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twice-my-age-simp · 2 days

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You can't be with her!

KateBishopxFem!reader, WandaNatxDaughter!reader

Warnings: little bit of angst, fluff, smut, making out, strap-on, top!Kate

Summary: Your moms found out about your relationship with Kate and are not happy with it. They want to keep you safe, unintentionally hurting you while doing that.

Notes: Sorry for my long absence. Here's a new one shot for you. I think it's the longest work I've ever written so far. Enjoy reading this piece.

Word count: 5.2k

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You knew you were in trouble. It was obvious. Especially after they broke into the house and you saw a very angry ex-assassin and a very pissed witch in the living room. But, let’s start from the beginning ‘cause what a story it is.

8 hours earlier

“No, there is no way.” your mom said firmly, standing in the kitchen with her hands on her hips. You stood up from your chair and walked closer to her.

“Why? You can’t just do that.” you fighted back. You couldn’t believe this is happening and centrally won’t let it become the truth. You love your moms and you know they always try to do what’s best for you, but this time they were in the wrong.

“I can and I just did. You can’t see Kate anymore.” Nat said with a stern look, tightening her jaw. You turned from her to your other mom. “Mama, won’t you say anything?” you asked, a pleading look on your face.

Wanda, who was standing and listening to the conversation this whole time, walked closer to her wife. “Y/N, sweety, we’re just looking out for you.” she answered gently. You felt absolutely helpless, hurt and angry.

“You can’t make this decision for me. It’s my life and my relationship.” you spoked, hoping that they will change their minds.

“You are our daughter and still a child. It is as we say.” Nat added, not backing up. It’s hard to fight an assassin, even if it is not a physical fight. “Listen, we don’t want to be the bad guys here or make your life miserable. It’s just..” Nat signed. “Kate is an Avenger. This job is very dangerous and being with her can put you in life threatening danger. It’s already risky considering that you are our daughter.“

“I’m not a child anymore, I’m 21 years old. Nothing bad will happen to me. Please, I love her. Y-you can’t do that.” your eyes started to fill up with tears, your voice’s slowly breaking.

“I’m sorry, but that’s final.” Hearing that, you rushed to your room, locking yourself in it. You threw yourself on your bed and started crying.

Everything was good before. Your moms didn’t know about your relationship. You successfully kept it from them for a little over a year, always saying that you were going out with some friends. But of course, they had to walk in on you and Kate making out in the training room when you were visiting the Avengers in the compound, because they had some stuff to take care of. Nat immediately took you to the car. The drive home was silent, but when you got inside, they started saying that you needed to end things with Kate for “your own good”.

You picked up your phone, opened contacts and dialed the phone number. It was three rings after that the person answered. “Hi, Y/N.” said the angelic voice on the other side. It was all it took you to utter a sob, breaking down more from just hearing her. “Y/N? What’s wrong? Does it have something to do with your moms finding out about us?” Kate asked with a concerned tone. You didn’t want to tell her about your fight because it would make it true and you couldn’t let that happen. However, Kate deserves to know. Maybe you can come up with a solution and everything will be great again. At least you hoped so.

“Kate-” you sobbed. “They want me to break up with you.” you cried out. Silence enveloped the room. You didn’t know if it was because she hung up or she was shocked. Pulling the phone from your ear, you looked at the screen; okay, she’s still there. “Kate? Please, say something.”

After a few seconds, you heard her say, you think she’s also crying. “I don’t know what to say.” she cleared her throat and added. “There’s nothing I can do? Maybe they can still change their mind?”

“I don’t think so.” You said. The truth is, if there was anything that would change this, you would already do it. Sad reality hit you. Your moms don’t want you to be with Kate. Then you wondered if it was even important to you. I mean, of course, you want them to approve of your relationship, but they don’t. They just don’t understand that she’s the love of your life. Your whole heart. Your everything. At that moment, you made up your mind. “You know what? I don’t care what they say; I want to be with you. I love you, Kate. ” you said, determined, wiping the tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand. Your moms are not gonna come in between your love life. You won’t let them.

“I love you too and I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Are you sure, though? I mean, they are your moms. I don’t want your relationship with them to be destroyed because of me.” Kate said, her voice slowly quieting. You can’t help but feel your heart grow bigger with love for her if it is still even possible. She cares about you so much, you couldn’t be more sure about your decision.

“Yes, I want to be with you forever, Katie.” you said truthfully. “I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“I can’t imagine my life without you too. What are we gonna do about your moms?” she asked.

“I don’t know, yet.” you said. You didn’t like to lie to your moms, but in this case, you feel like you have to. “Maybe we can meet up today? I can say that I need to go for a walk to clear my mind or something. You can park your car a few streets away.” you said hopefully. “Sure, be there in an hour.” With that, you ended the call.

Kate will be here in an hour, so you intend to spend this time on getting ready. You had to wear something not too fancy for a walk but not too ugly for a hangout with your girlfriend. ‘Girlfriend’, after all this time you’ve been together, you still can’t believe you get to call her that. It makes your heart flutter every time.

After some time of thinking about what to wear and getting mentally ready to lie to your moms, you were ready to leave. Walking down the stairs, you opt to look upset, but without it looking weird. You know it is hard to lie to a witch and an ex-assassin.

You slowly made your way to put on some shoes when someone called from behind. “And where are you going, young lady?” You turned to see Nat with her arms crossed. “I hope it isn’t the girl I clearly said is dangerous for you to hang out with.” She said sternly.

That got your blood boiling. “If you want to know, I’m going for a walk to clear my head, because my mother said I can’t be with the love of my life!” You shouted, tears started to well up again. Nat stood a little shocked at the outburst but quickly recovered. “Quit the tone; you know I do this for your safety. I just want to protect you.” She said the last part a little softer.

“Whatever.” You said and walked out of the house, shutting the door.

You turned left and started going down the street; hopefully Kate is already there. As you walk, you make yourself slightly more presentable, fixing the hair and wiping the tears that once again started to flow because of the encounter with your mom. Turning left, you see Kate’s car parked on the side of the road. Smiling, you increased your speed and got into the car.

“Hi-” Kate didn’t manage to greet you because you immediately pulled her by her shirt into a long, passionate kiss. Your fist, full of the fabric, pulled Kate closer. Her hands flew to grip the back of your neck. Both missed the physical contact. Your lips, made to fit like two pieces, were moving against each other, stealing breath. Your lungs started to feel like they were on fire, but that didn't stop you from giving yourself to Kate in that kiss.

After a few minutes, you pull away from the kiss but still keep close to Kate. Your hand full of her shirt slightly loosens, yet the grip is still there. “Sorry, I just really missed you.” You said, looking down flustered. Finally, your eyes moved up, looking deeply into hers. “Hi.” you added after a moment of silence.

Kate smiled at you. “Hi.” She replied, giggling breathlessly. “I missed you too. So much.”

It’s so stupid how her smile and the little glint in her eyes can make you all giggly and weak in knees. You know you loved her to the moon and back, you can’t give up on your relationship just because your moms tell you to, not when everything in you is screaming that Kate is the endgame, your endgame.

“Hey, hey, hey. What's wrong?” you felt Kate's hands on your face, thumbs wiping your cheeks. You didn't realize that you were crying. Every emotion's built up in you, and right when you saw her, you just had to let it all go. “It's just, I don't want to be away from you. I love you so much and I'm sick of this sneaking out, or my moms telling me that I can’t be with you.” you sniffled, looking into her eyes. “God, you are everything I want. I want to be with you forever. When I think about my future, I see you and me, and I don’t care what our lives will look like as long as we are together; that's everything I want.” You really poured your heart out there. It’s not typical for you to be this vulnerable in front of Kate—actually in front of anyone; you’ve always kept everything to yourself.

Now that you think of it, you think you might have scared Kate. She’s silent, just staring at you, hands still on your face. You think you blew it, that it was too much for her. After all, you’ve been dating for only a little over a year. Thoughts started to flood your mind, creating the worst scenarios and just when you were about to apologize-

“Marry me.” Kate said, her face not showing any emotions. You were speechless; did you hear it right? Kate asked you to marry her? Well, it wasn’t really a question, more like as if she just admitted to herself that she wants to marry you. Nonetheless, there is still a part of you that believes that you heard it wrong. “What?” You breathed out, your eyes searching for reassurance in hers.

“Marry me.” She repeated more confidently this time as if coming back to life. “I’m serious. I know that we haven’t been dating for long, but I also want to be with you forever. I love you and I don’t want to be with anyone else; you are the only one for me. I want everything with you, I want you. This won’t be easy, but that’s great. Easy is boring.” you both giggled at that. “This is reckless and not normal at all, but let’s just be for real. We are reckless and nothing in our lives is normal, I mean, your moms are a witch and an ex-assassin and I am an Avenger. Nothing ever was normal and nothing will be, and frankly, I love it this way.” Kate ended her heartwarming speech with a big smile on her face, tears now also in her eyes. “So, Y/N Romanoff, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” You said matching her smile. “Of course I will marry you.” Pulling the shirt you still had a grip on, you pull Kate into a slow kiss, filled with salty tears. You think you’ve never been so sure about anything in your life. Honestly, that’s all you ever wanted, to marry the love of your life and that is marrying Kate Bishop.

“Good, cause I thought for a second that I went too far.” Kate started to ramble after pulling away. You thought that the best way to stop her from that was to kiss her again. It didn’t last long though, because after a few seconds she pulled back again. She turned so she’s sitting straight, her back to the seat, and started to wave her hands around. “Oh my, I need to buy a ring. God! I’m so unprepared!” You tried to stop her by calling her name, but that didn’t really work.

“Katherine Elizabeth Bishop!” Using her full name did work. She stopped immediately and looked at you. You giggled at her. “You need to stop worrying about that. I want to marry you, not the ring. I don’t need any rings, just you, okay?” Kate looked at you as if looking for clarification, then she cutely tilted her head and pouted and that just made you want to kiss her.

“I know, but I really want to get you a ring. You deserve that, you deserve a big proposal with-with rose petals, a nice dinner and a big diamond ring, not this. A girl who proposes in her car without even a paper ring.” She started having doubts about herself; you could see that. “I love that girl. I don’t need some rich and stuck-up proposal. I couldn’t have imagined it better than this.” You made sure she was looking at you as you said that to her. That was the truth, so you wanted her to believe you.

“Okay.. okay.” Kate clears her throat, then adds. “So, shall we go and get married now?” you both smiled at each other. Reaching for seat belts in order to fasten them, you answered. “Yes, we shall.”

It turned out it wasn’t that easy. You had to have witnesses. After some thinking, you reached out to Aunt Yelena, while Kate called Clint. Although it took some convincing to get the old man to drive here because, as he said, he doesn’t want to ‘deal with angry mothers anymore’, whatever that means, he might have been referring to Laura, but you’re not sure; you also think that he really just didn’t want to move his three letters.

Well, eventually, he agreed. Yelena didn’t need this much convincing; well, she didn’t need to be convinced at all. She said she’d be happy to piss off her sister; she mentioned something about getting back at her for borrowing, without her knowing, one of her vests and then destroying it on a mission, but you could have misheard.

Kate got anxious again, but this time about clothing. Both of you wore casual clothes, not right for a marriage. So that’s how you got dragged by Kate for a little shopping. It took you both a while, but in Kate's eyes it was worth it, because now you and her looked good.

It wasn’t long before you and Kate signed up the marriage license with Clint and Yelena next to you, and you were good to go. You bit your goodbyes with them, then made your way to Kate’s car. While you were both sitting, the car still not turned on, you realized what just happened. ”We just got married.” Kate stated firmly, her face not showing any emotions while looking straight ahead. You turned your head to look at her. ”We just got married.” She repeated, now with a big smile on her face. Also turning her head to you, she started to giggle. Hearing her laughter, you started to giggle yourself, also not believing that this is real.

Kate leaned in and brought her hand to the back of your neck to pull your foreheads together. ”You are my wife.” She said breathlessly. ”I am your wife.” You said in the same tone. Your wife pulled you into a long, passionate kiss. ”Damn, your moms are really gonna kill me now” Kate said after pulling away. This caused you both to burst out laughing. “Well, if this is my last hour, how about we make the best of it and go back to mine, my wife?“ She asked with a smirk on her face, clearly insinuating on doing something really not PG. Your cheeks turned slightly red, but you matched her smirk. “Lead the way, my wife.”

You’re sure that your superhero broke a few laws driving you to her apartment. Both of you are very eager and excited for what awaits you there. So as soon as the door was closed, Kate pushed you into it, trapping you between the wooden surface and her. Hands flying to your hips, squeezing and pushing more against the hardwood. Lips mingling with yours fastily, tongue pushing into your mouth, exploring the inside. Next thing you know, she was tagging at your pants, trying to take them off. Once you’re free from them, Kate’s hands traveled from your hips, over your ass, stopping on it for a second to squeeze, and then went downwards to the back of your thighs. With one swift movement, you were pulled from the door for a second, only to be pushed against it again, but this time with your legs around Kate’s waist.

Her kisses moved from your lips to nip at your neck, for sure, leaving lots of hickeys. You leaned your head back, revealing more skin on your neck. The particular bite on your pulse point made you moan. Your hands flew to her hair in order to pull her closer. With a mind full of thoughts about Kate, you breathlessly conhered some words. “B-bedroom… now.” you gasped when suddenly Kate pulled you both away from the door and started to blindly walk towards the bedroom. While you were stumbling across the living room, you threw your bag on the table, or at least you hoped it landed on the table, not caring about stuff inside. Though you’re pretty sure that your bag opened from the impact.

After some struggling, your back hit the bed with Kate on top of you. Lips once again connected, Kate started grinding her hips on yours. Suddenly, you felt it—the hardness underneath her pants. “Is-is that-?” You stuttered, then moaned because Kate pressed herself harder on you, so you feel it against your core.

“Mhm, a new one.” Kate smirked at you and again pushed her hips into yours, making you gasp. She leaned down to your neck and started to mark you everywhere she could. When she got to your pulse point, you moaned and gripped the back of her head, burying your fingers into her hair, pulling her closer. You feel hands tagging at your shirt. With your arms up, Kate swiftly takes off your shirt, leaving you in only your panties and bra. However, it doesn’t take long for her to also remove these undergarments. “So pretty.. so delicious, just for me to taste.” Kate’s hands started to wander.

Wanting to see more of Kate, you unbuttoned her shirt, slid it down her arms and then the shirt joined the rest of the clothes on the ground in the bedroom. Your hands immediately flew to her arms to feel her strong muscles. Then, to her abdomen, where she clearly has abs. “One of many perks of being an Avenger; lots of training that makes you have these muscles.” You stare in awe, biting your lip.

Kate leaned down again and nipped at your skin, making her path from your neck to your chest. She took your left nipple in her mouth, sucking on it hard, while her other hand squeezed the right breast. After some time, she switched the breasts and started sucking on the right one. ”Please, Kate… I want you.. now.” you pleaded.

Not wanting to tease you, just this night, Kate pulled away and took off the rest of her clothes, revealing the strap-on. “Purple?” You chuckle a little.

“What? I look good in purple.” Kate grinned and once again got on top of you. The strap was rubbing against your clit, making you shut your eyes and groan softly. “You want my cock, sweetheart?” Kate asked, rubbing her strap even harder.

“Yes! Please, Kate, I want your cock. Please fuck me.” You desperately rumble, your mind full of thoughts of how she can ruin you. This strap is definitely bigger than what you were used to, but you are willing to try this, considering how wet you are for her.

Kate leaned to your ear to whisper. “As you wish, babygirl.” Right after that, she harshly pushed at least a half of the strap in your pussy. Your moans and grunts get louder as she continues to slide in. “Fuck, baby. Always so tight for me.” You shut your eyes tightly as you feel more and more fuller with every second.

Finally, your hips were flush against each other. Your breath is more ragged as you try to get used to the fullness. “Kate… s-so full, fuck, so big” you moaned. After a few more seconds, Kate started to pull out and thrust her hips forward, causing you to let out a loud scream.

Your moans only encouraged Kate to keep going. The thrusts were much harder now; it made your head spin. You wrapped your arms around her back, burying your nails into it. Kate hissed into your ear from the harsh scratches, but it fuelled her to give you more. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the slapping of your hips with every thrust. “Kate- shit… I’m going to-” you are cut off by a hoarse groan that bursts out of your throat when Kate hits one particular place.

“It’s okay. Let go for me, baby.” Kate said breathlessly. That was all you needed, and soon your eyes rolled back. You arched your back into her, threw your head back and let out a silent scream. Kate was still thrusting into you as you were falling over the edge.

After you calmed down, she slowly pulled out of you. You groaned at the emptiness as you were trying to catch your breath. Kate was peppering your body with soft kisses. When she got up to your face, you smiled at each other. “That- that was incredible.” you said panting. “Glad you liked it, my love.” she pecked your lips. With a swift move, you turned you both over, so Kate was now on her back with you on top of her. “Let me return the favor.” you grinned and leaned down to kiss her.

*****

You were lying on the bed with your head on Kate’s chest. Your arm around her abdomen, leg between hers. Kate has her arm wrapped around your bare body. The covers were loosely thrown on both of you as you were lying together in your own, quiet bubble.

“You know… I was thinking..” Kate started. You turned your head to look at her and wait for her to continue. “Since we are married now” this made you smile. You still can’t believe that this is real and that Kate is your wife now. “Maybe, if you want… you could move in with me.” your eyes widen at her words. A smile spread across your face. You lifted slightly from the bed to move closer to her and give her a passionate kiss in which you couldn’t stop smiling. The same goes for Kate.

When you pulled out, you looked her in the eyes. “Of course I want to move in with you!” you both had such big smiles on your faces that your cheeks started to ache. “Great! I was scared for a second that you wouldn’t want that. What will you tell your moms, though? Maybe you should-” as Kate continued to rumble, your heart stopped. Shit. Your moms, they don’t know anything, AND you said you were going for a walk, which is now about six hours long. Shit, shit. Your phone has been on silent since you went to get married. They probably called you and texted you a million times.

“Shit, my moms! They have to wonder where I am!” you said cutting her off and quickly got out of bed, panicking. You throw on yourself one of Kate’s hoodies, put on your panties and some Kate’s shorts. At the corner of your eye, you see that Kate also got up and started to get dressed. You left the bedroom and headed towards the living room, where you left your phone in the bag. Just as you walked into the living room space, your heart stopped at the sight.

So, now you know the story behind why an angry witch and a pissed-off ex-assassin broke into the apartment and were standing in the living room. They had their hands on their hips, with scowls on the faces. “Mom, mama-” You were immediately caught off. “Don’t mamas us!” Wanda scoffed. She rarely got angry, she preferred to do things the calm way. However, when she did get angry, oh boy, hide if you can.

They had every right to be angry and you knew it. So you chose to stay silent this time. “Do you want to explain where you’ve been?” Nat asked with her jaw locked tight. “And why, when I called Clint to ask if he knew something about your whereabouts, he said that he doesn’t want to get involved anymore?” this time Wanda spoke. “Or why, when I called Yelena to ask if she knew something, she just laughed and hung up?” Natasha added. It was as if they talked it through, because they were literally changing after one sentence. It was creepy. “You lied to us, went radio silent and met up with the one person we specifically told you not to see!”

The person, as if on cue, came into the living room and stopped dead in tracks. “Mrs. Romanoff and..” Kate cleared her throat “Mrs. Romanoff.” She stood right next to you, her eyes locked on anything but your moms. The thick tension could be cut with a knife. You didn’t know what they would do now, with Kate next to you.

“And here’s the person in the flesh.” stated firmly Natasha, her eyes shooting daggers at Kate. “Mom, please.” you pleaded. You didn’t want this place to turn into a war zone. “Please what? Y/N, we've forbidden you from seeing her and the next thing you did after that was see her! You don-”

“What is that?” Wanda stopped Natasha from further shouting at you as she noticed something. You turned your head where she was looking, and your face turned pale. Wands was looking at the coffee table where you had thrown your bag earlier. The bag opened from the impact and some things fell out of it on the table. One of the things was your and Kate's marriage license. Your heart stuck in your throat as Wanda walked closer to it. She reached for the paper, picked it up and for a moment there was silence. But only for a short moment.

