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pinkjeanist · 4 years

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“daydream.” || hizashi yamada

⇥ You wore heels on the wrong day, and your legs pay the price. Luckily, Hizashi is there to help. [1.6k words]

a/n: i hate feet. i hate feet SO much. this fic SUCKS because every time i had to write the word “feet” i CRINGED. i would NEVER let hizashi or anyone else touch my feet. my feet dont exist. i hate them so much im denying their existence. [navigation]

You so desperately wished you could walk in someone else’s shoes. These heels were killing you.

It was a teacher’s development day, which meant you had to dress up, and you felt strange in anything other than heels when you wore a pencil skirt. But what Nezu had failed to tell you in his little email was that the meetings would go on for six hours. Of course, you got to sit at the meetings, but between them, you’d have to walk from building to building, and up and down stairs to get to the rooms you were assigned to. You’d worn a tall pair of heels expecting to have three meetings at most. Now, your legs were practically about to fall off.

You passed Yamada a few times during passing, in which he pointed out your struggling on the very first occurrence.

“Yo, Miss Y/l/n! What’s going on?” You quickly checked your watch to see how much time you had, and decidedly stopped as he approached. You would have been overwhelmed by the feeling in your chest if the feeling in your feet wasn’t nearly cut-off from agony (okay, maybe that was a bit of a stretch).

“Oh, it’s just these heels…” You replied, letting him take your elbow as he often did. His brow furrowed in concern over his glasses. “Nezu didn’t tell me how long the day was going to be, and I decided to wear these, and now I kind of regret it.”

“Yeouch! I’d give you my shoes if I could, but I don’t think those heels would fit me! Not that I mind wearing heels, though.”

“I know,” You smiled, looking down at your feet though not so much from the pain, now. “I appreciate the sentiment. It means a lot.”

His hand moved to gently squeeze your shoulder. “Don’t get too down about it, Y/l/n! It hurts now, but you’ll be off your feet soon enough! I’ll see you back at the dorms later, okay?”

You nodded, and his hand moved quickly to pat your head before letting go of your elbow. “I’ll see you later, Yamada.”

You parted ways, and you tried not to reminisce on how his hand felt on your elbow and head as you near-stumbled to your next meeting. When he passed you twice in the hall after that, he asked if your feet were hurting any worse, and when you said yes, he gave you enough kind encouragement to not just take off your shoes and walk to the next meeting barefoot. He hugged you both of those times, and you tried not to hold him as tight as you wanted, even though his arms pulled you close like a two-armed octopus. He’s wearing a different cologne today, you thought to yourself as you continued to your last meeting.

When you finally made it back to the dorms, you collapsed on the couch with your heels tossed to the side (you didn’t even want to look at them), still in your dress clothes. Your feet hurt too much to go up to your rooms and change.

You said hi to the other teachers as they trudged in wearily after you, just as drained from the training that they knew wasn’t going to help anyone (you were only heroes, after all). You could tell Ectoplasm was near his limit with his prosthetics. Eraserhead looked like a dead man walking. But Yamada seemed more than happy as he came through the door, spotting you and rushing immediately over.

“Heya, Y/l/n! Feeling any better?”

“Oh Yamada. My feet are gonna hurt forever,” You cried with a grin. He came to sit on the floor next to the couch, by your head. “I’ve been laying here for five minutes and they’re still practically numb. This is it. This is how I die.”

“Aw, don’t talk like that! Who’s gonna jam with me to my mixtapes when you’re gone?” Your face heated up when his hand moved back to the top of your head. However, this time it stayed, and he started to almost play with it. You had to look away from him to keep your heart from imploding.

“That’s true. You do have pretty good mixtapes. They’d be perfect if you put Africa by Toto on all of them,” You smiled, thinking back to the countless arguments you’d had with him over the song.

He groaned dramatically. “It only fits on the classic rock mixtape! Do you really think it belongs on my screamo one? Or my jazzhop one? Or the Carly Rae Jepsen-and-Gaga mix?”

“Africa by Toto is a timeless classic that fits any and all situations. A day at your mom’s house. Your cocktail party. Your wedding. Your funeral. Your goldfish’s funeral. It’ll fit right in with Asking Alexandria on your screamo mixtape, I swear.”

“I’ll take your word for it, but I’m still not adding Africa to any other mixtapes.”

You frowned, trying not to smile. “Please-”

“No.”

“Pretty please-?”

“No!” He giggled, standing to his feet. His hand lingered for a second on the top of your head.

“You’re leaving?” You asked, your frown not very fake, this time.

“Well, I was gonna go grab some lotion to rub your feet for you, but if you want me to go-”

Your hand shot out to take a gentle hold of his wrist. “No- I mean, uhm.” You cleared your throat. “I mean, you don’t have to rub my feet. I’ll be fine.”

“Do you not want your feet rubbed? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“Well, it’d be nice, but-”

“Then I’m gonna go grab my lotion. I’ll be right back, hon!” He sped off before you could protest any further. You sighed as your head hit the arm of the couch. Looking into the kitchen across from the living area, Kayama eyed you with a smirk as she made herself a sandwich. You flipped her off. She was the only person you’d told about your little thing for Yamada, which was probably a mistake, since she’d been talking about you around Yamada fairly often every chance she got-

Wait a goddamn minute. Yamada called you hon.

Your face heated up almost immediately at the thought. He gave everyone nicknames (except you), usually based on their quirk or their hero name or something like that, but he never called anyone hon. Not honey, not darling, not sweetie, not any of that. Hell, the most he would call Eraserhead was ‘Zawa, and they’d known each other since their schooling days. You’d only ever called each other by your last names, sometimes a similar abbreviation of them, but you’d never dared to go further.

It couldn’t mean anything, you told yourself. It was just a slip of the tongue-

“I’m back, sugar! You ready?” You choked at his voice. Uh. Not a slip of the tongue, then?? “Alright, I’m gonna touch your feet, now. Is that okay?”

“Uhm. Yes.” You coughed. “But you really don’t have to, I mean it- ugh…”

You fell short of words as he put his hands on your right foot, kneading into the sole. The deep ache was still there, but it felt a whole world better than it had just a split second ago, and your senses were only heightened by it being him touching you, caring for you.

“Is this alright?” He asked, and if your eyes weren’t closed, you’d probably see that shit-eating grin he always wore when he teased you, even if his voice was gentle and warm at the moment. You melted into the couch.

“You could say that, yeah…” He hummed in reply. You could feel him moving to sit on the opposite arm of the couch, putting your foot in his lap as he worked. After a while, you let yourself sigh and feed into it. The lesser part of you imagined for a second that he was your partner and doing this because he loved you, not just because he wanted to. You usually whisked away thoughts like those almost as a reflex when you were around him, but for once, you let yourself bask in it.

After a while, Yamada set your feet down on the cushions and moved to your side. You didn’t realize he was done until you felt him kneel by your head. “Does that feel any better?”

You opened your eyes, glancing briefly at him before moving your feet. There was still an ache that would only pass with time, but…”It feels amazing. Thank you.”

You tried to stand, but once you were on your feet, you nearly toppled over at the strange feeling that came from the foot rub. He was quick to catch you, and kept an arm wrapped around your waist as he led you to the stairs, even after you’d regained your bearings. “Just take it easy tonight, okay? And maybe ditch those heels. I think they’re causing more pain than they’re worth.”

A heaviness came over your chest as you tried to turn back to the living room. “Oh, my heels-”

“I’ll bring them up later. You just need to lay down, hon.”

You let yourself lean into him as he led you up to your room and into your bed, sitting at the edge for a moment to put his hand on your cheek. You swallowed, but didn’t shy away. “I’ll go get your heels. But really, you should ditch those shoes. I mean, they look really good on you, but so do those black boots you wore last week.”

The familiar heat returned to your face. “Well, uhm, I can’t really wear those to meetings…”

“I’m sure you’d look gorgeous in flats, then. Or any other shoes. You’re just gorgeous.,” He smiled, then standing as if he hadn’t just said something you’d only dreamed about ever since meeting him. “I’ll go get those heels, hon.”

You blinked as the door shut behind him. Okay, maybe you’d allow yourself one more domestic fantasy with Yamada while you waited for him to come back.

taglist: @keigos-dove @knifeewifee @hanniejji @wesparklebitch @bvnnyclouds @katsukis-sad-angel

- dm/inbox to be added or removed from a taglist.

#hizashi yamada #hizashi yamada x reader #present mic #present mic x reader #yamada hizashi x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #reader insert #tw: feet #that warning is for jordan #and probably jordan only #but it is a very distressing subject nonetheless

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mell-bell · 5 years

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Fight so dirty (but your love so sweet) - Part III

The Mandalorian x Reader

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8

Words: 5135

Series Summary: You are sent to hunt down a Mandalorian, the odds aren’t exactly in your favor

Chapter: 3/8

Author’s notes: You guys are seriously the best thank you for reading!!! I love you all. When I first wrote this I thought it was gonna be short but once again it kinda imploded and thus 5000 but such is life. So sorry if there are spelling mistakes or such I’ve edited so many times I’m going crosseyed. I think I tagged everyone who asked, if not please just drop me a message! Hope you guys enjoy!!!!!

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

“Hey, no! Put that down!”

A gruff shout pulled you from sleep.

With a groan, you rolled over burrowing back into the warm blanket, pulling the long sleeves of the shirt you had stolen over your frozen fingers.

That infuriating man refused to pay for any type of heating system on this ship, claiming his armor and your clothes would be enough to keep you both warm.

“Stop!”

A crash echoed from the front of the ship as if something had slammed into the front window.

Your eyes shot open, squinting against the sun shining into the room. You focused your eyes at the clock, groaning at the blinking numbers. You had only slept for two hours.

Ever since you had escaped from the Imperials and Stormtroopers almost a month ago, you had been jumping from planet to planet.

Two weeks ago, you had thought you found a safe place. But four days after your arrival, a mercenary had broken onto the ship, slipping through a panel in the dead of night. Mercifully, the Mandalorian had dealt with him quickly before any harm could be done. But when he showed you the fob, you knew they were still tracking the little green child.

It was then that you both decided someone should guard the ship at night. At first, the Mandalorian had claimed he would take every night and even though you knew better, you let him try. It wasn’t until two days later when he fell asleep in the middle of eating lunch that you told him you would be alternating nights.

And you had been on guard duty last night. The man and child sound asleep inside while you froze your ass off sitting outside the ship staring into the dark forest.

You landed here three days ago and although everything seemed quiet, you both knew not to risk it now.

Risk wasn’t in his vocabulary anymore. Your Mandalorian had basically become your shadow. Anytime you left the ship, he would be at your back.

At first, you found it annoying, but one day in a market, a stranger had grabbed onto your arm. And you almost snapped. If he hadn’t stepped between the two of you, you would have shot the innocent man. Now knowing that he was always just a step behind you was a weight off your chest.

Rolling out of bed, you pulled on some heavy socks grumbling at the fact that he had picked the one planet where it was heavily snowing. Running your hands over your eyes trying to rub the sleep from them, you began to make your way through the ship. As you grew closer to the cockpit you could hear muffled curses and continuous bangs.

“What on Hoth is all this racket-“ You froze, the words catching in your throat at the sight before you.

The Mandalorian was sprawled on the ground, tangled up in a net, his finger pointed sternly at the little green child perched on the pilot’s seat, who chirped excitedly when he saw you.

Your face broke out into a wide smile but before you could make a noise, the warrior moved his gaze toward you.

“Don’t even think about it.”

You nodded solemnly fighting back laughter, a small snort escaping before you turned on your heel and left the room.

Stepping to the side, out of sight, you listened quietly as the man continued to reprimand the little child quietly before explaining how to be safe around his weapons.

Still chuckling quietly to yourself, you made your way to the back of the ship where you had created a makeshift kitchen and dining area.

There was no way you were going back to bed now.

Life together had become somewhat of a domestic thing. This ship had become home. You had argued with the Mandalorian for days when he stated he was giving you his room. You had even slept in the cockpit one night just to spite him. But when he promised to build himself his own room, you finally relented.

Things between the two of you had taken some time to get back to normal. The guilt that had been eating away at the Mandalorian had faded. He didn’t tiptoe around you anymore. But you could see it in his movements and actions. He purposefully alerted you when he was around or how he never let you out of his sight. You were slowly moving on from what had happened to you. And for the most part, you had. But the lingering trauma was still there.

A quiet shuffle sounded behind you, alerting you to the child who waddled through the door. You reached down, passing him a bowl of soup. The child began to slurp happily, as you grabbed him placing him up on a chair at the table before turning back to finish cooking.

The little child had become a fixture in both of your lives. The child loved to hear you babble on about nothing. So, when you would work around the ship you would tell him what you were doing. Even the quiet warrior had begun to talk to him. Though it seemed like most of the time he was reprimanding him for touching things he shouldn’t.

“…Is that my shirt?” You heard a soft voice behind you.

Throwing a glance over your shoulder at the Mandalorian in the doorway, you chuckled, “That it is.”

“Why?”

Your brows furrowed confused at his statement, “What?”

“The shirt. Why are you wearing it?”

“It makes me feel safe.”

After a beat of silence and a slight tilt of the man’s head, you realized what you had said.

Stumbling over your words, you frantically sputtered out, “Nope, I mean the cold- uh, do you want some soup?”

You continued to babble about random things, making the small child chitter, all while ignoring the man who hadn’t moved an inch since you had spoken to him.

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

“I need you to spar with me.”

You leaned against the opening of the back of the ship, looking down the ramp as the Mandalorian tinkered on an outdoor panel. He turned around and slowly looked you up and down. Instinctively, you stood up straighter.

He nodded, “Get dressed and let’s go.”

You had healed nicely. Your hands had healed rather quickly, barely scarred, the salve the Mandalorian rubbed on it each night saw to that. The scar on your stomach was no more than a fleeting memory. Your ribs, on the other hand, still tweaked here and there. But after a month of rest, you were getting antsy.

You hadn’t been able to keep up with your usual regime without injuring yourself further. You had ripped your stitches more than once lifting something too heavy. And you had even tried to do some pushups one day, but when the Mandalorian walked past just in time, he lifted your whole body up and placed you back on the bed with a stern warning to rest and heal.

But it had only been a month. You should be back in fighting shape in no time.

Five minutes later, you hit the ground with a thud and groaned. The Mandalorian gently kicked your side, prompting you to get up.

He held out his hand and you raised yours to his. But when you saw it shaking, you curled your fingers into a tight fist trying to brush it off and instead reached down to the ground to push yourself up.

As the Mandalorian put you through the motions, he did so slowly. You expected your muscles to do what they were used to. But your body was stiff and too slow.

As you tripped, and fell, and missed, you grew frustrated. You slammed to the ground again and again. Your body was screaming and when the man before you asked if you wanted to stop, you ignored him. You got to your feet, wiped the blood from your nose, and raised your arms to start again.

He hesitated.

But when he saw the determination in your eyes, he sighed and started back up.

He reached out to help every time you fell, but when you didn’t take his hand, he pulled back with a sigh and continued to attack you knocking you down over and over.

After completing the first few exercises, he chucked you a baton as he held out his own.

You started slowly as you felt your muscles begin to remember the exercises that had been drilled into your head. But you could feel him holding back. He wasn’t hitting you hard. And you purposefully gave him opportunities to take you down. But he didn’t.

You pushed him, “Come on, hit me. I can take it.”

“Stop.” He warned as you swung out at him wildly.

“I can take it.” You growled.

He shook his head, taking a step back as he dodged your aggressive attacks, “You just started training. You need to take it easy.”

You let out a grunt of annoyance as he easily ducked your baton again.

“You never had problems attacking me before. Don’t go easy on me now, I’m not gonna break.”

He shook his head as he slammed the baton down at you again. Your arm screamed under the pressure but you still pushed back at him.

“Come on.” You shouted, reaching out and shoving him back.

