotional sort of deal, y’know? Gotta create some buzz for my next drop.”

“Take us just out past the plant, I’ve got some people waiting,” Rogue tells him. “Y’know, I might just buy this one.”

He laughs in reflex. “Always good to have a new fan.”

Time blurs. Kerry watches himself fly, pursued by three Arasaka AVs flying blind just like he is, only they’re armed with guns. Somehow he manages to keep them from getting scrapped until Alt can position herself with a clear sight, hitting the closest flier with a facefull of rockets that sends it falling out of the sky. A second one takes a stinger to the belly, but manages to land on the roof of a building before being hit by a second. The third one peels off, out of range of the truck barreling through Northside in close pursuit.

He sets them down within a reassuring circle of Rogue’s mercs, and for just a moment when he’s stepping out of the AV he feels an old and very unhappy echo. The clap of Johnny’s hand on his shoulder shatters the feeling before it can settle in, the clumsy crash of his hip into Kerry made heavier by V hanging precariously on his other side.

“Bout time to take this show on the road, don’t you think?” Johnny asks casually, like he hasn’t just had Kerry upend his life. Like he isn’t charging blindly straight down the same path that got him killed.

Kerry yanks him down by the neck– harder than he means to with his adrenaline still pumping. He wants to hit Johnny, wants to crawl under his skin, but he settles for this: the acrid smell of sweat and explosives, chapped lips and Johnny’s hunger no longer hidden behind overlapping layers of armored shame. After, Johnny looks at him with dark eyes, and Kerry says gruffly, “Yeah, I think so.”

#shenanigans au #action for this one #alt playing the world's most urgent game of qwop #kerry eurodyne #johnny silverhand #valentine #johnny and his ex and his ex and his ?? and his ???!! #gang's all here #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fic #my fic

[vacant--body]

MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING: Su!c!de attempt, graphic description of bl00d, mentions of death, medical procedure talk, loss of pregnancy, PTSD, lots and lots of angst, mentions of drinking.

Female!reader, love triangle with Steve and Bucky (kinda?)

Word count: roughly 2,076

Please don't read if any of these warnings will trigger you :)

I'M SO SORRY PLEASE DON'T HATE ME

✿~~~✿~~~✿~~~✿~~~✿

Bucky's eyes snapped open, his advanced hearing honing in on the soft wails coming from down the hall. It was you, it always you. He inhaled sharply and pushed himself out of his warm bed, his dog tags clinking against his bare chest. It gets worse when Steve isn't here; your night terrors. He's the only one that can rock you back to sleep, soothing your tear stained cheeks and calming your raging mind. Bucky isn't very good at it, but he can get the job done.

His door slid open and he walked quietly down the hallway, careful not to wake anybody else up. Tony had to semi soundproof your room. When you first came to live in the compound, your screams would keep everyone up all night. Now only Bucky and Steve could hear your cries, which often made for sleepless nights. But lately it’s been getting better, which he was thankful for. Both for your sake and his sake.

Bucky stopped in front of your door, expecting it to just slide open like it normally does. But it didn't. Confused, he waved his hand in front of the sensor but it didn't budge. "Friday?" He yawned, annoyed. What couldn't Tony just put in normal doors? They're so much simpler. "What's wrong with the door?"

"It seems that Ms. Y/L/N has locked it." Strange. You never lock it.

"Well, unlock it." He snapped back at the AI.

"I cannot. She has over-ridden my capabilities to unlock it."

"What?" Bucky asked, suddenly more awake. The hairs on his arms stood up and a gut wrenching feeling began to churn in his stomach. He could hear you on the other side, still crying. "Y/N!" Bucky yelled pounding on the door. The cries grew harder. "Y/N open the door!"

"Go away!" You screamed. "Just go!" This wasn't a night terror, you were awake. “I don’t need you, Bucky!”

"Friday, get Tony down here." Bucky yelled, pounding on the door again. "Y/N please just open the door! Let me help!"

"Don't need your help." There was the sound of the bathtub starting up. "Just go."

"Bucky,” A tired voice groaned from behind him. Sam. "It's 2:30 in the morning, why in the hell are you screaming."

"Y/N locked us out." He muttered, pressing his ear against the door. He could hear you whimpering on the other side. "Friday can't open it."

"Friday, get Tony-"

"He is on his way." She replied back. "Ms. Y/N also disabled her cameras. I can't see inside there either."

"Y/N!" Bucky tried again, his voice cracking just enough for him to notice. Hopefully not enough for Sam to notice.

"Does someone wanna tell me why I am down here in the middle of the god damn night?" Another voice said behind them.

"Just get the fucking door open." Bucky snarled. Tony took note of the worry and urgency in his voice and unlatched a panel that was next to the door. He moved some wires around and the door hissed open.

Bucky rushed in and the state of your room hit him like a truck. It was a wreak. Your mattress was halfway off of its frame, your dresser was knocked over with all the clothes torn out, and there was a smashed chair in the corner. You had also punched out your mirror, making Bucky's footsteps crunch as he walked through her room. How did he not hear this? Why didn't he wake up? But that's not what bothered Bucky. His nose instantly picked up on a coppery smell that stung the inside of his nostrils, making him instantly nauseous. He pushed into the bathroom, where somehow the cupboard was shoved in front of.

The sight before him was enough to make him cry and vomit at the same time. You were submerged in the bathtub, the water stained a bright red color. A long shard of glass from the mirror was laying on the floor, stained with your crimson blood. Two deep long cuts had been carved into your forearms. The ringing in his ears slowly subsided and he heard the sound of either Tony or Sam dry heaving behind him. He wasn't sure who it was.

"Friday, prep medical bay. Get Banners ass up. Now." He heard Tony growl.

Bucky sunk to his knees, his sweatpants become stained with the blood soaked water that had sloshed over the edge. "Y/N." He muttered. She was pale. Too pale. "Y/N!" He yelled grabbing her by the shoulders. “Open your fucking eyes and look at me!" You didn't open her eyes, the only movement was coming from your chest. You were taking quick short breaths, which Bucky figured wasn't good. "Please don't do this to me, please. I need you, fuck-" He choked back a sob.

"Buck, we have to get her down to-" Before Sam could finish his sentence, Bucky was lifting you out of the water and took off towards the med bay.

Banner was already down there, a suturing kit already laid out. "How much blood has she lost?" He asked immediately as soon as Bucky came barreling through the doorway.

"A lot." Was all he could manage. He carefully laid you down on the cot. His thoughts were going a mile a minute. You were supposed to be getting better. Sam and Banner were supposed to be helping you, the therapy was supposed to be helping. Not killing you. Why wasn’t it helping? Why were you so selfish? How could you do that to us? To me, to Steve. To this whole team?

"Well good thing most of the team is A Positive so we have some on standby for her." Banner said. Bucky wasn't sure if he was talking to him or to himself.

Banner flushed out your wounds with what looked like water, and carefully began to stitch you up. Bucky noticed the slight shaking in his wrist and he pulled your skin together.

"Where is Steve?" Bucky whispered to Tony, not taking his eyes off of Y/N and Banner. For once, you looked like you were at peace. Your features were smoothed and relaxed, nothing like your previous state.

"His teams on their way back. ETA 4 hours." Tony whispered back.

A heavy silence fell over the med bay. Bucky felt drained. He couldn't keep his thought straight in his head, and it was numbing. He just kept asking the same thing. Why? You were doing so good. You were laughing, smiling, and actually making progress to talk to people outside your comfort zone. Of course you were still having night terrors, Sam said those wouldn't go away for a long time. But other than that you were fine. You said you were fine. He couldn't understand why.

Banner was done with one side. He moved over to the other and began to repeat the process, but one of the machines she was hooked up to began beeping rapidly. His head snapped up and his brows furrowed.

"Friday do a full body scan please." He grunted.

"What? What's wrong?" Bucky pleaded, his skin tightening and his stomach doing loops.

"Blood pressure is dropping. Not good." Was all he heard over the several machines firing at once.

"There is hemorrhaging. Location: uterus." Friday said back. "Surgery is recommended."

Banner quickly finished the last of the sutures and yanked your water and blood soaked sweatpants off. There was a large amount of blood pooling in between your legs.

"Bruce what is that?" Bucky yelled rushing over to them. "What's wrong with her, did she stab herself there?" He felt like he was going to vomit.

"Bucky-" He started as he fumbled with some tubing.

"What are you doing to her?!" Bucky yelled again his voice become more and more distressed. "You're gonna kill her please help her!"

"Tony get him the hell out of here!" Banner screamed finally, the Hulks voice peaking behind his anger and frustration.

Bucky was being yanked out of the bay by Sam and Tony. He could fight back easily, fight them off so he could be with you. But his legs were so shaky he could hardly stand on his own two feet. The windows that looked into the bay dimmed and Bucky caught one last look as Banner yanked down Y/N's underwear. A sob escaped from Buckys lips as he crumpled to the ground. What was happening now? Y/N must be so scared. He was so scared.

He felt that hot tears prick at his cheeks and dribbled down into his beard hair. He was crying. Crying for the first time in who knows how long. He couldn't loose you. You were the only one who truly understood Bucky. You meant too much to him.

"Buck-" Sam started but Bucky just cut him off.

"Leave me alone." He sobbed. It felt like a metal pipe had been shoved down Buckys throat. He couldn’t breathe. "Please just go away." Tony and Sam shared a look before the disappeared down the hallway.

He sat there for what seemed like days. But it was only hours. Soon enough Steve came jogging down the hallway to where Bucky sat.

"Buck." Steve gasped, kneeling down next to him. "What happened?"

"I thought she was having a night terrors." Bucky's voice was raw and it hurt to swallow. The crying must have stopped hours ago, but he couldn't remember when it ended. "But she locked me out. Tried to...tried to..."

"Oh god." Steve whimpered, understanding what he was saying. “Is she...?" Bucky shook his head.

"She started bleeding. I think Banners still doing surgery." Steve's face was screwed tightly together as he stood back up. Bucky couldn't tell what he was feeling. He paced the hallway for a bit before he slid down against the wall across from Bucky, his eyes blankly staring at the door. He could see the trembling in his chest when he inhaled.

They sat there in silence for about another hour, when suddenly, the doors to the med bay swung open. Banners eyes fell on them. He sighed heavily and put his hands in his pockets.

"What? What is it?" Bucky pleaded getting to his feet, which caused Steve to stand up.

"Is she okay?" Steve asked, his brows closely knit together.

"Yeah. She's stable. Woke up for a few minutes but she's sleeping now. I had to give her some medicine to calm her down. And I had to..." He trailed off. "Restrain her. She's very agitated." Bruce exhaled and wrung his hands together.

"Then what happened? Why did you have to do surgery." Bucky prodded. He could tell Banner was hiding something.

"The bleeding was caused by a mixture of shock and her blood pressure tanking. I couldn't-" He cleared his throat like he was keeping back tears. "I couldn't save the fetus. She miscarried."

It felt like someone had punched Bucky in the gut. Fetus? Miscarried? She was pregnant?

"From what I could tell she was about 15 weeks along. I ran the DNA because I wasn't...I wasn't sure who the father was."

"I had a child?" Steve whimpered. Tears were falling freely down his face.

"No, Steve.” He whispered softly. “Bucky, it was yours.”

"What? No. That's impossible." Steve scoffed. "You must have your science shit mixed up. There is no way."

"No, he's right." Bucky whispered, absolute shocking talking grip of his body.

"I'm sorry. It was a boy."

"What? No. No! It's wrong. Go test it again Banner! I know it's wrong!"

"Steve-"

"You were fucking her?!" Steve screamed, turning to Bucky. "You knew I was in love with her and you were fucking her?!"

"It was once Steve! Almost 3 months ago! We were drunk and you were away on a mission and I came onto her!" Bucky bargained, staring into the flames of his best friend’s eyes.

"You fucked my girl! My girl!" Steve was irate, barely able to contain himself.

"She isn't yours Steve, you're not even together!"

"I told her that I loved her! And you went and fucked her anyway! What, do you always follow your dick!? I bet that's why she refuses to look at you!"

"No, she told me that she loved me!" Bucky screamed back, his voice echoing in the hallway as silence washed over them. Bucky took a deep breath. "She said it first. And I told her it was a mistake and should be with you." He said quietly.

Steve let out an animalistic growl, and his fist made contact with the side of Bucky's cheek and the back of his head smashed against the wall.

"I love you Bucky." Y/N's soft voice said. Your head was currently buried in Bucky's bare chest. "It's you. It's always has been." You whispered.

Bucky reached down and cupped her cheek, making you look at him. He has been waiting to hear that since they first met. He didn't believe in love at first sight but ever since he first laid eyes on you, he started to believe.

"You don't mean that, doll." He muttered back. Alcohol was still running its course through their bodies. "You're drunk."

"Drunk words are a sober mans thoughts."

"Y/N-"

"I want you Bucky. Just you. No more going back and forth between you and Steve. I can't do that anymore, Bucky. Please believe me." You pleaded, your large eyes staring into his.

"You deserve someone like Steve, not like me. You can't love me." He sighed, letting go of your face.

"I love Steve. He’s amazing and kind, but I love I have for him isn’t like how I love you.”

"No. You love the thought of me." He snapped, rising off the bed. "But you don't love me Y/N. I promise you, you don't. You shouldn't." He gathered his clothes from the floor and shimmied into them. He reached the door and stopped at the sound of your voice.

"But-" Bucky winced at the sound of your voice as it was filling with tears.

"I'm sorry." He whispered turning away, his own eyes brimming with tears. "I don't deserve you. You can't love me. I'm sorry."

part 2

#bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky fic #bucky oneshot #marvel imagine #mcu #i'm so sorry lmao #please don't hate me #steve rogers #love triangle #triggering content #bucky drabble #bucky deserves love #comfort character #bucky angst

[calif0rnia-lovers]

#1: the proposal | plan b.

pairing: angel reyes x black!reader | chapter rating: 💙

total # of parts in series: 10

join my gc for updates since tags are acting weird

I keep falling for boys and mistaking them for men

series sum: After several failed relationships, you decide that you’re over waiting for Mr. Right to come around and help start a family. In a drunken ramble, you ask your best friend if he’ll be your donor. You didn’t expect him to say yes. As you and Angel enter uncharted waters, you both realize neither of you fully thought the initial proposal through.

words: 1.8 K

What is it they say…hope breeds eternal misery.

Or, as Angel Reyes likes to say, “I don’t know why you’re wasting time on that asshole.”

Asshole is the nicest term you can dub your boyfriend--correction, your ex-boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend.

It’s strange how quickly two letters--a simple prefix--can change your life.

One minute, you’re joining your boyfriend and his family on a getaway to the beach. The next, you’re being kindly escorted out of a restaurant for tossing a drink in his face.

When you’d left Santo Padre Friday afternoon, you had a single thought in your mind. He’s finally going to propose. The nervous behavior, the talks about moving to a bigger apartment, him inviting you to a weekend getaway with his family.

How else would a rational person explain this behavior?

Well, according to Michael, all of those things do not add up to a proposal. They add up to “softening the blow."

As you sit on the curb waiting for your uber, with Michael's big splurge of the evening in hand--a bottle of Cabernet, you realize his explanation was complete bullshit. How is dragging you to Santa Monica for the weekend "softening the blow?" If he was going to break up with you, he could have done it in Santo Padre.

As you double-check the ETA on your uber, you remember.

Michael didn't drag you to Santa Monica to break up with you. He dragged you to Santa Monica to ask you to "take a break."

Apparently, there's a difference.

As Michael put it, with his birthday fast approaching, he'd had an epiphany. He needed time to "get out there" and "explore" his options.

"We're in our thirties," he'd explained. "We only have a few years left before we're expected to settle down, have kids. I think we should take this time to get everything out of our system, so by the time we come back together, we're ready to start that family you're always talking about."

The nervousness you'd seen the past two weeks? Had nothing to do with hiding a ring, or trying to find the perfect opportunity to pop the question. The nervousness was Michael trying to find the right time to ask you not to renew the lease of the apartment, you share, at the end of the month.

The talk about upgrading to a bigger apartment? Had nothing to do with having an extra room for the kid you've both talked about having. It was so that he could move in with his two best friends.

Michael’s epiphany left you in shock. You were caught between realizing the entire revelation wasn’t a complete joke and realizing you were expected to ride home with his family in the morning. The drink tossing didn’t come until Michael rubbed his hands together, a knowing smile sliding onto his face.

Taking your shocked silence as a lack of protest to his idea, Michael nodded over his shoulder. “You wanna head back up to the room...have some fun our last night together?”

The weight of Samantha--wait. No. Savanna...Sabrina? No, Salena.

The weight of Salena’s body presses Angel into the mattress. Her body is nearly directly on top of his, her face nuzzled into the warmth of his neck.

He’s not used to women sleeping over. Angel has one rule. He wants to sleep alone. Translation, be gone when he wakes in the morning.

That’s why, when he wakes to the sound of a slamming door, Angel is pissed.

His initial thought is that Salena let the door slam on her way out. The only problem is, Salena is still in bed with him--sleeping soundly. If she wasn’t, he would have been up able to react quicker. Because if it’s not Salena leaving, it means that someone is coming in.

“You need to go,” Angel mumbles as he manages to escape her grip.

Salena responds by rolling over and ignoring his request.

When he leaves his bedroom, Angel finds his entire house in darkness. His hand runs down his face as your voice fills the air.

"Ow--shit!" Your keys and purse fall to the floor as you bump into the coffee table.

"Y/N, what are you doing?"

“What are you doing?” You counter the slurring of your speech causing Angel’s head to shake. “...standing in the dark like a fucking creep.”

“Are you drunk?”

Your head shakes. Even if half-asleep, Angel knows you’re not drunk. You’re hammered, at least by your standards. He’s known you long enough to realize you’re a lightweight. A two and a half-hour ride with a bottle of Cabernet meant you were well past your limit.

“And why are you back early--did you drive here?”

“No,” you scoff. “I took an uber obviously--”

A second trip into the coffee table silences the rest of your response.

“Alright, come on--” Angel takes your hand in his, preventing you from falling forward.

“I don’t need your help.” Yanking your hand free of his grip--with more force than necessary--you stumble backward. Between the late hour and his body still attempting to shake off its grogginess, the action is too fast for Angel to predict. “Or any man’s help for that matter...fucking men--always thinking they need to save me--”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you--and fucking...fucking Michael--that piece of shit...” Despite your previous attempt to escape him, you turn on your heels causing Angel to bump into you. Instinctively, his hands find your waist. An innocent attempt to help maintain your balance. “--I said I don’t need help walking, Angel--”

“Clearly.” The smirk on his lips narrows your eyes.

The pathetic attempt of a shove you apply to his chest is enough to tip your already unsteady balance.

In his defense, Angel isn’t used to “rescuing” you from a drunk faceplant. Usually, the roles are reversed.

It may not be the smartest move, but it’s the quickest way to prevent another one of your escape attempts. Angel tightens his grip on your waist, pulling a small yelp from your lips as he lifts you off the ground throwing you over his shoulder.

The sudden shift in your posture blurs your vision--sending the room spinning. The rush of blood to your head causes your palm to come down hard in frustration against Angel’s back.

“Put me down…” Angel’s head shakes as your slurred speech trails off for a moment. Seizing the break in your resistance, he carries you across the darkened room towards the security of the sofa. “...what the hell are you doing in my house anyway?”

“This is my house.” Angel huffs as he lowers you onto the sofa. “If you get up, I’m not stopping you. I'm serious, I'll let you bust your ass this time.”

But moving from the sofa has already left your mind. Instead, your focus has drifted. Scanning the living room as Angel disappears. Despite his words, you're still not sure why you've ended up at his house and not yours.

“Here drink this,” Angel sighs as he returns. He hopes the glass of water will miraculously sober you up. Between failing to kick Salena out, and you showing up drunk at 3 in the morning, Angel is considering giving up women. At least for a few hours.

Angel’s steps come to a slow halt as he rounds the sofa to find you gone. Somehow, in the time it took him to fill a glass with water, you have slid down to the floor. Your back against the sofa, you’ve given up the impossible task of unfastening your heels. Instead, you’re tugging at them. Groans of frustration fill the air once the heels remain in place.

The shaky breaths and trembling of your fingers widen Angel’s eyes.

“Shit--are you crying?”

“I’m not crying.” The shaking of your head only seems to push the tears out faster. The blurring of your vision makes the task at hand impossible. “I’m not crying.”

“My bad, you’re not crying,” Angel repeats, hopeful it’ll make the crying stop. Handling a crying woman is not his strongest suit. In fact, he tries to avoid crying women at all costs. He focuses on the easier task of removing your heels. He offers you an encouraging smile once he’s done. “See, you’re all good.”

“No, I’m not.” Reaching forward, you grab the nearest heel, launching it as hard as you can. “Michael got me these.”

You manage to grab the second heel before Angel can. You launch it in the same direction as the first.

“I’ve always hated those ugly fucking shoes.”

The second heel doesn’t land in the middle of the floor like its predecessor. Instead, it flies straight into Salena’s arm as she rounds the corner.

“Ow--what the fuck? Angel!”

The overhead light cuts on, temporarily blinding both you and Angel. When you open your eyes, you find a half-dressed Salena standing over you. Your discarded heel in her left hand, her narrowed eyes focused on you.

"So, this is why you wanted me to leave? Your girlfriend is home?"

"Neither of us is his girlfriend, sweetheart." you correct.

“I’m not sleeping in your bed ever again,” you clarify, your voice muffled against your palms. “Not until you wash your sheets.”

In the time it took to get Salena out of the house you’ve found that your body has begun to crash. The idea of laying down the only thought of your mind. That’s why the moment he’s settled alongside you on the floor, Angel’s shoulder becomes your pillow.

“Please don’t say I told you so.”

Passing up the opportunity to be right, is not in Angel’s nature. But one look at you, he’s biting his tongue.

“I never liked him.”

“You've never liked anyone I’ve dated,” you laugh quietly.

“That’s because you only date assholes.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Exactly.”

Angel's arm drapes around you, the gentle squeeze he gives bringing a weak smile to your lips.

“That’s it,” you sigh. “I’m done dating. Forever.”

“Dating is overrated,” Angel notes.

It’s a phrase Angel has told you nearly a million times over the years. Typically, after you’ve watched him ensnare yet another naive woman with his smile. You typically roll your eyes at Angel's mantra, but right now, you don’t even bother.

“I’m serious, if you see me even blinking at the same guy twice grab me.”

“Yeah, okay,” Angel chuckles.

He knows there's no point in taking the promise any further. If Angel is a cynic when it comes to dating, you’re the poster child for hopeless romantics.

When you fall in love, you fall hard. When you get heartbroken, the fallout hits the hardest.

“I can’t wait until my forties to have a kid.”

“What?”

“I’ll be in my sixties when they graduate high school--my sixties!”

“That’s what this is about?”

“...he doesn’t want kids...at least not right now...he wants time to explore other options before being shackled to me forever.”

“I’m going to kick his fucking ass.”

“When you do, can I watch?”

“Fuck that, you’re getting in a few hits.”

“I can’t believe I wasted three years on him, thinking he was going to help me start a family,” you groan. “When I could’ve just asked you.”

Angel laughs, his smile growing as you giggle.

“I’m serious. Definitely would’ve happened faster.”

“If you want to have sex with me, there are much easier ways--”

“Shut up, it is not about sex,” you assure him as your eyes drift shut. “I actually pride myself in being one of the few women in this town you haven’t slept with. Being immune to your charm is a superpower.”

“You still ended up here tonight,” Angel grins.

You softly smile.