“You got married?!” Wanda shouted, turning to face you and Kate. Now she was really, really angry. Like the kind of angry when she has her eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed so that they are almost touching, and the worst, the little tilt in her head. Now you were fucked. “You what?!” this time Natasha shouted.

“I-... we just..” you wanted to say something, but didn't know what. What do you say in a situation like that, though? It was tough, but fortunately Kate noticed that you were struggling and decided to speak for you. She reached her hand to yours and interlaced your fingers together. Kate cleared her throat, mentally preparing herself for anything that could happen after she spoke. “We did. We got married today.” you didn't think that was possible, but silence was never this loud.

“Why would you do that? And without any of us knowing” Wanda spoke angrily as she handed the married license to Nat.

Natasha read the license, still not believing what she just heard. Her eyes stopped at one point. “Bishop? You changed your last name to Bishop?” Natasha asked in disbelief, interrupting Wanda. “Yeah…” you said, unsure, waiting for the explosion from your parents.

However, there is something else on their faces. Hurt? Disappointment? Sadness? You couldn't tell, but you knew you didn't like it. “Mom, mama, please don't look at me like that.” you said sadly, there is a stone in your heart. “I've never wanted to get married without you there, but I also didn’t want to marry anyone but Kate. And you specifically told me that I can't be with her… I just.. I couldn't let that happen. I just want you to be happy for me.” you reasoned, tears once again pricking in your eyes. You felt Kate's hand smoothing your back, which calmed you a little.

“Mrs. Romanoffs, I really love your daughter. You care about her safety as much as I do. I promise to keep her safe and sound.” Kate calmly said, meaning every word.

Wanda and Nat looked at each other, having a silent conversation. Soon, they turned back to face you and Kate. “Oh God..” Nat groaned, letting out a breath. “Y/N, darling, we didn't want you to feel like that; we just…” she didn't really know how to say it, so Wanda took the wheel. “We just love you so much, we want to keep you safe. However, I admit that we did go a little too far. We shouldn't get between you and Kate.” she says. Your eyes lit up a little, a small smile started to spread on your face. “Does that mean..?” you asked, still not sure you understood what they just said. “Yes, you can see Kate.”

Now you have the biggest smile on your face. You jumped up and down and then pulled your mothers in a hug, squeezing in happiness. Your moms laughed a little and hugged you back. “We love you, darling, and we are happy for you.”

“Thank you. I love you both, very much.” you grinned and pulled away from the hug. You go back to stand next to Kate, whose smile is as big as yours, and interlace your fingers.

“However,” Natasha turned to Kate with a stoic expression. “If you hurt her, I will hunt you down.” Kate started to feel a little nervous again, but tried not to show it. “Of course, I-I would never hurt her; I love her.” she rumbled quickly.

Soon, Wanda and Nat left the apartment, saying that today they will leave you and Kate alone, but tomorrow they want you both at home for dinner.

You went back to bed, lying next to each other. Both of you fell asleep in a loving embrace.

#wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #wandanat #kate bishop #kate bishop x reader #yelena belova #clint barton #imagine #one shot #hailee steinfeld #elizabeth olsen #scarlett johansson

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lusmeitli · 2 days

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But like of each thing that in season grows

Summary: How a kind gesture can lead to something more. One shot.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Christmas fluff, mention of off screen assault, some swearing, lots of snow, books, poetry, smutty smut.

A/N: Okay, look. It just wanted to get out. You’re thrown in without a warning, nor a floatie. Apologies for the liberties taken to interpret and manipulate characters to dance after my will once more. Obviously don't read if you're a minor.

9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9

The greatest ideas were conceived in the shower. That was a scientific fact.

You liked facts. You did not like uncertainties or speculation. The feeling of being in limbo was something that didn’t sit right with you.

So as you were in the shower, working the conditioner in your hair, the idea was just there. It was simple, humble, but beautiful. Your hands slowed and stilled. And then your mind rebooted and went at lightning speed, planning things out. You needed to write things down.

You stepped out of the shower hurriedly, towelling down your body, before realising that your hair felt different. Cursing, you stepped back under the water to rinse off the conditioner.

*****

You hated staff meetings. Particularly third Thursdays staff meetings, because they dragged on and on. The weekly mission reports were presented and Fury insisted on inviting some guest speakers. He called it “Horizon Thursday”.

In your opinion it narrowed rather than widened it. Today’s guest speaker was Quinn Harris, cyber security specialist. You suspected self-proclaimed, but you hadn’t bothered doing a deep dive on him.

You were sat on the increasingly uncomfortable chair, rows of employees in front of you, the Avengers at the very front. Rogers had delivered his usual military style mission report, the other members of his team trying to look alive, though you suspected Romanoff and Banner were asleep, as they were both donning sunglasses.

“What you need is a quantum computer and it’ll solve all your problems with encryption.”

“They might as well propose using block ciphers,” you murmured under your breath, turning the page in your book.

Meanwhile, a hand shot in the air at the front. “Excuse me, Mr Harris.”

The man smiled. “Mr Stark, do you have a question?”

“Well, not so much a question for you, but I would very much like the opinion of another expert on what you just said. You know, before anyone here thinks about investing in your product, which, let’s be honest, would be me. I’d like to be sure it’s the right thing.”

Fury rolled his eyes and sunk back in his chair.

There had been talk about getting that dude in? You must have zoned out for that part.

Harris’ face fell for a second, but he honed his features and forced a smile. “Of course.”

“It just so happens that we have an inhouse expert,” Tony got up and scanned the crowd. “Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

Everyone uniformly turned to look at you. Everyone.

You felt the moment one particular pair of eyes set on you. The amount of times you had spoken to one another had been limited to the missions you were needed on, for hacking. You’d had his voice in your ear a few times and it did things to your body that made you feel like a system overheat. You never really saw him during missions though as your job was very much office-bound.

Today, he wore the damn leather suit. Whilst Fury didn’t give a fuck, Rogers very much was all about the professional appearance of the Avengers. What you didn’t understand was why everything looked better on him. The black and green possibly was the best colour combination there ever was. The other day Bucky had worn a Slytherin pullover and even though it very nicely accentuated his physique, it looked nothing like the colours did on Loki.

You swallowed hard when you felt his eyes on you. They seemed to see right through you, even over the distance of the seven rows of chairs.

And then you felt the weight of all the other pairs of eyes on you. That was a lot of people. You gulped and pushed your glasses back up the bridge of your nose - a habit you couldn’t break.

“Y/N,” Tony called, bringing you back to the matter at hand. “Stand up and look at me.” His voice was gentle. “Start breathing again. Good. Now tell me what Harris is not telling me about the quantum computer.”

You adjusted your glasses again and cleared your throat. “It’s a solid proposition, I suppose,” you started, “however, one I would expect from a college freshman, certainly not from a cyber security expert specialist.”

Murmurs erupted, but you ignored them and rattled off your thoughts.

“Can a quantum computer crack asymmetric encryption algorithms? Yes. And yes, we all know that thanks to Shor’s algo the maths problems are only polynomial. Also, we know this applies to discrete log problems, too, therefore, all we’d need is a large enough quantum computer. Of course, he,” you gestured to Harris, “would have to build one first, which as you can guess is very costly. However, this entire presentation is based on the assumption that quantum computing is the end of asymmetric cryptography. And that is such a blatantly ignorant approach, with complete disregard for the safety of the members of our staff that are entirely reliant on the encryption cracking working on all their devices during operations and missions. And this whole quantum computer only works if you have a network connection.”

“So you’re suggesting there are hard problems that a quantum computer can’t solve?” Harris said, chin jutting out, arms crossed defiantly.

“Don’t be silly, of course there are,” you huffed. “I coded new post-quantum asymmetric encryption algos three years ago and tested them on several sites I am not authorised to disclose that have quantum computers. Not one of them cracked the simplest of those codes, in any of the over 5,400 attempts they ran over the past three years. So this presentation is… rather embarrassing in its sloppiness.”

“Well,” Harris’ lips were a thin line now. “I’m sure you have a ‘much better’ suggestion then?” He actually raised his hands to add the quotation marks.

“Actually, I do. I developed our own version of a quantum computer, at - and I’m only guessing here - a fraction of the price you’d charge Mr Stark, which can crack both symmetric and asymmetric encryption, works on all of our staff’s devices, portable and stationary, works offline and is about the size of, uh, a thumbnail.”

You pointed to your thumb, because in your humble experience men like him struggled to accurately size things.

Tony smiled and turned to Harris.

“Okay that concludes today’s meeting.” Fury got to his feet and patted Harris’ shoulder. “Looks like we’re good, but thanks for coming.”

People around you stood, some nodding at you as they passed. Tony caught up with you in the hallway. Before he could say something you blurted out: “Did I say something wrong? Was I rude again?”

He smirked and pushed the button of the lift. “He needed putting into place. Totally fine by me. You did great.”

“Stark!” bellowed Fury from down the hall and Tony winced.

“Excuse me, mother’s calling.” He turned and left.

You sidled into the lift with several other people. The cabin stopped a few floors up and people got off. That was when you noticed Loki on the other side of the lift. Up you went and after another stop you were alone with the Asgardian god. The cabin seemed to shrink.

You both watched the numbers climb, the lift hummed, Loki’s leather suit creaked softly as he crossed his hands behind his back.

“Could you please enlighten me about Shor’s algorithm?” he suddenly asked, looking at you.

You had a heart palpitation. Surely that was what it was. He was so impossibly tall and sculpted and… here.

“Um,” you pushed your glasses back up, “it’s a quantum algorithm for finding the prime factors of an integer.”

Loki’s face looked blank.

“It, er, essentially it finds the prime factors of large numbers a lot faster than conventional computers do. Which we use in encryption. The large numbers, that is. So it cracks codes faster.”

“Ah,” he said, head turning back to continue staring at the number display. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you croaked out.

The urge to facepalm burned under your fingers, but you resisted. As soon as the doors slid open on your floor, however, you fled and sought asylum in the ladies’ toilets, banging your head against the wall of the stall.

*****

Operation Great Idea was in full swing.

So you’ve had a little personal setback, but that didn’t deter you from the objective. You had compiled a list, one you were confident was accurate based on your intel and research. That very list was neatly folded in the deep pocket of your coat as you walked through the cold rain on this late November afternoon.

Yes, you did something you’d never done before - take an afternoon off - and were trying to evade puddles on your way to the bookshop. Could you have ordered the books online? Most of them, certainly. But your late mother, an independent business owner, had ingrained in you to support local shops. You liked bookshops, they reminded you of her and of simpler times.

Your timing was excellent - of course you had researched when the shop was least busy - and you practically had the shop to yourself. And so you walked, dragging a pull-along basket behind you as you searched the shelves for the books on the list.

Sometimes, there were different editions there and you stood for a while, feeling the weight of each book in your hand, the feel of the embossed letters on the spine, the scent of the pages. You wanted it to be just right, so you took your time.

Some of the books you would only be able to get in a little second hand bookshop, tucked away in a side street. You had called beforehand and the owner lifted a box from under the counter to show you what she had reserved for you. As soon as your fingers made contact with the books you felt absolutely giddy.

Back at the Tower, you spent two entire evenings wrapping books after work. When you were finished, you leaned back, looking at the neatly organised stack. Yes, you were ready. Now all you needed was an exorbitant amount of luck for the next 24 days.

*****

You watched Loki stare suspiciously at the first parcel. He was sitting in the communal kitchen, Thor next to him.

“Why would it be hexed?” Thor asked. “Simply because the sender is missing?”

Loki just gave him a pointed look.

“Come, brother, aren’t you curious to find out what is in this gift?”

“Loki got a present?” Steve asked as he pulled a bowl out of a cupboard. “Did I miss his birthday?”

Before Loki could say anything, Thor shook his head. “He’s worried it has been tampered with.”

Roger’s brows furrowed. “How did it get into your possession?”

“It was on the floor outside my door this morning,” Loki complied, sighing.

“FRIDAY would have picked up on any foreign substances or intruders in the tower,” Tony said between gulps of coffee. “He now can detect traces of magic, too. ‘Course, he went apeshit over your magic, but we got it under control, eventually.”

“That’s what all this ‘Alert, alert, magic detected, caution advised’ blaring at five in the morning was?” Scott bustled in.

A slight tinge of red shaded Loki’s complexion. “I have to practise some time.”

“Thought you were born with it?” Scott interjected, helpfully.

This earned him a glare. “I was born with the aptitude for magic and sorcery. It takes a lot more than mere talent to achieve this level of proficiency.”

“Several centuries, in fact,” his brother supplied. “Now then Stark here says it’s safe. So open it, brother!” Thor clapped his hands together.

Loki indignantly and very reluctantly slid the parcel towards him and pulled on the simple string that held the wrapping together. The paper fell open to reveal one of the books you had picked.

From your vantage point of, well, your computer screen, you zoomed in to get a better look at him.

“Oh, a book,” you heard the onlookers muttering disappointedly, quickly losing interest and going about their business once more.

But Loki just sat, staring at the book. It took him a good few minutes to pick it up. And he did what you had seen him do many times before. He weighed it in his hands, fingertips running over the cover, the spine. Then he opened the lid. To anyone else it might not have been noticeable, but to you it was: he inhaled the scent of the book. And finally, there was the smallest upturn of his lips.

You exhaled, relieved. One down 23 more to go.

*****

Over the next week you were too busy testing the new firewall you had developed to check on Loki’s reaction. Sometimes you felt a little self-conscious, scared even that he might not like the books or think this was from a stalker. Which technically you had indulged in, stalking that was, but only to find the perfect books for him. And then sometimes you would get worried that someone else might have found the presents.

But you knew he had received every single one of them, for every evening, when you passed the common area you saw him sitting on the couch with the latest offering in his hands. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but it looked as if his tense shoulders had started to relax a bit.

Another couple of days went by and as the decorations started to pop up in the Tower and the first snow fell that didn’t immediately melt or turn to mush you felt happy. Perhaps it also had something to do with the fact that a certain someone walked differently. Maybe it was your imagination. But he seemed even taller these days.

*****

“Did it work?” you heard his voice in your ear a couple days later.

The data set was streaming on the screen in front of your eyes. “It did. Give me a moment to inject the virus, then you can disconnect the USB cable.”

“Can I still talk to you?”

Your fingers on the keyboard stilled for a moment, surprised. “Of course. The program runs through your phone, not through comms.”

There was a little pause, before he said: “I have a question. About a Midgardian tradition.”

You wrinkled your nose, scanning the code rushing over the screen. “I’ll try my best, but I’m rubbish at traditions.”

The audible outbreath sent shivers down your spine. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“What’s your question then?”

“Tell me about the Yuletide calendar.”

45% done. “You mean the Advent calendar?”

“Precisely.”

This was dangerous territory you were treading on. “Oh, it’s a fun thing for kids, really. To make the wait for Christmas a bit more exciting and I guess more bearable. It’s nice to get a little something like a toy.”

“Is it always toys?”

69% now. “Well, no. My mum used to get me an advent calendar that had these lovely drawings behind each door. I hung it up in the front room and we’d open it together every morning.”

“I suppose it’s a nice custom,” he said, before asking, “What about grown ups, do they have advent calendars?”

83%. “Sometimes. There’s all sorts: beer, wine, beauty products, chocolates - you name it, it probably exists somewhere.”

“Books, too?”

The question threw you, did he know it was you? A light was blinking on your screen.

100%.

“That’s it, Loki, the virus is uploaded, you can unplug the cable now and get out of there.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

You heard a crackle and the comms was handed over to operations again. As you finished running the decryption programme on the data Loki had extracted, you kept hearing his voice in your head.

“Books, too?” Were you busted?

*****

Security breaches were both an insult as well as an admittedly welcome challenge to you. Someone had tried to flex their fingers - and you had a very good idea who - to break into Stark’s network. They had managed to pierce a little hole into the outer layer of the firewall, but they didn’t know that you had several back up plans in place and you enjoyed watching them work. However, as you scanned over the intruder’s code you devised a new security strategy.

You were in the middle of coding a nice little primer for a new layer - unexpected because of its simplicity, but a tough little nut to crack - when someone cleared their throat next to you. You looked up to find Loki, his eyes fixed on you. You blinked, looked around, but no one else was there, and back up at the god.

“Can I, uh, help you?” Smooth. You facepalmed internally.

“I realised I have never been in here,” he said, looking around the room, then back at your desk. “You have a lot of monitors.”

You waved your hand dismissively. “Just the standard three.”

“What are you doing now? Or is it a secret?”

“It’s not a secret at all. So we’re currently under attack. Relax,” she said when she noticed him tense, “cyberattack. Someone’s knocking at our backdoor, trying to see if they can get in.”

You motioned to one of your screens. “This is the intruder’s code. He’s trying out lots of keys to see if he can get in. And this,” you pointed to the screen next to it, “is our defence mechanism.”

“Extraordinary.” Loki’s low voice murmured. He was close. You turned your head and nearly had a heart attack at just how close. His sharp profile was illuminated by the blue glow of the monitor, his hair falling to his shoulders, one hand splayed on the desk, the other resting on the back of your chair. He looked beautiful. Perfect. He was leaning closer to the screen so he could see what was going on. Your breath hitched.

And then he turned his head.

Something that sounded an awful lot like a squeak escaped your throat.

Loki lifted an eyebrow. “Am I making you nervous, Agent Y/N?”

You pushed your glasses up your nose and leaned back, just an inch. “No?”

Loki’s eyes drifted over your face, before they met your gaze again. “Is that a question or a statement?”

“A… a statement,” you mumbled and, for good measure, added, “sir.”

His eyes darkened, a smirk curling the left side of his lips. “Are you scared of me?”

You tilted your head ever so slightly. “How can I be scared of you?”

“You’ve heard the stories, undoubtedly.”

“I did. And if I believed everything people told me and not looked beyond I would be incredibly shitty at my job.”

He smiled at that. It was small, but there, and it made him so attractive you felt your stupid heart starting to pound in your chest. Could he hear it?

“Do you like to read, Agent Y/N?”

Another adjustment of your glasses. “I do.”

“What would you say is your favourite book?” His voice was low and smooth.

His hand moved from your desk to the side of your face, where he gently pulled on a tendril, before he brushed it behind your ear. The back of his fingers skimmed your cheek for less than a second, but it sent you reeling. It was as if an electromagnetic pulse was slowly wiping clean your hard drive. You couldn’t think.

“Um, err, Jane.. Jane Eyre.”

He hummed. “I wonder why? Is it because she’s abandoned and rejected all her life?”

You shook your head slowly. “No. Because she’s forced to leave home, into a life she didn’t choose. But when she is given the freedom and space to grow she learns to be the master of her happiness.”

His eyes followed the curve of your neck and back up again. It almost felt as if he was touching you. “Interesting.”

You swallowed again, before he stood upright, nodded at you, turned and left.

Your heart was pounding. And then your computer beeped and your attention was back on the screen.

“Oh pants…” Your fingers started flying over the keyboard. “Not today, Harris. Or any other day.”

Nine more books to go.

*****

He was onto you. Of course he was. After all, he was the God of Mischief and Lies. If anyone would find out who was behind this, it would be him. Personally, the preferred outcome was that he never would find out.

You had asked yourself often over the last 18 days why exactly you wanted to do this for him. But that was just it. You really had no other motive than wanting to do this for him. Maybe because you sympathised with him, being stuck somewhere far from home, feeling lonely and not really integrated. Maybe you had projected your own feelings onto him a tiny little bit. Possibly considerably. However, it was done with the best of intentions. You wanted to make this nice for him. The run up to Christmas. A little bit magical. He must like magic, he was a sorcerer after all, wasn’t he?

So what if you had started dreaming of him at night. He would lean over you as you sat at your desk, in all his tall- and broadness. This time his hands would be touching you. And he’d lean in to whisper into your ear. Admittedly, not words you would necessarily associate with such a situation.

When you would wake up you knew where to place the things he said to you in your dreams. He’d said them to you during missions. And yes, “how much longer till the download is complete, Agent Y/N?” was not remotely as sexy as “I’m going to ravish you now, thoroughly” would have been, for example. But your brain only had so much to work with and it worked for you.