He swung out and soon you were going faster and hitting harder. Right. Left. Right. Duck. Jump.

You smiled as you landed a blow. And then another. But you had been overconfident. Without warning, just like he had done before, he kicked out your legs from beneath you.

You slammed to the ground and looked up just in time to see the baton coming down at your head.

Only you didn’t see the baton. You saw a stormtrooper’s gun. Your eyes slammed shut, and you flinched back, as you tried to sink into the ground. When nothing hit you, you relaxed minutely.

A gentle hand touched your arm and you shot to your feet, quickly backing away from the Mandalorian. He held out his hands in a peace offering, gently placing the baton on the ground.

“I don’t need your pity.” You spit out.

He took a step forward reaching out, but you pulled away and took off down the hall.

It wasn’t until a few hours later, when you were lying on the roof of the ship, looking at the stars, that he came to you.

He laid silently next to you, giving you the choice to start the conversation for yourself.

“I thought I was ready.” You whispered so quietly that when he didn’t respond you thought he hadn’t heard you. You sat up pulling your legs into your body, holding you shaking hands in tight fists.

“It’s going to take time.”

You pressed your shaking hands to your face, “We don’t have time. I need to be strong, not weak.”

He reached out, gently pulling your hands away from your face, covering your smaller ones in his, “You will be.”

You smiled, “Stronger than you?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” He chuckled.

“You know one of these days I want to spar you without your armor and see how you hold up.” You teased pulling a hand back to poke at his chest plate.

“You couldn’t handle me.”

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

As the month drew to a close, you sat down to shift through the food and supply rations you had left. Jumping from planet to planet this past month, you hadn’t had time to check what you were low on.

You sat propped against the wall as you checked off the last box of supplies. Frowning down at the numbers in front of you, you quickly counted and rechecked finding that it hadn’t been an error on your part.

Dropping the pad to the ground, you groaned closing your eyes.

A soft coo sounded next to you, and you peeked, seeing the green child chittering in front of you.

“Hey, go get your dad will you?”

The green child chirped as he began to waddle away.

A few minutes later, footsteps echoed in the ship as they grew closer. You were still leaning against the ship, your eyes closed.

You didn’t give him a chance to speak.

“We need money. One of us needs to take a client on.”

“That’s not a good idea.”

“We’re running low on food. And supplies. We’re not going to last another month. I know it’s a risk but it’s one we have to take.”

The man sighed. And you opened your eyes, smiling when you saw the child resting happily in his arms.

“Fine.”

“Great!” You smiled jumping up, “I know just the place to go.”

A few hours later, the Mandalorian landed the ship on the outskirts of a forest.

Pulling on your red cape, you skipped happily past the warrior and child on the way down the ramp, “It’s nice to be back.”

This planet was a happy reprieve to the desolate snow planet you had just been on. The forest was in bloom in colorful flowers, the green of the trees brightening up the world around you. Taking a deep breath, you walked slowly along the trail, smiling at the chirping animals in the trees. The Mandalorian was on edge as he followed behind you, looking left and right as if he expected an enemy to come flying out of the trees.

“You said you had contacts here.” His voice steady, but you know he was wary of trusting anyone.

You nodded, “When I worked with Commander Trax, she sent me here for a long mission, I lived here for a month helping the citizens.”

Stopping at a tree abloom with bright yellow flowers, you smiled pulling a few off the twigs. You turned with a smile and bent down passing one to the little green child, motioning that he could eat it. And soon he was chomping down making happy little sounds, as you all continued along through the forest.

“Where are we going?”

“The cantina. If there’s any work under the table, it will be there. And hopefully, we’ll find my contact there. Easier than having to knock on every single door in town.”

As you reached the end of the tree line, the Mandalorian passed you one of his blasters. You rolled your eyes but shoved it in the back of your pants before you took off down the street.

It looked exactly the same. The town was small but homely. The market place bustling with merchants and buyers. You had loved living here.

As you continued down the street, you waved at the citizens you passed by. A few recognized you and greeted you by name, welcoming you back.

The Mandalorian walked slowly behind you, the child at his side. People passing by said hello and he offered each of them a solemn nod.

When you reached the door to the cantina, you waved back at the warrior silently telling him to remain behind. But when you walked through the door and all the blasters went up, you sighed.

The Mandalorian stepped in front of the small child and pushed you behind him, his own blaster raising as his gaze scanned the bar.

You moved around him, pushing his blaster down, “He’s a friend. I promise. I’m looking for Nyko.”

Murmurs echoed through the crowd of people before suddenly everyone parted and a woman walked toward you.

You smiled and the older woman smiled widely in return, “Well look who it is!”

She waved at the other’s to drop their weapons. Everybody obeyed and immediately turned back to their own conversations, though they were still throwing wary glances at the Mandalorian, who had moved to stand silently in the corner.

The woman walked right up to you, pulling you into a hug.

“Long time no see. What are you doing here? With a Mandalorian no less.”

You nodded toward the back corner, and she responded by placing her arm around your shoulders leading you to the furthest table in the back. Your Mandalorian followed behind you like a shadow.

“We’re looking for work under the table.”

Nyko nodded solemnly, this was business, “I’m assuming it has to do with that little green fellow.”

The Mandalorian started forward but you held up a hand.

“Yes.”

Nyko nodded, “I can probably find you something, but I’ll warn you things in the underworld work differently then you’re used to around here. You’re going to need to Compete if you want to work.”

You stiffened slightly and the Mandalorian stepped closer to you.

“Got yourself a watchdog here.”

“More like a partner.”

Nyko eyed the man curiously before she waved her hand, and people appeared out of the woodwork, joining you at the table.

Papers were passed around and introductions were made.

The Mandalorian watched in amazement as all the citizens looked and talked to you with respect.

You seemed to fit in nicely here. You looked happy.

You nodded one more time and gathered all the intel of the table, holding out your arm you waited and Nyko grabbed yours.

“Don’t wait five years next time you stop by to say hello. I wish you luck in the Competition.”

You smirked and her eyes glinted as she knew it was all but a joke to you.

Stepping out of the cantina, you began to walk back toward the ship, the Mandalorian and green child following behind. As you walked, you passed him the map Nyko had given you.

“We’re going to meet here. Gather your weapons. I will meet you once I stop by a few places to grab some supplies.”

You went to step away but a hand grabbed onto you.

“Be careful.” His voice was deep with worry.

You knew he had heard Nyko mention the Competition.

“You don’t need to worry about me here.” You offered him a sad smile.

You walked down the street missing the soft, “But I do” that fell from his lips.

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

You hadn’t been out of sight from your Mandalorian since you got back, and it put you on edge. Although you knew this was a safe town you couldn’t help the lingering feeling that someone was going to come out of the shadows.

As you reached the outskirts of town, you reached back making sure your blaster was easily accessible. With a deep breath, you followed Nyko’s directions through the trees. Left. Left. Right. Over the bridge. Right at the yellow tree.

The Competition was infamous around here. Hunters would step forward to compete. To decide who would be given the bounty. The winner’s reward was the puck.

Your red cape swept behind you as you pushed your way through the crowds of people. There was a reason you didn’t want him here with you. Didn’t want him to see you this way.

You shouldered another person out of the way, growling when they turned around to look at you. This was a big event. Bets were placed. Winners were rigged.

But you were here to win.

You stalked up to the table in the center, people moving out of your way when they saw your red cape float out behind you.

With a grin, you shoved your way to the front of the line, pushing the man in front out of the way you slammed your hand down on the table, “I’d like to enter.”

The man behind the desk sneered at you, but that quickly changed when you placed a heavy bag of coins in front of him.

Passing you a number, he took your coins testing the weight in his hand, “Good luck.”

“I won’t need it.”

You had only competed in a Competition once before, but this one was different. There weren’t any rules. People died here. You could kill, maim, and still win.

As you stood in line with the nine other contestants, you found maybe one or two that would cause you some trouble. A man twice your size, with a knife peeking out from his sleeve. And a woman small and slim, with a wicked grin on her face, you knew a mercenary when you saw one.

The first task was easy enough. Target practice.

Top five moved on.

You took your turns throwing well, until the last shot when you purposefully missed a target.

The man next to you snorted and you feigned defeat.

Next was an agility competition.

You had never jumped on these so-called agility poles before, but your quick footwork from the workouts the Mandalorian put you through helped you fly through.

It was down to two.

You and the man with the knife.

The last task. The cage fight.

You swallowed as the mixture of cheers and boos echoed throughout the cold room, the cage closing in around the two of you.

Pulling off your cape, you quickly wrapped your hands before facing the man who stood in the way of your bounty puck.

The bell rang and with a feral grin, you launched yourself at your opponent.

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

You arrived back at the ship, limping slightly, sporting a wide grin on your face.

The Mandalorian looked up and when he caught sight of you, stood quickly walking over, lifting your chin so he could see the growing bruise on your cheek.

You waved him off, “I’m fine.” You pressed the puck in his hand. “I’m gonna go clean up, you look into that.”

The man watched worriedly as you limped your way up the ramp.

After cleaning up, you met the warrior at the base of the ramp, he was packed and ready to go. Grabbing your pack from him, you swung it over your shoulder before following him back into town.

He worked quickly. In the few minutes you had taken to get ready, he had already scouted out where your bounty was located.

Motioning for you to do the honors, you kicked in the door. The dozen people in the room began to scatter, tripping over each other to reach the door. Pulling out your baton \, you began to knock their legs out from beneath them, only moving on when you didn’t see the face from the puck.

You grabbed the shirt of a man, hauling him to his feet, “Where is the man named Ronzan?”

The man frantically motioned to the back door. The Mandalorian shuffled over silently, his blaster raised as he kicked open the door. A scream sounded from inside and you grinned, letting the man from your grip go.

The man, known as Ronzan, was on the ground pleading with the Mandalorian standing over him.

Ronzan froze when he saw you, “I have money please.” He begged.

You rolled your eyes before reaching out and shocking the man, who fell back to the ground unconscious.

“You’re carrying him.” The Mandalorian stated, prodding the man’s body with his boot.

You looked down at the man and sighed. Reaching down you were about to haul him up when you heard a whimper echo in the room.

Furrowing your brow you began to look around the room. Pushing a desk against the wall, you pulled back the rug to find a hatch in the ground. With a quick whistle, you motioned to the Mandalorian in the corner to help you pry up the hatch.

The hole that opened up was dark and deep, the whimpers you had heard echoing from below. Reaching out, you grabbed onto the Mandalorian’s hand before stepping over the edge. The man slowly lowered you down into the dark hole. When your feet still didn’t touch the ground, you braced yourself. You squeezed his hand once and he let you drop.

You fell far, rolling once, twice, before pushing yourself to your feet. Reaching for the walls, you began to walk slowly, letting your eyes adjust to the darkness around you.

“Hello?” You called out.

You continued walking when you suddenly tripped over a chain on the ground. Reaching out to grab it, you held it as you followed it. And at the end, you found a young girl.

“Hey...”

The girl flinched backward as you reached out. You hesitated. Reaching down you pulled a tool from your pack using it to snap the chain off.

“He can’t hurt you anymore. We need to go.” You pulled the girl up, she was freezing. She wrapped her arms around you and you held her close as you led her down the cold hall.

When you made it back to the hole above, you saw the Mandalorian looking down. He vanished from view and a second later, dropped down a rope that had knots tied in it.

Placing the young girl's hands on it, you prompted her to start climbing.

When she was close enough to the top, the Mandalorian above reached down grabbing onto the girl, pulling her up easily.

The young girl looked up at the warrior in awe, her hands hesitantly reaching out to touch the cool metal of his armor.

You pulled yourself to the surface just in time to see the young girl reach up to touch the Mandalorian’s helmet. The man flinched back and the girl shot back cowering in on herself.

You rushed forward, pulling the girl over to a bench, where you kneeled down in front of her.

“He’s a friend. A Mandalorian. Do you know what that is?” You prompted.

The girl shook her head, throwing a nervous gaze at the armored man.

You offered her a smile, “Well, he’s one of the best warriors in the galaxy. He can’t take off his helmet because if he does he won’t be allowed to put it back on. And doesn’t he just look dashing in it?”

You waited for the girl to nod her head.

“Alright, well I think it’s time to go.” You held out your hand, waiting for the girl to take it.

You motioned to the man in the corner, and you could feel the glare the Mandalorian gave you underneath his helmet as he lifted up throwing the unconscious man over his shoulder.

The trek back to the underworld was long. But a little less than an hour later, you had dropped off the unconscious male and received notice that the credits would be transferred to you.

On the way back to town through the forest, the young girl began to chitter on in a different language, you nodded your head along with her every time she looked at you.

When you reached the bustling town, you leaned down to the girl, “Do you recognize this place? Does your family live here?”

The girl nodded and began to drag you through the crowds. When she reached a small hut at the edge of town, she burst through the door. Inside you heard the clatter of objects and multiple gasps and shouts.

You cautiously stepped through the doorway to find the young girl in the arms of an older woman. You stepped forward, startling the woman, but when the younger girl began to speak in a different language to her mother, she relaxed.

Reaching out, she grabbed your hand tight, “Thank you, for saving my daughter.”

You offered her a smile, as you gazed around the small hut, the open room scarce of belongings, a cluster of young children crowded together on a bed in the corner.

Clearing your throat, you motioned to the older woman, “If you wouldn’t mind, I have something I would like to show you.”

The woman nodded slowly confused, but quickly gathered her children and followed you out the door.

On the other side of town, you unlocked the door to a small house that had long since been boarded up. The woman and her children stepped through the doorway. The youngest took a step forward, throwing a glance back at you, but when you just nodded at him he smiled before taking off to explore the new house.

“What is this place?” The Mandalorian wandered around the room, his hands drifting over knickknacks on the tables. He stopped in front of the fireplace when something caught his gaze. He stepped forward, reaching out and grabbing a photo propped on the mantel. It was you.

“This is where I used to live.”

You looked down at the key in your hand before turning to the young girl beside you, “This is yours now.”

The girl wrapped herself around you thanking you profusely. Her mother tried to resist but you assured her that you knew it would be in good hands. She promised to keep the door open if you ever wanted to come back.

You nodded as you slipped a piece of paper with your contact information into her hand, “If you ever need anything.”

She nodded tears in her eyes.

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

“How did- why-“ The man was at a loss for words as you walked back to the ship.

“After my parents died, before I worked for Commander Trax, a man like that owned me. I got hired to do some work at a young age and got in too deep before I realized he had complete control of me. Commander Trax saved me.”

The man nodded, “You changed their lives.”

You knew.

“I never told you about my helmet, how did-?”

You cut him off, “I worked with a Mandalorian in the past. I learned a lot from him. He told me about many of your beliefs. That’s why I never pried. It’s your right.”

The rest of the walk was made in silence.

When you finally made it back to ship, you paid the woman Nyko had hired to watch the little green child.

She happily passed him over, claiming he had caused too much chaos and that she was sorry for the mess he had caused on the ship.

The child settled comfortably in your arms as he chittered excitedly. You spoke softly to him in return.

As you began to climb the ramp, the Mandalorian reached out grabbing your arm, “Thank you.”

You shot him a smile.

Later that night, you were lying on the top of the ship staring at the stars. The transfer had gone through, the credits now officially yours. You had been paid handsomely.

Soft footsteps vibrated against the metal of the ship as the man settled beside you, “You could be happy here.”

“I could.” You agreed.

“You could s-“

You sat up abruptly before he could finish his sentence and he followed. Turning to look at him, you leaned over pressing your lips to the cold metal of his helmet.

“You’re crazy if you think I’m going anywhere.”