“That’s because you’re my best friend, and you always give the best hugs when I feel like shit.”

series taglist: @youlovetkay @mochachocolatteyaya @chaneajoyyy @sesamepancakes

angel + all mayans tags: @turn-thy-paige @finalgirlhales @jadesid @poetically-0riginal @diaryofkali @babaohhhriley @katastrophic04 @partypoison00 @rose-bliss @mayansxlover @joannasteez @headrushxreeta @brwnlikefoxy @nemesis729 @destiny-tsukino @inyourbackpocketisbutterflies @straightestgay-voice

all stories: @rosieposie0624 @amberritonicole @agoldin @est1887@toni9 @chaneajoyyy @relaxing-najee @awkwardtayler @siempremamita @seize-the-droid @glimmerglittergirl @cutiebubbleboo @pearlkitten33 @tian-monique @megapeacelovemusic-blog @sincerelykas @brattyfics @ladyofsoa@browneyes912 @beiroviski @sadeyesgf @mrsmarvelous1995 @everyhowlmarksthedead @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @demonquartz @appropriate-writers-name @ughdontbeboring @cocotheclown @thesandbeneathmytoes @queenbeered @starrynite7114 @wiccanmetallicrose @tomhardydallasstarsgirl

#may the queue be with you #angel reyes x black!reader #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes imagine #mayans imagines

[kjhmyg]

rough edges pt. 6 (m)

pairing: jungkook | (f) reader genre: college!au, badboy!jk, fluffy too :(  warnings: mentions of drugs, unprotected sex, cursing, violence, alcohol, drinking, death, manhandling, college parties, boys lol  word count: 10.7K

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / part 6 / 6.5

author’s note: hello i love u. first of all welcome to  ♡ libra season ♡ sorry this took so long; it feels kinda short so maybe i’ll post a short 1k chapter next week (part 6.5). i wrote the last half of the last part like an hour ago i hope i didnt make any big grammatical errors or typos lol. also dedicating this to my friend haru who i miss loads.

RE asks tag

What was a red mark on Jungkook’s cheek, has now turned purple-ish. He promises it doesn’t hurt anymore but you notice him mindlessly touching it at times. So you kiss it very gently each time you say goodbye and he doesn’t stop you.

With one arm around over the back of your chair, he’s feeding himself fries with the other. You lean against his shoulder, watching as he nibbles away. “Can’t keep your eyes off me huh?” He mutters.

“You know I can’t.” You admit, giggling into quick, continuous pecks. He lingers on a little longer on the last one like he always does.

“Will you guys save it for the bedroom?” Jimin asks, face twisted in disgust. He doesn’t really care, but it’s fun to tease Jungkook. “Gross.”

“Gross is you dipping fries in your coke.” Hana shakes her head at the soaked fry between his thumb and index finger.

"Don't be mad you don't have refined taste in food like me." He shoots back. “A soaked fry has equal parts sweet and salty.”

“You’re just gross.”

Hana’s realised it doesn’t take much to get under his skin and is enjoying every bit of it. The irony is that it always starts with Jimin trying to get under Jungkook’s skin. Next to Jimin, Taehyung’s phone has his undivided attention. In fact, he’s been rather quiet today, spending the last five minutes or so frowning at his screen.

“Tae, you alright?”

“No.” He sighs, finally looking up. “I have to get a job.”

“...And?”

“Well I don’t want to.” He says simply. “Can’t believe my parents are cutting off my allowance because I spend too much.” He uses air quotes.

Except for Jimin, the rest of you only manage blank stares, unable to sympathise with his first world problem. "Yeah, I’m sure those thousand dollar Balenciaga sneakers you got last week have nothing to do with it.” Jungkook says.

“Jungkook. They were limited edition.”

“A thousand dollars?” You say. “What the hell dude.”

“Okay can we stop talking about the past and focus on the present?” Leaning back against his chair and looking into the distance, Jimin places a comforting hand on his shoulder

“Don’t worry, we’ll find you a nice job.” Jimin says and he lets out a tiny whine, throwing his head back.

That’s when it hits you. You have no idea how, but it does. And you have no idea if it’ll work but you’re doing it anyway.

A clueless Hana raises a brow in question at the sudden look of mischief you give her. She braces herself for whatever you’re about to do, equally curious and worried. “Actually, you should apply at our café.” You say to Taehyung.

“They’re hiring?”

“Well not yet.” Turning back to her, you widen your eyes slightly, prompting Hana to play along. She quickly does, noticing Jungkook watching her over your shoulder. “I’m leaving soon so they’ll definitely need a replacement.”

“You’re quitting?” Jungkook asks, sitting up straight. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” The little head shake you give isn’t enough to convince him. “I just wanna work somewhere else. Anyway, you’d like working there Tae. It’s nice.” The other boy perks up, seemingly interested.

Hana agrees, explaining the details of your work and what it’s like there. While they talk, Jungkook squeezes your shoulder to get your attention, “Are you sure nothing happened? Creeps harassing you again?”

“No, really.” You say, hand over his cheek. “I just want a change of environment. The job’s getting boring.”

The worry in his eyes gradually disappears as he seems to accept it. He gives a soft okay for now. Looking away, you let out a silent sigh of relief. On the inside, the rational side of you is yelling her head off. What possessed you to decide to quit your job for no good reason? This plan is banking on the chance that Jungkook will let you join him at the club. Which when you think about it, is very unlikely to happen.

Yet, another part of you is excited. Your mind is in a frenzy. Convincing yourself you’ll figure the details out later, you silently thank Taehyung and his Balenciagas for handing you this opportunity.

"Oh hey, we better get going." Jimin says, looking at the time on his phone. "We'll see you guys tonight?"

The girls of Eta Iota are hosting a party tonight. Naturally, the boys get invited and by association, you too. Sunhee’s cashing in on your promise of taking her to one, so you have to go even if it’s just to hang around for a while then leave. You part ways with Jimin and Tae as Jungkook gives Hana and you a ride back. He walks with you to the lobby of your place, where you tell Hana to head up first.

Right by the stairwell, he leans against the wall and holds you in his arms, between his legs. “Are you sure you wanna quit your job?”

"Yessss, I’m sure. I wanna work somewhere else." Resting your chin on his chest, you look up at him. "It's cute that you're worried about me."

“Of course I am.” He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll help you keep a lookout for places that are hiring.”

You smile gleefully up at him. Oh, he’s going to help you get a new job alright. Just not in the way he’s thinking. Already, you feel bad for lying to him. But you keep telling yourself you’re doing this for him.

He doesn’t let you go so easily when you try and remove yourself, not giving up his hold on you. When you pry his hands off, he tugs you right back in, locking you in his arms as kisses land all over your face. “Stop,” you laugh, “someone might see us.” But you don’t look around to check for anyone. He doesn’t care either.

He lifts you up easily, wrapping your legs around him. Switching positions, you now feel the cool wall against your back. “Should we skip the party tonight?” He asks, a hopeful look in his eyes.

“You have to go. It’s part of your fraternity sorority socialising thingy thing.” He rolls his eyes at that. “Plus, I promised Sunhee I’d go with her.”

"Fine. But I’m only going ‘cause you’re going."

“So I’ll see you there, okay?” He nods in response as his hold on you loosens. A peck on the cheek and you’re going up the stairs, one step at a time, hand still holding on to his. As it slips away, he squeezes his chest with his other hand and groans in mock pain.

“Silly,” you mutter between giggles. He breaks character and skips up the steps to get another kiss from you. At this rate he would never leave.

“Jungkook seriously,” you say against his lips, leaning back to separate yourself from him, “you should go now. I’ll see you later anyway.”

He complies and lets you go, but not without releasing a very dramatic sigh. You hurry up the steps before he changes his mind, looking down over the railing as you go, waving your goodbye.

𝄖𝄖

Purple, purple everywhere. The Etas had decided to do their rush party while celebrating their anniversary. Which explains why the decorations are of their ‘official’ colour. Purple balloons, cups, banners, napkins.

“This is so fun!” Sunhee squeals, coming up to hug you from behind. “I’ve made a bunch of new friends!” She squeals again and hurries off elsewhere, leaving you and Hana once again.

“I’m glad she’s enjoying herself.” Hana comments, taking a sip of her drink.

“Aren’t you?” You nudge her side. “You’ve had like four guys come up and give you their number. Don’t act like you’re not having fun.”

“I guess I’m havin’ a lil’ fun…” she mumbles towards the end, sipping on her drink with a tiny smile. She’s holding up much better than you thought she would. Much better than you at least, she doesn’t seem too bothered by the constant yelling.

There’s no reason to worry about Sunhee. She’d clung on to you earlier when you arrived together as promised, like you’re her ticket in. As soon as you passed through the doors, a couple of girls from the host house came up to greet you. While it was a little awkward for you, Sunhee saw her chance and took it. She’s been hanging out with them since.

“Where’s Jungkook?” Hana asks. She’s still unsure about your plan. You had gotten an earful from her earlier on, back at the apartment. Only after you promised, pinky promised and swore you’d be safe, did she finally calm down.

“Somewhere.” It’s crowded enough to not be able to see the other end of the room. You crane your neck to see better. “Don’t know if I can find him with all these people around.”

“Go.” Her pretty, long eyelashes flutter over her eyes as she looks at you. “Don’t worry about me.”

You’re hesitant to leave, but she reiterates that she’d be fine and you finally nod, much to her relief. She has Jimin and Taehyung with her anyway, she says, nodding over to the pair a few feet away.

Before disappearing into the crowd, you turn back to let her know you might not see her for the rest of the night. But she’s read your mind, waving her hands at you. “You’ll be with Jungkook, I know.”

“Text me when you get home. I love you.” You blow her a kiss and watch her roll her eyes, then push through bodies of people to get to a different part of the house. There’s way too many people here. Most of them tower at least a head over you, disrupting your view. Your phone vibrates just as you enter the biggest room of the house which gives you a little more maneuvering space than the previous one.

Jungkook: u look great

Slowly, you turn in the spot you’re in, paying close attention to each section of the room.

Jungkook: i like pink

Jungkook: ur ass looks great in those jeans btw

You: reveal yourself  

He doesn’t respond and you continue to wander around, until you reach a short hallway separating the kitchen area from the previous room. With more room to breathe, you decide to stay put knowing Jungkook won’t keep this up for long anyway. And you’re right.

"Looking for me?" His hot breath tickles your ear.

Spinning around, you're greeted by his wide grin and immediately hate how good he looks in a simple white tee with his house name, Kappa Sigma embedded on the left chest, and tucked into black jeans, "Hey you." He tastes like fruit punch when you kiss him.

Your bodies sway slightly to the music with his hands on your hips and your arms around his neck. He reaches behind, pulling something out of his back pocket and holds it up in front of you. “Lollipop?”

“It’s...purple.” You take it from him, observing its odd colour, wondering if this was even necessary.

“I know.” He chuckles. “They really go all out.”

You shrug, unwrapping the sweet and pop it in your mouth. “So, you wanna get out of here?” He asks.

“But I thought you liked parties,” you blink, “socialising, hooking up.”

“I know you’re making fun of me but it’s kinda hot when you talk like that.” He eyes the way your lips wrap around the lollipop, unconsciously mirroring the movement of your tongue licking the layer of sugar off your lips, suddenly going thirsty.

You shove him in the chest and he laughs, stepping back. “I’ve been here less than an hour.” You say. Although, it’s not like you were planning to stay long anyway. You know that, he knows that.

“You won’t miss a thing, trust me.” He hooks an arm over your shoulder. “Besides, we can get started on the hooking up part.” He winks.

You leave through the back, avoiding the large crowd up front. You quickly send a text to Hana to let her know you’re leaving. Out on the lawn, you walk past a group of guys drunkenly singing to their heart's content and you flash them a thumbs up despite how horrible they sound.

The Eta Iota house is just a few houses down from the boys’ and you walk back hand in hand, swinging your arms as you go. Jungkook watches your smile, and the way you laugh when your arms swing so far back that it throws you off balance and you almost fall. “You look good.” He says, softly.

“I know, you told me.” You say without sparing him a glance. “I look good in pink. And these jeans are good for my ass.”

“No.” His voice is as soft as his smile. Looking at him then, you notice the tender look in his eyes. “I mean you look good when you’re happy. It’s nice. Does that make sense? I don’t know.”

Your heart leaps at the way he looks away almost shyly, focusing entirely on the ground as he walks, his other hand in his pocket. You close the gap between you and kiss him on the cheek. “I’m always happy when I’m with you.”

“I’m happy when I’m with you too.”

The rest of the short walk back goes in comfortable silence, you still lightly swinging your arms. But as you reach the front of the house, Jungkook pauses. It surprises you when he decides to take a walk in the park instead. You give him curious glances along the way, wondering what’s gotten into him. It’s a ten minute walk from his place to a park that’s your go-to for impromptu date nights.

You walk past groups of people hanging around, laughing with food on large picnic mats. Finally you opt for an empty space on the grass, not too far away from others there but secluded enough to have some privacy.

“Oh my god, look at the clouds.” They’re big and fluffy, floating through the dark sky. “I wish we could see the stars. That’d be perfect.”

Jungkook follows your gaze. “There are places where you can do that you know.”

“Yeah, I’d love to go one day.” You say with a heavy sigh.

“We could go together.” Jungkook says, making you look at him. “Like a vacation.”

“Aw. I’d love that.”

He smiles sweetly, then turns in place to face you. “I went to look for places which were hiring earlier.”

“You did? Why?”

“Aren’t you...quitting your job?” He looks at you confused. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

“Yeah but, there’s no rush.”

“Just wanna make sure you have something to fall back on.” He says, checking his phone. “So, the bakery right next to the cafe is hiring.”

“Jungkook,” you laugh, “I can’t quit and then take up a job next door!”

“I know but, just in case.” He goes on, looking upwards as he recalls. “The school’s also looking for a part-time librarian⎼”

“Baby no, that’s so boring.” You groan. “I thought I’d look for something more...exciting. Like a routesetter maybe?”

“I didn’t know you rock climb?”

“Oh I don’t.” He looks at you with a blank expression on his face. “What? I can learn to!”

"You're weird." He shakes his head and taps your nose. "Why would you wanna go out of your way for a part time job?"

"Cause...it's fun?"

"Even you don't believe that."

"You're right." The wheels in your head turn at full speed, trying to make this as natural as possible. You have to be careful, Jungkook's way too attentive when it comes to you. "Okay, I'll be honest."

He perks up. Face filled with curiosity, as if ready to say I knew it, that something was up, and that you wouldn't leave your job over nothing.

"I'm quitting because…" You gulp. "I want to spend more time with you."

"What?"

"Don't be mad." You add in quickly. "I just thought that I'd get to have more time to spare for you if I wasn't always working."

Eyes closed, he lets out a sigh and drops his head with a little shake. The small smile and amused look in his eyes makes you smile too. “Are you serious? Are you running a fever?” He places the back of his palm against your forehead and then checks the pulse on your wrist.

“I’m fine.” You snatch your hand back.

“The Y/N I know wouldn’t make impulsive decisions like this.” He quirks a brow, “You know you need that job. How else will you pay rent? Get groceries? You don’t ever let me pay for anything.”

“I’ll find a job with less hours.”

“Less hours, less pay.” He lifts your chin up, pouty lips calling him in. “Don’t be silly baby, you’re not leaving your job.”

“Too late.”

“What d’you mean?”

“I...may have...emailed my resignation...earlier on.”

He groans and you cringe when he shoots you a look of disapproval. You give your best kicked puppy look which doesn’t work. “This doesn’t happen often but I’m really mad at you right now.”

“Don’t be.” You scoot closer and when he turns his head away, you move onto his lap, forcing him in an embrace. “I’ll find something.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Go back to work tomorrow and speak to your manager. Tell him you’ve changed your mind.” He asks seriously. “I’ll go and have coffee during every one of your shifts so we’re technically spending time together.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“I’m the silly one?”

“Okay fine, I’m sorry.” You sigh. “I didn’t think things through…”

“You’re damn right you didn’t.” He rests his head in his palm. “So, what are you gonna do now?”

“Spend more time with you?” You inch even closer, if it’s even possible with how you’re already sticking to him like glue. He doesn’t reply right away but squeezes you in his hold, resting his cheek on your head. “Are you still angry?”

“Yes.”

You lift your head off him for a kiss. When he sighs this time, he feels the anger dissipating. At the same time he curses the way his body betrays him when it comes to you. You can barely tell he’s upset with the way he responds so eagerly. The pleased look you give him after has him rolling his eyes. “You can’t be mad at me. I’m cute.”

“True.” He leans back, hands on the grass behind him. “But, we are going to look for job postings online tonight.”

“But mom!” You whine, folding your arms in front of you.

“No buts.”

“Not even my butt?” Blinking innocently at him, you add in a little head tilt until he breaks and starts grinning. “Thought you liked my butt.”

He falls onto the grass, laughing in disbelief and you steady yourself on his chest. “What has gotten into you?” He says, watching as you hover over him. “You’re acting so weird.”

“No I’m not. I’m just happy, like you said.” You kiss him on the nose. “You’re the weird one. Nagging at me about getting a job. Being a responsible adult and stuff.”

He flips over, switching your positions so that he’s hovering over you now. Almost immediately, you’re distracted by how dreamy he looks with the view of the night sky behind him. You run your thumb over one side of his cheek. “You did this to me. Plus I’m just looking out for you.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“Don’t worry. I can pull some strings and get you a job somewhere fun.”

He rolls over to your side and lets you rest your head under his arm, both of you watching the sky. You shift even closer, slinging one leg over his and draw circles on his chest. “Hey I mean, worse comes to worst, I could always come and work for you.”

Surprisingly, he laughs. Really hard. You lift yourself up and rest on your elbow to watch him. “Nice one.” He sighs. Then he notices the way you’re looking at him, face void of expression and brows up in question. “What? You were serious?”

“Slightly offended that you thought it was that funny but yes, I was.”

He raises a brow at you. “You? Want to work at a club? Doing what?”

“Bartender? Cleaner?”

“Don’t even joke about that, our cleaners are our most valuable staff. They clean, sanitise, then double sanitise, wipe up vomit, make sure the booths aren’t lined with nasty fluids.”

Your face twists in horror and he nods, proving his point. “Okay...fine so I’m not qualified enough for that. But bartending? I can do that.”

“No.”

“Why?”

He gets up and you follow. He ruffles the back of his head and dusts of the grains on his hands. “Baby, you’re not working there. I won’t allow it.”

“But𝄖”

“Y/N, I said no.” There was no room to argue, not even cheekily. He didn't raise his voice, but the tone he took was enough. Easing the firm stare he gave you as he said it, he turns his attention to his phone as it beeps.

𝄖𝄖

"Lucky for you, I told the manager you just needed a break to focus on school," Hana yawns, pulling up the blanket to her face, "you can come back anytime."

"You want me to give up?"

"Only because your plan is dangerous."

"Hana, I'm not giving up."

She sighs, turning over to the other side. “Let’s talk tomorrow. I’m tired.”

You push yourself off her bed and sit on the edge, thinking. Quietly, you pull open the drawer by her bed, fumbling around until you feel what you’re looking for. The little paper you tore out of Jungkook’s notebook. When he started sleeping over, you had asked Hana to keep it safe for you. You stare at the address. You hadn’t gotten round to visiting the place, especially since you don’t even know what you’re looking for.

“Turn off the light when you leave, will you?” Hana mumbles half-asleep.

You leave the piece of paper and close the drawer.

𝄖𝄖

Two days later, you’re back at his place. The guys are all over, making sure the house is ready for a party tonight. Each of them were assigned different tasks to settle to save time. When you arrived, Hoseok made sure to separate Jungkook from you, for the sake of efficiency, so you’re stuck in the kitchen with Jimin. Helping him with the cleaning, you listen mindlessly as he rambles on about something. He yells at every guy that enters and tries to steal some snacks but sneaks some into his mouth when no one’s looking.

Just as you’re done wiping down the chip bowls, Jungkook walks in with dark stains all over his shirt and face. He chugs down half a bottle of orange juice from the fridge before opening a bag of gummies placed on the table for the party which has Jimin groaning.

“What happened to you?”

“Car oil needed changing. Cleaned up under the hood too.”

“What?” Jimin shrieks. “You were working on your car this entire time?”

“Yeah?”

“While the rest of us were preparing for the party? Unbelievable!” He huffs, “You were supposed to fix the first floor bathroom⎼”

Jungkook signals for him to stop, holding up a palm. “Fine, I’ll go do it now.” He reaches out for your hand and continues to nod at everything Jimin says as he tags you along, the nagging fading away as you run upstairs.

“You should really go and help out.” You say, plopping down on his bed with a bounce.

Jungkook hums, “I will. Later.”

Sniffing the shirt he has on, he lets out a disapproving grunt. He removes it in one swoop and tosses it into a basket. You watch quietly as he steps closer, eyes fixed on yours. He leans forward and your hands grip the sheets as you lean back, looking at him expectantly. Then his arm moves past your head and reaches for another shirt on the bed, behind you. He snickers and you slap his shoulder.

“I’m leaving.”

“Aw, come on, don’t go.” He jumps into bed and grabs you. He leans on his side, propped up on his elbow, hand on your middle.

“I have to get some groceries.” You play with his hair. “Then I’m gonna freshen up and come back here in time for the party.”

“Great, I’ll drive you.”

“No, you stay. Fix the bathroom.”

“But I don’t want to.” He groans, and rolls over onto you. Almost naturally, your legs wrap around him and he starts kissing your neck, moving down to your chest, pulling down your shirt. You stop him, giggling. “Why do you always wanna leave when we kiss?” He frowns.

“Why do you always kiss me when I’m leaving?”

“‘Cause I don’t want you to leave."

The smell of your skin makes him smile. It smells like...home.

You feel his weight slowly get heavier on you as his body relaxes and melts into yours, nestling his face into your neck. He almost drifts to sleep with the way you’re rubbing his back. When you ruffle his hair, he lifts his head and claims a kiss. “I love you.”

“Love you too. Kookie.”

You giggle as he drops his face in the space between your neck and shoulder. Groaning, he recalls the night Suga found out about the nickname. He has since, constantly used it on Jungkook whenever he can. “He’s never letting that go. Thanks a lot.”

“I’m sorry.” You laugh, chest moving under him. “I was drunk. I didn’t know what I was saying.”

Supporting his weight on one arm, he hovers above you while his free hand brushes past the side of your face. “You don’t remember anything you said that night?”

“No.” That can’t be good. You scan his face. “Why? Did I say something weird?”

“No. Just wondering.” He says gently, expression slowly changing into a smile that makes you forget you were even worried a second ago. “Don’t get drunk anymore. Suga likes you way too much when you’re drunk.”

“Does he?” You laugh, cupping his face. If Suga likes you, you can use this to your advantage. You can’t wait to tell Hana your plan worked.

When Jungkook hears the sound of his name being called from somewhere around the house, he groans and sinks into you again. You push him off you with much difficulty, laughing as he keeps plopping back down into you.

“Okay, they need you. I’m leaving so you can focus. I’ll come back later.” You say, when you finally manage to escape. Reluctantly, he follows behind as you walk down the stairs.

Just as you reach the bottom of the steps, you’re being pulled to the side, against the wall where he corners you into, hands on either side. “I’ll be waiting, so you better show up.” Down your back, up your front, his hands run over your body till they rest just under your jaw, making you lift your chin towards him. Breath hitching in your throat, he carefully brings his lips to yours, teasing a soft touch. Then he lets go.

He smiles like nothing happened and you catch your breath before racing to the front door. You hear a soft chuckle and turn to see him winking at you as he goes in the other direction. Hearing voices from the kitchen where the meeting has started, you quickly close the door behind you, ignoring the pulsing between your thighs.

𝄖𝄖

With a basketful of groceries, you stroll through the store, looking for anything you might have missed out. As you walk, you notice from afar, standing right in front of the refrigerated section your new friend Namjoon. You head straight for him, a little bounce in your step. When you stop right next to him, he turns slowly and carefully.

“Oh. It’s you.” He says as he realises.

“Getting some groceries?” You ask, looking at the shelf then back at him.

“Oh just,” he lifts up a bottle of juice, “getting my orange juice. I see you’re getting your monthly supply. You alone?”

“Yeah I am.” You nod, “My roommate’s busy with school stuff.”

“Right.” He smiles, then it seems like a thought comes to him. “Hey, you’re going for the party tonight right?”

“What? How’d you know about that?” You look at him confused.

“I have friends too you know.”

“But, you can’t come. You’re technically faculty.” You say, putting down your basket to fold your arms in front of you and stare him down. “Are you trying to get us in trouble?”

He chuckles, then points and holds up a finger in front of you. “Actually, I’m an external instructor. So technically, I’m not faculty.”

“How convenient.” You eye him down.

“Fine, fine.” He sighs. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to a party, okay? I just wanna mingle.”

“Hm.” You chew on your bottom lip. Seems genuine enough. You can’t help but wonder if he’s there for something else. How will that go down with Jungkook? “An instructor looking to mingle with his students...definitely no red flags there.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “Come on, I’m not that much older than you. And I’m not that kinda person.”

“That’s what they all say.” You shrug. “Well, I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

“Cool.” He winks. “I’ll see you tonight.”