You noticed a few things, however. Loki was around more often, probably just a silly coincidence, or you had started to pay more attention. He looked at you now. You’d look up and find him already looking at you, sometimes a little smile crossed his lips, but mostly it was just something with his eyes, they seemed… warmer, maybe?

However, to your horror you discovered that you had started to blush. Every single time this happened. So you spent a lot of time in the ladies’ toilets, splashing your face with cold water, only to see it even more flushed than before. Apparently, all the books you had read lied about that ‘splashing your face with cold water to calm down and not make people notice’-thing.

But it all boiled down to the fact that he was onto you. Maybe he was humouring you and seeing where this was going. Maybe he had found out already and you made him feel awkward. Or he was waiting for the opportune moment to expose and humiliate you. You weren’t sure which.

Right now it didn’t matter. You were so tired you could hardly see properly anymore. So when you decided to crash on the sofa in the common room, because it was halfway to your room, you didn’t think to check if anyone was there.

That was mistake number one.

You collapsed onto the sofa with a groan, eyes closed, head leaning against the back of the sofa.

“Fuck. My. Fucking. Life,” you complained to the universe. “Can you please make the appendage of that misogynistic wanker fall off already? For fuck’s sake!”

Mistake number two.

Someone chuckled. It came from rather close to you.

Dread filled you. Foul language was not tolerated in the workplace. To be fair you could argue that the common room was not your workplace per se, however, you did not want to start arguing with HR because they were absolute savages in the art of word twisting. Or just savages full stop.

Carefully, you cracked your eyes open. And there, on the sofa right next to you, sat Loki. One leg was stretched out in all its glorious length, the other bent at the knee, his forearm resting over it, the book in his lap now closed, one of his slender fingers acting as bookmark. For a moment you wondered what it would feel like to be the book.

“I hope it’s not my appendage you’re asking to be removed,” he said with a smirk.

You grappled to sit up, horrified. “Of course not! That would be awful… I mean, a terrible thing to wish for… you’d… err… such a loss of such a beautiful… I mean, I can only guess… but… um, err… heavens, please make me stop talking…”

You hid your head in a throw pillow, wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

Mistake number three.

The sound of a low, rumbly laugh made its way to your ears. It entered your system like a virus, leaving your limbs feeling weak and yearning. Was Loki laughing? You lifted your head and watched him, highly bemused at your idiotic display.

It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard. You felt a hard tug at your heart. Goodness, if this man wasn’t already a god, you’d have to declare him one. If he were the head of a religion you would throw out your atheist views and follow him to the end of the multiverse. He looked absolutely breathtaking. Then again, when did he not?

“I’m so sorry,” you started to apologise, “I don’t know what-”

With superhuman speed he moved and sat next to you, his finger on your lips. The feel of his digit on your mouth felt more intimate than any sexual intercourse you’d ever had.

And then he leaned in.

He was so close your cells were basically breathing him in. His eyes were locked onto yours and nothing would have been able to make you look away right then.

“Do you want to know what book I’m reading right now?” His quiet words did things to your insides that were not legal.

You just about managed to nod, his finger still in place.

“‘The Remains of the Day’ by Kazuo Ishiguro. Do you know it?” He waited for your affirmation. “It’s about a man who is in love with a woman. But he doesn’t tell her. When they meet again after decades, she tells him her life would have been different if she had married him. And you know what he does? He still won’t admit his feelings to her. He walks away from her. The first time he lets her go, the second time he walks away.”

You remembered the book very well. You had picked it out for him, after all.

“It’s a cruel story, Y/N. A love that is never acknowledged, nor consumed.” Loki’s eyes drifted from yours down to your mouth. His finger slowly traced the outline of your lips. It was too much, your eyes closed.

“Do you think love is this cruel?” Loki asked quietly. You felt his words as he spoke them almost onto your skin. So close.

“It-it can be,” you whispered. “But maybe, maybe that wasn’t the point of the story.”

“No?”

You opened your eyes to find him looking at you. He’d moved away a bit, giving you some space, waiting for you to elaborate.

“Maybe the point was to show that he chose his job over love. Twice. You can call it dignity or pride, but at the end he’s alone. Without love.”

“What about you, Y/N? Do you have love in your life?”

You weren’t able to look into his eyes. Slowly, you got off the sofa. You turned back to him to respond to find he’d stood up, too.

You looked down at your shoes. His shoes were black, of course, polished, perfect, like him. Yours were several seasons old. Worn. A bit of the shoe sole had started to peel off at the top of your toes. The bit you always kicked into the floor when you worked.

Your eyes wandered up his trousers, black, to the belt, his pullover, also black. He looked effortlessly elegant, poised. You, on the other hand, looked a mess, even in your work attire. Your heart grew heavy at the realisation. Your dreams were stupid. Turned out your heart was even more stupid. And suddenly you felt incredibly small in more ways than one next to the tall, powerful god.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you said: “I have known love, once. A long time ago.”

With that you pivoted on your heels and left, leaving Loki alone in the common room.

*****

Harris was an absolute tosser.

He just couldn’t leave things be. He insisted on trying to show you up, so he tried and tried to hack his way through your firewalls. Of course he had tried to hide his identity and it had made you chuckle, because you seriously had no idea how he could ever dare call himself a cyber security specialist if he covered up his tracks like a novice hacker.

In a way it was cute, but it was getting to the point of obsessive stalking and you frankly were rather tired of this little game by now. Particularly, since it kept you from your nice, warm, comfortable bed well past midnight.

However, Harris seemed to have changed tactics and started to badmouth you in the industry. Even Fury had called Tony and asked whether he should be worried, because Harris had dug up some hacking you’d done when you were much younger and much less ethical. Really it was unhinged, but everyone worked through teenage years in their own way.

You only knew this because you happened to be in Tony’s office and he had Fury on loudspeaker. Tony had pacified Fury without batting an eye, then hung up and asked if you’d be okay with him paying Harris a little visit, preferably as Iron Man. You had both laughed it off. But it bugged you.

So when you were on your way back to the tower from the compulsory (for all employees) counselling session and someone grabbed you, you weren’t surprised to come face to face with Harris. He didn’t lay a finger on you. No, he got two goons to do that for him.

Later, as you stumbled out of the lift and along the corridor, trying to make your way to your room, someone blocked your way.

“Speak of the devil! Y/N! We were just talking about you.” Tony. Other voices around him.

You kept your head down, thinking of how to get out of this unnoticed.

“We were just wondering if– Y/N? What happened?” You saw Tony’s hand reach out for you, but you flinched away.

Silence fell for a long moment.

Then a movement. Shoes appeared in your line of vision. You knew those shoes well. They had been on display on the couch for the past 22 days, attached to an Asgardian god.

He slowly held out his hand, palm up. An assurance, no harm. You gave the slightest nod. He moved the hand up and placed a finger under your chin so carefully you wanted to sob. The faintest of pressure had you lift your head to look up at Loki. His eyes scanned your appearance, stopping at your bruised hands that were trying to hold together your coat, taking in the blood splatters on the fabric, your busted lip, the lopsided glasses, the badly bent temple dangling off its hinge.

You never understood the expression ‘his features darkened’. You did now. Loki’s face transformed and you saw for the first time what a dangerous man he could be. Power radiated off him. You were glad it was not directed at you. His nostrils flared and you almost heard how much he was clenching his teeth.

“Names,” he ground out.

A hot tear rolled down your cheek and now that it started it didn’t want to stop. His eyes softened, something akin to vulnerability flitting across his features.

“H–Har…”

“Harris?” Tony asked softly. You nodded, still looking at Loki.

Loki rolled his lips in his mouth, his thumb swiping ever so lightly over the skin of your chin, before dropping his hand and walking to the lift in long strides.

“Nat?” Tony asked, the spy already by your side.

“Hold up, Reindeer Games!” Tony hollered behind you, as Romanoff led you down the corridor to your room. “I’m coming, too…”

It felt as if you were having an out of body experience as you were peeled out of your bloodied coat, your clothes and body assessed quickly but gently. She pulled out her phone after she ushered you into the shower.

“Tony? No forced intercourse, but lots of bruising…,” was all you heard before the hot spray of the water ran into your ears, blocking all noise out.

*****

Your glasses were fixed and you could see properly again. That was important, otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to see Harris’ face on the news as he was escorted - handcuffed - from a courtroom and shoved into a police van, followed by the two goons who had helped him.

When you turned from the screen above the cashier, you saw Loki next to Tony across the canteen, looking at you. You walked over, clutching your sandwich.

“So, um… thank you,” you said, gesturing to the screen, “for that.”

Tony put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently, before his eyes gazed behind you. “Is that a double cheeseburger I see? Excuse me.”

And off he went, leaving you alone with the Asgardian god.

You shuffled your feet, studying the floor.

“Thanks again-”

“Are you okay?”

You both said at the same time. You laughed quietly, looking up at him. He smiled. You’d never seen Loki smile.

“I’m fine, thank you,” you said.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

You wanted to say so much more, do so much more, like hug him. But he was a god. You weren’t exactly sure what the protocol was for hugging gods. The awkward silence thickened.

“So, I’ll see you around?”

He was still smiling. “Yes. See you around.”

You were fairly sure you were blushing as you scampered off, back to your office.

*****

Bryant Park was one of your favourite places to be in New York. For one, it was right behind the public library - your heaven. For another, it was close to the Tower and you could wander the paths under the lovely trees. The park was very busy as it was Christmas Eve and people wanted to while away the time in the Winter Village until the big day. But as the ice rink closed down and the skaters came off, noses and cheeks red from the cold, the park started to empty.

You sat on a bench under one of the trees, gloved hands deep in your coat pockets, a woolly hat and scarf keeping you warm. Your head was tilted back and you watched the snowflakes dance and twirl in the cold wind.

“Y/N,” someone called.

Loki stood a few metres away from you, a black coat making him look even taller. He was not donning a hat or a scarf, he looked comfortable with the cold. The snow clung to his dark hair, a soft dusting was on his shoulders. You envied the snowflakes.

You got to your feet and he took a few steps closer, looking down at you.

“Were you enjoying the activities?” Loki asked, nodding to the ice rink.

“No, I just… I just like to sit here,” you said, feeling a bit silly. “I like the trees and the snow. It’s… peaceful.”

He nodded.

“How about you? Fancied a turn on the ice?”

He laughed and you watched the cloud mix with your breath. Now you envied your breath.

“Actually, I was looking for you.”

“Me?”

He took another step towards you. “Yes.”

“Why? Did something happen at the Tower?” Worriedly, you fumbled your phone out of the coat pocket and checked it.

A large hand covered it. You looked up. “Nothing happened. I wanted to talk to you.”

Nervously, you glanced down at his hand that still covered your phone. If you hadn’t been wearing gloves your hands would have had actual skin on skin contact. He dropped his hand to his side.

“Am I in trouble?”

He shook his head. “I… I wanted to thank you.”

“What for?”

His hand pulled a book out of his pocket. “For this.” He slid it back in the folds of his coat.

“Oh.” You didn’t really know how to feel or react. You knew he’d been onto you, so it was no surprise he’d sussed it out. He was, after all, the God of Mischief and Lies. But you had to give him kudos for letting it play out.

“Um, you’re welcome.” You bit your lip.

“You don’t know what this meant– what this means to me.”

It was impossible to look at him.

“I was dreading this time of year here on Midgard. But your incredibly generous advent calendar made it feel… like when I first visited here with my mother.” He grasped your gloved hands in his. “I miss her dearly, so thank you. For giving me this.”

You were too choked up to say anything, so you just nodded.

“Can I enquire what your reason was?”

It was so cautious, as if he was worried it might scare you off. And yet, the question threw you, most likely because you had been asking yourself the very same thing from the moment of its conception in your shower. It was just there, a need, an urgency you didn’t know where it came from or why it existed. It was something you had to do. Like breathing.

But over the course of the last few weeks, particularly the last few days, it had become painfully clear why you did it.

“I wanted, no, I needed you to be happy.”

He squeezed your hands gently. The tips of his shoes, his shiny, polished shoes, now touched yours.

“Please look at me.”

So you did. He looked different… vulnerable maybe.

“Why do you need me to be happy?” The question was another cloud and you breathed it in, let it fill your lungs.

“Because…” You were afraid to say it, to admit it. But something in his eyes made you courageous. Either that, or foolish.

“Because I watched you, during missions and in briefings and ops planning. You started to believe what they said about you. And it’s not true. There’s so much you don’t share, don’t tell them and I see it. It’s right there in your eyes. And I didn’t want you to lose yourself. And it’s selfish, I know, but I need you to be happy… because if you are, so am I.”

“If you think that’s selfish, then I am guilty of this notion, too.”

Loki raised his right hand to run the backs of his fingers over your cold cheek. “I knew after three days it was you. I wanted to see where this was going, what your motivation was. And I… when I saw you after Harris… I was filled with so much rage and fear. That I would lose you. Before I had you.”

He leaned his forehead against yours, you closed your eyes, heart beating out of your chest at what you were hearing. Was this a dream?

Loki’s voice was just above a whisper. “Can I? Have you?”

You moved away slightly to look into his eyes. “Yes.”

He leaned in, his hands splaying on your back, as you stood on your toes. The moment his lips touched yours, you felt a current run straight to your heart. It was as if your brain rewired, the missing piece of the primer clicked into place and unlocked everything.

Snow was falling as Loki kissed you under the tree. You didn’t hear the whistles and hollering of passerbys. You didn’t feel the cold wind. You felt elated, buzzing even.

“Your phone is buzzing,” Loki murmured against your lips.

“Hm?” you said dreamily.

“Your phone is buzzing,” Loki smiled, “someone’s calling you.”

Quickly you pulled out the damned device. Before you could even say your name, you heard Tony say: “So sorry for disrupting, Y/N, but we got a slight issue here that needs your expert skills pronto.”

You hung up, burying your head in Loki’s chest. His laugh rumbled in his chest. “We’ll talk more later.”

Breathing in his scent and holding onto him, you weren’t ready to let go. “Promise?”

*****

“Oh god, yes,” you sighed in absolute bliss. “That’s the spot, right there.”

Your groan sounded through the kitchen. You deserved that after three hours of extra work on Christmas Eve.

“Here?” Nat asked.

“Yes, yes! Please don’t stop,” you begged, putty in her hands, eliciting more noises from you.

“Maybe you should try yoga. Your shoulders and your whole upper body are so tense and full of knots. There’s a class I go to tomorrow at lunchtime, if you want to join me?”

“No time,” you murmured. “Heavens, Nat, what else can you do with those hands?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she teased.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Banner interrupted, grabbing Nat by the hand and dragging her to the door. “I’m happy to share my girlfriend’s masseuse skills for a severe case of muscle lock, but I’m afraid I have a personal request now.”

You opened your eyes to catch Nat winking at you, a slight blush on her cheeks as she was pulled out of the room. “So I’m your girlfriend now?” you heard before they disappeared down the corridor.

You laughed and turned in your stool. Thor, Scott and Loki stood staring. Thor at the ends of his braids, Scott at his fingernails, Loki at you. Eyes intense and dark. You swallowed.

“Y/N, a word, if you please,” Loki said, before wrapping his fingers around your wrist and marching out of the room, with you trying to keep up with his long strides, your coat and shoulder bag in your other hand.

He didn’t say a single word until you reached his room - it was closest - and the door shut behind you, locking the outside world out. He pushed you against the door, arm placed against the wood above your head, body leaning into yours, not quite touching.

“That was… a rather interesting display,” he remarked quietly, his breath puffing against your face as he spoke. “In future, I would prefer if your keening was reserved for me.”

Your hands found the buttons of his shirt. “That sounds like an exclusive right to me.”

“It most certainly is.” His lips hovered over yours.

Your index finger slipped in the space between two buttons. “A right that needs to be earned,” you whispered, your finger grazing his skin.

His breath hitched ever so slightly. “Do not challenge me, darling,” he leaned in, his body moving against yours teasingly. “It might be,” his mouth brushed against your earlobe, “too taxing for you.”

You scoffed, but his lips silenced you. His stance shifted as he picked you up and placed you on the nearest surface - a sideboard - and stepped between your legs. He broke the kiss, to cup your face. For a long moment he just gazed at you. The heat in his eyes seemed to intensify, turning you into a needy mess. He made a show of taking off your glasses, folding the temples and carefully putting them on the side board next to you. Your core clenched.

He held out his hand for you to hop off the furniture. You took it and he took to your lips.

It was quite possible that several things fell off on your way to Loki’s bedroom. When you pushed him into the wall to open the damned buttons of his shirt, a picture might have fallen. A vase, perhaps, when he picked you up and spun you around so your back was against the doorframe next to the fragile ornament. Your head hit the heavy frame of a painting, rendering it lopsided, when Loki feasted on your throat, and you tilted your head back to allow him better access.

Kissing, licking, nipping, sucking - he was intent on leaving marks. Your fingers somehow were in his hair, keeping his head in place. Soft, his hair was so soft. A sharp contrast to the teeth you felt pulling on your skin. His ministrations drew a long moan from you.

Loki smiled against your skin. “Yes, my siren, sing.”

Your back hit the mattress and he crawled over you. His hair a curtain, screening you off from the rest of the world in your own sacred space. His shirt hung open, your hands reached out, tracing each line, each dip. His tongue against yours mimicked the motion of his hips that rolled into you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, meeting each movement, as if you had practised this dance many times before. He pulled away to tug off your pullover. His fingers pushed up your bra and then he sucked your nipple into his hot mouth, making you arch your back.

“Loki, please.”

You didn’t really know what you begged for. More, probably. More of this, more of him.

He pulled you up so you both were kneeling on the bed. Shaking hands fumbled with clothes and fastenings and then you were both naked. Your breath hitched at his beauty.

“Can I…,” you started, voice sounding hoarse. You looked up at him. “Please let me worship you.”

Something flickered across his face - surprise? He gave a curt nod and then watched every single one of your movements.

You took his right hand, tracing each finger with yours, the veins on the back of his hands. You brought his hand up to your face, cradling it to your cheek, before kissing the palm of his hand. One finger at a time, you sucked it into your mouth, to the knuckle, your tongue swirling around the digit, before releasing it and pressing a kiss to the tip, before moving on to the next.

Your hands traced the skin of the inside of his arm, his veins, the rise and fall of his muscles, and up over his shoulder, across his chest to his left arm, which you gave the same treatment. Each birthmark, each scar was kissed. Your hands skimmed over his chest, your lips followed the path. Loki’s breath stuttered when you sucked on his left nipple, before you released it, softly blowing on it. It puckered. You bestowed the same treatment upon the other nipple.

“Please, lie down,” you whispered and he complied.

You lay next to him, kissing his forehead, your fingers running through his hair along his scalp, gently tugging. Onwards, to kiss the curve of each eyebrow, the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones, his chin, along his jawline to his ear. You felt his body shiver when you breathed: “You are so beautiful, inside and out.”

Then your teeth closed around his earlobe, gently pulling. A deep moan sounded through the room. Up until now he had let you do whatever you wanted to and not touched you. But his restraint waned and his hands splayed on your back, pulling you flush against his body. You kept going, your lips now worshipping his delectable throat. He tilted his head back to give you better access.

“Herregud,” he rasped as you kissed, licked and sucked on his sensitive skin. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard, his hands growing slack on your back.

You kissed the dip between his collar bones and worked your way down his torso, lips kissing, hands caressing. Further and further you went, along his abs, dipping in his belly button, following the trail of hair below. You leaned back a bit, to look at him. He was fully erect, heavy, swaying slightly. The purple mushroom head gleaming with pearls of pre-cum, thick veins running down the shaft to his pubic hair.

You licked your lips, curling one of your hands around his base, the other cupping his testacles. Then you looked up at him. He was up on his elbows, staring down at you hotly, biting his lips as he watched you in anticipation. You made sure to have and maintain eye contact and then you took him into your mouth.

He hissed, his head falling back, a loud moan following when you hollowed your cheeks to apply suction, the salty taste of his precum on your tongue.