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

Tagged: @sargesbestgirl @abysswhiskey11 @yourfavoritearchangel @pedro-pascal-online @x-wingwarriorbbpoe8 @damnittjim @trickei @countessren @fun-sized-widow-bites @thefandomzoneisdangerous @ichigomiluku @bakerstreethound @clonesdeservelovetoo @bananyaaa @loveleah @javert-delacour @zoogrl05 @live-the-beautiful-game @maryan028 @ignimbritetcax @kaidad @kaimoar @yana-versio @peitromoximaff @alittleraincloud @fuckhead-writer @dottie-witch @nowheredreamer @pandalandalopalis @loveharrington @sw0rd-girlfriend @lex0h @piquantbarnes @go-commander-kim @finefangirl @lmao5sosimagines @bandofmarvels @nayploonthedoon @tchallaudakux @allthosepacheeks @i-think-of-dean-moriarty @otherthingsinhead @songofcosplay @cloudykooks @spooky-nob @takemebillyhargrove @flyingowls @funkygreensucculent @andromeda-sighs @audiblesmirk @out-worn @lessthancooljay @whtvrwhizzer @banana-batman @panic-monsters @vamprlestat @clevervast @ghelp0 @just-another-fangirls-posts @jinthusiastsss @c1996 @maldo559 @yelenasnatashas @chewymoustachio @heyo--its--mo @hexqueensupreme @ozzy-bozzy @spideydobrik @t-rexmoreliket-flex @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @teenagememetonight @salted-barbed-wire

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #mando #the mandalorian spoilers #star wars #dyn jarren #mando ff #my fanfic #Star Wars fanfic #mandalorian fanfiction #x reader #mando is love mando is life #fight so dirty #fight so dirty ff

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petri808 · 4 years

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@bnhahorrorweek Post apocalypse prompt/ non-quirk characters. Threw this one-shot together for this prompt. 🙃 Bakudeku. Sorry my edits suck lol.

It’s been two years since the world imploded and left survivors struggling to just stay alive. No one knew exactly how it began, but many suspected it was man made. When the United States declared war on China, and the world sided against the falling superpower, the country retaliated... soon stories began popping up about people becoming zombie-like and attacking with no hesitation as if all conscious reasoning was gone. The coincidence was how it started in areas being bombed by the U.S., first Asia, Europe, but as with most viruses, it spread quickly through the infected until there wasn’t a country on Earth left standing.

Izuku Midoriya was in his senior year of high school at the time, but once the virus hit Japan, chaos broke out. In the dense cities like Tokyo, it was like a wave washing through that quickly jumped to surrounding cities including Shizuoka where he lived with his mother. Within a matter of weeks the entire island country was engulfed by these soulless beings. He’d lost everyone he knew, his classmates, friends, and after a month of running, his mom when they’d been ambushed sneaking through the subway tunnels.

Perhaps it was his smaller size that was to his benefit. Growing up Izuku was teased for being a shorter, gangly kid, but when the goal was hiding, it became an asset. He was smart and a quick learner, who figured out the best ways to stay out of sight from the roving hoards. These things weren’t dead like most zombie movies tended to portray. The virus infected and destroyed the upper portions of the brain leaving just the brain stems that controlled basic life functions. It generally resembled a mutated syphilis strain, but 10 times worse with no cure, and no way to stop it once it took control. All the zombies knew to do was eat, and eat, and eat.

By the end of the first year, Izuku realized that constantly being on the move had some detriment, so when he came across an abandoned apartment building built with brick walls, he decided to create a fortress for himself. It took some time working only when the creatures weren’t around, but he reinforced the second floor apartments with steel and blacked out the windows. Once the outside was secured, Izuku broke through walls to connect the apartments together.

Maybe he’ll run into another survivor one day. There must be others, but since he didn’t travel far from his base camp, it was wholly possible he’d simply never come across one. Even now almost two years later, he was only a stones throw away from his original home is Musutafu. It was a lonely existence and there were many days when he wondered if it was worth it to keep living like this. Working on his new ‘home’ was the only thing that helped to keep his mind from slipping into depression, and he was quite proud of his accomplishments. Breaking through the ceiling, he managed to rig a pipe to the roof that collected rain water and funneled it into a plugged bath tub. Similar venting allowed him to build a make shift hearth for fires, handy during the colder months and to cook with.

They were truly back to the stone ages now. All the skills many take for granted, simple things like how to sew or forage for edible plants, he had to learn. No more electricity, meant no more quick entertainment, so he raided a nearby bookstore for things to read. Over time, Izuku settled in for the long haul, just concerning himself with finding supplies, keeping occupied, and most of all, not losing his sanity.

Until one day, while returning to his home, Izuku heard a noise and ducks low behind a broken down vehicle. It had only been a quick trip to a close by hardware store. He watched, readying his weapon in case of an attack. Crap! He’d left the fire going in the apartment for heating, so had the smoke attracted a zombie?

A human walks out from around some parked vehicles. At first he can’t tell if it’s a zombie or not, because the person’s attire hid their features. But the longer he watched their movements, the way they walked cautiously, with a backpack slung over one shoulder, Izuku started to wonder if it could be a survivor! It was a dangerous move to break cover, but after surveying the area and not seeing anyone else, he decided to get the persons attention. If it was a zombie there was still enough space between them to get away.

Izuku popped his head over the car and whistled once for 10 seconds. The person stopped and turned in his direction, but just stood in place staring. So he whistled a second time, while standing completely upright and clearly visible. He waved, signaling he was a normie, so the man lowers the hoodie of his jacket.

“K-Kacchan?!” He breathes out. No way! Of all the people to run into, but his long lost childhood friend?! The mans hair was a dirtier blonde now, shaggier and disheveled, but those red eyes were unmistakable. Izuku steps forward, slowly moving towards the man. “Kacchan, is that really you?”

“Deku? Pfft, figures you’re the first live human I find.”

Another sound, distant, but real catches Izuku’s alert attention. He grabs the man by the arm. “It’s not safe here,” his voice is low as to not attract attention. “Follow me, I’ve got a safe place.”

Possibly tired of travel, Katsuki Bakugou follows the smaller male into the secured apartment building. He watches in fascination as Izuku takes them through a stairwell with multiple metal gates that looked added on, until they reach the main entrance.

“Welcome to my home,” Izuku smiles and ushers Katsuki inside.

“Tch, not bad nerd,” The blonde surveys his surroundings. “You set this all up yourself?”

“Yup. Took awhile but I reinforced the top half of the building.” He shows Katsuki each room. “An area for cooking, this is where I gather and store rain water. So if you wanna take a towel bath you can. Here’s where I sleep, and finally my storage area. I think I have clothes in your size if you need something fresh to wear.”

“Think I’ll take you up on the bath first.”

“S-Sure!” Izuku grabs his friend a towel and hands it to him along with a fresh set of clothing. “I’ll be working on a dinner in the meantime,” he smiles.

“Thanks Deku.”

Izuku was on cloud nine! It’d been years, long before the apocalypse hit that he’d ever spoken with Katsuki in a civil manner. The man seemed to have mellowed out, but of course an event like this one was bound to change people. He was just thrilled to have found a survivor and even happier it was someone he knew. By the time Katsuki came out of the bath area cleaned and dressed, Izuku had whipped up a small meal for the two of them.

“Hope your hungry,” Izuku smiles and presents a plate to his friend. “I got lucky and caught a wild hare in my trap yesterday.”

Katsuki takes the plate and sits down on a rug. “How do you have fresh vegetables?”

“I grow them on the roof.” Izuku sits down across from the man with his own plate. “Tomatoes, sweet potatoes, mushrooms, and onions so far, but I’m working on soybeans too. Tell me Kacchan, where have you been all this time?”

“I was in Osaka visiting an uncle when this shit hit, then the bastards killed my parents last year as we tried to get back home.”

“I’m sorry Kacchan,” Izuku’s voice softened, “I lost my mom too a month after it hit.”

“Looks like you’re doing well though.” Katsuki looks around. “Seems a pretty safe hold out.”

“It’s better than the streets. Luckily the zombies are dumb. You know, you’re welcome to stay. There’s plenty of room for two people.”

“I don’t wanna impose...”

“You’re not imposing Kacchan. It’ll be nice to have someone to talk to aside from myself.”

“Alright, I’ll stick around since it beats the elements. Am I the first person you’ve seen?”

“Yeah, alive any way. I’ve run into people we knew but they’re all zombies now.”

“Tch, I mean to live now, then die as one of the last humans on this plant? This blows.”

“I try not to think about that and rather take any positive thing I can cling to.”

“Always the optimist Deku.” Katsuki laughs. “Even with a disaster you never change.”

As the hours grow late, Izuku suggests they pull out an extra mattress he has in the storage room for his friend to sleep on. But Katsuki points to Izuku’s Queen sized bed. “Why? We both fit, and besides it’s warmer this way, right?”

Izuku stammers as his face turns red. “I-I guess, as long as you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind, do you?”

“No.” He did, but it was just his nervousness over sharing a bed with a guy he once had a crush on.

“Good, cause I’m exhausted.” Katsuki slips under the blanket and pats the bed. “It’s late, let’s get some sleep.”

“O-Okay...” Izuku put out the fire and climbed under the covers, but turns on his side away from the man.

“Pfft,” Katsuki spoons up to Izuku, “supposed to keep each other warm remember,” he wraps his arm around and pulls the man close. “Nite, nerd.”

‘Ahhhh! What is going on?!’ “G’night Kacchan.” If this was how he’ll spend the rest of this apocalypse... guess it wasn’t so bad anymore.

#bnhahorrorweek2020 #bnha #bakudeku #post apocalypse #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #bkdk #katsudeku #bakudeku fan fic #bakudeku fan fiction

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matrixaffiliate · 4 years

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Christmas in Quarantine

New Story! FFN and AO3

Quarantine has a way of making us want to have the best things in life, the things we can't have now. For Harry and Ginny, this involves hauling out the holy, playing carols, holiday treats, and a little of Christmas, right this very minute. Modern Muggle AU.

This little story was requested and prompted by several wonderful people on Tumblr. @gryffindormischief named the fic and wanted it written for Hinny. @petals-to-fish (who put up so many wonderful fics in one day for all of us and it really was Christmas) wanted to see a snowball fight, baking cookies, and mistletoe kissing. @inakindofdaydream (who adores Christmas after my own heart) wanted to see them almost getting caught by Santa Clause. And @shining-jul-of-hope who pointed out that it's nowhere near Christmas right now. :P I'm so grateful to these lovely people for sharing in the magic with me, and trusting me with their fabulous ideas!

For those of us not part of the UK, cornflour, apparently is what we call corn starch.

Christmas in Quarantine

It was strange, how little Harry Potter's life changed with the Pandemic, but as a blockbuster author who spent most of his time in his office writing the next installment of his fantasy novels, he was more or less socially distanced to begin with. What changed the most was that Ginny was home now. The football leagues were all canceled and that meant Ginny's professional career had been put on hold until further notice.

For the first week or so, it was fun. Harry put off the manuscript in exchange for keeping Ginny company in all the best ways. But then his publisher was emailing him about maybe getting more done since the world had shut down, and his editor started calling and so Harry reluctantly went back into work mode.

He figured Gin would be alright. She had the treadmill and other assorted workout equipment and her team did daily Zoom meetings now. When she wasn't goofing around with the team - he's walked into the kitchen when she's in those meetings, he knows what they're talking about - both their mothers liked to call and check-in, Marlene hosted a Kindle book club now, and Luna taught painting lessons through live videos, so Harry felt confident that Ginny didn't need him to be underfoot trying to "entertain" her.

But he started to wonder if he had underestimated what social distancing would do to his wife when Harry walked out of his office for a snack and heard the sound of... show tunes?

"Gin?" Harry poked his head into the sitting room.

"Alright, Potter?" Ginny was lounging on the sofa in front of the telly, watching something that looked horrendous on their high def screen.

"What's this?" Harry gestured to the telly.

"My mum always said I should watch the musicals she loved as a kid." Ginny shrugged. "And I've got time now, so I thought I'd give a few a go."

Harry chuckled, "You had me worried there. I've never heard you listen to show tunes and I wondered if you'd gone stir crazy."

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. "Don't let that book keep you past dinner again."

Harry shoved his hand in his hair. "I've got an alarm today, I'll be all yours the moment it goes off."

Ginny's returning smile left him wondering if maybe he ought to move that alarm up an hour.

After a week of Ginny watching the musicals her mum grew up with, Harry became accustomed to the show tunes playing from the sitting room. Gin would put on whatever one he assumed her mum had recommended and Harry would come out to assorted big band songs playing. It reminded him of going to his dad's parents' home when he was little, which felt oddly comforting given the way the world was attempting to implode upon itself.

And that was probably why Harry didn't think to question Gin's newfound obsession.

And when she started watching the same one at the start of every day, well Harry just figured that she really liked the music or the story, after all, the bits that Harry had seen were set during the Great Slump and he was starting to wonder if the world wasn't heading for another 21st-century repeat.

Harry was a bit taken aback after a week of her starting the day with the musical Auntie Mame to walk into the kitchen to grab lunch and find Ginny baking mince pies.

"Alright, Gin?"

Ginny grinned up at him from the pie crust she was rolling out.

"Thought I'd make us a bit of a treat."

Harry brushed some of the flour from her cheek.

"Mince pies?"

"You love mince pies." She set the rolling pin down to smear a floured hand across his cheek.

Harry tried to pull back but wasn't quick enough and laughed as he reached for a towel.

"You're right, so I guess the proper response should have been more along the lines of 'thank you' or maybe enthusiastic snogging?"

"I'll take the thank you now and the enthusiastic snogging after these pies are baked and cooled." Ginny kissed him and Harry moved closer to her, letting his lips move slowly against her, loving the way she melted against him.

"Thank you for making mince pies in April. I'll make sure that you get far more than enthusiastic snogging once I'm done working on this blasted novel."

Ginny bit down on his lip. "I can't wait."

Harry was surprised by Ginny baking mince pies. But the next morning he was downright floored to find their Christmas decorations out and mostly up when he stepped out to refill his tea.

"Gin? What on Earth?"

"We need a little Christmas, Harry." Ginny adjusted where she hung an ornament on their tree.

"It's April…" Was all he managed to say as he realized how much she'd managed to get done in the roughly three hours he'd been writing.

"Life is a banquet, and most poor suckers are starving to death!" Ginny laughed and smiled at the telly where Lucille Ball's character was talking about building a home for Jewish refugees.

"Right…"

Ginny moved back to the last couple of boxes of their Christmas decorations.

"I have a surprise at lunch. So don't work through it."

Harry blinked. "This isn't a surprise?"

"We need a little Christmas, Harry!" Ginny pulled the Santa hat or if the box and stuck it on her head.

And then it clicked.

"Are we in that musical?" He gestured to the telly.

Ginny huffed and dug into the box closest to her. "Well, I thought it looked like fun!"

"I can't sing," Harry grinned and moved to the boxes with Ginny. "But we could haul out the holy, maybe fill the stockings, turn on the carols."

Ginny's eyes filled back up with hope, "Bake Christmas cookies, have a snowball fight, watch for Santa?"

Harry slipped his hand into the box next to him as he smiled down at Ginny.

"I have no idea how we'll have a snowball fight, but yes, I'll go close out of my document for today and we'll have ourselves a little Christmas."

Then he lifted out what he'd been digging through the box for.

"But shouldn't we start our Christmas off right?" Harry held up the mistletoe over their heads.

Ginny chuckled, "Very smooth, Potter."

"I had to write a few romance pieces at university." Harry leant closer to her.

"Why have I never seen them?" Ginny smirked, leaning back away from him.

"They were rubbish. I tossed them the moment I had the grade." Harry finally pulled her close enough to capture her lips.

She laughed against him. "Go tell your boss you're out for the day while I go hang this above our bed."

Ginny snatched the mistletoe from his fingers and skipped to their bedroom.

By the time Harry had finished saving everything and putting a few ideas down in his notebook, Ginny was standing at his office door in her bikini with his swimming trunks in hand.

"What happened to Christmas?"