He walks off way too quickly, like he’s avoiding something and heads straight for the checkout counter. Of course you know why he’d go to a college party; the perfect place to sell his drugs. You can’t figure out if you should let Jungkook know about Namjoon. But then again, he almost always knows what’s going on. And he’d be uneasy knowing you know so much.

You pick up your basket off the floor and head for checkout yourself. Barely making ten steps, you notice someone leaning against the side of a shelf, watching you with his arms crossed, mischievous smile on his face. Your other new friend. How coincidental.

“Suga.” You say, a tone way too excited for his liking but he nods anyway. You walk over to him and stand awkwardly before him, holding your basket with both hands in front of you. “Hi.”

“Hey cutie.” He searches for someone behind you. “Where’s Jungkook?”

“Oh he’s back at home.” You smile. “They’re getting ready for rush week. And the party tonight.”

“Am I invited?”

“Oh, um…” You can tell he’s joking, but you can’t be too sure. How interesting would it be to have Jungkook, Namjoon and Suga in one place. You wonder what would happen if they met.

You chuckle nervously without giving an answer and he shrugs it off. “I was kidding.”

“I guess you can come if you want to.” You say with a tiny shrug. “I’m sure Jungkook won’t mind.”

He changes the subject almost immediately, offering to help you carry your basket, which you politely decline. He walks with you to the counter. “So who was that guy you were talking to?”

Oh, he’s an instructor from school and also the new drug dealer in town. “Oh him? He’s the new self-defense instructor on campus.”

“Really?” He looks amused, and bites his bottom lip in a half-smile. “Cool. And you guys are friends?”

“Yeah. Kinda.” You place your basket on the counter and help the cashier to unload the items to scan. You don’t notice the way Suga laughs silently to himself, shaking his head.

“You know what, I gotta go.” Suga says, walking backwards towards the exit. You don’t even manage to reply to him before he takes off. “Let’s drink again sometime soon!”

𝄖𝄖

Hana is less than pleased to know about your run-ins. She looks at you with daggers in her eyes. “You have to stop this. He obviously knows your plan."

"Stop overreacting. How could he possibly know that?"

She shrugs. The loud music drowns out your voices from being overheard by those around you. "It's hard to believe it was a coincidence running into him.” She says and you sigh, choosing to ignore her.

The last you saw Jungkook, he was laughing away with a group of people. You didn’t want to bother him, he’d be busy anyway trying to get freshies on his side. But it’s been a while and now you don’t see him anywhere.

While Hana mingles, you go off to look for him. In the kitchen, you find Jimin doing shots of something that doesn’t look edible with a bunch of guys cheering him on. But no Jungkook. You peek out on the deck out back but he’s not there either. A hand on the sliding doors, you sigh and step out into the courtyard, breathing in air that doesn’t smell like sweat.

You pause when you step down the stairs and spot something, squinting at the sight of two guys in the far end of the backyard, right by the bush-lined fence. Recognising that jacket, you realise one of them is Jungkook. He then pulls something out of his pocket and shakes hands with the other guy. You turn back before he spots you. Probably just a polite handshake. Maybe with an old friend. Yup.

Step back inside, you’re being stopped by a hand on your arm. “You look flustered.” He says.

“Hi Hoseok.” You force a smile. “It’s warm in here.”

His eyes flicker over to the backyard and back at you. “This is what he does at parties. It’s how he distributes them.”

“So?” You look around uncomfortably.

“I know you don’t like it either.” He stops you before you can reply. “Can you meet me outside in ten minutes? It’s important.”

“You’re already here, what is it? No one’s paying any attention to us anyway.”

“I can’t.”

The sceptical look you give him has him feeling restless. “Trust me, it’s very important.”

From the tone of his voice, he sounds sincere. You don’t want to, but do you want to risk not knowing something that could help you help Jungkook? You hate this. After a long pause, you nod reluctantly. “Fine.”

Neither of you realised the two figures approaching until they’re walking up the steps. Hoseok and you share a look, as if pleading to the other to act normal. As they reach the door, you see now that Jae is the other guy. He greets you as he walks past, then blends into the crowd. Behind him, Jungkook spares you a curious look at the little exchange. He then notices Hoseok’s presence.

“What’s going on?” He looks back and forth at the two of you. “You look upset.”

“Hm? Oh no, I’m fine.” You muster up your best smile. “We were just talking about the guy who puked in the sink earlier.”

“Speaking of which, I should go make sure he’s not puking elsewhere.” Hoseok says, taking his leave.

You can’t tell if Jungkook bought that but he doesn’t question it. His demeanour changes as soon as Hoseok leaves, directing his attention on you. “He wasn’t bothering you, was he?”

“No.” You smile. “I ran into him while looking for some food.”

“Oh⎼”

He doesn’t get a chance to continue when someone he knows slaps him on the back. They chat for a while as he keeps you close next to him, even when you try to pry his fingers off. The other guy drags him somewhere but before he goes, he turns to you. “Grab some food and meet me upstairs, I’ll just be a second.” He winks, stealing a kiss.

“You don’t have to. I’ll just come find you later on it’s fine𝄖”

“You’re not getting rid of me babe.” He jokes and you let out an awkward laugh as he goes.

You haven’t mastered being in two places at once, you’re not a ninja. And in a few minutes, Hoseok will be waiting for you outside. And Jungkook upstairs. You groan, searching the cabinets for some snacks before heading up to Jungkook’s room.

That’s when you notice a familiar blond head among the crowd you. It distracts you. You could’ve sworn that was Suga. But too many people are blocking your line of sight. As you reach the spot you had possibly seen him, he’s gone. You don’t have time to think about this. Swiftly, you run up the steps and head right for Jungkook’s door. And of course, a familiar face exits the washroom on the same floor.

“Namjoon.”

“Why do you look so surprised to see me?” He raises a brow with a playful smile on his face. “I told you I was coming.

You shake your head and look behind you. “Nothing I was just⎼”

“Hogging all the snacks?” He gestures towards the food you’re cradling in your arms and you laugh.

“There’s more downstairs.” You reassure him.

As if on cue, footsteps move swiftly up the stairs and you glance behind to find Jungkook halfway up, a cautious look on his face as he approaches you. Namjoon nods politely. For a moment it’s like you can no longer hear the music blasting, enveloped by the awkward silence.

“Uh, Jungkook this is Namjoon.” You notice the way his jaw clenches as he takes Namjoon’s outstretched hand in his. “And this is Jungkook.”

“The boyfriend. Nice to meet you.” He flashes a blinding smile Jungkook’s way.

“Likewise.”

Namjoon reads the room well and you’re thankful for it. He excuses himself, saving you from having to grease the conversation any further. “See you guys around.” He says, leaving.

Jungkook opens the door for you and you drop the snacks on his table. His fingers immediately wrap around you, lifting you up and throwing you onto the bed. “Finally." He mutters pulling you in.

You giggle nervously as he kisses you all over, pulling away from him. He shoots you a confused look. "Wait I...need the toilet."

He throws his head back but moves aside to let you go. "Okay. I'll wait."

Hurrying out, you close the door and run downstairs, rushing past the sea of bodies to the front door. Once outside, you look around scanning the few faces there for him. Hoseok stands around the corner at the side of the house and calls out your name.

The front and back of the house is well lit, but not the sides. Both of you stand in the shadows by the wall, waiting for him to speak. But he doesn't, instead, he looks around anxiously.

"Hoseok, what is it? You said this is important!" You hiss. "I can't be too long, Jungkook's waiting for me."

"Just give him a second, he'll be here."

"Who?"

"He's here." His eyes focus on a man wearing a navy sweatshirt, hoodie pulled up so you can't really see who it is. He only pulls it down when he joins you in the shadows.

"Hi."

"Y/N, this is Seokjin. He works with my friend."

"Oh. Hello." You watch him curiously. If you could describe a smile as being trustworthy, it would be his.

"Thanks for meeting me," he starts, "I’ll make it quick. It's about a case I'm sure the two of you are familiar with. Actually, I'm here to speak to you, Y/N."

"Me?" You ask, worrying.

"As you know we have an agent working undercover. He's seen you around and since you know about this operation, he’s worried you might get too close, given your relationship with one of the suspects involved. We want to make sure you stay out of it as much as possible."

"But I'm not doing anything to jeopardise the operation."

"We know." He nods, "But still, we have to emphasise that these people are dangerous. You do not want to get involved. You shouldn’t know about this operation in the first place, but nothing we can do about that now.”

Hoseok’s eyes downcast and hands hide in his pockets, knowing he wasn’t supposed to reveal anything to you. “He’s okay right?” He asks softly.

“He’s fine. He personally contacted me to speak with you. And he’s sorry he hasn’t answered his phone, it’s too risky.”

“Who’s this guy again? Do I know him?” You ask.

“You already know too much as it is. I can’t reveal the name of our agent. We can’t risk him getting exposed, it could cost him his life.”

Silence ensues. It’s uncomfortable to think about how someone could literally die from an unfortunate slip of the tongue. You wait for someone to diffuse the tension. Hoseok looks like he’s in thought, opening his mouth to speak then stopping. Seokjin beats him to it. “In case it’s not clear enough, your plan ends here Y/N.”

How does he⎼ oh. So that’s why Hoseok looks troubled. You stare him down and mutter through clenched teeth. “You told him.”  

“I didn’t mean to!” He spits out. “When Seokjin called me earlier, I got reminded of you. I had to tell him. And I know you wouldn’t listen to me anyway, so I got him to come here.”

“Listen. I just want to help Jungkook, that’s all.” You sigh. “I promise I won’t get in the way.”

“I get it. Hoseok’s explained it to me.” It’s Seokjin’s turn to sigh. “Doesn’t matter what your intentions are, it’s best if you stay away.”

You look helplessly over at Hoseok, then reluctantly agree with a nod. “I’ll try.”

“No, you see, this isn’t a request. It’s an order. There is a chance you’ll get convicted as part of the group if you don’t keep your distance. Is that what you want?”

“No. But𝄖”

“Good, so we’re on the same page.”

“No, we’re not.” Huffing, you step closer to him. “I’m not doing this for fun. I’m trying to get my boyfriend out of there.”

“I understand. But there’s no telling what could happen. Let us handle it. If he’s innocent, then you don’t have anything to worry about. The most important thing here is that you don’t end up getting caught up in the mess. Do you really want to be associated with criminals?”

“Jungkook’s not a criminal.”

Seokjin holds up his hands in a surrender. “That’s not what I meant.”

Hoseok gulps, gently touching your arm. “Y/N please. Let them handle it.”

“I am letting them handle it.” You say stubbornly before turning back to Seokjin. “Look, I’m just here for Jungkook. Tell that to your guy. I won’t stand in the way of the operation.”

“You do know that this is all off the record?” Seokjin starts, “That means even though our undercover, as well as I, am aware that you’re not involved, if by any chance you’re caught with drugs or anything illegal at the time of the raid, you might get convicted. There will be no records to show that you’re innocent.”

“I understand.”

“Alright.” Seokjin pulls his hoodie back up. Now you can only faintly see the bottom half of his face. “Take care. Remember, no one else can know about this.”

He takes off in quick steps, round the corner and down the street. Hoseok fidgets in his spot, trying to find the right words. “I didn’t make him do this to scare you or anything. Promise.”

“I know, Hoseok.” You smile softly. “But you get it right? Why I’m doing this?”

“Yeah...” he trails off for a moment, then continues. “You saw him earlier didn’t you?”

“I did.” You shake your head with a sigh, “Trust me okay? I’m doing everything I can to help Jungkook, like you wanted me to.”

“I never wanted this. I don’t want you to get hurt if things don’t go as planned.”

“Whatever happens after, I’ll deal with it then.”

𝄖𝄖

Feeling numb, the walk back upstairs feels like you’re on autopilot, barely hearing the buzzing of the crowd. You take a deep breath before turning the knob of Jungkook’s door, willing yourself to forget the last ten minutes ever happened. He’d read you like a book in this state.

But your bright smile is wasted on an empty room.

“Jungkook?”

𝄖𝄖

The next day, you're sitting on the running track, soaked in sweat after a long session of track and field. The coach bids his goodbye as the team continues their cooling down stretches. Hana plops down next to you. “So?”

“What?”

“You wanna talk about it?” She asks, picking dirt off of your cheek with her thumb. “You seemed really out of it last night. Barely spoke the whole day today…”

“I’m sorry.” You shake your head. “Just thinking.”

You decided not to tell her about Seokjin and everything that was said last night. For now at least. She already has reservations about your plan as it is, telling her about Seokjin would just freak her out even more.

“Jungkook called you yet?”

“Mhm.” Technically it was a text, wishing you good morning with a kissy face emoji. Not wanting to make a big deal out of the night before, you reply as you normally would. “Don’t worry about me, I’m just tired actually.”

She hangs an arm over your shoulder and gives you a side hug. “No more parties for you.”

“Yeah they’re kinda lame aren’t they?” You laugh.

After grabbing your stuff, you’re headed for the locker room. You're too deep in thought to realise the girls on your team giggling around you. It isn't until Hana nudges you then nods to bleachers that you realise your boyfriend is waiting for you. He salutes the other ladies with a winning smile as they walk off, before getting off his butt.

The girls mutter quietly, and you hear the words lucky and they're so cute as they leave you. Hana waves to Jungkook before walking ahead. Jungkook trots down the steps and lifts you in a hug.

“Sorry, I’m sweaty.”

“That’s okay,” he smiles, swaying you side to side, “not the first time I have you all sweaty in my arms.”

“Shut up.”

He laughs, then starts swinging your hands as you walk back. “Hey sorry about last night."

"Oh it’s fine. Don't worry about it." You say, with a shake of your head, looking at the ground. "You're a busy man, I know."

"Can I make it up to you? Tonight?"

"Alright." You nod. "I gotta shower first though. And you have to give me a ride back to get some fresh clothes."

"No need to dress up."

"But I want to." You pout and he chuckles.

The sound of whistling and yelling coming from the field gets your attention. It's the soccer team, practice still ongoing. It only just occurred to you that you haven't seen Jungkook there in a while.

"Why aren't you practicing with them anymore? Did you quit?"

Jungkook looks at you with an amused look on his face. "Y/N, I was never part of the team."

"Huh?" You stop in your tracks. "I'm pretty sure I've seen you on that field running after the ball."

"Yeah but I was never really on the team." He reiterates. Now you're confused. "I only practiced with them so I could watch you during track and field."

"What?"

"Have you forgotten? I'm on the basketball team."

Honestly, you hadn’t made the connection that it’s impossible for him to be on both the soccer and basketball teams until now. "No wait, you joined them just to watch me?"

"Yes and no?" He shrugs proudly. "At first it was because I got kicked off the basketball team. Then we started dating. I got to see you every practice. Then I got reinstated on the basketball team. And I didn't wanna stop seeing you during practice so I kept going. Until now."

"Jungkook that is𝄖"

"Sweet?"

"Lowkey creepy."

He lets out a tiny gasp with a look of betrayal on his face. "But...I wanted to see you."

You laugh at the utter disappointment he shows and pat his face, though it feels like a light slap, before running off making him chase after you.

𝄖𝄖

Laying on the hood of his car, with his arm under your neck, Jungkook listens to you talk about anything and everything. In your favourite spot, parked by the beach so you get the cool breeze and the gentle sound of waves crashing onto the shore.

He enjoys listening to you talk about your life; what your childhood was like, what kind of trouble you used to get into, your family. It’s like peeling off a new layer every time. Who knew you used to bully the bully as a kid? And let’s not forget that time you got detention for smoking in school but you only did it to get your dad’s attention so that he would stop dating the evil girlfriend who threatened to send you off to boarding school.

“Baby are you...a troublemaker?” He muses and you laugh.

“Well I was. I grew out of it.” You shrug and look up at him. “Kinda.”

“Would’ve never guessed. You’re so shy. And good.”

“Yeah. Once I realised how my behaviour was affecting people’s liking towards me, I changed.”

He smiles tenderly at you, always so full of surprises. You play with the hem of his sweater, then look up at him. “What about you? You haven’t told me anything about your past.”

Not once has he shared his own stories. You never asked because you didn’t want to pressure him. But you’re almost out of stories yourself.

Jungkook looks up at the sky for a while. You sense the hesitance. “There’s nothing much to say.”

“What about...your family? Do you have any siblings?”

There’s no reply, only the sound of the waves crashing and a distant laughter from a group of friends on the beach. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.” Propping yourself up on your elbow, you see now the faint sparkle in his eyes. Could be the cool breeze making his eyes water. He blinks it away when you stare. “We can talk about other things.”

He smiles as his eyes scan your face before you’re snuggling into his side again. “I like hearing your stories.”

“But I’ve told you everything.”

“What about your first kiss?”

You groan. “I’ve told you that one. It was during camp. He pushed me into the lake after that because it was all a dare.”

“Oh right and then you threw all his clothes into the lake as revenge.”

“Yeah.” You laugh. “It was pretty funny.”

He laughs thinking about tiny Y/N lugging a big bag full of clothes and dumping it into a lake as the owner yells in horror. Who knew you had it in you. You’re always so calm and by the book, it’s almost like a whole other person.

“Can you tell me about your tattoo?” You look up at him.

He smirks, turning his head to the side towards the arm it’s on. It’s a tiger head on the upper bicep of his right arm. Made up of shapes, lines, squiggles, it has sharp piercing eyes. It’s beautiful, really. “It’s just something to represent my loyalty towards my brothers.”  

You’ve never seen this mark on the other frat boys, so you assume he’s talking about his other group of brothers. “It’s nice. I like it.”

“Mhm.” It’s tough to crack him. He never reveals more than what he thinks you need to know.

After a while, you pluck up the courage to ask him about the job. “Have you thought about what we discussed?” You ask softly, playing with his fingers.

“What did we discuss?”

“About the job,” you remove yourself from him again and this time get on your knees, “about me working at the club?”

He sighs, looking at you like the stubborn teenager in your stories. “I already told you no.”

“You won’t even consider it.” You pout.

He smiles, surprisingly. “After careful consideration, I regret to inform you that you’ve been rejected. You don't have what it takes.”

“Rude!” You huff, “I have all that it takes.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes I do! I’m tough.” You spit out. You strike an awkward pose, doing something weird with your arms. “I have swag.”

It makes him laugh so hard he starts tearing and almost choke on his saliva. Embarrassed, you laugh along, hitting him on his chest. Cheeks hurting from all that, he opens his arms. “Come here you.”

You drop into him, mostly to hide your face in his shoulder. He holds you tight, a content sigh escapes him as he does. “I love you so much.” He says into your ear.

Lifting your head up to face him, he smiles tenderly at you, softly tracing a finger over your face, the lulling movement making your eyes flutter shut.

𝄖𝄖

“You got a problem with me?” Namjoon says to the smaller guy.

Suga smirks bitterly, unimpressed by how the new guy has no respect whatsoever towards him. “I do actually. What’s your deal?”

“What d’you mean?”

“You appear out nowhere, get dispatched to our district. Same area as Jungkook no less...are you trying to replace us?”

“Hey, I didn’t choose the location.” Namjoon shrugs. “Maybe if you guys didn’t suck so bad they wouldn’t have asked me to secure the bags.”

He braces himself as Suga lunges forward, shoving him against the wall, his collar bunched up in clenched fists. Surprisingly strong for a small dude. “You don’t come work for us and talk shit about us to my face.”

Namjoon tugs on his clothes, pulling them out of Suga’s grip. He clears his throat and tries to calm himself. “My bad. Next time I’ll do it behind your back.”

“What are you up to? You took a job on campus, why? Jungkook’s already got that covered.”

“Like I said, I didn’t choose to. I was sent there.” He steps forward, making Suga take a few steps back.

“Liar.”

“Look if you have a problem with it, take it up with the lieutenant.” Namjoon walks off, angering the other guy even more. The nerve of this new kid makes his blood boil. There’s something off about him, there’s no way the bosses would send a new guy in for no reason.

He stomps his way into Kyun’s office, slamming the door behind him. Kyun looks up, sees him, and goes back to his laptop. “What?”

“Don’t you think there’s something wrong with that RM guy?” Suga says, pulling up a chair.

“No. Why?”

“He’s so full of himself.”

“Name one person working here that isn’t,” Kyun says, “besides, you should be thankful I assigned him to you. Jungkook’s been slacking.”

“I told you, the school’s keeping an eye on him. He’s taking it slow.”

Suga can’t remember how many times he’s used that excuse. He can’t come right out and admit that Jungkook has in fact been slacking. Or rather, distracted. Not to mention the time Jungkook considered leaving all of this behind. It’s no surprise the lieutenant’s picked up on it.

“Whatever.” Kyun mutters, obviously tired of having this conversation.

“Wait,” the wheels in Suga’s head turn and he looks curiously at his lieutenant, “you’re not doubting Jungkook are you? Did you send RM in to replace him?”

“If Jungkook’s doing a good job like you seem to think he is, why would you be worried about this?”

Suga purses his lips, “He’s fine. He hasn’t missed any of his shifts. I couldn’t have gotten shit done at the club without him.”

“Numbers are still low though.”

“That’s because you’ve got the new kid stealing all his buyers.”

“RM’s good and the staff there seem to trust him. He stays.”

“Fine. Then get off Jungkook’s back about his numbers. He can’t sell drugs the same as before if you have another dealer there competing with him.”

Kyun thinks about it for a minute, then nods. “Alright fine. Anyway, it’s good that you’re here now. I can run through what boss wants you to get up and running at the club.”

It hits Suga that Kyun having doubts about Jungkook is bad news, at least, if word travels up the hierarchy. While Jungkook had promised to keep up, Suga intends to make sure he actually does. He can’t afford anymore slip-ups. Or distractions, in the form of you. He can’t let anything happen to Jungkook.

𝄖𝄖

Sneaking back into the house at such an ungodly hour, you guide Jungkook in the dark, careful not to make a sound.

Back in your room, his jacket and shirt are the first to go. He lifts you up and carries you to the bed, lips not parting from each other.

Slipping under your shirt, he unhooks your bra and pulls your shirt with it over your head. Lips smiling on yours, his hands knead your breasts and you feel your nerves reacting. He trails wet kisses down your front, fingers undoing your jeans and pulling them off in a single swoop.

He removes his own pair of jeans, leaving him in his boxers. Then, kneeling by your legs, he gently peels your panties off, taking in the view of your naked body, lighted up by the warm yellow of your nightlight. If he could, he’d engrave this image of you in his head.

His eyes wide and lustful, they trail over you. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispers.

Hovering above you, he strokes the side of your face, before pressing his body to yours in a soft gentle kiss. He moves so gently, like you could break at any moment. When your hands wrap around his neck, he grabs hold of your wrists, pinning them above your head. You let out a soft whimper.

Jungkook takes his time, showering your skin with kisses. Starting from your neck down to your navel. He licks one side of your breast, teasingly drawing circles with his tongue along the nipple, then gives the same attention to the other. Your breathing gets hitched in your throat, feeling the blood rush down south.

He brings his mouth lower, hands now occupying your breasts where his mouth was. It sends you butterflies the way his hot breath brushes against your skin. There’s something different about the way he’s touching you tonight.

He spares some kisses down your inner thighs and watches the way goosebumps appear as they try to clam up reflexively.

Hands on your thighs, he pushes them apart and runs a teasing lick over your folds. Then his tongue finds its way to your clit, flicking it gently before his lips wrap around it and he starts gently sucking. You jolt and take in a sharp breath grabbing a fishful of the sheets.

His fingers delicately touch your folds, running a teasing finger over your entrance. Looking up from between your thighs, he watches the way you steady your breaths, eyes closed, brows furrowed.

It doesn’t last long and when you open your eyes, he’s hovering over you, licking his lips. Very eagerly you pull down the hem of his boxers, exposing his hard cock. His own fingers wrap around it, stroking himself gently as he reaches for a bottle of lube. He stares at you with a look you can’t read.

“Something on your mind?” You voice out.

He shakes his head with a gentle smile and takes his position between your legs, your thighs over his. Aligning himself with your entrance, he grips your ankles on either side. Slowly, he enters and you will yourself not to make a sound at the initial stretch.

Jungkook keeps a steady pace, watching intently the way he moves in and out of you. You can’t help but to stare at him and the way his abs clench every time he moves his hips into you. The flexing of his arms every now and then, keeping your legs steady. And the way the warm light casts shadows dancing over his body as he moves.

“Jungkook.” You call out for him, so softly.

He releases your ankles and leans forward, resting his body on yours. Pressing his forehead to you, he admires the look of lust in your eyes and the way you’re biting your bottom lip. “Yes, my love?”