You moved your hand up his length, still sucking, giving his testicles a gentle yet confident squeeze. Up your mouth went, your tongue circling his slit, before sucking him back in. The third time you did it, his hands clasped your shoulders.

“Stop.”

You looked up at him. Loki was breathing hard and you let his cock slide from your mouth with a wet ‘plop’.

In an instant your back was on the mattress and he hovered over you.

“Please don’t misunderstand,” he explained, voice rough, “I loved it, but I have plans.”

He settled between your legs, eyes locked on yours, hand on your thigh, pulling your leg around his waist. His hand slid up, splaying over the fullness of your ass, before giving it a firm squeeze, then sliding over the globe and dipping between your legs. When his slender digits made contact with your aching centre, you cried out. Your whole body was throbbing with need.

“All this nectar is for me?” he rasped.

You nodded.

“Oh, I have to see this.” And in one fluid motion he sat back on his heels, spreading your legs with his hands, looking at your dripping wet centre in amazement.

“Wait a moment,” he said, before he scrambled off the bed and disappeared in the corridor, only to come back a few moments later to resume his place between your legs. He handed you something with a smirk. Your glasses.

“I want you to see me.”

You put them on, your heartbeat accelerating. You bit your lip in anticipation. He looked up at you, his hot breath puffing against your wet core and then his flat tongue licked you all the way from your entrance to your clit. Your fingers fisted in the bedsheets, eyes falling shut in ecstasy, mouth open in a silent cry.

“Look at me.”

You did. He started a rhythm of licking, sucking and lapping that had the coil inside you wind up and tighten impossibly in no time at all. You fell back onto a pillow. Then he slid two fingers inside you and your hands dove into his hair, tugging, scraping.

What a visual. Loki between your legs, eyes burning into yours, humming and moaning against your clit, fingers sliding in and out of you, curling just at the right time, at the exact angle you needed. It was as if you were a book he’d read a thousand times before. Your toes curled and then you fell into the abyss. You moaned out his name over and over as the orgasm washed over you, leaving your legs shaking.

Loki moved up your body, placing kisses on your thighs, your tummy, your breasts, before he brushed some hair out of your face. You took your glasses off, he placed them on the bedside table. His eyes searched yours.

“I need you, Loki,” you managed, pulling him down.

He kissed you deeply, slowly, the taste of you on his tongue. His hips rocked forward and he slid inside you all the way to the hilt. Loki stilled and broke the kiss, resting his damp forehead against yours.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

Your fingers caressed his back. Unable to form words, you nodded. Then he moved. His hips rocked into yours in slow, deep thrusts. He filled you so well, stimulating places inside you you didn’t know existed. Your hands ran over his back, down his sides, making him shiver. He watched you, eyes dark but warm. One hand found your swollen clit and his fingers circled and rubbed, applying the pressure you needed to fall into oblivion again. Your feet pressed into his ass cheeks to bring him closer, deeper and his name fell from your lips over and over.

He rocked inside you as you rode out your orgasm. You opened your eyes to look at him in wonder. Never had you seen anything as beautiful as Loki. He seemed to glow from the inside. Maybe it was your imagination. You lifted your head, cupping his face to pull him in for a kiss. His tongue moved languidly against yours, savouring the intimacy.

Then he started moving faster, pulling one of your legs up to rest the calf against his shoulder. Deeper, you wanted him deeper. You couldn’t get close enough. His mouth was devouring yours in a needy kiss, all tongues and teeth now as he pistoned faster into you, your hips meeting each of his thrusts. His lips found your nipple, sucking, pulling on it, moving to its sibling. You couldn’t believe you were on the verge again already. Never before had you been able to orgasm more than once during intercourse.

The room was quiet but for the moans, the heavy breathing. You were so wet that your coupling’s noise was wonderfully dirty, edging you both on even more.

“Look at us,” Loki commanded and you did.

Nothing had ever been so erotic as watching him fill you, stretch you, sliding out, covered in your juices. His fingers were on your clit again, rubbing, circling.

“I don’t know if I can…”

“One more, darling, give me one more,” he insisted, breathlessly.

His hips moved faster, as did his fingers and you were there, on the edge. Loki’s eyes met yours and he knew. His movements stuttered, pupils fully blown, jaw slack, a drop of sweat sliding down his temple.

“Cum with me,” you whispered, your fingers dragging down his back, possibly breaking skin, squeezing and pulling his ass into you.

And he did, propelling you into bliss with him. Your name fell from his lips in a string of Norse profanities. His cock pulsated as the hot ropes of his seed marked your insides as his, your pussy eagerly clenching around him, making sure every last drop would be spent inside you. His movements slowed and then he stilled, buried inside you.

Loki’s lips pressed onto yours in a tender kiss. You stayed in the embrace until you both caught your breath. Then he pulled out of you, your mixed juices running out of you. He could have cleaned you up using magic.

But Loki got out of bed, got a wet flannel from the bathroom and gently cleaned you, kissing your tired body, before sliding back into bed. He pulled you into his arms, your hands joined over his heart, legs intertwined and you both lay there, in your bubble of utter and complete happiness under warm covers, watching the snowflakes dance outside the window in the early hours of Christmas Day.

Christmas Day!

“Oh, wait here!”

You scrambled off the bed and ran to the door, forgetting about your nakedness, pulling your shoulder bag from under your coat. You pulled something from it and brought it back to Loki. He was sitting up, forearms resting on his knees, an intrigued look on his face.

“Merry Christmas,” you said.

He looked at you and then at the present you held out to him. He cocked an eyebrow as he took it and pulled the fabric ribbon off. His hands parted the paper and then he grew completely still.

“Where in the nine realms did you get this?” he asked after a few moments, voice sounding rough.

“A friend of mine got her hands on this a while back. I thought you might like it.”

He stared at the book, transfixed. His slender fingers caressing the embossed letters on the front and then he lifted it to take in the scent of the pages. His eyes closed.

“Do you? Like it, I mean?” You were worried about this book. It had cost an arm and a leg, but you thought it would be worth it.

“Like it?” Loki asked, finally looking at you and pulling you on his lap. “My mother used to read me his poems when I was a child. I rediscovered it later. This is…”

He was searching for words, failed to find them and instead kissed you, hard, hand fisting in your hair. After a long moment, he broke the kiss.

“Thank you, love.”

Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, stroking his pulse point.

“Will you read it to me?” you asked, a bit out of breath.

Nodding, he sat against the headboard, you curled up against him with his arm around you. He made sure you were both tucked under the covers. Then he opened the book and cleared his throat.

“Kormákr Ӧgmundarson ‘Sigurðardrápa ‘Drápa’. This is one of my favourites, he wrote it for the love of his life.”

His fingers wandered up your arm.

“Brunnu beggja kinna

bjǫrt ljós á mik drósar,

oss hlœgir þat eigi,

eldhúss of við felldan.”

His digits absently stroked your ribcage, skirting over the side of your breast. The rhythm and intonation of his deep voice made you clench your thighs.

“Enn til ǫkkla svanna

ítrvaxins gatk líta,

þrǫ́ muna oss of ævi

eldask, hjá þreskeldi.”

He paused, closing the book and brushing his lips against the skin of your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut.

“What-what does he say?” you all but stuttered.

Loki kissed along your collarbone. Humming against your skin.

“The bright lights of both

her cheeks burned onto me

from the fire-hall's felled wood;

no cause of mirth for me in that.”

His hands cupped your breasts as he sucked and teased one of the nipples. Your hands tugged on his hair, desperate for him again already. You felt his need hard and heavy against your thigh.

“By the threshold I gained a glance

at the ankles of this girl

of glorious shape.”

Loki moved to lie between your legs, hands sliding over your breasts, your tummy, your thigh, down to your ankle, lifting it to wrap it around his hips.

“Yet while I live

that longing will never leave me.”

His voice faltered as he rocked his hips forward and your bodies were joined once more.

“That longing will never leave me,” he repeated like a vow, eyes serious and warm.

“Nor me,” you pledged, before you lost yourselves in the physical expression of your feelings once more.

~ fin ~

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki #mcu loki #loki x you #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x reader smut #loki smut #snow

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powderpinkandsweeet · 2 days

Text

Abby x Reader

Some sfw hurt comfort since I was craving it. Unoriginal but we ball. Abby keeps getting held up at work, missing date nights and coming home at all hours of the night, and you’re getting sick of it.

The waitress had refilled your glass three times now, and the wine stopped burning on the way down by now. Abby was late. Over an hour late, but it felt like so much longer. Each minute going by slower than the last, especially with the repeated visits from your over-attentive waitress. 'Abby oughta learn something about attentiveness from her' you joked to yourself bitterly.

You tap your phone screen to check the time once again. Opening it, you see no notifications from Abby and your long string of worried texts.

5:25PM - Hey! I got us a table :) see you soon <3

5:37PM - Are you on your way yet? I can order you a drink

6:00PM - Everything okay?

6:10PM - Abbyyyy

6:11PM - Abby

6:35PM - Abigail.

6:45PM - Abigail Anderson.

You decided it was the last straw, and prodded her once more.

7:00PM - I'm so done. If you're not here in the next ten minutes I'm going home.

You practically threw your phone at the table, and crossed your arms to wait out the next ten minutes, just you and your fourth glass of wine. Ten minutes later, your glass is empty and you're flagging down the waitress for the check. You pretended not to notice the pitying look she gave you.

7:04 - I'm venmo requesting you for my drinks

You called an uber and steeped in your anger all the way home. Wine-drunk and pissed off, you kicked off your shoes and fell into bed, still dressed up with nowhere to go. Your phone buzzed, and you were on it immediately.

Abby, 7:30PM - Held up at work for a bit, check in just a sec

"Oh you've got to be kidding me," you blurt out loud, "you didn't even read them, did you?" you called to the empty room.

You, 7:31PM - cool, have so much fun

Abby, 7:40PM - ???

Abby, 7:52PM - We were getting drinks tonight?? Where at? I can still meet you there if you give me just a bit.

You: 7:53PM - Dinner, not drinks. Made a reservation 3 weeks ago and sent you the invite. It's on the calendar on the fridge."

You: 7:54PM - And don't bother, I'm already home.

Your message was read instantly, but you couldn't see the three dots so you knew Abby wasn't typing.

'You fucked up. Fucked up real bad this time' Abby thought to herself as she grabbed a bouquet of grocery store flowers and a tub of ice cream from the passenger seat of her car. She took deep breaths as she climbed the steps to your shared home. After the door locked behind her and she'd toed off her shoes, Abby checked her phone for the time, '8:48PM.' "Fuck..." she whispered under her breath. Hours late for your date, and it took her far too long to get out of the office, pick up the flowers and ice cream, bear through Seattle traffic, and make it home to you.

The lights were out and the house was silent as she made her way to your bedroom. She saw you through the partially opened door, flopped face down in the bed, wearing a dress and stockings that were far too formal for bedtime. Maybe it was a little too late for flowers and ice cream. Abby pushed the door open, and it gave her away as the hinges creaked.

You stirred, tiredly lifting your head to turn and glare at Abby. She had to hold in a wince at the two tracks of mascara down your cheeks. You didn't seem excited to see her, rewarding her presence only with a "hmph" and dropping your head back onto the bed. Muffled, she could barely make out your complaint of "bout time you showed up." She held in a chuckle at your stubbornness, knowing it would only get her in more trouble. It didn’t help that you were so cute when you’re angry.

Abby sighed and started to peel her blazer from her broad shoulders, "I know I'm late, I didn't mean to let this happen. You know I hate disappointing you, honey."

You sat up quickly, "oh don't you honey me, Abigail."

"Mhm, so we're using government names now?"

"Yep," you quickly replied.

Abby called out for you with a pleading tone, "Listen, I'm sorry. I got wrapped up at work and-"

"They needed you, yes, I know," you looked her straight in the eyes, "we've been here before, Abby, but it never changes. No matter how many times you say sorry, it's not worth much unless you actually change the action you keep being sorry for."

"Baby, you know I never want to disappoint you."

You sat upright and threw your hands in the air, “then stop doing it! Yeah okay your job needs you, but I need you too. I don't think it's selfish of me to want one night alone with the woman who claims she loves me.”

Abby stepped closer to you and pointed an accusing finger in your direction. “Don’t. Don’t say that, you know I love you more than anything.”

"Then act like it!" you sob, "because sometimes it feels like you love your job more. Because this isn't the first time, Abby, and it obviously won't be the last." You had realized right when you said them that your words were too harsh, and choked on your next breath.

Abby was hurt but overcome with shame at the realization that she’d been hurting you consistently. For you to feel second to her hit her like a ton of bricks. Abby sat beside you on the bed, leaning forward with her head in her hands. After a heavy sigh, she looked up to meet your eyes, "how long did you wait at the restaurant for?"

You chuckled humorlessly, "psh... nearly an hour and a half."

"I see... well you look really pretty if that's worth anything."

"Ha! You should have seen me two hours ago when my mascara wasn't on my chin."

Abby smiled. Even though it was sarcastic, you still kept your humor, and that was a good sign. "Well, I think the mascara tracks bring the whole look together."

You chuckled again, "you really think so?"

She smiled wider, dimples showing on her cheeks. "You look gorgeous, sweetie. Now come on, up up, gotta get you ready for bed." Abby gave your wrist a gentle tug, but you groaned and remained firmly in place. Your many glasses of wine must have caught up to you. Sliding her arms under your limp frame, Abby lifted you from the bed and carried you to the en suite bathroom.

You sat on toilet lid as she ran a hot bubble bath. While the tub filled, Abby grabbed makeup wipes from your drawer and set to cleaning you up. She held your chin gently with one hand and wiped the smeared makeup from your eyes and cheeks. You had relaxed into her touch and let your eyes slip closed while she wiped them, being drawn from your reverie by a kiss on the nose. "There, all clean. Lets get you in the bath now."

After you had submerged your aching muscles in the water, you looked up at Abby expectantly. "Need anything else, princess?"

"I need you to come sit in the bath with me."

Abby couldn't stifle a laugh, making out through chuckles, "baby, I'd hardly fit in there, plus there's too much water in it right now. It'll overflow if I try to get in there with you."

You pouted and looked away at her refusal. After a moment, you pulled the plug from the bottom of the tub to lower the water. Abby smiled, thinking she must have earned back your favor if you were being this stubborn for her company. She couldn't resist when you looked up at her and plead "I just wanna be close to you." Abby's heart thumped in her chest at you admission, so she undressed.

She was right that the bath would overflow, even after you had drained a few inches of water. But it didn't matter when you were snug between Abby's spread legs, back pressed to her front and your head resting against her shoulder. Her fingers scratched at your scalp and played with her hair as she hummed. You melted into her gentle touch, content. All you had wanted was her time, and her presence.

#tlou 2 #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou #abby x reader #wlw #hurt comfort #fluff

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favslarue · 3 days

Text

Pro-hero Katsuki Bakugo NSFW inspired by THE DINNER - Billie Eilish

Warnings: Rough sex, stalking, dirty talk, humiliation, cumming in mouth.

English is not my first language, 100% accept advices and correction in the grammar and vocabulary, but please be nice. 🥹

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆

You never thought that you would ever commit a crime worst than stealing to eat or getting into fights with other delinquents.

But then he arrested you after you had beaten the shit out of some rich kid who like to go to your neighborhood and pretend they’re dangerous gang members.

When in fact, they’re just being used by the actual dealers, who know there won’t be big consequences for those kids, their parents will just pay the authorities and they will be free to sell those drugs to their rich friends again.

You knew that, you knew that the criminals you know wouldn’t let those people mess with your family, you knew that they weren’t shit

But for some reason, the moment your little brother came home crying saying they offered him drugs.

That one of them tried to persuade him to sell that shit too, saying that “your thot sister won’t have to sell her body to put food on the table anymore”.

That wasn’t truth, but still, your brother believed him for a moment. That fucking moment tou saw red, you couldn’t control your anger.

The moment you jumped that teenager you weren’t thinking straight, you didn’t consider that your brother had nobody else than you.

And that gang of little pussies didn’t dared to do something to you, so they called the cops.

They called the fucking cops, but the pro hero Dynamight came with them. Your neighborhood had a fame, so they thought it was something way worse.

Next thing you know, you are in the prison cell, after hearing all type of shit from that asshole dad, it really didn’t matter if he was the gang member in the picture, you dared to touch that daddy’s boy.

After at least 2 or 3 hours sat there, still feeling the blood pounding in your chest, you hands and knees sore and bleeding. A female guard opened that cell.

- Y/N? got lucky someone paid you bail - The guard said, she clearly wasn’t happy.

- Me? Are you sure - You said confused, you didn’t had a lot of people who cared for you, and those who did, almost didn’t had money to eat.

- Yeah! Dynamight did, even defended you when that kid’s dad were trying to take you on court - She wasn’t telling you that to be nice, she wanted to know what kind of relationship you had with the pro hero.

- The dad almost exploded when the number 1 hero yelled at his child for being a gang member! - She continued, trying to get something out of you. - He threatened to investigate the teenager and his friends. Do you know him?

- No! Never seen him in my life. - Why would he do that? You asked yourself.

Don't be afraid of me, I'm what you need

I saw you on the screens, I know we're meant to be

You're starrin' in my dreams, In magazines

After that, you stole a cellphone, it was easy considering your invisibility quirk, and connected to a neighbor wifi. You needed to know more about that hero. Just out of curiosity.

You followed all the online forums about Dynamight.

When somebody opened a Live video of him saving someone you ran to the place were it was happening, just to see him arresting the criminals and giving interviews

You're lookin' right at me

I'm here around the clock

I'm waitin' on your block

And after that, you followed him home, every. single. time.

Sometimes you even dared to enter his house. The first time, you managed to get in as soon as he opened the door.

After sneaking in, you couldn’t find a way out, so you just spent the night there, watching him, learning his routine. You even discovered his real name, Katsuki Bakugo. You watched him sleep that night.

He clearly was agitated, sometimes he woke up scared and turned the lights on, walked two or three times around the house, to make sure he was alone, checked if the doors and windows were locked.

He was smart to notice something was wrong, but didn’t figure you were the one disturbing his sleep, or so you thought.

You left at morning, when he opened the windows to let the sunlight in the room.

Some weeks later you had already figured every single way in and out, but he was being more careful, he even adopted a guard dog.

It was a huge one, you even considered stopping your visits, but you realized quickly that it was a gentle dog. It got used to your presence very quickly.

Trying to conciliate your obsession and raising your brother was hard, so sometimes you stole from his fridge. You knew he wouldn’t mind.

I waited on the corner 'til I saw the sitter leave

Was easy getting over and I landed on my feet

I came in through the kitchen lookin' for something to eat

I left a calling card so they would know that it was me

You were tired of only watching him, you wanted more. You wanted him.

So when you figured he needed a secretary, you took the chance.

Lying in your curriculum, you knew everything that he needed. And honestly, you needed the job.

You even eliminated the other candidates, you didn’t kill them, obviously. Just scared the shit out of them, some even left the estate.

While I'm away, don't read my mail

Just bring a veil

And come visit me in jail

You got the job, of course. And after all that, you can’t back down. You will get what you want. You will have him.

You were in his office, with other employee who were showing you the company.

- This is Y/N sir. She is your new secretary, I sent you a copy of her resume and…

- You can go now, I want to know her better. - He interrupted her.

She looked at you almost saying “good luck” and left.

- I know you, don’t I? Could you remind me where did we met? - He said, his words seemed truthful, but not his eyes… They were daring you to lie.

- You saved me once, but I don’t think you remember that. - It wasn’t exactly a lie.

- Saved you from what? - Fuck. He remembers.

You decided to gaslight him, you wouldn’t destroy what you fought so hard for. You have to make something up.

- Last year bank robbery, I was one of the people that were held hostage. - You thankfully know every single one of his operations by head.

He chuckled, looking at you in disbelief.

- You’re a good liar, but my memory is way better. - You tilted your head, trying look confused. - If the police station were the only time we crossed paths, maybe I wouldn’t remember, but the last months you have been quite present, don’t you?

But please don't call the cops

They'll make me stop

And I just wanna talk

- I don’t know what you’re talking about

He let out a loud laugh, it was dark and scary.

