#the way i immediately turned off my tv and sobbed so loud by god this show....

[ladymortimer]

Finished my Bojack rewatch and everything is worse now

[only-angel-28]

1999 part three

another long one LMAO SORRY💀💀

this one’s a trip so get ur snacks, drinks and one direction pillows and blankets from 2014 because this one’s a trip🤭🤭

lmk how we feel abt this part and ur fav moments, enjoy!!

warnings: angst, blood, underage drinking, violence, swearing

1999, part one

1999, part two

1999, part four

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Conrads pov

in…out

in…out

in…….out.

I clench my hands into fists to stop them from shaking. I shut my eyes as tight as I can to stop the tears from flowing out.

in…out

in………out.

Calm down Conrad.

she’s upset, she’s tired. it’s fine.

no, it’s not, you did this to her, you’re the problem here. you made her cry. you might as well be like that guy she was with.

That guy.

Dean.

I slowly shut Y/n’s door behind me and race to my car, ignoring Mom and Laurel’s worried exclamations.

“Everything’s fine, she’s okay, she’s sleeping right now. I just- I need to do something. I’ll be back soon.” I assure them quickly before grabbing my car keys and making my way outside.

calm down Conrad.

the only person who could calm me down right now is Y/n. I smile softly as she enters my thoughts but that smile quickly drops as I think of how she was crying tonight.

Dean.

My hands clench the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white.

She wouldn’t want you to do anything.

But the way she was sobbing in my arms…

Fuck this.

I turn the ignition on and start reversing to the main road before my car even has a chance to warm up. I drive for what seems like seconds and go to the place where Jere told me he saw Dean last after I drove Y/n home.

It feels like my entire body and mind are on autopilot. I don't even realise what I'm doing before Dean opens Thérèse’s house’s door and my fist connects with his jaw. I don't realise how much anger I had in myself until he falls backwards and I don't give him a chance to get up. I keep punching him again, and again, and again. I don't stop until the blood from his nose is dripping to his white tee, until it's all disfigured and there's more bruises on his face than the hickeys on his neck.

“You ever lay your filthy hands on her again and I’ll make sure you wish you were never born asshole.”

I keep walking to my car as Dean and Thérèse scream threats back at me and flip them off as I get inside and drive back home.

I make it back home and immediately go to Y/n’s room to check if she’s asleep yet.

God, I'll never forgive myself for hurting her like that.

I gently cover her with the duvet on the end of her bed and kiss her softly on the top of her head.

When I make my way out of her room and quietly shut her door behind me walking to the living room, mom and laurel are already waiting for me. I don't say anything as they take me in their comforting arms and hold me. It feels like they're holding me up as my body racks with sobs, threatening to give out at any second.

“I just…I just didn't want to hurt her I didn't know what to do I-” My sentence gets broken off as another sob escapes me and Laurel kisses the top of my head. “I didn't know what to do after you got sick and it got worse I’m sorry I'm so-” I say to Mom struggling to breathe as she shushes me and wipes my tears away.

‘I’ll be okay Connie, I’ll be alright.” she whispers smiling softly but the tears in her eyes tell me otherwise.

They hold me, letting me cry for what feels like hours until their words of sweet nothings and assurances blur out and my eyes get heavy.

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Y/n’s pov

“No, it’s not Jere you don't need the cover that's just for decoration. No trust me I know Bels, I've seen Gordon Ramsey do this like a thousand times on tv.”

Stevens's earsplitting voice breaks me out of the trance of sleep.

How can he be this loud so early?

What time is it?

I pull the blanket off me and start making my way to the kitchen where all the voices seem to be coming from.

Wait…blanket? I don't remember putting one on after Conrad left.

My heart drops to my stomach as I think of him.

My thoughts spiral my mind starting to overwhelm me until Stevens's voice pushes them away. Thank God for his optimism.

“Alright you guys ready?” he says optimistically at the two unsure teenagers next to him, “Stop looking at me like that Jere. Okay, 3…2…..1!” he shouts as he presses ‘blend’ on the blender without a lid and just as he does, all the ingredients in the blender splatter all over the kitchen walls.

“STEVEN!”

“OH MY GOD MAN!”

Jere and Belly shout at Steven as he looks around in a worried state at the mess he's made in the kitchen.

“Hey, what are you guys doing?” I laugh as I take a seat at the kitchen island.

“We were trying to make my legendary miracle hangover smoothies but since Steve-o here wanted to be a masterchef so bad he can take over and clean while Belly and I do it properly.” Jeremiah says as he throws Steven a kitchen towel and starts getting more ingredients out to make the smoothie again.

Belly comes up behind me at the kitchen counter and hugs me tightly, “Hey, we heard about what happened with Dean. I’m so sorry, he was a rat anyways. And Thérèse too.”

“Yeah, totally he was a dick.” Jeremiah agrees as he hugs me after Belly. “You deserve better Y/n.”

“God, when Mom told us I was ready to break all this guy's bones for messing with my baby sister and I swear I would’ve if Conrad hadn’t already beat me to it.” Steven says as he bins a chunk of fruit.

I laugh until I fully process what he’s said, “Wait what? Conrad did what?” I exclaim as worry starts to creep up on me and I get off the stool to find Conrad.

“Oh yeah, you didn't know? He's in the living room!” Jere shouts after me and I mumble a ‘thanks’ in response, too distracted trying to find Conrad.

I find Conrad fast asleep on the couch with his hair in his eyes. I sit next to him and brush the hair away from his face. I notice his knuckles peeking out from under the throw and I pull it away to show the entirety of his cut up hands. I gasp as I see them and hold them immediately examining them closely to see how deep the cuts are.

“M’fine I swear. You should see the other guy.” A raspy voice interrupts my thoughts and I look up to see Conrad looking at me sleepily.

“You didn't have to do this Connie.” I say, upset that he hurt himself over me.

“What, you think I’m gonna let the guy who hurt my girl walk around all fine? Had to fuck him up a little at least.” he smiles with his eyes closed.

I blush at him calling me ‘his girl’ although the words make my chest feel heavier.

Why wasn’t I his girl before?

I push the anxious thoughts away as he speaks to me.

“I’m really sorry about yesterday Y/n, I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you after you broke up it was shitty I’m sorry.” he says regretfully.

“It’s okay Connie don't worry about that right now,” I smile at him, “how much do your hands hurt?”

“Not that much. I could use a kiss though.” he smiles playfully.

I laugh and peck his knuckles carefully. One, two, three, fou-

Conrad lets out a loud hiss and furrows his brows in pain. Worry runs through my entire body as I ask him if I hurt him frantically. He bursts out in laughter at my reaction and tries to get off the couch.

“Oh, you dick.” I say as I push him down the couch and smile to myself as I walk away.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Come back baby!” he shouts behind me in laughter.

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timeskip to the beach

“Whoo! Yeah, let’s go Jere!” Steven shouts as he pushes his wet hair out his face and grabs his surfboard, getting in the water again.

“STEVEN! PUT YOUR SUNSREEN ON!” I shout at him knowing it's pointless and he’s just going to ignore me and get sunburnt again. Every year, I smile to myself rubbing sunscreen on my arms.

I look out into the distance and see Belly trying to surf but drastically failing, Jeremiah trying to help her and Steven trying to get Jere to watch his ‘new cool trick’.

Poor Belly. She’ll never get a moment alone with Jere at this rate.

“You’re not going to surf?” Conrad says as he comes up next to me.

“I don’t know, I’m not really feeling like surfing today, might just sit here and read.” I say smiling up at him trying not to look down at his naked chest.

He nods and puts a cigarette in his mouth, reaching into his pocket to light it up.

“You’re gonna slowly kill your kidneys like that Con” I say as I look in disgust at the thing in his mouth.

He smiles down at me as he goes to light it up but stops and takes the cigarette out of his mouth before putting it back in his pocket. “Well good thing I only need one kidney to survive.”

“I’d prefer if you had two.”

He laughs at me before making his way to the waves with his board.

“CON!” I yell after him.

He turns back and looks at me questioningly as I hold up the sunscreen in my hand.

He trudges back to me complaining about the smell and slightly sticky feeling of it as I rub it all over his back and chest trying not to blush.

I make my way up his collarbones, to his neck and finish with his face. I brush his hair out his face before smiling and whispering saying, “There. All done.”

He stares down at my lips and I stare at his as we lean closer, my heart beat speeding up by the second. His hand comes up behind my neck inching our faces closer and closer-

“Hey Con you coming?!”

ugh. Steven.

Conrad and I break away quickly before Steven has a chance to see anything and I awkwardly pat him on the back. “Yep. All done.”

“Did I interrupt something?” Steven asks, sensing the tension around us.

“Nope. Not at all.” I smile at Steven and see Conrad glare at Steven out of the corner of my eye. If looks could kill…

I stifle a laugh as I see Belly giggling at the scene.

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timeskip to car

We’re driving home with “Keep Driving” playing on the radio and Conrad’s hand holding mine.

Holding each other's hands like this has been a habit of ours for years, it’s just a comfort thing.

“Hey have you guys heard about that party going down tonight at Emmy’s house?” Jere says looking at his phone from the backseat.

A couple of no’s are heard from almost everyone until Belly says, “Should we go?”

“We don’t really have anything better to do” shrugs Jeremiah.

“Alright then. It’s a plan.” Belly smiles before we all start screaming the bridge in ‘Keep Driving’.

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at the party

Conrad and I walk in together hand in hand and go to sit on one of the couches after meeting Emmy.

We talk for a bit until we decide to get some drinks in the kitchen. We’ve never really been “party people” unlike Jere, Steven and Belly, so Conrad and I always stuck together in these things. We’d just stand or sit in some corner (with a pet if there were any) and we’d talk about anything and everything while enjoying the free alcohol.

“Thank you my good sir.” I joke, accepting the drink Conrad gave me as we make our way back to our couch. “Hey you know what we should do?” I say enthusiastically smiling at him.

“Uh-oh. What?” he says taking a sip of his drink.

“We should get tattoos. You and me. Matching ones. Emmy’s cousins upstairs and she’s got a tattoo gun, Belly was telling me.” I grin.

“For real?” Conrad asks.

“Yes Connie, I mean we promised we’d get our first tattoos with each other when we were younger so why not right now?” I ask standing up and downing my drink, holding my hand out expectingly.

There’s a pause before Conrad says, “Our moms would kill us.”

“Who says they have to know?” I smile mischievously at him as he says “Fuck it.” and grabs my hand pulling me upstairs, our drinks and couch long forgotten.

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timeskip

“Holy shit this is badass!” I gasp as I see the two tiny ivy leaves on the side of my ribcage. “I’m so glad I wasn’t one of those people who cry when they get their tattoos.” I said to Conrad who was getting his matching leaves on his left shoulder. “Please, you didn’t cry but you sure as hell crushed my hand.” he says, shaking his hand around before I grab them and kiss them.

“I’m gonna go put a little lotion on this it’s starting to sting, will you be okay here?” I say to Conrad and go to the bathroom across the hall after he nods.

I put some lotion on the tattoo and immediately feel better until someone barges in.

Thérèse. Of course.

“Don’t you know how to knock?” I say, trying to turn away from her but she stops me.

“We need to talk Y/n.”

“Excuse me? No way Thérèse. No fucking way.” I say trying to open the door behind her but she’s too quick and locks it before standing in front.

“Thérèse what the fuck?!” I exclaim, starting to get mad now.

“Just hear me out. Give me five minutes to explain myself. Please Y/n.” she says and I can feel the guilt and regret seeping out of her.

I don’t want to hear a single word from her no matter what she has to say but if listening to hers my only way out of this bathroom then…

“Fine. Two minutes.” I say and immediately see the relief on her face.

“I want you to know how sorry I am. I got jealous of you and Dean like insanely jealous and I…I guess I just wanted to be with him and I didn’t think you were good enough for him and I know how stupid this sounds but I swear I’ve ended things with him and I just want our friendship back Y/n. I’m so sorry.” she says and when she finishes, she looks like she’s on the verge of tears.

I repress the small part of me that wants to take her back and be friends again out of pure respect for myself.

“I feel sorry for you Thérèse, I really do but no. I’m sorry but no, I don’t need shitty friends like you. If you liked Dean before we started dating you should’ve told me rather than making out with him and being a bitch to me when I saw you. Like I said the other night, you two assholes deserve each other. Now move.”

I’m walking back to the room Conrad was in trying to forget the interaction with Thérèse, trying to focus on just having fun with my friends and Con until a tall figure stands in my way.

No fucking way. What is everyone’s obsession with getting in my way tonight?

“Get the fuck away from me Dean.” I spit his name out.

“Babe I’m sorry, I fucked up please just-“ he tries to grab my hands and I immediately stomp on his feet.

“I said get the fuck away from me asshole!” I scream in his face before he stops wincing and quickly grabs me and pins me on the wall.

He looks at me with pure anger and possession in his eyes, scaring me to the bone.

What he says next has my fist flying straight into Dean’s jaw.

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Conrad’s pov

I step out of the room as soon as my tattoos done to show Y/n before I see her pinned against a wall by…Dean.

Anger rises in my body until I can’t think straight but before I can say a single word Y/n’s fist connects with Dean’s.

A chill runs down my spine and I swallow back the acid that crawls up my throat at her cry.

He tests his jaw, rubbing at the place she hit him. “You fucking…”

I see red as I lunge for Dean, but my attention shifts when Y/n lets out a whimper.

“Ow.” A single year runs down her face as she checks her fist.

I don't think as I jump into action. She hisses at me when I try to assess her hand, all while she swipes the tears off her face with her non-injured hand. Something definitely doesn't look right with her pinkie, and she winces as I lightly run my finger over it.

"That doesn't feel too good-" Y/n curses as she brushes her thumb across her knuckles.

"That's what you get for thinking you could lay a hand on me."

I swear this guy has a death wish.

"Oh, I'd like to lay more than a hand on you, you evil fucker.”

Y/n tries to step around me, but I block her path.

"I'll handle this." I give her other hand a reassuring squeeze.

Her brows pull together as she shuts her mouth.

"I was coming here to check in on her and see how she was holding up after seeing me and Thérèse. I'm sure it can't be easy seeing how she’s never going to be good enough for anyon-"

Bone crunches beneath my fist as I slam it straight into Dean’s nose. A deep sense of satisfaction fills me as his head rears back, rolling with the momentum of my punch. Blood gushes down his face and drips onto the carpet.

He tries to staunch the bleeding, but nothing seems to work.

“Call me when you get bored of him Y/n." Dean laughs.

Something dark takes over me. "Get out!" I roar as I lunge at him. My fingers grip onto air as he stumbles backward, tripping over his shoes as he holds his head back.

The pressure in my chest doesn't lessen as he disappears through the double doors. Hopefully he returns to whatever corner of hell he crawled out of before I have a chance to get my hands on him again.

Y/n huffs. "Well, that didn't go exactly as expected." I turn around, finding her hand clutched to her chest. Her twisted expression has my blood rushing to my ears.

I shake my head at her and say, “You’re mad." I laugh softly.

She laughs before wincing at the hand pressed against her chest. "Ouch."

"Let me have a better look." My pulse quickens as I assess her injury. I'm careful not to touch the skin near her knuckles,keeping mind of the swelling. It doesn't look like an open fracture so at least that is good news.

"You're insane. There's no other explanation for why you would punch someone in the face without knowing how."

"I thought it would be like the movies." She finches as she checks out the damage.

"We need to get you to the hospital to have it checked out" I choke on the words, unable to process the reason I decide to make that call. I fucking hate hospitals.

"No! I'm fine. See!" She wiggles her fingers and recoils.

I'm hit with the urge to go find Dean but hold back.

"Why would you punch him?"

Her jaw locks together, and she looks down at her vans.

I lift her chin with my finger. "Tell me."

She sighs, and it takes an exorbitant amount of effort not to shake the answers out of her.

"Promise not to do anything illegal if I tell you?"

"No."

Her head drops. "You're not going to be happy."

"I'm never happy." Except for rare occasions. All of which she is a part of.

She looks back up at me. Her eyes have a sheen to them that has nothing to do with her injured hand.

“He told me to…”

"To what?" Every muscle in my body tenses.

"to be with him or he’d make me regret it." She looks away as if she can hide the way her face is a wreck of emotions.

I'm already halfway down the stairs, body hot to the touch and my head empty of any thoughts besides finding Dean and pummeling him into the ground.

I should have known he would try to pull off a stunt like this. Part of me had stupidly hoped he would have some sense of decency left, but it seems he doesn't have a moral bone left in his body. I underestimated just how far he would go to retain her.

Y/n grips onto my arm and tugs me back. "Wait!"

"I can't talk to you right now.”

I can't talk to anyone, let alone her.

You're the one who brought her into this mess. What did you expect? You could’ve just told her how you felt last summer and prevented her getting with Dean in the first place.

Blood heats beneath my skin. I try to shake her off, but her hold only grows more desperate.

"I need you to take me to the hospital."

I pause, seeing through the cloud of red haze blocking my decision-making. "What?"

Her misty eyes lock onto mine. "I'm in a lot of pain."

Fuck. I release a ragged breath and shut my eyes. "Jere will take you."

"Connie, I need you there. Please." Her plea is my undoing.

My plan to send Dean into a coma slips away as I shut my eyes and nod my head. "Fine. Let's get you to a doctor.”

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part three done!!

side note: i wanted them to get matching ivy leaf tattoos bc they reminded me of taylor swifts song ivy🍂🍂

again pls lmk what you think of this part and have a good day/night!!

also pls reblog bc these take me ten years to write and my friend decided to torture me by reading them out loud in a long call about aubergines🤡🤡

[wicked-mind]

Last Love

Summary: Based on the quote “He may be your first love but I intend to be your last” by Klaus Mikaelson.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Descriptions of domestic abuse, swearing.

Note: I wrote this in an hour after a sudden spurt of inspiration. Any mistakes are my own due to the fact it is two in the morning lol. As always, any likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. I love that shit (:

Part Two Here

All Writings Masterlist

gifs not mine

You were on your way to class when you felt a grip on your upper arm, pulling you into a janitor closet and shutting the door behind you. Your blinked your eyes a few times to adjust to the darkness before seeing the muscular, dark haired man in front of you with a cocky grin that seemed to be permanently on his lips anytime you saw him, “Bucky! What the hell? Class starts in like thirty seconds, I can’t be late again!.” You whined out at him. It was your sophomore year in college and the teacher in the class you had happened to be an asshole of a professor with a god complex and he had humiliated you in front of the whole class the first time you were late.

Bucky grinned down at you, taking a step closer and placing one hand on the shelf behind you beside your head, leaning closer until he could smell your sweet perfume, “I miss you, doll. That boyfriend of yours has been taking up all your time leaving none for me.” He purred out to you before checking the watch on his wrist, “Nine-oh-one. You’re late. Might as well hang out in here with me.”

You had known Bucky since high school and somehow even ended up at the same college which he always claimed was a ‘happy accident’ or ‘fate.’ You didn’t know why, but he was infatuated with you. He was always cornering you against lockers or pulling you into empty rooms to slip out some sly line that always made your heart beat a little too fast and always managed to make you blush. You pulled your notebooks tighter to your chest as he leaned closer, forgetting how to breathe for a moment in his presence. You always felt something for Bucky, and he knew it, but the fact he couldn’t keep himself out of trouble was something that had always held you back from being with him, “I’m sorry we haven’t been able to spend as much time together as we used to, Buck… It’s just Charlie doesn’t really like you very much and I have a lot of studying to do.” Charlie had been your boyfriend for almost a year and he was so unbelievably sweet to you. He treated you like a princess and always gave you the warmest hugs and softest kisses. Well, almost the warmest hugs and softest kisses... There’s only been one other person that had Charlie beat and he was cornering you in a janitor closet.

Bucky chuckles a little at your excuse, shaking his head before resuming to stare into your eyes, “Oh, Y/N. My perfect little Y/N.” He said, lifting his other hand to gently run his knuckles along your cheek causing a shiver to run up your spine, “Do you love him?”

You pondered his question for a moment, slightly lost in those gorgeous blue eyes of his before nodding slowly, “I do, Buck. I really do love him.” You squeaked out. Bucky always made you nervous and your legs feel numb.

Bucky’s grin turned into a sweet smile towards you. He moved his hand that was stroking your cheek to lean on the shelf behind you as well, trapping you against the shelf now with both his arms. He leans his face closer until you could feel his warm, minty breath against your face and his lips were almost brushing against yours, “That’s fine, sweetheart.” He whispers out to you, staring into your eyes with his mischievous blue ones, “He may be your first love, but I intend to be your last. I’ll wait for you forever, doll.”

It had been a year since you graduated with your bachelors degree and also a year since you had seen or talked to Bucky due to Charlie. You had moved in with him right after graduating and that was when it seemed like his personality took a complete 180. He no longer left sweet kisses on your skin or gave you those warm hugs that made you melt. Instead those once sweet touches you craved had turned into violent ones you flinched away from. Charlie drank too much and that was when he was at his worst. He would lose his temper over what seemed small to you but was the end of the world to him. But you felt trapped. You had tried to leave once but he came home from the bar before you managed to slip out the door. He punished you for that, leaving you a shaking mess on the floor in the bathroom with a broken nose and bruises on your ribs.

It was the holiday season and Charlie had told you to decorate the house for a Christmas party he would be hosting tomorrow. You spent your whole day setting up a tree and decorating it as perfect as you could before moving onto decorating the rest of the house. You hung up the stockings on the fireplace and decorated the mantle with little nutcrackers your grandmother had passed down to you before she passed away. Once you were proud of the decorating of the house, you waited and waited for Charlie to get back from wherever he had went, assuming he went to the bar. You stripped out of your clothing and put on some comfy pajama pants and a tank top before pulling your robe over your body. You went to make some tea and sat on the couch, waiting for Charlie to return.

You tried to keep yourself awake on the couch, but slipped off into sleep sitting up with a blanket on your lap and the tv playing some late night television show. You were startled away with a crack, your eyes opening to see Charlie knocking off the nutcrackers from the fireplace and stepping on them one by one, “Charlie, what are you doing?!” You said, launching off the couch and trying to snag one of the unharmed nutcrackers.

Charlie immediately turned his gaze on you, gripping your wrist roughly before you could grab one of the nutcrackers, “What did I tell you?” He growled out, his eyes glossed over and his breath stunk of alcohol as he spoke to you.

“Honey… I decorated… I’m sorry if you don’t like it just… Just tell me what you were thinking and I’ll fix it…” You breathed out, trying your best to put on a smile to calm him. The grasp he had on your wrist tightened, causing you to wince, “C’mon, honey… let’s just go to bed and I’ll fix it all tomorrow before the party, I promise.”

Charlie shook his head at you, making light clicking noises with his tongue, “Oh baby… Why can’t you just get things right the first time?” He mumbled out to you before a harsh slap came across your cheek, making tears fall from your eyes as you whimpered for him to please stop, “You make it so hard to love you.” He said, moving his hand from your wrist to your cheeks, squeezing them harshly before shoving you back hard enough to make you run into the Christmas tree, knocking it over with a loud crash beside you on the floor.

You looked over to see him approaching you with that look in his eyes that you knew so well. He wasn’t going to stop and this wasn’t over. You scrambled to your feet, making a run for the bathroom to lock yourself inside but as you were shutting the door Charlie kicked it open, causing you to fly back against the counter and wince at the pain that shot up your arm when it hit the edge of the hard counter. You sunk to the ground, holding your hands up towards him as if to tell Charlie that you had been defeated, sobbing, “Charlie I’m so sorry… I’m so-“ Charlie cut off your sentence by landing a punch to your cheek before gripping onto your hair and pulling you up to meet his eye line, “You say your sorry every time and yet here we are again. You’re so disappointing and worthless.” He growled out, throwing you by the hair towards the tub which you stumbled over and fell into, bringing the shower curtain and rod toppling down on top of you. He was on you in seconds, slapping you again with the back of his hand where his college football ring managed to open up a large cut on your lip. He gripped the collar of your robe, pulling your face close to his, “I can’t even stand the sight of you.” He growled out before pushing you back into the bathtub. He stood up straight, placing a hand on his hip while the other ran through his hair slowly as he let out a deep sigh, “I’m going out. I expect this all to be cleaned up and when I get back you better be waiting for me in bed.”

You watched him exit the bathroom door with a slam, staying still with tears running down your cheeks until you heard the slam of the front door indicating Charlie had left again. You let out a loud sob, looking around the bathroom. You felt hopeless, worthless… lost. You needed to get out of here, get away from him. You pulled yourself out of the bathtub, wincing slightly when you got to your feet and noticed a large bruise forming on your thigh which you assumed was from when Charlie threw you into the tub. You forced yourself to look in the mirror at the injuries on your face- a nasty split lip, a cut on your forehead from when you were thrown into the tree and landed on the floor, and a bruise already forming on your cheek where he had punched and slapped you. You shook your head at yourself, wondering how you ended up here. Wondering what you had done to make Charlie turn into a monster.

You stepped out of the bathroom slowly on shaking legs, wincing at the pain in your arm and leg as you made your way to the bedroom, still sobbing. You saw your phone sitting on the dresser and the only thing that could pass through your mind is that you needed safety. You needed someone to help you. You needed Bucky. You grabbed you phone and prayed that his number was still the same, clicking his number and holding the phone to your ear.

“Hey, doll.” His voice was still like velvet, rolling off his tongue in a flirty matter and you just knew he had that crooked grin planted on his lips, “Been a while, how you been pretty girl?” You opened your mouth to speak but only a small sob came out of your mouth which made his tone change instantly to worry, “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself so you could form words, “Bucky… I need you… I need help…”

You could hear him fumbling around, assuming he was pulling himself out of bed and throwing on clothes, “I’m on the way, just text me the address. I got you, darlin’.”

You breathed out an ‘okay’ before hanging up the phone, sending him a message of your address and slumped onto the floor of your bedroom, gripping the phone for dear life as if it was your only life line. Then you broke. Wailing and crying at the trauma you had endured for over a year and you couldn’t help but feel like Bucky wouldn’t be able to do anything to help you.

You heard the front door open and you fell silent, your body tensing as you wondered if Charlie had returned. You held your breath, hoping that you could just make yourself invisible if you were silent and still enough. Then you heard footsteps coming towards the bedroom in a rush and you looked up to see Bucky standing in the doorway of the bedroom.

Bucky broke just about every traffic law he could on his way over to your house, letting himself in and scanning the rooms for any sign of you. His brow furrowed when he saw the tree knocked over with broken ornaments and nutcrackers on the floor, wondering what had happened. Then he walked into the bedroom and saw you there on the floor, beaten with tears rolling down your cheeks and gripping your phone, “Oh doll, no.” He whispered out, walking over and kneeling down on his knees in front of you. He lifted your chin up and looked at the wounds to your face, “What happened, sweetheart?” His angel, his perfect little Y/N was there in front o him broken and it was breaking his heart.

You could see the anger in his eyes but his tone was nothing but soft and filled with concern. His touch was gentle which was an immediate relief to you, having not been touched gently for so long. You whimpered slightly and closed your eyes, shaking your head, “Bucky… Please… Just get me out of here…” You sobbed out.

Bucky gently ran his finger tips over your cheek, nodding towards you, “I got you, sweetheart. Do you have a bag anywhere?” He asks and you nodded, pointing over to the closet. He stood up and went to the closet, pulling out a suitcase and placing it open on the bed. Bucky came back over to you, kneeling down and taking your hands gently to help you stand, “What do you need?”

“Just… Just some clothes… I don’t know.” You mumble out to him, your body still shaking and you gripped onto him, worried you’d fall.