Your fingers run over his face. You’re too occupied with the pleasure of him inside you that your brain refuses to put your thoughts into words. He chuckles when you only manage a breathy smile instead.

Your wrists get pinned over your head once again, and he watches you from above. Every thrust is deep and filling, his hips moving expertly to give you just the right amount of pleasure, leaving you a hot mess beneath him.

You look absolutely breathtaking to him; the parting of your lips, eyes shut and shaky breaths. Your breasts bounce with every thrust and your chest rises and falls with every breath you take. He lets out a low guttural sound and presses his body to yours, devouring your lips in a passionate kiss.

His hips pick up speed, grinding into you with calculated moves. You get lost in each other, a mixture of your quick breaths filling the room. The look in his eyes is mirrored in yours, waves of emotions flowing between both your bodies and soul.

Jungkook can’t describe his feelings for you. It’s something he hasn’t felt in a long time; warmth, love, trust, acceptance. All he knows is to tell you he loves you and hopes you get it.

Your eyes get misty as you let your own emotions get to you, feeling the twinge in your chest when you look at him.

Arms wrapping around his waist, your tongues dance between your lips. He knows all the right spots to leave you breathless. You feel it building in the pit of your stomach, and pull away from the kiss, no longer in control of your actions.

Jungkook feels it too, sensing the pressure between your hips as they wrap tightly around him. He steadies himself and gives you long, deep strokes, as he watches your breaths get quicker. The euphoric look on your face earns a grunt of approval from him.

Not wanting to hold back any longer, his hips grind into yours at a quicker pace, feeling himself reaching his release. His mouth latches on to your nipple, sucking it for a second before he hears small whines leaving you, signalling you’re close.

Willing yourself to keep your eyes open, you place a hand on the side of his face, making sure his eyes stay on yours. It gets blurrier with the way tears start to fill your eyes. “I love you.” You blurt out in a whisper and he rests his forehead on yours as he thrusts hard, one which makes your insides squirm.

Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat as he watches you. A single tear rolls down the side of your face as you start to reach your high. “I love you Y/N.”  He breathes out against your lips before capturing you in a kiss. With one hard thrust, you find yourself succumbing to the pressure in your middle, unravelling a wave of pleasure that courses through your entire body, chest rising towards him and hands keeping him close.

Watching you, he reaches his own climax, hips bucking wildly into yours, and you feel his warm release spilling inside you, his moans lost in the kiss. It takes a while before his hips slow down into a gentle rhythm. Your body goes limp as you ride it out, drained of energy.

He catches his breath with his head on yours and when you finally catch each other’s eyes, you share a giggle. He shines in his afterglow, a look of pure bliss on his face. But he could say the same for you, thumb running over your cheek to wipe off the tear stains.

In that moment, it feels as if you’re staring right into his soul. He stares back at you, as if trying to say something more than what’s been said, worrying once again about conveying what’s in his heart. But you just smile back.

“I know, Jungkook. I know. I love you too.”

#jungkook fics #networkbangtan #kwritersworldnet #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #rainworks #my #hope you like it :(

[avengersassemble-fics]

Stark’s Girl

Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader

Summary: Tony Stark is a good man. He has lost his entire family yet lives his life devoting himself to helping others. Steve Rogers never knew the secret that Tony has kept since his parents death long ago, but it finally comes out, and everything makes a little more sense. Things change for the billionaire, playboy, philanthropist when someone he thought long gone, has been alive this entire time. And Steve has to learn how to keep his secret from everyone around him, without hurting those he cares the most about.

word count 3.4k

an: wow hey lol yes another steve fic, but different then i’ve done before. did the reader go through trauma? yes. but i still want her to appear strong. in control. for now aha. hope you enjoy!

part 01/015 “two peas in a pod”

next part

If you knew Tony Stark then you knew there was one thing that you could not talk to him about. And that was anything having to do with his family. If you even tried to mention anything about that fateful day in 1991, Tony would leave and ban them from ever interviewing him again.

Especially if they tried to mention his younger sister. God forbid anyone tried that.

“No, we’re done here,” he’d say before walking off the set, his team (Pepper at the time and Happy) would follow behind him, and that reporter would never step near Tony Stark ever again.

Tony never spoke of his family, to anyone, besides maybe Pepper as their relationship developed. But it was December now, and Tony’s demeanor seemed to change the more the month passed. He grew more quiet, not being as snappy as he normally was, and secluded himself from group activities. This time around, he was focused heavily on work, and the other Avengers only saw him when there was a mission on hand. Recently, with the news that Hydra was embedded deep within SHIELD, that’s what they were being sent out to do: take out Hydra bases.

Steve Rogers was concerned for his friend. He had only seen Tony this way once before, but what he couldn’t figure out was why he would get like this. One day, he tried to ask Natasha about it. She shook her head, and told him not to ask, especially don’t ask Tony. He understood, but the information finally let itself out one night.

The Avengers tower was home to a few people on the team when they were in New York. One night, in the early morning of December 16th, there were loud crashes coming from the common area. When Steve came down the stairs, a glass cup flew into the wall between the two elevators on the floor. It shattered, rippling in the air as Tony was going on a tangent.

“How could, how could that even happen! The car losing control my ass,” he slurred. Pepper was there as well, trying to calm him down, but Tony paced back and forth in front of her. Pepper’s eyes met Steve and she extended a hand out for him to stop where he was. Steve stopped his movements, staying on the stairs, Natasha had ended up behind him, watching in silence.

“My parents they didn’t,” he hiccuped, “they didn’t have to take her with them! I said I could, I could take care of her.” Tony paused for a moment, looking into Pepper’s face. Pepper could see the tears in his eyes, but Steve would never admit that he could as well.

“If my father had just listened to me, she’d be here with me. She’d be alive, Pepper.” the last part kind of came out as a whisper. She said something quietly to him, and Tony let himself fold into her arms, and soft cries filled the room. Natasha placed her hand on Steve’s shoulder, motioning for him to follow her back upstairs, away from the scene unfolding before them.

That was when Steve learned that Howard and Maria had also had a little girl, who was with them when the crash happened. She was only fairly young when the crash happened. Natasha told him that Tony and his sister were really close when Tony was home from his schools, two peas in a pod, at least that’s what she read in the past, not that Tony would ever speak of it. Natasha also told him that if he were ever to mention it, the outcome would not be good.

Steve looked into it a bit more, and with each piece of information his heart dropped further into his stomach. Howard and Maria welcomed you into the world as a healthy baby girl, and Tony was seen carrying you into the family home a few days later. Over the next few years as Tony grew older and went to several ivy league schools, he would come home most of the press that was released was of him spending time with his little sister, whose face was blurred in every photo. They were extremely close. Steve had to close his computer, and try and move on with his day with that information running rampant in his head. He could never tell Tony about that day in 1991. For Tony’s sake.

It was spring now, Tony returned back to his normal self but now knowing what he knows, Steve looked at him a little differently. From what he read, he had never seen Tony as intimate with anyone before (with no offense to Pepper), and that changed some of the things he said to his friend.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Tony said, snapping Steve out of his thoughts.

“I’m not looking at you in any way,” he replied earning a grin from the man close to him.

“You look like you’re falling in love with me, but you’re too scared to admit it because I’m your boss. Have you ever seen Two Weeks Notice?”

Steve shook his head a slight smile crossing his lips. They were headed on a quick mission, get in, get out, and kick some Hydra ass, they as in Steve, Tony, Natasha, and Sam. This was their third base this month alone, but with the rate they were going there weren’t going to be many left in the Hydra channel.

“Alright boys, we’re reaching the drop point in a few minutes,” Natasha said from the front of the quinjet. Tony was quick to release his buckle from his body, and stood to move near his suit.

“Well that’s my cue,” Tony commented walking backwards into his suit, “try not to miss me too much Steve,” his words turned more automatic as he stepped back into his suit and it closed around him. Steve rolled his eyes, and Tony shockingly put his hands over his heart as if he was shocked. But then he wiggled his fingers at him, and Natasha opened the back of the plane and Tony dropped out of it flawlessly.

“He’s in a good mood today”, Sam commented, as he was strapping his Falcon wings on.

“He sure is,” Steve replied, and nodded at his new friend who followed Tony’s lead, disappearing into the air.

“I’m bringing her down,” Nat called over the wind. Steve released himself from his constraints and slid his helmet over his eyes. He took the time to tighten his gloves as Natasha lowered the plane to the ground. There was gunfire nearby, some ricocheting off the metal exterior. 

“Always making a mess, you boys,” she said in a joking manner, walking past Steve ready to fight. 

It was supposed to be an easy job. Get in, get out, take out the bad guys. That was always Tony’s tag line for these kinds of missions. This time though, there were more Hydra agents than anticipated, which could only mean one thing.

They were hiding something.

“These guys are really starting to piss me off,” Tony commented over their com links, and without hesitating, “Jarvis claims there to be possible hostage inside.”

“Romanoff and I will storm the building,” Steve managed between throws of his shield, ricocheting off an enemy and back to him, “watch our backs until we give you word to join us.”

“Sure thing, Cap,” Sam replied in his ear. Natasha nodded her readiness to Steve, and he kicked the door in, using his shield to cover them. He moved first, each foot softly moving in front of the other. They were like lions looking for their prey.

The first man that tried to come around the corner, Nat was on him like a predator. Her moves were swift and like fluid, knocking them out and leaving them on the ground. But they pressed on, glancing around corners before making their moves. They needed to find the hostages and get out of there. Carefully, Steve moved into the door frame of a room.

The lights flickered, and there were shuffling noises deeper inside. Steve narrowed his eyes as he tried to focus on the shadows, Natasha behind him felt the wall for any sign of a light switch.

“Bingo,” her sweet voice said, pressing it on and the lights coming to light. As their vision adjusted, Steve lowered his shield a bit. His gaze was on three individuals. Each cowering around one another, they had their arms wrapped around their legs and into their chests. He looked back at Natasha, and nodded for her to proceed. She seemed to be good in these cases. Nat put her gun back into her holster and moved around Steve and edged to them slowly.

“Target acquired, you can join us,” Steve radioed to everyone else.

“I’m thinking we should do Chinese after this, anyone else?” Tony asked in everyone’s ear. Steve shook his head, replacing his shield onto his back.

“We can talk about it later, Stark.”

Natasha was busy trying to get close to the three people on the floor, who had all but pressed themselves into the wall they were against. She could only focus her attention on one at a time, but Steve kept an eye on them as well from a distance.

Tony and Sam joined them shortly after. Tony’s suit opened automatically as he rubbed his wrists cooly.

“SHIELD eta is three minutes, hope you’re making progress over there Romanoff,” Tony expressed, earning a glare from the red head.

“Shut up, Tony.” she replied.

She had wrapped a blanket around one, who had finally averted their eyes from the ground and met hers. She promised each one a life of peace now. They were there to help. The last one she edged towards, was pressed against the wall, knees scooped to their body. Hair laid all around their face, covering their face from her view. What Natasha didn’t know was they could see everything.

Natasha tried to peer into the curtain of hair, hearing faint words leaving their mouth. But with Tony’s incessant talking, she couldn’t make it out.

“Guys-” he called over her shoulder, not earning a response. She glared and spun around on the floor.

“Guys!” she exclaimed, making the three men jump. They looked her way and saw her scowl, and mumbled apologies. She turned her attention back to the third hostage.

She could see the outline of a face now, they had lifted their head slightly. Eyes peered ahead past her, focused on something or an object behind her back. She could make out lips moving, and she tried intently to listen.

Bubba. Bubba. Bubba.

Was Natasha hearing that right?

“Bubba,” she repeated, and the voice she once heard fell silent. But someone behind her stirred.

“What did you say?”

Tony had stepped forward, earning a look from Steve and Nat turned around to look over her shoulder.

“They’re saying bubba, it’s a term mainly used in the south which means-”

“Brother,” Natasha and Tony said at the same time. Steve had never seen Tony so pale in the face. Natasha’s eyebrows were furrowed in a brow before her head snapped back to the source of the voice. Her bottom lip trembled a bit as she looked back to Tony. He had taken a number of steps towards the cowering person, and Natasha backed away.

“Oh my God,” Steve mumbled to himself, watching it all unfold.

Tony kneeled before them, careful of his next movements. His forehead felt hot and his hands were trembling. But he couldn’t deny the tiny word that filled air between them.

Bubba.

Tony was careful with his trembling hand he reached forward, his hand gently moving the person's hair. He was holding his breath as he did, pushing the hair back as he tried to get a look at their face. Their face would tell him everything he needed to know. His hand was nearly cupping their cheek now, and the person let him lift their face up.

Tony gasped. He stared at a face he hadn’t seen in years. He was starting to worry that he would have forgotten what they had looked like. Their eyes had locked with his, the same beautiful color he could remember from his teenage years, but filled with fear and tears. He quickly placed his other hand on their cheek, rubbing his thumbs along their skin.

“(Y/N),” he breathed out. A tear fell down your face, and he pulled you into his arms. He crumpled to the ground and let you sit in his lap, cradling your head on his shoulder. Behind him the rest of the team looked on, Natasha had her hand over her mouth and Sam looked on in bewilderment. Steve on the other hand was quick to take one of the blankets they were using to wrap the hostages and made his way over to Tony. He also was watching your movements. Most of your face was hidden by Tony’s shoulder, but he could see your eyes staring straight ahead and brimmed with tears. As he approached your eyes shot to him, and Steve nearly faltered. Your (e/c) struck him heavily, filled with something other than sadness and the only word he could describe it was deadly.

You detached yourself from Tony as Steve came near, hunkering back to press against the wall. One knee was pressed to your chest while the other kneeled to the ground, watching Steve’s movements. Tony quickly grabbed the blanket from Steve’s hands, and the sound of SHIELD arriving behind them filled the empty halls.

“It’s going to be okay,” Tony whispered, and placed the blanket around your shoulders.

-

Tensions had never been that high. Not since SHIELD fell.

Because of the victims they found, they had to be brought to a safe SHIELD facility to begin reconditioning. That’s what they called the process of beginning to heal these people from the torment they had to endure. When they would get onto the large quinjet (a bus they said), the victims were carefully given a sedative, and would sleep for the next day. That gave the agents time to put them into their own rooms and check every vital sign that they could run. Assess their health and try to find out who they are.

When they would wake up someone (a psychologist or similar) would go in and start talking to them, and analyze their reactions. From there, they hoped to learn anything about what had happened to them, and try and rehabilitate them.

But in this case, Tony wanted to be apart of every step. The doctors on the other hand thought it would be best to have someone else go in when you first woke up. Tony would then call them an idiot and Steve or Natasha (most of the time both) would have to step in and calm him down.

“Tony you have to listen to them,” Nat would say.

“How is someone else going to evaluate my sister? I know her better than anyone else,” he replied.

“But Tony.. She’s gone through an extremely traumatic event, she isn’t going to be the exact same.” Steve would remind him.

Tony would then get frustrated and storm away. Several hours into the ordeal and Pepper was arriving on the scene. Tony and her were alone for a few hours, well into the night and weren’t seen again until the morning. The next time Steve saw him was before you were expected to awaken, and Tony looked tired. But in all honesty so was Steve. Neither had slept all night.

“I’ll only agree to this on one condition,” Tony said. The doctor looked annoyed but allowed him to continue, “I want Steve to be the one to talk to her.”

Steve stood a little straighter at that. He wasn’t 100% surprised but he was still taken aback. He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

“Of course Tony,” he replied and Tony smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks, Rogers.”

Inside the room you slowly awoke, eyes fluttering open as you fought your way out of the sleepiness. The room was bright, making you quint for a moment as you regain your composure. You sat up fully, almost robotically as someone on the other side of the mirror would note, and the blanket that was covering you fell. You looked down at the clothing you were in, a long sleeved shirt and some soft pants, and you threw the blanket off the rest of your body. You didn’t like unfamiliar places. You carefully swung your legs over the edge of the bed and pushed yourself to stand.

The last 48 hours were still a bit hazy. You had returned from an intel mission, being ushered inside to the dark and dank building and into interrogation. They believed that you had blown your cover and contacted someone from your past. They knew who you were, and you knew as well. But you wouldn’t dare try that. You weren’t stupid. You were always watched when they sent you out. No matter what you collected from them, or who you killed for them - there was never to be trust in your case.

But who would blame them. If you were alone, you would have tried to flee back to America in all honesty. They had tortured you for hours before throwing you in with the others. Each cowering against that wall as you were all watched. And that’s when the attack happened. But you truly never expected to see Tony.

You turned around the room, wondering where he was. Your thoughts were cut short when the door opened suddenly, startling you. You were quick to hunker back onto the bed, in that crouched position and protecting your back by pushing against the pillow on the bed. Your eyes locked with the man who walked in.

Tall, broad, and handsome. But a stranger in ways. You didn’t know him personally, but could remember the stories your father would tell Tony and you when you were younger. He walked in and it felt like he could command a room, and he did. His eyes didn’t break your gaze either as he made his way to a chair on the other side of the room. He sat down, hunching forward to rest his elbows on his legs.

“How are you feeling,” he asked first. You had never been asked that. Your eyes scanned him up and down, he noticed easily, not that you tried to hide that. You were assessing him. He knew that. You chose not to answer. He didn’t let that affect him though.

“My name is-”

“Steve Rogers,” you finished. He nodded, hearing your voice fully for the first time. It was distinct, strong in a way he didn’t know how yet, but laced with something sweet. He nodded at you though.

“Do you know who you are?” he asked.

Your eye twitched a bit, a reaction you couldn’t control. You broke your eye contact with him to glance at the two-way mirror and then to your hands. One laid on your leg that was close to your chest, and the other on your thigh. You didn’t answer but nodded in response.

“What’s your name,” Steve pushed. You shook your head ironically.

“(Y/N) Stark,” you said, and looked back up to meet his eyes, “I could never forget.”

Steve nodded, sitting back in the chair and motioned a hand to you, “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“Not particularly, but I don’t have much of a choice do I?” You asked. Steve didn’t reply to this, instead he threw a glance at the two way mirror as if searching his reflection for an answer. You moved to criss cross your legs to sit more comfortably, and grabbed the pillow to place in your lap. Steve’s eyes met yours again but this time they looked different. 

They looked vulnerable. You inhaled and sighed deeply and cast your eyes down to the ground, and Steve leaned forward and rested his arms on his legs. He wanted to show he was listening and that you could trust him, but a part of him knew that you may not feel that right now, but he wanted someone else to know that. Someone on the other side of the glass. The two people in this quiet room had the same objective. They wanted to show Tony that they could be strong for him.

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #tony stark #tony stark x reader #stark!reader #avengers #avengers fic

[jumbojamba47]

I Love You

Pt. 2 of Guest Room

A/N: Thank you for loving my little ball of garbage enough to warrant a second part. I’m feeling warm and fuzzy. Also... I kinda.. sorta.. really got carried away with this. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry. Shout out to my irl friends who had to deal with my gleefully rubbing my grubby little paws together all day. 

A/N PT. 2: TUMBLR QUIT BEING A BITCH AND JUST LET ME UPLOAD MY STORY IN PEACE PLEASE I’M BEGGING YOU. The last try uploaded to my main and my stomach dropped out of my ass lmao. Fifth and hopefully final time. (I’m so sorry for the notifications spam for everyone I tagged)

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Stucky 

Warnings: 18+, Angst (like so much I’m sorry), Smut, Swearing, Mentions of Alcohol Consumption

Word Count: 5702

Hollow. It’s the only way she can describe the feeling of deep-seated emptiness that settles in her as she watches the quinjet disappear in the distance. What’s that noise? She casts her eyes around her surroundings when she suddenly feels a dampness on her collarbone. Reaching up a hand, she feels moisture on her face.

Oh.

The sounds were coming from her. At the realization of her sobs, pain wracked her frame with nowhere to go.

What was she thinking?

She wasn’t.

When she left Clint in a hurry, she hadn’t even paused to consider what she would say to you if she caught you. What did she feel for you? What could she have told you? Her life conditioned her to believe love was for children. She wasn’t one.

And yet…

She couldn’t deny that there was something about you that always drew her in to you. Every hidden interaction with you pulled onto all five of her senses demanding her full attention until there was only you in front of her; drawn straight into your orbit like a moon of Saturn. Each and every private encounter made it more difficult for the hardened assassin to pull herself away from you only to act unaffected by your presence in public.

Was that love?

It doesn’t matter.

You were sunlight. You were the warm embrace of home calling out to every damaged member of this family seeking acceptance for their past sins and a place to belong.

And she?

Well, she was damaged beyond repair.

She refused to be the one to tarnish your light. And she knew, if she gave in to her weaknesses, you could never really shine. You meant too much to the team. To her. A part of her could also admit to fear. Fear of what would happen if she hurt you.

If you hurt her.

She could live with never knowing what it felt like to call you hers. To hear you whisper her name in the early morning light your sweet features the first things she lays eyes on in your shared haven.

But she knew. She’d never recover if she could have you and lose you. If she were to tear her walls down, only for you to look inside and decide it wasn’t worth it.

That she wasn’t worth it.

With a steely resolve in her eyes, Natasha turned on her heels and began to make her way back towards the gym. She had a few weeks to get her head screwed on straight. She’ll lock away and bury anything she might have felt for you if given the chance. When you’re back, she’ll apologize for the hurt she’s caused you and maybe, just maybe, you’ll let her stay a part of your life.

If, along the way, she refuses to let her mind wander to thoughts of you with someone else, well, that’s her prerogative.

xxxx

You sit in heavy silence on the quinjet. Thoughts of last night’s interactions with the red-headed assassin plaguing your mind. You still feel a pang of pain when you remember her rejection. With a mental shake of your head, you resolve to table your emotions for now to focus on the mission at hand.

You’ve been tasked with leading a team to infiltrate an underground drug trafficking ring disguised as a bi-monthly art auction. Once you arrive at your destination, you’ll be allotted two months of integration and data retrieval before another team of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents will be sent in to assist in the take down. You’re leading the team with Scarlet Witch and Falcon following your lead. Agent Hill was chosen to tag along strictly for backup and onsite supervision should the worst come to pass.

Sam and Maria sit up front; you can hear the sounds of quiet banter trickling back towards you while they try to respect your privacy, believing you to be mentally preparing yourself for the road up ahead. Wanda sits opposite you. Your emotions scream at her from across the jet, but she has the decency not to read your actual thoughts.

Still, she can’t help the concerned glances she sends your way.

Noticing her attention on you, you shift your body to turn towards her.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“I could ask you the same. Where did you disappear to last night? I tried to find you after you were pulled away by Natasha, but I couldn’t find you.”

You let out a soft sigh.

“I’m sorry. My heads been a mess lately. I didn’t mean to leave you on the dance floor like that. It was a rough night.”

A hand rises to nervously play with the hair on the back of your neck. You look to the floor.

“I also owe you a bit of an apology for how carried away I got last night. You’re amazing Wan, and I don’t want to lead you on in any way.”

She lets out a light laugh.

“Don’t worry about it, draga mea. We were just two friends who had a little too much to drink, having a little fun. No hard feelings whatsoever.”

You wince and she instantly knows that was the wrong thing to say.

“You know, I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener. Pietro used to say it’s because I had big ears when we were children.”

She reaches out a hand across the aisle to let it rest on your knee. After an internal debate, you decide to divulge everything to her. From your first interactions with the assassin and your instant connection to the fallout from last night.

Listening patiently, Wanda’s eyes widen slightly when you mention what the events that occurred in the ex-soviet’s room.

By the end, Wanda is livid with righteous indignation on your behalf.

“Well, she’s a fool for letting you go.” She squeezes your leg.

“I can’t claim to understand what’s going through her head, but you have to know her feelings aren’t a reflection on your worth. You are the glue that holds this team together and we all love you. Natasha, she…” she pauses, “she’s been through much. More than any of us will ever know. Her experiences have closed her off. But you’re both strong. Maybe you’re not meant to be, but I know you can bounce back from this. We have a few weeks before we’re due back and, in that time, I guarantee you we can get your spirit back up and bouncing like usual.”

“Damn right, we can!” You hear Sam interrupt from the front of the plane.

You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and let out a light laugh.

Yeah, things weren’t okay.