He got up from the chair and circled his tabled. Getting dangerously close to you. You didn’t move a muscle.

He was taller and significantly bigger than you. It was intimidating, but you and your sick mind were thinking about getting pinned under him, held down by those enormous biceps

- It isn’t a coincidence that you always are where I am at, working. I noticed you watching me saving people, every single time. And you always left after me. - He said in a low tone, if he wasn’t so close you wouldn’t hear him.

I'll go back to the diner

I'll write another letter

I hope you'll read it this time, you better

You don’t know that yet, but Bakugo were just as deranged as you are.

When he paid your bail, it was out of heart, but instead of moving on with his life he researched about you, the schools you went, your family, all of your crimes. Things that not even the police knew.

After that, he spotted you on a crowd of people that were watching him arrest a random criminal, more than one time.

Noticed that you didn’t leave even after everyone did, and that you were trying your best to not catch his attention.

You were waiting for something, you were waiting for him.

And after the third time, he noticed you using your quirk, that’s when everything made fucking sense.

All the nights felling watched, the sensation of being followed,

The feminine perfume that just didn’t left his house, his room, his dog, his uniform.

It was you, this whole fucking time.

Bet I could change your life

You could be my wife

He would pretend to be asleep just to hear your steps around his house.

Just to hear you petting his dog and whispering some kind words to it.

Just to feel you coming closer to his sleeping face and stare.

Could get into a fight, I'll say you're right

And you'll kiss me goodnight

- Mr. Dynamight, I just want the job. You’re confusing me with someone else.

In a quick movement he grabbed your wrists and put them behind your back, bended you over his table, and positioned himself behind you.

You tried to set yourself free, but it was completely useless, you could swear that he would arrest you right there and then.

- You’re fucking insane - He said in your ear.

The cops around the corner stopped me when I tried to leave

They told me I was crazy and they knocked me off my feet

You closed your eyes, accepting your faith. To be honest you didn’t regret a thing, at least he sees you now.

Also, his feelings for you are intense, even if they are anger and hatred, that is enough for you.

But a fucking kiss on your neck and he leaning over you was the last thing you expected.

Your body stiffened, you held your breath.

- What are you doing? - You whispered, shaking.

That’s when you felt his hard dick on your back. What the fuck? Was he excited from all of this? Was he fucking crazy?

They came in through the kitchen lookin' for something discrete

I left a calling card so they would know that it was me

- You’re not the only one who has an obsession.

He didn’t loosen his grip in your wrists, and continued kissing and biting your neck and sometimes the back of your neck, the kisses were wet and aggressive.

- And I am insane? - You weren’t trying to be ironic, you were just astonished.

He didn’t saw it that way, what lead you to receive a hard slap in your ass, and a hair pull right after.

- You don’t get to judge me, bitch. - He said in your ear while holding your hair tightly.

- I wasn’t…- Another slap, you took that as a command to shut up.

He lifted the skirt of your office dress and grabbed the cheek of your ass, that were red from the previous mistreatment.

He slid a finger into your panties and felt your wetness, holding your clit between his fingers while you breathed heavily under him, trying your best to not make noises.

Suddenly, your thong is on your mouth and he’s kneeling to face your wet cunt, he blowed cold air against it, which made you tremble. He held your thighs with enough strength to bruise.

You bended even more, and he licked your folds, sucked your clit, his tongue swirling around your wetness, creating a knot in your low belly.

His mouth is hot and ravishing, almost like he liked the taste.

- Mhm… Dynamight… - You moaned, not being able to complete your sentence.

And with that, you came quickly. The tension and need was too much to handle. Your trembling legs gave in, almost falling, if it weren’t his grip on your thighs.

You couldn’t process your orgasm and he was standing again, his tip teasing you folds, sliding from your entrance to your clit, and going back to your entrance.

You throw your hips back, trying to cause some friction. But you were held in place, and received a hard smack in your ass, and you could swear he used his quirk because of the unusual burn and the loud noise it made

- You’re a big girl, use your words.

- Can you… mhm. Fuck me? Why are you taking so long?

He chuckled, mockingly - I see you’re not so stupid, what a surprise.

Shoving only the tip, he started stretching you out, you’re not a virgin, but there’s way too long since you were fucked, and you didn’t saw his dick, so you weren’t aware of what expected you.

Only the tip already hurt, if it weren’t for how wet you are it probably wouldn’t fit.

It was clear that Katsuki was holding back, each centimeter entering you was driving you closer to madness. Your pussy is sucking him even more.

Bakugo decided to stop torturing you and shoved it entirely into you. It made you scream and the piece of fabric felt from your mouth.

He started pounding into you, not letting you adjust to his entire length, which is huge.

- Put it back in your mouth, if people hear me fucking my secretary it will be worse for your reputation than mine.

You obeyed, not because you cared about what people thought, that was the reason you were there anyway. His voice ordering you around made it impossible to not comply.

The table cracking, the friction of your nipples against it. Your pussy burning and throbbing as he fucked you from behind, his grunts and his hand on your hips and ass. Your ass sore from the smacks.

All of that helped another orgasm to grow. One of your hands reached for him, he held your wrist and pulled your other arm, to hold them both as he gripped your hair with his other big hand.

You came with that, held your breath and felt dizzy, almost like you were going to pass out. Your pussy had it’s own heartbeat at this point.

He didn’t slowed his pace, in fact it became more frenetic as you did your best to not keep the oxygen from going to your brain

Suddenly, he pulled out. Turned you around and pushed you into your knees.

- Gonna cum in your mouth, doll.

He stroked sometimes as he stared down at you, face with his usual frown, but his lips were parted and eyes darker.

You opened your mouth in anticipation, he grabbed your face, to keep it like that (but also to caress your cheek while doing it)

As he shoot his loads of seed down your throat some spilled in the conner of your lips, his thumb cleaned your lips and shoved into your tongue.

- Swallow it. - You complied - Good whore.

He stared at you on the floor a bit, you looked away, and that made him smile

He lowered to your level, gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him.

Caught you off guard when his lips touched yours, his tongue invaded your mouth, in a dominant yet gentle way. Your whole body shivered.

He broke the kiss and looked at you, without saying a word, he stood up.

- Get up - He circled his desk, without letting you see it, he took your underwear that it was above it, and hided it in his pocket.

You got up, fixing your dress and trying to put your hair in place, looking for your underwear, but you were too embarrassed to stay there longer, so you just decided to left without your panties.

Turning around to leave, not wanting to face the consequences, or him.

- Did I say you could leave? - You just stopped there, still not facing him

You feel him stepping closer, until he is behind you.

He put your hair to the side, exposing your neck and smelling you there. You got goosebumps all over your body.

I memorized your number, now I call you when I please

I tried to end it all, but now I'm back up on my feet

- When your shift ends, come to my house. You don’t need the address, right? - And kissed your neck. - You may leave now.

I saw you in the car with someone else and couldn't sleep

If somethin' happens to him, you can bet that it was me

–3956

310-807-3956

#Spotify #bakugou smut #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #dynamight #bnha x reader

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evanbuckwad · 8 hours

Text

quick little bucktommy story

been thinking about my favorite 911 canon bisexual, his boyfriend, and bobby nash recently so, here's this <3 it's tame btw

Tommy almost thought Evan had trailed off to sleep.

They had curled up on his couch after cleaning up dinner, catching a bit of a movie with buff, shirtless men fighting while Tommy mindlessly trailed his fingers through Evan’s curls. Evan had indulged in his love of Jeopardy! with Tommy-- not that Tommy was at all surprised, what with Evan's unlimited knowledge of trivial information – and, when possible, they would watch it (and compete against each other).

Tommy could feel the way his breath hadn’t yet evened out, negating his suspicion that Evan was asleep. Still, he had trailed off from his earlier tangents from dinner, and was much more attentive to the random movie than he expected.

“Hey,” Tommy nudged his boyfriend slightly. “You okay?”

Evan blinked his eyes rapidly, seemingly coming back to Earth. “Hm? Oh – oh, yeah. I’m good. Just thinking.” He brushed off with a smile.

Tommy felt the corners of his mouth frown. “You wanna talk about it?” Tommy’s dark blue eyes searched Evan’s light blue, seeking out the truth behind the gears churning in his head.

Evan leaned over and kissed his temple. “I’m alright. Maybe we’ll talk about it later. Anyway,” he launched himself over Tommy and grabbed the remote, turning up the volume. “This…is….Jeopardy!” he called, in time with Johnny Gilbert’s announcement on the screen.

Tommy filed his concern away, trusting Evan to vocalize his needs, and knowing he could push if necessary. He settled in on the couch with a smile as Evan started getting excited about the categories of the night.

They climbed into bed a few hours later, languidly enjoying the others’ company. Some nights they spent together were hot and frantic, some were romantic and soft, and Tommy enjoyed every variety they ran through. Knowing neither of them had a shift in the morning, they took their time exploring and touching, neither frantic nor soft, but somewhere in between.

Laying in a hazy, sweaty heap afterwards, Tommy turned his head slightly to kiss Evan’s chest. “You good?”

Evan’s laugh was audible through his chest, and Tommy shifted his head just to catch the smile on his boyfriend’s face. “Tommy, did you not see how much I just came? I –”

Tommy poked Evan forcefully. “I did see that, thank you very much. I would even say I helped that happen.” He laughed at the mumbled reply of “you did.” “You were just quiet earlier.”

“I wasn’t quiet when you –”

“Evan,” Tommy laughed, mixing with Evan’s pleased chuckle, each man lightly tracing over the other’s body with their fingertips.

“Yes, Tommy. I’m good. I’m great, actually. Very relaxed.” Tommy could hear the smirk in his voice even without looking at his face. Evan stretched and curled up slightly, pulling Tommy closer into him. “I might fall asleep.”

Tommy shifted, unable to stop himself from kissing Evan’s birthmark before settling back to his spot. “Me, too. Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

Evan hummed. “You, too. Love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Tommy settled into peaceful dreams of blue skies and blue eyes…until he was smacked awake by the owner of those very blue eyes not much later.

“Evan, are you okay?” Tommy blinked the sleep out of his eyes, sitting up with his heart hammering in his chest. As his vision focused, he found Evan, seemingly unharmed, looking intensely at him.

“Is Bobby…hot?”

Tommy blinked again, not processing the words coming out of Evan’s mouth. “Are you hurt?”

Evan waved his hand dismissively, seemingly assuaging the concern in Tommy’s voice. “I’m fine. I’ve just been…thinking. And I think…I think Bobby…is hot?”

Tommy smiled, yawning slightly. “Well, yeah,” he started. “Captain Nash is an attractive man. You think Sergeant Grant got with him just for his charm and skills in the kitchen?”

Evan threw his hands in the air like he didn’t know the answer. “I never really thought about it that much!”

“Babe,” Tommy tilted his head. “Is this what you woke me up for?”

Evan got up, a slight jitter in his very being. “I–I mean, I’ve had a few moments like this before, since you kissed me. Maddie even made fun of me that day I told her about our first date, did I ever tell you all that I said that day? I told her I had always been an ally, as you know, and that sometimes I’d check out a hot guy’s ass, but that was normal, and she said it wasn’t abnormal, but like, I don’t know, I’ve been realizing how much I do that, and how hot guys really are and –”

“Babe, breathe.” Tommy crossed to where Evan was and held him by the shoulders. “This is a very normal part of the process.” Tommy gave a small shrug. “Men are attractive. I’m sure glad you think so, too.”

Evan caught his breath and looked deeply into Tommy’s eyes. “But…Bobby?”

Tommy threw his head back laughing before turning around and crawling back into bed. “Yes?”

Evan followed his lead, climbing in after him. His voice was smaller as he spoke. “It’s just…that’s weird.”

“That’s not weird. Captain Nash is hot. And always has been. Don’t forget he was my captain before he was yours.”

Evan’s head tilted at this, his attention honing in on Tommy’s comment. “Did you always think he was hot?”

Tommy hummed as he reversed the positions they had fallen asleep in; this time, holding Evan to his chest. “Well, yeah. I mean, I thought he was nice to look at, but I was still struggling with my sexuality at the time. But it was pretty much confirmed when he took off his shirt that night at the bar," he finished, nodding to himself at the memory.

"Cap–Captain Bobby Nash? Took his shirt off at a bar?” Evan shook his head, trying to understand. “What bar? When? Why?"

Tommy’s eyes focused with a raised eyebrow on his boyfriend. “Should I be concerned you’re so interested in this?”

“N-no!” Evan fumbled over his words in an effort to reassure his boyfriend. “I’m not – it’s not –”

“Baby, relax. It’s okay.” Tommy held him closer. “Settle in, and I’ll tell you about Bobby’s first few weeks at the 118.” Tommy bent his neck to kiss Evan. “And if you’re lucky,” he quietly spoke into his curls. “I’ll tell you about the dream I had that made me start looking at changing stations.”

---

inspired by the buckbobby content uptick recently and the heartstopper "nick realizes he has a crush on david tennant" comic (i can only find it on reddit here) <3 xo

#i didnt really check over this and i havent written in a while but here? lol?#bucktommy #buckbobby #v writes sometimes #uhhhhhhh!!!!#911 fics #bucktommy fics #happy premiere day! lmao

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lxvsiick · 2 days

Text

TOO SWEET | LEE RIWOO X READER

PAIRING: donut lover! lee riwoo x clueless! fem! reader

SUMMARY: After stealing the last donut from him, Riwoo declares Y/n as his enemy -- in which Y/n is clueless to the rivalry between her and Riwoo after stealing the last donut from the bakery.

GENRE: one-sided rivalry, enemies to lovers?, imagine

WORDCOUNT: 1.9k

A/N: a riwoo imagine/story! im so sorry it took awhile for me to write a riwoo story! i had many ideas for him but didn't know how to execute it ,, i also just go back from an nct dream concert so i am a little tired ,, anyways, enjoy!

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆

The smell of fresh pastries hit Riwoo as he and his friends piled into the bakery. His eyes immediately locked onto the display case, and there it was—the last glazed donut, shining like a beacon of happiness in an otherwise dreary morning.

“I’ve been dreaming about this donut for days,” he announced dramatically, pushing his friends aside with an excited grin. “Today’s the day.”

Just as he approached the counter, the worker sighed and picked up the microphone, voice crackling through the bakery's speakers. “Attention customers, we are now officially out of donuts. Thank you!”

His heart stopped. “What? No donuts?” he said, disbelief and shock mixing in his tone. Riwoo leaned over the counter, craning his neck to see who had snatched it. There, sitting by the window, casually taking a bite of his donut, was none other than her—the girl from three of his classes.

Y/n.

His eyes narrowed as she wiped some sugar off her cheek, oblivious to his presence.

“No way,” he muttered, stepping back from the counter. “It was her.”

His friends exchanged confused looks. “Who?” Jaehyun asked.

“That girl,” he said, pointing dramatically in her direction. “She’s in three of my classes... and she just took the last donut.”

There was a long pause as his friends stared between him and the girl, slowly processing what just happened.

“She’s my enemy now.”

Woonhak snorted. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” Riwoo said, crossing his arms. “She has declared war.”

As if on cue, Y/n glanced up from her seat, caught his gaze, and smiled sweetly, completely unaware of the chaos she had just unleashed in his world.

His friends burst into laughter. "Dude, I think you're overreacting."

“Nope. This is personal,” he said with a deadpan expression, eyes still fixed on her as if they were in the middle of a silent showdown.

"Your donut obsession's gonna get you killed one day," Sungho joked, slapping his back.

"Only if she gets to me first," he said, turning away with mock intensity.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆

The lecture hall buzzed with the usual pre-class chatter as Riwoo slouched in his seat, scrolling through his phone. Sungho sat beside him, lazily flipping through the notes from last week’s lecture, not really paying attention.

“Dude, I don’t get why we have to be here so early,” Sungho grumbled, tossing the notebook onto the desk.

“Because,” Riwoo replied, still focused on his screen, “if I have to suffer, so do you.”

Just then, the door to the lecture hall swung open, and a group of students entered, chatting and finding their seats. Riwoo didn’t pay much attention until he saw her—Y/n—walking in with her friend, laughing at something they were talking about.

His heart skipped for a brief second, and before he knew it, his eyes were glued to her.

She passed by his row, locking eyes with him for the briefest moment. She smiled—a sweet, innocent smile that lit up her face. She gave a small wave, like she hadn’t taken the last donut at the bakery just a couple of days ago.

He stared back, frozen in place. “Oh, she’s good,” he muttered under his breath.

As soon as she and her friend walked past, finding seats a few rows ahead, he turned to Sungho, face set in a serious expression.

“Did you see that?” he whispered, voice low as if he was about to reveal a grand conspiracy.

Sungho raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Y/n before turning back to him. “See what?”

“That smile,” Riwoo hissed. “She smiled at me. Like nothing happened. Like she didn’t steal my donut right from under my nose.”

Sungho blinked in confusion. “Uh...okay? What’s the big deal?”

He leaned in closer, his tone darkening dramatically. “She’s my enemy, man. Don’t you get it? That was a taunt. She’s mocking me.”

“Dude, she smiled at you. It’s a smile, not a declaration of war.”

“No, no, no. That’s exactly what she wants you to think,” he said, shaking his head. “That smile was strategic. It was planned. She’s trying to mess with me.”

Sungho snorted, holding back laughter. “So, let me get this straight: you think she’s secretly plotting against you because of... a donut?”

“Exactly,” he said, pointing a finger like he’d just cracked the code to some great mystery. “It’s psychological warfare. She’s playing the long game.”

Sungho leaned back in his chair, giving him a look that was part disbelief, part amusement. “You’re out of your mind.”

“I’m telling you, she’s my nemesis now,” he said with finality, crossing his arms.

Sungho shook his head, laughing under his breath. “You’re gonna have to get over that donut someday, man.”

“Never,” Riwoo replied, glancing once more at Y/n sitting a few rows ahead. “This isn’t about the donut anymore. It’s about principle.”

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆

Riwoo slouched in his seat, staring at the clock as it ticked closer to the start of class. Without his friends in this lecture, the room felt emptier, and he wasn’t sure whether that was a blessing or a curse. He glanced around, vaguely recognizing some faces but not caring enough to acknowledge anyone.

His eyes drifted to the door as more students shuffled in—and then, of course, she walked in. Y/n, his sworn enemy, the girl who took the last donut and smiled at him as if she hadn't committed a crime against humanity. She sat a couple of rows ahead of him, chatting with someone else, completely unaware of the silent feud raging in his mind.

He sighed, burying his head in his hands. “I can’t escape her,” he muttered under his breath.

The professor cleared his throat at the front of the room, silencing the chatter. “Alright, everyone. Today, we’re starting the partner project I mentioned last week. I’ll be assigning the pairs. No, you don’t get to choose.”

Riwoo groaned internally. “Great,” he thought sarcastically. “Just what I need. Some random classmate to drag me down.”

The professor began rattling off names, pairing students up row by row. Riwoo wasn’t really listening until he heard—

“Lee Sanghyuk and... Jung Y/n.”

His heart stopped. Her? He blinked in disbelief, sitting up straight in his chair. “No way,” he whispered to himself, cursing under his breath. Out of all the people in this class, he had to be partnered with her? The universe was mocking him.

“Of course,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “Of course, it’s her.”

As if on cue, Y/n turned around in her seat, flashing him that sweet, innocent smile again. She waved lightly. “Sanghyuk! Looks like we’re partners!” she said brightly, as if this were the best news she’d heard all day.

He forced a tight smile, trying to mask the turmoil swirling inside him. “Y-yeah,” he said, his voice strained. “Lucky me.”

She hopped out of her seat and moved to sit beside him, dropping her bag on the desk with a friendly grin. “I’m so glad! I was really hoping I’d get someone I know. This project’s gonna be so much fun!”

Riwoo blinked at her enthusiasm. Fun? The word echoed in his mind like some kind of cruel joke. How could she be so cheerful when she was his nemesis? She had no idea what kind of rivalry she’d unknowingly sparked.

He shot a quick glance around the room, hoping no one else noticed the sheer irony of this situation. Meanwhile, she was already pulling out her notebook, flipping to a fresh page with a determined look on her face. “So, I was thinking we could divide the work evenly. I’ll handle the research part, if you’re cool with the writing. Or we could switch if that’s better for you.”