Bucky nodded, keeping one hand in yours and moving the other around your waist and helped you to sit on the bed, “You just sit here, I’ll get your stuff.” He told you with a small smile before going back into the closet. He grabbed as many of your clothes he could from the closet, quickly shoving them into the suitcase as you stared at a wall still shaking. Once Bucky was done in the closet, he looked around the room for anything else you may need. He went through the bedside draws, grabbing out your journal and throwing it into the suitcase as well as your phone charger. Then he went to the dresser and opened the drawers, pulling out anything that looked like it was yours such as bras, underwear, and some jewelry. Once he had the suitcase full he turned to look at you, tilting your head up to look at him with his fingers on your chin, “Is there anything else you need, sweetheart?” He asks softly and when you shook your head no, he zipped up the suitcase and lifted it by the handle with one hand and outstretched his other towards you.

You shakily take his hand, letting him pull you up from the bed and help you out of the bedroom headed straight for the front door. You pause when you see all the Christmas decorations ruined, releasing his hand and walking over to grab the only nutcracker that hadn’t been broken by Charlie. You pulled it into your chest before going back to Bucky’s side where he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and led you out of that terrible house and into the safety of his black truck.

Bucky kept his hand in yours for the whole drive, cranking the heat so you weren’t shivering as you were still in your pajamas and robe. He would glance over at you every so often to just see you staring at your bare feet and would give your hand a small squeeze as if trying to ground you. Once he got you back to his house, Bucky helped you through the front door where you were immediately met with familiar faces sitting on the couch watching a football game and drinking beer.

“Oh my god, Y/N?” Steve asked, standing up and walking over to you immediately, looking down at you with a horrified look on his face, “What happened?”

You looked up at Steve and tired to manage the best smile you could, “Hi, Stevie.” You say softly then notice Sam was right behind him and you half smiled towards him before looking back down at the floor, still clutching the nutcracker in your hands.

Bucky noted how uncomfortable you looked, not wanting to talk about what had happened yet, “I’m gonna get her upstairs guys, I’m sure we will have time to catch up later.” He said, giving Steve and Sam a look before leading you upstairs to his bedroom. He set the suitcase down on the floor and watched as you immediately sat at the edge of his bed, staring at the nutcracker in your hands. Bucky moved to sit next to you on the bed, rubbing your back softly, “Y/N, sweetheart, can you tell me what happened? Did Charlie do this to you?”

You kept your eyes on the nutcracker in your hands. At least Charlie didn’t get to your favorite one and you were able to bring it with you. He had red circles on his face for rosy cheeks and a long white beard with blue clothes painted on him and a matching blue hat. Tears hadn’t stopped falling from your eyes since Charlie left, “He just… changed, Buck..” You started, your voice barely above a whisper, “After I moved in with him, he changed. He started drinking a lot more… and then all this…” You lifted a hand to gesture to your wounded face, “All this just… happened. He was upset about how I decorated for Christmas…”

Bucky felt more rage than he had ever felt in his life for what you had been through, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He whispers to you, keeping his voice leveled as he didn’t want you to know how angry he was, “What can I do?”

You looked up into his eyes, scanning his face before looking back down at the nutcracker in your hands, “Can… can you just hold me until I fall asleep?” You ask softly, “I still don’t feel… safe.” Bucky had always made you feel safe even though he was quite the trouble maker. You wished you would’ve just given into your feelings for him then maybe none of this would’ve happened to you. And the way he looked at you… fuck, all those feelings you had for him just came flooding back in like you haven’t seen him for years.

Bucky smiles and nods, “Of course, doll. It’d be my honor.” He told you, “You’re always safe with me, sweetheart. But before we go to bed, why don’t we get you cleaned up?” When you nodded, he stood and left the room coming back with a frozen bag of vegetables, a damp wash cloth, and some rubbing alcohol. He cleaned your wounds on your face, making you hold the frozen vegetables to your cheek to help reduce swelling. Once you were all cleaned up to the best of his capability, Bucky helped you change into some clean pajamas since the ones you had on were slightly torn with spots of blood from your own wounds. It also gave Bucky a chance to assess the large bruise forming on your upper thigh. Once you were all changed, he got into bed with you, tucking the covers over your shoulders.

You stared at Bucky who was staring back at you with a small smile, gently stroking his fingertips along your arm to comfort you. After a few minutes of silence, you decided to speak, “I’m sorry, Bucky.” You whisper to him, “For not talking to you… He made me stop.”

Bucky smiled and shushed you, “It’s okay, doll. You’re here now. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You nod slightly and scooted a little closer to him, leaning your head on his chest though it made you wince at the touch but you didn’t back away, feeling safe and comfortable as he had always made you feel, “You’ve always been my person… Thank you.”

Bucky moved his hand to stroke through your hair softly before kissing your forehead gently, “And I always will be.”

Bucky helped you through a lot over the next six months. At first, you’d flinch whenever anybody made a sudden more towards you or something loud startled you. Bucky was always there right beside you though, taking your hand and leaving kisses along your knuckles to calm you down and let you know it was going to be okay. You stayed in his room, he had made room in his closet and drawers for all your clothes. You slept next to him in his bed everynight, feeling safe in his arms. Charlie had been calling your phone incessantly and one day after sixteen nasty text messages and an awful voicemail, Bucky left with Sam while you stayed in the house with Steve watching cartoons. After that day, Charlie never bothered you again and although you were worried about what Sam and Bucky had done to him, you were grateful to finally be able to move on with your life.

After Charlie had been taken care of, Bucky and you quickly got back into the groove of your friendship. He would flirt with you nonstop, always wrapping an arm around your waist or shoulder and leaving soft kisses on your forehead and nose. He even helped you with your nightmares, pulling you close and waking you up to whisper sweet and comforting things into your ear until you fell asleep again. Bucky grounded you, made you feel special. He was slowly making up for all the things Charlie had done to you, showing you how special you are and all the love you deserved.

You were curled up next to him in his bed, staring at his sleeping face as his arms were wrapped around you. He looked so beautiful laying there asleep that it made a small smile form onto your lips. You’d been kicking yourself the last few weeks mentally for not just giving into him years ago, wondering what your life would’ve been like if you just said yes when he asked you out everyday in high school. You bit your lip gently before whispering, “Bucky?”

“Hmm?” Bucky hummed out to you, keeping his eyes closed but a small smile formed on his lips at your voice.

You studied his features, nervous for your next words, “Did you mean what you said years ago? About being my last love?” You ask softly.

Bucky opened one eye to look over at you when you asked the question, his smile widening and he pulled you closer into his arms and kissed your nose gently, “Of course, doll. Why?”

You smile softly to him, watching him now open both eyes to stare at you curiously, “Because I… I love you. I always have and I’m sorry I wasted so much time not being with you.”

Bucky’s smile turned into that crooked grin that you swear was crafted by god himself, “You mean that, sweetheart?” He purred out to you, “You love me?”

You nodded slowly, “I do. And not just for saving me but everything you’ve always done for me. You’ve always treated me like I was important, worthy of love.”

Bucky shifted in the bed, rolling on top of you and staring down at you lovingly, “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to say those words, sweetheart.” He said down to you before lowering his face closer to yours, his lips brushing against your jaw softly making you let out a jagged breath at his touch, “Because I have always loved you. And I always will love you. We are meant to be, baby. Just took a little longer for us to get here.” He whispered out against your skin before his lips met yours, kissing you deeply while he brought a palm up to your cheek.

You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach at his words, thinking it didn’t get better than this. But then he kissed you and it was like fire danced across your skin. Your hands went up to tangle in his dark hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been kissed so affectionately, felt so loved. You kept kissing him, not wanting to waste anymore time without feeling his love. You were finally his and he was yours.

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Taglist: @buckypops @stcrryslibrary @bibliophilewednesday

[ray-ray-writings]

Family Fatality-Awesamdude

Gn!reader x Sam x Son!Tommyinnit …. It be angsty and sad with a happy ending. Also, does not follow what actually happened in the lore!

Small note: I think this is the last fic I’m going to write in first person. I think a lot of people enjoy the use of second person more and it’s also a bit easier for me to write in second person. The only reason that this fic is written in first is because it’s a part two and I want to keep it consistent. If you have thoughts about this, feel free to message me!!

Part One: Family Matters.

Check out my masterlist here

Y/N believed it was a bad idea from the beginning. Call it parental instincts. But unfortunately no one believed them… until it was too late. 

Y/N’s POV

I knew it was a bad idea. 

I should have listened to my gut. 

Tommy should have listened.

Sam should have listened. 

We should have known better. 

When Tommy told Sam and me that he wanted to visit Dream in prison, I instantly said no. That boy had been through so much trauma and manipulation because of that green wearing bastard, I didn’t want Dream to ever be able to see Tommy again. 

Sam was more into it. It was less of wanting Tommy to be able to see Dream and more he wanted an opportunity to show Tommy the prison. But he was for it. Sure he knew what Dream did to Tommy and hated the blond for it, but he also understood Tommy’s desire to see him. 

We told Tommy we would talk it over and let him know our decision.

I really didn’t want him to go. 

Sam talked me into it. 

That night after we put Tommy and Stella to sleep and crawled into our own bed, Sam began to explain his side further. He told me about how it might be nice for Tommy to get some closure. To be able to see Dream completely trapped in prison with no way out. It may help stop the nightmares.

That’s what convinced me in the end. 

As much as Tommy would try to tell us he was fine, his dreams told us otherwise. More often than not, we’d wake in the morning to find Tommy had crawled in bed between us or that he would be sitting in the rocking chair in Stella’s room. He never told us exactly what would happen, but we could tell. 

I just wanted them to stop. I wanted my boy to be able to feel safe in this house. And if that was the only way to have it happen… I had to let it happen. 

Tommy was thrilled with our verdict. Threw his arms around us in a huge hug and kissed our cheeks. I did my best to put on a happy front, but it was difficult. Sam could tell. Tommy could tell. Heck, I’m sure that even baby Stella could tell. 

I was wrapped in another hug by Tommy and was pulled close to his chest while he buried his face in my hair. 

“I’ll be alright baba… I promise.” 

Liar. 

My stomach was in knots the day he went to the prison. I woke up with enough time to see them off. I gave both of them extremely tight hugs, forcing them to promise me they would be safe before sending them off, telling them to be back in time for dinner. 

I watched the two walk toward the horizon and stood there watching long after they disappeared from view. The thing that snapped me from my swell of anxiety and nerves was the sound of Stella crying. 

I immediately jumped into action, closing the door and rushing toward her room. I carefully got her out of her crib and began our usual morning routine. “They’re going to be fine baby,” I cooed as I changed her, “They’re going to be just fine.” 

I knew she couldn’t understand me. I knew I was saying that more to try and convince myself of that. Thinking if I said it out loud it would make it true… it wasn’t true. 

The whole day I could help but worry. I tried to focus on Stella, on taking care of her, playing with her, making sure she was okay, but I found my thoughts drifting back to Tommy and Sam and the visit. I couldn’t help but wonder how it was going, if the two were safe. 

The pit in my stomach deepened when our usual dinner time rolled around and there was no sign of the boys. I tried to contact one of them via communicator, but no response. I wasn’t surprised. The prison was so heavy laced with obsidian it was nearly impossible to get a signal in there. I watched with a heavy heart and a knotted stomach as the sun sunk lower and lower into the sky and still, no boys. Stella’s bedtime came and I was forced to put her down alone, Sam and Tommy still nowhere to be found. 

I tried to remain calm. I sat on the couch and stared at the TV as a movie played. After a while, I realized my knee was bouncing like crazy and that I was halfway through the film but I had no idea what the hell was happening. I reached over and quickly shut off the TV. The black screen reflected the scene behind me, letting me see what was behind me.

I immediately jumped at the sight of my husband standing in the doorway behind me. My hand flew to my chest as my head whipped around to look at him. “Sam!” I exclaimed a bit breathless, using my free hand to push myself up from the couch to completely turn to him. “You scared me! I didn’t hear you come in!” 

Sam didn’t say anything. He only stared at me. That confused me. He usually rushes right for me, shouting hello, and wraps me in a hug and kisses me sweetly… Why is he just staring at me blankly? “Sam?” I questioned, taking a few steps forward toward him. He still didn’t move. Sam just stared. As I grew closer, I could see that his eyes were rimmed red and the usual light that filled his eyes was completely gone. It was really freaking me out. “What’s wrong?”

It was then I noticed that he had entered alone. Tommy hadn’t come in with him. That sent a fury of butterflies to stir in my stomach. “Sam? Where’s Tommy?” 

That was the question that broke the dam. 

I watched as Sam’s bottom lip began to quiver and a hushed sobbed echoed throughout the room. “I’m sorry,” Sam whimpered out, another sob escaping him. “I’m so sorry.” 

Sam’s legs seemed to give out from under him, causing me to rush forward as my husband fell to his knees. I sunk down to my knees and quickly cupped his face, gently tilting his head to look at me. 

Sobs were still falling from his lips as his eyes met mine. I rose my eyebrows at him, not wanting to rush him but still wanting to know what the hell was going on. I didn’t have to wait long for his gut wrenching words. 

“You were right.” 

It instantly clicked. I was right. That’s why Tommy wasn’t here. I was right. I was right to not want him to go. To not want him to see Dream. Something happened. Something bad happened. I was right. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stop him. I was too far. I failed him. I failed to protect him. I failed our son. He’s dead and it’s all my fault.” 

Time seemed to stop at Sam’s words. Sam kept babbling words out through his sobs, but I became unable to hear him any longer. A loud ringing filled my ears and I watched as my own vision blurred. 

He’s….

He’s dead….

Tommy…

Tommy is dead. 

Dream… Dream killed him. 

A gut wrenching sob ripped itself from your throat as you fully registered what your husband was telling you. Sam’s arms instantly reach out and wrap around you tightly, bringing you into his chest. Your hands fall from his cheeks onto his chest as you clutch his shirt, burying your face in him as you sob. 

You’re not sure how long you’re there, kneeling on the floor sobbing. Slowly, and I mean slowly, but surely, your sobs die down until the only noise filling the room are soft sniffles. 

“I was right,” you manage to croak out, pulling yourself away from your creeper hybrid husband to look up at him. 

“You were right,” Sam echos, moving one of his hands to cup your cheek and tilting his head down to rest his forehead on yours. 

You let out a watery laugh as you close your eyes tightly and relish in the gentle contact. 

“God. I have never wanted to be wrong more in my entire life… I wish I wasn’t right.” 

The next few days passed slowly. The sky seemed to be constantly dark and everything seemed gloomy. Even Stella was more somber, as if she could tell something was wrong. And she probably could. She had gone from spending almost every second with her older brother to not seeing him for days on end in the blink of an eye. 

Sam still had to work. He had to force himself to go back to that damned prison with that bastard and listen to his taunting laughter through the cameras as he mocks the Warden’s pain. It takes everything in Sam to hold back and not barge into the cell and kill Dream himself. He knew that wouldn’t bring back Tommy and wouldn’t make him feel better, but even still. 

The house seemed so quiet. Even with Stella babbling and cooing, the rooms had never felt more quiet and empty. I found myself searching for Tommy’s voice, his laughter, his whole presence everyday only to be disappointed when my search came up empty. I tried to play some of his favorite music discs, but tears would fill my eyes as I realized I would never hear him sing along to them and the silence that would have usually been filled by him babbling about the disc was too deafening for me to want to listen to them again. 

The worst part, I found, was when Sam would get home. I was always happy to have my husband back. Always more than willing to hug and kiss him in a greeting. A welcome home. But everyday, I’d try to turn to greet Tommy two. I would be waiting for two blonds to appear in my home, even though I knew only one would be home. My heart would break over and over as I searched for the boy that I knew wouldn’t be there. 

I let out a sigh as I finished up the last dish I had prepared for dinner. Sam should be home from work any minute now. I set the table, thr-- two places and the food in the middle, Stella in her high chair. Now all there was to do was wait for Sam. 

As I finished up, I heard the front door open. “Honey! I’m home!” Sam’s voice called out. A soft smile placed itself on my lips as I turned around and made my way to the front door. 

“Hey honey welcome--” The sentence died on my lips as my eyes met what was at my front door. My husband had not come home alone. Instead of the one blond that I had seen come home day after day, had been joined by another blond. 

A familiar blond. 

The blond I had spent the last several days missing and mourning. 

Tommy. 

“Tommy?” My voice croaked as my eyes met his icy blue ones. 

Tears formed in the corner of his eyes as he gave me a soft smile, “Hi baba.” 

A sob let my lips as I raced forward and wrapped my arms around the middle of the boy I call my son. His arms immediately wrapped around me as he pulled me tightly to him. His face turned down and buried in my hair as I nuzzled into his chest. My fingers clutched at his shirt that rested on his back, trying to prove to myself that he was here. That Tommy was back and actually here. Here in the flesh. 

“How--How did you? Why are you? What the?” I babbled out, tilting my head up to try and look at him. 

“We can talk about it later… For now I’d just like my parents to hold me.” 

Another sob escaped my lips as I moved my head back to its original position. Sam’s strong arms wrapped around the two of us, pulling us close to him. Our little family was back together again. How? I don’t know. But I didn’t care. Tommy was back. 

The sound of Tommy’s stomach rumbling broke up from the sweet moment. I let out a small laugh as I carefully pulled away from the hug. I let my hand come up and cup the boy’s cheek. “How about you go sit at the table? I’ll get another plate.” 

He gave me a quick nod, leaning down and kissing my cheek before making his way to the table.

 “STELLA!! I MISSED YOU!”

I laughed again and turned to my husband, giving him a smile. “He’s back?” I whispered the question, wrapping my arms around his neck. 

“He’s back.” Sam confirmed, placing his hands on my hips, pulling me close to him. He then leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, one I instantly returned. The kiss said it all. Tommy was back. Our family was back. We were whole once again. And I’m going to make sure that it stays that way. 

That sucked. I’m sorry. But if you did enjoy, be sure to leave a like and maybe a reblog and comment telling me what you liked about it. Until next time!

[bakugosbratx]

Request: Hi! I was wondering if you could write a story when y/n is the crazy one and kidnaps Bakugo. Tysm ! -meena

Warnings: NSFW 18+ Content. Yandere, stalking, kidnapping, cursing, mental illness, blood, abuse, drugs, etc.

Check out my other works here

A/N: Hmm this is a different turn of events. I love it 👀 I hope you enjoyed anon! I went a little wild with this one.

Words: 2.2k

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @miriobaby @lanarist @sickchildren @bakugousbrat @ssplague @ahbeautifulexistence @m779 @vinny-likes-to-play21

“Dear Katsuki,

I watched you save a civilian on television today. I know it’s your job and all, but you did not have to save her. Her life is not as important as mine. Do you not cherish what we have? Am I just a nobody to you? This is my 103rd letter to you and still no response. I know your address did not change so do not give me that pathetic excuse, Katsuki Bakugo. Surely, you must remember we are soulmates. We are one. How dare you fucking forget me? I had to rip all of my posters down in a fit of rage. You know how angry that makes me, baby, but it will all be okay, because you are coming home to me. We will be one.

Sincerely,

Yours.”

You burst into a fit of giggles as you kick your bare feet back and forth on his bed. You wrote in black ink and covered the paper in orange hearts since it is the pro-hero’s favorite color. You could not help but leave precious lipstick kisses on the page. Something you always do in your love letters to Katsuki. The posters in your house are covered in them. Katsuki’s beautiful face is just so kissable. You cannot wait to do it tonight.

All you can think about is Katsuki. That is all your day consists of. Your clothing is all his merchandise and his favorite colors. You spend hours upon hours watching interviews, videos, surveillance footage of the hero. When he is out on patrol, you do your best to hide in areas so you can see the hero up close and personal. Your face just beams with joy at the mere glance of him.

You did your best to meet him several times. Any disaster there was to be had, you put on your nicest attire, do your make-up just how you think he likes, and have your hair freshly done. No better way to greet your significant other after hero work than looking like a beauty pageant queen.

Sadly, all your attempts were failures. Katsuki did not even give you the time of day. He is way too focused on beating the villains to a pulp. You did admire this about him, but your own selfish desires created hatred in you. He should be paying attention to you. Not those pesky villains.

Katsuki is sure to receive forty-five letters addressing the issue. All that he will never even skim over. This is only adding fuel to the fire.

The posters that hang in every single room in your apartment are ripped to shreds. Pools of tears covered your orbs, smudging all of your makeup. You climbed onto your black sofa, taking your left high heel and breaking the glass photo of Katsuki hanging there. Shards of glass sprinkle the couch and hardwood floor below. You don't even care for the pieces that collected into your skin. You will worry about that later.

“Fuck you, Katsuki!” You sobbed, ripping his face with your teeth and spitting out the saliva covered photo onto the litter filled floor.

“Pro-Hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamite saves another civilians life yet again, taking down another member of the league of villains who was terrorizing the victim.”

The news anchor’s words fell on deaf ears as you went to the television screen. You are captivated by your significant other’s beauty on the tv. Blood leaked from your freshly manicured hands. They are painted orange and black as always.

“Oh, Katsuki,” you sighed with a smile, tracing a heart around his face with your leaking blood, “we will be together soon. I promise, baby. I’ll take you away from this sick, cruel world so we can live happily ever after.”

You were serious that day. You planned it on your calendar. The countdown began on the night you are going to be one with Katsuki. A day you knew you both looked forward to.

“Dear Katsuki,

Did you miss me? I know I missed you. I even stamped this letter in my blood so you can have my DNA to mix with yours. I can’t wait to procreate with you. We will make such wonderful babies, don’t ya think? They will be so beautiful like you. I will be such an excellent mother. No woman can be a great wife to you like I can. Do you understand me?”

You had to pause writing as your blood started to boil at the thought. Your pen is already creating a huge ink spot from the anger consuming your hands. Small growls escaped your parted lips as you began to growl.

“If I can’t have you, no one can, Katsuki Bakugo. I am your one true love. You're one and only. And I’ll make sure that day comes. Just a few more days, baby, and we will be one.

Sincerely,

Yours.”

The day finally came. You knew Katsuki’s schedule by heart. You loved watching him do his morning routines with the security cameras you placed in his home. The poor male never even thought to check. Such a mistake on his part. It only confirmed he needed protection from the world. Only you can provide that. Sure, you may be quirkless, but no one knows Katsuki like you do. No one can love him like you. He knows this. He has to.

You drew a luke-warm bubble bath with nice lit candles, rose pedals, a few drops of your blood, and some freshly made desserts for you both to enjoy while you catch up. You are even so kind enough to fetch him a beer or two so he can relax. You know how he enjoys his alcoholic beverages after a long day of hero work.

You rested on his bed. The natural caramel scent engulfed your nostrils as you wrote letters into your notebook once more. Even when you two are officially together forever, you still love to write out your thoughts. You know he enjoys them as well.

Hours upon hours passed. Frustration arose overtime. You did not want to be angry with your spouse, but he knows better than to be home late on your special day. You have almost filled up your notepad with phrases upon phrases of ‘I love you’s’ and sweet nothings. Along with other things.

You tapped your bandages covered foot on the ground as you began to pace. “What is taking him so long?” You huffed aloud, growing more impatient by each passing second. The bath is beginning to become cold and that is just rude in your opinion. You decided to write out your emotions.

“Dear Katsuki,

What the fuck is taking you so long, huh? It’s so fucking aggervating and just plain rude. I have done so much for you only to toss me to the side like I’m nothing. Are you cheating on me? I do not tolerate disrespect, Katsuki Bakugo. You are going to make me mean and you know I hate being mean to you. You just make me jealous, baby. You know how you do that to me. Make me feel all types of emotion I can’t seem to understand, but one thing is for certain is that you and I will be together.

Sincerely,”

You did not even get to finish your final entry as you hear the front door downstairs unlock. Scrambling to put the diary away, you gather the necessary items from under the bed and wait for the perfect moment to strike. Katsuki’s natural loud ways was helping you locate his every move without even having to look at security footage.

All you have to do is be patient.

Katsuki sat on the couch, propping his sock-covered feet onto the glass coffee table and turning on the television. You allowed him some moments to get settled before gently tip-toeing down the stairs, rope, duct tape, and a blunt object ready in hand.

Just as Katsuki turned to acknowledge your presence, the crowbar hit his head, knocking him unconscious. You quickly attend to his wound — not without dropping some droplets of blood into his — so it does not get offended. You cannot have your husband getting an infection.

You tie up his hands and legs, duct tape his mouth after delivering kisses to his perfectly plump lips, and drag him to the kitchen. You did not realize how much your lover really weighed. Too much time was wasted dragging him to the fridge than preferred, but it will all be worth it in the end. You know it will be.

Katsuki did not wake up until the next day. You stayed by his side the whole time, telling him about your day and how much you have planned for you two. Of course, he needs to build his trust with you. You love a very intelligent man and the last thing you need is for him to be against you.

Slowly opening his crimson eyes, his attention is brought to a grinning you. Katsuki immediately attempts to escape the captivity he is in, but it is no use. You just had to buy special rope that cancels quirks.

“Struggle all you want, Katsuki-poo. There is no escaping me.” You chuckled, loving the way he squirmed and furrowed his eyebrows at you. All of his curses are mumbled by the tape which is probably the best considering you did not want to be insulted right now.

“When you calm down, I’ll take off the tape.” You bargained, shrugging nonchalantly as you kneel in front of the man. Did this calm him down? No. You know it wouldn’t regardless. You know Katsuki better than he knows himself yet you already want to push his buttons. The way he gets so angry turns you on and you can’t just help yourself but want more.

After a couple of hours of Katsuki complaining and you writing even more in your diary, he decided to calm down. This made you happy. You wanted to hear his beautiful gruff voice.

Grabbing the corner of the tape, you rip it off. Katsuki is already barking insults. “Are you fucking insane? Who the hell even are you? This isn’t going to end well with you, you psycho bit—“

A hard slap to his face interrupted Katsuki’s spill. Along with the duct tape you placed back on his mouth. “Such a meanie,” you pout, “and here I was about to be so nice to you.”

This cycle repeated itself for three days. You never left his side once. How could you? He is obviously in distress. He needs you by his side. He cannot do anything without you. Especially with his hands tied behind his muscular back. Katsuki finally decided that playing the game is the only way to win it.

You ripped the tape off once again. Katsuki did not even speak this time. “Did you learn your lesson?” You quizzed with an arched brow. “Y’know being a meanie is not going to get you anywhere, Katsukikins.”

“Why are you doing this?” Katsuki inquired, his gruff voice sounding so weak and hollow. You almost felt bad.

“You’re so silly, Suki. C’mon,” you brought your lips close to his, “gimme a kiss.”

Reluctantly, Katsuki did as instructed. Considering you are straddling his lap and his powers are useless, he has no choice in the matter. You loved the compliance.

“Good boy.” You praised, ruffling his messy blonde hair. Katsuki glared at you. “Will you be good and eat some food for me?”

“I don’t want your stupid ass food.” Katsuki growled, laying his head against the bottom freezer of his fridge.

“Nonsense, Suki.” You giggled, feeling extremely joyful to be with Katsuki. You bring a spoon of Miso soup up to his closed lips, “have some. I blew on it so it’s not too hot.”

“Get that trash away from me, you idiot—“ Katsuki was interrupted by a spoon entering his mouth. Though he would hate to admit this, the soup tasted delicious and he is quite hungry. He put up a fight, but allowed you to feed him properly until every drop was gone. Unfortunately, Katsuki is unaware that the soup is drugged until it’s too late.

His body began to feel numb. He did not even have the strength to ask questions as his eyes became drowsy. Soon, he is slumped over, sound asleep as you manage to drag him up the stairs and into your shared bed.

Planting kisses all over structures, you tuck him in and finish some late night entries in your diary. Skimming through them all and reflecting on how you got here now, it made you smile. Progress has been made and will continue to do so.

Signing off on the final page, you write:

“Dear Katsuki,

These past three days have been exhilarating. I see it in your terrified eyes how happy you are that I am here. I know how much you missed me. I missed you, too, baby. We will continue to grow and soon, we will have children. I even have my menstrual cycle all planned out. I am all yours and you’re all mine. Can’t you see, baby doll? We are forever meant to be.