But maybe they will be.

xxxx

The mission goes off without a hitch and it does wonders for your confidence. As soon as you landed at the safehouse, you and your team had set to work securing the perimeter and preparing for your upcoming roles in the undercover mission. Sam moved first, infiltrating the ranks of the dealers as he uncovered the hierarchy of the operation and fed maria intel to pass on to headquarters. You and Wanda were posed as a wealthy young couple from new money, tasked with getting close to the heads of the drug ring in order to gain access to the final auction where you ultimately took down the entire operation with the aid of several agents.

Despite the smooth execution, you all still found yourselves with extra downtime between stakeouts and it led to the four of you growing closer. One of your favorite pastimes became group binge-watches of The Fairly Odd Parents and Wanda had taken to calling you Cosmo, the husband of her cartoon namesake.

           “ETA: 5 minutes,” called out Hill.

From your seat, you could see the compound looming over the horizon. You take in a nervous breath and release.

Next to you, Wanda can feel your apprehensive tension and takes a moment to give your hand a firm squeeze.

“You’re okay, Cosmo. Remember our talks. You have strength. You know your worth. You’ll be fine.”

You send her a grateful smile and a nod. Your fingers squeeze her back briefly before you move to stand by the doors of the ramp as you hear the jet begin to touch down.

She’s right. During your time away, you came to terms with the fact that it’s not Natasha’s fault that she doesn’t feel the same way as you do. You know you have no control over other people’s feelings, and you owed it to the both of you to face this head on, maturely.

As soon as the jet’s ramp meets the floor of the hangar, you’re met with a wall of pure muscle that really should come with a warning label. Your feet are lifted off the ground and suddenly you’re swinging in circles. You laugh as Bucky’s long hair tickles your nose.

Wait a second.

Is that?

“James Buchanan Barnes. Put me down this instant.”

He stiffens. That’s his name. That’s who he is. He is James Buchanan Barnes. Former sergeant and integral member of the Howling Commandos. The Winter Soldier. Melted down and reforged by Hydra. He was a legend. He was a nightmare. He was feared. He was… terrified.

Christ. Hearing his full name falling out of your mouth in that tone never failed to instill the fear of God into him. Not even his ma, bless her soul, could quite measure up to the intimidating aura you exuded when he knew you were ready to tan his hide.

You stood before him, hands on your hips, feet shoulder width apart, stance strong, eyebrow peaked… and deadly.

“Did you break into my room and steal my hair mask… again?”

The others stand back, watching in amusement while he starts to sweat.

“D-doll, of course not! You explicitly told m-me your room was off limits while you were go-”

You cut him off as you step closer.

“Don’t you lie to me, Barnes,” your eyes narrow and he gulps when you push your face closer to his.

“I can smell the macadamia oil, you heathen.”

Just as you’re about to launch into a lecture about respecting other people’s belongings, you’re interrupted by the sound of Steve’s voice.

“You gotta admit, at least it’s better than smelling the greasy mop he always ends up with after training.”

Your entire demeanor lightens up as you whip around to take a running leap at your favorite Man with a Plan.

“STEVIE!”

He catches you in his arms. “Good to have you back, sugar. We missed you around here.”

You hear a soft exhale of relief come from behind you.

Tilting your head back from where you’re perched in Steve’s arms, you narrow your eyes at Bucky and make a silent gesture to indicate you’re watching him. This is far from over.

He gulps.

“Well, c’mon then, we’re all dying to hear how the mission went. The others are waiting for you in the lounge.”

You stay wrapped around your friend’s dorito shaped torso but make the effort to wriggle your way around him so you’re clinging to his back like an infant koala. He rolls his eyes but does nothing to deter you, choosing to move his arms in support of your legs instead.

“Onward, my trusty steed!” you giggle.

As one, you all make your way towards the main common area, taking the time to drop off your luggage in your respective rooms as you go. Eventually, you make your way to the lounge and as you’re carried in, F.R.I.D.A.Y. blasts the loud trumpets of a herald through her speakers.

Huh, Tony must’ve upgraded her sense of humor.

Greeting the others, you use your hands in Steve’s hair like an oversized rat with a penchant for cooking to guide him towards your favorite lounge chair. Sam and Wanda move towards the kitchen to look for the good snacks they couldn’t have undercover while everyone else gathers around the remaining lounges.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Natasha hovering off to the side near Clint but you can’t quite get yourself to make eye contact yet. You wait for everyone to settle in. Wanda approaches you with two mugs of tea in her hands offering you one with a “just the way you like it, Cosmo”. It’s punctuated with a wink and she perches herself on the arm of your seat, bringing her own around to rest across the back. Her hand finds its way to your hair playing with a few strands to keep you grounded while you purposefully train your eyes away from a certain side of the room.

Wanda really did become your rock in the weeks away. While you never repeated anything from the night of your party, you fell into an easy companionship with the young mutant that led to you each being comfortable around the other. She knew how hard your return would be for you and made it her next mission to make sure you knew you had a solid support system in place.

Seeing the close interaction between the two of you, Bucky and Steve both shoot you cheeky grins and eyebrow wiggles that have you holding up a throw pillow just under Wanda’s current line of sight. She glances down, smirks and hurls the pillow at the two men using her powers, ensuring she adds a boomerang effect to ricochet off the face of one in order to hit the other stunning both of them.

“Nice!” You give her an enthusiastic high five as she wiggles her fingers at the recovering men.

“I just learned that one on the job. I have to keep practicing for muscle memory.” She states in a faux haughty tone while you snicker at the indignation on your Brooklyn Boys’ faces.

Across the room, Natasha watches you. She knew she missed you while you were away, but nothing could have prepared her for the onslaught of emotions that crashed into her when she finally laid eyes on you after weeks apart. You still had the same mischievous spark in your eyes. Your nose still crinkled just the slightest bit when you laughed. Your smile could still light up an entire room like the Fourth of July.

God, she missed you.

She watches your raucous banter with the resident super-soldiers with a fond smile teasing the corners of her lips. She takes note of the casual arm slung across your shoulders, the hand tangled in your hair, and something inside of her burns. Her jaw clenches.

She’s not yours to have.

Clint nudges her shoulder with a pointed look. She realizes she’s been emitting a soft growl. Focus Romanoff! Where is your training? She strains but ultimately fixes her posture until she’s the posterchild for casual aloofness. Her best friend snickers but chooses not to comment on the slight rigidity he can see in her shoulders.

Tony claps his hands to gain everyone’s attention.

“Alright alright, Hermione’s new parlor tricks aside, we all know why we’re really here.”

In his best imitation of Fury’s gruff voice, he growls out, “Hill. Debrief report. Judgement on (y/hero/n)’s execution?”

Rolling her eyes but playing along, “All objectives executed to perfection. Leadership skills exemplary, sir!” she tosses in a mock salute.

It’s quiet before everyone breaks into cheers and congratulate you and your team on a successful job well done. You’re beaming when you hear Sam chime in with, “You better watch out Cap. (Y/l/n) could give you a run for your money as team captain. We might be shipping you to a retirement home sooner than we thought.

Your best friend grins at you with pride and mirth shining in his eyes and you feel warm inside.

“I think we could come to a truce and work together. Co-captain sound good to you doll?”

“I don’t think so Steve. I’ll leave the captaincy to you. I don’t think I could handle dragging the metal chicken wing over there back in line every day,” you respond with a laugh, sticking your tongue out at Sam. You draw out a squawk of offense and everyone bursts into laughter.

You turn your head slightly and find yourself making direct eye contact with the very same pair of vivid green eyes that still visit you in your dreams. You swallow down the rising emotions and offer her a small smile. She looks startled at first but relaxes slightly and gives you one of her own in return.

Maybe you could do this.

You spend a few more minutes catching up with the rest of the team, learning about what everyone has been up to while you were away. Checking the time, you slowly pull away from Wanda, who still has her weight resting on you, and announce that you’re going to head to your room to wash off and settle in before you have to fill out your mission reports.

Everyone bids you goodnight and you exit the room, walking the familiar pathway towards your own residence. Your ears pick up quiet footsteps behind you causing you to turn your head slightly.

A small sharp inhale escapes your lips. Your eyes betray you with a quick scan of her nervous form standing in front of you. Her hair is a little longer and the circles under her eyes are just the slightest shade darker. She still looks just as breathtaking as the day you walked out of her room. Her presence instantly brings you peace and you curse yourself under your breath.

Mentally slapping yourself, you plaster on a casual smile.

“Hey Nat. Been a while.”

You cringe.

Really? Been a while? Really?

She steps towards you, “Hi (y/n/n),” she responds softly.

“Listen I-”

“Can we-”

You both let out a nervous chuckle.

“Sorry. Go ahead, you first,” she says.

“Listen, Nat. I owe you an apology.”

She stills. What could you possibly have to apologize for? You’re not the one who broke the heart of the love of your life just because you had commitment issues.

Stop that. She’s not your love of anything.

She opens her mouth to interrupt but you press on.

“It wasn’t fair of me to try to push you into something you clearly weren’t comfortable with. You made it clear that you didn’t love me the way I loved you. I never wanted to make you feel like I would demand anything of you. You’re more than entitled to your own feelings and it wasn’t okay for me to project what I felt onto you.”

Frozen in place, her mind could only focus on two words.

Loved? Felt?

And didn’t that sting?

She can feel her throat start to constrict but she goes along with it.

Maybe it’s for the best.

“It’s okay (y/n/n). I understand where you came from and I’m partially to blame for letting things go on for as long as they did without taking your feelings into consideration.

“Friends?”

A small, okay large, part of her brain screamed in agony that this was wrong.

Instead, she smiles and nods opening her arms.

You gingerly step into her embrace, one arm comes up holding her shoulder while the other gently cups the back of her head in a familiar hold.

Her arms come up to wrap themselves around your middle, squeezing slightly.

If either of you noticed the other inhale just a little deeper, neither of you chose to comment.

xxxx

Several weeks go by and you’ve settled back into a familiar routine. Wanda has officially been adopted into you and your boys’ infamous trio and the brunette witch could often be seen joining in on your foolish antics around the compound. At first, the three made a pact to ensure you would never be exposed to prolonged periods of alone time with the woman who damaged your tender heart. Often times, you’d catch yourself alone with the assassin only for one of the others to immediately swoop in to whisk you away and drag you into some activity before you could draw each other into a prolonged conversation

It took you a few days to catch on to what your friends were doing. While the sentiment was greatly appreciated, you couldn’t miss the slight look of hurt that crossed Natasha’s face whenever you were pulled away from her. Eventually, you had to put your foot down, taking them aside one day. You told them that you loved them and appreciated their concern. But you’re an adult and you can handle your affairs well enough on your own.

They backed off but still continued to keep a wary lookout. They couldn’t help it. You were their favorite.

Your interactions with the devastatingly gorgeous avenger were still a little stunted and you both miss the longing stares you direct towards each other on occasion. Still, you’re getting better.

It still hurts sometimes but you’re okay as long as you still have her in your life. In any capacity.

You think you’re getting better. It stills hurts but you’re okay as long as you still have her in your life.

xxxx

You’re in the gym talking to Sam one afternoon as he spots you in the weights section while Natasha and Clint are sparring on the mats.

“The team’s decided to make an appearance at a new nightclub Aluminum Alloy Man bought out on a dare tonight. You in, sugar?”

You laugh at the latest nickname he’s given Stark but shake your head no.

“Sorry Sam but I’ve got a date.”

You hear a particularly loud grunt come from Clint and turn your head slightly to see Natasha apologizing while he’s doubled over catching his breath.

“Oh? Anyone we know?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

You roll your eyes.

“With myself, you dork. I’ve been dying to watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail and I finally have the downtime to sit through it. There’s a bottle of wine and a couch calling my name and I intend to capitalize.”

He laughs but nods understandingly.

“That’s fair. You good here? I better head out to get ready.”

“Yeah, yeah, you go ahead. Have fun tonight!” You wave him off wiping the sweat off the back of your neck with a damp towel.

“(Y/L/N)!” You hear your name called out from across the gym.

“Care to spar? Clint’s tapping out. He’s a wuss.”

You start to hesitate but choose to nod instead, stepping into the ring, setting your towel on the rope to dry.

You begin to circle one another assessing each other’s weaknesses. She makes the first move lashing out with a swift kick to your ankle, aiming to leave you off balance. You dodge out of the way and retaliate with a series of jabs towards her torso. This goes on for several minutes each of you landing several hits when Natasha launches herself off your bent knee, intending to use her signature thigh grip of death to bring you down.

Not today, Satan.

You bring your arms up, wedging them between your neck and her legs before she can get a grip. You latch onto her legs tightly before you swing her around your body, tackling her to the floor. You move your hand to cradle the back of her head to ensure it doesn’t smack into the ground, bringing yourself much closer to her body in the process.

You’re both panting heavily, stuck, mesmerized by the intense look in each other’s eyes. You have one leg between her thighs, knee pressed to her core, puffs of air intermingling between you.

Is she? Leaning towards you?

Oh, you definitely felt that wiggle of her hips against your knee.

You wet towel drops to the floor with a wet smack and just like that, the spell is broken.

You both scramble apart and you move to pick up the offending object.

Behind you, Natasha clears her throat sheepishly.

“So, I couldn’t help but overhear your big plans for tonight while you were talking to Wilson. Is there room for one more? I was actually planning to do the same, but I hear Monty Python is much funnier with good company.”

Everything inside of you screams that this is a terrible idea. But here’s the thing, you thrived off of terrible ideas.

“Sure, why not? We can start when everyone else heads out?”

Sure you would have declined, she brightens considerably and throws you a grin.

She starts walking backwards towards the door.

“Great! It’s a date! I mean- not a date-”

She smacks herself right into the door.

You let out a small laugh.

“I know what you meant.”

“Right. Yes. I’ll see you tonight!” She scurries out the door.

You stay standing there in the ring watching the space she just occupied.

On the other side of the door, Natasha leans heavily against the metal.

What have I gotten myself into?

xxxx

You bid goodbye to your friends and make sure to tell them to call you should they need anything. Once everyone is out the door, you turn around, inhale deeply, and set to work.

Despite everything, and your unfailing determination to not fall down the same rabbit hole, you can’t help but want to take care of Natasha in any capacity you can.

So, you take extra care to grab her favorite snacks, her go-to brand of wine, a couple glasses, and an oversized hoodie you always kept in the back of the closet, on hand just for her. She had a tendency to relax in thinner loungewear, but you knew once she settled in, she stubbornly refused to get up for anything no matter how cold she got.

As you set everything down on the coffee table in front of the oversized, plush couch in the center of the movie room, the beauty in question makes her way towards you in, surprise surprise, a thin tank top and shorts.

You roll your eyes but toss her your sweatshirt and she grins at you before hastily throwing it on, snuggling into the warmth. You both settle onto opposite sides of the couch, the wine and snacks split between you. The movie plays and you find yourselves relaxing. Like magnets, you eventually gravitate towards each other, sharing jokes and snacks, yelling at the large screen in front of you as the Black Knight stubbornly refuses to die.

Without realizing each other’s movements, she winds up leaning against you while your arm is wrapped around alternating between playing with her hair and rubbing soothing patterns across her shoulder and biceps.

You feel a shudder come from the deadly ball of fluff in your arms and only then do you realize your positions. You can’t bring yourself to move.

“Cold?”

“Yeah,” she nods. Attempting to burrow herself further into your clothes.

You pull her closer to you until her legs are resting over yours, head tucked under your chin, puffs of air tickling your sensitive neck.

Bad move (y/l/n).

You forget how to breathe. Natasha turns to look at you when she feels you still beneath her.

Oh. Oh god.

She didn’t realize how close she was to you and from this distance, she can see every detail of your ethereal beauty in the dim light of the movie lighting.

You turn your head to take a quick peak at her but suddenly you’re drowning in a sea of green. Your breath hitches when green is replaced by red and suddenly plump lips are crushing your own.

You moan and your hands scramble for purchase as the angel in your lap twists to straddle you. Fists tighten in your hair while she nips at your lower lip, close to drawing blood. She tugs at your shirt and you get the message. You desperately rip away your top while she follows suit before she pushes you onto your back spreading out on top of you.

A loud groan escapes your lips as the vixen in your arms finds the sensitive space right below your ear. Unwilling to be out done, you wrap your legs around her hips and gracefully flip yourselves over, trailing kisses down the crevice of her breasts, mapping your way down her body. Like Copernicus charting the stars. Reaching your destination, you pull apart the draw strings of her shorts with nothing but your teeth, earning a moan of approval from the writhing redhead. You smoothly slide back up her body, meeting her desperate lips in a searing kiss while your hand finds her center, already feeling the slick wetness ready for you. Natasha’s limbs fly to wrap around you as you set a steady pace pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Knowing she needs the extra push, your other hand moves to pull aside her bra before you deliver a harsh nip and a firm curl of your fingers.

She sees stars.

No.

She sees galaxies.

You continue to move, determined to prolong her pleasure for as long as possible.

You’re rewarded with the crack of her voice as she hurdles into the abyss.

“God, I fucking love you.”

It slips out of your mouth completely unbidden.

But it’s too late.

The damage can’t be undone.

Just like that, she snaps back to reality.

She hastily sits up. Your hand falls back into your lap as she quickly stands picking up her shirt.

“We can’t do this.”

“Natasha, I-”

“No.”

“Natasha, would you jus-”

“I said no!”

You feel like you’ve been here before.

She turns to make a hasty retreat, but you catch her hand in a tight grip before she can get too far.

“Why do you keep running from me? Am I so repulsive that the thought of being with me has you running for the hills?”

“Not everything is about you, (y/l/n),” she bites out.

Neither of you hear the team returning but all of them can hear the yelling coming from your direction and they run towards you.

“No. You always do this! Every time I think we’ve gotten to a good place; you freeze me out.”

“That’s the thing! We were in a good place! We were having fun. We had each other when we needed it and nothing more! We were so good like that. We can still be like that!”

Tears fill your eyes.

“It’s not enough.”

“Why can’t this be enough?!” she cries.

“This has to be enough,” she whispers looking at anything but you.

A hand moves to grip hers gently. The other rises to cup her chin to guide her eyes to yours.

“This could be so much more. Let me love you the way you deserve.”

Staring into your eyes, she can see you dying a little more inside the longer she stays silent.

She pulls away from you.

Okay.

You thought you could be fine with just floating in her orbit. Maybe you underestimated how long it would take for you to heal enough to allow it. Or maybe you couldn’t do this at all.

Your head tilts towards the floor. Your lips break into the softest, most heart-breaking smile she’s ever seen.

“I’m always going to love you Natasha Romanoff. But I owe it to the both of us to know this won’t be enough for me. This can’t be enough for me.”

A whimper is caught in her throat but she can’t bring herself to move when you step back away from her.

“I love you. I don’t want to,” you breathe out.

Natasha swears she hears something inside her shatter.

“I’m sorry I don’t give you the strength you need to pursue your own happiness. I really hope you find someone who does. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

You make me happy.

Just say it!

Her body screams in protest with every fiber of her being.

“Bye Tasha.”

You turn and only then do you realize that the two of you aren’t alone.

Wanda steps forward. She wraps her arms around your shoulders as she leads you away throwing a glare at the assassin.

Natasha takes a step in your direction.

“(Y/n) wait-”

She stopped by a metal arm blocking her way.

“Haven’t you done enough?” Bucky growls.

“And what do you know about what I’ve done?” She shoves him away.

“I know you hurt them! AGAIN!” he snarls, “You need to get your shit together before I’ll even THINK about letting you come anywhere NEAR (y/n) again, Romanoff.”

Her blood boils. She scoffs, “Big surprise, their guard dog immediately snaps to attention at the first sign of trouble. Tell me Barnes, does your master feed you well?”

She regrets her outburst immediately, but she’s too angry, too frustrated, too exhauseted to take it back.

“Don’t forget who trained you, Natalia,” comes out in a menacing hiss.

Frantically, Clint’s eyes snap from her to the ex-soldier advancing on her. He immediately steps between the two, placing a hand on her arm and turning towards the larger assassin.

“Whoa now, you know she didn’t mean that. Emotions are just running high right now. Let’s all take a step back. I could use a hand, Cap.”

Despite his own roiling emotions, he needs to maintain his professionalism as team captain, releasing a heavy puff of air, he moves to place a firm hand on Bucky’s shoulder, pulling him to his side.

“Clint’s right. We can’t do anything to fix this right now. Everyone, disperse. We’ll regroup in the morning.” He sends a piercing glare at the redhead.

Hearing another growl, Clint whips his head back around, “As entertaining as it would be to make a compound wide betting pool with Tony on a wwe rumble between you and two tag-teaming super soldiers, maybe we should take a second to cool off outside, yeah” he hisses at her.

Gritting her teeth, she nods, allowing Clint to pull her down the hall and out the door.

As she catches a glimpse of the hall leading to your room, all she can think is one thing.

She let you slip through her fingers… again.

Tagging some incredible people who expressed an interest in pt. 2:

guys im so fucking sorry this keeps showing up in your mentions.

@natasha-danvers , @thelastavenger-3000 , @ohfuckno , @imnotasuperhero

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #black widow #guest room pt.2

[shadlad24]

More Funny Little Moments #1: Season 1, Episodes 1-12

So, I decided to do this post after all. Halp. LOL Because I apparently LOVE giving myself a bunch of unnecessary work, I decided to choose two to three extra moments, per episode! SUPER halp! X’D Anyway, these are moments that didn’t make the cut for my FFLM series because: my sense of humor is a little weird, they were gonna be too much work (LOL/Siiigh), I like to highlight patterns, and I don’t like a lot of repetition. [Links to each FFLM along the bottom of the post. :)]

Let’s start with something I originally agreed with other fans on but have since changed my mind. A lot of people didn’t like this part of “Chariots of War” because it seems so ludicrous that Xena would forget her chakram anywhere. Well, let me tell you! This lady has left her weapons behind most episodes thus far. I didn’t note it every time here (and especially didn’t bother with her whip) because that’d really overrun the post buuuuut… You’ll see. XD

1.01 Sins of the Past

Xena’s shift being so much dirtier than the little boy’s clothes though she’s high up off the ground, and he lives in smoked-out rubble.

Yup. Xena forgot her sword (and later, her main saddlebag) at her mother’s tavern. Pft.

Sorry these were kinda lame, but I didn’t want to re-use any more of the original fifteen points I made about this episode... Ah well. Moving on! (heh)

1.02 Chariots of War

Xena loses her sword after the chariot crash, taking up and discarding Sphaerus’s but walking off without her own. (See her front and back and both of Argo’s sides.)

Gabrielle chewing Xena out, Xena being bummed about it, and Argo being surprised. X’D

1.03 Dreamworker

This got me good. Gabrielle does Xena’s war cry so well here that I really thought it was Xena for a few seconds. Realizing it was GabbyWabs only made me chuckle more because she apparently can’t do it when it really counts in “The Greater Good.”

Argo NOT being on Team Gabrielle. XD (Their feud is a little funny to me.)

1.04 Cradle of Hope

Xena tossing aside her sword after killing Nemos. Extras even dance and celebrate right on top of it! Wut thuh?

I decided to avoid mentioning Hope in the FFLM because Xena’s quote here is more ironic than comedic, and Gabrielle’s little face is just so sad, but I didn’t want to let it pass by entirely unremarked upon. At least GW gets to show off her oracle skills again? :’)

1.05 The Path Not Taken

So, Xena and Gabrielle walk into a bar… Heh. No, but really, they enter this tavern for the first time ever, yet the bartender not only knows what they want, he knows that they’re coming and has their drinks waiting for them too. All Xena has to do is knock on the counter and nod to get her fire-breath alcohol/oil, and Gabrielle barely has the word “cider” out of her mouth before the guy hands it to her. Xena, like me, is duly amazed.

Lucy, through Xena, making another timely anti-peanut statement. I just didn’t want to do the same thing twice back-to-back in the FFLM. X)

1.06 The Reckoning

Gabrielle thinking along the same lines Xena and I did about this poor excuse for a judge.

Me not being well-versed in ancient Greek heroes and picturing the fool who Draco killed so handily in the first episode. heh

1.07 The Titans

I’ll let Xena explain this one. …Mostly. I can’t believe Gabrielle not only sassed the Titans such that she unashamedly put Xena and Phyleus in danger too, but also kinda got this (admittedly awful) town demolished and didn’t lift a finger to actually help anyone in the temple. Tsk tsk. XP

So… Hyperion here can smash homes and businesses that were probably well-built and reinforced and all, but he can’t get his hand out of a stocks-cuff that was made in a single evening with scraps from those destroyed buildings. He also, inexplicably, has no use of his left hand or the power-breath that he used to knock Gabrielle over. Okie. XD

1.08 Prometheus

Is this really a thing? I was giggling quite a bit in disbelief that severed windpipes can heal. Like, perforated is one thing; completely bisected? Yeah, I don’t think so.