Riwoo blinked, thrown off by her kindness. “Uh... yeah, sure. Whatever works,” he said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

Y/n beamed at him. “Great! We make a good team already, huh?”

His jaw clenched slightly. A good team? Was she serious? Didn’t she realize she had stolen his donut, smiled at him like nothing happened, and now, the universe was forcing them to work together? This was some next-level psychological warfare.

She glanced at him, noticing his quietness. “Are you okay? You seem... tense.”

“Tense?” he repeated, trying to laugh it off. “No, no. I’m fine.” Inside, though, he was still cursing his luck. How could she be so oblivious?

“Awesome! I’ll message you tonight with some ideas so we can start brainstorming,” she said, already scribbling down some notes. “I’m really looking forward to this!”

He stared at her, utterly baffled. How could someone be this sweet? And why did it feel like it made the whole situation worse?

“Yeah... me too,” he mumbled, forcing a smile. But inside, all he could think was, This is going to be a nightmare.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆

Riwoo pushed open the door to the bakery, the familiar scent of fresh pastries filling the air. His eyes instinctively scanned the room for her, the girl who had unknowingly become the source of his donut-related anguish.

There she was—sitting at a table near the window, already settled in. She was leaning over her notebook, scribbling something down, but as he approached, she looked up and met his gaze with that same sweet smile. The one that used to make his blood boil.

“Hey, Sanghyuk!” Y/n greeted, her voice cheerful as she waved him over. “I went ahead and got us some desserts. I hope that’s okay.”

Riwoo raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the table. There, in front of her, was a plate with an assortment of donuts. Glazed, powdered, chocolate—every kind imaginable. His heart sank, and then leapt, all at once.

“I didn’t know what flavors you liked,” she continued with an innocent shrug, “so I just got a bunch. I figured we could share. I love donuts. They’re one of my favorites.”

His brain short-circuited for a moment. Did she just say donuts are her favorite?

“You... you like donuts?” he asked, cautiously sitting down across from her, eyes still fixated on the pile of pastries.

She giggled lightly. “Yeah, they’re my absolute favorite. I probably eat way too many of them, but I can’t help it. They’re so good, right?”

Riwoo blinked, stunned. This couldn’t be real. The girl who had taken the last donut in front of him—his enemy, his nemesis—also loved donuts? The very thing that had sparked his irrational rivalry?

“Uh... yeah, they’re my favorite too,” he admitted, leaning back in his chair as his mind reeled. “I didn’t know.”

She beamed, looking genuinely pleased. “Really? That’s awesome! We’ve got something in common then. Maybe we should work at bakeries instead of focusing on this project,” she joked, popping a small piece of donut into her mouth.

Riwoo couldn’t help but stare at her, dumbfounded. This was the same girl he’d been holding a grudge against for days—over a donut, no less—and now, here she was, sharing donuts with him, unknowingly erasing the rivalry he’d built in his head.

His initial instinct was to remain defensive, but as he watched her happily munch on the pastries, a strange realization crept in. She wasn’t his enemy. In fact, she might actually be... nice. Maybe even too nice.

“She’s not that bad,” he muttered under his breath, leaning forward to grab a donut from the plate. His one-sided rivalry suddenly seemed ridiculous. Maybe he could put it on hold, at least for now.

“What was that?” Y/n asked, looking up from her notebook.

“Oh, nothing,” he said, offering a half-smile as he took a bite of his donut. “Just thinking... maybe we make a good team after all.”

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆

MASTERLIST

#kpop #boynextdoor #boynextdoor x reader #bnd imagines #bnd #boynextdoor fluff #boynextdoor imagines #lee sanghyuk #lee riwoo #riwoo #riwoo x reader #boynextdoor riwoo #riwoo boynextdoor #riwoo bnd #riwoo imagines #riwoo fluff #lee riwoo x reader

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fictionismyreality3 · 1 day

Text

Take a Break

Warnings: hints at smut no actual smut, romance and everything that comes with it

Notes: every so often the need for this man will just suddenly pop up like gOD LET ME LIVE

The fingers you were clenching around your pen were beginning to hurt. Trying to write this essay was making you feel more like a wide eyed freshman than someone aiming to finish senior year at the top of their class. You stared aimlessly at your laptop, your eyes burning from how long you’d been looking over the work you had so far.

Which was only the title.

Just 2 more months. 2 months and then you could graduate, and you’d have your degree, and you could have your dream job and not be cramming book after book in your head, hoping you’d pick up the knowledge when really all it did was make you feel like punching your-

“Darlin’? You doing okay with your homework?” The honeyed voice of your boyfriend echoed around your dorm you, a light breeze the only warning you were given as he appeared randomly behind you.

“Yeah, Jasper. M’fine.” But just looking at his unfairly gorgeous face made you want to punch him instead of your TA.

It wasn’t fair. He got to be stupidly handsome and smart and he could easily ace your classes, probably finishing your degree in a few days with his stupid fucking vampire memory, and everything was so easy for him that you- “Honey, you’re frownin’ at me.” Jasper’s words drew you out of your little thought spiral.

“Yeah, I know, I know.. I’m sorry, I just..” You took a deep breath. “This is making want to rip my hair out.”

Jasper’s face now wore a frown mirroring your own, his gaze ever attentive, searching your face like he was looking for some hidden solution you couldn’t see. He ran his hand through your hair soothingly, his thumb brushing away the crease between your brows. The frustration and self-loathing that was radiating off you had hit him like a thick summer heat, pulling him up to your dorm in an instant.

He didn’t like to see his pretty little mate upset.

You were supposed to be happy. It was the last few months of school and he should have been feeling waves of glee and satisfaction dripping from your pores. Not this. And so, Jasper made up his mind. It wasn’t often that he used his abilities on you, it was something you’d discussed early into your relationship, something you insisted could only be a last resort kind of thing.

But the tears welling in your big eyes made his heart clench, and he found himself layering calm and relaxation over you like a blanket. “Why don’t you take a break, darlin’?”

Your head went all fuzzy, the cotton candy filling your skull making the words on your computer screen seem irrelevant. Blinking slowly, it took you a second to realize what was happening.

“No, no Jas, I have to finish this.” The words of protest sounded funny in your ears, the idea of doing anything but slumping back in your chair seemed exhausting. “No, you need to rest. You work so hard, honey.” Coaxing hands pushed you back in your seat, a sense of lethargy filling your bones as you hazily made out Jasper kneeling in front of you.

“Can’t.. I hav’to.. have..”

A Cheshire grin curled over Jaspers lips as he watched your body grow lax and pliant. Sure, adding little bouts of arousal between the relaxation would be breaking the rules you’d set, but he couldn’t have his mate overworking herself. Ghosting his hands up your legs, he pushed a little bit more bliss into you, enjoying the little whimper that slipped out.

“Don’t worry, darlin, I’m gonna take real good care of you.”

#jasper hale x y/n #jasper hale x you #jasper x you #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper cullen x reader #jasper hale x reader #jasper x reader #jasper whitlock #jasper cullen #jasper hale

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theheartnexttophan · 1 day

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Ok, so I’ve not seen anyone else talk about this, but I think it’s really cute, even if it’s a really small thing that required a LOT of investigation and explanation. So here is my

Black Jumper Theory

Obligatory disclaimer: I can’t prove this to be 100%-beyond-a-reasonable-doubt-definitely-true, but I feel like the jumps I had to make were reasonable enough to claim this as a theory

So first off, in Keeping or Yeeting My Entire Closet With Dan, Dan mentions several times how Phil has a lot of sparkly black jumpers (he says things like “you have 10 of them and they’re all identical,” “he has so many identical sparkly black jumpers,” and “sparkly black jumper number 510.”) But when Phil puts on this zebra print jumper, while debating about whether to keep it, he says “you bought this for me, Dan.”

We know Phil got the zebra print jumper for Christmas in 2016, because in his first video on AmazingPhil in 2017 (2017 WANTS ME DEAD), he’s wearing this jumper and mentions how he got it for Christmas. He talks about a bunch of his Christmas gifts in the first part of that video, (including a deer candle from Dan) and for everything he shows, he mentions who gave it to him, EXCEPT this jumper; he doesn’t say who it was from. As of the Keeping and Yeeting video, we know it was Dan.

But looking at Phil's first videos in other years, we can see that he also wore a sparkly/patterned black jumper in his first proper AmazingPhil video in 2016 and 2018 (so three years in a row.) In 2016, he does talk about Christmas presents, but doesn’t mention the jumper. He does show a blobfish plush and say that Dan got it for him, but considering how we know Dan got Phil a candle AND the jumper in 2017, I think it’s plausible that Dan got Phil both the blobfish and the houndstooth jumper he’s wearing in that video. In 2018, Phil doesn’t mention Christmas gifts or the jumper at all. (Also, I did look back on videos and Instagram posts, and didn’t find any time Phil wore any of these jumpers before their respective Christmases as far as I can tell.)

So based on all this evidence, I think it’s a reasonable jump to guess that from 2015-2017, Dan had a tradition of giving Phil a black jumper for Christmas.

Which leads us to January 11, 2018, when Phil posted this selfie on Instagram wearing the sparkly jumper, and said he wants to legally marry it. Which is SO CUTE considering Dan probably gave Phil that jumper.

BUT for even more evidence, Dan liked this Instagram post, and at the time, they didn’t really like each other’s Insta posts, even ones they tagged each other in (unless they had a specific reason to, like promo posts, and not even all of those). You can see this in my terribly screen recorded video of the posts before and after this one. (Interestingly, it was right around the time that Phil changed his hair to the quiff that they started liking each other’s posts consistently.)

So, when Phil posted that he wanted to marry the jumper, I can’t help but think of how Dan probably gave him the jumper, and how Dan also liked this single post, when that wasn’t a typical thing for him… maybe Phil wanting to marry the jumper wasn’t about the jumper at all… (pharriage hill)

But like I said, that’s just a theory… a phan theory

(Not that I’m necessarily saying there was actually anything wedding/engagement/whatever happening at the time, it’s more just the sentiment of it)

#Pharriage hill #<3 #Dan and Phil #Phan

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kaybreezy3000 · 10 hours

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that new head Cannon story was so good. Will you do something of a bigger scene of him in the apocalypse suffering or something like with him not okay and hitting like a mental break down and someone needs to help him. Family or whatever makes sense? Your broken season 4 five is amazing./ But anything you want to do would be appreciated

Please Hold me

~A one-shot reader request, rated General, 5780 words, This one for the sake of being different is Season 3 Five and his family, Mega Whump with no warnings other than panic attacks and traumatic flashbacks of the apocalypse

Summary: Set at the beginning of season 3, the pain that had been inflicted on Five mentally and physically up until this point comes to a head. Little did Five know, when the truth comes out and he finally breaks, he is going to get the love and support he was dying for all along.

(~Anon: Thank you for reading my last headcanon s4 story. I am so happy you liked it. I have written so many things with Five dealing with the demons we saw him fighting on the show. I never felt like they gave him his due on screen with that stuff, and then worse, he and his family never came to terms with any of it. It all just got swept under the rug for all of them, so here you go. Here's a little story that hopefully gives you what you were looking for in this request)

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

Standing in the lobby of the hotel Obsidian, as Five slowly passed him, looking even more out of it and mad than he did in the park right after they got their asses handed to them by the Sparrows, confused, Luther asked, “Where are you going?”

“I am going to get a lay of the land,” Five mumbled, then without another word, he made his way down the hall behind them, intent on looking for a bathroom. He didn’t feel like he was going to vomit anymore, but at least knowing where he could seemed like a good idea.

Five found his objective not long later. There was a small, very out of date public restroom just off the main foyer. Oddly, it was dark inside as he opened the door. Feeling around for a light switch, he quickly found one, and then just as fast, the brightness was painfully burning his blood shot eyes.

Moving on autopilot, Five used the toilet then found himself standing in front of the mirror, mindlessly washing his hands. When he looked up, he was taken aback.

His young face was a mess of dirty smudges and dried blood. There wasn’t an ounce of color to his skin. His clothes weren’t much better. Looking down, he saw that he was covered in grimy patches of dirt and who knew what else from the floor of Sissy’s barn. Without thinking, he tugged at his shirt, untucking it so he could pull it and his vest up.

His eyes traveled over the maze of purple and black bruises that covered nearly every square inch of his chest and torso. His fingers slowly moved over the darkest areas. There were three, and they happened to be exactly where the bullets had been after The Handler shot at him.

Five winced from the pain as he touched. His labored breathing started to get worse. He was starting to panic. The floor was swaying. His hands frantically grasped for the counter to prevent him from falling.

‘Breathe…just breathe,’ he mentally ordered himself, forcing his eyes to focus on the black and white tiled pattern on the floor.

“You can’t break. Not like this,” he panted as his insides rolled with sickness.

His head spun, but somehow, Five managed to stand up straight again, tucking his dress shirt back in his schoolboy shorts in a somewhat respectable way.

On the way back from the bathroom, he could hear Diego talking to the rest of his family as he sluggishly moved past the reception desk, heading back to the lounge area in the main lobby.

“Apocalypse avoided or not this time. Do you guys really think we should trust Five’s take on all this timeline stuff?” Diego asked.

Realizing they were talking about him, Five slowed his zombie-like pace even more.

“After all these years alone and then the messed-up shit he did after that for the Commission, I am pretty sure it’s safe to say Five is a little out there when it comes to his way of thinking,” Diego continued. “I’m not sure if you guys noticed, but he is not exactly what you’d call stable. Did you see his little moment back there at the Sparrow’s evil lair? I had a hallucination incident too after I got goobered on, but mine was at least awesome and if it had been real, it would have been great way to solve our differences with those assholes. Five was in la-la land.”

“Ah-huh… Dance offs are very realistic when trying to stake a claim on lives that are no longer yours,” Allison laughed while looking over at Viktor sitting next to her, who smiled tensely, clearly not doing so great either.

“You have a point,” Klaus said, deciding to chime in since no one else was. Rubbing his chin, his lips pulled to the side. “Our little old guy got all sorts of freaky with his imaginary girlfriend back there. Five’s Dolores thing is just…” He frowned. “I don’t think you can just come back from that kind of thing; he's so attached. Five may be on another level when it comes to brains, but that stuff…” He shook his head. “It did something to him. Bad stuff, like very very bad stuff that ruins you,” he finished, just as Five came back into the room.

Allison’s eyes shot Five’s way, but that didn’t stop Klaus.

Thinking their worried expressions meant that they didn’t understand what he was say, he kept going. “I’m just saying, I don't know about what's going on inside Five’s head or not, but I do know he was totally shaking the sheets with his plastic woman," Klaus laughed. "I mean, who can blame him, really, after all he went through. She’s hot and she doesn’t talk back and Five likes that. And we all know that he still considers Dolores a big part of his life whether she's here with him, or not. And even worse, who knows if Five ever got laid like for real real while he was with the Commission. He has no idea what it's like to have intimacy like that, not in a way that's real anyway. Just look at him now and his cute face always bent out of shape with rage. He’s a ticking time bomb of teenage hormonal insanity.”

Klaus pointed to small boutique across the grand lobby from where they were sitting.

“Someone should probably go tell them to hide their mannequins. We have a horny little monster on the loose,” he giggled, but then, realizing nobody else was laughing with him, he followed Allison’s wide-eyed line of sight straight towards Five.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, Five,” Klaus tried but Five was already turning. “Why didn’t anyone say he was right there?” he asked, looking at the stunned faces glaring back at him. “Five, wait!” Klaus tried again, but all he got was Five lifting his middle finger as he rushed down the hall he’d just come from.

Once out of sight, Five staggered, tripping over his own feet, frantically trying to get away from them. His head was pounding so hard he couldn’t think.

Falling into the elevator, he slumped against the wall, punching the floor with his room number on it.

Rushing to beat him, Klaus took off, sprinting up the stairway to the second floor. Racing down the maze of halls, he reached Five’s room a minute later, just as he was trying but failing to get his key in the door.

Suddenly, eyes rolling back in his head, Five started to fall. Klaus quickly reached out to balance him. “Whoa there,” he gasped, finally feeling just how small and vulnerable he was and that only made him feel worse about everything he’d just said about him.

Five was not the boy they all saw, but it was hard to remember that when the tormented eyes looking back at them were that of the little angry kid they’d lost so long ago.

Five blankly stared at Klaus, trying to focus, but his eyes wouldn’t cooperate. Klaus took the dangling keys from his finger, opening the door for him so he could help him across the small room. As soon as Five was next to the bunk beds, he slipped sideways onto the lower bunk, crashing into the musty bedding.

“Just stay down man, I’ll be right back,” Klaus ordered.

Five whimpered.

Klaus appeared a few minutes later, skidding around the door frame with a bottle of water and some crackers in hand.

He carefully sat down next to Five on the small mattress, his dark eyebrows furrowing with worry. “Are you bleeding internally or something else awful and not telling us again? Because you don’t look so good, little buddy.”

“No. I’m just sick of all this bullshit," Five snapped, but his normal bite had no bark. "It never stops, and I’m just fucking tired. And don’t call me little buddy ever again unless you want me to strangle you.”

“Okaaay,” Klaus skeptically replied. “Will you eat something?” he asked, offering Five the pile of crackers in his hand. “I can’t remember the last time I saw you eat anything.

Hearing the worry in his voice, Five weakly reached out and took one cracker, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat it. He was too sick to do anything anymore. His body was shuddering and even just the mentioning of food was bringing back memories of burning human flesh and it was leaving a sickening taste of bitterness on his tongue to add to sour taste of failure that was already there.

Five’s revulsion and anger didn’t help the concerned look on Klaus’s face from growing.

“Five, I didn’t mean that stuff I was saying. You know me, I have a big mouth.”

“I know,” Five muttered. He knew Klaus meant it, because it was all true. Klaus just didn’t mean for him to hear it.

“I’m sorry,” Klaus begged.

When Five didn’t say anything, Klaus set the water down on the rickety nightstand.

Wordlessly, he rolled back the bedding and urged Five to roll under it. When he noticed the gun stuffed down the back of Five’s little shorts, Klaus took that too, placing it on the bedside table.

Five didn't have the strength to fight him. Instead, he desperately bundled up under the comforter. Laying there, falling apart as he listened to Klaus get up, a moment later, he felt the bed frame wiggle, then more blankets from the upper bunk fell over him.

“Just try to get some rest, man.” With that, Klaus shut the dingy curtains, blocking out the light and the noise of the city, then the door clicked shut.

Alone and glad not to have his brother looking at him still like he was a puppy that just got smoked by a car, unfortunately the pounding in Five’s head grew worse. When he closed his eyes, the room kept spinning like when he drank too much.

Klaus’s voice in the hall as he talked to who Five assumed was one of his siblings, eventually trailed off.

Five’s mind was as shattered and the phantom pains taking over his body had him to the point that he couldn’t fend off the exhaustion anymore. As the nightmare he was living mixed with the nightmares of his past and his heart sank even more, it hit him that his family didn’t need or want him anymore.

They never did.

With that thought in mind, everything slipped away in the darkness of his dreams.

The inside of his tiny hotel room, everything disappeared as Five lay there, finally at rest but not at all at peace.

Twisting in the blankets, Five’s sore and horribly split feet crunched along on a debris filled road in his boots that were a size too small.

The gloom of an apocalyptic horizon was all he could see for miles and miles.

His insides danced in a flurry of nerves, but there he was, almost certain there wasn’t a trace of fever this time. He hadn't eaten anything that had gone bad.

He didn't know.

He stood, facing yet another burnt building, flinching at the familiar sight of a charred body. His insides clenched from starvation even as the sight of it made him sicker.

That smell…

The smell of burnt flesh, and rot.

His mouth watered. Then he gagged.

He couldn’t…

Never that.

It had been more days than Five could count since he had put anything in his mouth that resembled food. The few canned goods he was able to find in the ruins of a grocery store months ago were long gone. If he was going to find anything salvageable, he was going to have to start digging deeper through the mountainous piles of rubble, but he had almost no strength to do it.