"I figured out how to have a snowball fight!" Ginny tossed him his trunks. "Come on!"

Then she headed for their balcony.

Harry couldn't change fast enough.

"Here," Ginny shoved a bowl at him as he stepped out the door to join her. "This is your ammunition, use it wisely because I'm not using any more of our cornflour for it."

"Cornflour?"

"Yes, and hair conditioner, which I've already told Amazon to send more of."

Harry laughed at how Ginny had moved their two patio chairs to make a battle line.

"I can't believe you managed to get us snow when it's 19 degrees out." Harry stuck his hand in his bowl of fake snow and grimaced at the texture.

"YouTube," Ginny shrugged and then jumped to one side of the chair battle line she'd created.

The moment Harry shut the door, she threw a ball of the 'snow' at this bareback and he grimaced at the way it felt sliding along his spine.

"This is an awful cross between that wretched Halloween slime we made in primary and store-bought decor snow."

"Wouldn't know," Ginny shrugged, "seeing as I haven't been hit by any of it."

Harry didn't move fast enough as she threw another 'snow ball' at him and it slid down his side. He groaned as the feeling of it crawling along his side sent shivers across his skin before reaching into his own bowl and tossing a large handful back at Ginny. She ducked and it splatted against the wall behind her.

There wasn't really much 'snow' between the two of them and when he missed Ginny by a hair for the third time, Harry decided to go all in. He jumped up on the patio chairs and pushed his foot on the back of the chair, tipping it over and taking his wife by surprise as he dumped his bowl over her head.

Ginny yelled and shoved him back onto the toppled chair as she threw the last of her snow at his face. Then she collapsed on top of him and laughed as they tried to keep the 'snow' from their eyes.

"I think a shower is in order." Harry pushed his caked glasses up into his hair. "And then what would you like to do next?"

"I have everything out for some Christmas cookies, icing and all." Ginny wiped some snow from her forehead before it could slide completely into her eyes.

"Baking and Christmas carols?"

"And maybe a bit of something else…" Ginny moved to kiss him but immediately backed away when more 'snow' tried to sneak into her eyes.

Harry laughed and pushed them to stand. "Lead a blind man to the shower, won't you?"

After a long shower, Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny's waist as carols played through her phone and she measured out the flour.

"Aside from the tank top, this feels like Christmas."

"Maybe we should spend Christmas in a warmer climate from now on," Ginny brushed a bit of flour on his nose.

"Our mums would probably hunt us down for something like that."

"Ooo, adventure and a holiday, sounds like a book waiting to be a bestseller."

Harry laughed and helped with the cookies and icing. Slipping his phone out here and there to jot down a few notes.

"I thought you told the boss you were off for the day." Ginny pouted as Harry set his phone down to ice another cookie.

"Just writing a few ideas down," Harry leant over and kissed her cheek.

"Typing, not writing," she teased.

"You said you had a surprise for me and to not work through lunch." Harry redirected their conversation.

"Well, I was going to use it to convince you to go along with having a bit of Christmas in April. But since you decided to jump on board without it, I'm saving it for tonight." She bit her lip.

"Tonight, eh?" Harry stood and moved to the fridge.

"Alright, Potter?" Ginny frowned.

"I know that look," Harry started pulling out sandwich fixings. "I'm going to need more than sugar cookies and icing for lunch if you've got that look."

Her laughter felt more genuine in that moment than it had since the world hit pause, and Harry grinned.

They really did need a little Christmas.

They spent the rest of the day 'virtual caroling'. For which his parents not only thanked them but joined in, taking the phone along as they dug up all the Christmas boxes and argued if they could thaw the ham overnight or if they should just make whatever they had on hand for a family Christmas dinner the next day hosted via Zoom meeting.

Harry scrounged up everything for a shepherds pie dinner and they put on A Christmas Carol after as they ate the iced cookies and drank hot chocolate for dessert.

It felt like Christmas.

Harry felt light and he felt happy and he could see the happiness and lightness in Ginny as well. They definitely needed a little Christmas in all of this pandemic insanity.

"Thank you," he kissed her hairline.

Ginny smiled up at him, snuggling closer to his side. "Thank you for being on board. This has been so much fun. I forgot about how awful it is out there."

Harry kissed her, letting himself indulge in the softness of her lips, the taste of chocolate and sugar on her lips.

"Do I still get to see that surprise?" Harry kissed along her jawline to the spot behind her ear that made her breath catch.

Ginny laughed, "Wait here."

She pushed up and slid out of the room with a confidence that made it a strenuous exercise in self-control for Harry to not follow her out of the sitting room.

To distract himself he took out his phone and jotted down a few more notes.

"I might just throw your phone in your office and lock the door."

Harry quickly locked said phone and tossed it on the side table.

Then he looked up.

Ginny had on a Father Christmas cloak, white wig, and a set of glasses that had the white beard attached.

"Wow…"

Ginny laughed and undid the belt that held the robe shut.

Harry's initial confusion dropped instantly as his wife's body was revealed, no imagination needed.

"We're losing the beard," he smirked and moved to gently pull the glasses-beard combo off Ginny's face.

"What Father Christmas doesn't have a long white beard?" She teased as her fingers moved along his waistband.

Harry kissed her slowly as his hands moved slower against her freckled skin.

"The one who is actually my wife," he pulled back before sweeping Ginny into his arms and carrying her back to their bed, and the mistletoe hanging over it.

The sun long set and the moon high in their bedroom window, Harry waited patiently until Ginny's breathing became even and he was sure she was fast asleep. As quietly as he learned to move when he was a child spying on his Christmas gifts, Harry snuck out of their bed and down to his office.

It took the better part of an hour to get it how he wanted it. Then it took another half-hour to get the printer to print it the way he wanted. And another half-hour after that to find the freaking wrapping paper. But after roughly two hours of trying to be silent, Harry snuck into the sitting room to set the gift under the tree.

He went to grab this phone from the side table when a cloaked image came into his peripheral vision and he almost cried out as all the anxiety of a child being caught by Father Christmas came rushing up at him from years as a boy trying to spy on Christmas gifts.

"Why are you out here?" Ginny's groggy voice sounded and Harry felt relief rush through him like a tidal wave.

"Just grabbing my phone. I forgot to plug it in to charge while we slept."

"Come to bed, you're how I don't freeze to death at night."

Harry slipped his arms around Ginny and led them back to bed with a smile on his face.

He hadn't been caught by Father Christmas, but more importantly, his wife would still get her surprise on Christmas morning.

And just like childhood, Harry awoke far too early, and far too excited to go back to sleep. Though rather than for what he would receive, it was for what he was giving.

"Gin," he nuzzled her hairline and kissed her cheek.

Ginny made a sound that was a cross between a moan and a grunt.

"Don't you want to see what Father Christmas left for you?"

"I'm Father Christmas and I didn't leave anything out because it's not actually December the 25th." She mumbled into her pillow.

Harry chuckled. "Let's just go have a look."

Ginny blinked her eyes open and frowned. "Only if I get to come right back to bed."

Harry put his hand over his heart. "I promise, well go see if there are any surprises and then come right back to bed."

"Fine," Ginny pushed up from the bed, her Father Christmas robe slipping from her shoulders. "But if this is how you're going to be with children then we're rethinking our future plans."

Harry laughed and forced himself not to run full tilt down the hall and leave his adorably sleepy wife in the dust.

He held his breath as Ginny moved to the tree and his lone gift that sat wrapped below its branches.

She turned to look up at him, bewildered, "What's this?"

"Open it," he shrugged.

Ginny pulled the wrapping away and slid the booklet from the manilla envelope he'd used to hold it.

"A Holiday and an Adventure," She read aloud. "Harry, what is this?"

Harry stuck a hand in his hair. "Well since you're not on the team for the foreseeable future, and you've always got the best ideas when I'm stuck in a story, I thought maybe, maybe you'd like to write a book together, you and me. All those pages in the booklet are the notes I was jotting down all day yesterday. And I've organized them out the way I do with my novels. If you like the idea and we finish the story, we could send it over to my editor. See what she thinks."

Ginny looked up from the booklet, eyes wide. "You want to write a book with me?"

Harry smiled, "I kind of already do. You're my sounding board and you find more of my plot holes than my editor does. So I guess I'm really asking you to be an active participant so we can put your name on the cover too."

Ginny looked back down at the booklet before launching herself at him. Harry caught her and managed to spin them around so he fell on the sofa and not his back.

"So is this a yes?" Harry chuckled as he kissed her hairline.

Ginny kissed him enthusiastically before jumping up. "Come on! I want to start right now!"

Harry snagged her around the middle before she could go running off. "What happened to wanting to go right back to bed?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Ginny laughed, "do you have any idea how badly I've wanted some real control in your novels?"

"Now you have a story to be in control of." Harry kissed her. "Happy Christmas, Gin."

Ginny's smile shone like the rising run out their sitting room window. "Happy Christmas, Harry."

91 notes · View notes

heli0s-writes · 5 years

Text

I. What's in a name (that which we call a Bucky)

Summary: What kind of name is BUCKY? Your dog's name is BUCKEYE. Much better. Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes A/N: A more humorous work... be alert: everyone in this fic is a lil shit. Dog-lover reader. Enemies to friends to lovers and strap in kiddos, we’re going to Ohio!

Foot in Mouth Syndrome Masterpost

It’s past midnight when the bell on your doorknob titters. A high-pitched whine follows the noise and you drop the book in your hand before emitting a loud groan of annoyance. As a response to your complaint, footsteps quickly pad back towards the computer room you sit in.

“God damn it,” you scold towards the door, “I just took you out like an hour ago.”

It’s half-serious, half-playful as you point a finger towards the 50-pound mass of pure muscle now pitifully cocking his head to the side. Your dog, Buckeye, lovingly named after your alma-mater’s mascot whines pathetically as he falls forward onto his two front paws and gives you the saddest look he can muster. The slate-grey skin between his eyes bends upwards in crinkly folds as he continues to peer at your perched figure on the swivel chair.

You shuffle your desk space around, placing the heavy tome from your hand over the mountain of other paperbacks scattered about. Taking one final look over the paper you’d been working on for the last two weeks, you hit save, making sure it uploads itself to the online drive before stepping away.

The clock on the lower right-hand corner of your monitor reads 2:30. Fuck. Way more than past midnight. You had been so focused on writing you didn’t even realize how late it was. Sending an apologetic look to your dog, you rub his ear before heading down the hallway and grabbing the leash by the door. Poor guy, you hadn’t taken him out in almost four hours.

He’s striding towards you, tail wagging back and forth at the sight of your hand on the leash. His tongue flops out stupidly and you giggle at how dumb he looks. Before clipping the leash to his collar, you give him a big kiss on the head and push your face affectionately. He’d come such a long way in the past five months.

“Okay, big baby. Let’s go.”

The training bell hanging from the knob flails against the door as you step outside, closing it shut.

You and Buckeye head downstairs, your slippers squishing against the wet grass as he leads you over to his favorite sniffing grounds. Under the lamp, you scroll on your phone distractedly, making sure you’d replied to all the e-mails you had received earlier in the day. Eyeing him from time to time to make sure he’s doing what he’s supposed to, you tap out a quick response to a group message from some classmates. They’re probably awake at this time anyway, you muse bitterly, graduate school can be a real bitch like that. Tucking the phone into your back pocket, you fiddle a doggy bag from its container strapped to the leash and maneuver it over your hand.

“No sniffing that poo.” You command Buckeye, and he gazes back over his shoulder at you for a single brief second, as if truly contemplating your authority before giving it a quick whiff anyway. You scoff before tugging him from the pile and further back into the grass. “C’mon, Buck. Dude, I gotta get back in. Please poop. The bag’s ready for you.”

You wave it around helplessly as he traipses on, keeping close, but really pushing your patience. Ten minutes later, you decide you’ve had it with him and start tugging him back towards the sidewalk. He resists at first and you have to use your “mom” voice a couple of times before he follows your lead and drags himself back to your side.

This was the usual routine of your life: wake up, go to campus, work on campus, work from home, find time to eat, work some more, go to bed. In-between all of those activities was of course, take Buckeye outside to jog, pee, shit, and socialize… when he was up for it.

You “adopted” the big lug from the shelter six months ago, falling head over heels for that stupid white oblong patch (you called it his Penis Patch because c’mon… it looked like one) and that wrinkly-ass forehead of his. He had been abused as a puppy and then abandoned in an alleyway with a handful of other pit bulls. By the time he got to the animal shelter, he was massively underweight and terrified of being near humans. He was only two months old. It took a lot of work on your end to get him back to a normal weight and as much as people loved to praise how you “saved” him- it was honestly the opposite that happened.

Yes. It was cheesy and gross as fuck to admit out loud, but that dumb animal actually saved you.

If you hadn’t adopted him and decided he was going to be your tether to this fuck-ass world, you were cock-sure you’d have tied yourself a noose out of bedsheets already. It’s what you told your therapist because it was just the damn truth.

The spring air of Manhattan whips over your face as you make your way towards the stairs of your unit, taking glances here and there to make sure nothing scary was happening. Your location was relatively safe, but honestly, you never know with people. You had seen your fair share of frightening and inexplicable things from your time in New York.

As if you were summoning the bad luck to your doorstep, gunshots ring out from a few blocks away. At least you hope it is, because the echo throughout your apartment unit suggests that it’s much closer. Buckeye starts twitching, darting left and right at the sound. You’re steeling your body as he begins to pull and snap at him with your fingers, calling his name. He heads quickly towards the apartment. Another shot resonates between the buildings.

On your right, Buckeye lets out a high-pitched yelp and jumps as rapid footsteps approach behind you. You barely make it two steps out of the way before a heavy body barrels into you and knocks you onto the sidewalk. Both your knees hit the concrete hard and you immediately roll to your side and fumble to find the leash that fell from hand. Your dog is losing it, and frankly, you are about to as well.

He starts to take off towards the darkness of the grass and you’re screaming his name, trying to scramble up to catch the plastic handle of the retractable leash that’s dragging against the ground. His tongue is loose and panting as he whips his head back and forth between you and the darkness, unsure of where to go.

“Come here! Come!”

You ignore the searing in your kneecaps and reach out as you take a step. Before you can make it much farther, an arm swings itself over your neck and strangles the rest of your words.

A single shot fires off at your dog. Buckeye is outta there. He’s yelping the whole way and you cannot stop yourself from shrieking.

“Don’t fucking speak.” A voice growls behind you. The body it belongs to is distinctly masculine as they knee you in the back and prop you up to stand beside them. The cold barrel of a gun presses itself against your temple and you freeze, hands quivering at your sides. Your heart has either imploded or is about to because you can’t tell if it’s beating or not anymore. There is ringing in your ears from the gun being fired in such close quarters, your eyes struggle to focus.

You have so many questions, but your mind is currently a squirrel in traffic running between the front axle of two tires labelled: “Is this where I fucking die?” and “Is my dog okay?”. Getting splattered to bits by either one was dealer’s choice, and your dealer didn’t seem too choosy.

In the distance, footsteps approach and you see two large frames enter your blurry field of vision, lit up under the streetlamp. There are two glimmering silver shapes reflecting that flickering light, one in the shape of a … dinner plate? And the other… another dick. What the hell? Oh god, you think automatically about your dick-spot-shaped dog. Where is he?

“Let her go!” the dinner plate yells. The barrel presses further into your head.

“Drop your weapons!” your assailant calls back, “Or she dies!”

You’re in a bad procedural cop show or something, you swear. Or Ashton Kutcher is 50 years old and he is laughing his ass off in a van right now, filming a new season of Punk’d. You squeeze your eyes shut when the gun clicks against your head, which is generally right after it goes off, according to the movies. There’s a warm sensation against your back and you hope to god that it isn’t you pissing yourself. When you smell the coppery scent rising, you realize it’s the man’s blood. When he sways a little and your body droops with him, you are positive it’s his blood.