Gabrielle being incredulous upon learning that Xena has other friends, realizing what the warrior princess means, and then wondering if that could be her one day. 

   1.09 Death in Chains

Gabrielle enjoying watching Xena kill someone for the first time, then quickly realizing that fact. Whoops.

I found this moment really odd and then kind of hilarious. This poor dying old woman begs for water and goes ignored not only by the hospice workers, but also Talus and Gabrielle. Then Talus decides to be helpful. Gabrielle goes to the woman and lets her talk a lot (undoubtedly drying her mouth and throat even more), hears that Xena might be in danger, and then just… leaves. Talus goes with her, not having gotten water from the well after all. What a couple of jerks! XD

1.10 Hooves & Harlots

I really don’t know why Gabrielle kept making this face as Terreis died, but it tickled my funny bone too. So, I provided alternate subs to go with it. [Did you notice how she kind of cringes when Terreis tries to hold her hand and then just lets the Amazon flop once she’s died, flinging her hand aside like, “Ew, get it off me!”? What was that all about? X”) Hm… maybe she has an aversion to dying people, and that’s why she abandoned the old lady last episode?]

Gabrielle being a smart aleck, just like me, because Phantes’s complaint here is so ludicrous. But then you see the close-up of little hoofies in cuffs too, and, if you’re anything like me too, kinda just topple over laughing. The poor actual horse they did this to, though, man! What even?

Gosh, this episode was chockfull of hilarity, eh? Why did this happen? Gabby, take it away!

1.11 The Black Wolf

I laughed at this too. But now I wonder. Is Xerxes related to Caesar and/or connected to Rome or something? Because Xena does this twice around them too. In “When in Rome,” she jokes that the two guards lost playing tag with her, and in “A Good Day” she informs Pompey that if there were more guards hiding around their meeting space, then she would have had more helmets. heh Oh, Xenie. I think I know why Gabrielle’s turning out to be such a little punk ...or vice versa? Is Gabrielle actually a bit of a bad influence on Xena? XP

So, this fight just struck me as really odd. Xena passes her sword to Flora though she (Xena) needs to battle the big boss of the episode, and… actually, is totally right. The king throws a single wide-ass punch, waits while Xena kicks the guy behind her a few times, lets himself get kicked in the face a couple of times, and then comes at her with a little piece of chain, presumably from the restraints that were intended to keep Flora in place during her execution. Sir, you have a sword! A giant sword, right there on your hip! What are you doing? Then, when Xena kicks him a final time and sends him flying, his (supposed-to-be) metal armor is no match for the splintered wood of the axe she broke earlier. …Okie. XD XD XD   *gif below*

Xena once again leaves her chakram somewhere. …And I am now imagining this being part of Gabrielle’s maid duties: the poor kid has to go find Xena’s weapons each night and bring them back to her. I’m especially imaging the fluffball hilariously, adorably struggling to get the chakram out of things like this wall, as she did with Xena’s sword in the tree stump in “Dreamworker,” but more parallel to the floor. Cuuuute! XD

This plus this 

*pic + GIF below*:

1.12 Beware Greeks Bearing Gifts

This scene too really made me wonder, though amused as well. Why is Gabrielle so surprised that the only city nearby, that they were headed to, is the one they find? Is she really being that loud? Is Xena goofing around with the bootlaces question? Why startle Gabrielle and then yank her into enemy territory screaming, when what you want is quiet? What’s with the trapdoor-spider soldiers? Xena’s pose throwing the chakram. XD Gabrielle mostly featherlight dance-y moves through the battlefield. XD XD XD Why is it that when Xena tells Gabrielle to stick right behind her, Gabrielle disappears? And what was with the bucket-sitting soldier? Gabrielle is like, “Oh; no, thank you!” when she sees him and turns tail. Then Xena ...follows her. “We’re goin’ this way! Now we’re goin’ that way!” But they still end up dead-ahead from where they burst out of the bushes. XD That was ridiculous and nonsensical, and I’m very confused but had lots of fun. heheheh  *gif below* [ETA: Darn! The original file was too big, so I had to remake the GIF and cut quite a few things out. :( Sorry]

Xena’s outta-nowhere crusade to emasculate Deiphobus coming full-circle. What was that all about?

Welp, I hope you had as much fun as I originally and then later did. Not so much in the middle with the collage-and-GIF-making and editing and redoing, but; y’know. XD Wouldn’t trade it for …Hm… Nevermind. LOL

If you missed any of the FFLMs, then please click on the corresponding number-links below. :D

#1  #2  #3  #4  #5 #6 #7 #8 #9 #10 #11 #12

#xwp #xena #xena warrior princess #gabrielle #xena and gabrielle #fflm #funny #comedy #season 1 #forgetful #magic #shenanigans #argo #chakram #sword

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki Zuisouroku vita Okita CG Character Perspective

Last Zuisouroku CG post (finally)! though this is not the last zuisouroku game content post since I did find 2 more interesting things to translate.... Unfortunately that does not include the new story in the vita version of the game which I never found translations for... or the  薄桜鬼紀行 (i call it the travel guide) content. 

The travel guide (and the cg character perspectives apparently) was also included in the ds version of the game (according to text i found), and is a collection of conversations between characters about certain locations and places.... like Harada going to Saito's room to return some notes or tools on katana maintenance and then remarking that Saito's room has nothing useless in it with Saito then wondering about Harada’s comments, Yamazaki being tricked by Souji to go into Hijikata’s room, talk about Shimabara from the baka trio, a convo with Saito, Hijikata and Souji about the Yagi residence, and a convo between the male demons about the Tosa or whatever domain was associated with Kaoru’s rasetsu, etc..... 

Unfortunately, since all I have are summaries+partial translations of those conversations in Chinese, I will not be translating them since I have no interest in translating things that I will only be able to leave incomplete (or summaries for that matter) though that might change on the extreme off chance that someone translates said stuff into CH tho I honestly doubt that will happen if it that hasn’t happened already... or if i find it whenever i start looking for more translate which won’t happen for let’s say... more than 5 years? lol. random number tho it’s true that i’ve got an extremely long list of things that i have Ch tl for so i really don’t need or want more...

anyway, all images used are were taken with my vita, and same as my other zuisouroku postings, aside from the new cg, all other cg images used were edited together. i think these are in order... but i don’t care if they aren’t lol. 

enjoy....? also why does it seem like every third/fourth post of mine never shows up under the hakuoki/hakuouki tags?

Hakuoki Zuisouroku vita Okita CG Character Perspective

Translation by KumoriYami

(Face) To stare so blankly at my face, are you awake [says dazed/half conscious]? (Chest) My chest? What’s wrong? Do you like it? (Door) Ah~ I clearly told you to wake up, [but] you’re surprisingly looking over there?

(Face) You’re saying that my smile is scary? That’s too much [I’d assume something among the lines of: How uncalled for/annoying given how often Souji says commented on his smiling. well i’m not checking the audio so i can’t be sure]. Without a doubt, my smile normally looks like this.    (Hand) Is there something wrong with my hand?  (Door) Anyway, as soon as you see my smile, your eyes immediately look somewhere else.

(Face) Ahaha, I was so happy then. (Child’s Face) Hehe, this child was very happy too. (Sky) Ah...... I remember the sunset from that day being very beautiful. 

(Face) I was just playing with him, that’s all.  (Hand) These hands are meant for wielding blades, they need to be strong. Holding a child up like this for a while is nothing. (Child’s Face) The kid was crying a lot then. 

(Face) Again, you’re always getting into trouble.  (Katana) Since I heard you screaming, I have no reason to not protect you. (Chizuru’s Face) You were clearly told to stay in that room, [but] you [choosing] to run outside really startled me.

(Face) I feel like I’m an ally of justice. (Chizuru’s Face) If you were wearing this and pouring sake for me, I’d be very happy.  (Chizuru’s Clothes)Your being dressed as a geisha, is very beautiful. 

(Face) Aren't you courageous to seek out a gentleman who you know is wet?[??????????????????????????? “有种水灵灵的好男人的感觉吧.“ not sure about “ 水灵灵 “ which is the word for water followed by “spirit/soul”... so i guess wet?] (Clothes) Because I just took a bath, the outside air feels quite comfortable. (Sunlit Area) The sun was very warm that day.

(Face) Are you more interested in my face than cooking? (Chizuru’s Face) If you’re a good child, I will cook for you. (Pot) This doesn’t taste bad, but improve the taste for next time.

(Face) This watermelon is very sweet and delicious.  (Chizuru’s Face) At the time you were so surprised, It was very cute.  (Chizuru’s Kimono) As expected, wearing girls’ clothes suit you. 

(Face) Your shy/bashful expression is very cute.  (Hand) At the time, weren’t your hands also very warm and red? (Chizuru’s Face) You’re really too much. I’m obviously being very serious,  [yet] you turned your face away to the side. 

(Face) I really had no appetite that day. (Chizuru’s Face) The porridge you cooked for me was delicious. (Chizuru’s Hands) You’re always a little shy.

(Face) When I hold [held?] you, your body becomes stiff. (Chizuru’s face) At the time you looked so pale, I was really worried. (Woods) The originally comforting sunshine is very difficult to the bodies of rasetsu. 

(Face) Blame me for being so/too wilful....... sorry.  (Chizuru’s face) Although it might be embarrassing to say such a thing [to you], your sleeping face, is very cute. (Woods) Because I was together with you, the sunlight felt very gentle that day.

(Face) It strange. I obviously want to live with you, but I feel so uneasy. (Chizuru) At the time, your body’s stiffness felt so exaggerated.  (Woods) You’re actually looking over there?

(Face) Once this fire has been lit, it will be difficult to control how it is spread. (Chizuru) Thank you for listening to my grievances.  (Woods) At the time, I was being very serious. 

(Face) It’s incredible. The moment I touch you, all of my confusion and unease completely disappears.   (Chizuru) If your unease, could disappear like mine, I would be very happy. (Woods) Although I know that you’re shy, but if I see you trying to escape from reality, I will be sad. 

(Face) Thank you for accepting my marriage proposal.  (Hand) Stay forever at my side, because I will always stay at yours.  (Chizuru) This flower crown suits you. 

(Face) I will always love you. (Body) I will never leave you by yourself.  (Right hand) No matter what happens, I will always protect you. 

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

only 4 cg character perspectives (did heisuke’s last time but it didn’t show up under either the hakuoki/hakuouki tag) - all from kyoka-roku (picked that one up for 500 yen lol but i lost my data when i screwed up my vita T_T), now remain.... no eta but i’d like to get them done before the end of the year.....

also i FINALLY found a translation for the 2011 Otomate party Hakuoki Reimeiroku drama (been looking around for that one in particular since i enjoyed it - and that was with my extremely terrible JP audio recognition... and i already hurt my hand copying out all the text from it cuz it was off a vid), along with a translation for the 2018 otomate party Collar x Malice drama... no idea when i’ll get to those tho... but i don’t even know if i’ll bother with the latter since the tl i found is +46000 words.... which is ridiculously long... and probably the longest drama i’ve ever ended up with translations for...even counting some of the 30 min ones though im not sure bout the ones pushing an hour....

seriously tho, something that long makes me wanna just toss the entire thing into google translate..... and even then, i’d need more than 9 tabs since google only takes 5k words at once.

oh well? lol.

#hakuoki #hakuouki #Hakuoki Game Translation #hakuoki zuisouroku #Okita Souji

[shadedrose01]

Young God

Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker

Tags: idek how to tag this one, uhh, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, kind of?, more like, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies with benefits?, Rivalry, Rivals with benefits?, Its hard to explain aodjsk, Harley Keener as Iron Lad, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Has a Bad Day, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Nothing shown tho, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, parkner week 2020, Day 2, Arguing

Prompts: “And i said ‘no,’ you know, like a liar” / identity shenanigans / iron lad

Notes: Day 2, everybody! Hope you enjoy! 💞💞

Read on ao3 Here!

~~

He says "oo, baby girl, you know we're gonna be legends,

I'm the king and you're the queen, and we will stumble through heaven,"

Peter sucks in a quick breath just before he crashes onto the rooftop, sliding across the sandpaper like tiles and feeling as it rips up his suit, the backs of his arms and legs, his hands as he claws and slows himself down until he finally stops, just at the edge of the house.

He stays still for a second, pants as he hears the mechanical whirrs and clicks of the robotic arms coming closer and closer to him, before he feels his hair stand up, and jumps backwards off of one rooftop to the other, just as Doc Ock crashes through the house below him, leaving only destruction in his wake. Peter listens sharply, for a scream or a cry but hears nothing, and feels a wave of relief knowing the family must not of been home, before its quickly wiped away as he instinctive jumps out of the way again, a claw crunching the stone he was stood on just moments before.

"Come on, Spider-Man," the man taunts, his bluish purple goggles gleaming in the setting sunlight. "Stop running away, and fight!"

Another claw, and another jump, except this time, Peter bounces off of the next rooftop he lands on, circling around and kicking the man right in the jawbone. "You asked for it!" He spits out as the kick throws him back, off kilter for a second, a moment that Peter tries to take to get out of distance again, out of range, but he's too slow, a third claw reaching for him, about to grab him-

Before its blasted to pieces by a bright purple light, and Peter cant help but to stifle the annoyed sigh that threatens to escape, the simmering anger that's been inside him all day starting to boil, to bubble up as he hears the familiar, way way too familiar Southern drawl call out, in all its mocking glory, "Hey squid boy, watch where you're throwing those things, someone could get hurt!"

Peter lands onto the brick wall, sticking into place and turns just to see Doc let out an irritated yell, and lunge for the bright red and gray suit, purple lights attached like lazor pointers to a cat, an easy target that never seems to faze the man no matter how many times Peter told him to tone them down. For once, Peter understands Docs anger, annoyance, as the suit weaves through his claws and shoots them apart with ease, laughing and mocking him the entire time. It makes his insides twist, and his blood boil, his heart racing and his teeth gritting together.

Peter throws himself off the wall just in time to kick Doc to the ground, all of his claws and weapons destroyed, and an affronted, almost insulted noise comes from the robotic suit flying beside him. "You can't just come in and steal the kill, that's not cool, dude!"

Peter doesn't even spare him a glance, webbing the villians hand, feet and then body to the ground. "What, like you did?"

"I did not," The robotizied voice cries out, like a child. "I was just helping you out, Spidey! You should be thanking me!"

Now, Peter can hear the smug grin on the man's face, and this time he can't help the bitter sigh that escapes, as he turns to send a heated glare. "Fuck off, Iron Lad."

He can practically see his eyebrows raise, even through the emotionless mask and the man laughs, loudly, his voice higher pitched with pure amusement as he says, "Oh ho ho, Man! What's got you in a piss poor mood, huh? Having a bad Spidey day, Spider-Man?"

Peter's nostrils flare, and he has to physically hold back the words that long to spill from his mouth, tasting bitter on his tongue, flames licking at his lungs. "Police?" He asks instead, glancing away to glare at the stones below him, his hands clenched hard into fists.

"On the way, eta maaybe two minutes?"

"Then let's go." Peter doesn't wait for an answer, shooting a web off into the distance and yanking himself away, huffing out a breath when he hears the very clear, "Sir, yes sir!" And the echo of replusors sound from behind him, following him like they always do.

"If there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes,

I know you wanna go to heaven but you're human tonight,"

Peter swings for a while, trying to ignore, pretend that the metallic sounds of blasters aren't following him, hoping that eventually, the man, that Harley would get the hint and leave him the fuck alone today, but after a while, he realizes that won't happen and lands on the top of a building, crashing to the ground a little rougher than necessary, feeling his bubbling anger, annoyance rising higher and higher in his chest.

"Finally," The suit groans out, landing right beside Peter on the rooftop before flailing his arms out dramatically. "I thought you were never gonna stop, jeez."

"I'm on patrol." Peter growls out, going to the edge of the rooftop to look down and focus his hearing, to make sure he doesn't miss any moments, any crime that he needs to stop, almost wishing, itching that there was some so he could get away from the man encased in metal. He doesn't know why his presence is bugging him so much today- he's normally annoying, sure but not this much, never this bad- but it is and Peter just longs to get away (even as a part of him begs to get closer).

The man just huffs, his neon purple eyes seeming stare into Peter's soul incredulously. "Thats never stopped you before." When Peter just ignores him, the man takes a step forward and his helmet retracts, the face of the one and only Harley Stark- son to Tony Stark, heir to Stark industeies and the main pain in Peters ass for the last eight months- scrunched up with a weird mix of childish annoyance and worry that makes him look constipated. "Seriously, Spidey. What's going on? Are you okay?"

The real concern that slips into the mans tone makes Peter's insides twist, but he ignores it as he spits out, "Why do you care? Thought you only cared about yourself?"

Its intentionally rude, and he knows it hits its mark when a pang of hurt runs across Harley's features before it disappears back into a blank slate so similar to the one his father wears for the same reason, to hide the pain. "You know that's not true." Even his voice has gone back to painfully neutral, and any satisfaction Peter anticipated to feel is overwhelmed by a sickening guilt that poisons him from the inside out, twists his stomach and makes him feel nauseous.

He should apologize, he knows, but he's still- he still feels the burning, the fire under his skin, in his bloodstream, charring his lungs, molten lava in his veins, and he can't stop the sour words from slipping past his lips, with a faint mocking laugh. "Do I?"

"I thought you did." He mutters, his usually bright, summer day skies eyes darkening as a storm cloud passes by, rumbling with a thunder that makes Peter's heart thump heavily in his chest. "I know you do. I know you don't really like me, I get that, but you normally aren't this much of a dick about it. This isn't you."

Peter just laughs again, bitter and twisted and wrong sounding, even to himself. "You don't know me. You don't know anything about me."

He says, "oo baby girl, don't get caught on my edges,

I'm the king of everything, you know my tongue is a weapon,"

Harley's eyes just narrow more, his jaw clenching, and Peter can see his words are started to get to him, his fingers twitching and his shoulders raising. Good. "I think I know more about you than you think."

"Do you?" Peter snorts, shaking his head in exasperation as he glances over to the man, glaring, the fire burning brighter, flames licking at his throat. "Say, what do you know about me?"

"I know your kind," He starts, scowling, counting on his fingers as if Peter is a child that he's lecuring. "I know you're considerate. I know you put everyone else before yourself, because you think somehow, subconsciously that your life is worth less than others. I know you feel guilty for something that happened in the past, and try to better yourself because of it. I know you care, much more than you let on." Peter snorts, trying to ignore the emotions and raw feelings bubbling in his throat, and Harley just continues, ignoring it. "I may not know your name, or your face, or your- your identity but I know you, Spidey. And this," He makes a waving motion at Peter's body, "whatever this is, it isn't you. So Explain. What's going on?"

He's almost pleading, now, begging for Peter to tell him and the masked man almost longs to tell him, but honestly, he doesn't even know what's wrong. He's felt this burning, this itch for something since he woke up, and as the day went on, he grew more and more irritated, irate, a chemical reaction gone wrong, Harley acting as a catalyst and speeding up the reaction until now, its starting to explode, bubbling over the glass and creating a mess of emotions.

Peter can't tell him that, though, can't tell him that he's being a dick for nothing, so he just shrugs him off, looking away again and muttering a quick, "Nothing."

He can almost feel the tension in the air rise, turning thick as Harley bristles and flares, "Let me help you, for fucks sake!"

"Maybe I don't want you to help me!" Peter sparks back, whipping his head back around to glare at the man, the energy high, electric around them.

"There's a light in the crack, that separates your thighs,

And if you wanna go to heaven, you should fuck me tonight,"

"Oh, no. You do." Harley sneers, stepping forward, closer to Peter. "You do, you're just too much of a coward to admit it."

Peter rolls up his mask to his nose, and glares heavily at the man, taking a step towards him in retaliation. "Middle school insults, really?"

"Only telling the truth." Another step forward. "You're a coward who tries to hide his true feelings and pretend they don't even, even though you know they do."

"Oh yeah?" Another step, and suddenly, they're face to face, their noses millimeters apart, almost brushing in their proximity. "Say that again, I dare you."

Harley takes the bait, leaning in closer until Peter can feel his air on his lips, their breath mixing. "You're a coward, Spider-Man."

And Peter thinks he's going to punch him. His fists are clenched, his body is tense, he's bracing himself to do it. But instead, he finds himself grabbing his shoulders tightly and pushing their lips together, his mind whirling as the reaction bubbles over and the flame in his chest ignites into a wildfire, bright and untamable as Harley kisses back just as heavily, just as intensely, pressing him back back back until his back is pushed against a brick wall. Their lips don't disconnect, their heads turning and tongue swirling as Harley's hands roam up and down Peter's suit, over his arms, chest and abs, Peter's moan being swallowed into Harley's mouth, only to be reciprocated moments later.

The kiss breaks only to allow Peter to jump into Harleys arms, his legs wrapped around and sticking to the waist of the metal suit and his arms around his neck before theyre reconnected again, sucking face and groaning into each others mouths.

"My place?" The blond asks, voice muddled by lips and tongue and teeth, and Peter only nods instead of answering, pressing his face into his neck to leave marks, bites and bruises as the other man wraps his arms around his waist and under his ass, before the repulsors start back up and they fly away, towards the giant looming tower in the distance.

And I've been sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool, for a while now,

Drowning my thoughts out with the sounds,

Peter blinks awake slowly, hearing the faint whisper of a fan and a steady mechanical hum and feeling the satin, silk sheets beneath his fingertips. He turns his head slowly, his brain still groggy as he sees the other man, Harley beside him, his ryestalk hair askew and his face lax, more youthful than Peter's ever seen it, the sheet only covering to halfway up his chest, the rest out in the open, bare outside of the bright red marks still covering his skin. He flushes slightly as the memory's return from the night before, or, evening? He looks to the large, floor to ceiling windows beside the bed to see that it's still nighttime, the bright moonlight shining in through the clear glass, the pale blinds and illumating the room, casting shadows onto Harley's features and making him look... softer, ethereal, such a contrast to his sharp words and his even sharper personality. He finds he likes it, the softer, gentler look, and finds himself staring for a few moments, taking the moment in before he sits up slowly, making sure not to awaken the other man, and stands.

He finds a pair of pants on the floor, and a shirt he isn't sure is clean or dirty, throwing them both on before noticing a glass door, leading out into a balcony on the other side of the room. He had remembered landing somewhere early, hazily, though he obviously wasnt focused on it. It must've been there. He finds himself drawn to it, tiptoeing quietly over to the door and sliding it open before stepping outside, and taking a large inhale of the chilled air. He moves to the railing of the balcony, listening to the faint breeze of the late August winds, the car horns and honks in the distance, stares down at the still busseling, still alive city below them, not really focusing on anything, not really thinking, just breathing, feeling, living.

That must be why he doesn't hear the other man stirring, or hear him approch until the door behind him clicks open again. Peter doesn't turn around, doesn't have to, just continuing to watch the cars drive by until two arms wrap around his waist, gently, warily, until a, now clothed, chest is pressed against his back, and a chin rests on his shoulder. Peter just exhales, leaning back into the other mans grip, feeling more relaxed, more at ease than he has in a while, longer than he can remember.

Do you feel like a young god?

You know the two of us are just young gods,

"Do you ever..." Peter doesn't know when, or why, he starts to speak, doesn't think of what he says as he murmurs, hushed, low, a whisper, "feel like a young god? With these powers, the suits, the- the responsibility..." Harley just hums, faintly, and they start to sway, subtle, gentle back and forth motions, back and forth, like waves cascading onto a beach. "They all look up to me. The people, the city. They all-" Peter shakes his head, sighing lightly, airy. "And sometimes I just... sometimes I just don't know if I'm enough, you know? Sometimes I just..."

"Need a break." The other man finishes, murmurs, his lips brushing against Peter's cheek and sends tingles down his back.

"I-I guess so, yeah." There's a few moments, a few seconds where they just sit in the comfortable silence, where Peter glances up at the smog filled sky, seeing a few stars shining through, the almost full moon gleaming brightly down at them.