Sincerely,

Yours.”

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 3

Bakugo x Reader

Words: 4892

Masterlist

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?

Words with 'this' is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

***********************************************************************

Dabi had laid you down gently in the back seat of his car, taking off his jacket to lay over you. You wanted to fall asleep you really did. But the consistent pain coming from your hip was enough to keep you awake, but not enough for you to pass out. You hugged the jacket around you that smelled like smoke and coffee.

You don’t know much time passed but eventually you were being pulled from the backseat. He picked you up bridal style and made his way to the house, “Look at you. We’re not even married, and you already have me carrying you over the threshold.”

When you didn’t react to his little joke he sighed, “Wow tough crowd, okay.”

He walked straight to the couch and put you down before immediately jogging to the kitchen to grab some first aid supplies… amongst other things.

He came back and sat on the table that was in front on the couch and maneuvered you so your injured hip was accessible to him. “Okay this is going to sting for a little bit, but I’m going to need you to stay still until I’m done.” Without any more warning then that he poured what smelled like vodka on the wound.

It stung like a bitch, causing you to dig your nails into the cushion of the couch and grit your teeth so hard you were surprised they didn’t crack.

He started to wipe it down with some kind of cloth. Cleaning all the dried blood and sweat from you. You were practically panting now trying to breathe through the sharp pain. “That’s it. Keep breathing. Good girl. I’m almost done.” He taped a bandage over it before pulling your hoodie back down. “There. Good as new.”

He helped you sit up a little so he could give you a glass of water, which you were incredibly thankful for. “Alright… so I have all the good stuff. Anything you could want really.” He pulled out several bottles of pills.

You didn’t know what was in those bottles, but you knew you didn’t want any. You’ve had enough drugged out days to last a lifetime. So as much as you knew it’d help with the pain, you didn’t want it. You just met Dabi less than twelve hours ago. You didn’t know what kind of bullshit he’d pull once you went under.

You shook your head no and pointed to the bottle of vodka. You may not want pills, but a shot wouldn’t kill you.

He chuckled, “Okay tough guy. Whatever you say.” He walked back to the kitchen and returned with two of the biggest shot glasses you had ever seen. “Let’s get this party started huh?” He poured two shots and handed one to you. “To life off the grid.”

You both threw your shots back. He with no reaction, you however immediately started coughing.

His hand rubbed a circle on your back, “Look at you. Took it like a champ. Didn’t even need a chaser.” He poured another shot for himself and brought it up to his lips but stopped when he saw you looking at him. “What? You didn’t think I’d give you more than one, did you? Oh no, no, no. With how tiny you are? Not to mention your tolerance has probably gone to shit. I think one is plenty for now.”

Well jokes on him. Just because you seem weak doesn’t mean you are. He’s not going to tell you how much you can and can’t drink. You scooted to the edge of the couch, wincing a little as you did. You scooped up the bottle of vodka and took a swig straight from the bottle.

You saw something flash behind his eyes, but he immediately hid it behind a playful smirk, “I don’t know if you’re a badass or a brat. Only time will tell. But I’ll have you know that in my house… My word is law. I’m just trying to help you after all.” He tore the bottle from your hands before securing the lid, giving it an extra hard squeeze to keep you from opening it again. “But because this is your first night here, and you’re hurt, and I really am a nice guy. I’ll let it slide this once…. So? You still want some ice cream?”

You nodded as you reached for your notebook but was alarmed when you couldn’t find it. You could already feel the light feeling of a buzz taking over, but you refused to let Dabi know he was right about your tolerance.

“What’s up? What are you looking for?” You made a gesture with your hands as if you were writing something down. “Ah, right. The handy dandy notebook. It’s probably in the car. I’ll go grab it.” He took a few steps away before coming back to grab the bottle of vodka, mumbling something about how he refuses to clean up your puke.

You took this time while he was away to get a better look at the place. It was very minimalistic. Lots of greys, whites, and blacks. The couch felt just as expensive as the giant tv on the wall looked. From what you could see of the kitchen, it looked nice. The shiny appliances were either kept impeccably clean, or never used. Was this his house? It hardly looked lived in.

“Alright got the notebook. How about you pick something to watch while I scoop some ice cream. What do you want? One for Vanilla, two for chocolate, three for cookies and cream.”

You held up three fingers. You were amazed at how well he was adjusting to communicating with you already. He had just accepted that you weren’t talking and went with it.

“Cookies and cream huh? I thought you’d be more of a fan of vanilla.” He chuckled. “The remot is on the side table next to you. The TV is rigged so you can basically watch whatever you want. Just type it into the search bar.”

You picked up the remote and quickly started scanning through channels. Your finger accidentally brushed the microphone button and you froze at the loud beeping noise that signaled it was listening.

Dabi had made his way over with two bowls both with cookies and cream. He saw the face you made at the remote before taking it from you and replacing it with a bowl of ice cream. “Hey none of that pouty shit. It’s not cute. This is temporary, you’ll be talking again in no time.”

He looked at the screen, “Okay one for anime, two for live action.” You held up one finger. “Okay, One for thriller, two for action, three for comedy. Four for romance.” You held up two fingers. “Oh, thank god I really thought you were going to pick romance. Okay I’m going to scroll through them, just tap my shoulder when you want me to stop.”

He scrolled for a while before you stopped him at Naruto. “Ah a classic. Good pick. Now get comfy. I have a feeling you’re gonna pass out before the first episode is even over.”

Sure enough, soon after finishing your bowl of ice cream you felt your eye lids drooping. A part of you was still nervous to fall asleep. But seeing as you just had a wild 24 hours… there was no way in hell you were fighting sleep for long.

“You ready for bed yet?” You sleepily nodded your head and started to slide down so you could lay down on the couch. “Oh no you don’t.” He scooped you up and headed down a hallway. He entered a rather large room with a bathroom attached and tossed you onto the bed causing the wound in your hip to throb. “Okay welcome to you room, this your bed, that is your bathroom. I will be right across the hall. I’d say yell if you need something but… well you know. So… try to not need me. Have a good night.”

You grabbed his wrist before he could get far, “What don’t tell me you’re like afraid of the dark or something.” He turned around to see your blushing face as you pointed to the bathroom and then to yourself. “Ooooooh, okay. Right. So, is this like a you need to pee situation? Or did you like… want to shower? Not that I’m against helping you take a shower…” He smirked at you.

You rolled your eyes and held up one finger. “Okay, okay, but you will eventually have to shower. But I guess we can figure that out tomorrow.” There was a wicked gleam in his eye that could only be compared to a child who was plotting on how to steal a cookie from the cookie jar.

He had been pretty patient while waiting for you to finish going to the bathroom, but he was still just as rough as he tossed you back onto the bed. “Alright, so, to reiterate, I’m right across the hall. Try to not need me. Good night.”

You sank into the bed the second the door closed behind him. You were alone. You were free and you were alone. Twenty-four hours ago, you had been strapped to a bed with shock collar on. You curled into a ball and cried. You wanted this to be the last time you felt sorry for yourself, so you wanted to get it all out now. Tomorrow was the first day of your new life and you didn’t plan on wasting a single second of it.

It didn’t take long for you to cry yourself to sleep considering how exhausted you were. What would have surprised you however was the fact that Dabi was sitting just outside the door listening to you muffled sobs, clenching his fists in rage.

It wasn’t until he heard you screaming that he realized he had fallen asleep there. On his feet in seconds he ran into your room. What he saw shook him a little bit. You had kicked all of the blankets off the bed. Soaked in sweat and tears. Your body was jerking around so hard it looked painful. You were having a nightmare, likely due to PTSD.

Shit what did he do? He’s no stranger to bad dreams, but he also knows he could make it worse if he doesn’t do this right. “Hey y/n. Y/N! I need you to wake up honey. It’s just a dream. You’re safe. Y/n. Y/N! Come on now follow my voice. Wake up for me yeah? You’re okay, I promise.” He reached out and as lightly as he possibly could touched your cheek.

You were burning up. He cursed as he tried to peel your soaked hoodie off of you. He started to shake your shoulder a little harder. But all that did was make you panic and thrash around. So he grabbed you and held you to him. “God Damnit Y/n. Wake up!”

He felt the tension leave your body only for a moment before you started to try and push him off of you.

He immediately dropped his arms and pushed away from you. “Hey you’re okay. It’s just me. Remember your hero pals saved you yesterday and now we’re roomies.” He could see the confusion in your eyes start to fade as you woke up. “Believe me I understand. I’d be scared too if I woke up in a weird place with my ugly mug lookin at you.”

He reached for your journal and tried to hand it to you. “You want to talk about it?”

You shook your head and hugged your knees to your chest. He nodded and put the journal back on the nightstand. “That’s okay. You don’t have to…” He wasn’t very good at this part. Talking about emotions and shit. “Yeah so uh… I can get you a different shirt.” He could see the goosebumps already raising on your arms. Now that the panic and adrenaline had subsided you were damp and cold. “And I can get a warm bath going if you want? He looked at the clock. It’s 5:30, which in ungodly early for me, but if you’re up I guess we can go ahead and start the day… How does that sound?”

You refused to look him in the eye and settled for a shrug of your shoulders, letting your knees drop from your chest. He could see straight through your tank top and was pleasantly surprised to find that under that baggie hoodie you had some nice tits.

He liked his lips and lucky for him, you were too busy avoiding eye contact that you didn’t even notice. “Alright well I tried being nice in giving you an option so now I’m telling you. You’re taking a bath.” He picked you up and walked towards the bathroom. “I’ll get the water going. Do you think you can manage making it from the toilet to the tub without me?”

Again, you shrugged which was quickly becoming one of his biggest pet peeves. He groaned, “One for yes, two for no. No more fucking shrugging.”

You nodded and held up one finger. “Alright, that wasn’t that hard was it?”

Without waiting for an answer he knew he wasn’t going to get he started the water and left you to it.

He went out to the car to grab the backpack the mini might kid had packed for you. Then into his room to grab you a clean shirt. He was going to leave the items outside the bathroom door until he heard a thump followed by a groan.

“Y/n? Did you fall down?” A very long pause later and you hit the side of the tub once. “Okay do you need help getting up?” Another long pause before you hit the side twice. “Are you sure?” He desperately wanted you to say no. Not to sound like a perv, but he’d love to get a quick peek at you.

Two hits on the tub sounded. “Okay, I’m coming in.” He opened the door almost too quickly. There you were sitting on the floor, back against the tub, completely naked. He had expected you to try and hide yourself from view, but was shocked when you practically reached for him, baring your entire chest for him to drink in.

He stopped for a moment before picking you up. “I’m not going to pick you up like I usually do. Instead I’m going to help you stand, and hold you while you try to get in yourself. We gotta start working on those legs.” You looked nervous but nodded anyways.

He hooked his hands under your armpits and pulled against him in standing position. His pinkies barley brushing the outside of your breasts and even that little bit drove him crazy. But he contained himself. The last thing he needed was you randomly activating your quirk and figuring out what a horn dog he is.

You weakly attempted to raise your right leg high enough to get into the tub. You were almost there, you almost had it. “That’s it, you’re doing so well. Just a little more, come on you can do it.” Whether you knew it or not, your ass was pushing back into Dabi’s crotch and he wasn’t going to make it much longer. So he lifted you a little higher making it easier for you to step in. “OKAY, I think one leg is good enough progress for now.” He sat the rest of you in gently before quickly turning away calling over his shoulder, “Alright, I’ll be back in… ten minutes to help you back out.”

You waited until he was gone to let a small giggle out. It honestly took you by surprise. It was the first time you had made a noise that wasn’t out of pain in a while. But just remembering the blush of his cheeks when you reached for him was enough to have you smile to yourself.

Before all of this happened to you were no stranger to being naked. In fact, you loved it. Maybe it was some weird side effect of your quirk. But you loved being naked, being intimate, having sex. To you there was no better bliss. You craved it. Your quirk allowed you all the control you could ever want, but there was something so intoxicating about giving that control over completely to someone else. To be praised, to be worshipped, to be adored.

Well at least that was the way you were before. Before you weren’t allowed to touch anyone, or look at them, or… speak to them. What if you were different now? What if being controlled for so long, being forced to do things against your will… what if it changed you?

The thought made you sad. You briefly considered testing the waters with Dabi, but quickly shook that from your head. And it wasn’t even the fact he was a villain, as much as you hate to admit it, you’d slept with villains before. But could you even consider him a villain anymore. You could see what Todoroki had meant by saying he was neither hero nor villain.

No, the biggest reason you needed to keep your hands off Dabi is because he was nice enough to take you in. You don’t need to jeopardize your safety just to curb your cravings.

You quickly scrubbed your body clean and did your best to wash your hair, but it was a nightmare. Your hair was crazy long now and the knots and tangles were just impossible to get through. You wined in frustration as your fingers yet again got stuck.

“You know I could always shave your head, I’m sure you could pull it off.” You stuck your tongue out at him as he handed you a brush. “Better watch who you’re sticking that tongue out at.” He hesitated, “Arms up, time to get out.”

You felt like a child, but you obeyed without protest. Earning you a “good girl” that sent shivers down your spine. “Hm? Do you like it when I praise you?”

You shrugged and avoided eye contact and you could feel the growl rip through is chest. “What did I say about fucking shrugging?”

You bit your lip and pulled yourself closer to him so he couldn’t see your blushing face.

Like a sack of potatoes, you were tossed onto to the bed. He tossed you a pair of clean underwear and one of his shirts that would easily come down to your knees. Once you were dressed, he roughly pulled you to the edge of the bed and sat between your legs.

Your heart rate spiked, and you let out an excited gasp. His hand smoothed up your thigh, “Relax, I’m just putting a new bandage on your hip. Don’t get so excited.” He examined the shallow wound and you winced. It took everything in him not to place a kiss right over your wound. He’d made that mark on you. It would definitely scar and as twisted as it sounded… he liked that.

He started to tape the new bandage down. One of his hands rubbed the inside of your thigh, while the other made sure the bandage was secure. God he just wanted to bite into the soft flesh in front of him. He took a deep breath to steady himself, but he was absolutely not prepared for… was you winding your fingers through his white locks.

“Y/n… what?” Your fingers tightened causing him to groan and let lose. He started to kiss the meaty part of your thigh, biting ever few kisses drawing sweet sounds from your lips that made him wonder what your voice sounded like. He made his way up to your hip and kissed right above the bandage before licking up from you belly button and up your sternum, pushing your shirt… well his shirt up as he went. He grabbed one of your tits in one hand while he sucked on the other nipple. Your hips bucked up as his hand traveled south. As soon as his hand started to sneak past your underwear something in you snapped.

You couldn’t do this. Not now. Something wasn’t right. You felt trapped under his body weight, you couldn’t breathe. Too much, you weren’t ready.

You pushed at his hand and whined until finally he got the message. He stopped and looked at your confused eyes, “Shit… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I-I guess I misread that one.” He pulled your shirt back down and knelt in front on you on the bed. “I guess we should set some rules huh?”

Rules… rules… follow the rules.

You yanked your gaze down to stare at your hands that you had folded in your lap. Don’t look, don’t talk, don’t touch.

He reached for one of your hands, but you yanked it back shaking your head. “Hey look at me.” You continued to stare into your lap. He swore under his breath, “Please… look at me. I need to know what I did or said that freaked you out so bad. This is what I mean when I said we need rules-“ You flinched. “Oh is the word rules?”

You started to shrug before you remembered he wouldn’t like that. You lifted a shaky hand and picked up your journal and handed it to him open to the first page. You snuck a glance at his expression as he read over them. His face was expressionless as he read over your list of rules. “Hm… sounds kinky.”

He looked around for something to write with before coming to sit next to you, making sure to give you plenty of space. “Okay so how about instead we have laws?” You gave a quick shrug before nodding in agreement. He narrowed his eyes at you, “And law number one. No fucking shrugging.”

He handed the pen to you, “You’re turn. Write something down.” You gave him a questioning look, “Don’t worry about it, if I don’t like it, I’ll just draw a line through it. We’re brainstorming here.”

You wrote down “No drugs.” You heard him groan but he nodded anyways.

“Okay fine but then you have to make eye contact when talking to me. Doesn’t matter if it’s verbal or not.”

You went on like that for a while until you had a new set of “laws”

You had agreed to workouts in the pool to get your strength back up and he agreed to try and learn sign language with you.

The last law he added however was “I will not initiate the sexy time without written or verbal consent.”

You rolled your eyes and went to push him away but he dodged you easily enough. He quickly stood up throwing you over his shoulder. “Alright enough of that. We have a long day ahead of us.”

You helped him make breakfast while he explained that this house was one of many that he owned under different aliases. This one was the most secluded and had the best security system.

You were still picking at your pancakes when he sat next to you at the kitchen island bringing a laptop with him. “I’m not helping you down from here until you eat every last bite. Law number 7- Eat three full meals a day. Need to put some meet on those bones.”

He pulled up a website that had a video queued up that said introduction to sign language. “Okay before we get going 1 for tea, 2 for coffee.”

Your eyes lit up as you held up 2 fingers and scurried to grab your journal. ‘Can you put some milk in it?’ It had been so long since you had coffee and the thought had you bouncing with excitement.

He read it and gave you a thumbs up. “Go ahead and start the video, I’m just over here.”

And that’s how you set into your routine. Every day you’d sleep in until you decided to get up. Eat a big breakfast. Work on sign language. Eat Lunch. Do some kind of workout in the pool. Relax and watch TV. Eat dinner. Take a bath. Go to bed.

You did this every day for the past two weeks and you could already tell a difference. You and Dabi had learned a few basics in sign. Only a few words, but it was a start. But Dabi’s favorite part was helping you walk.

Not that he didn’t like carrying you, but this was just as much fun. He’d hold you under the armpits from behind and he’d let you stand on his feet like a child. You still couldn’t walk on your own, but you were so close. Every day you felt stronger and you knew it was only a matter of time.

Today marks sixteen days that you had been here. You watched as Dabi cleaned up the rest of breakfast. You frowned as you thought about how much he did for you and how little you gave in return. You hadn’t noticed him walk over to you until his hand was lifting your chin to look at him. “Pool time?”

You nodded and signed back ~Pool time~. You reached your arms up to be picked up and he easily complied, no worse than a trained dog.

“You’ve gained weight. I can tell.”

You looked horrified as you slapped his shoulder. ~rude~

He chuckled, “Hey don’t get all huffy about it. It’s a good thing. You were way too skinny before. You looked like a strong breeze would blow you over and break all of your bones.” He stopped at the edge of the pool giving you a wicked look. “Now you’re starting to look healthy again. Healthy enough for me to do this and not feel bad about it.”

He tossed you into the pool, clothes and all. You sputtered to the surface but didn’t have to struggle long before he was behind you leading you to the shallow end. “You’re fine. Almost there, don’t be so dramatic.”

He led you to the wall you usually hold on to for your exercises and let you go. You growled as you flipped him off. Idiot doesn’t need to know sign language to understand that one.

You pulled your wet shirt off and tossed it over to one of the lounge chairs. Leaving you in just a bra and underwear, which is how you normally did these exercises. Dabi had requested the heroes send a bathing suit in the next care package, but it hadn’t arrived yet.

He reached around your middle section and pulled you away from the wall after you had done a couple sets of squats and leg kicks. “Okay now lets see how you do without the wall.” He turned you around to face him and slowly backed away only holding your elbows now. “Okay now lets take a lap around the shallow end shall we?”

At first your steps were more like tiny shuffles. “It’s gonna take us all damn day if you don’t start taking bigger steps. Come on you can do it. Pick those feet up!”

You gave him a harsh glare. He knew you couldn’t fight back right now because your hands were too busy gripping his arms for support.

You started taking larger steps and then larger ones and then eventually you had made it almost all the way around. Dabi stepped back and completely. “Okay just a few more steps. I think you can do them on you own. Come on baby girl. Just a few steps. You can do it.”

You nodded enthusiastically, of course you could. It was just a few steps. You could do this. You reached your hands out to the side and took your first step by yourself. Your eyes lit up at the feeling. Sure, it was only in the pool, but that was progress! “That’s it! Good girl, keep going!” You reached for him as you took another step, followed by another and another and then suddenly he was picking you up. “Hell yeah! Atta girl! Good job. I think that earned you some kind of reward.” He gave the top of your head a quick kiss as he started to carry you out of the pool.

Your head was singing with his praises, and your body was buzzing with adrenaline after crossing such a huge milestone. He carried you to his room where he pulled out another shirt for you to wear. “Okay so about that rewar-“

He was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. His eyes went dark. No one was supposed to know where this place was. He quickly picked you up and sprinted to the office. There was a secret false wall panel that led to a saferoom. He had told you of its existence in case he ever needed to hide you, but you hadn’t actually seen it. He was in the process of opening up the wall when a familiar flash of blonde hair showed on the security monitor. You pinched his shoulder and pointed.

He looked at what you were pointing at and groaned. “What the fuck is he doing here?”

***************************

tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime @klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs

[bluewhale52]

My Fantasy (M)

Summary: Namjoon has a fantasy he wants to fulfill. You’re more than happy to do it for him.

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

Genre: smut, kinda angtsy and kinda fluffy? Namjoon and OC are friends with benefits

Word count: 4.1k

Rating: 18+/ M/ NSFW. Minors are not welcome here.

Warning: boss - secretary roleplay, breast and nipple play, oral (m & f receiving), face fucking, deep throating, vaginal fingering, unprotected penetrative sex (pls practice safe sex!), multiple orgasm, degradation (Joon calls OC slut a couple of times) soft dom! Joon if you squint, sweet Joon, big tiddie Joon and big biceps Joon because what’s a girl to do when he’s been flaunting it?

Also ON era for Joon reference.

Enjoy, hope you like it 💜

You twirl in front of the floor length mirror in your walk-in wardrobe, and give yourself a satisfied smile. 

He’d love this, you think, that you’re wearing just as what he’s asked. The light blue lingerie set is hidden under a cute, lacy shirt and a flowy skirt. You had offered to wear a shorter skirt, one that gives a peep of your ass when you bend over in the slightest. But he refused it- he wanted to leave more to the imagination. And you gladly accept his explanation. It’ll make tonight more fun. You’ll just have to be extra flirty and playful with him.

He arrives five minutes early than the arranged time, as always. You give your place a last look- clean without any sign of personal photos or items, candles with sweet smells of cinnamon-vanilla lit and positioned strategically in your living room. Checking your makeup and your hair one last time, your body tingles as you head to the door.

His tall, lean body fills the doorway easily. He’s grown his hair longer since you last saw him, and you like it. Shaggy strands reaching his eyes, the sides long enough to tuck behind his ears. You’ll have fun tugging his hair tonight. Looking further south, you notice his chest seems broader too, filling his black sweater, making your mouth water. Oh, you’ll have fun scraping your nails on his pecs, all right. 

“Namjoon,” you greet him with a sweet, smile, rising on your toes to kiss his cheek. 

“Hi _______ ,” he smiles back and gives you a hug. His large hands pressing your back, sending shivers down your spine. He steps into your apartment, and takes a deep breath. “Smells nice in here.”

You hum smugly. “I knew you’d like it.” 

“I like what you’re wearing too.” He looks you up and down. “Thanks for letting me pick out your outfit tonight.”

Not just punctual, he’s always so polite and sweet too. That's why he’s your favourite in your little black book.

You twirl for him, your skirt rising slightly above your knees as your turn. “Pretty.” you hear him murmur. But from the way he looks at you, you know pretty is not the only thing he thinks of you now. 

You link your fingers with his. “Wine?” you offer.

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather drink you up.” He licks his lips.

Your breath hitches at his action. You lead him into your expansive living room, and direct him to sit on your leather sofa, across from your large flat screen TV. It’s a calculated move; he’ll be able to see his and your reflection there. 

Namjoon settles himself on your sofa, and you stand between his spread legs. His hands reaches for the hem of your skirt, fingering it gingerly but with great anticipation. You sway your hips slightly, coyly, making your skirt floats playfully over his hands.

“Are you teasing me, little one?” Your skin burns at his pet name for you.

“Do you want me to tease you, Daddy?” He groans. Still standing, you lean forward towards him, arching your back slightly, to push your breasts to his face.

“Hmmm,” he meets you halfway, you can feel his hard chest against your tummy, he is eye level with your breasts, and his hands have moved up to grope your ass over your skirt. And your panties, you can feel them getting wetter by the second.

Namjoon clears his throat. “Do you mind, if tonight you call me Mr Kim?” he asks shyly. 

Now you are sure your panties are ruined. 

“Not at all. If that’s what you want.” You tuck his hair behind his ear. Yes, you definitely prefer his longer hair.

“It’s just... it’s been a really shitty month at work, and uh... I’ve fantasized about it for weeks...” he trails off.

You run your fingers through his hair. “Ah, I get it. You want me to be an innocent secretary so you can take advantage of me?” You tease him.

He lets our a nervous laughter, burying his face on your chest. Your heart is beating so fast, you’re sure he can feel it.

“So cliche, isn't it?” He looks up at you. God, you are so weak for this man.

You slide your fingers from his hair down to his shoulders. “Oh, Mr Kim,” you demurely say, “your shoulders are so tense. You must be so stressed out from work.” 

“I am, Miss _____ ,” he mouths against your chest, you feel his hot breath through your shirt. “Help me take my mind off work?” His hands are still over your skirt, rubbing up and down your the back of your thighs. 

You moan when he suddenly rubs harder, dragging your skirt material up towards your ass. “How can I help you, sir?” You meet his eyes, your voice breathy. This part is not an act, you are truly desperate for him.

He leans back on the sofa, and you almost whine out loud when his hands leave your legs. “You can start by showing me your pretty panties.” His eyes stare at your core.

Putting on a shy smile, you reach the hem of your skirt and slowly pulls it up, until your light blue satin panties are in full view for Namjoon. He exhales steadily, his firm gaze makes you ache for him even more.

“You like what you see, Mr Ki- Ah!” You moan out loud as his finger slides between your legs, pressing onto your slit over your panties. He drags the tip lazily forward, but stops just before reaching your clit.

“Why don’t you turn around, let me see it from the back?” You obediently do as he asks. “Bend over, put your hands on the coffee table.” 

You suppress your moan as you get into position. With his legs between yours, he wedges you to stand with feet apart, spread as wide as possible. You bend forward, resting your elbows on the coffee table, silently thanking your daily yoga regiments.

Namjoon flips your skirt over your bottom, and you can hear him shuffling forward. You look up to your TV, seeing your wanton self reflected on the screen. You gasp and close your eyes as you feel Namjoon’s nose poking at your sex. 

“You smell so good,” you shudder at his breath over your slit. “And you are so fucking wet. Did I make you wet, Miss _____ ?”

You whimper. “Yes, Mr Kim, you always make me so wet.”

Namjoon flattens his tongue on your panties. You nearly wail at the sensation. “Mr Kim!” Your body jerks forward, but somehow you manage to grind yourself back at his mouth.

His fingers are at the waistband of your panties. “Take them off.”

You straighten up and quickly pull your panties down, your back still to Namjoon, and his hands bunching your skirt around your waist. Then you spread your legs again, and you bend forward, slowly, giving him a full view of your bare pussy and ass.

You swear you hear him whine before he roughly grabs your ass and spread your asscheeks. His mouth immediately latches onto your cunt, tongue greedily pokes into your dripping hole, before it moves upwards to the skin between your pussy and your asshole. You sob his name out loud and your whole body shudders at his ministrations. 

“Taste so good,” Namjoon says between licks. “I’m going to eat you out all night.” Lick. “Gonna make you cum on my tongue over and over.” Lick. “Gonna drink you up.” Lick. 

“Mr Kim, Mr Kim...” you chant his name like a prayer. “I’m so close...”