The funny silver California/dick shape in the distance moves and becomes a small circle, with a dark spot in the middle. Is that a fucking gun? You blink a couple of times to see the shadowy outlines of the two people stepping closer. There’s aggravated whispering from both of them and your attacker begins to yell about something before a deafening blast cracks past your eyes.

Warm blood sprays on your face when the man falls backwards, heavy limb taking you down with him. You get some of it in your mouth and you scramble to fuck off as far as you can from this now dead body. The two shapes are running towards you, one of them gripping you hard by the arm and pulling you up.

“Buckeye! That is not protocol!”

You dizzily shake your head at the sound of your dog’s name and find your balance on the sidewalk, toes pressing against your slipper to have it back on your foot correctly. In front of you were two enormous men, and you recognize them immediately: Captain America and Winter Soldier.

“You know I don’t miss.” The Soldier retorts, bottom half of his face obscured by his signature black latex mask. It muffles his voice, but you can clearly hear the agitation. Captain America looks over your dripping red knees. “You okay, ma’am?”

You ignore him. As far as you are concerned at this point, they’re both just as dead to you as this other fucker on the ground. You want to find your dog.

“Buck?” You call into the patch of darkness as you carefully tread into the grass, wincing when your knees sting with every step. You don’t see the two Avengers looking at each other in confusion.

“BUCK!” You scream again, panic returning to your chest as you think about your dog scurrying around in the dark, dragging his damn leash, and spiraling back into the hot mess he was six months ago. Damn it, it had taken you so long to train him out of being skittish, and now he was going to be right back in it. You look around the dark, turning the flashlight on your phone and follow what looks like to be a trail of blood. It’s not yours, so you correctly deduce it’s Buckeye.

You start to hyperventilate, shaking with every step.

“Oh, Buck, you piece of shit you, I swear to god, if you’re dead, I’m going to kill you.”

“…Ma’am?”

You whip around and glare at Captain America, “What!” He takes a step back, hands coming up as if to deflect your outcry. His partner next to him places his gun back in the holster at his hip with a quiet click, eyeing you suspiciously. Captain America looks around, like he’s surprised you’ve yelled, because he probably doesn’t get yelled at very often by people he saves.

“…Can I ask what you’re doing?”

“Th’ broad’s mental.” The Soldier scoffs, heading back towards the limp body on the ground. He digs his hands into every pocket of the corpse, even opening the mouth to peer inside. “We need to move this body.” He pulls out a tiny USB from a sewn-on pocket inside the vest and puts it in a pouch on his belt.

“I’m looking for my damn dog.” You hurl, “I’m looking for my fucked-up rescue dog, who was doing very well and on his way to being a proper good boy, before you fucks came along and shot him!”

You hear yourself being more and more hysterical with every syllable. Your pitch is increasing with your heart rate, and the part of you that fears retribution from super soldiers is raising its hand up to be called on by your dominant lizard-brain. Your lizard-brain is soaked in fear and refuses the hand.

“That guy shot your dog.” The Soldier nudges the body with a steel-toed boot.

“You scared him! He’s afraid of loud noises and you were shooting up the place, you trigger-happy motherfucker,” you point a finger to the offending Avenger, “You could have shot me, you bag of limp dicks.”

Winter Soldier lets your insults slide; you’re definitely off your meds, he thinks. “Like I said, I don’t miss.”

Captain America finally snaps his shield back onto his back and runs a hand through his hair. You’re half surprised he’s not wearing that dorky-ass helmet he’s usually sporting but turn around regardless and start walking faster, ignoring the muddier ground the further you go in. From the position next to the soon-to-be chalk outline, the two Avengers argue quietly before one of them groans and they both fall silent. You figure they’ve kissed and made up.

Grass is shuffling behind you as Captain America effortlessly catches up to your uneven steps.

“I can track your dog. Let me help.”

You say nothing because you’re so preoccupied with being pissed off that this happened in the first place and because you honestly couldn’t refuse the help regardless of how overinflated your pride was. You couldn’t see for shit in the dark and you’d rather have Buckeye back than any amount of satisfaction flinging insults could bring. Stepping back, you let Brown-Beard take the lead and follow him through the mud and into the back of a unit now five buildings away.

When you slip on a particularly wet patch, he’s quick to grab your elbow and support you. He also takes it as an opening to make conversation.

“What’s type of dog is…”

“Buckeye.” You say, pulling your elbow away and falling back into step. He turns around and raises a single eyebrow.

“Buck…eye?” The second syllable is dropped low- as if he’s unsure that it’s the right thing to say.

“….Yes. Buckeye.” You hiss back.

“Buck…eye.” He repeats again, moving the sounds around in his mouth carefully. You pull a face but say nothing. Boy they sure like to make ‘em big and dumb, don’t they?

“He’s a pit bull. He’s gray with a white patch on his chest. He’s not fucking lethal or anything- like people think he’s just… damaged. He’s not even full-grown; just an oversized ball of anxiety and post-traumatic stress.” Your voice becomes distressed the more you talk about your good boy, and you decide to shut up before you can burst into tears.

“We’ll find him, promise.” Captain tries to send you a smile, but it gets misplaced in the thick of his beard and you’re not even looking anyway, pretending to follow the trail so he doesn’t see your eyes well up. You’re thankful for his help. But fuck him still; he scared your dog.

“There’s no more blood, which is good,” He says, “Steps are getting closer together, so he’s not running anymore. There’s a funny… thing- though. What’s he dragging?”

“His leash.” You mutter.

“Ah.” There’s a pause, “You know, that’s actually a good thing- it’ll slow him down.”

It’s at least another twenty minutes of walking in silence as you follow Captain Star Spangled Banner out of your apartment complex and down three completely decrepit alleyways, at least one littered with broken glass. Upon entering the fourth one, you swear you hear clattering in the back and pick up your speed, calling out.

“Buck? Buckeye? Is that you?” Your voice is quivering in the dark. Your companion has stilled beside you, not letting his footsteps drown out your voice. “Buckeye, come here.” You’re as careful as can be as you quietly step forward, a tiny bit closer to the slow shadow in the corner.

When a car drives by on the main road, the shine of headlights reflects two glowing blue pearls that you’d recognize anywhere. His tail is wagging happily against the pavement of the alleyway, and it breaks your heart to see he’s battered in blood.

You put both your arms around him to settle him from possibly scurrying away at the sight of Captain’s figure, who hangs in the back, but is still so large that it disturbs Buckeye. “My big guy,” You sob into his stupid, dirty neck, “You’re all muddy... Oh Buck, you big idiot… you dummy.”

You find the handle on the leash again, but Buckeye is tentative to follow, stumbling when he stands up on all four feet. When you lean over to examine him, he’s all cut up on his paws and you see it now, the big streak of open flesh on his upper thigh that’s crusted over into a brown stripe. The shiny fur that’s beneath it is matted with more dried blood and it’s so large that you break out into tears all over again. You don’t think he’s able to walk anymore, which might have worked out in your favor; it did stop him from running.

Captain slowly makes his way toward the two of you and reach both hands out, kneeling and laying one gently underneath Buckeye’s snout to scratch him. Your dog inspects the hand nervously before giving it a quick lick. He pants happily at the scratch to his chin and you can’t help but snort at his simplicity. Captain offers to pick him up for you and you let him, surprised that Buck’s letting someone other than you be so close. You’re glad for it, though, since you would not have been able to pick him up out of the alleyway on your own.

“I’ve been compared to a Golden Retriever before,” Captain says amiably as he easily holds Buckeye in his arms, leading you out of the dark path. He’s got a glint in his eye like he’s real proud of himself for that quip. “I definitely think of myself as a dog person.”

You scoff and save your retort for another time, pointing him in the direction of your local pet emergency hospital instead.

It must have been a sight for them, Steve ponders as he sits in the waiting chair of the hospital, giving away smiles at the receptionists and nurses who occasionally gather to stare at him. When the automatic doors slid open, they probably weren’t expecting Captain America in full tactical gear to walk in with a dog in his arms. Not to mention the young woman who followed, looking in not much better shape than the dog.

He glances over to you as you lean back in the plastic chair resembling more of a bucket than anything comfortable. Both your knees are completely skinned raw and the trail of blood reached your feet, caked in mud. The woman at the front desk offered you some bandages and antiseptic, which you’d haphazardly sloshed all over yourself before resigning to let it be. Your eyes have slipped closed as you wait for the nurse to come talk to you about your dog; it is late, after all—nearly four in the morning, and Steve lets you rest when he hears your breathing slow.

He begins to check his phone, punching in a text to Bucky with updates, barely able to hold back the giddy energy inside of him. Bucky was going to flip when Steve cracks open the can of worms that is the dog’s name. And it’s going to completely boil his noodle when he hears that your description of your dog almost perfectly matched Steve’s own description of Bucky. He swears right now, under these old fluorescent lights and with God’s blessing that he would never, ever, let Bucky live this down.

“You… use…a … flip… phone?” Your disbelieving voice is so quiet that Steve thinks a ghost is making fun of him.

“Well, it does flip, and it is a phone.” He retorts, face completely blank for a couple of seconds before breaking out into a smirk.

Your sit up in the chair, looking over to Steve incredulously. “Who are you, my dad?” Your features twist into a disgusted sneer, but he catches the amusement in your eyes.

He chuckles in response. It’s not the first time Steve’s been told that his jokes were corny, at this point in his life, he’s decided to just go with it.

“Don’t you have someplace to be? Maybe more Avenging in another quiet neighborhood?” The snark comes out sharper than you intend it, but between the two hours of sleep last night and probable zero hours of sleep you’ll get tonight, you’re on autopilot.

“It’s being taken care of.” He stares straight ahead. Your comment implies that you’d rather him leave, but he feels in part responsible and obligated to stay. Besides, you’ll need a ride home and someone to carry your pet to the door. “I’m sorry about your dog.”

“He’s not fucking dead,” You huff, “If he was, you and Bicentennial Man would be fucked. You won’t believe how many knives I can carry in my mouth alone.”

Steve almost gives himself whiplash as he does a double-take on your completely placid and unfazed profile view. He thinks it’s better not to ask about the capacity of knives your mouth can hold or about how you know that very specific fact about yourself. However, he can’t help from letting out a wheeze of a laugh because the feral image frankly reminds him more and more of Bucky; Steve has definitely seen Bucky with a knife in his mouth.

Another fifteen minutes pass of drifting in and out of sleep before the nurse peeks her head out and calls you into the treatment room. She stares open-mouthed when Steve followed dutifully behind and closes the door with a quiet click.

Buckeye is lying in a lethargic daze on the table with a plastic cone around his neck. The large gash on his leg has been stitched and carefully covered by gauze and his paws are bandaged up as well. At the sight of the two of you, his tail begins to pat slowly against the smooth surface of the table in quick taps before trailing off and starting back up again. He is looking into your eyes, but Steve can see his gaze wander around the room in a medicated stupor from time to time.

His stomach tightens when you begin to sniffle and draw lazy circles on Buckeye’s head with your thumb. The nurse runs over the health diagnostic for your pup and all seems pretty well, considering the doleful state he’s in.

“He might not eat for the first day, but you’ll have to try to make him...” The nurse hands you a large zip-loc full of bandages, ointments, pills, and paper. “Keep the cone on for at least two weeks and stick to the dosage schedule… Do you have any questions?”

You shake your head, rifling through the various items in the bag before zipping it back up.

“Okay. Well, he’s doing really good, and I think he’ll make a speedy recovery soon.” The nurse offers you a smile and you reply kindly, thanking her for everything before sighing at Buckeye. Steve steps forward in the silent moment and scoops your dog’s tired body into his arms before thanking the nurse as well. She goes white as a sheet when you open the door to let him out. Steve hopes there won’t be any tweets later about Captain America saving puppies.

At the front desk, Steve watches you shuffle side to side when the receptionist rings up each cost. Dressed in an oversized Ohio shirt and pajama shorts, it’s obvious you are not prepared for this. You were probably just a college student, and since he didn’t see you make any phone calls to your parents or family members who might foot the bill, he assumes you’re on your own. Before the receptionist can hand you anything, Steve shifts and tilts his right leg forward.

“Can you reach into this pocket?” He asks, startling everyone in the vicinity: you, the receptionist, and your dog. You stare at him dumbly for a minute, grimacing at the leg pointed in your direction and the back-and-forth Captain America’s eyes keep sending you. It goes from your face to his pocket and every time it returns to your face your frown drops more.

“What?”

“For my wallet.”

“Fuck no!”

“C’mon… I don’t think you have any other options,” the sentence hangs on a truth you don’t need spoken. You pale and begrudgingly reach for the snap closure on his thigh, widening grimace now making your face look like a melted Dali painting. The receptionists’ eyebrows go higher and higher the closer your shaking hand gets. Captain America bounces his leg to shake the leather case loose as your hand digs inside and gets stuck between fabric and muscle. Buckeye grumbles in his arms at the jostling and his holder whispers a quiet apology before nuzzling him with his nose.

He doesn’t notice you staring. The receptionist does.

When the wallet is finally pried free (why are his pants so tight, anyway? This bitch is dummy thicc, too, you think) he motions for you to pull out a black card with a surprising bit of heft to it. You nervously hand it over and avoid eye contact with him as the transaction finishes, stuffing the damn thing back in and snapping it shut in one swift motion. You can feel your face stuck in a rigid expression of bewilderment the entire time.

“I-- uh... thanks... for that.”

He motions you with his head to go outside and when you follow him through the automatic doors, a black car is parked in front. The Winter Soldier is in the driver seat and reaches over to open the door. He’s taken his mask off and looks over at the Captain with your dog in his arms. He’s all stubbly and homeless-looking, you think, the complete opposite of Golden Boy Rogers in front of you.

An exhausted look passes over his dark features as he glances from Captain to Buckeye to your fucked-up knees. “...Just... get in.”

The ride is silent save for the sound of Buckeye’s soft whimpers in the fit of a nightmare. You hush him with soft pets and coo his name in his ears. “It’s okay, Buck. I’m here, Bucky.”

The Soldier snaps his gaze up to you from the rearview mirror. Captain America smirks. You catch neither of their expressions, transfixed on your dog who resembles Frankenweenie more than himself. Stupid fucking bad guy. Stupid Avengers.

“What did you just say?” Winter Soldier slowly asks, and you glare at him in the rearview mirror.

“What?” You snap back. What the fuck was his problem? “Mind your fucking business, I’m talking to my goddamn dog.” Buckeye whimpers again and you pat him lightly to soothe his crying. Captain America begins to chuckle quietly from the passenger seat the longer Winter Soldier stares at you. “Eyes on the fucking road.” You hiss when you catch his glare.

He’s probably going to shoot your ass, you think. Your dog begins to whimper again, a broken string of yowling erupting from him before he stills. The taped gauze on his side has started to turn a slight pink. “It’s gonna be okay, Buck.” You sigh.

“Jesus, what the fuck are you saying?” Winter Soldier nearly shrieks as he pulls sharply into a parking space in front of your building. His volume startles your dog and he shoots up with a loud whine, hitting the plastic cone on the back of the driver’s side. You quickly place both hands on his back to settle him down. “Buckeye, it’s okay.”

Captain America is in a full-on giggle fit now, having to hold his sides to stop himself from seizing. He briefly pauses to apologize and puts a hand on your dog’s head, quieting him with a lazy pet.

“It’s her dog, Buck!” “Yeah I know it’s my dog, Buck.” You snarl, confused as to why this is even a topic of discussion.

Red, white, and shit-for-brains starts up again with the laughing. “Th-the dog’s name--” He wheezes. “Is Buckeye.” There’s a flash of recognition that sweeps over the driver’s reflection in the rearview before it turns into one of annoyance. Then it turns into disdain.

“What kind of a fucking name is that?” He spits before smacking his hand into Captain America’s chest.