Before, "Let me help, baby." Harley whispers, pleads, and Peter goes to protest but the blond beats him to it. "You're burnt out, constantly saving the city, saving the world, constantly being the punching bag for everyone else, let me help. Please, Peter," And that was something new, too, Harley knowing his name, knowing his face, knowing him through and through, though he knows the other man won't tell, won't share, turning his head with easy fingers to look him in the eye, his ocean blues almost neon in the glow of the moon. "Let me help you."

They stare at each other, flickering from eye to eye for a few beats, a few thumps in Peter's chest, and he doesn't answer, not really, just lowers his head and places it onto Harley's chest, into the crook of his neck, but his lack of an answer is answer enough. The older man just presses a drawn out kiss onto the top of his head, and holds him closer, a non spoken thank you that sends Peter reeling, unused to the feeling of care, of concern, of love.

And yet, surrounded by strong arms and held closely to a firm chest, Peter feels at his strongest, feels comforted, known, feels safe. He closes his eyes, and just breathes, let's himself have this moment of calm and quiet in the arms of his love.

And we'll be flying through the streets, with the people underneath,

And they're running, running, running...

#parkner week 2020 #parkner #harley keener/peter parker #harley keener #peter parker #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel #mcu #marvel mcu

[mass-effect-tales]

Shot in The Dark ch. 4

Nero pushed Skye away while Shepard and Garrus fired on the beast to draw it's attention away. Nihlus covered Nero as he helped Skye out of the area and ordered her to stay away before returning to assist Nihlus.

Shepard cursed as she tried to aim at the beast while it continued to jump around. Garrus had gotten a few shots in along with Nihlus. Nero found an opening to move in and sever the tendons of the beast's back legs, making it only able to limp around as Shepard and Nihlus moved in with their rifles. Finally with a well placed shot to the head the beast collapsed and disappeared into nothing. The group watched as the Alliance ships took down Sovereign. Shepard noticed one of the pieces was heading their way and shouted for everyone to move just as it crashed through the glass.

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

"They were over here!" Skye quickly led the group of soldiers to the wrecked council room. The group immediately started digging through the rubble looking for the group or any sign of them. Skye perked up when someone shouted they found someone and quickly rushed over to see they found Garrus and Nihlus.

"Nihlus! Where's Nero? Did you see what happened to him?" Skye could feel her throat tighten with worry when he shook his head. She was ready to start digging again when she heard footsteps coming towards them.

From another pile of rubble Shepard appeared helping Nero up as both of them limped to the group. Skye couldn't stop the tears of relief from running down her cheeks.

It took a few weeks for Nihlus and Nero to recover but soon things had returned to a semblance of normalcy. Skye hasn't heard from Garrus since he returned to c-sec but she still keeps in touch with Chakwas who has kept her informed that Shepard was doing well. As for Nihlus and Nero; the little bounce in Skye's step went away as she remembered the last time she saw the drell.

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

"Alright Nihlus, you should be fit to leave in three more days. As for you Nero, you've been deemed fit enough to leave today if you want." Skye smiled brightly at both men as she updated them. She tried not to chuckle at Nihlus' grumbling while she handed Nero a holopad for him to sign his release form. Skye bit her lip nervously as she thought about her next comment.

"So Nero, I heard spectres usually have a small crew on their ships. I was wondering if your crew needed a medic." Skye smiled nervously as Nero handed her back the holopad.

"I don't have a crew, I work better on my own." 

"Oh." Skye felt her smile fall a bit but she quickly fixed that to appear his statement didn't affect her. "Well, your clothes are on the side table and you're all good to go." She quickly excused herself to give the doctor the holopad and inform the head nurse of Nero's release. By the time she returned to check on Nero he was gone and Nihlus looked frustrated.

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

"I guess I read him wrong." She mumbled to herself as she made her rounds through her section. By the time she reached Nihlus her earlier thoughts were a fading memory.

"Alright Nihlus, you're free to go." Skye chuckled as he almost jumped out of bed. He had dressed in his usual outfit earlier since she sent him a message earlier that he was clear.

"Thank the spirits! If I have to look at the same view for another hour I'd go nuts." He took the holopad from Skye and quickly signed it before passing it back to her. His normal grin had faded and he looked at her with an unreadable expression.

"Listen, do you still want to join a crew? I know I'm not Nero but I could use your talents on my team." 

Skye was silent for a moment. She did enjoy Nihlus' company and he did make her laugh. She guessed it wouldn't hurt if she went with him.

"Sure, on one condition."

"What?"

"Teach me how to fight."

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

The Amonkira is a small but quick vessel which perfectly suited Nero's needs. Usually the silence of the ship was calming but ever since leaving the Citadel it felt oppressive which usually led him to playing music on his omni-tool to break the silence. This time though the silence was broken by a message from Nihlus.

I need your help with something. Can you come to the Citadel?

The message made Nero raise a brow. Usually if Nihlus needed assistance with a mission they would meet at the mission point. 

Of course. ETA 20 minutes.

Nero changed his navigation to redirect the course to the Citadel before sitting down and looking up a vid for meditation music.

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

Nero walked through the crowd until he reached the Two Moons cafe where he knew Nihlus would be waiting for him. What he wasn't expecting was to see a familiar head of honey colored hair tied into a braid over her shoulder sitting with Nihlus looking over a holopad.

"Skye?"

Skye looked up from her holopad, giving him a curt nod before returning to her holopad. Nero couldn't tell what formed the knot in his stomach, the nonverbal reply or Skye's hand resting on top of Nihlus' hand on the table.

"You needed my assistance?" Nero asked, sitting down in the seat across from them. Nihlus nodded, sitting up and moving his hand out from under Skye's hand so he could look through his omni-tool.

"You remember when Shepard was announced as KIA?"

Nero remembered that day well. While he didn't know the commander well and rarely spoke to her when he was on her ship, he admired her determination to take down Saren and how much she cared about her crew.

"Of course, it was a tragedy when it was announced." 

"Well, the council never attempted to find her body. I found out the location of the Normandy crash and want to go there to find her tags and bring them to her mother."

While he admired Nihlus' want to give Shepard's mother closure, he couldn't imagine her tags would be easy to find after almost a year after her death. 

"Are you sure that is wise? Are you sure the council just didn't announce they tried searching for her body."

Nero was surprised when Nihlus let out a frustrated hiss from his subvocals.

"You and I know damn well they wouldn't waste their time looking for a dead spectre, even after she saved their asses they pay her back by leaving her to fade into Alliance recruitment vids and scholarship titles!" Nihlus got up and stormed off to cool off. Nero was about to get up and followed him when Skye's voice made him stop.

"Let him cool off, he has been upset for a while now. I understand since Shepard became a close friend before she died. It does seem disrespectful that neither the Council or the Alliance sent out anyone to look for her body or even her tags."

Nero watched Skye twirl her braid between her fingers. He could see even in the braid that her hair had grown longer. His mind began to wander as he tried to imagine her hair out of its usual braid. How long was it? How would it feel between his fingers.

"How long have you two been together."

He almost didn't recognize the question coming from his lips. He shouldn't care what she did, he hasn't seen her in almost a year.

Not since he told him he'd rather be alone than have her join him.

"Oh, actually we recently broke it off. It started not too long after he was released from the hospital. We just didn't go together and agreed we're better off as friends."

"And the hand holding?"

Skye laughed, he found he enjoyed the sound of her laughter.

"He was tapping his fingers on the table waiting for you. It was the only way to keep him from fidgeting."

The knot in his stomach had loosen with her explanation though he could feel himself tense when Skye started coughing. She quickly dug through her bag until she found her inhaler and took a few puffs before her breathing returned to normal.

"Has that been getting worse?"

Skye shook her head as she returned her inhaler to her bag. "Not really, I'll have a fit once in a while but nothing as bad as that time in Huerta."

Nero nodded, forcing himself to relax as he noticed Nihlus returning.

"Sorry about that. Listen, if you don't want to come I'll understand-" Nihlus began before being cut off by Nero.

"I'll join you."

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

The winds of Alchera stung Nero's face as he looked through the destroyed Normandy. The three of them had been searching for over an hour and while they found many dog tags from the crew, none of them were Shepard's. 

"Nihlus, we have looked everywhere. If Shepard's body didn't burn up in the atmosphere, she might have landed away from the crash site," Skye called out. She hated talking about Shepard like that but she needed to get her point across.

"Then we'll increase the search perimeter, it couldn't have been too far." Nihlus said, ready to continue his search before being grabbed by Skye.

"Nihlus listen, we searched all we could. If she landed out there then her body could be buried and we'll never find her, the snow had almost a year to bury her. I know you mean well but you need to let her go."

Nero could hear the mournful trill coming from Nihlus as he hugged Skye, burying his face in her neck. He looked away to give him some privacy to grieve. Not too far from where they landed he noticed indents in the snow that had been buried in a light coating of fresh snow. Judging by the length and distance apart he theorized it belonged to the landing legs of a ship.

"Nero! We're leaving!" Skye called out to him as she led Nihlus to the ship. Nero walked over and helped Skye lead Nihlus inside before moving to the dining area to make them all something warm. He passed Nihlus a cup of kava while Skye got a cup of jasmine tea, her favorite.

"I'm sorry, I really thought that we'd find her." Nihlus said, looking down at his kava. 

"It's alright Nihlus, how about we go get a drink somewhere." Skye suggested.

"The closest place near here is Omega." Nero stated, taking a sip of his coffee.

"A drink does sound good," Nihlus mused, taking a sip of his kava before standing up to go set the navigation to Omega.

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

"I regret this suggestion." Skye mumbled, trying to avoid looking at the asari dancer who was dancing on their table. Nihlus and Nero looked unfazed with the performance as they continued to drink their drinks. 

"You know, it's rare to see a drell around here." The dancer purred, sliding into Nero's lap. "Is it true just a kiss could make someone high?"

"Don't you have other tables to dance on?" Skye huffed, glaring at the woman who just smirked at her.

"Don't you have to take someone's temperature? I mean, who wears scrubs to a club?"

Skye could admit working in the hospital has left her with mostly scrub tops which didn't change after joining Nihlus since she would usually wear a scrub top and a nice pair of jeans when not working.

"I'm going to the bathroom." Skye grumbled as she scooted out of the booth and pushed her way through the crowd to the restroom. The dancer laughed until she felt herself being lifted and placed on the table.

"I believe you have other customers to attend to." Nero said as he got up and walked away in the direction Skye went. The asari huffed and looked to Nihlus as if he'd comfort her.

"You heard the man." Nihlus snickered, taking a sip of his drink as the asari huffed and stomped away. 

Nero slipped his way through the crowd looking for Skye as he walked. When he reached the restroom he noticed a line and grew concerned when he did not see her on the line. He immediately started a sweep of the club looking for her galaxy patterned scrub shirt or her honey colored hair in the few crowds of humans.

"Get your bloody claws off me! I didn't do anything!"

Nero quickly followed the sound of Skye's voice and saw her between two large turians who were dragging her to the exit. He immediately recognized their armor and called Nihlus as he followed the turians.

"Nihlus, get to the exit. Skye has been grabbed by the Blue Suns."

#fanfic #mass effect #mass effect oc #shot in the dark #human/drell

[thatesqcrush]

Long Way Home, Ch. 7

AN: Welp, there was a delay. Work life has been intense and home life has been just as busy lots of sick going around. Add writer’s block and it’s never a good combination. But here! We! Are!

Rafael x Reader. SVU x Good Wife AU. References: GoodWife S.3, E.21 & S.5, E.12

ETA: tag list - @madpanda75 @melissagarner @sass-and-suspenders @dreila03 @bowieisawizard @garturbo @themanwithsass @obsessionprofessional @dreila03 - anyone else just ask; sorry if I forgot anyone.

***

Judge Cuesta was eventually found holed up in a secret chateau off 57th and Central Park West. He maintained his innocence of Bullock’s murder, asserting that he wouldn’t hurt his friend to maintain his reputation. “I had to hide; someone is out for revenge!” he barked angrily at Rafael, now back down at One Hogan Place.

“Your attitude, your honor, it will do more to condemn you than the evidence. You’re on this side of the bench now,” Barba snapped.

Your brows rose but you remained silent, rapping your fingers on a half empty can of ginger ale. You willed your nausea to abate. It did, and you cleared your throat before speaking. “We have solid alibi for Mr. Rooney. Despite your need to secure the conviction, he surprisingly holds no ill will to either one of you. You should be so humble,” you replied sternly.

Cuesta slumped forward, defeated. “I know. We shouldn’t have done it. We were greedy and righteous. I let that cloud my judgment. What now?”

“That’s for the court of inquiry to determine. You will likely be removed from the bench altogether,” Rafael replied.

Your phone buzzed and you reached into your pocket. “Y/L/N here,” you answered holding up a finger to excuse yourself. Rafael nodded and you took the call outside Rafael’s office. You half smiled at Carmen who returned the smile before continuing her typing.

After briefly talking with Liv, you returned to Rafael’s office. You motioned to Rafael and he came over. You whispered what Liv told you and his green eyes darkened. He nodded and turned to face Cuesta, clearing his throat. “We’ve got Bullock’s killer in custody.”

****

A partial print on the pen lead to the Rooney’s son, Patrick Jr. who was so angry about his father’s wrongful conviction, that he was hell bent on revenge. Patrick Sr. was devastated and any forgiveness he may have had at Cuesta and the newly deceased Bullock, was long gone.

“My wife is gone, and now, the only family I had left, is now behind bars. I may be a free man to others, but I forever live imprisoned thanks to selfish pigs like Judge Cuesta and Judge Bullock,” Patrick Sr. sobbed on the news.

Carisi reached for the remote and turned off the television. “Well, he ain’t wrong,” he sighed. He ran his hands through his hair and looked over at you. You were signing off on paperwork effectively closing out the case on Bullock’s murder. “Whatcha got going on this weekend?”

“Laying low,” you replied knowing full well you had a visit with an ob/gyn. “You?”

“It’s my anniversary with my girlfriend. Pulling out all the stops - home cooked dinner - making my ma’s lasagna from scratch, taking her for drinks and jazz,” Carisi replied excitedly.

“That sounds so lovely. I hope you guys have the best time,” you replied smiling. “How long have you two been together?”

“Two years; she’s really great. I am so lucky. This line of work... it can be hard to find someone,” Carisi stated. “I am sure you understand, with lawyers and long hours.”

“I do,” you acknowledged. “Keep that in mind yourself Fordham law,” you subsequently teased. “Happy anniversary,” you added after a beat. You furrowed your brows. Carisi noticed the crestfallen look on your face that quickly appeared and disappeared just as quickly.

“Hey, you okay? I’m sorry if that brought up any memories,” he began to apologize.

“No, no,” you reassured him. “Just a lot on my mind.”

“Want to talk about it?” Carisi asked. You noted the concern in his voice. You shook your head, grabbing your bag. “It’s fine; we can talk about it later.”

Carisi opened his mouth to protest but you held up your hand. “I’ll be fine. Go - go enjoy your anniversary before another crime happens and you have to get called back in.” You waved Carisi off. Carisi nodded, and squeezed your shoulder. “Y/N, you can always count on me for a shoulder.”

You smiled. “Thanks Sonny. I appreciate that.” With a final wave, Carisi left.

You gave the paperwork in front of you a final look through. Satisfied, you dropped off the paperwork on Liv’s desk before heading out of the precinct and to your apartment.

As you walked down the street, your phone buzzed. Looking at your phone, you frowned. You recognized the 312 number.

It was Lockhart Gardner. You debated answering or letting it go to voicemail. After two more rings, you answered it, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Hello?” You questioned.

“Y/F/N? It’s Diane,��� the voice on the other side answered.

“Diane! It’s nice to hear from you. How... how did you get my number?”

You could almost see Diane’s smile, even an hour away. “Kalinda.”

“Of course Kalinda,” you sighed. Lockhart Gardner’s own in-house investigator and a dear friend of Will’s, had her own ways - sometimes not so legal ways - of tracking people down. “Whats going on Diane? Is everything okay?”

The blonde name partner explained that Will had some remaining equity in the firm that they needed to absolve and as his next of kin, you were the one they needed to buy-out.

“Can’t you just email me the paperwork and I will Fed-ex overnight?” You asked wearily as you approached your apartment.

“No, unfortunately it needs to be done in person,” Diane explained. “With all the remaining partners present.”

You groaned. “Okay, I will see what flights are available. I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon.”

“Don’t worry about the flight dear. I’ll take care of it,” Diane replied.

Just as you were about to thank her, a thought occurred to you. “Diane, is Will’s name coming off the door?”

Diane sighed. “There was some talk about it. Particularly from David. But we voted to leave Will’s name. He and I did start the firm after all.”

You thanked Diane before ending the call. Finally, you reached your apartment. Your phone buzzed again. You groaned. ‘What now could Diane want?’ you wondered.

[Rafael, 6:47 PM]: You free?

You debated your response. You watched three dots appear on your phone. They stopped and then appeared again.

[Rafael, 6:48 PM]: If so, want to grab dinner?

[Y/N, 6:49 PM]: I am wiped. Not feeling too hot. Rain check?

[Rafael, 6:51 PM]: Of course.

You felt bad but you really were exhausted. You also very anxious about your appointment. You decided to play your cards to your chest. Once you had your appointment, you could make whatever moves needed to be made. Further, you now how to get ready for a day trip to Chicago.

You plopped on the couch and turned on the television. Before you could help it, you dozed off.

#my fics #my writing #rafael barba and reader #rafael barba fanfic #barba and reader #svu x the good wife #will gardner x reader #svu goodwife crossover #the good wife au #svu au

[hookaroo]

Vocivore, Ltd. (38 of 45?)

Also on FFN and AO3 (ListerofTardis)

Tagging @ouatwinterwhump, @killian-whump, @sancocnutclub, @killianjonesownsmyheart1, @courtorderedcake, @facesiousbutton82 <3

***THE MOST WONDERFUL, HEARTBREAKING, and BEAUTIFULLY WHUMPY COVER ART BY @cocohook38 HERE and HERE!!!!!!!!!*************

***Chapter 12 animation and art that will absolutely astound you!!!!!!!!!**********

***LETHAL Chapter 19 art in all of its BLOODSTAINED GLORY!!!!************

**POOR STABBED KILLIAN falling into the sheriff station! Ch. 7 & 23 art!!**

****KILLIAN AND HIS MASTER IN THE GORGEOUS CATHEDRAL!!!!!!!!!!!!    CHAPTER 1 ART THAT KILLS ME EVERY TIME I SEE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*********

*CH 34 ART! A DEFEATED KILLIAN, HEAD BOWED BEFORE HIS MASTER!!*

***CH 36 ART! DETECTIVE JONES BOWS BEFORE HIS NEW MASTER!!!!!!***

***AAAAHHHH!!! THANK YOU MY WONDERFUL COCONUT FRIEND!!!!!!***

Present (Friday, continued)...

Emma couldn't hold back her tears as she crouched before the mutilated form of her husband. He'd been stabbed in the chest and through the hand, and his right shoulder hung grotesquely out of place. Blood caked his face and pooled in livid swellings from a recent beating. Red droplets dripped sluggishly off the tip of his nose and splattered, barely visible, onto the rust-tinged burlap on his torso. A haphazard mess of surgical staples did little to contain bone-deep lacerations on either side of his ankle. And a line of slowly oozing punctures trailed their way up both inner thighs until disappearing beneath the sackcloth smock.

She decided to take it as a good sign that everything still seemed to be actively bleeding. Killian did not appear to be moving at all; at first, Emma could not even see any sign of breaths. But as she reached out to seek a carotid pulse, she noticed a slight and labored rise and fall of his chest. Her relief caused a catch in her throat. He was alive... for the moment.

Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion and weighed down by the responsibility of keeping him alive until help arrived, Emma fumbled for the phone concealed in her pocket. If ever there was a time for magical healing… Once again, she strained to feel the tingle of light where her power dwelt, a reflex she’d already indulged several times since the Vocivore’s defeat. As before: nothing.

Well, no use bemoaning something she couldn't change. Her free hand automatically came to rest on Killian's arm, above the ring and stake, over an unraveling bandage. She was both heartened and dismayed when Killian flinched away from her touch with a whine.

"Killian, hey," she soothed. "It's just me." She hit the button to call EMS, then put her phone on speaker. "You're gonna be okay."

She kept a careful watch on her husband while explaining to the dispatcher what was needed: essentially every ambulance and emergency vehicle in the United Realms. As sheriff, she knew they would take her seriously, as well as listen to any special request. So while she did her best to direct them to the scene, she also suggested that they contact David, who knew exactly the route they should take.

In the midst of rattling off her father’s contact info, while also absently holding pressure against as many of the puncture wounds as she could simultaneously reach, Emma felt Killian begin to stir. He shuddered as he tried to drag his eyes open.

“Try and hold still,” urged Emma.

“Swan,” he whispered, wincing.

His recognition of her brought tears to her eyes once more. Another good sign. “I'm here, babe. Just hold on; we’re going to get you all fixed up.”

He shook his head, breathing faster now, trying and failing to reach up and push her away with his stump. “You have to... go…” he groaned. “The monster…”

A flash of extreme pain crossed his face, and the words fizzled out, evaporating into frantic gasps for air.

Emma felt her own breath catch at his obvious distress. “Shhhhh, Killian, shhh... calm down. The monster’s dead; it can't hurt you anymore.”

Every muscle in her husband's body stood taut as he fought for air.

“He's having trouble breathing,” she reported to the person on the other end of the line, as calmly as she could. She listened to the instructions but her attention was riveted on Killian. At long last, he managed to quell the panic and slow the gasping.

“D-dead?” he wheezed, sounding as if he couldn't even define the word.

“Yep.” She used her shirt sleeve to carefully blot some blood that was trickling into one of his eyes.

Killian finally managed to focus on Emma's face for the first time, and though he still had an alarmingly dazed look in his eyes, he immediately fixated on a small cut on her forehead.

“You're hurt.”

He looked as if he were about to raise his left arm despite the blade embedded in his chest. Emma held him down.

“Good to know your keen observational skills are still intact.” She rolled her eyes as he continued staring up at her in concern. “I'm fine. And you're ridiculous.”

He gritted his way through another wave of intense pain and seemed to forget that she was even there. It was then that she noticed how much he was shivering; whether it was from the practically nothing he was wearing, or from shock, she didn't know. How was she supposed to lay him flat and elevate his feet with his hand pinned to the frickin’ altar? More importantly, if he stopped breathing, how would she perform effective CPR in this position?

She pushed aside the thought that, with the paramedics at least 30 minutes away, any efforts at resuscitation would likely be futile.

Emma glanced back at Jones, who was gingerly unwinding the costume bandage from his wrist. He wouldn’t be able to provide much assistance, whatever she decided to do.

She felt Killian squirming under her hands and turned her attention back. He groaned and then, as if reading her thoughts, he hissed,

"Please, love... get me free of this... bloody thing..."

His fingers twitched in feeble emphasis. Emma bit her lip, reluctant. "I don't know, Killian... that may not be such a good idea."

"Please," he said again, eyes screwed shut against the pain. "It'll have to happen... eventually. And I think... it may make it... easier to breathe."

"It will hurt a lot less after you've had some morphine," she pointed out. But if it really did help him to breathe better...

"Please, Emma," Killian grunted. "Just do it."

The dispatcher on the phone asked for an update, and Emma explained the situation while she set squeamishness aside and studied the impaling blade. She had no way of knowing how long it actually was, or how much of it was embedded in the wood. Approximately three inches of sharp steel were sandwiched between the dagger's handle and Killian's palm. The heel of his hand and the underside of his forearm glistened with blood all the way down to the elbow. Pulling the dagger free would be inadvisable if she wanted to keep that trickle of blood from becoming a stream. The dispatcher concurred, advising that they wait, if possible. But Emma didn't know how bad the stab wound to his chest was; he could even have a punctured lung on that side, so relieving the tension on the other side may well be the difference between life and death for him.

As she was agonizing over the decision, she sensed movement behind her, and when she glanced back, it was to see Jones staggering up the steps toward them. He was breathing hard, looked pale and sweaty, but didn't stop until he reached the top. Grimacing, he knelt, landing hard next to his doppelganger, whose eyes snapped open as he cringed away. Expecting an attack. Emma squeezed his wrist in reassurance.

"Ahoy there, mate," said Jones softly. He faked a scowl and added, "You know, I haven't forgotten to be miffed at the pair of you and this insane plot of yours."

Gratified by the hint of a pained smile on Killian's lips, Jones turned to address Emma. "Suppose I should offer my help anyway."