“Already?” Amusement clear in his voice. “I’ve only just started, little one. Such a slut, are you, impatient to cum for me?”

“Please, Mr Kim...” you beg, when you feel Namjoon’s mouth leaving your soaking core. “I want to cum so bad. For you.” You look up and catch your reflection, and Namjoon’s, on the TV. You look so desperate. And Namjoon’s reflection smirks at you.

He returns to your dripping cunt, starts to lap up at your juices even more hungrily. His large hands are on your ass cheeks still, fingers digging, moulding your flesh this way and that.

Your clit is throbbing painfully, you can’t believe he hasn’t even touch it since you started. Your legs are shaking more now, you feel the lusty tautness all over your body. Namjoon’s tongue moves up and circles your puckered hole, making you cry out his name. Then he quickly goes back to your wet hole, tongue-fucking you to your orgasm and through it.

Namjoon patiently waits till you come down from your high. He helps you stand up, his hands rubbing all over your body, easing the achiness from being bent over for an extended period of time. 

“Are you OK, little one?” He envelops you from behind. You sigh as you feel your skirt floats down to cover your bare sex and ass. You nod.

“That was amazing, Mr Kim,” you answer, still breathless. “You make me feel so good.”

“I love making you feel good, you deserve it.” Groaning against your hair, Namjoon cups your breasts. The lace on your shirt feels rough against his hands. He can't wait to feel your satin bra underneath. 

“I’ve fantasised this so many times, little one. Spreading you on my desk, eating your pretty little cunt.” He leans down to nibble on your ear. “You hiding under my desk, sucking me off. Seeing these tits bounce as you ride me in my office. Fucking you against the wall in the restroom.”

You lean back against Namjoon, your juices continue leaking down your thighs. Your heart is pounding so hard against your chest and Namjoon feels it, his hands kneading your breasts harder. You press yourself closer to him, his hard cock poking against your lower back and you drool at the feel of it.

Turning around, you palm and stroke Namjoon’s cock over his slacks. “Can I suck you, Mr Kim?” 

Namjoon shakes his head. “I told you little one, I want to make you cum over and over with my tongue tonight.”

“But you’re so hard,” you pout cutely. Namjoon taps your nose.

“You'll get my cock soon enough. After I make you cum again. OK, little one?”

You let Namjoon move you, to sit you on the sofa, your ass close to the edge. He kneels between your legs, instructing you to lift the front of your skirt.  Once again bared to him, he swallows thickly. He breathes in the smell of your sex, his mind drunk for you. He can’t get enough. You always make him want more.

Namjoon grabs your legs and lifting them to form an erotic V. You feel yourself pulsate down there, squeezing out arousal to drip down onto your skirt underneath. He dives in greedily.

You’re pretty sure you're howling as Namjoon makes out with your sex for the second time tonight. You’ve never met anyone who loves giving oral as much as Namjoon does, or anyone who is so good at it. His mouth and tongue continuously draw out more and more of your sweet nectar. He gulps it down like a man starved.   

Namjoon can feel your thighs shaking again. He doesn’t want you to cum yet. He removes his mouth, and you are about to protest when you see his mouth and chin glistening with your arousal. Raising himself up till he is face to face to you, Namjoon replaces his mouth with his fingers. You gasp as he slides two fingers in smoothly, eased by your natural lubrication.

He kisses you as he fingers you. And your chest contracts at every movement his lips and tongue against yours. You can taste yourself, but you taste him too. Coffee, and something spicy. But there's more. You’ve hardly ever kissed during your sessions; a little peck here and there to say hello and goodbye, but never this kind of kiss when you’re both chasing pleasures, and never this.... passionate.

Namjoon pulls away, panting, breaking the kiss. He looks as affected as you are. “Unbutton your blouse.” He gruffly orders. The squelching sound his fingers in your wet hole fill the air. You undo the top three button of your top then he stops you. He can see the top of your breasts, and the light blue satin material supporting your globe is peeking out. “One more button.” 

Namjoon feels weak. You, his sweet girl, are spread open before him like a goddamn buffet. He rests his head between your breasts, feeling your heartbeat on his skin, crazily in sync with his, while his fingers are wrapped tightly within your walls. He licks the top of your breast, just above the bra. Your skin breaks into goosebumps. 

Namjoon inserts a third finger, and you squeal. He bites down and sucks on your skin as you clench tightly at the new intrusion. Your fingers find their way to his hair, tugging his strands as he continues to leave marks on your breast.

He pushes down the cups of your bra, freeing your breasts, then he sucks your nipples alternately. With every hard tug from his mouth, you close in sharply on his fingers. 

“You feel so good, fuck. Why do you always feel so good?” He mumbles against your globes. 

You’re rendered speechless. The assault of his fingers and his mouth on your body is deliciously sinful. “J- Jo... Mr Kim... please...” you beg. You want to cum. That’s all you want right now, to cum for Namjoon.

Namjoon returns to your core, wrapping his mouth around your needy clit, his tongue immediately goes into overdrive flicking it. He adds a fourth finger into you, and his free hand reaches to your nipple to continue tugging and pinching it. You throw your head back, your hands pressing Namjoon’s head tighter onto your weeping sex, and soon your body convulses, your second orgasm hitting you like a truck.

Namjoon lets go of your clit and your nipple, but his four fingers are still pumping into you, albeit at a slower pace. He kisses you again, his body pressing you deeper into your sofa. “Sweet, so sweet,” he says between kisses, “my little one.”

There it is again, the squeeze around your heart. You break the kiss, in need for air, and Namjoon rests his forehand on yours. Slowly, he pulls his fingers out and licks his thumb and ring finger.  His pointer and middle finger, he offers them to you.

Eagerly, you part your lips and suck his fingers in. Swirling your tongue around them, you close your eyes as you savour your own taste. Namjoon stands up, taking you along with him. He smiles at your state of undress. 

“Bedroom?” You offer, tucking your breasts back into your bra. You leave your top unbuttoned. Namjoon nods.

Once inside your room, you sit on the edge of the bed, Namjoon standing before you between your legs. He strokes your hair tenderly as you work his belt and his slacks, then his boxers.

His long, heavy cock greets you. “May I, Mr Kim?”

“Of course, little one.” At his permission, you kiss the little slit at the tip, sucking the precum off. Then you run your tongue up and down his shaft, before you close your lips around the head to start taking him in.

Relaxing your jaws, you let his length slides deeper, until you feel the head meeting your throat. You whimper, and Namjoon rubs your cheek encouragingly. “Relax, little one, you can take it.”

Controlling your breathing, you push yourself to take the rest of him in, until your nose bumps his skin. Namjoon hisses above you, cursing and praising you at the same time. Wrapping your lips tighter, you pull out leisurely, before taking his hot throbbing member back in. 

Namjoon watches you deep-throating him a few more times, enjoying your wet mouth, before he commands you to grab onto his hips. You follow him obediently, and he wraps your hair around his hand. “Ready, little one?” You nod. “Remember to pinch me if it gets too much.” You nod again, unable to speak as his cock still fills your mouth.

Without warning, he holds your head steady as he starts to fuck your mouth roughly. You close your eyes, focusing your throat and mouth to relax as his cock pistons furiously. As Namjoon moans above you, you close your eyes and tears start streaking down your cheek. Your saliva drools out with every thrust, your hands grip his hips more tightly. But you don’t pinch him. 

Instead you open your eyes and look up at him. He moans as he stares down your face, his face scrunching up. “God, little one, your mouth is a sin.” You moan against his pulsing member. His hips are starting to stutter, and with a curse he pulls out suddenly.

Still holding your hair tightly, he frenziedly pumps himself. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, ready to receive him. Crying out your name, his seed spurts out, painting your lower face.

Once empty, Namjoon leans over you, his head on your shoulder as he calms down. “Joon,” you drop your role-play act, “your sweater will get dirty.” You try to inch yourself away to avoid staining his clothes with his cum on your face. 

“Mmmm, don’t care.” He mumbles. You chuckle and gently push him onto the bed. Opening his eyes, he watch you as you lick his cum off your lips. “So hot, you always look so hot with my cum on you.”

You see his flacid cock twitch slightly. “Is Mr Kim all de-stressed now?” you coo at him, playing with his hair.

“Not until I get to feel that sweet cunt, little one. Strip for me, make me hard again.”

You stand up, and seductively start to unbutton the rest of your blouse. Once it’s on the floor, you unclasp your bra and hook it around his neck to pull him closer to you for a kiss. He then mouths at your bare chest, but you tut at him. You help him take off his sweater and the shirt underneath, and you finally get to run your hands over his hard pecs. You drag your fingers over his skin, and he grabs your waist. Your skirt is the remaining article on your body. You pull it down, finally fully naked before Namjoon.

You take a step back, out of Namjoon’s hold. You glide your hands from your hips, up the sides of your body, then to cup your breasts. “You like what you see, Mr Kim?” Teasingly, you move your hands down your stomach, then back up around your bosom, to your neck, gathering up your hair, holding it at the top of your head.

Namjoon is hard again, from watching you feeling yourself up. Once his cock is standing at full attention, you step back to the space between his legs. “How do you want me to fuck you, little one?”

“Let me ride you, Mr Kim.”

Namjoon moves back to sit himself against the headboard. You crawl on the bed, towards him. Positioning yourself above him, he cups your pussy. “Hmm, still wet for me, little one.”

“Always, Mr Kim. Only you can make me this wet.” You’re shocked at your own sincerity. But it is true- lately he’s all you can think about.

Bracing yourself on his shoulders, you let him guide his cock into your hole. You sigh as he breaches you, his hands firm on your waist, helping you sinking further down on him. You wince as he bottoms out, he always feels so deep in you. “So full, Mr Kim.”

“I love stretching you little one,” he nuzzles against your neck. “Your tight pussy always takes my fat cock so well.”

You start grinding over him, rolling your hips around while you tighten your inner walls to massage his cock inside you. Satisfied with the groans you elicit from his mouth, you start to move up and down. Little bounces at first, and soon you become greedy. You work your thigh muscles to lift you higher, then to lose yourself down his length. 

With every movement, your breasts jiggle right in front of Namjoon. The look on his face spurs you on. Picking up your pace, you ride him harder and faster. Your bedroom is soon filled with the sounds of your panting, Namjoon’s groans, and the slapping of your skin against his.

Namjoon can’t take his eyes off of you. His eyes keep darting from the gradually fucked out expression on your face, to your juicy tits jumping wildly before him, and to his cock slipping so smoothly in and out of you. He is drunk on your sight, your smell, your touch. How his cock is so slippery, coated by your mouthwatering extract. How you breathe his name as you chase your peak.

Namjoon hand slides up to your neck and he closes his fingers around you. Squeezing slightly, you gasp, losing your momentum, and Namjoon slams his hips upwards into you. Your eyes widened, your mouth letting out a silent scream. He pounds into you a few more times, each time harder than the previous one, and he releases your throat once he hears you sob.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and tightly to him. “Good girl, such a good girl for me, little one.” He praises you. “Such a good slut for me and my cock.” You mewl.

“I want to fuck you stupid. To ruin you.” Namjoon holds your waist again. His hips thrust upwards mercilessly into you. “To make you want no other cock but mine. I want you to cream for my cock and my cock only.”

You start to cry, he is hitting so deep within you, you’re sure he will split you in half. You grab onto his biceps, feeling the muscles tensing as he continues to pump into you.

“Miste- ohhh! Ooooh! Namjo...” you babble incoherently. The pleasure of being impaled is turning your mind into mush. “Clo.. ooh so close...”

Namjoon sucks your neck. “So am I. little one.” He moans pitifully. “Cum with me, ______,  please.”

After only a few more thrusts, your body jerks as you reach your climax. You hug Namjoon as you convulses violently around him, sending him towards his orgasm too. He explodes inside you, shooting his cum deep into you. 

Clinging to each other, your sweaty bodies sticky as your breathing slows down and the ringing in your ears disappear. You open your eyes, to find Namjoon’s still closed, and you cup his face tenderly. Exhausted, you nestle yourself in the crook of is neck. His hand lazily rubs little circles on your lower back.

You and Namjoon stay in that position, god knows how long. You’ve never cuddled like this before, this is a new level of intimacy foreign yet not unwelcome. You force yourself to pull out of his embrace, before it gets too far.

Plopping yourself to sit next to him, you break the silence. “That was amazing, Namjoon. The best s-”

“Let me stay the night.” Namjoon cuts you off. Your heart stops. "Let me be more than just a fuck and go.”

You gulp audibly. This is against your agreement, five months ago, when you and Namjoon entered into a mutually beneficial arrangement. No feelings, just sex. That was what you both agreed on. He was just to be a name on your list to call when you feel like it. How did it become more than that?

You tear up. You can’t help it. You can’t deny it felt different tonight. 

Namjoon rubs his hands over his face. “I’m sorry, I should’ve kept my mouth shut.” He gets up from your bed. “I thought there was something. I thought I felt something. Obviously I was wrong. It was just my fantasy.”

Dejected, he starts to pick up his clothes. You jump out and stop him. “Joon,” you hug him, as tight as you can, unwilling to let him leave. “It was my fantasy too.”

Namjoon freezes at your confession. Tilting your face up, you look into his eyes. “Stay the night. Please.” you plead.

Dropping his clothes, he cups your ass, and he hoists you up. You automatically wrap your legs around him, your arms around his neck. Carrying you to your bathroom, he whispers, “My sweet little one. My one and only.”

You whisper back, “My Joonie. My love.”

Published 12012021

[deceitfuldevil]

Do I Wanna Know?

Pietro Maximoff X Reader

Summary: You and Pietro’s friendship could best be described as a relationship that never was, it was constant flirting that you both brushed off as just a very close friendship. A friendship so close that sometimes you flirt with others, so when feelings get hurt; dynamics are crushed. But those who are meant for each other will always come crawling back. Vaguely based off the song “Do I Wanna Know?” by the Arctic Monkeys.

Warnings: Slight angst, kissing, fluff, all that :)

Word Count: 2.3K

It all started when you first joined the avengers, a few months after the battle of Sokovia. Tony had a last minute thing with Pepper and assigned Pietro Maximoff to show you around the compound, which he initially whined over. Not wanting to do anything more than stay in bed on his day off, he begged Wanda to take over for him. She agreed under the circumstance that he’d make dinner for a week.

Sitting on the couch watching whatever was on TV at the moment, Pietro munched on some chips, enjoying his day off to its fullest extent. He heard some chattering behind him and turned his head to see his sister Wanda and another woman with her head turned the other way, who he could only assume was the newest member to the team. Waving a small hello to his sister he turned back around and continued his program, but of course Wanda wouldn’t let him off that easy.

“Ahem,” Wanda said, clearing her throat as she now stood next to the couch Pietro sat on with the newest recruit, you.

“Y/n, this is my brother Pietro. Pietro, this is the newest addition to the Avengers, Y/n.” she said with a smile, mentally slapping her brother for being so lazy. Pietro gave you and Wanda a half-assed glance ready to wave you off, but he did a double take when he saw you. Choking slightly on his chips he stood up abruptly and brushed himself off, extending his hand out to yours.

You started to feel hot under his gaze as you gladly accepted his hand and shook it; he had a firm grasp that made you want to melt into the ground.

“So, what’s your thing printcessa?” He asked smoothly, slipping his hand out of yours, making you frown slightly as the loss of contact. But then you quirked your head to the side, not understanding his question.

“He means, what powers do you have?” Wanda interjected, clarifying his question.

“Oh you know, telekinesis, super strength, some healing abilities, the usual.” you joked

“Hey we could’ve really used you a few months ago during the battle of Sokovia. This asshole nearly got himself killed!” Wanda said, raising her eyebrows at her brother.

“Ahh sister you worry too much, I was fine!” Pietro insisted, waving her off.

“Sure you were. . . we’re going to finish this tour now okay?” Wanda said, turning around and getting ready to show you the rest of the compound. But of course Pietro had something to say about that.

“And take this gorgeous new Avenger away from me? You know Tony assigned me to show her around, right? So rude of you to just steal her away like that. . .” Pietro said, rushing to your side and taking your hand, pulling you along.

“I thought you wanted to-”

“Sorry! TV is too loud, I can’t hear you!” Pietro said running off with you, making you giggle.

The rest of the tour Pietro slipped in little compliments and flirty touches; in fact, the rest of your time there was practically the same. You had an innate attraction to Pietro, and he was drawn to you from the moment he laid eyes on you. But yet, nothing ever actually happened between the two of you, which quite frankly annoyed the hell out of the team. Having to constantly watch you two flirt and cuddle as if it was nothing was borderline ridiculous.

It’s been four months since you’ve joined the avengers and your tension with Pietro was higher than ever, and with another successful mission down Tony decided to host another one of his famous parties. You saw this as the perfect opportunity to look irresistible for Pietro, but when you walked out onto the dance floor in your sexiest dress and saw Pietro at the bar with some blonde bimbo caressing his muscles, and you damn near lost it.

Rationally, you had no right to be angry at all. You and Pietro weren’t an item, you never were. But seeing him in such close proximity to some girl who's name he probably didn’t even know practically made steam come out of your ears. You disregarded your fellow teammates saying hello to you as you entered the party and the compliments thrown your way as you made your way towards Pietro, ready to give him a piece of your mind.

But you were too late, no more than 10 feet away from Pietro the nasty blonde he was with pulled him in for a sloppy kiss. You watched in horror and pain as you felt your heart break into a million and one pieces. You rushed off to your room before any tears could spill from your eyes, staying there for the rest of the night as the party raged on, only imagining the worst in your head about Pietro and that bitch he was with.

What you didn’t see was Pietro promptly pushing the blonde away from him, and Wanda finding her brother soon after slapping him across the face.

“What the hell, Pietro?!” Wanda shouted at her brother, drawing attention from the others at the party.

“Suka! What was that for?!” He exclaimed, holding the left side of his face in pain.

“That was for kissing that girl when you know Y/n’s been pinning after you for months!” She yelled, not caring about the excess attention from the others.

“She doesn’t feel that way about me. We've been over this a thousand times Wanda!” He fired back, anger and hurt lacing his voice.

“Yes she does! Did you forget I can read minds?” She said rolling her eyes, a little red glowing in them. Pietro got quiet and turned away from his sister.

“You better go and apologize to her and tell her how you really feel before she changes her mind after what she just saw!” Wanda pointed out, causing her brother to rush off, leaving streaks of blue in his place.

You sat with your back pressed to your door as you sobbed quietly, jumping when you heard a knock behind you.

“Y/n?” You heard Pietro call out. You sighed and rolled your eyes.

“I don’t have any condoms Pietro, go ask Sam.” You said bitterly.

Standing on the other side of the door your words were like knives in Pietro’s chest; he wanted to respond and tell you how he really felt, but after your harsh comment he turned away and went back to his room. Wanda visited him when the party was over and he gave her the same bitter attitude you had given him hours ago.

“I don’t know what part of her head you looked into but she definitely doesn’t feel the same way, so thanks a lot.” Pietro said harshly, making Wanda leave without another word.

Things were a lot different in the compound after that night. You and Pietro were no longer lovey-dovey, now holding nothing but contempt towards one another. It changed the whole dynamic of the team, none of them knowing how to act around you two now, or even what happened.

It had been about three weeks since you and Pietro last spoke to each other, and here you were at 3am sitting on the couch crying while you ate ice straight out of the carton. You sat silently as the tears streamed down your face, jumping when you felt a hand on your shoulder. Turning around you saw a very tired looking Wanda.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” You asked quietly.

“No, but your thoughts did. I never knew someone’s thoughts could be so loud when they’re heartbroken.” Wanda said, sitting down next to you.

“Pfshh, I’m not heartbroken! What in God's name are you talking about?” You said casually, pushing your emotions back down as you set the container of ice cream down on the table in front of you.

“You know, he’s torn up too.” Wanda said, turning to face you.

“And you expect me to believe that why?” You asked, neither of you noticing the new presence that stood in the kitchen.

“Did both of you magically forget I can read minds?” She asked with a laugh, making you feel small.

“Okay well even if he did have feelings for me at one point there’s no way he still feels that way. If he did he wouldn’t have let that girl kiss him at the party,” you said bitterly.

“You have no idea how much he regrets that, and for the record that blonde kissed him. He pushed her off after you ran away.” Wanda explained, putting more hope than you’d cared to admit in your heart.

“He’ll come crawling back to you soon enough, I promise.” she said with a small laugh, patting your back as she got up and left you alone on the couch. Wondering if your feelings for Pietro flowed both ways.

A little more than a week had passed since that night as you were constantly tormented by the question, “Do I wanna know?” because if Pietro did feel the same way towards you at one point, how would the recent events change how he feels for you now?

However now was not the time to dwell on the question racking your head; now you were on a mission with the rest of the team getting some much needed intel from what you thought was an abandoned HYDRA base. But when gunfire erupted you immediately took cover and soon followed Steve’s orders to fall back and head to the quinjet. Running back you tripped and fell face first into the dirt. Getting up you winced as you looked around and saw the last person you’d want hurt.

“Pietro’s shot!” You scream into your comms as you crawled next to him as he laid up against a tree, falling in and out of consciousness. You started to cry worrying your powers wouldn’t be enough as you placed your hands over his wounds, mustering all of the power you could. You thought all hope was lost until you heard a loud gasp as Pietro grabbed onto you and held you close to his chest.

“It’s okay Pietro, I’m here, you’re alright,” you whispered as you started to feel very tired. He ran his fingers through your hair as he stared down at you, in awe of your abilities. You looked back at him with tired eyes.

“I’ll always come crawling back to you,” you said as sleep took over your body. Pietro took it upon himself to speed your sleeping figure back to the quinjet, setting you down as you snored softly. He admired you, but only for a minute as Wanda embraced him in a big hug from behind.

“You have got to stop making the sacrifice play, brother.” she said, more than relieved that he was okay.

“Now I just might. I wouldn’t want to put this beauty under so much stress again right?” He joked, motioning to your sleeping figure. Wanda smiled brightly at him.

“You better not mess this up again, otherwise I’m finding her a more suitable partner.” Wanda joked, punching her brother in the arm playfully.

“No one is more perfect for her than I.” Pietro said with a cocky tone. Wanda only sighed in response, not wanting to admit that he was right.

-

You woke up slowly in a dimly lit room; looking around you saw a familiar man with silver hair asleep in the corner of what you now recognized as the compound’s recovery room. You smiled contently as you used your telekinesis to bring the chair he slept in next to your bed. You reached out for his hand and gently ran your fingers over his knuckles, sighing tranquilly

Pietro slowly awoke as you just stared shamelessly at him.

“Dragosté!” Pietro exclaimed, now fully awake, jumping up and embracing you in a tight hug. He pulled away but kept his close distance, his hot breath fanning over your face as your eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips. A few more stolen moments passed by before Pietro closed the space in-between you two and pressed his soft lips to yours. Moving lazily against each other he slowly pulled away and rested his forehead on yours.

“I’m so sorry for everything, I should’ve seen it sooner.” he said sweetly, pressing another kiss to your cheek as you smiled.

“It’s okay, you’re here now and that’s all that matters.” you said, bringing your hand up to the side of his face, admiring his cobalt blue eyes. His eyes filled with the most love-struck look you’d ever seen as he pressed his lips back on yours, grinning from ear to ear.

You’d have some explaining to do to your other teammates in the morning when they’d inevitably find you both sleeping together in the cramped hospital bed though.

-

Hi all!! I hope this short imagine was fun for you all to read! Some of my more recent one-shots have been getting a lot of attention lately and it makes me so happy! I am over the moon that I’m not only writing again but gaining some traction. Thank you all so much! Don’t forget that my requests are open and feedback is encouraged! Also I just hit 100 followers and I know it’s not much but I’ll be starting a sleepover tomorrow!

Much Love,

-Skyler

[fangirlovestuff]

Smile - Thor Odinson x reader

a/n - hey lovely people!! this is for this lovely request by @cotton-candy-clouds-26​ , thank you!! i just couldn’t bring myself to write Steve cheating, i love him and i just don’t think he’d do that, but i hope it’s okay. enjoy!<3

Summary: you and Steve break up and it’s rough, but luckily there’s someone out there that helps you get over it. you could say he’s worthy of your affections (i had to hehe)

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Some curse words and a little angst

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

"Steve?" you called out, "you ready to go?"

"Just a couple seconds!" he replied, and you sat down on the couch, scrolling on your phone while you waited for him.

It was your six months anniversary, and you were getting ready to go to dinner with Steve. He's been acting a little weird the past few days, and it was starting to raise your suspicion.

Maybe he's getting me a surprise, you tried to shrug your worry off. You knew Steve wasn't that good at keeping secrets, especially from you, and you'd try and get it out of him tonight.

"Ready t-" you began to ask, but stopped once you saw he was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. "Stevie, you know I love your t-shirts," you said, appreciatively eying the bulge on his muscles revealed by the sort, tight sleeves, "but I was under the impression we're going to a fancy restaurant tonight. You know, the kind that won't appreciate anyone, including Captain America, coming in a t-shirt and jeans," you smirked.

"I'm not going," he sighed, sitting down next to you.

"You're not goi- is everything alright? Are you feeling unwell? I mean, I didn't even know you could get ill, but-"

"I'm not sick," he shook his head, "I just… I thought I could give you this one nice night, but I can't."

"What do you mean you can't? Steve, what's going on? Are they calling you on a mission or something?"

"No, no mission. Not today anyway." He took a deep breath before he continued. "I think we should break up."

Your mouth agape, it took you a couple of seconds to register what he just said. You closed your mouth and swallowed. "What?" you asked, your voice nearly a whisper.

"I'm sorry," he said, averting his eyes to the floor, "I just… I don't think I feel the same way about you anymore, and I don't wanna hold you back or anything. I thought the right thing to do was to treat you to a nice dinner before I…" he trailed off, his eyes fixed ahead of him, away from you, "Anyways, I couldn't do it. I didn't want to lie to you, or lead you on. You deserve better than that," his gaze finally turned to you, waiting for your response.

You didn't know what to say. You knew he was acting weird, but you'd have never seen this coming. "So this is it?" you asked disbelievingly. "This is how we end?"

"Look, I'm so-"

"Sorry, yeah, I know." You took a deep breath, willing your tears away. "I think I'll just go home," you got up, getting your stuff.

"Wait, I didn't cancel the reservation. If you wanna go yourself you— can," he called after you, the last word after you'd slammed the door behind you.

Outside of Steve's room, you let out a shuddering breath. He was living in the Avengers compound, so you had to keep yourself together until you got out of here, in case any of them saw you. You started getting outside, but your distracted state of mind probably led you to take a wrong turn in one of the corridors, because now you had no idea where you are.

"Shit," you mumbled under your breath before turning to look around you. You heard what you thought was the noise of a TV from behind one of the doors, and you knocked on it tentatively. You heard some shuffling and then the door opened to reveal none other than Thor. You know, God of Thunder Thor. God of Thunder Thor that was standing in front of you right now, waiting for you to say something because you were the one that knocked on his door.

You willed your brain to go back to functioning. "Um, hi," you said hesitantly, "I was just… I was on my way out of the compound and I got lost. Could you, um, point me in the right direction?"

"Of course," his voice was deep, you could almost feel it rumbling around you when he spoke. "Who are you looking for?"

"Oh, just the exit," you shrugged.

"Alright. I apologized, I just assumed, from the way you're dressed…"

"No, it's alright. I was supposed to go to this fancy restaurant for dinner, but then… anyways, I wouldn't want to go alone," you sighed.

"Well, in that case, would you like me to accompany you? I wouldn't mind dining with a lovely lady such as yourself," he smiled.

"Oh," you blinked in surprise. You weren't really planning on it, but you were actually kinda hungry. And hey, eating in a fancy restaurant with Thor does sound a little nicer than eating at home and wallowing in self-pity. The wallowing could wait. "I mean, if you'd like to," you smiled back at him, "but you'd have to put on a suit, something fancy."