“Hey! Shut the hell up! That’s my alma mater you uneducated dickbag!” You point to your red Ohio State shirt with the big “O” right in the middle. It’s so worn and old that the red has faded, and the white print of the O is all cracked, but anyone with two braincells knows exactly what that means. You start bellowing the Ohio State Fight Song proudly and halfway through the second note Buckeye starts to howl weakly beside you.

Captain America bursts into another fit of laughter and pounds on the dashboard with his fists.

The Soldier whips around and slams his metal hand against your mouth, pushing your entire head back against the cushion. “Will you shut up!” To spite him, you continue humming to the best of your ability, even with your lip smushed up against your teeth and his cold palm. You raise your middle finger up between his eyes before holding the last note out particularly long.

Buckeye yowls and yips at your side, punctuating the tune with a quiet whine at the end. He lazily reaches up and licks the elbow joint between the front seat, leaving a slobber trail. He notices his reflection in it temporarily before getting distracted by Captain’s chuckle and lying back down.

Winter Soldier finally pulls his arm away and you take the opportunity to spitefully lick a similar stripe onto his palm, leaving it dripping with the spit you’ve accumulated in your mouth.

He crossly slumps in his seat. “I fucking hate this girl.” He mutters.

“It’s mutual, princess.” You retort, rubbing your stiff jaw and running your fingers against your lips. “What’s your problem with my dog’s name?” You’re a bit suspicious because he doesn’t seem like a college sports guy since he was non-responsive to your shirt but he sure as hell is not a fan of your dog.

“Do you know our names?” Captain America asks you, eyes alight. You shrug, because like, not really. World War II was interesting when you were in the sixth grade and morbid as fuck but it totally went in one ear and out the other for your entire college career. Even more boring was the Captain America propaganda, Super Soldier serum, humanity’s hubris bullshit. You were one of the few people you know who was not losing their mind when Tony Stark toured your university. More than anything, he annoyed you; he caused a huge traffic jam on campus and it ruined your route home. They just weren’t your thing—the Avengers.

“I mean, Stevie Ro… Rober—“ you gauge his reaction carefully, “Ronald— Ro— Ross? Rogers!” You breathe a sigh of relief as he memory of Emily Booth in fourth period doodling “Rogers” inside a million hearts appears in your mind. Then you turn to The Soldier and shrug. Plain as day, you could not recall his name whatsoever. You just called him the Dead Commando in that fourth period American History II final paper.

You got a passing grade, so “Dead Commando” stuck.

“It’s James Buchanan Barnes.” He grits out between clenched teeth.

“That’s fancy.” You deadpan, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Bucky. For short.”

“Buck, for even shorter.” Rogers pipes up, still all twinkly in the eyes, waiting for you to put two and two together. Yeah. You do. It makes you want to die a little.

“Ugh.” Is all you can manage.

He shows up the next morning in civvies: white T-shirt, navy blue bomber jacket, and well-worn dark jeans. You stare dumbly at him as he leans against your doorframe, almost as wide as the entrance itself. You’re half-asleep and dressed in the clothes you had on last night: crumpled red Ohio shirt, mismatched pinstriped blue and white pajama shorts.

Your phone had been misplaced amidst the ruckus of the search party, so you just planned on missing your meeting today. It wasn’t like you could properly function anyway, barely getting to bed at 5:30 and waking up at the asscrack of dawn with Captain Underpants at your door.

Even his knocks sounded patriotic. Big, strong thumping blows that rattled all the way into your bedroom.

“Rough night?” Steve Rogers asks as you try your best to smooth the flyaways of your bedhead. Stupid, perfect, blonde and blue-eyed giant man.

“Am I being haunted? What are you doing here?” Your voice sounds like gravel in a blender as you rub the sleep from your eyes.

He shrugs, looking down at his shoes and smiling secretively, like he’s got another corny joke up his sleeve. “Just wanted to see how Buck’s doing.”

“Don’t you have your own Buck to babysit? From what I remember, he needs a leash more than mine does.”

You let him in anyway, and your dog is waiting patiently by the couch, tail slapping the carpet as he remembers his savior from last night. Steve starts to coo as he scratches Buckeye’s chin and head, careful not to rile him up too much. He looks in complete ecstasy when Steve picks at a particularly good spot.

You shift awkwardly as you stand by the kitchen bar, leaning against a stool. How does one man still manage to look like his superhero moniker in civilian clothing? You bet yourself that his closet hung the same monochromatic color pallet—as if costume director dressed him, just in case he forgot he was Captain America.

“Well...” you begin, moving to the kitchen to brew yourself some coffee. Halfway to the single-serving French press, you trade it out for the larger one and add extra water in the kettle. You’re not sure what to say, so you shut up and groan inwardly as you grind the beans. You dip into the restroom and return with your toothbrush, scrubbing quietly as you watch Steve get on the floor to rub your dog’s pink tummy.

“If you pet him with your foot he won’t know the difference. Save ya knees, man.”

“This good boy deserves a real tummy rub, doesn’t he?” Captain America is using baby talk on your dog. It makes you feel... all funny.

Steve Rogers stands up and beams at you from across the counter. You frown because his perfect white smile is brighter than the sunlight streaming in through your window. You spit and rinse your toothbrush in the sink to avoid the shine, but he’s still there when you return. Great. Not a dream. Maybe a nightmare.

You take the kettle off the stovetop when it starts to squeak and blurt out another snarky comment just because you really hate silences and love being awkward. “Buckeye’s gonna get neutered soon. Wanna take yours too?”

Captain America chuckles and shakes his head, blue eyes twinkling at the hand on your hip. “You know, that smart mouth o’ yours is gonna get you into trouble one day.” You gulp as you pour the water suddenly aware that there is a real, live, broad-as-hell man standing in your living room and looking at you like you’re somebody... and he called your mouth smart.

You’re also suddenly aware that you look like shit and your hand shakes a little when you place the filter over the top of the floating coffee grinds.

“Fuck, I think I’m already in trouble.” You mutter into your shoulder as you turn.

Steve doesn’t catch the comment and digs his hand into his back pocket, producing the phone you’ve been missing since last night. You sigh in relief when you see it- as good as it was before, partially cracked screen, but still working. It’s warm when he puts it in your hand and you automatically pull a face.

“Butt heat. I mean--- hot! Hot ass!—Oh, damn it.”

You shut your eyes and the world feels like it’s stopped spinning altogether. Please god, you think, please let him be gone when you look again because you don’t think you can stand another minute on this Earth. Damn your stupid no-filter smart mouth.

He’s still there, though, because life is so stupid and whatever creator that exist hates you. His left eyebrow is raised, and he’s crossed his arms over his chest, smirking.

“You need to brush up on your compliments.”

“Not a compliment!” You hiss, “Don’t put people’s phones in your back pocket! You’re too fucking big to be sitting on them. But thank you for giving it back.”

Steve laughs as you push the filter down on the French press. He’s saying something about how Bucky wanted to put his hand through the device, but your ears are ringing too loudly to hear him. You feel relieved anyway, because you think that you’ve reached your quip-quota for the day.

You pour yourself a cup and he puts his hands up to stop you, excusing himself-- somewhere to be, some old lady to save, he says. You fumble around a bottom cabinet for a second before pulling out a thermos and dumping the rest of the press’ coffee into it.

“Since you did hand-deliver my phone to me, it’s the least I can do. It’s blue, too. Complements your eyes.”

He smiles and takes the thermos from you. “That was a good compliment.” He says, all twinkly again.

“Complement, not compliment.” You correct bluntly.

He takes two steps to the door before turning, “No, the compliment was that you noticed my eyes at all.” He laughs when your face scrunches up, miffed. Captain America was a real … sonuvabitch. “By the way... I left you a number for a dogsitter, just in case you need one.” You rotate the flat rectangle of your phone against your chest as he yanks the door open. “It’s a good service. Reliable. And they text, too.”

And just like that, he’s gone. You stare at Buckeye, who whines pathetically at the door.

You cock your head, looking at the time on the splintered screen. Might as well, you think, reading 7:15 flashing back at you. You could make it to campus by 9.

The meeting drags on with your advisor, and it’s almost noon before you realize that you’re going to get hauled into another one of those pop-up seminars the faculty has been putting on all year. You’ve managed to avoid two because there’s just no fucking time to go! How are they expecting you to finish your thesis, go to class, grade a hundred stupid student papers, hold office hours, respond to a thousand e-mails a day, and keep your sanity?

It’s something you’re eager to complain to your therapist about any time she starts asking about your personal life. Which, you’ve been dodging re-scheduling recently. Shit.

You calculate the hours you’ll be away as you sip room-temperature coffee from a fuzzy paper cup. It’ll be another four hours before you can make it home and Buckeye really needs to go outside and have his bandages changed before then. Shit.

Your thumbprint opens the home screen and you scroll through your contacts, searching for that aforementioned “reliable” dogsitter. You hope to hell they’re also immediately available as you part a crowd of undergraduates to exit the building. Tapping the message bubble button, you open up a new thread.

You: Hello. I was referred to your services by a friend. Are you available today by any chance?

Your phone almost immediately vibrates back and you sigh in relief.

Dogsitter: That was fast.

You’re confused, but another response pops up again.

Dogsitter: What time do you need me to come by? And for how long?

You: ASAP? If that’s okay? Um. My dog is really fine on his own, but he’s been in an accident and I need him to have his bandages changed and given medicine. Also, he needs to be taken for a potty-break.

Dogsitter: Potty break, medicine, bandages. Got it…. And what about your key?

You: Yeah, I’ll send you my location for my key. What are your rates by the way?

You open up your map and set the pin to your location before sharing it with the dogsitter. It feels way too good to be true, but you’re a little crunched for time and even if he’s a crazy serial killer, you’ve got a pit bull and nothing of value in your apartment. You feel pretty secure.

The attempt to share your coordinates is rejected and you close the notification. Your phone buzzes in your hand again.

Dogsitter: My rates really depend on the dog… and shouldn’t you be asking for my name, or some identifying marker to recognize me by before I show up and take your [1/2]

You stare blankly at the green speech cloud. What the hell… even twitter updated its character count to 280… who the hell is living so far in the past… before you can finish your thought, the following green balloon appears.

Dogsitter: house key? Stranger danger, ma’am. [2/2]

All the right gears start clicking in your brain and suddenly two perfect pieces of the puzzle fits together. The mystifying black shadow on the other end of the line begins to come into view.

You: ….Steve... Roberts?

Dogsitter: Rogers!

The sound that erupts from your mouth is inhumanly pathetic, a mixture of a groan and a whine. Who did you piss off in your last life to be this cursed?

Next Chapter

#marvel #mcu #Steve x Reader x Bucky #fanfiction #self insert #stucky x reader #FiMS #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader

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jbbuckybarnes · 5 years

Text

Knife Instincts

Pair: Bucky x Reader Desc: Bucky gifting you one of his knives and you being so in awe about him gifting something so dear to him without getting the hint. Merry Christmas btw for everyone celebrating on the 24th! Warnings: NSFW, unprotected s*x (wrap it bitches!)

M A S T E R L I S T

You were complete opposites. He liked Fruit Loops, you liked cinnamon flavored corn flakes. He listened to Rock, you listened to Rap. He fought with knifes and guns, you with shuriken and electricity. But you absolutely didn't have a problem with that. Your annoyance over the team unified you.

You were just getting organized after a week long mission, coming from a shower in Natasha's room cause yours didn't work, when you saw his gear all spread out on his bed. You were walking by and your mouth was automatically open. "Wanna see all my knives?" he said walking around in his room, noticing you. His hair was damp, sweatpants and shirt covering his body. "Uh, yeah." you came in and closed the door behind you before silently making your way to the bed. He analyzed your face that was facing the at least two dozen knives on his bed sheets. "I find it fascinating how you fight with these." you muttered before picking one with a dark green handle up. "You wanna learn it?" he asked and your focus shifted up to him again. "Someday. It's a lot of training to go through and I just finished with another technique." you were balancing the knife on two fingers. "It's not hard...you're good with balance, right?" you put the knife back where it was laying and nodded. "Which one is your favorite?" He picked up a Gerber knife and flipped it "Mark II." You didn't see big differences outside of a slightly different handle and a different balance coming with it. "You wanna...?" he held it out. You took it, balanced it again, felt a little different. You switched to holding it blade outward, back of your hand up. You didn't see his lip bite at your movement. "Thumb further up." he pointed out. "Like this?" a sound of approval came back. "Do you wanna keep it?" he asked and made you look up at him with wide eyes. "But you said it's your favorite." you held it in both of your hands again. "And you need something to start practicing." a smirk. "Really? Gosh, thank you." you looked down at it again, balancing it again.

His eyes were glued to your fascinated expression. You had this little shimmer in your eyes that anybody rarely got out of you. God, he hoped so much you'd get the memo. "How old is this? Like...I know they started making these like....over 50 years ago." you mumbled. "Probably 20 years." he shrugged. "You take good care of them, huh?" you smiled up at him and were met with a proud smile. He took good care of anything he loved. "It's really pretty." you went on and he was just screaming inside at how in awe you were about his gesture. "A pretty woman needs a pretty knife." his deep voice finally said something again. You felt yourself blushing and a grin crept onto his face. "So...you'll teach me?" you smiled. "If you want me to." "Well, technically I need a break but...you're really chill with this, right? Cause I really could only train with you maybe twice a week and I'm really not that good." you went on and on. "Hey, it's alright. We can do this whenever you want. This needs a lot of concentration." his hand was on your left forearm all of a sudden. "Okay," you nodded, "uh, I'll leave you to it then, I guess." The last thing you wanted was to interrupt his workflow or evening plans. You were almost at the door when you were stopped by a metal hand on your shoulder. "I wanted to gift it to you because I kinda think I'm in love with you." bursted out of him and his eyes landed on the floor when you fully turned around. "Really? Like...are you serious?" A nod and his eyes went up to see you flustered as hell, "Uh, gimme a second." You leaned against the door behind you and and breathed in and out, "You know, I always thought we were too different to try dating, but...well...turns out..." mid sentence you just couldn't hold back the urge anymore and almost jumped him to kiss him. "You look so hot with a knife." was mumbled against your lips between two kisses. "You sure you wanna teach me? Could be difficult to keep it in your pants, Barnes." you smirked up at him. "You don't have any idea how regularly my eyes land on your behind on missions where I take long range." he grinned back down before squeezing said behind. "Your concentrated look on a sniper rifle looks pretty sexy. Can't believe that's been watching me every other mission." you pulled him down on his shirt and another more urgent kiss was interchanged. "Then let's get on with it and finish my mission." he picked you up, his left arm pushing all his knives aside at his final destination. "Friday, lock my room." he said before his eyes were glazed over with a deeply instinctive look. He looked at you like you were his prey and what he needed to protect at all cost at the same time. You never saw someone look at you with such a raw and natural expression. Even if you wanted your body to do something else right now, your instincts were definitely kicking in too. Your underwear was damp in a few seconds with warmth spreading from your center and a needy whimper left you. His lips were slowly taking an adventure over every inch of your body. He needed to take you in. Every little flaw, every sound, every smell, every taste. "Fuck." his unexpected detour directly to your softest spot made you call out for him. A growl was the only audible answer before your back started arching, your body started shimmering from all your panting and your mouth started to have a mind of its own. Your noises were as raw, vulnerable and guttural as his. He was starved and you were the only thing not poisoned in his life. And he showed you that. Thoroughly. His warmth suddenly left you but before you could complain your hands were pressed into the mattress above your head.