Emma eyed him critically. The Ace bandage was now wrapped haphazardly around his injured shoulder, loosely covering the patch of blood spreading on the sackcloth over the bullet wound. She raised an eyebrow. “Sure you're up to it?"

Jones only gave a small, unconvincing twitch of his lips. Emma took her hands away from her husband's injuries long enough to grip the ends of the Ace bandage, which were merely tucked under one another. She gave a sharp tug to tighten it and tied a more secure knot, hissing,

“What the hell happened back there?”

“Not a clue.” Jones closed his eyes in a brief concession to the momentary increase in pain, then nodded his thanks.

The dispatcher on the phone crackled an update in ETA: 20 minutes, give or take. A long time, in which anything could happen. Most of which would be bad.

Emma gave a sigh of resignation. Then she squared her shoulders.

"Think you can help stabilize his hand?" she murmured, and Jones' gaze flicked to the afflicted limb.

"Yeah, of course."

Emma shuffled around to the other side of her husband's legs, closer to the impaling dagger. With a stifled grunt, Jones made room for her. Killian watched, motionless apart from his short, gasping breaths. Forcing herself to turn away from the pain in his eyes, Emma reached for the dagger's handle. Behind her, the detective gently wrapped his hand around Killian's wrist.

In response to the hissed intake of air to her right, Emma caressed Killian's cheek. "You sure?"

Her husband's eyes betrayed just as much fear and reluctance as anguish, but he managed a shaky nod. Emma tightened her grip on the dagger. "On three, then. One..." She heard Killian gasp a preparatory breath, saw him squeeze his eyes shut. "Two..."

On impulse, ignoring the blood and sweat staining his face, Emma initiated a furious kiss, at the same time yanking with all her strength on the trapped blade. The unexpected touch of intimacy worked as a distraction for approximately half a second, as a dazed Killian attempted to reciprocate. But then he was pulling away, howling his agony against her cheek. Emma cursed and braced her free hand against the altar as leverage; long seconds later, the dagger popped free of the wood, inevitably jerking inside Killian's hand despite efforts to keep it still. Though a smear of crimson revealed where a short length of steel had slid free, enough remained within his flesh to hopefully stem the worst of the bleeding.

"It's done; it's out," Emma breathed, reaching for his head and cradling him against her shoulder. She nodded at Jones and, moving in slow tandem, they lowered the impaled limb to rest awkwardly on the floor beside him, the dagger’s handle mere inches from his hip. And Killian's muffled groans were sweet music, proving his continued existence, his ability to draw enough breath to express his pain.

Even from her strange angle, even through the stained sackcloth, Emma could see the wrong position of his shoulder joint. She cringed and stroked the back of Killian's head. Then she gently pulled away, asking,

"Any better?"

Killian rested his head back against the altar and squinted up at her, nodding once but not wasting the energy to speak.

"Not touching that shoulder. Sorry." She spared a glance at Jones, who had sat back and was now massaging his chest despite the length of metal still burrowed into his arm. He grimaced agreement with her decision; even if either of them had the expertise to pop the joint back into place, it had been long enough for swelling and tightening of the tendons and ligaments to make an attempt not worth it.

"Do you want to lie down?"

At first, it looked as if Killian were considering the suggestion. Theoretically, lying him flat could be advisable for multiple reasons, and might make it easier for him to relax, but Emma wanted to leave the choice up to him. In the end, whether he thought he would find it harder to breathe, wanted to avoid the pain of changing positions, or feared the possibility that once he lay down, he may never get up again, Killian answered with a feeble shake of his head.

Emma peeled her jacket off and rolled it into a tight bundle, which she carefully slid behind Killian's head as a makeshift pillow. Her proximity allowed her a better view of the bulky new collar and its set of screws which, up until now, she'd been hoping weren't actually drilled into his neck. That explained at least some of that morning’s screams. Emma scowled, feeling sick; she'd granted that villain far too easy of a death.   

Killian didn't look any more comfortable, but grimaced his gratitude at her before suddenly catching sight of the slumped monster corpse in the distance. He seemed to grow somehow even more pale, warily watching the Vocivore for any sign of movement.

“It's dead?”

Emma rested a reassuring hand on his shin, inadvertently leaving a bloody handprint on a relatively unscathed portion of skin. Killian's eyes were locked on his tormentor, as if his vigilance were the only thing keeping it subdued.

“Shot it myself,” she growled. “So unless the damn thing can regenerate its ugly, pervert brain, we’re finally done with it.”

As she said this, she realized it may not have been the most comforting thing for Killian to hear: they still had a lot to learn about the creature, and the possibility, however slight, of the Vocivore coming back to life gave her a momentary chill. She could only imagine how it made Killian feel.

“Listen,” she said, “Jones and I both have our weapons and will keep an eye on it. But I don't think we need to worry about it.”

“And those slaves over there?” added Jones, his voice only slightly stronger than Killian's had been. “They're lost. Directionless. The first sign of renewed purpose, we’ll know to be on the alert.”

Emma stole a glance in the direction the detective was looking and saw the slaves, some of whom had been holding her captive just moments before, hunched on their knees, faces in hands. One or two lay stretched out flat, silent and still.

"He's right. Leave the guard duty to us; you just focus on hanging in there until the medics come."

Emma did not like the bleak hopelessness with which he reacted to her statement; she knew he was doubting his odds of surviving that long. But he rested his head back and soon had his eyes closed, either deciding to put his trust in her words, or simply too weary to do otherwise.

She tried to remain quiet as she reached across his body for the loose end of the bandage around his left wrist. It appeared to be the same one supplied by Storybrooke General; if its sole purpose was still to cover the wrist ring, it would be of better use staunching some of the oozing injuries on his legs.

“Killian?” she asked, some time later. “How far is Z's and would you be able to tell me how to get there?”

Her husband didn't respond.

“Babe?” A gentle finger on his cheek elicited no response, but he did pull away slightly when she got too near an inflamed abrasion by his eye. His breaths were shallow and quick but regular, and he seemed somehow balanced enough even without much supporting him upright. She was torn between staying to monitor his condition and heading off to see what she could find in the way of first aid supplies.

Watching through half-lidded eyes, Jones reluctantly sat up straighter, rousing himself from a pain-driven daze to offer,

“I'll keep an eye on him, Emma. Go do what you need to do.”

The detective was hardly in a fit state to offer that kind of service; Emma wouldn't have been surprised to watch him be the next one to pass out. But, grunting, Jones got to his knees and made his way to Emma’s side, dutifully nudging her hand away so he could take over the task of applying pressure. With a stubbornness so much like her own Killian, he even went so far as to use the scarred remnants of his left wrist to cover an additional wound, yielding nothing to the anguish that surely wracked his shoulder with the effort. Emma flashed him look of exasperation before clambering to her feet.

“Five minutes,” she promised, then jogged her way out into the desolate afternoon light.

*****

His Master loomed overhead. Large and menacing. A claw was embedded in his shoulder, another in his hand, severing tendons, removing sensation and function from each remaining finger. Killian whimpered, shifting under questing tentacles pressed hard into burning thighs. Emma, the rescue... all a wonderful, horrible hallucination. How much longer would his suffering drag on?

Tentacles dug deeper, and Killian thrashed with all of his remaining strength. He knew his Master demanded obedience, but he couldn't do it. Not again.

A startlingly good impression of his own voice floated down from above. "Hey, easy! Easy there, mate; it's only me."

Nearly hyperventilating now despite unprecedented agony in his chest, Killian continued to struggle; opening his eyes seemed a monumental task and he would only see that hideous face staring down at him anyway. He had no idea what his Master was up to, or how the creature had managed to mimic his voice, but it hardly mattered.

"Killian, mate; I promise I'm not trying to hurt you. I swear. In truth, I intend to wait until you're fully recovered. And then... well, after that, all bets are off. You bloody wanker."

Those words sounded nothing like any his Master had ever said before. Perhaps he was hallucinating this as well? Killian groaned quietly, then peeled his eyes open.

Detective Jones sat beside Killian's knee, holding pressure on some of the punctures to his inner thigh. The man looked utterly spent, had a blood soaked bandage wrapped carelessly around a shoulder, and wore a grim expression, but his eyes were soft. Upon locking gazes with Killian, the detective flashed a wan smile.

"That's it. See? Nothing to fear now."

Killian remained unconvinced that it wasn't a dream. He scanned the desecrated church, feeling dazed and slightly drunk; his eyes would not follow a steady path and he couldn't make sense of everything he was seeing. He winced and tried to relieve some of the strain on his shoulder, to no avail.

"If you're looking for Emma, she's just stepped out for a bit," Jones told him. "In search of bandages and a blanket."

"Emma..." croaked Killian.

"She'll be back soon," soothed the detective, hiding a wince himself as he shifted his weight. "And not much longer until other help arrives as well."

Killian brought his focus back on the face identical to his own, blinking heavy eyelids and fighting massive disorientation. "How...?"

Jones gave a wry grin. "Your Swan confessed. I know everything now. You great bloody git. You know your in-laws are going to murder you as well?"

"Can't murder... a corpse... mate..."

"No, no... you're not getting out of it that easily." Jones checked that his hand was still covering the wound before continuing. "You're obligated to stay alive; otherwise, who will we exact our vengeance upon?"

Killian's eyes fluttered closed against his will. "The Crocodile... it was his gadget... made this possible."

Jones laughed once. "Okay, I'm not averse to that idea... but as I understand it, he’s only one third of the responsible party."

Killian could not keep up the conversation. He was in too much anguish and found his concentration slipping. Jones seemed to sense this and fell silent, but after a moment of quiet, he murmured,

"I understand, mate. I do. And I can't say I would have done anything differently, given the opportunity you had."

Killian made an attempt at a grateful smile. But a sudden stab of pain took his breath away, stifling any chance at a reply. Through the gasping breaths that followed, he thought he heard the scrape of the off-kilter door being dragged open, but it could have been his imagination, as well.

It wasn't. Killian heard footsteps, urgent and self-assured, scuffling along the well-worn paving stones of the sanctuary in a manner very distinct from the ominous clicking he had grown accustomed to fearing. From an impossibly great distance, the garbled voice of his beloved called out,

"How's he doing?"

"Still with us," reported Jones, similarly remote. "I was just telling him how much trouble the pair of you are in."

Killian shuddered at the arrival of another being; it was so deeply ingrained that even the fuzzy outline of Emma's calmly worried face could not overcome the instinct. Her gentle touch on his knee sent a shock of pain and fear sizzling down to his toes. He hissed, then stammered an apology. Emma ignored the reaction. She had in her grip a ragged brown blanket, which she unfurled and gently spread over his lower body.

"Almost," she promised in a whisper. Unrolling other scraps of fabric intended as temporary bandages, she added, "I'm pretty sure I heard sirens out there. This is almost over."

Even in his near-stupor, Killian somehow made sense of the words. He exhaled once, closed his eyes, and began to silently weep.

#ouat fanfiction #killian jones #emma swan #wish realm killian #whump #bleeding #exhaustion #impalement #stabbed #difficulty breathing #passing out #crying #first aid #hurt comfort #Vocivore ltd

[wigglebox]

like okay example of a queer tragedy playing out that i literally just watched in the umbrella academy:

ya got a queer character (klaus) who has a power that really fucks him up and terrifies him which is speaking and conjurign the dead. so much fear he doesn’t actually know the true power of it. 

anyways, because he’s always chasing the next high, after he was freed from being tortured by two time travelers for information, he steals their briefcase to try and see if there’s money inside of it. idk for drugs, for payback, who cares. he just kept hoping there was money in it. he opens the briefcase, and then disappears. 

later, we find out it’s a briefcase the time travelers use to hop the timeline to perform assassinations to keep the timeline correct. klaus gets thrown into the vietnam war in 1968. if you know your vietnam war history, this was a horrible year and it started with the tet offensive from the north vietnamese. klaus is thrown, literally, into a tent with a bunch of soldiers. the one person who really notices him is dave. they throw a uniform at him and tell him to go to combat. 

we are then shown a brief look into their relationship. 

when klaus had come back to the bus (this is before we learned about dave or where he went) he shows up with dog tags, an army shirt of some kind, and bloodied hands. he basically has a break down and destroys the briefcase during a song that clearly hints at love loss. 

turns out dave was shot and killed right next to klaus while on the front lines. 

post-time travel, klaus is in a deeeeep dark place but then starts to pull himself out of it. however, when he’s finally able to see dave (remember, he can conjure the dead) he’s ripped back in time again by his brother to fix something. the only other time he sees dave is in an apparition on a club dance floor. it’s a memory of when dave was shot and killed. you see inthis scene, and in the call back to when dave was actually shot and killed, proper mourning by the person who was by his side for 10 months. do we see the whole 10 months? hell naw. but we don’t need to because the writing, directing, and story is so good, you didn’t need to. it was all believeable, and understood. 

you are still given dialogue and actions by klaus that shows how deep the relationship was. did one of them die? yes. but they died in a way that many men died in that war. they were senseless deaths, brought on by a senseless war. dave wasn’t killed because he had mental illness or because he was queer. and you see proper grieving. you see proper reflection on the relationship, and you see the aftermath. There’s no stringing anyone along. It’s angst and tragedy without disrespect. no disrespect to veterans of the vietnam war, and no disrespect to queer characters and audience members.

that’s how you can do tragedy and angst with queer characters without making it a ‘shock and horror’ show just to prove you can kill queer people with menal illness. was it perfect? no. 

but, you’re even given a sign of hope since klaus comes into his powers at the very end of the season, and knowing he can already get to dave (at least once or twice) it’s a promise that there may still be more to come with them. 

 anyways. i’ll stop ranting about fuck ups with media and queer culture. maybe. probably not. 

also ETA: this whole thing applies to actors who are leaving a series. you don’t. need. to. treat. their. characters. like. that. 

#original #text #long post #sera gamble tw #gonna just put a tw next to her name #idk if i know what the fuck i'm talking about but as someone who studied a lot abuot the vietnam war #and someone who hates HATES needless deaths with queer relationships #i found this one both sad and heartbreaking but in the right ways #tua #umbrella academy #the magicians

[unavenged-robin]

“I can’t breathe” + Damian Wayne

I know nobody believes me anymore, but this was supposed to be a very brief ficlet. Anyway. I thrown in Jason as a bonus because I miss writing about the two of them bonding in life or death situations. Enjoy.

Contrary to popular belief (that he liked to reinforce himself every chance he got), Jason didn’t hate having Damian tagging along with him for patrol. He actually found it kinda funny, mostly because the kid was so serious and liked to fight hard and without too much chattering just like his father, and it amused him to no end to watch the confusion and the fear on the faces of the random thugs they happened to be fighting when they got the living shit beaten out of them by a kid that barely came up to their chests. It was endearing.

“I found the burned warehouse”, Robin’s voice announced through the comm, and Jason checked his coordinates.

“Coming”, he answered, after a moment. “ETA three minutes.”

There were a few seconds of white noise on the other line, and then Damian spoke again: “There are people trapped in the basement. And considering the damage made by the fire, the structure is likely to collapse on itself sooner rather than later.”

“Robin”, Jason warned, shooting his grapple at the nearest building. “I said I’m coming.”

This.

This was the only thing he really didn’t like about patrolling with the youngest of their clan (other than Damian being a brat, of course). The sense of responsibility that came with it. Even with Damian being the furthest thing from a defenseless kid, there was still the undeniable evidence that he was, in fact, a kid. That made Jason not only the adult in charge, but also the one that was going to be blamed if anything went wrong - which, considering Damian, was a very likely probability.

“There’s only one way to access the basement, and it’s too small for you anyway”, Damian duly argued, and Jason swore under his breath and started running even if he knew it was a lost cause already.

“I’m almost there, and if I don’t find you above ground I’m going to sell you to the circus”, he growled anyway, hoping that the jab would irritate the kid enough to make him stay put for the handful of seconds he needed to reach him.

“…Damian?”

“I hear children crying”, and Jason could hear the frown in the kid’s voice. “According to your intel, it should’ve been one of the Penguin’s abandoned storehouse, so why there are crying children in the basement?”

The way Damian stressed out the words to imply Jason’s incompetence irked him enough to make him snap. “I don’t fucking know, Robin. Just wait for me.”

White noise again.

It took him two minutes and fifteen seconds to get to the place and find out that Damian - of course - hadn’t even considered the idea of waiting for him. Jason swore again, and punched the comm as soon as he landed on the ground.

“Where the hell are you?”, he asked. “And how do I get there to kick your ass?”

“There is a vent opening on the back of the building, near the railing”, Damian answered. “Shush.”

“Shush?”, Jason repeated, momentarily more surprised than pissed off at the idea of the kid shushing him.

“We’re going to get you out of there, okay?”, Damian’s voice continued in a quiet, almost soft voice, and Jason realized he wasn’t talking to him at all. He found the opening quickly enough: a small manhole attached to some kind of rusty conduct. Probably an old vent, like Damian said. Jason could barely slip both his arms in there, so he waited and continued to listen to Damian speaking to the kids. It was new to him, and kinda weird, to hear Damian trying to comfort someone. How he tried to sound reassuring with big words and enough self-confidence to fill a man twice his size. It made Jason smile.

“Hood? Can you see me?”

Jason looked down the vent and yes, he could see Damian eight feet below the ground, looking up at him with a four, maybe five years old little girl clinging to his neck.

“That’s cute”, Jason teased. “We should tell Batdad that you need a little sister. I don’t think it’d take too much work to persuade him and Catmom to make you one.”

“Shut up”, Damian growled and yes, this time he was talking to Jason. “And take her.”

Jason laughed and reached down for the kid while Damian lifted her as much as he could. It took some adjustment, but in the end he was able to hoist the little girl up into his lap.

“Hey”, he smiled at her. “Gimme a moment and we’ll go get you some ice cream, yeah?”

She was covered in dirt and looked like hell, but she still smiled back at him easily and with too much trust.

“Hood, there are five other kids down here and the walls are about to crumble down”, Robin hissed. “Maybe you could get a move?”

“No ice cream for you”, Jason answered. “And you get a move, Robin. Since you got yourself in there in the first place”, he reminded him.

Damian grumbled something intentionally unintelligible and went to collect another kid. They worked fast and managed to get four other children out (six little girl, Jason beared in mind, feeling his blood boil. Six little girl, no older than five, held into a basement of an abandoned warehouse. Once they were done here he would take Damian home, and then he was going to have a chat with Cobblepot. A very long, hard, violent chat) but the last one took one look up the vent, saw Jason’s Red Hood helmet peering down, and started to cry so suddenly and so hysterically to actually make Damian, who was holding her, jump in surprise.

“What the hell?”, Damian bellowed in response, a little too loud and a little too angry for the already scared little girl to bear, and the following scramble between the two kids would’ve been amusing to Jason, if not for the fact that the crying and the swearing were both covered up by a louder, deeper grumble coming from the basement itself.

Before they could do anything there was a snap, then an eruption of dust that forced Jason to withdraw for a moment.

“Shit”, he and Damian said at the same time.

“Get up here, Robin. Now”, Jason urged, looking down the vent again, but the kids had already disappeared from his sight, swallowed by a cloud of dust. He could only hear coughing and more crying.

“Not enough space for both of us”, Damian yelled up at him, and then, softly, at the girl: “You need to calm down. There’s no need to be scared. He’s going to help you.”

But the girl was even more terrified now. She was blinded and suffocated and alone with two strangers. Her sobbing was heart wrenching and Jason could tell that Damian was starting to panic too.

“Shit”, Jason repeated, then he took off his helmet and tried to conjure up his best child-friendly smile, despite the urge to yell and kick something. If something were to happen to Damian, Dick and Bruce would kill him together, and then Alfred would hide his corpse by feeding it off to Titus and Batcow and whatever other pet the kid had hoarded in the meanwhile. Jason was sure of that.

“Hey, hey, hey”, he called out, trying to catch the girl’s attention once the dust cleared up a bit. He could still see only a little more than shadows, and he doubted the kids could see him any better than he could see them, but he tried anyway: “Look, I took the helmet off. See? Not a bad face, uh?”

In the meanwhile Damian was trying to rock the little girl - not an easy task, considering that he wasn’t that much bigger than her - talking again with his softer voice, sputtering out what sounded like every reassuring word he could think of.

There was another loud series of snaps and crackling of metal and old wood. The girls behind him were now whimpering because of the cold, and Jason started considering all the ways he could enlarge the hole enough to lower himself inside without making the situation worse, but it was impossible.

“You can trust him, I promise”, Damian was saying between coughs, voice tired and hushed and desperately urgent. “He’s my- he’s my big brother. He’s good. He’s a good person. He will buy you an ice cream.”

Jason tried to smile and held out his hand again. It took a few others soothing promises from both him and Damian before the little girl actually reached out to take it, and Jason sighed in relief when his fingers finally closed around the child’s tiny wrist. He smiled at her again while settling her down safely on the ground beside him, then he held his hand out into the vent one final time, ready to take Damian out of there and put an end to the whole night.

Except that Damian wasn’t looking up at him anymore. His head was lowered down between his shoulders, he was shaking with coughs and his hands were on the wall in front of him like he needed the support to not fall down.

“Robin?”, Jason called out in the same voice he used with the little girls. “Kid, come on. I need to take you out of there, you’ll rest in a moment, I promise.”

Damian shook his head, still not looking up at him. Jason felt the worry turning into a sharp pang of panic.

“Dam- Robin, come on. Just one little jump and we’re done, okay? I was lying on the ice cream, I’ll buy one for you too.”

Damian was shaking harder now.

“Can’t breath”, finally came the answer, and it was so choked Jason only heard it through the comm.

“Do you have your rebreather?”, he asked, but it was a stupid question, and he knew it. If the kid had a rebreather on him he would’ve used without any prompt from Jason.

“Okay. Okay. That’s fine. Look, I have mine right here, okay? You only have to take my hand, alright?”

Another fit of coughs.

“I can’t-”

“Robin”, Jason barked in his best imitation of the Batman’s voice, and he startled the kid enough to make him look up again. He offered him his hand for the second time, stretching his arm as far as he could into the vent, and repeated, gentler this time: “One little jump, kid. C’mon.”

He couldn’t see the kid’s face behind the thin cloud of dust that still hung between them, but he saw his body language changing and a moment later Damian straightened himself up in determination. In the space of time between two heartbeats, Damian took a choked breath, clenched his fists, then jumped. When their fingers touched, Jason was struck by the sicken certainty that he wasn’t going to be able to hold on, that Damian’s jump had been too short and he would’ve slipped away and fallen. But it was only a moment. Their hands closed into a monkey grip and the gauntlets offered enough friction to not let either of their holds slip away.

One instant later Jason had hauled Damian up into his arms, with just a little more force than necessary. But the kid collapsed against Jason’s chest, swallowing down big gulps of fresh air, and didn’t complain one bit.

“Easy now. Easy”, Jason instructed softly, one hand rubbing the kid’s back, the other cupping the back of his head. “In and out. In and out. Take little breaths or you’ll pass out.”

This time, Damian obeyed him. He slowed down his frantic attempts of taking in as much air as he could, and tried to imitate Jason’s breathing. He also shifted into the hold to cling to Jason’s neck and hide his face against his brother’s shoulder. Jason let him settle down, then rested his cheek on top of the boy’s head.

“Jeez Louise, kid”, he sighed. “Let’s not do that again, yeah?”

Damian didn’t answer, but his fingers tightened around the fabric of his jacket in what Jason decided to read as acquiescence. Keeping Damian close, he sat down on the ground and looked around for the girls. He found them cuddled together a few feet from them.

“We need to call the police and an ambulance”, he said, more to himself than to the kids in front of him, or to the one into his arms.

“Already done”, Damian mumbled anyway. “While I was waiting for you.”

“That must’ve been a very brief call, then”, Jason retorted, but not too harshly. He wasn’t in the mood for a lecture right now, not with Damian slumped down safely into his arms and six little girls looking at him with big, wet, scared eyes. “Your big brother, uh?”, he asked instead, unable to stop himself.

“I was suffocating”, Damian reminded him with a groan. “Also, legally I cannot be held responsible of what I say in a situation of danger.”

“That’s undercover cops, kiddo”, Jason laughed. “Dick is making you watch too many tv shows. You ready to get up and go home?”

He felt Damian shift again, his forehead now resting against the side of Jason’s neck. His breathing was still a little strained, but overall he finally sounded okay when he spoke again.

“First I want my ice cream.”

#damian wayne #jason todd #my fic #2k followers prompt thing #Anonymous #asks #shari writes