"Oh, I'm sure I have one of those," he said, leaving the door open and heading back inside. "Come in," he said, loud enough for you to hear it. You guessed he headed into the bathroom to change, since when you got in all you saw was the room itself. It was simple, not a lot of personal touches. Makes sense since he's probably not here most of the time, but in Asgard, which would also explain why you hadn't met him yet.

"How's that?" he asked, getting out of the bathroom. The suit was slightly tight on his tall, broad frame, but it was more than okay with you.

"Perfect," you smiled, "we'll blend right in."

You drove the two of you to the restaurant, spending the time making small talk about 'Midgard habits', as Thor called them, or, as you called them, social norms.

When you got there, the hostess smiled at you and asked for the name of your reservation. By that point you had nearly forgotten it, but your shoulders sagged as you mumbled "Steve Rogers."

"I'll let you right in," she smiled and led you to your table.

"Wait, so Steve was going to come with you?" Thor asked once you got to the table. "Are you his girlfriend I've heard so much about from Tony?"

"I'm… not his girlfriend anymore," you said, averting your eyes to the table, playing with the napkin.

"Oh."

"He broke up with me today," you said, your voice breaking before you could get your emotions under control.

"My apologies," he offered, and put his hand over yours, "I know how unpleasant it is to be… broken up with."

"Yeah? Who'd ever dump Thor?" you chuckled, raising your gaze to meet him.

"Quite a few people over the years," he smiled, lighthearted.

"Well, I'm sorry," you squeezed his hand in yours.

When you were waiting for the main course, you had an idea. "Hey, you can't get drunk, right?"

"Not on your Midgardian version of booze, no. Why?"

"Perfect. Hey!" you signaled for a waitress to come over, ignoring Thor's questioning look, "Can we get a bottle of the most alcoholic wine you got here?" you smiled.

If the waitress thought the request was weird, she didn't show it. She just told you how much it costs, which nearly made you give it up but you really needed this tonight.

When you were done ordering it and the waitress went to bring it, you turned to Thor. "I know we just met each other, and this probably isn't the best first impression, but please can you just call me a cab at the end of dinner? Because I'm kinda planning to get drunk."

He chuckled, again making you experience the illusion that you could feel the sound between you. "Of course. If that would help."

"That would help a ton, thank you," you grinned at him, just as the waitress came back with your wine and the first course.

A whole bottle of wine consumed exclusively by you and a few dishes later, you knew it was time to go home. You paid the bill, trying not to freak out at how expansive it was. Thor wanted to pay too, but you assured him that it was fine, and it was you that dragged him out here anyway.

While you were standing outside waiting for a cab you could hail, you shivered a little in the cold.

Steve always gave you his jacket when you got cold.

Maybe it was the drinks, the late hour or just plain old breakup sadness, you felt tears come to your eyes, unable to stop them from flowing out.

You started sniffling and Thor noticed, his head immediately turning to look at you. "What's wrong?"

"He left me, Thor," you cried, "I thought everything was fine and he dumped me. And he was nice about it, so I can't even be mad and blame him, and that just means that," you barely contained your sobs, "it means I'm not enough. Everyone leaves me because I'm never enough." You buried your face in his bicep, too wound up in your misery to even notice how nice it was.

"Now, now," his other hand lifted to stroke your hair. It was a little awkward, but in your inebriated state you couldn't care less. "You're more than enough. I met you today and even I know you're wonderful."

You lifted your head to meet his eyes. Sniffling once again, you tried to stop crying. "Thank you," you said once you felt you gained enough composure. "I'm sorry I sprung all of this on you. I'll get a cab, go sleep it off," you said, awkwardness now prominent. God, you just made a fool of yourself in front of… a god. A literal god. Fuck.

"Where do you live?" he asked, seemingly unbothered. You gave him your address. "Well, I believe it's not that far. Do you need to wait for a cab or can you walk home?"

"I mean, I could walk, it's just that New York City at night isn't the safest place for a girl to walk alone," you smiled awkwardly.

"Oh, yes," he frowned, "I suppose you're correct. I could walk you home, if you'd like?"

You looked around. No cabs in sight. "Actually, yeah. That'd be cool."

The chilly night air sobered you up a bit. Once you got to your building, you bid Thor goodbye, thanking him again, before going up to your apartment and stumbling tiredly onto your bed, where you fell into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, you woke up still wearing yesterday's dress and with a slight headache, groaning as you got yourself out of bed to shower, change and drink some water, get an aspirin.

Once you had done all that, you checked your phone for any messages. You weren't supposed to come into work today, so you weren't expecting anything, but just to make sure. Surprisingly enough, there was a text from a number you hadn't recognized.

It said it was Thor and he asked how are you, but there was no way that was true, right? I mean, you didn't think Thor even had a phone, let alone your number. On the other hand, you couldn't think of anyone else who'd know enough to text you that.

Skeptical, you texted back that you were fine, not too far from the truth but still kind of far, and were planning to spend the day watching movies and eating ice cream, which was the truth.

How'd you get my number? You texted again before he could answer.

Jarvis had it, he texted back. He's quite useful. I do wonder why he won't leave his room.

You laughed. Either this was actually Thor, or it was someone really, really good. Before you could think up a reply, you saw the three little dots signifying he was typing again.

Would you perhaps want some company while you watch these movies?

You gasped out loud even though there was no one there to hear it. Was Thor really asking to come over and watch movies? With you? It was hard to believe. Maybe it is someone else after all.

You texted him he should come over if he wanted to. Thor knew your address, if it was really him, he'd come over. If it was some crazy stalker, you just wouldn't let him in and continue in your plans of bawling in front of some sappy movies. If it was actually Thor… well, you'd have to cry in front of him, you guess.

You already started on your ice cream and started The Notebook, figuring it was a good way to start your wallowing fest, and you were starting to get really into it when you heard a knock on the door. You moved as quietly as you could towards the door, looking through the peephole. To your momentary relief, it was Thor and not some stalker. Why momentary? Because holy fucking shit Thor was standing at your day and you were in your pajamas.

"Just a sec!" you called out. You figured you didn't have time to change, but you at least tried to get your hair in some sort of order before you opened the door, hiding your PJs clad body with it.

"Hi," you smiled bashfully once you closed the door behind him.

"Hello," he said, smiling. "Ah, I see you've already started. What movie is that?"

"Well, it's called The Notebook. Do you know it?"

He replied that no, he didn't, and you explained the plot briefly to him as you sat down, wrapping yourself back up in a fuzzy blanket before taking your ice cream back.

"Oh, where are my manners, would you like some?" you gestured the ice cream towards him.

"Yes, sure!" he nodded, and you were glad he at least knew what ice cream was. If someone hadn't bothered to introduce him that would just be cruel.

You went to get the ice cream, the blanket dragging behind you like a cape, and you returned with another tub of ice cream and a spoon, bringing them to him before sitting back down and starting the movie.

You two didn't speak much throughout the movie. When it got to the really sad parts you started crying silently, but by the ending you were just fully sobbing, and, as it seemed, so was he.

"That was so… sad," he said, "is this the entertainment Midgardians always enjoy?"

"Not always," you said, stopping to blow your nose, "we have happy things too. It's just, I got dumped last night, so I'd like the chance to cry a little, you know?"

"That's fair. And it was very beautiful. They loved each other."

"They did," you said, your eyes filling with tears again.

"What's next?"

You watched some more sad movies, and then introduced Thor to the wonderful world of takeout food while you changed to some rom com, a little more cheerful. He laughed the whole way through, and the movie wasn't even that funny, but you giggled along as well, unable not to join his roaring laughter.

You ended up falling asleep on the couch in the evening, exhausted, mostly emotionally. The next morning when you woke up he was gone, but he did text you that if you needed anything you could tell him.

Over time, you and Thor started hanging out some more. Mostly at your place or outside, since you really didn't want to risk running into Steve.

It took you time, getting over Steve. Time and tears.  And really, Thor being there helped. A lot. He was a rock, a shoulder to cry on.

A broad, muscular shoulder to ugly cry on.

At first, the thought of starting something with Thor didn't even cross your mind. Sure, he was sweet, but it was platonic, and you were busy getting over your breakup anyway.

But then, you realized it became something… more. To you at least. Because despite the tears, he didn't leave. Never wanted to.

Long story short, when Thor invited you to go to dinner one night, a few months after you met each other, you tried really hard not to think of it as a date. A friend-date, if anything.

"How's it going?" you asked, sitting down in front of him in the small diner.

"Good," he smiled at you, "You?"

"Great," you smiled back.

"So, I have some news," he started, continued once you gave him an encouraging nod, "I have to go back to Asgard in a week or two."

"Oh," you said. It made sense, Thor being on earth as long as he already has been should've raised your curiosity, but you didn't really want to think about it until this moment. "I guess you're happy to go home."

"I am," he hummed, "But… there was something I wanted to ask you before I leave. And be honest. Would you like… well, would you give me the opportunity to court you?"

You sat in stunned silence for a few moments. "Like, you're asking me to date you?" you said incredulously.

"I am," he chuckled nervously, "But you don't have to- I know you might not want to because of Steve and-"

"I haven't thought of Steve for a really long time," you cut him off with a smile, "mostly thanks to you. You make me really happy, and I would love to let you court me," you giggled.

"Really?" he asked, awestruck.

"Really," you smiled, leaning across the table, intending to press a kiss to his cheek. At the last moment he turned, making you plant your lips on his in a soft kiss.

You pulled away smiling, and so was he. He took your hand in his from across the table, and you continued to eat your food like you two usually do. Well, almost. Now there were timid exchanges of looks, gently hand squeezes.

And a breathtaking goodnight kiss.

But it was so natural, so normal, you couldn't bring yourself to admit the absurdity of him being a literal god and you being… just a human.

You spent the week he had left together, making the best of it.

In the future, you'd visit his home, he'd visit yours. And he'll always make sure to remind you you're not just a human, you are, in fact, his favorite one.

It never failed to make you smile.

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

this was my first time writing for thor, i hope i did him justice:))

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[marvelsimp]

THE NEW KID: Ice Cream or Blood

THE NEW KID MASTERLIST

Ch. 6

Genre: ANGST Pairing: Peter & Lesbian!reader, Avengers & Reader, (eventual Wanda x Reader it’s a slow burn) Warnings: Blood, badly injured character, bullet wounds, panic attack, swearing Description: Reader and Peter are supposed to be celebrating their friend-iversary but something goes terribly wrong. Reader’s Powers: Healer, telepath, and empath. Word Count: 2,477 -Quick Note: I am depicting a panic attack in this chapter so please don’t read if it might trigger you.  I drew from my own experiences, research, and how I often see them depicted in fics.

     New York is pretty at this hour; it's dusk and you’re about to celebrate your friend-iversary with Peter at his favorite ice cream shop.  He’s probably swinging around either giving a helping hand or stopping some bad guys.  You pull your phone and call him and as soon as you do you see him swinging above your head.

He answers almost immediately. “Hey, Y/n/n.  Sorry, I’m gonna be late there’s a robbery happening down the street.”

“It’s no problem. I’m still a few blocks away. Oh, and I just saw you!”

He let out a chuckle. “Good, I don’t wanna keep you waiting.  And be careful while you walk over.” He pauses for a second, you can barely hear Karen informing him about something.  “Seriously, machine guns!” he yells, his voice cracks.  

“I think I’m more worried about you.”  You hear guns firing through the phone, it’s loud.  And you can just barely hear it from a few blocks away.

“You’d think that they’d learn not to do crime here but noooo,” he mutters.

You just laugh at his complaints.  You can hear him say a few things to the robbers and then to Karen.  You don’t often talk to him while he’s doing something like this, so it is nice to see or more like hear what he does while fighting crime.  “Hey, I just got here so let me know when you’re headed this way.”

“I’m almost done here just… wrapping things up.”

You laugh again at his terrible joke.

“All done,” he breathes out.  After a few loud bangs, you hear him cry out in pain and then thwip.

“You ok?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Peter!”

“Shit.” He groans, he’s obviously hurt.

You start running.  “What happened, are you okay? Do you need me?”  

He doesn’t answer you at first, but you can hear his heavy, panicked breathing. “I got shot.”

You run faster. “Tell Karen to let Tony know you’re hurt.  I’m two blocks away.”

“Ok.”  You can hear her muffled voice presumably following your commands. “I’ll meet you in the alleyway, it’s closer to you anyways.”

Before you can tell him to stay put you can see Spider-Man swinging to an alleyway across the street from you. You press the button on your bracelet to send a distress signal and continue to run.  It doesn’t take you long to get there.

Peter’s just lying there, already in a puddle of blood.  You sit next to your now maskless best friend.  Terror.  There is a shit ton of blood.  So much blood.  He’s dying. He’ll die if you don’t save him, and he knows that.

“Peter i-it’s going to be o-okay.”

He starts to respond but is interrupted by his coughing.  When he takes his hand away you see the blood around his mouth, and he sees the blood in his hand. Fear.

Shit.

He’s holding back sobs.  You can feel it and you wish that you couldn’t. “Pete, I can’t risk try-trying to talk to you, I ha-have to focus.  But you’re going to be okay.”

He hesitantly nods. Disbelief. He doesn’t believe you, which is understandable, you don’t believe yourself either.

There are four bullet wounds, one in his chest, two in his abdomen, and one in his thigh.  Jesus, there is blood everywhere.  It’s a very different color from his suit. A lot darker and more distinct.  It would be a nice color if Peter wasn’t dying.  There is so much blood.  Your vision is blurry now, great tears!  Exactly what you need!

You go for the one in his chest first. Placing your hands on the wound, it and your hands start to glow a pale green.  You focus your energy into the wound, and it heals within a few minutes.

Peter grabs your wrist. He doesn’t look ok, he’s pale and his eyelids are in a battle, trying to stay open.  “It’s okay.”

He’s saying goodbye. You aren’t being fast enough. You have to be faster you can’t lose him.  He can’t fucking die. “You’re gonna be okay. Okay, Pete?” You don’t wait for an answer and put a hand on each of the wounds in his abdomen.  You pour everything you can into them. Within seconds they’re healed.

“Huh, didn’t know I could do that.” You look over to him and his eyes are closed. “No.”

“He’s alive.” You hear a muffled voice coming from his discarded mask. “He passed out from blood loss.  You should heal his wound on his leg and then see if you can use your powers on his bones to speed up the production of new blood cells.”

“Ok,” you want to cry and sob but you don’t have the time.  You have to finish healing him before he bleeds out. You remind yourself he’s alive, you can feel it.  You put your hands on the last bullet wound.  It doesn’t seem to be losing as much as the others. Is it because it isn’t as bad or that he doesn’t have a lot of blood left?  There is so much blood. Your hands and the wound glow the same pale green and you put all of your energy like you did before and poof!  He’s healed!  He needs blood or he’s going to die. He can’t survive on what he’s got so you focus your energy on the inside of Peter’s bones forcing them to speed up and create blood.

“That’s enough.  Mr. Stark is almost here.” Karen informs you after a few minutes.

There is so much blood.  

Right when you let go Iron man arrives, he removes his helmet to reveal his face. “What happened?” You can feel his terror, man these powers suck.

You sit up and take a deep breath. “He was trying to stop some robbers and got shot.  Four times but I healed them all.”  

Tony nods his head with a terrified look of a father.  Relief.  He carefully picks up Peter’s limp, bloody form and leaves.

You’re trying to process what just happened. There is so much blood.  You’re sitting there in the alleyway covered in it.  It’s soaked through your jeans turning them a deep maroon that would be pretty if it wasn’t his blood and if you weren’t drenched in it.  

You can’t stop thinking about that night when you discovered your powers, that pain.   You see the same color you saw then.  But this time it isn’t yours, this time you didn’t fail.  You keep thinking about how he almost died and about how she did.  How did you get here again?  At least you could help this time.  At least you were here this time.

He’s alive. He’s okay.  He’s not dead.  He didn’t… oh God.  There is nothing to worry about.  Everything is okay. Everything will be okay, right?  Everything is okay.  He’s okay.  You have to get out of these clothes.  There is so much blood. You don’t want to see this color. You don’t want to see her face every time you blink. You have to be clean; you have to change.  There was so much blood.  You’re in the elevator now, with someone.  How did you get here? You just need to think. You just need to be clean, to shower.  Worry.

The doors open and your body goes through, it’s like you’re watching tv.  Your body is acting for you.  Your head feels like it's floating.  There are so many people when you walk through. Worry. Who are they? What do they want? You can’t even think clearly enough to know them, to recognize them. Worry. Fear.  You can feel all of it.  It’s so much. It’s too much.  You can’t breathe. Stop it. You’re okay. Why can’t you breathe?  There was so much blood.  You need to get it off of you.  Stop it!  You’re okay. Calm down!  You can’t stand the color, the stench of it any longer. WORRY. Panic.  You need to go shower. Are you even moving? Yes. No. You’re falling.  Someone is holding you.  You’re leaning on a wall.  WORRY. Panic.  You can’t get any air in. It hurts. Everything feels tingly and numb. Except for them. WORRY. PANIC. There’s so much going on. A hand is on your face.  A thumb is making circles on your cheek.  You still can’t breathe.  CALM DOWN!  Everything is muffled and nothing makes sense.  It hurts. What’s going on? Someone is talking to you.  You can’t hear them.  You can’t focus.  There was so much blood.  Bloody water.  WORRY.  They’re still talking.  You’re okay. Focus. Who is it?  Blond hair.  Steve.

“Come on, Y/n. Look at me. I’m right here.”

Worry.

“Good.  Follow my breathing, doll.”  He’s calm, focused, worried.

You struggle still gasping for air.  Calm down.

“It’s okay.  You’re okay.  Everyone is okay.”

You nod but you’re still so disoriented. Disconnected.  None of these feels real. Are you dreaming?

“Try to follow my breathing again, ok?”

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

You hold back a sob.

He gently pulls you in, allowing you to push away if you want but you don’t.  “It’s okay.”

Why? Why do you feel like this? Like you’re dying.  Can’t you just pull yourself together like you always do?  Crying in front of people is the worst it’s so embarrassing.  Why can’t you stuff your feelings in like you always do?  

“Y/n,” he whispers gently.  ‘You’re allowed to cry.  We all know what happened with Peter.  You’re allowed to be upset, it’s a lot.”  He has you in a hug on his lap, gently holding your head.  You’re both on the floor of the hallway in front of your room.  

You let out a heart-wrenching sob and you keep sobbing and crying until you can’t anymore.  You don’t know how much time has passed since you’ve been on the floor nor how long it's been since when you first called Peter but what you do know is that you’re exhausted and you need to see him.

You start to let go of Steve and he copies. “Thank you.”

He nods while a kind smile escapes him.

“I need to go see Peter.”

“Do you want to change first?” He looks you up and down.  “Because you don’t seem comfortable.”

“Yeah,” you let out a laugh, god don’t start crying again.

He stands up first and offers you his hand.  As soon as you stood up the world goes black, and you can feel yourself tilting over.  He quickly catches you and picks you up.  When your vision returns, you’re sitting on the edge of your bed while he’s running water over a rag.

“I think you’ll faint if you try to take a bath or shower so here’s a rag.  I’ll get you some clothes out.”  He hands you the rag and walks over to your dresser getting your Spider-Man Pjs out that you got for your birthday, he chuckles a little.  He walks back over and sets them beside you.  “I’m going to make you some soup while you change, don’t try to get up or at least take your time.  I’ll come back and get you.”

You nod your head gently. Your head instead of floating feels like it weighs a ton.  You’re afraid you might fall over if you move too quickly.

With that, he leaves, closing the door behind him.

You take off your top first wiping yourself down, getting the dried blood off of your skin.  You carefully slide yourself down to the floor so that you can take off your jeans and underwear and then wipe down everywhere.  There’s a lot more blood on your legs.  You let out a sob.  There was so much blood. Once everything is wiped down you put on your clean clothes still being careful.  You sit there for a while longer, getting up isn’t an option.  You know without a doubt that you’ll faint if you stand up or move.

Knock.  Knock.  Knock.

“Come in,” you say almost in a whisper.

It’s Bucky.  “Hey, doll.  Steve made you some soup.” He paused for a second not wanting to belittle you. “He said you might need some help.  Do you want me to help you walk or carry or…”

“I don’t thank I can stand up,” you admit.  You feel a little embarrassed that he has to carry you but mostly you’re just exhausted.  

Once your done eating you feel so much better.  Your powers must drain your energy and that’s why you’re so exhausted. “I’m going to go and see him,” you announce to Bucky and Steve.

“Do you want us to go with you?” Steve asks.

“No, I’ll be fine,” you say standing up and starting to walk towards the elevator.  

“Okay, if you need us just tell FRIDAY,” Bucky tells you.

You nod and tell FRIDAY to take you to Peter.  

When you enter the Med bay you see Helen there, she’s working on some project.  Not worried at all.  Peter’s fine.  You continue your way down the hallway and see Aunt May talking to a nurse.  She stops the conversation and almost runs to you, wrapping you into a hug.

“Thank you,” she whispers into your ear.  “You saved him.”

“Of course. What else would I have done?” She releases you from the hug.  “Where is he?”

She points you to a door not too far away.  “He’s in there, probably still asleep.  Tony’s in there, too.”

You speed down the hallway and open the door.  Tony is leaning back in one of the chairs while Peter is asleep on a hospital bed.  When you close the door, Tony looks up and sees you.  His tired and worried expression turns into a happier one.  He rushes over to you and engulfs you in a hug.  So many hugs today.  

“Thank you, Y/n.  You saved him.  If you hadn’t been there, he wouldn’t…”

You release yourself from his grip and go to Peter’s bedside.  You pull up one of the chairs beside him and sit down.

You look up at the brunette teenager.  You can feel salty, warm tears streaming down your face.  You put your hands in his and rest your head against the bed.  He’s alive.  He’s safe.  He’s okay.  Fuck! You can’t stop thinking about how much blood there was.  How could one person contain so much blood?  How is he even alive?  Even with your powers how the fuck did he survive that?  You’re sobbing now.  Full-on sobbing.

“Hey.”

You lookup.

“I’m awake. I’m okay,” says the tired teen in front of you.

You let out a shaky chuckle. “Pete.” You continue to sob but you hug him and hold him. Joy.  He really is okay.

He hugs you back.  “Let’s not do that again,” he laughs.

You nod, happy that your best friend is okay and awake.  

Next Chapter

Ice Cream or Blood- DELETED SCENE

[echo-hiraeth]

Chapter 11: La Familia

Part of the “Ilicit Limerence” series

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: With Thanksgiving right around the corner, Javier decides it’s as good a time as any to introduce his girlfriend to the family.

Warnings: swearing, angst, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, nudity

Masterlist

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A/n: So my internet was out for nearly a week (yayyy!), but I’m alive and well. I’m terribly sorry for the delay in content, but I hope this can somewhat make up for it <3

There truly was nothing like waking up in his arms, the loving, loose hold making you feel right at home. As of late Javier had found it within himself to start touching your belly a bit more, starting to form somewhat of a connection with the bump there. The other night, while you were stood under the shower head, he’d just sat there, watching in awe as your dragged the washcloth across your body. There was something ethereal about you, the glow on your face, the shine in your hair, not to mention the astoundingly gorgeous smile you sported all day.

You were really happy. Everything was finally falling into pieces.

There was only one more piece missing: Chucho. Javier had phoned his dad the other night, fully aware that Thanksgiving was only a week away and that he’d be receiving an invitation sooner or later. It had been a long phone call, that had lasted for the total duration of three whole cigarettes. He looked into the living room from where he stood on the balcony, taking in the way you were dozing off on the couch, making his own lips curl up.

Javier’s father had been nothing short of ecstatic when he heard his boy would be coming over for Thanksgiving and that Escobar had been put behind some kind of bars. The tough DEA agent wasn’t one to admit to these kinds of things, but he really just wanted you to meet his dad, it meant a lot to him. His father had been sad to see his ex-fiancée, Lorraine go, but when he heard the little crack in his son’s voice at the mention of your name, he knew exactly what was going on.

He hadn’t meant to blab as much as he did, but Javier had a difficult time keeping things from his pop, especially the good ones. He could’ve punched himself when he let slip that you were in fact expecting a baby. There was a low chuckle at the end of the line followed up by a choked sob, Chucho only ever wanted for his boy to be happy, and by the sound of it, you’d managed to do just that. A grandchild was a welcome bonus, but the old man longed for a daughter, someone to take care of his boy.

Sighing, he extinguished the burning end of the cigarette, throwing it into an ashtray before heading back inside. He knew he had to tell you about the phone call, but seeing how you were still so wrecked and exhausted, he decided it could wait until tomorrow.

“Falling asleep at eight? Really?”, he mocked, swiping some stray hair out of your face.

You let out a loud yawn, stretching your arms above your head in the process. “Come lay with me.”

He couldn’t resist that raspy voice, eyes crinkling as you squinted against the light. Bending down, he pressed a short kiss to your forehead. “You sure you don’t want to head to bed?”

“I want to stay with you”, you smiled, lacing your fingers with his.

“You mind if we watch the match then?”, he asked, gesturing towards the tv.

You gently shook your head, slowly sitting up. “Let me just brush my teeth and get some water first.”

He stole a kiss as you slipped past him, grabbing your ass as well, in true Javier-fashion. You just playfully rolled your eyes at him, scoffing as you headed for the bathroom. The two of you had planned to stay in for the weekend to catch up on sleep and some much-needed alone time. A delivery pizza had been in order and as you stood in the bathroom, getting ready for bed, you couldn’t help but gasp as you slipped out of your dress. Okay, yeah wow, there was a bump now, very suddenly. Your toothbrush was perched between your teeth, brows furrowing as you looked at yourself from the side. You quickly rinsed your mouth, shrugging on a pair of shorts and one of Javier’s shirts.

“I put some water on the table for you, baby”, his voice sounded from the couch.

You walked up to the couch, standing in front of him with a wide grin. “Sooo, I’m gonna need some new clothes.”

“Yeah? Why’s – woah”, he exclaimed, eyes wide, “When did that happen?”

The smirk on his face was nothing short of adorable, his hands moving up to cup your stomach. “It’s the pizza I’m sure but wow.”

“It suits you”, he praised, looking up at you.

“Guess we should binge more often then”, you chuckled, moving to sit down next to him.

He laid down, motioning for you to curl up against him, which you gladly did. You nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck, relishing in the warmth of it. “You look more beautiful every day, corazón.”

“Still not having sex with you tonight”, you sang.

A heartfelt laugh rumbled through his chest, a protective arm wrapping around you. “Are you saying I can’t compliment my girlfriend?”

You lifted your head, looking him in the eyes. “Depends.”

“On?”, he asked, bringing his lips closer to yours.

“The ulterior motive”, you whispered, brushing your lips against his.

He bumped his nose against yours, huffing out a breathy laugh. “We’re just watching the fight, are we not?”

“Exactly. Clever boy”, you murmured, smirking as you laid down on top of him again.

You were out before the first round had even ended, softly snoring atop of his chest. His cheek pressed against the top of your head, he watched the boxing match unfold. In between rounds he’d check up on you, adjusting himself so your back wasn’t curved or neck wasn’t craned. His hand ran up and down your spine, immediately reaching for the quilt when he noticed to slightest shiver.

 Eventually sleep grabbed a hold of Javier as well, no matter how hard he tried to fight it off, wanting to stay with you like this for as long as he could manage. His eyes started closing on their own, hands ceasing their entrancing movements. He jolted awake when he heard the roar of a crowd come from the television’s speakers and swiftly reached for the remote, turning it off. He held onto you, slowly rising to his feet and carrying you into the bedroom.