He was so weak. He could feel his own bones rubbing painfully against the tightly notched belt at his waist. He was starving to death, and the fear that he was never going to get out of that place was consuming him as much as his own body was consuming itself.

He felt the ground against his cheek before he even realized he had collapsed.

Then it all went dark.

When he woke, it was gloomier. The usual ominous red in the sky had grown slightly more prominent on the horizon, the only indicator that there was sun still at all. He gingerly pulled himself up to a sitting position, trying to gather his bearings.

It was almost night.

His head hurt more than before. He raised his hand and fingers slowly, inspecting a patch of dried blood at his temple.

“Passed out. Again…” he said, his mouth so dry he could hardly form the words.

He took a deep breath, looking around. His wagon with his meager finds was still only a few feet away.

Dolores looked back at him kindly. ‘It’s not like I can move on my own silly,’ she said, sweetly as she could.

In his head, she sounded like Grace.

Just that alone helped, even if it was in the smallest way possible. Five would never forget the only mother he had and her caring for him when no one else did. Even if she wasn’t a real living thing and she had no choice and didn’t really love him because a robot couldn't love, at least Five could say he had something. Something awful but good?

With Dolores, she was trying to make light of their dire situation. For years, since she’d become something real to him, Dolores had always tried to make Five smile no matter how bad things were.

Wanting to reassure her, Five managed to pull off a weak version of a smile, but only because he knew she was so worried about him.

Pain digging at his insides, Five knew that if he didn't find food and water of some kind, there was little time left and his body would shut down completely. He needed to move, or he was going to die.

Drumming up all the strength he had left, Five staggered to his feet on wobbly, bone thin legs.

“I’ll be back,” he said to Dolores. There was no need to explain that he wasn’t strong enough to pull the wagon or carry her with him. She already knew.

He stumbled along, doing his best not to fall over the broken world in his path. There had to be something left. He was certain when he had come that way two days before, that at one time, this had been a bustling neighborhood, filled with large homes and massive stores. Now it looked pretty much like everything else, and he had yet to find anything.

He walked on. Eventually his eyes grew too tired to survey the landscape, and instead they fell to his feet, but he kept moving.

After walking like that for an undetermined amount of time, Five looked up and realized there was an indication of a partial structure still standing up ahead.

He moved as fast as he could towards it.

It had to have something!

As he moved closer, he could make out signs that it had been a store of some sort.

Oh my God thank you!

Scrambling over the broken walls, avoiding the deathly glass blades still sticking out of the rubble, Five came across what he needed. Canned food, not destroyed, or having exploded or leaked out on the parched earth.

He fell on his knees, immediately tearing through his pack, looking for an opener.

He didn't care what it was, the labels were burned and unreadable if they even had any. He attacked the metal, hardly getting it open before he was desperately sucking the liquid out.

After a minute or two of that, he had forethought to open the can all the way, but his patience wasn’t much better as he dumped the slippery substance down his throat, hardly even taking the time to chew.

It was mistake.

Five lurched forwards, his stomach seizing in pain as his prize splattered to the ground.

“Fuck.” He gasped for air, fighting the sensation of sickness as each wave racked his body.

It had been too long. He wasn’t used to eating that much at once.

“You can’t be so fucking stupid!” he angrily yelled, his voice echoing in the nothing around him.

Five knew he couldn’t afford these kinds of mistakes, yet he kept making them.

He slid back on his butt, moving along the dirt, away from his mess. He fell back against a large piece of cement, thankfully avoiding the sharp rebar sticking out of it. All it would take was one small infection from a cut and he would be gone. He was too weak already.

He looked up at the sky, fighting tears…tears and precious fluid he couldn’t afford to lose.

“Just breathe, breathe…in and out…” he repeated. Gritting his teeth, air moving through his nose much too fast.

He couldn’t stop. He was spiraling.

His mind screamed at him because he could no longer speak. There is no place for this here!

With a deep breath, and then another, the darkness folding in around him eventually withdrew. Five reached over and took the can again. Slowly this time, he pinched a piece of what looked like some type of fruit and brought it to his cracked lips. This time he needed to make sure it stayed in. He let it roll in his mouth as he savored the flavor. It wasn’t ash or flesh and that was all that mattered.

After keeping that in, he kept going, very carefully. He had to stop before he finished a third of the can. Then he closed his eyes. Drained, Five fell asleep, not waking until the world around him was completely dark.

Dolores would be worried. She would be scared, but he couldn’t get back to her like that.

But he would.

He had to get back.

Even though he couldn’t see what he was doing, Five kept trying to finish the can. Eventually he did, even licking every last drop off his filthy, ragged fingers.

“You can’t die here. You can’t do that to them,” he scolded himself.

Finally regaining his senses as he started to wake up, blinking rapidly, Five looked out from under his massive pile of blankets. The room was dim, but the bright light shining in from the crack along the edge of the ugly curtains and the birds chirping outside proved it was morning.

Last, he could recall, it was late afternoon.

Or was it…?

He didn’t know anymore.

Five felt so disoriented while trying to remember what happened. After laying there for probably ten minutes or more, he finally noticed Klaus sitting next to him with a very worried look on his face. Five immediately tried to sit up, but just as fast, he collapsed back into the bed, feeling everything from the sheets to his clothes completely soaked through.

He was still dressed in his academy uniform, minus the ugly bowling shoes. His soiled dress shirt was clinging to his sweaty frame. He had no idea where he was or what timeline it was anymore.

Every bone in his body shook and quivered. Fire felt like it ran through his veins, but his outer core was frozen. The only thing that felt warm was the flood of fresh tears that had rolled down onto his damp pillow.

Seeing his normally put together brother crumbling proved to be enough for Klaus to lean over, hesitantly coming closer.

He raised his arm, resting the back of his hand against Five’s forehead. Five’s jaw set even tighter as Klaus said, “This is not good. You’re burning up.”

His words came out unevenly through chattering teeth as Five asked, “Where am I?”

Klaus’s brows furrowed. “The hotel.” He paused and shook his head apologetically. “Remember? Dad not being all that thrilled to see his long-lost children again, and then the new and improved Sparrows doing their best to kill us?”

Five let his body fall back on his damp pillow.

“We all came back here afterward,” Klaus explained.

It should have given Five some sense of relief to hear that, but it didn’t.

Five shook his head.

“Five, you don’t need to worry. This place is safe. You can take all the time you need. If you feel well enough, maybe you can get cleaned up, maybe eat a little something?”

“I’m fine.”

Fear struck Klaus him even harder, his eyes widening. “No, you are not.”

“Yes, I am.” Five sat up and flung the blankets off, immediately regretting it. The cold air sliced into him, making him shake even harder. He tried climbing off the mattress, only to have his legs give out. Klaus was quick to react, catching him before he toppled into the nightstand.

“Five, you look like shit,” he murmured, flinching a little as it looked like Five might deck him if he could.

“Thanks, everyone keeps pointing that out. I get it. You don’t need to keep reminding me,” Five said in between labored breaths as he lowered his guard and sat back down.

“I can tell you are hell bent on something, Five, but you will be lucky to make it out of this room right now,” Klaus argued, as he smiled.

Five let out a frustrated growl, wiping his face, his fingers looking like he was trying to dig his eyes out as he looked back up at Klaus in defeat. “Help me then.”

“I will. Just lay back down, I’m going to get you something to eat. Just stay here, ok?”

“Ok,” Five replied, pushing back into the mountain of blankets. Klaus looked so relieved. “I’ll be right back.”

He scurried out of the room. Even swaddled tightly, Five could hardly repress his trembling body from full-on convulsing.

He was having a fever. That partly explained why he felt like shit. He knew that but why didn’t he know the rest until Klaus told him?

All at once, he remembered his dream, or better yet, his nightmare based on a very real memory.

He shut his eyes and tried to forget.

He couldn't. He never would.

“Why was this happening to me?” he whispered, his voice cracking.

Five did his best to force them not to, but a stream of more warm tears ran down his face anyway.

His fingers slid under his shirt, over his clammy skin. He searched once again for the torn flesh from my phantom bullet holes but found nothing.

It hurt like a bitch anyway.

Klaus startled him when he came back in, rushing over to set a tray filled with all sorts of things on the nightstand. After that, Five kept his head buried in the blankets as he discreetly swiped away the beads of sweat dampening his forehead, desperate not to show even more evidence of his breakdown.

“There should be something on here that you will like. The buffet here is the best.” Klaus said encouragingly as he tried to bring a cup of juice with a straw to Five’s lips.

“I can do it, I'm not a helpless child,” Five said, blindly taking it from him.

As Five peeked at him through a hole in the blankets, Klaus looked slightly hurt, but he quickly tried to hide it, instead, going about the room, picking up dirty clothes that looked like they belonged to both him and Diego and seeing it all laying there, Five had no idea why.

Had they both stayed with me?

Had everyone come in here?

“I’m going to go out and give you some space. If you need anything, just call.” Klaus smiled, then turned to go but quickly spun back. “Oh, I put some fresh clothes I rummaged up over there. They should work in case you want them,” he offered, pointing to the nearly baren room’s only dresser. “There’s a bathroom down the hall that you can shower up in. It’s a shared sort of situation in there.” He laughed. “Very classy old-school here at the Obsidian.”

“Thank you, Klaus. I am fine. Despite what you see, I can take care of myself,” Five assured, attempting to sound like his self-assured normal, all so he didn’t look so damn pathetic, but then as he tried to sit up again, his vision spun, and he ended up slouching on the pillows instead.

Klaus wasn’t buying it. He quickly came back over, taking the cup from his brother’s hand before it spilled. “I’m staying,” he said, as he parked himself in the torn dressing chair that he already had pulled up next to the side of Five’s bed.

After that, Five hazily remembered talking with Klaus while he helped him eat. Then he knew that he must have dozed off again, because when he awoke, the room was dark, and he was alone.

His burning fever had let up. He felt considerably better than before. He rolled over towards the faint light coming from a lamp on the dresser. Through the curtains, he could make out the faintest lights sparkling in the cityscape.

He’d slept the entire day. The clock on the old nightstand said nine-thirty.

Five heaved the mountain of blankets back, pulling his legs around to the side of the bed. His empty tray was still where Klaus had left it. He had stayed long after Five finished every last bit of food, and Klaus pretended to be resting after that as he tried to sprawl out in his tiny chair, but Five knew he was just staying to make sure he was ok. He was so scared to take his eyes off of him that he didn’t even get up on the top bunk.

Thankfully he didn’t, Five thought. If he had, the whole thing may have come crashing down on him.

“What a shithole,” Five breathed.

Five wasn’t going to admit it, but Klaus at least found somewhere for them to go when he’d had no helpful suggestions. And knowing Klaus was there with him when he was so out of it was probably half the reason he was able to let go and rest again, otherwise, with the little energy the food had given him, he probably would have laid there not letting his guard down as he ruminated on the endless supply of nightmares, he feared were waiting for him.

Further surveying the room, Five noticed there was not much to it, and he remembered Klaus saying the bathroom was down the hall. Trying out his legs, he was happy to find out they weren’t nearly as weak as before.

He made his way across the room, and sure as he promised, Klaus had laid out what appeared to be some very fitting old guy clothes, weird multipocketed fishing style jacket, and plaid fedora included. Holding them up, the pants and shirts looked like they would fit him, and at the moment, Five didn’t care whose clothes Klaus had stolen for him.

Nothing in him wanted to join them, but knowing at some point he had to, and that he needed to clean up, Five sighed. Breathing in, he realized that he smelled horrendous.

He stole a quick look in the dressing mirror and got confirmation; yup, he still looked like shit smeared with shit.

Once inside the large community bathroom that was thankfully yet oddly empty, behind the dressing curtain of one of the showers, Five worked off his soiled clothes, throwing them in a heap.

He couldn’t remember the last time had time for a proper shower. It hadn’t been in this scrawny pubescent body, that was for sure. He had been wearing most of the same clothes he had on when in the 60’s, he’d gotten tricked into taking out the board of directors.

Sickened all over again as vision of their terrified faces slitting open under the blade of his ax, it dawned on Five that not all the blood and grime on him was from the fight at Sissy’s farm.

He was disgusting and his clothes needed to be burned.

In a daze, Five reached in the shower and after several attempts, he managed to get the water hot enough. After that, he stepped inside the spray and completely zoned out.

He didn’t know how long he’d been in there. Well after the shampoo and suds were gone, he stood there, letting the hot water cascade down his face, as if he could somehow wash away his sins and the events of the last two weeks.

Once again, his ignorance had put all of them one step closer to fucking everything up.

Five felt so empty, so worthless.

His dizzying array of questions and self-loathing were cut short when he closed his eyes. In the darkness that surrounded him, the steam of the shower that had felt so soothing on second, suddenly seemed to be smothering him.

He couldn’t breathe!

All he could see was the smoke and ash, feeling the scorching heat against his back and the crumbling cement under his hands as he tore through the ruins trying to unbury his family.

It was too late…

They were already gone but Five didn't care. He wanted them back so fucking badly.

He wanted to be back with them. But he wasn’t. Not really. They were right.

His eyes flew back open, panic arresting all his senses. The limited space of the tub closed in all around him. His chest heaved as he tried to take in air, and his abdomen throbbed even though the wounds that his mind told him were covering it weren’t even there. The pain sent him crumpling to the ground as he tore the shower curtain open and stumbled out. He barely managed to fasten a towel around himself before he fell to the floor, failing to stifle a loud sob.

Someone called out, their voice echoing through the silence of the large bathing area outside the dressing curtain, but Five couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even move. He curled over and began sinking to the floor when he heard something pop.

Bullets popping off in a barrage of gunfire filled his ears as his eyes darted around the small shower stall.

“Fuck, fuck, Fuck, FUCK!” he panted, hyperventilating.

Five’s breathing was nothing more than insufficient gasps as shoes like bullets clipped quickly in his direction.

Please stop, just make it stop!

His low line blurred vision had him seeing a pair of knees, and feet, but he quickly recognized the unlaced combat boots, and that gave him some hope of escaping his waking nightmare.

Klaus suddenly pushed the curtain out of his way and helped Five up so he could sit on the edge of the dressing stool, then he knelt in front of Five, his eyes running over his almost completely exposed body. “Just breathe, Five. What happened?” he asked, his voice sounding so scared that it only scared Five even more.

Forcing himself to look up at his brother, the air was still too suffocating in there for Five to think. He tried to say as much but found himself instead stumbling out of the shower. The immediate drop in temperature between the small mildew filled coffin trying trap him and the grand vaulted ceiling of the bath area was a blessing, but it still wasn’t enough.

Five staggered over to the doors leading out in a desperate attempt to escape, and on his tail, Klaus caught him just as he blinked.

“Five, what are you doing?” Klaus cried out, clinging to Five’s damp arm as they both fell out of his portal onto the roof, but not answering, like a wild animal, Five wrestled out of his hold and bolted.

Almost fully naked and totally out of his mind, Five didn’t make it farther than the edge of the building, stopping at the sight of the six-floor drop. It hit him like a slap in the face.

Wheezing he pulled in breath after breath of the cool night air. The wind was strong, whipping Five’s dark wet hair in his face. The feel of it chilled his entire body even more. The sounds of the horns honking in the traffic were like voices yelling at him, slowly helping to ground him in the now.

It was letting go, the pain…all of it. All the death, but every time Five so much as blinked his eyes, all he could see was concrete, rot, and ash and blood.

The painful toll of reliving this was becoming more and more evident each day. Five knew his mind was slipping away from him, but he didn’t know what to do to stop it. The visions were happening more and more often. His family wasn’t wrong.

He wasn’t okay.

From behind, Klaus carefully reached out, but Five suddenly cowered. Out of instinct, he raised his small arms, readying for a fight.

Looking from his balled-up fists, then back at his brother, Five was even more disgusted with himself.

He sobbed, dignity be damned, letting his body slowly sink to the black tar slicked roof under his bare feet.

A warm embrace suddenly cradled around him despite his sopping wet frame. “You’re okay. You’re not alone. It’s ok…” Klaus soothed.

He was right. The moment his brother’s arms held him, the pain in Five’s chest let up some, and so did the visions. But no matter how good it felt to have someone caring enough to touch him like that, Five couldn’t stop shaking his head. He couldn’t stop sobbing.

“You’re okay. Just breath, keep breathing, man. Slow and steady…”

Five choked in the air as he tried to pull it in slower, forcing myself to calm down and come back all the way.

He squeezed his eyes shut and flashes of cement and ash and broken bodies flew before his eyes, wooden planks smeared with Diego’s blood as Lila she looked at the Handler, seconds away from her heartbroken eyes becoming as blank as the rest. All of it was making an almost blind panic seize Five all over again.

“Everyone’s gone,” he sobbed. “I fucked up…I got you all killed. I got you all killed again!” His whole body shook, and Klaus wrapped himself around him tighter.

"How-" Klaus started but Five interrupted.

"I turned it back."

"What?"

"Time!" Five shouted as his small body rocked and Klaus rocked with him. "I turned it back to stop it from happening," Five whispered, burying his face against his arms.

"You had to save us again? God, Five... I am so sorry," Klaus breathed, his chin resting in the wet matt of hair on the back of his brother's head.

Five said nothing.

“Look,” Klaus said, “Open your eyes. I’m here, we are all here. It’s ok. Just keep breathing, it will stop. You’re having a panic attack. Just keep breathing slowly. Everything is going to be ok.” His voice came in waves and he kept repeating it, working it into Five’s mind the guiding light of love he needed more than anything and had for so long.

Five opened his eyes, seeing his long white toes lined up next to his brother’s big boots as their legs stretched out in front of them. Slowly Five turned his head to face Klaus just a little. “Thank you,” he quietly breathed, squeezing his hand tight, scared of letting it go when normally he was scared of being touched at all.

“You’re safe. I’ve got you this time. We all do,” Klaus whispered. “Just keep breathing… Stay with us, Five.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, there it is. For those that have read my first series, some of this might have seemed familiar. As I said, I have written so many things with Five breaking down and his family being there for him in ways they never were on the show, so I borrowed a little of the dream and his shower break down from things that happened in part three of that story, but hopefully this season 3 adaptation I changed it into worked for you.

I know I sure could have seen this version happening to Five, especially since right before landing in the Sparrows house when he had the shit beat out of him by Lila, frying pan to the head and all, right before a chimney crushed him and then he was shot by the Handler and had to reverse time. He never even told his family he did that as far as how the show went down. So... yeah. Five deserved more and thank you for asking for it.

Link to my Tumblr story and art posts

Link to my Master List

Link to visit me on A03

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schrijverr · 2 days

Text

I Didn’t Mean to Say I Do, but I Do. I Do. 5

Chapter 5 out of 50

Secret marriage of convenience buddie slow burn AU, where Buck and Eddie have been married for years so Buck could adopt Chris and no one at the 118 knows.