The glace over his eyes went away for a second to ask consent. "Mhm." was the only thing you could get out before he let his instincts take over again. Lips were capturing yours while a slightly burning and exciting feeling started building between your legs. Tongues were dancing with every move and the groans and growls were muffled only by hungry mouths. Your vision slowly started getting unfocussed, white dots everywhere. Breathing was close to hyperventilation when the tingle all over your body collectively went to your center and exploded there. Warmth started filling you up even more, you were feeling full, complete. "Mine." he said into your ear with a deep voice, making you shiver. "Please don't leave me." you whispered. It felt right to have him where he was. "Want more?" his hair was hanging into your face and a loving but suggestive smirk was hidden between the hair strands. "Yes, please. Feels so right." you exhaled content. He started moving again, making you tense up and him ready again. "Talk to me, darling." his instincts needed to get out of the way after the first time. This was only for you. "Feels so good." you whispered with your eyes closed and loving eyes looking down at you. "How does that feel?" he pushed your legs from his waist to rest against his shoulders and your mouth fell open. It didn't take long for your sensitive spots to make you implode again. "God, I feel like your body just completes mine." you said out of breath. "You can have that anytime." he winked with a grin. "You and your supersoldier-ness." you playfully rolled your eyes before his warmth left you and what was left of it spilled out of you onto the bed sheets.

"I should gift you knives more often." he smirked down at you proudly. "Why so?" you grinned slowly sitting up. "You're mine now, right? Have to live up to my reputation." he grinned, walking towards his bathroom. "Does that also mean I can use your shower while mine's trash?" you said louder. "If you don't mind me joining." you were both unknowingly grinning the same grin. "Never." He came out again, throwing you a washcloth. "So, when do we start training?" you asked cleaning yourself up. "When I'm not getting a hard on anymore from you simply holding a knife correctly." "So...never." you shared a grin.

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etherealwaifgoddess · 5 years

Text

Somewhere Only We Know

Main Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Since joining the Avengers you can’t seem to get any alone time with Bucky. You take matters into your own hands and find a creative solution to get the handsome super soldier back in your arms.

Warnings/ Content: Referenced sex. It’s all off screen and nothing is blatantly stated.

Dialogue prompt: “Pleeeeaaase, can we just step away for a little bit? I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Word Count: 1.5k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! This is my little entry for Lani’s 3rd Mysterious Writing Challenge for the oh-so-talented @propertyofpoeandbucky. She’s amazing ya’ll. If you haven’t read anything by her yet I *highly* recommend you go take a look at her stuff. I hope you enjoy this Lani!! Thank you for hosting such a fun challenge :)

Somewhere Only We Know

(title from the song by Keane)

It wasn’t often you had time alone with Bucky. If it was up to the universe, you’d have none at all. Since joining the Avengers you found yourself constantly surrounded by various members of the eclectic group. Whether you were on missions or just lounging around the tower on your day off, there was always someone, most times multiple someones, around. It was like living in a college dorm all over again, and that was not an experience you were happy to repeat. Especially while you were trying to flirt with a certain centenarian ex-assassin.

You’d had one blissful week together when Bucky came to recruit you. He’d found you in a crappy motel outside Philadelphia, hiding out after your powers had manifested on live TV in an almost horrific incident at a NFL game. A bomb had gone off during half time and you managed to get a protective force field around it in time for the bomb to implode inside the bubble without harming anyone. Of course, a girl with purple energy flowing around her who was able to save thousands of lives garnered a lot of attention from both the good guys and the bad ones. You had been on the run for two weeks when Bucky finally caught up with you.

You were his first recruitment mission and he was determined to bring you in to join the team. You weren’t certain about being an Avenger but you were sure about getting him in bed. The super soldier’s thighs gave you a brand new appreciation of the word thicc. You’d spent the next six days enjoying each other’s company until Steve showed up, thinking he could help Bucky convince you to come back with them. You had never seen someone blush so hard their ears turned red. Steve was blessedly oblivious and you returned with them the next day.

After you returned to the tower with the guys your life had been a blur of training and practice. Bucky and you both agreed to keep what had happened to yourselves, not wanting it to potentially impact your ability to join the Avengers. You sparred with Nat, learned marksmanship from Clint, practiced controlling your powers with Wanda, jogged with Steve and Sam, and picked up a little basic first aid from Bruce. You knew it was important to be learning all that you could, to get yourself ready for the inevitable first mission, but you still missed Bucky. You’d barely get ten minutes alone with him at a time, never quite enough to make good use of it.

It was a month into your training when you’d hit your limit. Bucky was too shy to slip off to your room at night, he was still sharing an apartment with Steve and his absence would be obvious. You started looking for out of the way places you might be able to slip off to unnoticed together. There were a few regular times that your day intersected with Bucky’s so you strategized when you would be able to make your move. You just hoped Bucky was still interested. Though the way he’d had to excuse himself last week when your shirt rode up while sparring with Nat seemed to indicate he was.

You were cleaning up the kitchen after lunch, packing away the last of the leftovers, when Bucky walked into the room. He was still sweaty from his workout and the sight of his grey joggers riding low on his hips made your mouth go dry. It was now or never. “Hey Buck.” you greeted him with a welcoming smile.

“Hey, Y/N. Are there any sandwiches left?” he asked while refilling his water bottle from the tap on the fridge.

“There are, or I could go show you the new wing of the bionics lab they’re building.”

“What? I thought they’d stopped construction on that until Spring?”

“They did. But you see, it’s all the way up on the twenty second floor and no one ever goes up there.”

“Then why would we… oh.” Bucky’s eyes widened as he realized what you were implying.

“Oh.” you echoed, nodding your head. “So what are you more hungry for, Barnes? The sandwich, or me?”

Bucky blinked a moment at your blatant proposition before his brain got on board and you raced to the elevators.

It became a habit, meeting up in the abandoned construction of what would eventually be an extension of Stark’s bionics lab. It was always frantic, heated, and absolutely amazing. You were dreading Spring’s arrival when you’d lose your hideaway. Hopefully by then your relationship would be able to be public.

After an agonizingly long mission away, Bucky returned to the tower, tac gear covered in grime and still reeking of smoke. The second you locked eyes on him, you desperately wanted to get him alone. You wanted to help ease the tension in his shoulders and sadness in his eyes, take his mind off of whatever he had endured for a little while.

Everyone was gathered in the common room while Tony gave a mission report to the rest of the team. It wasn’t ideal but you were undeterred.

“Hey.” you whispered quietly to Bucky, knowing his super soldier hearing would pick up your words.

“Hiya, doll.” he answered, making sure his voice was just loud enough for you, and you alone, to hear.

“Wanna go up to our spot? They’ll never miss us.”

“We should hang around ‘til Stark is done.” he whispered with a frown.

“Pleeeeaaase, can we just step away for a little bit? I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” you begged, “We’ll be quick, they won’t even notice we’re gone.”

Bucky sighed and you could tell he was relenting.

You were exiting the elevators, ready to slip back into the common room unnoticed barely twenty minutes later. Tony’s debrief meetings were usually an hour, so you should have still had plenty of time. Bucky went first, phantom silent as he slid back to his place along the back wall of the room. You waited a heart beat before making your way back to your spot next to him. It should have been perfect, you had practiced your stealth moves with Nat and were getting pretty damn good. Unfortunately your best laid plans were all taken down by a chip.

Clint had helped himself to a bag of potato chips from the snack bowl and he crunched into one loudly right as you appeared in the doorway. Everyone’s eyes snapped over to the source of the sound and saw your attempted sneaking in the background. It might not have been too suspicious if it weren’t for the smudge of soot on your neck and your deer in the headlights expression. The fact that you’d buttoned two of your blouse buttons wrong in your hurry was just icing on the cake. Bucky’s eyes widened in silent panic as he realized you were busted and he stayed frozen in place as you laughed nervously, eyes scanning the shocked expressions of your team mates.

Finally, Tony cleared his throat. “Wow. Robo Cop and our own little Glow Worm.” he shook his head in amused disbelief, “Good job, Glow Worm. Robo Cop, don’t make me give you the shovel talk, capiche? Now, let’s get back to work.”

Everyone else was too stunned to comment so you just slunk back to your spot next to Bucky. “So much for discrete.” you whispered with an apologetic smile.

“It was inevitable.” he shrugged.

“At least we won’t have to sneak upstairs to fool around now.”

“I don’t know, doll. I kinda like having somewhere only we know.”

“Love birds!” Tony shouted, startling you both. “Do you want to pay attention to the class, or do you want to go back upstairs and keep defiling my almost-lab?”

The two of you cringed in unison.

“So much for that.” you chuckle quietly, nudging Bucky in the ribs. “Sorry Tony!” you shout back.

“Wait? What!? Were you really? I was just taking a stab in the dark there. Oh god, my new lab! FRIDAY, get a hazmat crew up to the twenty second floor, stat! And you two. Ohhh you, two. Please, I beg of you. Go make use of one of the many beds we have here at Avengers Tower, preferably your own.”

Bucky blushed fiercely, his ears adorably on fire.

“I don’t want to see either one of you until noon tomorrow at the earliest. Go on now, shoo.” Tony waved his hands at you dismissively.

“The boss said so.” you shrugged at Bucky with a flirty smile.

Bucky grinned wolfishly at you, “Orders are orders.” he said before scooping you up in his arms.

You let out a little squeak as Bucky carried you off and you could hear Tony resuming his debriefing in the distance. It wasn’t the most ideal way for the team to find out, but somehow you couldn’t seem to mind at all.

#lanis3rdmysteriouswritingchallenge #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfic #marvel #Winter Soldier #Marvel Avengers #non cannon compliant

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seungyovn · 5 years

Text

it reminded me of you

prompt: 2/100 ways to say i love you. “It reminded me of you.”

pairing: han seungwoo x reader

genre: established relationship, fluff, lots of fluff

word count: 1768

warnings: none

The bright light of the morning's sunrise shines into your eyes, waking you up like a silent alarm. Your body tenses. The alarm or lack thereof sends your entire body into a panic.

You had slept through your alarms.

The clock on your phone reads 6:41 in the morning. You were going to be late.

A strong arm wraps around your waist, holding you firmly in your place next to him on the mattress. Seungwoo mumbles something incoherent in his sleep.

"What?" you ask him to repeat himself, your efforts to pull his fingertips away from you side only make him hold onto you tighter.

"It's Saturday, baby." he rolls over, opening a sleep filled eye to look at your face as you process what he is telling you.

"Saturday?" you look down at your phone, pressing the button on the side of the screen until it flashes the date and time.

Your boyfriend was right, It was Saturday.

"Come back to bed." Seungwoo mumbles, tightening his grip so your body has no other choice but to lay back down.

As if on autopilot, you unlock your phone, refreshing you e-mail to make sure that nothing had imploded at your office during the 8 hours you were asleep. There were several memos, invoices from your suppliers and a slew of time off requests from your employees hoping to make it home in time for the upcoming holiday. You start to reply to a few, keeping your messages short as you know none of your employees would read it until Monday.

"Y/N." you can't ignore the annoyance in your boyfriend's voice.

"Hmm?" you ask, reaching out to play with his hair while you read the last couple of messages.

"Can't that wait until tomorrow?" he asks, sighing as he rolls onto his back. “Or even better, Monday when you actually have to work.”

"Just one more minute." you assure him you'll be off your phone soon.

Except Seungwoo is impatient. He takes the phone from your hands, locking the screen before tucking it under his pillow. If you wanted it back you would have to crawl over him, and with the look he was giving you through his bedhead, you knew better than to try.

"Saturday mornings are for sleeping. Not work.," he reminds you, very much not awake.

"I know, I just wanted to make sure everything is going alright."

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye. "Don't you think if there was an emergency someone would have called you, not sent it in an e-mail?"

You couldn't argue with his logic. "You're right."

"Now will you please just relax and cuddle with me? I can't remember the last time I got to wake up next to you."

You hate the way his words make your chest ache, especially knowing that he was right. It had been weeks or maybe even months since the last time the two of you were able to wake up in each other's arms. Most mornings started with you slipping out of bed hours before Seungwoo does. And most nights ended with you slipping into bed hours after Seungwoo does.

It was the price you paid for your dream job. The position you had been dreaming about since college was finally yours. And you loved it. It never really felt like "work". But in moments like these, where you can see how your devotion to your job affected those closest to you, almost enough for you to consider a different path.

It doesn't take long for Seungwoo to drift back to sleep, the grip he had on his waist lessens as his breathing deepens. You shift into his warmth, wrapping your arm around his large frame until your skin is pressed into his. You align your breathing with his, taking deep breaths in hopes that you will be able to slip back into your dreams for a few more hours.

Except your body betrays you, making you toss and turn for what feels like only 15 minutes before you can't take it anymore. You give up, sighing as you resign to your fate of alertness. Although technically, you had slept in for an hour, there was something so cruel about waking up before 9 AM on your day off.

You reach out towards Seungwoo's side of the bed, expecting to feel the warmth of his body next to you but all you find is an empty space. The heat of his skin was long gone, leaving behind nothing but the shapes his left on the sheets. His absence makes you sit up, wiping the sleep out of your eyes as you look for any sign of him.

He wasn't in the shower as his bathrobe was still hanging neatly on the back of your bedroom door. You didn't see him in the rest of your shared apartment as you make your way to the bathroom in hopes that your morning routine will help bring some life back into your tired frame.

But once you look in the mirror you realize that there isn't enough toner and face cream in the entire beauty industry to wash away the dark circles that clung to your eyes like shadows. Their constant presence serving as a visual representation of you devotion to your job, and everything you sacrifice in order to do it.

You take your time however, using products you saved for days like today. You even throw on a sheet mask because you actually had the time to enjoy the serum soaking into your skin for the next fifteen minutes.

Seungwoo still hadn't returned by the time you peel the mask off your skin. His keys and gym shoes were missing so he might have gone out for a run despite his words earlier this morning..

It seems like you weren't the only one having a hard time relaxing.

You wander back into your bedroom and start to make your bed, placing the pillows exactly how you like them and admire your handiwork. You remembered arguing with Seungwoo in the middle of the store over whether or not it was a smart idea to get white bed sheets. He was convinced you would spill coffee onto them while working from home but you reminded him that bleach existed. Eventually he caved with the compromise of letting him pick out the sofa and buying a desk for you to use on days you didn’t go into the office.

You hear the melodic beeping of your front door unlocking, letting you know that Seungwoo had returned from his outing. His feet quickly shuffle towards the bedroom, making your heart flutter with anticipation until you hear the sound of a chair being dragged across the room.

"I'm sorry Y/N, but you can't come out yet." there is a secretive playfulness in his voice as you hear the sound of the chair being propped up against the door handle.

You rattle it, trying to open it but the wooden chair was holding the door firmly in place.

"Seungwoo?" you call out. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing!" he calls out over the sound of his hands shuffling through bags quickly followed by the cabinets opening and closing.

"Then why am I being held hostage by my boyfriend?" you pout even though he can't see you through the walls.

"Just be patient!" he tells you, clearly distracted by whatever it is he's doing.

You hear his footsteps headed towards the bedroom. You try to be patient as he removes the chair from the door, freeing you from your makeshift captivity.

Seungwoo looks at you with a mischievous smile on his face. "Are you ready?"

"Why do I feel like I should be scared?" you question him, hesitantly stepping into the hallway.

You can feel his eyes staring at you as you make your way into the living room. Everything looks like how you left it until your eyes scan across the dining table.

"Wow." is all you can bring yourself to say as you walk over to admire Seungwoo's handiwork.

The table was covered in your favorite treats. The flaky pastries from the bakery on the first floor of your building. The egg sandwiches from your favorite coffee shop down the street. He even brought you your favorite coffee order, decanting it from the reuseable cups he always reminds you to bring into the coffee mugs you drank out of at home.

Your hand moves on it's own, reaching out towards the large bouquet of flowers he had placed in a glass vase in the middle of the table. The petals of your favorite flowers are soft against your fingertips, making your heart feel light as a feather.

"It reminded me of you." Seungwoo whispers into your ear, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulls you into a tight back hug.

"How did you? When did you?" Your eyes widen and you quickly turn around to face your boyfriend. "Did I miss something? An anniversary? What day is it today?"