You were sound asleep still and seemingly nothing, no matter how jerky or abrupt his movements, could lull you out of that much-needed slumber. He briefly disappeared into the bathroom to get changed and in those short five minutes you’d already hogged the covers between your legs, a hand sprawled across his side of the bed. You were absolutely adorable. He heaved a content sigh, softly sitting down on his side of the bed, stroking your hair out of your face before laying down.

You rolled over, allowing for him to cuddle up to your back, resting a heavy hand on your swollen abdomen. He pressed a final kiss to your shoulder and closed his eyes, feeling at peace with you pressed up against him. The sound of your rhythmic breathing sang him right to sleep, forehead resting against the back of your head.

The next morning you were the first to wake up, yawning as you blinked a few times. The sun was already seeping through the cracks of your blinds, illuminating your lover’s face. His head was laid on your chest, his torso close to your side, one arm splayed across your ribcage and another tucked underneath your pillow. You carded a hand through his hair, earning an earnest groan from his puffy lips.

There was something so serene about the weekends, getting to slowly wake up in the comfort of his presence. You cherished those mornings, taking advantage of the early hours to cuddle up to him a little closer. Javier sighed in his sleep when you rested your other hand on his cheek, still softly scratching at his scalp.

“Buenas, mi amor”, you cooed, kissing his temple.

He let out somewhat of a grunt, shifting against you as his eyelids fluttered open. “What time’s it?”

You turned your head, craning to glance at the alarm clock. “Quarter to eleven.”

“Anything planned?”, he asked, pulling you back into him.

“Just groceries, but there’s no rush”, you replied, relaxing into his touch.

He suddenly propped himself up on his elbow, hovering above you. “Lazy morning sex?”

You grinned up at him, nodding your head: “Lazy morning sex.”

His mouth moved slowly against your own, a hand cupping the side of your face as his tongue slid across your bottom lip. You parted them for him, allowing for him to delicately lick into your mouth. One of your hands found the hem of his boxers, slowly sliding them down before taking his member in hand. He moaned into your mouth, gently biting down on your lip as you started languidly stroking him. He rolled onto his back again, allowing you to sit up some more as you worked your fingers around his shaft.

“How’s that feel, baby?”, you inquired, lips ghosting over his chest.

His hands move up to grab your breasts, squeezing and molding them. “Those fucking hands of yours.. so fucking perfect.”

You felt the dull ache and itch of your swollen breasts start to fade away, his touch like magic. “Jav-Javi.. ins-side”, you breathed, closing your eyes as your head tipped backwards.

He gently laid you down on the mattress, adjusting your legs so you were laid on your side, facing away from him. You smiled drunkenly as he moved to lay behind you, his hardened, leaking cock pressing into the back of your thighs.

“You ready for me, hermosa”, you gave a fervent nod, “words, baby, let me hear those pretty sounds.”

“God – yes, please Javi”, you whined, grinding your ass back on his crotch.

He parted your thighs, dragging his tip through your folds before pushing in. You both groaned in unison, your fingers capturing his, squeezing his hand as he pressed forward hitting you deeper and deeper. Your breathing was frantic with how sensitive you were feeling this very morning, eyes screwed shut as you adjusted to his girthy length.

“You okay to keep going?”, he checked, kissing along your neck.

You took a deep breath before replying: “Just go slow please..”

He took his time, his thrusts slow and calculated as he moved his hips back and forth. You’d turned your face, burying it in the soft pillow as you whimpered and moaned. His fingertips worked your pebbled nipples, praises tumbling from his mouth with every jerk of his pelvis.

When he felt you start to grind back against him, he quickened his pace, hitting deeper as he pulled your thigh up to rest on his. You cried out at the new angle, grabbing onto his wrist as you whimpered loudly. The intense reaction you gave only spurred him on, his lips feverish as he tilted your head back, capturing your lips perfectly. The circling of his tongue was in tandem with the pace of his thrusts, and quite frankly left your mind blank, body shaking. He wiggled his hand out of your grip to play with your clit, making you sob into his mouth. The familiar clenching let him know you were about to fall over the edge. His hips started faltering, kisses getting sloppier as he rushed towards his own orgasm, moving away from your mouth to let out a string of curses, cock twitching as he released within your warmth.

You were completely blissed out, legs trembling uncontrollably as you panted and whimpered. Javier was right there with you, desperately trying to catch his breath as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. “You alright, sweetheart?”, he puffed.

No answer. He rolled onto his side, noticing the goosebumps on your bare arms and legs. Muttering a swearword, he pulled the covers over the two of you again and helped you onto your back, softly stroking your cheek in an attempt to pull you back from whatever mental place you were in.

“Hey, I’m right here, you good?”, he asked, starting to get a little concerned.

You looked up at him, mouth slightly agape as your brows knitted together. “Huh?”

He let out a low chuckle, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Catch your breath, I’ll get us something to drink.”

Before you could really register what he was saying he’d left the room. You slowly came to again, the intensity of your orgasm leaving you entirely numb, with a blank mind and pleasantly aching body. He had a hard time keeping his pride contained. The two of you had always had what one would consider exquisite sex, but this, this was new, even for him. He came back with a chilled bottle of water and the familiar wash cloth. He laid down next to you again, propping himself up on one of his elbows to get a good look at you. The way your thighs trembled was nothing short of mesmerizing, eyes glued to them as he softly reached out to touch you there.

“No, don’t”, you whispered, closing your eyes.

“Are you hurting?”, he questioned, cracking the bottle open.

“Not hurting just.. sensitive – overstimulated.”

He bit his lip, trying to keep himself from making a stupid comment. He’d be telling Steve about this one at work, he just had to. “How about you take a bath? And then we take it easy today.”

“Will you join me? I know your back’s been hurting”, you babbled, rubbing your eyes lazily.

“We can get that sorted out later. Can you walk?”

His heart swelled with pride as you braced yourself on the nightstand, knees buckling somewhat. “I think I could use those arms of yours right about now.”

“Say no more”, he sighed, sweeping you right off your feet, seizing the opportunity to smash his lips against yours once again.

“Ever the mister Darcy”, you teased, gently kissing the spot behind his ear.

He set you down on the counter, putting the stopper in the drain before turning to faucet on. “I called my dad the other day..”

“Oh?”, you slipped your shirt off, “How is he?”

“Chucho’s fine but err – he asked me to join him back in Laredo this Thursday”, he stated, pouring some shower gel into the water.

“You should go, Noonan doesn’t make a big deal out of people taking leave for holidays”, you replied, working on some of the knots in your hair.

He scratched the back of his head, thinking up a way to address this. “Well, he wants you to join me, to meet the family.”

You didn’t mean for your reaction to be so obvious, knocking over the soap dispenser as your eyes widened. “Your dad – wants me, your girlfriend, to be there? I-I didn’t realise he knew I even existed.”

“Fuck – I knew this was a bad idea I just thought that-“

“No, no, no! I want to come, I just – I didn’t expect things to go this fast… is all.”

You could see the relief on his face, shoulders untensing as a new silence fell over the two of you. “I never want to make you feel like we’re rushing into things… but falling pregnant and basically moving in together kind of set a pace..”, he joked.

“Oh baby, and exactly whose fault is that?”, you retorted, draping your arms around his neck.

“Those trembling legs should serve as your reminder, querida”, he jested, stepping away from you. “Water warm enough?”

You carefully got off the counter, swirling a set of fingers in the tub to test the temperature. “Seems perfect to me.” As Javier laid out some towels, you lowered yourself into the tub, taking up his usual space.

“What are you doing?”, he asked, pointing at your bubble-covered self.

“Just get in and shut up”, you chuckled, spreading your legs to allow him some room.

There was some more muttered protesting before he finally got in, shoulders stiff and rigid as he kept some space between the two of you.

“Dios mios Javi..”, you exhaled, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Lean back, rest against me.”

He was hesitant, afraid to hurt you or the baby in any shape or way, but when you convinced him that nothing like that would likely happen, he finally gave in. Leaning back against your chest, he rested his head against your collarbone.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable like this?”, he worried yet again.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes before kissing the top of his head. “Will you stop fussing already? Let me take care of you today Javi. Let me show you how much I love you”, you purred, sliding your hands down his back.

He let out a pained grunt when you reached that one spot in his lower back, the one he’d been complaining about earlier on. “Easy, easy.. very tender.”

You circled your fingers on the area around it, being mindful not to be too overbearing or intense. With every new relaxed hum or huff, you massaged a bit closer to that cursed spot, hoping to alleviate some of the build-up and tension there. As you got there, he encouraged you to knead him somewhat harder, guiding you through the knots as he let out husky profanities, alternating between Spanish and English.

“Feels much looser already”, you whispered, pressing your knuckles into the muscle.

He hummed contently, stroking your calf under the water. “Fuck – that does feel good.”

You worked your way up his back, wanting to solve as many of those little problems as you could. By the time you got to his overworked shoulders, the water had started getting cold, but neither of you were planning on stopping anytime soon.

“So your dad”, you started, digging into the muscle at the back of his neck, “how exactly do I impress him?”

He let out a breathy laugh, squeezing your knee a bit. “You already have, hermosa.”

“Yeah, you’re going to have to fill me in on what you’ve told him. We need to get our story straight here”, you chuckled, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“He already knows everything he needs to know”, he stated curtly, leaning back a bit more.

The penny dropped. “Wait – did you tell your father I’m pregnant?”

“I mean, he was gonna find out sooner or later”, he reasoned, eyes widening with surprise when you shoved him off of you.

You untangled yourself from him, supporting yourself with the rim of the tub as you went to stand. “Javier, these are decisions you can’t make on your own.”

“I know. It just sort of slipped out..”, he rationalised, getting out as well, taking the towel you were handing him.

The annoyance was clear in the way you were looking at him. “I really don’t appreciate this.”

“It’s not that big of a deal-“

“Maybe it is to me”, you interrupted, walking out of the bathroom wrapped up in your towel.

He trailed behind you, dripping onto the bedroom and kitchen floor in doing so. “Don’t be upset, I had to tell him someday.”

“I know.. I just wish you would’ve talked about it with me first.. like couples do”, you confessed, voice a whole lot quieter now.

He hadn’t thought about it in that way, but could see why it annoyed you as much as it did. “I’m sorry, corazón.”

“It’s okay Javier, just – next time talk about this kind of thing. You’re not alone anymore, you have a family of your own to think about.”

He watched as you disappeared into the bedroom once again, dumbfounded by what you had just said. A family of his own. It sounded so very foreign to him, the idea of a wife and children, the whole tree, dog, house thing. But standing here in your shared apartment made him feel some kind of way. A wife, he’d been there before, but he didn’t follow through. Lorraine was an amazing woman, but Javier wasn’t happy with her, he was happy with the idea of his father being content, but she wasn’t it for him. She was very tender and fragile, yet very well- and outspoken. Lorraine knew how to stand her ground and would’ve been the perfect housewife, but that’s also all she would ever be. She would’ve been a safe option, but he knew by now that safe wasn’t always good. Javier craved the danger, the adventure, something more, someone who could challenge him to be better, someone who wouldn’t settle for the bare minimum. And that someone was you. Someone who could understand him and the things he’d done, someone to be there.

You reemerged fully dressed, grocery list in hand. He was still stood there, baffled and speechless, still trying to process what he was feeling and thinking. “I’m not mad, okay. Just a bit annoyed, so I’ll go get groceries and clothes myself and you can do your Javi-things.”

Part of him wanted to protest, remind you of the dangers that lurked beyond that door, but he knew you. You were a strong woman, femme fatale at that. “You’ll call if anything comes up?”

“I’ll call just to get on your nerves”, you chuckled, pressing a short peck to his lips as you grabbed your keys off the kitchen island.

 It was a lovely afternoon, the late-November sun nice and warm on your rosy cheeks as you ventured the market for fresh groceries and some stretchy-er clothes. The fact that you’d be meeting his father later that week continuously on your mind as you looked at all the racks of mid-season fashion.

Meanwhile Javier was back at his old apartment, boxing up the last of his stuff. It was something he’d promised to do last weekend, but just never got around to actually finishing. He knew those last couple of boxes would mean the end of an era and he knew fully well he’d never go back to it. Your apartment was considerably bigger than his, even having a whole second bedroom, which served as an impromptu office. So it had been an easy decision.

“Hey, need some help?”

Javier whipped his head around to look at Connie, who was carrying a bag of her own. “There’s not that much left to do, really.” He taped a third box shut, tearing the sticky material with his teeth. “How’s the kid?”

“Olivia’s okay, just going through some teething and whatnot. But uh- I wanted to give you this”, she hesitated, setting the paper bag down on the coffee table.

He jerked the top back, glancing inside. “Clothes?”

“Yeah, for the baby, Liv’s grown out of them and I know how expe-“

“Woah – woah, she’s barely three months along, don’t you think this is a bit much?”, he questioned, stepping back to fill the next box.

Connie fumbled with her fingers somewhat, surprised at his harsh tone. “Well, we talked about it last week and she said that she wanted to take a look for herself”, she clarified.

“Whatever, just – just put them in a box or something”, he sighed, wiping some sweat off his forehead.

She crossed her arms, closing the door with her foot. “This isn’t just about the clothes, is it?”

“What?”

She took a few steps towards him, gesturing for him to take a seat on the couch. “What’s gotten into you, Javi?”

“I just fucked up, but it’s not that big of a deal”, he stressed, reaching into his back pocket for the anxiety-easing smokes.

“Seems like it is to you”, she spoke, watching him light a cigarette and sucking it in between his lips. “What is all this really about, Javi?”

He watched the smoke swirl around in the open air as he exhaled, taking a second to gather his thoughts. “I-I actually really want to be with her. Not because of the baby or because of the convenience.. I-I really want to spend the rest of my life with her.”

“Well, that sounds great”, she smiled, noting the conflicted look in his eyes. “So why is it such a problem?”

“It’s fucking terrifying. The idea of having somebody so valuable and precious and the possibility of – of..” He didn’t finish his sentence, knowing fully well Connie would understand it better than anyone else.

She placed a hand on his knee, encouraging him to look up at her. “You can’t let fear rule your life like that Javier. She and that baby, they’re gifts, so enjoy them. Escobar is behind bars for now, use it to your advantage, go out for dinner together or take a darn late night stroll. This is the universe giving you a break. Get to know yourself again, work on that relationship. You’ve got a good thing going here, and you’d be an idiot to let it slip away so easily.”

 By the time he came back to the apartment, hauling two boxes along with him, you were already in the kitchen, bent over dinner. He kicked the boxes inside, slipping out of his jacket and shoes before walking over to were you were standing.

“That smells really nice, princesa”, he praised as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Hmm, I brought you some stuff, it’s over on the coffee table”, you said in between kisses. “Dinner should be done in an hour, just need to put it in the oven.”

He strolled over to the couch, remembering the boxes he brought in himself. “That reminds me, Connie gave me some of Olivia’s stuff for you to go through.”

You clasped your hands together, a wide grin spreading across your face as you made your way over to the boxes. “If you want to, we can go through it together”, you suggested, pulling the bag out of the cardboard box.

“We can do that, gonna have to learn what all of those buttons are for eventually”, he joked, rummaging through the bags you’d left for him. Inside were some new jeans, shirts and button-ups, things he needed but found too tedious of a task to do himself. He smiled as he watched you empty the paper bag, heart filled with love and adoration in that moment. “Gracias, mi corazón.”

“Just you wait, look at the bottom”, you smirked, taking a seat on the couch.

He fished something out of the bags, giving you a confused look. “Tiger.. balm?”

“It’s like VapoRub but for backpain”, you explained.

He gently shook his head, leaning down to press his lips to yours. “I fucking love you.”

The remainder of that hour was spent together on the couch. Javier was lazily sat back as you pulled piece after piece from the bag, cooing and fussing about how “cute” and “adorable” everything was, showing it all off to him with a million-dollar-smile glued to your face. He chuckled right along as you held the rompers against your bump, trying to visualise it all for him. To his surprise, he was actually enjoying himself. There was something about the higher pitch in your voice that made his heart flutter in his chest. It was the happiest and most excited he’d seen you in a while and what a welcome sight it was.

“Can you imagine getting an actual baby out of all this?”, you giggled, holding a tiny shirt out in front of you.

“I’m not drunk enough to have this conversation, querida”, he quipped, taking the article of clothing from you and pulling you on top of him. “I haven’t gotten back to my dad yet, so if you don’t want to go, I can just tell him.”

“Javi, I want to go”, you reassured him, cupping his face in both of your hands. “Just.. no more surprises, please.”

He agreed with you and genuinely didn’t think anything of it until he phoned his father again. Chucho was more than happy hearing the news and informed his dear son that his ex-fiancée and her respective husband would be attending as well. Fuck – he forgot about Lorraine for a second. He wondered if he should just cancel and avoid having the two women in his life face each other over a stupid holiday. But he ultimately decided against it, soothing himself in hoping and praying that both you and Lorraine would upkeep the maturity and calmness you both exuded. He’d told you about his runaway marriage and answered any all questions you’d had about it in the past. You were understanding of it and heard him out, much to his surprise, and didn’t react too strongly. Throughout the first half of the week he considered telling you before you got on the flight, but part of him wanted to tell you when you were already back in the states, so that you wouldn’t have too much time to get worried about it.

Wednesday night was spent packing and frantically double-checking everything. The two of you had the early flight and would be staying until that Sunday. You were a nervous wreck, not having done the whole “meet the parents” shebang in years. On top of that you were pregnant, which didn’t necessarily make it any easier for you. Javier was right there with you, though still tried to maintain a calm front to somewhat appease to your nerves.

“What’s Thanksgiving usually like? Some nice jeans and a top or like full-on pretty dress and hair and make-up”, you asked, hands flailing in your tenseness.

Javier ran a hand across his face, shrugging his shoulders at you: “Wear whatever you want, we don’t really care about that kind of thing.”

“Jaaaviii”, you whined, throwing your head back, “Can you at least pretend to care?”

It went on like that for a good while until ultimately Javier just packed your bag for you, more than fed-up with the everlasting debate. Both of you had a hard time falling asleep that night, the anxiety and suspense tangible. But eventually, in a tangle of limbs, the two of you were out, until a couple hours later the blaring alarm pulled you both back to reality. Breakfast among other formalities were skipped, a short shower all the luxury the two of you could afford, before heading to the airport.

Security and check-in were equally as stressful as the night before, Javier’s eyes practically burning as he watched the security guard pat you down. Stepping in when the officer started laying hands on your stomach. With a flash of the familiar DEA badge, everything was settled and soon the two of you were boarding the plane. Javier sat next to the window, still looking out for you as you got seated and comfortable.

“Need anything?”, he asked, a warm hand covering yours.

You smiled at him, pulling up the armrest to scoot a little closer to him. “I’m just nervous, not too big on flying”, you expressed, lifting your brows somewhat.

“I’m right here, okay, just tell me if you need anything”, he reminded you, pecking the top of your head. “Why don’t we try to get some more sleep?”

The flight was over before you knew it, Javier’s shoulder proving an excellent pillow. After gathering your bags the two of you rented out a car and started the drive down to Laredo. He tried his best to take your mind off of it as he told you about the town itself, even pointing out his high school to you. It was a worthy attempt, but as he pulled up to the ranch, those nerves came right back, seemingly more prominent than before.

He grabbed a hold of your hand as he led you around to the backdoor, pulling back the screen door before letting himself in.

“¡Papá, ya llegamos!”, he called out, setting down his bag on the kitchen floor. He kissed you very briefly, whispering something to you before turning his attention to the approaching footsteps. (Dad, we’re here!)

“Mi hijo, llegas temprano”, a lower baritone answered, a man older but akin to Javier walking into the kitchen. (My boy, you’re early.)

He embraced his son, clapping him on the back in the process, only meeting your eyes as he pulled back. The elderly man smiled at you, opening his arms as he took a few steps towards you. You hugged him right back, sharing a look with Javier as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Ah, she’s very pretty”, Chucho grinned, slapping his son on the shoulder. “But too skinny! You need to feed her better.”

The three of you laughed at that, talking some more before Chucho ordered for his son to show you to the room upstairs. The first meeting went great, but being as nervous as you were, you could use a couple of minutes to compose yourself. You failed to notice the absolute relief washing over Javier as well, who was just as grateful as you were to get some alone time.

“I’d say that went pretty well”, he breathed out, rubbing his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your cheek against his sternum. “Your dad’s really lovely, cielo. So why are you such a prick?”, you teased.

He poked at your side, grabbing a hold of your chin to press his lips to yours. “Don’t make me do ungodly things to you in my childhood bedroom”, he tutted, moving his hands down to squeeze your ass.

“Javier Peña! Don’t you fucking dare”, you warned, baring your teeth as you smirked up at him.

He lifted one hand to playfully swat your butt, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Nothing I haven’t done before.”

You wriggled free of his grasp, jokingly flipping him off before heading into the bathroom. After about another ten minutes or so the two of you headed back downstairs, having promised to help Chucho out with some of the side dishes. The table was set for five and you thought nothing of it, just expected more people to show.

Chucho and you proved a good duo, working together on some of the sides in the kitchen as Javier was preparing some drinks. There was some banter going on, laughs being shared and there was an overall good atmosphere. When the doorbell rang, and Javier disappeared from view, Chucho turned his attention to you.

“He looks really happy, you know. Thank you”, he spoke, handing you a fork while you drew a bit of a pattern into the mashed potatoes.

You smiled at him, huffing out a deep breath as you thought of something to say. “He makes me very happy as well, your son’s a good man.”

As the two of you bonded over in the kitchen, Javier opened up the front door, standing face to face with Lorraine, the woman he’d left at the altar. She offered him a kind smile before stepping in, seemingly unfazed and he just stood there, baffled as her husband trailed behind her.

“Didn’t expect you to show up”, she said, hanging her coat on one of the hooks.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest in a defensive manner, eyeing her husband up and down. “It’s Thanksgiving, pop always asks me.”

“And yet you never show”, she chuckled, making her way over to the kitchen.

Javier at that moment remembered who exactly was waiting in the kitchen, and quickly trailed behind the couple to get to you. You and Chuco were laughing as the three of them walked in, offering polite greetings when you noticed the new set of guests.

Lorraine gave a puzzled look as she took you in, smiling to herself as she put two and two together. “Oh! You’re Javi’s wife!”, she exclaimed, closing the gap between the two of you to engulf you in a hug. “I’m Lorraine, I help Chucho out on the farm.”

Taglist: @pedritomando @peterhollandkait @radiowallet @ophelia-ingenue @phoenixhalliwell @diogodxlot @rosiefridayrogersunday @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @asta-lily @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @missstef23 @jasmincita @dobbyjen​

[fadedseas]

lessons.

nick amaro x fem!reader

summary: you get held hostage during a confrontation with a serial rapist - feelings ensue

tw: guns, violence, mentions of rape, cursing

(gif not mine but good lord, that expression...)

you knew there was an intrinsic reason you hated school. you knew it was a mistake to ever return to a classroom again. you knew this notion was affirmed as a serial rapist pressed his gun deeper into your skull so hard that you could feel the metal ring of the barrel.

there was something about the stuffiness of a classroom, the monotonous drone of an underpaid and overworked public school teacher (or that of an overpaid and underworked tenured professor) and the unrelenting stiffness of academia that made your skin crawl and your muscles twitch. it was probably why you had tried to get out as soon as possible. college as a scholarship kid with the four years passing quickly in a blur of all-nighters, coffee hangovers and then sweet relief during graduation. you had signed up for the police academy before the ink on your degree was even dry. and now you’re here. 

“now let’s just stay calm,” you closed your eyes at nick’s voice, trying to allow the deep tenor of his voice permeate your bones and calm your trembling. you hadn’t allowed yourself to make eye contact with him ever since the perp had grabbed you right when you had walked in. 

“i know you don’t want to do this.” nick moved slow, his muscles deceptively relaxed under his white button down as he moved slowly towards you and the professor. 

it was supposed to be a cut and dry case. a student from hudson university had walked into a squad room on a wednesday morning reporting a rape, her arms around her middle as if she were holding herself together. you and nick had pounded the pavement, interviewing classmates, boyfriends, administration officials that seemed less than pleased to have the nypd scaring off prospective students and donors. and one name kept appearing time and time again. professor daniel hershaw. english literature. tenured for the past fifteen years. 

“you really think it might be him? he’s the image of a family man. mentor. i mean the guy makes model planes for godssake - he’s a walking cliche.” you mused 

“one thing you learn on this job - most of the time, we’re not pulling rapists off the street. they hunt where they’re trusted.” nick said as he handed you a coffee from the coffee cart with his lips curved into a sad smile. your heart jumped as your fingers brushed. and oh. yes. that was another thing that was happening.

liv had assigned you and nick as partners given that you were the newest recruit and he was one of the senior members of the team. it was late nights, terrible coffee, greasy chinese food and floods of case notes that turned stagnant work chatter into deeper, more revealing conversations. you learned about his tendency to dance to the cuban music station on the radio (”we can work on your moves rookie”), his secret love for musicals, his divorce that had ended a year ago with an aggressive custody battle and long negotiations for weekends and holidays with his daughter, zara. you had learned more about his family, about zara’s obsession with anything disney, about his mother and her fretting, about his father and his tendency to communicate with his fists that made nick’s rage swell whenever your team handled a case involving women with black eyes and voices weak from sobs. 

and he learned of you. of your love for terrible reality tv shows and home cooking blogs that made you way too optimistic of your own cooking skills (”damn rookie, you burned water? i’ll have to teach you how to cook some ropa vieja someday - we’ll work up to it”); of your nightmares about each victim you’ve seen from your years in homicide and how their last expressions have been etched into your memory; of your parents and their incessant pushing for college and their disappointment when you joined the force. 

and you learned about the strong curve of his arms as he held you in his arms the first time you had shot and killed a perp who was raising a gun at you. the smell of his cologne and old spice filling your lungs as you tried to steady your breath. the flutter of his lips against your ear as he whispered that it was going to be ok. you learned about the roughness of his voice when he called you, late at night after drinking away his sorrows of his previous marriage at the bar and you learned about how he nursed his his hangovers the subsequent day when you curled up with him on his couch, not quite touching, after you had come over the night before to make sure he had gotten home safe and didn’t choke on his own vomit. you learned about the unfamiliar pressure of your chest as you realized that somehow, somewhere down the line of cold morning rides around the city, warm coffee, inside jokes, and progressively lingering stares across the squad room - you were in love. 

and now you were learning about his hostage negotiation skills.

it was a mistake to have spoken to the professor’s wife before you arrived at the classroom. she seemed entirely too calm about the matter, methodically pouring you and nick tea as she answered your question in short, snipped sentences. you made sure to note the gun cabinet as you left through the front door. you didn’t note the cell phone in her hand as she closed the door behind you. 

“stay back or i swear i’ll shoot her.” professor hershaw’s hand trembled as he kept pressing the metal into your head. 

“ok! ok! i’m staying back.” nick stopped his progress towards you. you could see the slight shake of his legs from the tension. 

“put your weapon down!” the professor barks behind you. 

 nick lifts his hands and your breath caught in your throat as he slowly kneels places his gun on the floor. he wasn’t wearing a bulletproof vest. you hadn’t expected a confrontation like this. he was completely open and exposed to a man with a gun.

since you had worked closely with the dead prior to this position, you had often thought about how you would die. you knew it was possible you could die in the line of duty. hundreds did every day. but you didn’t think it would be here. in front of nick. in front of the man you’ve been in love with for the past year. you didn’t think it would be before he taught you how to dance or cook or whether he would ever fix the radiator in his car. before you ever felt his lips against your and whether that would feel as slow and passionate as you had often fantasized it would. before you even had the chance to tell him how you felt. so many plot lines unfulfilled. so many questions left unanswered. but at the moment, all you could think about was how you wanted to look into his eyes once more before you died.

“you’re a good man. you got kids - good ones. i’ve met them -” nick’s tone was placating, slow.

“don’t talk about my children!” the professor jerked his gun, knocking your head a bit to the side, “i know they’re good. i raised them. better than the whores that walk through these halls. in these classrooms.”