In this chapter, Eddie and Evan decide to get married, so Eddie can go off to war. Evan has to deal with being a parent alone, with Helena judging his parenting. Not to mention Eddie getting send back injured.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie (slowburn)

Warnings: ableism, emotionally abusive parents, insecurity, homophobia

~~~

Chapter 5: Mr. & Mr. Convenience

They’ve run over the numbers an unholy amount of times. If Evan’s senior year math teacher saw him now, she’d have a surprised induced medical emergency with the amount of calculations he’s done. No matter how they count, Eddie is right. He’s going to have to re-enlist.

When the reality sinks in, Evan feels a fear grip his throat and softly he asks: “What’s going to happen to me and Chris if you do? You know your mom is never going to let me stay with him.”

A part of him thinks, this is it. I have finally overstayed my welcome and Eddie is going to leave to fight a war and Chris will go to his grandparents and I am no longer useful. It hurts, these past few years have been hard, but they’ve been so good too. He doesn’t want to lose the best family he has ever had over medical bills, but it seems like that will be his life.

Before his thoughts can spiral into anything more depressing, Eddie says: “They can’t do shit if you’re his legal guardian. We can do paperwork about that, right?”

“You want me to adopt Chris?” Evan has to check, because that can’t be right. This is the part where people leave, not where people pull him closer.

“Do you- do you not want to? I mean, you don’t have to, I get-” Eddie stutters, suddenly realizing just what he is asking Evan to do. He has already done so much, it keeps surprising him every day that he is still here.

“Of course I want to,” Evan cuts him off. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

“Evan, you’re basically his other dad. This will only make it official,” Eddie tells him as seriously and heartfelt as he can. He still isn’t great at emotions, but for Evan, for his family, he’s willing to try.

“Thank you,” Evan says, hugging him close, despite the awkward angle and the table digging into both their stomachs.

“No, thank you,” Eddie replies, glad that Evan starts crying so he doesn’t have to explain his own moist eyes.

He leaves Evan to go on a research binge about how to best tackle this, while he sits back, mentally trying to process what re-enlisting will mean. He’s going to have to say goodbye to Chris again. It seems even more difficult than it had been the first time around. They’re going to have to let his parents help again too.

As much as Eddie wishes he could, he knows Evan can’t take care of Chris by himself when he is gone. He is already doing way too much by trying. But Eddie is sure that if he lets Chris go to his parents now, he’ll never get him back. He can’t allow that to happen.

That helpless frustrated feeling is back and Eddie hates it. He needs to move. He wants to run away, but that isn’t possible. So, he makes a pot of coffee instead, it is already a late night and it’ll probably become a later one. He is used to it, but Evan is going to need the caffeine.

His own coffee is black, but Evan takes his with two sugars and way too much milk. Eddie thinks it is not how coffee is supposed to be drunk. No one likes the bitter taste, you just have to get used to it. However, he makes Evan his version of coffee without complaint.

When the coffee is done, he puts Evan’s mug next to him, taking a sip of his own as he leans his hand on the table, taking his place behind Evan’s chair to look over his shoulder to see what he’s doing, though not actually reading anything as he asks: “So, what did you find?”

Evan rubs his face with his hands as he takes a break from staring at the screen. He says: “All of them take a long time, too long for the timeline we’re working on with those bills. Unless you want to get married.”

Eddie can admit later that he chokes on the sip of coffee. However, he recovers in record time and actually thinks about it. He and Evan are a lot like a married couple when he thinks about it. They live together, raise a kid together, even sleep in the same bed (albeit practically never at the same time). He’s not gay and Evan has never mentioned being gay either, but you don’t have to be in love to be married. His marriage with Shannon wasn’t entirely out of pure love either. It’ll just be for convenience.

“Alright,” he says after a beat. “Let’s get married.”

“What? Are you serious?” Evan exclaims, giving Eddie wide eyes. He won’t mind being married to Eddie, even if it’s just so he can adopt Chris, but he never thought Mr. Toxic Masculinity Was My Childhood would go for it.

“Yeah, it’s legal right? And it’s the easiest. They don’t actually check if you fuck when you get married and take it from me, being divorced isn’t the end of the world either,” Eddie tells him.

A little feeling that Evan has been refusing to name feels a little crushed at the word ‘divorce’, but he doesn’t let it get to him. They’re friend. Best friends. And co-parents. He would withstand a lot for Chris, and it isn’t exactly a hardship to be married to Eddie. So he says: “Okay. Yeah. Sure. Let’s get married.”

“Cool,” Eddie smiles at him.

“Really? Cool?” Evan guffaws, playing it up to make Eddie laugh. “I don’t know if I’ll marry someone if their proposal consists of ‘cool,’ I’ll have you know.”

Eddie does, in fact, laugh, before dramatically dropping on one knee and saying: “Evan will you do me the honor of giving me tax benefits and parenting breaks.”

“You’re a fucking dork,” Evan informs him gleefully, though he’s unable to stop himself from blushing either.

“Is that an I do?” Eddie asks, leaning in and suddenly much closer than he has ever been.

Evan feels a little breathless as he nods: “Yeah, I- I guess it was.”

“Great,” Eddie smiles, then pulls back as he gets back up, groaning as he does so.

“You’re twenty-four, not eighty,” Evan rolls his eyes.

“Shut up,” Eddie retorts. “We should go to bed. We have a wedding to plan in the morning.”

He starts putting everything away and Evan follows suit in their familiar dance of doing the picking up. “We’re not actually going to plan a wedding, right? Or do you have your sights set on Chris being the ring bearer or something?”

“As adorable as that would be, we’re not actually going to plan a wedding. Do you have any idea how expensive those are?”

Evan doesn’t know how to feel about that exactly, but he lets it go for now. They get ready for bed together and get in. They’ve been sharing the bed for a long time now, but it’s feel weirdly different to lie next to each other now. Technically engaged.

After a few moments of them lying side by side staring at the ceiling, Eddie softly says: “You don’t have to, you know that right? It’s not as if my parents can come snatch him out of your hands.”

“I want to have the legal backing if I’m going to try and pick him up from Helena’s house after she babysits. I don’t think a kidnapping charge would look good on my record.”

“I know, I’m just saying that I won’t be mad if you change your mind or-”

“Shut up,” Evan hits him with his pillow, earning a squawk. “I want to, I’m going to. Now sleep, I have work in the morning.”

And that’s that.

They call the same lawyer that did Eddie’s divorce in the morning and Eddie goes over to get a prenup made, not wanting a repeat of having to sort everything like he had to do with Shannon, because this is just for now. This isn’t going to be permanent, at some point Evan is going to find someone he loves and marry her. Eddie doesn’t know why that thought stings.

He also gets the adoption paperwork ready for when they come over after their wedding. Doing that doesn’t leave the same weird feeling in his stomach, he just takes it to mean he’s making the right choice, letting Evan into his life more. If that’s even possible.

A week later they’re at a courthouse with only Chris as their witness. Both are unreasonably nervous and the press of lips feels weird, but also not. Neither can look the other in the eyes afterwards.

The people who work there take some pictures of them and it’s so ridiculous that it breaks the tension. The two of them, along with Chris, do some weird poses and they’re pretty happy with their wedding day photos, even if they’ll probably get stuffed in a drawer somewhere and then forgotten.

Neither of them think anything will really change, they tied the knot because it is convenient, not because they want to be married. It’s just the best solution they have for now.

This assumption is proven to be incorrect when they eat dinner the first day after they got married when Chris asks: “Did you have a good day, papi?”

Eddie startles a little and sends Evan a look to see if he knows what’s happening, because Eddie has always been daddy. By the looks of it, Evan is just as confused as he is. Eddie turns back to Chris and says: “It was good, mijo.”

“No, silly, not you,” Chris giggles. He is going through a phase where he likes the word silly, he thinks it sounds, you know, silly.

“Me?” Evan asks, eyes wide as he points at himself.

“Uh-huh,” Chris nods. “I told Ms. Jane you are married. She says you’re my daddy too. But daddy is already daddy.”

That makes a surprising amount of sense, but as much as Evan would adore being referred to as his dad by Chris, he doesn’t want the kid to do anything he doesn’t want to. “You don’t have to call me anything you don’t want to Chris. Not because Ms. Jane told you so.”

Eddie surprises him by adding: “But you are allowed to if you want to. You’re right. Evan is your other daddy.”

He meets Evan’s eyes when he says the last part, trying to imprint it onto him that he means it. If there is one thing he knows about Evan, it’s that he can be insecure. Like, they’re married and he’s still worried about overstepping.

Chris is quiet for a second, thinking, then he smiles: “Okay. I’m going to.” Before asking again: “So, did you have a good day, papi?”

“I did,” Evan smiles, thrilled at the development and endeared that Chris is asking him. He always asks the same when he comes home and it seems Chris has picked up on the habit.

Another thing that changes, is their relationship with Eddie’s parents. Evan doesn’t go with him to tell them he re-enlisted and Evan is taking care of Chris while he is away on tour. The news is not well received. Evan will swear he heard the yelling all the way back home.

When Eddie comes back, he looks about ten years older and Evan cautiously asks: “So, how did that go?”

“Well, let’s see,” Eddie sighs, rubbing his face, before ticking off on his hand. “If this were a real relationship, they’d never support it. They can’t believe I’d go this far to keep their grandchild from them. I’m a horrible father for leaving Chris. Again. Especially because I’m leaving him with you. But they are willing to work with us, for Chris’s sake.”

“That… That is a lot,” Evan says, processing what Eddie has just said.

“Yeah, it is.” Eddie throws himself on the couch next to him. “And I don’t trust their motives either, but it’s not like we have a choice.”

“No, we don’t,” Evan sighs, also slumping into the couch. “Beer?”

“Please.”

The Diaz parents knowing also has another side effect of their business being spread all over town, which half-helps against homophobes, because Ramon makes it very clear that his son is being a rebellious kid, who is making idiotic decisions and Evan is the queer villain, who is tricking their son and stealing their grandchild.

Not ideal rumors to have going around, but Evan has a lot of practice not letting things get to him and Chris is too happy of a presence and sadly also too used to whispers following him.

The whispers get worse when Eddie actually leaves, but Evan never tells him. He has enough to worry about in a war zone, he doesn’t need to deal with Evan’s hurt feelings. Unless they get to Chris, it’s not important.

God, Chris. Telling him daddy had to leave again is one of the hardest things either of them have ever had to do.

He screams and cries and refuses to let either of them go for days. Evan thinks he’ll never be able to forget Chris wailing: “No, daddy, no! You can’t go, because you come back, but then papi will leave, I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want either of you to leave.”

Evan hugs Chis close and promises: “Papi is never gonna go, sweetheart. I’m not going to leave you, even when daddy comes back. And he’s going to come, it’s not forever. And I’m going to be right here. Always. Okay? I promise.”

It’s the first time he ever referred to himself as papi, but he doesn’t even get to panic about it, too busy making sure Chris is okay. He teaches him the secret of the pinky promise, trying to ignore how Maddie didn’t keep her pinky promise to him. He vows that Chris will never have to learn that pinky promises are as meaningless as the normal ones.

When Eddie leaves, it is hard all over again. Evan and Chris drive him to the airport, Eddie in the backseat with Chris so they can cling to each other for as long as possible. Evan watches them fondly through the rear view mirror, heart aching and heavy, despite the fondness it is filled with.

He is about as ready as Chris is to drop Eddie off. He knows it’s for the best, did the math himself, then had someone more competent do the math as well. He would’ve offered to go instead in a heartbeat, but Eddie never would have let him. Evan knows he’s doing better for Chris, but sometimes it is so clear that he needs to be the man of the house. Needs to provide. So, here Evan is, having to let him go.

Evan doesn’t feel ready for it, but he supposes no parent feels ready to do it by themselves.

He’s seen how Shannon wasn’t ready and crumbled under it, seen the panic in Eddie’s eyes the day he realized he’d have to do it alone. He made sure Eddie never had to do it alone, but here he is and he is hoping with all he has that he’s not going to crumble like Shannon did. Chris won’t survive it if he does and he can’t do that to him. So he prays a little, even though he doesn’t really believe.

They park the car at the airport and Evan gets out alongside the others. Eddie unbuckles Chris, while Evan goes to grab his bags. Chris happily lets daddy carry him as far as he can, then tries to hold on for longer, hoping that if he can make him miss the flight, he won’t leave them.

It’s almost more heartbreaking than telling Chris when Evan has to pry his little fingers from Eddie’s clothes as Eddie backs up far enough that Chris can’t grab him again.

He holds Chris in his arms while he cries, pretty sure Eddie is crying too as he backs away further into the airport, still waving and refusing to turn his back on them until he absolutely has to. Evan wants to cry as well, but he keeps himself as strong as he can. For Chris. So, he takes Chris’s hand in his own and makes it wave, hoping that’ll be enough of something to make up for departure (he knows it won’t, nothing ever will).

The two of them stand there until Eddie has long since disappeared into the crowd. Neither of them are ready to leave yet. It’s almost as if they stand there long enough, Eddie will return.

Usually, it’s Eddie who makes the difficult calls, since he is Chris’s actual dad, no matter what the paperwork might tell you, so he has the final say. But now Evan is the one that has to make all the decisions, including the hard ones. So, he is the one that has to walk away.

Chris starts crying again the second he does and Evan doesn’t think he’ll ever feel like a worse person than he does in that moment, carrying a protesting, quivering, crying Chris back to the car and away from his dad.

Without Eddie there, the house is quiet. They lived alongside each other more than with each other for most of the time, but Evan is missing the little pockets of time he used to fill with Eddie.

It feels weirdly empty.

Lonely.

Especially the first few weeks when Chris doesn’t speak unless he has to. Evan knows Chris misses the empty spaces Eddie leaves more than him and he doesn’t blame the kid for being upset. It just hammers home how unprepared he is for this, how much he can’t do this alone, how he’ll never measure up to Eddie as a presence in Chris’s life.

However, Eddie calls. Evan can’t always be there when it happens and he knows it isn’t the same as having him there, but it gets Chris out of his shell again.

Those first weeks he only talks to Eddie, then he slowly starts talking to Evan again. A few days later, he talks to his grandparents too, something he learns because a smug Helena informs him of it when he comes to pick up Chris.

She is going to use it as a reason she should keep Chris there longer, since he is obviously more comfortable there. She hadn’t been able to sway Eddie before he left, but she has been trying again with Evan from the second they came back from the airport.

But, Buckley stubbornness is nothing to sniff at, so he just smiles pleasantly and says: “Good to hear he’s opened up here too. He was already talking at home a few days ago, but for a second there it seemed me and Eddie were the only ones that were going to hear his voice, it’s nice that he’s coming back to himself. Settling in again.” And Buckley pettiness is also pretty strong.

Helena’s face drops at that, twisting into something displeased as she replies: “Yes, with his sensibilities, it’s good that he’s recovering from the shock Eddie put him through.”

Talking to Helena always leaves a sour taste in his mouth and the time he spends talking with her has increased considerably since Eddie left. He specifically doesn’t like how she undermines Eddie and babies Chris. It gets on his nerves. His two Diaz boys are capable and she doesn’t get to decide they aren’t.

It makes his blood boil and he wants to fight her every single time he comes to pick up Chris. But he doesn’t want Chris to grow up around arguing, and neither does Eddie. It’s one of the things that they agreed on when it came up during the late nights when Eddie opened up about everything. How Chris has been around enough arguing already.

So, he tries to bite his tongue and scrounges up some sympathy to extend to Shannon for putting up with it for three years. Though, when he reflects, he’s also getting to the three years. He met Chris when he was three and birthday number six is coming up. It’s crazy how his short stop in El Paso for some more travel money devolved so quickly. Not that he regrets a thing.

With strained politeness, he forces out: “Chris is a strong kid and Eddie is caring for him, he knows that. He just has to adjust. Now, we need to go.” A little louder he calls out: “You got your stuff, Superman?”

“Yes, papi,” Chris calls back and he sees how Helena’s face sours even more at that.

She doesn’t like that he lets Chris walk to the car by himself and she certainly doesn’t like that he calls Evan papi. If it were up to her, Evan would’ve never met Chris or Eddie. He should have disappeared right alongside Shannon and the fact that he didn’t is quite the affront to her. Evan tries not to care, he’s used to parents not wanting to have him around, he can take it.

As Chris makes his way to the car, she can’t help but comment: “Be careful Chris that is dangerous, let Evan carry you.”

“Do you want to be carried, Chris?” Evan asks, before she can continue or Chris can reply.

“No, I can do it,” Chris says.

Evan shoots her a look that says ‘what can you do?’ not being very apologetic or genuine about it as he says: “He can do it.”

He allows himself those little petty moments. To stay sane. He can do a lot by himself, but with his hours he can’t pick up Chris from kindergarten, so he has to rely on Helena – and Ramon when he is in town – to do it for him and watch him until he is let off.

It’s not optimal, but he makes do. Eddie trusts him with his kid, Eddie married him, so Chris would be taken care of. That is so far beyond what anyone has ever granted Evan and he refuses to let him down. Even if school gets tense around him being in Chris and Eddie’s life like that and they have to switch where Chris does his PT.

Chris blows out his six birthday candles on a video call with daddy, surrounded by strained family relations. It’s not much better than his fifth, which he spend crying because mommy didn’t come back to celebrate. Evan hopes his seventh birthday will be better.

Evan tries his best to make it a good birthday, he saved up to buy him some nice presents, plays nice with Helena and Ramon, and showers Chris with as much love and attention as he can, trying to make up for the two missing parents.

He forces on cheer the whole day, infusing the birthday with as much love and happiness as he can, then tucks Chris in bed at the end of the night, crawls into his own and cries.

He cries, because he doesn’t want to do this alone, he can’t give Chris the childhood he deserves and he doesn’t know why Eddie trusts him with it, because he’s incompetent Evan. The child his parents don’t want, the idiot who couldn’t finish college and traveled all over to escape his failure and the disappointment. Who accidentally tripped into the best thing that has ever happened to him and is now ruining it.

Chris is old enough that he’ll remember this period. He’s likely not going to know much from Shannon’s struggles, but he’ll remember Evan’s. He will remember how much Evan can’t measure up against all the other people that care for him, how he lets Chris call him papi even though he doesn’t deserve the title at all.

Evan is probably fucking Chris over for life and he can’t stop, can’t walk away, because the only thing he can imagine that is worse than being bad at raising Chris, is not raising Chris at all.

Still, the overwhelming feeling of being insufficient and being lonely presses down on him and he cries a little more, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. That night he wishes Eddie would be there with them again and he is pretty sure Chris wished the same when he blew out those candles.

He regrets making that wish a few months later when he picks up the phone to find a very official voice asking if he is speaking to Evan Buckley, husband of Eddie Diaz.

It’s still weird to hear that said out loud, despite being married for almost a year now, because no one around him acknowledges it really. Not that’s real, beyond the fact that it is real. So he stumbles for a moment as he says: “Y- yeah, uhm, yes, that’s me.”

“We’re calling you, because of an incident involving your husband,” the person on the other end informs him and his stomach just drops, the world collapsing in on itself.

No. No.

This can’t be the call. His legs are jello and his lungs aren’t working.

The voice continues on: “He was injured in this incident and has been transported to Germany to recover, once he is stable enough to make the journey, we’ll bring him home to you,” which brings some relief, because he’s not dead, but Evan’s world is still off kilter, because Eddie is injured.

Eddie is injured. Eddie is badly injured. He isn’t stable enough to come home. He could have died out there.

There is a buzzing in his ears and he is perceiving at the world as if he’s looking through a layer of water. Dazed he makes it through the rest of the conversation with the military person about the state Eddie is in and the logistics of getting him home and getting into contact with him. He retains it all, because it’s important, but it doesn’t feel real. He doesn’t want it to be real.

Evan feels entirely disconnected from his body, because yeah, Eddie is alive. Eddie is probably going to be okay. But for a second there, Eddie might not have been. For a second Evan thought he was getting a very, very different call.

And that scares the shit out of him.

That moment wherein Eddie wasn’t coming back, wherein Evan wasn’t just taking care of Chris by himself until Eddie came back, but had to do it alone for the rest of his life, that scares him.

He keeps telling himself it scares him, because Chris would have been devastated by the news that daddy is never coming home. That it’s not about Evan, but about the kid that is his son, because Evan is just the guy that Eddie married so he wouldn’t have to fight his parents. Because Eddie will come back from war, divorce him and try to find stability without him. That Evan only has a place in his life, because he’s useful to Chris.

But he is realizing now that it isn’t just Chris, who has been waiting for a loved one to come home, it’s Evan too.

It’s a horrible thing, to finally name that thing you’ve been ignoring as nothing but a small crush as love. To realize it’s much more than a fleeting thing, that you’re in love with his best friend while he’s injured and on the other side of the world and you’re at home watching his kid, married to him, but not together.

So, he collapses, lets himself cry and grieve a relationship that will probably never be, then pulls himself back together again. He can’t break down, he still has to tell Chris daddy got hurt.

A/N:

I am making up legalities for the fic, I do not actually know how to adopt a child easily and it can be wildly inaccurate, but I don’t care, bc it helps my plot xp

Also Chris would be hit harder with this additional third tour I’m giving Eddie, since he’s older and can process the leaving, especially after Shannon already left, so I’m hoping it’s not too out of character for people, since I do also love our resident sunshine boy :D

(in my mind he did a tour when Shannon was pregnant, then after she gave birth and now this one)

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