“yea. yea i understand professor. it’s unfair - all of them just get to walk around like they own the place. like there’s no consequences for them -”

“exactly,” you could feel his spittle on the back of your head, “i showed them the lesson they deserved.” 

nick’s eyes moved from the perp to meet yours. and a shudder of warmth flowed through you as you saw fear, anger, determination - and something else that as more than you could process at the moment. but you did catch his slight nod. “that’s right. you punished them. rightfully so. because - it’s like you wrote about right? ‘Vengeance comes from the individual and punishment from God.’“

"you - you read victor hugo?” the professor stuttered, his arm slacked slightly in shock and there it was. you immediately ripped yourself from his arms as he staggered back in surprise. you dived for the floor as you heard the professor’s shout echo on the walls of the lecture hall and a gunshot. and then silence. 

you scrambled up, drawing your weapon quickly, your heart in your chest, terrified at what you might see. 

“call a bus!” you felt your entire body relax as you saw nick towering over the professor with his gun drawn and a bullet wound in the professor’s shoulder. 

later, much later, after you had been subject to medical exams by ems (albeit quite reluctantly) with nick hovering behind the paramedic’s shoulder like an unfriendly poltergeist that radiated anxiety, after liv had ordered you to take a few days, after you had returned to the squad room to fill out some paperwork in nick’s car as the both of you sat in heavy silence with too many things left unsaid between you two. you finally had a moment alone with your partner. 

most of the team had left with liv retiring to her office to have a quick call with the babysitter and say goodnight to noah. fin had clapped you on the shoulder and amanda had stopped by with coffee and an offer to let her know if you needed anything before she left to take care of the kids. the night shift had transferred in and you were finishing up the last words of the report when you sensed a presence and looked up. nick was standing by your desk, his lips in a firm line and brow furrowed. 

“can we talk?” he gestured towards the bunks. your heart flipped as you nodded, scribbling your signature onto the paperwork and shutting the file.

nick closed the door behind you. and you waited until the silence between you became unbearable.

“thank you for everything today nick. i mean - you saved my life. i could have died today and -”

“i know.” his voice seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet room. nick paced the floor, his hands gripping at his thick, dark hair. “i know you could’ve died. and i can’t stop seeing it. there’s just - i can’t describe how i felt watching him touch you. seeing how afraid you were. and how f**king helpless i was when all i wanted to do was just take your place - and when i finally got him away from you - i just wanted to -” he collapsed on a bunk and covered his eyes with his palms. 

you moved towards him, placing your hands on his shoulders, feeling the crisp fabric of his shirt crinkle under the heat of your hands. 

“you just wanted to what?”

nick lifted his head to meet your gaze, “you know you’re my partner. and there’s nothing i wouldn’t do to protect you. you’ve been there through everything this past year and i kept telling myself that i didn’t deserve everything you’ve been doing for me - didn’t deserve you.”  

you inhaled sharply, “nick - “

“i love you. there, i said it. and that was all i could think about today. losing someone else in my life that i love.” he sighed, rubbing his hand across his face, “i’ve been in love with you since that christmas party when you walked in with discount boy george - “

“kevin,” you automatically corrected the name of your old friend from college that you had brought as a date. 

“and you were just so beautiful. and i know that i don’t deserve you. but i just couldn’t stop wanting you. hoping for you. and it’s so selfish -”

he never got to finish his sentence. because by that point you had fully processed his words. you framed his face in your hands, bent down and pressed your lips against his. 

and suddenly all you could think, feel or taste was nick and his mouth moving against yours - warm, firm, steady - just like him. you were pushed back as nick got up from the bunk, his hands gripping your waist. you separated for a moment, drawing back to look into his eyes. beautiful brown. just like you never thought you would ever see again. 

and then nick pushed his body against yours, pressing you against the wall of the bunk room, his lips sweeping the corners of your mouth before exploring down your neck. 

“f**k - i thought i was going to lose you.” he growled, puncturing each word with a kiss and a nip at your neck. you gasped, your fingers diving deep into his hair. 

“never - you’ll never lose me nick. i never want to be apart from you.” 

nick dragged his face up to your, pulling you into a ferocious kiss, dominating you as his tongue swept through your mouth. his hands, large and seemingly burning, explored your back, and you shivered his his fingers played with the hem of your shirt. 

“everything about you,” his lips were everywhere, your hair, forehead, cheeks, “i cannot lose - do you understand me mi alma.” he closed his eyes, muttering in spanish as he held you close.  

you nodded, feeling intoxicated in his presence, his smell, the feeling of his body against yours. your hands gripped his shirt pulling him to you, anchoring yourself in the storm of his affection, “i got you. i love you too nick. i’m ok. i’m going to be ok.” you repeated the last sentence as nick’s body slowly went lax. 

he pressed his forehead to yours, and your breath caught at the vulnerability in his expression. “i know you’re going to be ok. it’ll just take a while before i get the image of you held at gunpoint out of my head every second of the day.” 

you smiled, pressing your hand against his cheek, “then i’ll be right beside you. reminding you that i’m right here.” his lips twitched as he grasped one of your hands from his chest, sweeping kisses across his knuckles.

“i know quierida.” 

you both stood in silence for a moment, basking in the presence of each other and the feelings you had just released. your heart felt lighter than it had in a very long time, and the butterflies in your stomach settled as nick’s body heat calmed you. 

“i’m tired, and i want to go home. come with me?” your request was bold but you trusted nick more than anyone to keep you safe. and you weren’t looking forward to the nightmares you knew would be resurfacing.

“i wouldn’t be anywhere else.” nick pressed kisses across your hairline. 

you both exited the bunks, and tried to suppress the red that bloomed across your faces. liv was exiting her office with her coat on and her bag slung on her shoulder. she raised an eyebrow as you both approached her.

“well i expect not you see you here for a few days,” she reiterated to you, “good night guys - try not to stay too late.” she turned and then paused, “and i expect the paperwork about your relationship on my desk by the time you get back from leave.” without another word, olivia exited to the elevators.

“oh god.” you placed your head in your hands, unable to stop the burning in your face and neck. nick strolled over to your desk, chuckling. 

“well she’s captain for a reason. you really can’t get anything past liv.” 

you rolled your eyes, “great, more paperwork to do then.” 

nick smiled as he swooped down for another quick kiss when no one was watching, “it’s all for a good cause. c’mon, let’s grab your bag and go. it’s late.” 

you laughed and nodded. grabbing your coat off the back of your chair and putting it on. as you and nick walked out of the station, hand-in-hand, a thought occurred to you - 

“when did you read victor hugo?”

[nhlandotherimagines]

Family isn’t Always Blood-Part 3

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 |

Summary: will it be a boy? A girl? Will Kinsey and Elias be able to plan a wedding while expecting? Guess you’ll have to find out.

Author’s Notes: This took me WAY too long I’m sorry! Let me know what you think though? Was it what you expected? Was it bad? Good? I’d love to hear from you :)

Word Count: approx. 4.5k

Warnings: The usual really. Lots of crying (both happy and sad tears), pregnancy, absent parents, strong language, nothing too crazy though. Let me know if there is anything I should add here please

3…

2…

1!

Elias’ fingers find the zipper on the garment bag, and I place my hand gently over his. His hand shakes under mine, and although I know it’s mostly excitement, I can tell he's nervous as we slowly pull down the zipper together.

As the garment bag falls away, my heart stops. There is no way this is happening, not right now! Elias’ hand drops from mine as he steps back slightly, as the people around me seem to let out a collective gasp. Tears burn my eyes, and before I can stop them, they’re falling down my face. This is NOT what I expected.

“Kinsey?” Elias’ voice is nervous, likely because I’ve yet to react to the scene in front of me. The jersey was not pink, or blue. In fact it wasn’t even a jersey at all. In place of the jersey we had all been anticipating, was a white onesie with red lettering across the front. 

My hands at some point made their way to my face as I’m now using them to hold in the ugly sobs wracking my body. The tears in my eyes blurring the words in front of me, but it doesn’t matter, because I’ll never forget them. I’ll never unsee them. The five words that changed my life. 

WILL YOU MARRY MY DADDY?

“Baby, turn around. Please?” Elias' voice is gentle when he speaks, but it sounds loud in the intense silence that has settled over everyone.

I slowly turn around, my knees feel weak, my vision is blurred, and my entire body is trembling. It’s a miracle I’m still standing, and even breathing for that matter. When I’ve finally turned around completely, my whole world stops. Elias slowly drops down on one knee, and as he looks up at me with those beautiful blue eyes no one else is here. It’s just him and I at this moment. A nervous smile on his face as he slowly pulls open the velvet box I hadn’t even noticed until now, I lose it. I collapse to my knees in front of him, arms wrapping tightly around his neck and as I cry into his shoulder.

“Last time I checked I’m the only one supposed to be on their knee for this.” Elias chuckles, and the room around us does the same, reminding me we aren’t alone. I lean back to look at him, but don’t let go. His face is blotchy, and his eyes are bloodshot as tears stream silently down his face. “Kins, you amaze me more and more each day. You’re an amazing woman, girlfriend, mother, and there is absolutely no question that you’d make the best wife. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to make you mine. Kinsey Waters, will you marry me?”

“R-really?” The word is choked out in between breaths, as I search his face for hesitation.

“Yes!” He chuckles, lifting the ring up in front of my face. He shakes it teasingly, eyebrows raising as if to say ‘would I be lying?’.

“Yes.” The word tumbles past my lips, and I can’t stop it. Not that I want to. “Oh my god! Yes!” The squeal that escapes me is quickly drowned out by the cheers surrounding me, as I gather Elias’ face in my hands and crash my lips to his.

I cling to Elias like I don’t want to let go, grasping at his shirt, his hair, anything to ground myself. The kiss, the moment, this man; it’s all so overwhelming. I never want it to end. 

As it turns out, not everyone is on board with that. “Okay! Okay! That’s enough, can we please find out about the baby. There will be time to fornicate after we’re all gone!” Brock yells from behind the camera, as more laughter fills the apartment.

Elias groans in response, but pulls away. I smile brightly as he slips the ring onto my finger, and for the first time I actually look at the ring. It’s simple, not too flashy, and yet I know if I saw the receipt I’d likely vomit at the price tag. It’s elegant. It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of and so much more. “It’s perfect.” I breathe out, and Elias chuckles. Bringing my hand to his lips he places a gentle kiss to my knuckles before rising to his feet, helping me off the floor in the process.

“Please tell me you have the actual jersey somewhere.” I giggle, catching Brock tapping his foot impatiently out of the corner of my eye.

“I do, one sec!” Elias quickly leaves the room, and I’m immediately swarmed by the other WAGs and Brock. Brock is quick to zoom in on the ring with the camera, as he makes commentary that is definitely not needed, but something Elias and I will both enjoy when we watch the recording back later.

“Okay! ” Elias announces, as he makes his way back into the room. “Are you ready for the real thing?” He’s now holding an identical garment bag to the one we had unzipped minutes prior, and I can’t help but wonder just how difficult this whole surprise was to pull off.

Elias removes the first hanger from the stall, and replaces it with the new garment bag. He motions me over, a large grin on his face, as everyone goes back to where they had previously been standing.

Elias’ hand finds mine again, as we both grip the tiny zipper. It feels different this time. Maybe it’s the ring sitting on my finger, or maybe it’s just the adrenaline coursing through my veins. As the countdown begins around us for the second time today, I become more and more impatient.

3…

2…

1! 

My stomach flutters, and I can’t bring myself to look as Elias’ hand moves with my own to pull down the zipper. Instead I watch him. His eyes bright as they seemingly shimmer with excitement. He’s so beautiful, and he’s mine. My fiancé, and the father of my child. The new weight on my ring finger, and my round stomach physical proof of just that. 

Almost instantaneously, I feel his hand fall from mine and it finds his face, along with the other. He falls again to one knee, but this time he cries into his hands as everyone around us erupts into cheers. The moment feels absolutely surreal, and overwhelming, and I have yet to even look at the tiny jersey in the garment bag. It doesn’t feel like it matters, not in this moment anyway. The only things that matter are that we are happy, life is good, it’s pink, and we are a family. It’s pink.

Immediately my eyes snap back to the now open garment bag that my eyes had previously skipped over. The tiny jersey hanging before me was a tiny replica of the one I was wearing. It’s pink alright. It’s a girl.

As I turn back to Elias, his arms wrap around my waist as he begins whispering against my stomach. Again, all of his words muttered in Swedish. All I can make out is ‘I love you”, and ‘my girls’, and even without understanding any of the other words, my heart swells and tears wet my cheeks again.

I card my fingers through his hair, the beautiful ring standing out even more against the blonde. Cameras and flashes, along with many cheers and exclamations of ‘I knew it!’, fill both the room and my heart. This is it, the family I’ve always craved. Although it may not be conventional, it’s mine. 

———

The movie Elias is playing on the tv does little to hold my attention. Not even because it’s bad, in fact it’s one of my favourites, but my head is all over the place today. 

“Everything okay love?” Elias asks, eyebrows furrowed in worry when I look at him. I nod, but it’s evidently not enough for him to believe me. “Talk to me Kins.” He continues, pressing pause on the movie, removing my only form of distraction.

“She doesn’t have a name.” I’m deflecting, and Elias knows it. Instead of pressing the issue further though, he smiles sweetly over at me. I’m stretched out comfortably across the majority of the couch, my legs draping across his lap. His hand lightly rubs my thigh in comfort. 

“Well did you have any in mind?” I shake my head stretching my hands over my growing bump, my ring on full display. Elias clears his throat, and I can tell he wants to say something, but he looks nervous. “What about your mom?”

“What about her?” My response is unnecessarily rude, but his question caught me completely off guard. He’s been trying for months to get me to talk about her, and I’ve successfully shut him down every time.

“Did you maybe want to incorporate her name?” His eyes refuse to meet my own, instead they stay fixed on his fingers that are busying themselves with the hem of my sweats. The scoff that leaves my mouth is dramatic, sure, but I’m beyond pissed he’d even make that suggestion.

“Why would I? She’s done nothing for me.” 

Elias’ face falls, and his eyes meet mine. The look of pity he sends me would normally make me feel better, but today it makes me even more angry. “I’m sorry, I just thought-“

“Yeah well you thought wrong didn’t you!” I snap, cutting him off as I rise to my feet. I stand up too quickly, and immediately I feel light headed. My knees buckle a bit, and my vision goes fuzzy momentarily. Elias is quick to his feet, hands finding my waist to steady me. 

Once my vision is back, and I feel steady again, I push away from Elias. He calls after me, but I just keep walking. 

It’s not his fault, and I’m being dramatic. As soon as I step into our shared room, I know I’m out of line. It’s embarrassing, my whole life is. How can I tell someone, like Elias, who loves their mom dearly, that when I think of the woman who gave birth to me, the thoughts aren’t pleasant. Very little about my childhood was. Yes, I sound ungrateful, and to a degree I am. There were always good times, always. However it’s hard to look back fondly on those times, when almost all of them are plagued with heartbreak or disappointment in some form or another. 

As I close the bedroom door behind me angrily, I pull off my sweats and crawl into the empty bed. Though I’ve slept without Elias many nights given his schedule, the bed has never felt so lonely. Tears soak my pillowcase, but my body barely even reacts. No dramatic sobbing, or trembling. I just lay here, numb, tears flowing steadily.

After what felt like forever, but was likely only a few minutes, the bedroom door creaks open. I don’t dare to acknowledge Elias as he closes the door behind him quietly. I lay silently, my back to him, as he removes his shirt. The covers pull back, and I feel the bed dip as he climbs in behind me.

We both lay there silently for a moment, neither of us moving. Only a few inches separate us, but they feel like miles. I can’t take the silence, or the fact that I can practically hear the gears turning in my fiancé’s head.

“I’m sorry.” I mumble, sniffling slightly. Elias lets out a breath, before wrapping himself around me. He places a gentle kiss to my head, letting his hand travel under my shirt to rest on my bare stomach.

“Me too.” He whispers into my hair. “I should’ve known, I just thought because it was a tradition, that maybe you’d want to. I didn’t mean to upset you Kins. I’m really sorry.” His voice shakes a little, but he takes a breath again to steady himself before adding, “I love you.”

Before I can even respond to him, it hits me. I sit up quickly, and Elias’ arm falls into my lap. He pushes himself up on his elbows, eyes widening with concern. “Adeline.”

“What?” He is obviously confused, and I can’t blame him. I just ignored his entire apology to blurt out some random name.

“Adeline Irene Pettersson. Addy for short.” I pause, suddenly feeling embarrassed by my wave of excitement. “I don’t know. What do you think?” I pray the nerves aren’t apparent in my voice. Picking a name for a person is a big deal, it has to be perfect.

“Adeline.” Elias repeats the name out loud thoughtfully. The name rolls off of his tongue beautifully, and I can’t fight the smile growing on my face. “Kinsey, I think it’s perfect.”

Elias rolls onto my legs, his face resting just in front of my stomach. I lean back, and run a hand through his hair. 

Placing soft kisses to my stomach, Elias once again whispers to the baby. “Adeline, you have the most amazing momma. She loves you so much. Probably more than she loves me, and that’s a lot.” I can’t help but giggle softly at his words, despite the tears in my eyes. “You’re so loved, and we cannot wait to meet you.”

I smile down at Elias, a single tear slipping down my face. He returns the smile, but it quickly falls as my eyes widen in shock. “She’s kicking!” I practically scream, grabbing Elias’ wrist, bringing his hand over to where I had just felt our daughter kick. He waits hopefully for more movement. 

Moments pass, and still nothing. “C’mon Addy, do it for daddy.” I plead, my heart breaking at the disappointment on Elias’ face.

As if she had actually understood the task she’d been given, the baby kicks even harder than before. Her foot jams hard into my stomach, right against her father’s waiting palm. The feeling, although still relatively new for me, was an entirely new experience for him. His eyes nearly pop out of his head, jaw practically hitting the floor. 

“A daddy’s girl already?” I giggle, another tear slipping down my cheek. “There is no hope for me now.”

Elias shakes his head, and glances up at me briefly. His eyes find mine for just a second, with a smile on his face he looks back at my stomach. “You’re not going to be a daddy’s girl or a momma’s girl are you Addy?” He whispers, as the baby kicks again as if in response to his question. “You’re gonna be your own girl. Strong and independent, just like your momma.”

Elias fell asleep like that a while later. Head resting on my hip, a hand on my stomach, while my hands threaded through his soft hair. Life is good. I have a family now, and I would do anything for either of them. “I will make sure you never question my love for you both. No one deserves that.” I whisper before drifting to sleep myself.

———

“Shit!” Something hitting the floor loudly, followed immediately by Elias cursing wakes me. I’m quickly on my feet and rushing down the hall. I had been asleep on the couch, having passed out while reading some parenting book. So, when I round the corner into our bedroom, I’m confused to find it lacking my fiancé’s presence.

“Elias? Where are you?” I call out, fear lacing my words. 

“I’m in here sweetheart.” He calls back. I follow his voice further down the hall to the guest room.

As I reach the doorway of the guest room, the scene in front of me has a giggle bubbling up my throat. Elias is on the floor, surrounded by various tools and wooden pieces, a frustrated, and thoroughly exhausted look painting his face. “Everything okay in here?”

“Wha- oh yeah.” He huffs, tucking a pencil behind his ear. He’s holding two identical pieces of wood in either hand, letting out another noise of frustration. 

“Whatcha doing?” I place the back of my hand over my mouth trying to suppress my laughter, though my smile is audible in my words.

“Well.” He groans, placing both pieces down before pulling himself to his feet. “The plan was to have the crib together before you woke up from your nap.” He walks to me placing his hands softly on my hips. “Though, as you can see, that hasn’t happened.”

“Well the instructions can’t be that confusing are they?” I smile, and his face falls slightly. “You did use the instructions. Right?” Elias’ cheeks darken, and his eyes fall to his feet. 

“I thought I could do it on my own.” He mumbles, and there is no stopping my laugh now. He frowns in embarrassment, as I do my best to catch my breath. 

“Babe! The instructions don’t do it for you, they are a guideline for you to do it. On your own.” I explain shaking my head with a giggle, and pushing past him into the room. I quickly find the instructions crumpled into a ball on the floor. I unfold it, and read through it quickly. 

“Well?” His voice hopeful, as he watches me inspect the now crinkled paper. 

“Yeah I have no idea.” I sigh, leaning against the wall. “Time to call in the boys I think.”

———

“Who thought it was wise to let the three of you do this?” I giggle, placing three beer down on the dresser.

“You?” Quinn answers, eyebrows furrowed in confusion while Elias sends me a glare. 

“Oh right. Well I’ll just blame my poor judgement on the pregnancy.” 

Elias is obviously getting quite flustered about the whole process. He curses in Swedish, while poor Quinn sits beside him looking scared for his life. Brock finally finishes screwing two pieces together, and beams over at me before grabbing a beer. “Thanks Kins!”

“You’re very welcome Brock.” I place a hand on my stomach and make a point of talking dramatically. “See Addy? That’s why uncle Brock is our favourite.” 

“Addy?” Quinn and Brock both ask in unison. 

“Adeline. Addy for short.” Elias explains, with a smile bright enough to blind someone.

“What do you guys think?” I ask, pulling my lip between my teeth. Sure, we don’t need anyone’s approval, but their opinions are very important to both Elias and myself.

“It’s cute!” Quinn smiles at me.

“Cute?” Brock sends Quinn a look I could only describe as a mix between shock and disappointment. My heart rate increases. Great Brock hates it! “It's absolutely beautiful!”

The sigh of relief that leaves my body has all three men laughing. I can’t help but join in, as the three of them begin bickering over the next step in the crib building process. They are always so chaotic, and yet I love every second of the chaos. This baby will likely learn all kinds of trouble from Brock and Quinn, but I certainly wouldn’t want it any other way.

———

As my pregnancy progresses, Elias becomes more and more doting almost daily. Not letting me lift anything bigger than a book, tying my shoes, helping me get dressed, you name it and he’s done it. Honestly, it’s become slightly annoying. On nights like this though, I truly appreciate it. 

Elias sits on one end of the couch, as I lay across its length, my feet in his lap. He rubs the balls of my feet, as I write in the wedding planner he’d purchased not long after our engagement. He smiles softly at me, as I chew the end of my pen deep in thought as I stare at the guest list. 

“How many groomsmen do you want?” The question falls past my lips as he reaches over to pull the pen from between my teeth.

“Well, definitely I’d want my brother as my best man, and probably three more guys. To keep it even just how you like it.” Elias winks, nudging my leg with a chuckle. I roll my eyes, but smile anyway, because he’s absolutely right. Even numbers are always nice.

“Okay.” Four people is reasonable, but now I have to find a maid of honour and three bridesmaids. That shouldn’t be hard, but I have no idea who to ask. Holly for sure was a given, but beyond her I wouldn’t even know where to start. 

“Are we inviting your parents?” Elias’ question comes entirely out of left field, and it feels like someone punched me in the throat. Were we? Do I want to? Should I? They only know about Elias from a singular instagram post. They don’t even know about the baby. 

Elias must see the gears in my head turning, because he sends me a soft smile. “Why don’t we make invitations for them, and you can decide later if you want to send them or not? No need to let it stress you out too much babe.”

Reluctantly I agree. Would I regret not inviting them? Would I regret inviting them?

———

I’ve spent the last week making the invitations, painting each by hand. Was it crazy to do? Yes absolutely. I know that, but I want them to be personal.

“Have you even moved since I left?” Elias’ voice startles me. He left some time ago for his morning practice, at that point I had already been up working on them for an hour. He chuckles as I shrug, and places a kiss to my temple. “You’re crazy.”

“And yet, you’re going to marry me.” I tease, sticking my tongue out at him. 

He places a sweet kiss to my lips, pulling away with a smirk. “Who told you that?” 

Rolling my eyes, I shove a hand playfully into his chest. “Well you don’t have to, but if I just spent a whole week making these invitations and there isn’t going to be a wedding,” I pause sending him a ‘threatening’ glare. “You better run Pettersson.”

Throwing his head back, Elias laughs heartily. Hand clutching his stomach, as he struggles to catch his breath. “You’re adorable.” He manages to get out between laughs.

“Great, so you’ll drop these off at the post office on your way to the rink later.” Punctuating my request with a wink. 

A groan leaves my body as I pull myself from the chair at the kitchen table. Elias is quickly by my side in aid, no longer laughing. His face twists in concern, hands finding my hips. “Don’t worry babe, I’ll drop them off. Now come nap with me?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead he wraps a hand softly around my wrist, pulling me gently in the direction of our bedroom. 

I can’t argue. Instead I follow him, body aching from how I’d been sitting at the table all morning. Elias carefully pulls back the covers, rearranging my pillows, and strips down to just his sweats. I quietly thank him as I attempt to get comfortable, something that’s become increasingly more difficult as of late. 

Climbing in behind me, Elias pulls me into his side and places a hand gently across my growing bump. “You going to let Momma rest Addy?” He asks softly, eyes already closing. I watch him closely, and a small smile forms on his face as he rubs gentle circles on my stomach.

“You know watching someone sleep is kind of weird.” His voice is gravely and my face flushes in embarrassment.

“I wasn’t-“

“Mhm.” His lips quirk up into a smirk, eyes not opening once. “Get some rest babe.”

“Fine.” I grumble, placing my head on his chest. His breathing evens out, and his heart beat is steady in my ear. I place a hand on his chest, curling into his side the best I can given the fact my stomach is in the way. My fingers lazily trace patterns across his bare chest, eyes beginning to feel heavy.

“Love you Kins.” Elias’ voice is low, and I can hear how tired he is.

“Love you too Lias.”

It’s not long before Elias is snoring quietly beneath me. Everything feels so right, here in his arms. Like nothing bad could happen. With the feeling of ease settling into my bones, it isn’t long before I’m falling asleep too.

———

Somehow I managed to sleep through Elias getting up and getting ready. When I finally wake up, he is long gone. 

Picking up my phone, my face lights up at the message displayed on my screen.

Elias❤️: I let you sleep. You needed it. Don’t worry though, the invitations were mailed. There is some pizza in the fridge for you if you want it. See you tonight xx

I respond with a quick thank you text, making sure to wish him luck with his game. Grabbing some pizza I settle into the sofa, and turn the game on. 

Watching Elias play hockey always manages to put a smile on my face. He’s so incredibly talented, and extremely humble. It’s one of the many things I love about him. 

No matter how important hockey is to him though, he always makes sure I know that our family is more important. Always. It’s the reassurance I never knew I needed, but Elias has always made sure it’s there without being asked.

———

Lazy Sundays have become somewhat routine for Elias and I. We wake up, Elias works out while I write, we eat breakfast together, and we spend the rest of the day working on our own things. Today has gone a lot like that. 

Currently I’m editing some of my writings while Elias scrolls through Instagram from his spot beside me. Aside from the clicking of my keyboard as I type, and an occasional chuckle from Elias, the room is peaceful. That is until there is a knock on the door. “Babe can you answer that please?” 

Elias hums in response, pulling himself from the couch. We aren’t expecting anyone, but it’s not uncommon for one of the boys to drop in, or to have someone trying to sell us something on a Sunday. So much to my surprise it’s a woman’s voice at the door, asking for me specifically. “Is Kinsey here?”

Elias walks back into the living room, a look of confusion on his face. “There is someone at the door for you babe?” His statement sounds more like a question, and has my heart rate increasing. Who could be at the door looking for me? What happened?

Setting my laptop on the coffee table, I pull myself awkwardly from the couch. I take a moment to adjust my tshirt and fix my hair before rounding the corner. The figure standing in the doorway, has me stopping dead in my tracks. My face pales, as my body goes rigid. This must be some sick joke.

Grasped in her hand is an envelope. One I recognize well, because I had sealed it weeks ago. I knew making that invite was a bad idea. 

“Mom?”

———

Another cliff hanger? Why not? Let me know what you think! Part 4 is going to take some time, but I will get it out eventually I promise!

Tagging: @anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya @heatherawoowoo @dripkingpetey @ya-pucking-nerd @jonnytoews19

[dolls-self-ships]

It’s Going To Be Okay

(a purely comfort/fluff fic where Hades comforts a distraught Kassandra in the middle of the night because ya girl started feeling sad again)

ship: pomegranate seeds (hades/kassandra)

cw: crying, super subtly and lightly implied ‘not wanting to live like this’, implied mentions of intrusive thoughts (nothing specific)

“Hey, hey, sweetheart, look at me, look at me.”

Warm, boney hands gently cupped the princess’s tear-stained cheeks as she wept. It was late, actually, it was in the dead of night,(no pun intended) maybe 1, 2 am. All was silent except for the heaving, choppy breaths and sobs coming from the princess as she sat knees bent on her shared bed with her fiancé, the lord of the underworld, Hades. Not really the kind of guy you’d go to in a time of crisis, because you’d figure he’d just want to make it worse. But not with this, no, this was different. The room was pitch black, no other light except for the flames on the God’s head and his yellow, slightly glow-in-the-dark eyes, which both illuminated his lovers distraught face.

“You’re okay, hey, they’re just thoughts, they can’t hurt‘cha.”

Kassandra let herself fall into his chest as a loud cry escaped her, it was all she felt like she could do. Immediately on instinct, Hades enclosed her tightly in his arms, comfortingly petting her soft hair as he shushed her.

“why…” the woman whispered in between tears. “why won’t they go awayyyy?” she wailed, feeling like such a horrible person, in so much pain she wanted to scream.

Hades felt a pang in his cold, dead heart, like someone had reached in and started grinding it into a powder. He hated, hated seeing her like this. It was worse than Tartarus, and he’s seen the stuff that goes on in there, he runs the place. “I… wish I could tell ya, babe, but.. I dunno..” he sighed, looking down at her heaving shoulders and shaking body covered by her pink nightgown. Hades began to rub her back in a soothing circular motion, hoping that might help her calm down a bit.

“I don’t want to be this person.. I don’t want to be dangerous..” The princess sniffled.

Hades looked shocked for a second, he shook his head. “Hey, you are the least dangerous person I know, trust me.”

She didn’t deserve this, and Hades knew that, she was the most… friendly, bright and kind person in the cosmos. But the princess felt otherwise, she thought because she occasionally had a nasty thought or two, she was suddenly worse than, well, him.

“wh..” the princess took a gulp of air, hoping to find some more strength to speak. “why is this happening to me..”

“I…” in truth, Hades didn’t have an answer for that. Which bothered him to no end, what’s the point of being a god if you can’t be omniscient? “I couldn’t tell ya that either, sweetheart.”

There was a bit of a long silence, and some muted sniffles and sobs from the princess. For a few minutes it was nothing but the dark, and the warming embrace of the soon-to-be-married couple until the princess spoke up in a whisper.

“.. I don’t know if I can live like this..”

Hades’s eyes widened as a surge of panic shot through him, which didn’t happen often. But this set something off for him, there was no way she was suggesting… that. Mhm, no not on his godforsaken watch. Quickly, but trying to still be gentle, he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back to face him so that their eyes could meet. “Whoa, whoa whoa whoa, yes, you can, okay? Look,” Hades, deciding to put on his ‘smooth-talk’ a bit to try and make her feel some levity, gave her a small, cheesy smile. “we gotta plaaan, ‘member? After our wedding we have that thing with the physiatrist and we’ll get’cha diagnosed get you to therapy maybe I dunno some meds and badabing you’re all cured boom done!”

The princess let out a stifled giggle, which Hades internally celebrated. “Well, that’s not exactly how it works, hon.” Kassandra reminded him it wasn’t as ‘quick and easy’ as he was selling it to be, chariot-salesman indeed. A flood of new worries overcame the princess as her face slowly started to drop again, her lips becoming downturned and her eyebrows slanting upwards. “And what if-?”

Hades knew exactly what she was going to say, he lightly pressed a finger to her lips with an affectionate “shhhh”. “We’ll worry about that, if, and or when it happens, babe.”

Kassandra sighed, leaning into Hades’s hand as it moved to cradle the side of her face. Another tear slipped out from her eye, which his thumb caught halfway down. “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be. You’re with me~”

Another small chuckle escaped Kassandra, a smile threatening to put her in a slightly better mood. Well, with Hades in the room it was hard for her not to be. And the same went for him with her.

“Can we just.. stay up for a bit?” Kassandra proposed, really not wanting to have to fall back asleep and be alone in her head with all those thoughts and worries, despite her fiancé being right next to her.

Hades waved a hand, a cool smile plastered on his face. “Yeahhh suuuure of course whatever you want! I’ll get Pain and Panic to turn on the tv for us okay? How’s that sound, good?”

Kass nodded, her smile growing a bit. “That sounds good.” She looked away for a second before Hades redirected her gaze back to him, using his hand that cupped her cheek still.

“And hey” he paused “I’ll always, be here for you. Okay? No matter what. Cross my heart and hope ta- well, it’s uh… little late for that but eh… heh, you-you get what I mean.”

A full blown giggle escaped the princess’s lips, finally, that’s the sweet sound that Hades wanted to hear.

“I know exactly what you mean, love, thank you.”

[lizzy-williams]

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 ▼

((originally posted on my Wattpad, cinnamon_opal))

★ Warnings: Some angst, SMUT!!!

★Theme Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kmAZWKdCvmII 

(Wanna Be Adored by The Stone Roses)

masterlist

𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑬 𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑺𝑬𝑬𝑰𝑵𝑮  you like this. Tears streaming, hair messed up from how many times you've run your hands through it, and your body quivering in dread. You were so lost. All you could think about is what you did wrong. You two stood in the kitchen for an hour now.

"What did I do, Timothée?" You sobbed, trying to wipe away tears, new ones replacing the old, "Why?"

"I'm sorry, I just...," he hesitated, "You just can't keep up with my life. I'm always away and you said it yourself, you want to see me more but you can't,"

"So that's what this is about? Tim, you've been in so many legendary movies to supply your life of luxury for at least another 30 years!" You were now angry, your emotions blinding you, "You're breaking up with your fiancé for a career that's plummeting??"

"Excuse me, plummetting? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Timothée paused and walked towards you and got so close, it frightened you as you bit the inside of your cheek, wishing you could turn back time.

"Everyone knows that your career is dropping. Your golden days are over, Tim. But you can't let go of that! Everybody knows it." You were now fighting back, raising your voice, "Maybe if you actually went on social media a little more, you could find article upon article talking about how everything is over. The roles you're booking are shit." You poked your finger at him angrily, an offended expression crossing Timothée's face.

"What the fuck do you know? I am one of the biggest names in Hollywood right now. This is what I've always wanted. You want me to throw away my dreams because you want to pump out a few babies and get married? I'm not meant for the white picket fence life that you dream of having!" his voice raised as well, his bare feet pacing across the wooden floor of the kitchen area.

You were now livid. You stomped towards the bedroom, wiping away the tears, no longer feeling like crying.

"Where are you going?" timothée asked annoyed.

"Stay there." You hissed in response, opening the door to your shared room and going right over to your bedside table and opened the top drawer and grabbed a magazine. A Hollywood gossip magazine. You had been meaning to bring this up for a few days.

You walked quickly back into the kitchen, slamming the magazine on the counter across from the one he was leaning against.

"Okay then, Mr. Hotshot, what the fuck is that?" You asked pointing to the cover of the magazine. It showed an image of Timothée with his arm around another girl - a pornstar - as they exited a limousine, the city behind them looking to be Los Angeles.

"Is that what you were doing on your 'work trip'?" You air-quoted, poison seeping from your mouth.

"Babe, you look way too much into this kinda garbage, you really believe this shit?" He asked, taking the magazine and slamming it back down.

"Then who the fuck is she, Timothée??!!" You were boiling over now, Tim seemingly doing the same thing. "WHO?" you pushed him back. You continued to push him until his back hit the counter edge.

"WE FUCKED, OKAY?" He yelled at you, pushing you gently back, "IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED TO HEAR?"

Your world stopped. Everything felt unreal as you felt as if a million pounds was just added to your chest, feeling as if you couldn't breathe. The tears began to spill from your eyes again as your eyes met his. His were also brimming with tears. You two stood in silence, staring at each other, not even knowing what the other would say next.

"Did you really?" You finally broke the silence, your eye contact breaking as you looked at the floor.

There was a long pause, "Yes." He finally said.

You sink down on your knees, not even knowing what to say.

"It didn't mean anything, I swear-"

"Would you have ever told me?" You interrupted him, "Or would you have taken it to your grave?"

He stayed silent.

"Then why Timothée?" You were so heartbroken that your mind was going fuzzy, "Then why did you fuck a PORNSTAR??"

You couldn't help it, but you felt a wave of self-consciousness. He made love to her over you.

"Because you weren't there." He replied, guilt seeping from his words.

"Wow." Was all you could say. You stood up, brushing yourself off.

You then went back into the bedroom, grabbed a duffle bag from the closet, packing him some clothes, phone charger, toothbrush, etc. Storming back into the kitchen, you slammed down the duffle bag onto the ground.

"I want you out." Your eyes tearing up and your voice cracking, "Have fun with your porno slut, you asshole." You stood over the bag, Timothée staring at you in disbelief.

"Is this what you really want?"

"Just get the fuck out of my apartment. I'll get you the rest of your shit later. I just want you out." You were full-on sobbing at this point.

He stared at you blankly.

"Did I fucking stutter?" You cried, picking up the back and shoving to him, taking his arm, and dragging him to the door, "Get the fuck out!!" You screamed, shoving him out into the apartment complex's hallway and slamming the door behind you, your back against the door.

You sobbed harder, sinking down, your heart shattered, feeling so guilty for everything although you did nothing wrong. What the hell were you going to do now?

It was several weeks since you kicked Tim out. The tabloids were everywhere, people wanting answers and interviews with you to find out what happened. Thank god Tim still respected your privacy, because you were never going to talk about that kind of thing with the press. He had sent a friend of his to pick up his things, trying not to talk to you. When he was sober at least. At least 4 times a week, Timothée would call you laving drunk voicemails, pleading you to talk to him and allow him to explain.

Just like tonight.

You sat on the couch watching a show in your sweatpants and sweatshirt, trying to pull your mind away from the fact that the person you wanted most wasn't there with you.

Suddenly your phone rang, making you jump, reaching over to pick it up. The caller ID was as to be expected.

You pushed the green button, pressing the phone up to your ear. You were silent for a second until you spoke up.

"What do you want, Timothée?" You muttered, just loud enough for him to hear and for the phone microphone to pick up.

"Baby?" you heard shuffling on the other line, "Baby, h-hey...," he said softly. Just as you had expected. Drunk.

"Do you need something?"

"I just... wanted to call. To just hear your voice. I just... god, I love you. I'm so sorry, baby, I-" he sounded so sad.

"I'm gonna stop you right there, Timothée." You sat up on your couch, "You say that you love me... just tell me that when you're sober, okay?"

"Baby, please don't go," he whined, desperate for a simple conversation.

"I have to. Call me in the morning."

"No, no, don't you dare hang up this call," he would say through his teeth, getting angry.

"Goodbye, Tim."

"NO, LISTEN, DON'T-" he was cut off from you pressing the red button that hangs up the call.

You sighed, not in the mood for the TV show that was playing anymore. You stood up, turning the TV off and walking back into your bedroom, slumping down on the bed. You pulled the covers over you as tears began to sting your eyes the more you thought about the conversation you were just having. How empty your apartment felt after he was no longer there. Fuck.

Soon enough, you fell into pain-numbing sleep, escaping from what seemed like an endless spiral of negative feelings.

Bang.

The first time you heard it, you were still in a sleep-induced state, thinking it was nothing.

BANG.

Okay, it was definitely something. You slowly sat up out of bed, your bare feet touching the carpet and patting over and out into the kitchen area, hearing the noise again.

"Open up, baby, please, come onnnnn, just open the doooor," a voice on the other side of the door. You didn't even need any hints to know who was on the outside.

"Open the fucking door, babe, I know you're in there," he raised his voice, banging on the door more. Now you had to open up the door before he woke up all your neighbors.

You turned the knob, opening the door a crack. Immediately the smell of alcohol permitted your senses, almost making you gag.

"What is it, Tim."

"Baby, please let me in, I just wanna talk, please baby, I need to talk to you,"

Jesus, he looked like a mess. His hair was messed up to all hell, bags under his eyes, a dirty sweatshirt and black sweatpants. He was pale and looked ill. That's when you spotted the open wound on his forehead. It looked like something you got when you got a bottle hit over your head. You didn't even want to know.

You sighed, thinking you were going to regret this later. You opened the door, pulling him inside.

"We're going to the bathroom," you said, his hand holding yours as you guided him to the hall, his body stumbling back and forth, trying to regain balance. You opened the bathroom door, sitting him on the counter.

A few seconds later, you got some disinfectant and a few other things to help make him look less...that. You took off his hoodie that had its fair amount of stains on it. After you had finally finished, you ordered him to take a shower to help him sober up at least a little bit.

You sat there reading a book on the bed, waiting for him to find his way out of the bathroom. You heard the bathroom door open, Tim walking out with sweatpants he had left at the apartment. You had put his other clothes in the wash.

"Hey, uh... I'm done with the shower," he said, your gaze going to him and away from the page of your book.

You nodded your head in confirmation, Tim smiling, trying to act like there wasn't anything wrong.

"You can spend the night on the couch if you want, just until you sober up." you offered.

Timothée stopped and smiled, you could have sworn you saw him tear up, "Even when people are so cruel to you, you always had kindness in your heart for them."

It astounded him that even after everything he'd done, everything he'd said, you still went out of your way to care for him.

"Words can't describe how sorry I am, I...," this time his tears were threatening to fall.

As much as you hated to admit it,  you still loved him and cared for him. You still had a soft spot for him, despite the fact he had done things to you that should never be done to another human being. You could see that he was having a hard time without you. He was a mess, and you could see it when he walked in.

You closed your book and sat up off the bed, opening your arms, motioning him to embrace you. He gave a weak smile, tears finally falling as he walked over to you, taking a seat next to you on the bed as you wrapped your arms around him, his head burying itself into your neck as he began to cry, your hand rubbing his back.

His nose grazed your neck as he lifted his head to give a small kiss to your neck, the pecks continuing to progress, soon turning into passionate kisses along your throat, making you squirm. You couldn't lie, you missed moments like these. Intimate moments.

"Timothée," you started, not wanting to take advantage of his tipsy state.

"Shh, baby, just let me make you feel good," he continued, going down a little lower, nipping and sucking on your collar bone.

"Timothée, you're drunk," you pushed him back slightly, his eyes meeting yours.

"I've wanted nothing more than to come over and show you how much you meant to me. I know I fucked up, and I want nothing more than to take everything back. But without you, I'm so lost. I can't think. You're my everything," he paused, taking your hand in his, "Just please, let me show you how much I need you,"

You nodded your head slowly and quietly. His lips attached to yours, a feeling you had been longing for ever since you shoved him out the door. He began to undress you, throwing your shirt to the side, exposing your breasts making him curse under his breath, his mouth attaching to them almost immediately, swirling his tongue around them, making you release an erotic mewl, the sounds only driving him to kiss down your stomach.

Once he reached the hem of your leggings, he put his fingers underneath the waistband, pulling down both your underwear and pants in one swift movement, making you gasp as he discarded of them quickly, his long fingers grasping the inside of your thighs, gently prodding them apart, completely exposing you.

He slowly leaned his head down to where you wanted him most, his tongue giving you a rough kitten lick right on your clit, making you whine in anticipation. You loved how he knew your body so well, even better than you did.

Your hands found their way to his scalp, running your fingers through his hair, beckoning him to continue. He then took your small hands from his hair and put them in his hands as he began to go down on you, licking and sucking your pussy, making you moan out and grab his hands tighter, his thumb sub-consciously smoothing over the back of your hand, making your legs tingle and your fingers twitch.

"Fuck, Tim," you sighed, his tongue finding its way inside you, making you bite your lip.

"You taste so good, baby," he groaned, the vibrations making you moan out, your head burying itself in the back into the pillows as your eyes began to roll back.

He then detached one of his hands from yours, inserting two fingers, replacing his tongue, making you moan louder, a familiar knot beginning to form, your pussy tingling as he continued to work you, your mind going fuzzy.

"FucK - g-gonna... cum-," you gasped out in parts, Timothée now inserting his fingers quicker and quicker.

Your legs began to shake as you began to release, Timothée taking out his fingers, watching you - marveling - in the sight that he caused. Your back was arched, your hair slightly messy, lips swollen, cum gushing out of your entrance. Your mouth hung open as loud primal moans escaped your mouth, making you feel amazing.

Once you had calmed down, he moved up, pressing a loving kiss to your lips as you kissed back, your hands once again going to his hair, his body pressed up against yours. He then swung his leg over your body so he was straddling you, his head going down and sucking your neck as he lines himself up.

He pauses, looking into your eyes, "I missed you, baby, I missed you so fucking much," he mutters, beginning to insert himself, making you grab onto his arms.

When he fully inserted himself, you let out a small exhale, his lips meeting yours as be gave you time to adjust. It had been a while.

After he paused, he waited for your nod to continue, which you anxiously allowed, determined to have him make you reach nirvana. You were's disappointed, his thrusts gaining speed quickly, more erotic mewls and groans erupting from your chest, only egging him on to continue... to go faster.

"Fuck, I missed you," he breathed, "I missed this tight fuckin pussy. My tight fuckin pussy. Nobody can make me feel the way you do, baby."

His words mixed with the knot once again tightening in your stomach was almost too much, the need for a climax almost painful, as you felt him get close as well. Your core clenched, making his bite his lip, his head going to the side of your neck, going fast as he could manage, which made the feelings in your pussy all the more mind-numbing.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna cum," you whimpered out, making him groan in confirmation.

"Me too baby,"

Suddenly, you felt your legs twitch, your body seizing up so much your muscles felt week, your eyes rolling back as you saw stars in your eyelids. You reached your rapture with complete and utter bliss, Timothée climaxing inside of you, knowing you were on birth control.

He helped you ride out your orgasm as well as his own. Your head was so clouded at this point, you didn't even know where to begin. He pulled out, laying down next to you, pulling you close as your body shook slightly from the leftover pleasure still coursing through your body.

"We don't have to talk about this now," he started.

"Shut up, don't ruin the moment," you snapped with a smile on your face.

"I love you," he said gently, his hands playing with your hair.

"Goodnight, Timothée."

[sunflowersteves]

Unforgivable || ch. two

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Your life with Natasha seemed like pure bliss until the team mistakes you for an agent gone rogue. 

Word count: 2K

Author’s note: Cliff hanger, I knowwww. There will be one more part! I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: angst, fluff!, swearing, angsty plot, basically the whole team is a dick

Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Your feet start to ache as you continue to walk on the dirt road that led from the compound. You honestly had no idea where you were going, your phone was at five percent, and the Avengers had just threatened your life. Tears started to prick your eyes as you thought about Natasha. Anger consumes your thoughts, hot tears, and furrowed eyebrows. How could she not trust your love for her? How did the Avengers even have any information like that?

You blamed her for not trusting you. You blamed her for not trusting her love for you. You blamed her friends for not looking into it more. You blamed her for-

You just sigh and shake your head. A part of you wanted to give her a chance, to go back and see if she believes you. The other part never wanted to see her again, ever. Another part of you growled at the side that wanted to go back; you were almost ashamed of it. The Avengers had threatened you. They threatened your life and never once believed you over some paper.

But you were so confused. Your heart clenched at the thought of never seeing her face again or never having her fiery hair tickle your cheek.

You abruptly stopped as the road split into two. You tried checking the map on your phone but it acted like there were nothing here but fields. You sigh, sitting on a large rock near the road. You felt a vibration from your phone and quickly looked at it.

Hot RedHead: It’s over. I never liked you anyway.

Tears started to fully flow now, your chin wobbling. You started to chew on your lower lip to help stop the raking sobs flowing out of your body but it was no use. You were now leaning against the rock and pulling your knees up, resting your hands in your head. God, this all seemed so pathetic. You really love Nat, you can’t get her out of your head but what does she think of you now?

Natasha’s POV

Natasha was going as fast as she could, turning corners on her motorcycle it almost fell over. She had no idea how far you had gone. She was hoping you were still walking along the road. She knew you would push her away right when you saw her but can she blame you? Her friends made her believe you were a Hydra agent. But all she could think about was cradling you in her arms and telling you she’s sorry, hoping you’ll forgive her.

She knows it’ll take time. However long it’ll take, she doesn’t care. She’ll wait until you’re both 60 and a little wrinkly if she has to. But Nat also understands if you don’t choose her. With the amount of damage, she and her friends caused she doesn’t blame you if you never wanted to see you again. She would definitely respect that choice.

Fire burning anger ignited in herself. She can’t believe how shallow it was to believe her friends who stupidly mistook you for someone else. She felt so much anger towards them, convincing her that you were with her for information. How could they be so stupid? How could she be so stupid to trust them?

She came to a screeching halt as she spotted you leaning on a rock. She propped her motorcycle and carefully walked over. She practically whimpered as she could hear your soft snores. She could see the tear-stained cheeks and her heart constricted. Your nose looked stuffy from all the crying and your eyes had a slight puff to them. 

She presses a hand onto your forehead and could feel the heat radiating off of you. It had been quite a hot day in New York and she didn’t know how long you had sat out here. She sighed and picked you up, laying in her arms you subconsciously snuggled into her. She feared that if she took you on her bike, you would end up falling off. So, walking it is.

Natasha marched along the dirt road, tears flowing down her cheeks. Some dripped down onto her shirt as she couldn’t wipe them. She just whispered “I’m sorry,” over and over again and carried you to the nearest bus station. 

After about an hour of walking, Natasha had finally made it to the bus station. She paid for your ticket and sat you on the bus, head leaning on the window. She looked around and saw that only an old woman sat on the other side. She told the bus driver to keep an eye out for you and she nodded, telling her that no one would touch you. Nat just nodded and started to trek back to the compound.

--

Reader’s POV

It had been a couple of days since Nat broke up with you. You kept telling yourself that you were...handling it but in reality, her leaving had hit you pretty hard. You hadn’t really left your apartment, only going to the store for groceries. You called in for work telling them that you were sick but they knew you were lying. Especially your best friend, Shuri. Right when you called in sick, she immediately asked what was wrong but knew you needed time off. 

You sat on the couch and sadly ate ice cream and started watching The Lovebirds. You would be drowning in your favorite wine but they ran out so you turned to tubs of ice cream. As the movie progresses, you find yourself crying with some tears dropping into your ice cream as Issa Rae and Kumail Nanjiani realize they’re still in love with each other. 

You turned off the TV as the movie was over and was about to get ready for bed, especially since you’ve run out of sick days but something caught your eye. Your bag had sat on the dining room table, completely untouched. A little note stuck out of one of the pockets. You walk over and carefully take the note out.

Meet me at the blockhouse in central park on the 7th, 9 pm.

You sigh, that was tonight. But you knew exactly who it was. You knew Natasha wanted to speak with you, maybe she changed her mind? That definitely explains how you don’t remember ending up on a bus.

You just shook your head, crumbling it up, and tossing it in the trash. There was no way you would fall for that, right? I mean, it’s just the Avengers wanting to throw you in jail or maybe that’s just where they wanted to kill you. You and Nat had met there, her asking you for your number and you had many dates walking around central park. 

They just wanted to reel you in. They were smart, you’d give them that but there’s no utter way you’d go. So, you got ready for bed and fell right asleep. The next morning you had to go to work, as much as you trudged along, groaning loudly as you got dressed. You stayed quiet on the subway as your friend talked your ear off.

You walked into the International Rescue Committee, slightly waving at some of your co-workers. You sat at your desk, doing some paperwork before visiting some of the kids you’ve helped. You especially couldn’t wait to see Peter, who has been attached to your hip since you arrived. You’re typing away, sipping on some coffee until you jumped a bit from a voice behind you.

 “Oh shit, you look awful.” You roll your eyes and give a look at Shuri who’s snickering at your reaction. You and her both turn a bit more serious as you sigh and turn to her small tears forming in your eyes. She wraps her arms around you into a full hug. “Nat broke up with me. Her friends saw my name in a Hydra file and thought I was out to get her.” 

Shuri gasped, hugging tighter. “Did they believe you?” You shook your head and ignored the stares you were getting from you crying in Shuri’s arms. “I see why you took some days off. Don’t worry about it. I’ll fill out your paperwork. Go see Peter.” She smiled brightly as you thanked her, kissing her cheek. “You’re the best boss ever!”

You walked next door to a large and fancy apartment complex where most of the refugees stay. You knew he was playing sports with some of the other kids so you walked past the complex and to the basketball court. “Y/n!” Peter ran towards you, locked you into a huge as you giggled and ruffled Peter’s hair. “Good to see you, kid.” He goes on to ask a bunch of questions, wondering where you’ve been and why you weren’t there. You explained some of it, to which he nodded and then declared to hate the Avengers now.

You laughed but you knew he was serious. He meant well. You and the rest of the kids start playing some basketball, laughing and playing around. What you didn’t notice though was the Avengers walking up to the basketball court. Before they reached you and notified you of their presence, one of the kids fell onto their knee and scraped it pretty bad. 

Loud cries and sobs filled the air and you ran over, inspecting the wound. “Sh, baby, it’s okay. I’ve got you. Peter! Get the aid kit!” He ran into the complex to grab one from the front desk while you rub circles into the little girl’s back. Peter came running back and you took some soap and water, cleaning the wound. “See that bird over there? I want you to look at it okay? See it? It told me the other day that it likes your paw patrol shoes.” 

The little girl cried out only a couple of times as you cleaned the wound and put a power rangers band-aid on her, which you knew was one of her favorites. She clung to your leg asking if you can get her ice cream because it still hurts. You laugh and nod, holding her hand.

“Y/n.” Your whole body froze, slightly turning to see the Avengers standing before you. You gripped the little girl’s hand while pulling a frown on your face. “Peter, take her to get ice cream.” He just nodded and gulped, taking the girl’s hand and walking to the ice cream shop next door. He gave you a concerned look but you nodded, making sure he knows you’re okay. 

You open your mouth to speak but Clint just shakes his head, the rest of the Avenger’s head hanging low. You were honestly scared shitless, you tried not to give it away. However, it was pretty obvious as your hands were trembling and your breathing was fast. They were here to end it, weren’t they? I mean, sure you’ve stayed away from Nat so what could they possibly want?

“You should know that we’re sorry.” Your eyes practically bulged out of your head. Sorry? Huh? “The person on that file wasn’t you. The picture was the exact opposite. We shouldn’t have reacted that way. We’re very sorry and hold us accountable. If you can, please forgive Nat.” And with that, each Avenger apologized for what they did and asked you to consider taking her back.

You would just raise your eyebrows but then they told you that she feels horrible, not sleeping or eating. She feels like shit for not trusting you, the love of her life, and trust them instead. You couldn’t speak, just shaking your head as tears threatened to fall. They nodded and walked away going back to the compound.

Now you had to make a choice. Forgive Natasha or never see her again? On one hand, you wanted to be back in her arms again. Smelling her shampoo and kissing her temple all while that passion and love fill your stomach. But on the other hand, the Avengers had threatened you and your life. Natasha thought they were right. Natasha believed them, believed that you used her for information.

Although, you know you’ve already made your decision.

~~

Unforgivable Taglist: @messuhp​ @dark-heart-no-soul​ @jenny-song​

Taglist: @hailmary-yramliah​ @kitkatd7​