He squeezes you gently as he realizes you are about to start panicking, knowing it wouldn't be the first time you had forgotten about a special date in your relationship. He runs his fingers through your hair, trying to calm you down. "Relax, Y/N. It's just a Saturday."

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down and look over your shoulder at the table and then back at your boyfriend. "Then what is all this for?"

Seungwoo smiles, placing a tender kiss to your lips. "You've been working so hard lately. Coming home late. Leaving for the office earlier and earlier. I know how difficult things have been and I just wanted to do something nice for you."

He blushes at the way you look at him like he is made up of a million stars, illuminating even your darkest days. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

It was your turn to kiss him this time, letting your lips tell him the answer to his question.

"So you like it?" he asks after you pull away, his nervousness makes you fall for him even more (something you didn't know was possible at this point in your relationship.)

"I love it." you smile, leading him towards his usual seat at the table.

"I don't even know where to start." you tell him, trying to figure out what you wanted to eat first.

Seungwoo laughs. "We have all day."

You smile back and correct him. "We have all weekend."

#seungwoo #x1 #x1net #x1 fanfic #x1 scenarios #x1 imagines #han seungwoo #writing

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synvamp · 5 years

Text

HAPPY PLACE 4

So apparently now I’ve found my happy place (Vol 7 Ep 5), I’m never going to leave.

Slow burn, lots of flirting and fluff - adorable Clover, birb Qrow. HEAL ME

(Part One HERE)

Title: Healing

Fair Game – Part Four / 5? More?

Rating: M

---xxx---

Qrow lay in bed in the dark. It was nearly like sleeping.

He thought about the last few days. His missions with Clover. The looks Clover gave him, the reassuring hand that just found his shoulder, lifted his chin, clasped his waist…

He could tell Clover had been trying to take it slow… give him a little time after the kiss.

Hope he didn’t take that ‘intense’ comment too seriously. Why do I have to have such a smart mouth!? Qrow grinned in the dark. Ok, not going to regret being a smart ass. There has to be a line, right?

His mouth kept him safe. It kept people at a distance. No one really knew when he was serious so he could say what he was really thinking and they’d shrug it off. It was just another weapon in his personal arsenal – another way to keep people he cared about as far away as possible.

Two weeks.

There was no way Clover would survive. In the two days since that amazing kiss he’d been nearly buried in rubble twice, thrown off a building, caught in a grim stampede and nearly hit by lightning. Actual lightning.

Qrow turned over and buried his face in his pillow again. All he could think about was the feeling of Clover’s lips. The firm kiss still lingered, he could almost feel those calloused fingers stroke down his face and lift his chin…

Still sexually frustrated.

Would sleeping with him make it worse? If he follows me around like a love sick puppy (Qrow smiled a little too hard in the dark) then won’t he be doomed anyway? Would giving the both of them a tiny hint of relief really be such a bad thing?

I could certainly use some damn sleep, he thought, pressing his hard-on into the sheets and sighing.

In a fit of frustration he leapt off the bed, throwing the covers everywhere. That’s it. I’m getting up. This is bullshit.

He looked over at the clock. It was four-thirty. Must have drifted off for a little at least…

Only four hours until the briefing. Only four hours until I see him again.

It felt like a long time.

Qrow flicked a light switch and scowled into the bright light. He threw on some shoes and left his room. He wore sweats and a t-shirt to bed so he didn’t even have to get dressed. Just walk. Find a rhythm in your steps. Walk and keep walking.

It was a good way to keep the demons at bay. He just let the rhythm of his body take him. He went around the corridors, sometimes hearing a faint snoring from someone’s quarters. It was weirdly comforting after everything that had happened, the sound of other people, relaxed… fast asleep.

He found himself in the mess hall before long, empty metal tables gleaming in the moonlight which streamed through the window.

He turned his heels to go and a voice floated out of the darkness, “Can’t sleep?”

Clover.

Qrow hesitated on the threshold. He considered just walking away. Probably better to get as far away from the guy as possible before he spontaneously combusts…

But he didn’t. He just stood there. Clover walked out of a shadow beside the window, he approached slowly and sat on a table a few metres away.

Still giving me space. Why does he have to be so damn considerate?

“Didn’t think you were the skulking in the shadows type,” Qrow drawled, trying to make light of the situation. His chest felt like it was going to implode as the light hit Clover’s face just so…

“I have a dark streak,” Clover smiled.

“Oh yeah?” Qrow felt a smile tugging at his lips. Clover. Dark. What a heap.

“Yeah. I like horror movies and I dress up every year for Halloween,” he nodded like this was absolutely conclusive.

Qrow shook his head, “I can’t even tell if you’re serious.”

Clover opened his mouth in mock-offense, “I’m always serious! I’m super, super serious!”

Qrow just laughed. How can this guy make me feel so relaxed!? It’s five am!

But as soon as his heart began to lift he felt it all come crashing down. Clover’s face was so open, so welcoming, so GODDAMNED HAPPY.

I can’t do this to him. I can’t inflict this… me… on him. On his life.

“Well, enjoy the darkness then I guess…” he said, as he turned away.

He could hear Clover stand up behind him, “Qrow… wait…”

He hesitated, one foot over the threshold.

This is selfish. This is selfish. Don’t punish him for being so good.

He felt the hand on his shoulder.

Don’t do it to him, Qrow. You’re enough of an asshole already.

“Watch it,” he said, “I’m pretty sure if you touch me for long enough the whole of Atlas will fall out of the sky.”

“Hasn’t happened yet,” Clover’s voice was soft behind him.

“Yeah right,” Qrow turned, guilt and self-loathing making him surly, “you’ve survived two days of being near me. Lucky, lucky you. Hopefully next time there’s a storm you don’t stand a foot to the left, hey? Hopefully next time there’s some grim on the loose, you don’t lose your footing at the top of a high building, hey!? And we can only damn PRAY that ne..”

“Stop it!” Clover’s eyes burned with an intensity Qrow hadn’t seen before.

They both were startled into silence.

Finally, Clover let his hand drop from Qrow’s shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said.

Qrow looked at him and felt a flicker in his chest. Something more than sexual frustration, more than lust.

Oh no… I can’t do this.

Qrow pushed the feeling deep into his stomach. That’s it. I’m done.

He turned and Clover’s hand grabbed his elbow. Qrow looked down, a full on war raging in his chest. Don’t you want to live you cocky idiot!?

“You don’t get it! What do I have to do to get rid of you!?” his voice was raised but in his heart, he just felt empty.

Clover smiled down at him, his eyes bright and his cheeks kissed with the first hint of a blush. He didn’t let go.

“If you stop shouting, that might help.”

What do I do…!? Do I tear my arm away? Kiss him? Fall on his perfect muscled chest and just fucking cry!?

From somewhere inside his smart mouth came to his rescue, “You like me shouting?” it said.

Clover looked at him with those perfect turquoise eyes, “Yes. I really like you shouting.”

Qrow smiled in spite of himself, “You’re a weird guy.”

Clover finally let go of his elbow but his eyes still searched Qrow’s face with worrying intensity, “It’s been said.” He gave a wry smile in return.

Qrow hesitated, it would be so easy to just lean forwards… just put his head on Clover’s chest and let him kiss all the pain away. “Persistent fucker, aren’t you?” he said.

“Yeah…” Clover shook his head, looking suddenly embarrassed, “I know I come on a bit strong… I’m sorry. I want you to know that I’m here for you in… all the ways but I don’t actually want to hound you to the ends of the earth… so… if you don’t want to take it any further… you can just let me know. I’m a professional. I won’t make it a big deal.”

Clover looked at the ground like it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. Yes, here is my heart, please, step on it.

“Further?” Qrow squeaked, regretting it instantly.

“Yes,” Clover told the floor.

“Like…?” Qrow said. No, stop this! I’m leaving, remember!?

Clover looked up, his eyes twinkling, “Like when a man and a man like each other very mu..”

Qrow spluttered, trying to cough and laugh at the same time, “Ok. Yes. Thanks. I am a little bit old for the birds and the bees if you don’t mind.”

They looked at each other for a minute, Qrow memorising this moment. Memorising his face. It never did to let these moments pass when joy was fleeting and always, always gone too soon.

Finally, he spoke, “And what’s with all the sass recently? I thought that was my schtick.”

Clover grinned, sheepish, “I thought you might like it. You seem to get sick of the tin soldier trope.”

“I… do like it,” Qrow breathed, leaning in almost imperceptibly. He could feel the warmth of Clover’s chest. Feel where his hand had rested on his shoulder… all the delicious thoughts that had swirled around in his mind for hours just came pouring out… he looked into Clover’s eyes.

Now or never, asshole.

“What about you?” Qrow asked, his voice breathy, barely a whisper.

“What about me?” Clover asked, his eyes fixed on Qrow’s lips.

“Are you the dinner and a movie type?” Qrow asked. He stopped breathing.

“You paying?” Clover sassed.

“Just stop ok. It’s weirding me out.”

Clover laughed, “I don’t know, I’m starting to like it.”

“Ok, I’ll pay! You really know how to make a guy feel special, you know that?” Qrow scowled, faking mad.

Clover looked at his dark, brooding face with a look that bordered on catatonic.

“You are so hopeless,” Qrow laughed.

“Only with you,” Clover breathed.

Fuck it.

Qrow lifted his hands around Clover’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. He felt those rough hands close around his waist and pull them together. After that there was just lips, then strong arms picking him up and carrying him down the corridor.

“Put me down!”

“No,” Clover said as he marched back to his quarters with his prize.

Oh well, I tried, Qrow thought as he melted into the warm chest and tried not to think about what he was going to do to the arrogant asshole as soon as the door had closed.

---xxx---

“So…” Yang asked, keeping it casual, “Where are you going?”

“Dinner. It’s dinner time. I’m going to dinner,” Qrow said, not meeting her eyes.

“With… Clover?”

Qrow turned sharply, glowering into her cool violet gaze, “Yes. He bet me that my misfortune couldn’t ruin everything if he was around.”

“And the best way to test that is dinner?”

“Yesssss.”

“And that’s why you spent 2 hours getting ready…”

“Haven’t you got someone else to annoy?” Qrow asked, hoping his hair was still ok.

“Not really…” she grinned. “OK WELL I have to go,” Qrow said, scuttling out of that hell hole as fast as he could move.

---xxx---

Clover sat at the table, gazing out into the cold winter sky. Qrow was late but only a little. And for the first time, Clover wasn’t worried. Last night was… OH GODS IT WAS AMAZING HOW DO YOU EVEN MOVE YOUR BODY LIKE THAT UGH…

Yeah ok. It was good, he laughed at himself nervously and covered his hard-on with a serviette. What a man.

The window was open just a crack to balance the heat from the blazing fire. As Clover gazed out across the swirling snowflakes, thinking about ass, a little black bird hopped through the window and onto the table.

“Awww look at you,” Clover said softly, “Hey there little guy…” he laughed as he realised what type of bird it was. “Oh no! I think we’ve got our wires crossed; I’ve just fallen in love with a totally different crow! And if he sees us like this, who knows what might happen,” he smiled and broke a bread roll in half, putting half on the table in front of the little bird, “but here… aww I can’t be mad at you. Maybe we can have a little thing on the side… my Qrow can be a bit snarky and you are just SO CUTE!”

The little bird hopped onto the other seat and looked at him, head slightly tilted and little red eyes glittering.

In an instant Clover was looking into a completely different pair of glittering red eyes as the blush to end all blushes surged onto his face.

“I’m not cute,” Qrow said pointedly, “but thanks for the roll.”

Clover blinked. The blush deepened, “SO CUTE,” he squeaked.

“Oh my god, stop it now,” Qrow grinned.

After a little time, Clover regained the power of speech, “Well, I see that my humiliation is finally complete.”

“It has been for quite a while, I’m afraid.”

“Why must I fall for gorgeous, mouthy bad boys!? I’m a smooth guy!”

“I don’t know,” Qrow shrugged, just enjoying the moment.

“Well…. Uh…” Clover buried his head in the menu.

Qrow mulled over what he’d just heard. I mean, it wasn’t a heart to heart… Clover was just dribbling crap at what he thought was a cute bird. It didn’t mean anything.

…I’ve just fallen in love with a totally different crow…

His heart surged in his chest as he looked across the table at this, sexy confident guy… his ears were still bright pink.

He’s fucking adorable.

This is not ok.

As he stared, Clover’s eyes flicked up. He grinned like a total idiot then looked away.

UGH, Qrow’s whole body groaned.

DOOMED.

---xxx---

Part Five

#qrow branwen #clover ebi #fair game #rwby spoilers #rwby 7 #fanfiction

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prettyyoungtragedy · 6 years

Text

Written in the Stars - Epilogue

Characters: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: You’re the type of woman who is headstrong and fiercely independent. Heiress to a fortune and one of the most brilliant minds of the 21st century. Until you’re forced into witness protection. Your “Protection” turns out to be 220 pounds of dreamy, sassy, delightful Bucky Barnes. Whatever could go wrong?

Warnings: Fluff and more god damn fluff!

A/N: And the time has come for me to say goodbye to these characters that I poured my blood sweat and tears into lol. Man, I love each and every single one of you who left the most amazing, gorgeous heart rendering feedback on this fic! You made my days SO MUCH BETTER with all the comments and reblogs and asks screaming at me! I adored writing this for you guys and I hope the next time I write some Bucky trash you all will jump on the bandwagon again!

Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for coming along this angsty garbage train of a fic and for sticking with me through till the end. Y’ALL ARE SOME FUCKIN’ OG MOTHER FUCKERS AND I LOVE YOU FOR IT!

Thank you to @suz-123 for all the hours you put into listening to me whine about Bodyguard!Bucky and for all the words of encouragement (and the threats lol). This fic wouldn’t have been half as great if I didn’t have a fucking world class Beta like you. I got real love for you friend!

Links are being a bitch so you can find the whole fic in my WIP masterlist in my bio!

Taglist is closed, Sorry guys!

Crisp cool sheets against your back, Bucky’s lips ghost over yours and you sigh, headily. It’s a reunion, you finally got the all clear from the doctors that you were healed from all bullet wounds, broken bones, and bruises and it wasn’t even half an hour later that you were all over Bucky.

It was desperate stumbling through the lake house, clothes tossed across the room, his arms around you as tight as he could hold you and lips pressed to yours, tongues dancing with each other before you both crashed into the bed in his bedroom.

He placed slow deliberate kisses along the column of your neck, pausing at your pulse and just feeling its slow steady beat for a moment, his mind filled with only thoughts of you and how much he adored you at that moment before he traces the outline of your collarbone with his tongue. Your fingers tangled in his dark hair, pulling him impossibly closer, his lips traveled across your chest, pausing at the scar the bullet had left and pressed a kiss to it then moved to the next scar.

Bucky takes his time, he has no urgency about this moment, he wants it to last for as long as it could. A lifetime of exploring your body with his mouth didn’t feel like enough time for him. His hands roaming across your body, yours on his, soft kisses and murmurs of how much you loved each other.

He holds you as close as he can to his body as he pushed into you, his lips finding yours again, muffling the moan that escapes your throat.

“Fuck, I love you,” He muttered leaning down and kissing you softly again as he fucked you, each slow deep thrust sends a spark snapping up your spine and your mind spinning with affection for this man. He looked at you with those starlight eyes and you were drowning in them. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you, everything about being with this man sets your existence alight.

You curled your arm around his neck, the other under his metal arm and hold him closer, your bodies flushed as you moved to the rhythm of the other. The ecstatic pleasure building between the two of you, higher and higher and you feel dizzy from it.

And when that ecstasy implodes, toppling both of you over the edge of that cliff you’re standing on together, it’s like everything in life aligned for you again, and nothing else mattered but him, and this moment.

~~~

“When did you and Fury decide on that?” Bucky asked, interlacing his fingers with yours. It had been a week since your little reunion and he had done well not to ask too many questions, or demand answers from you.

The two of you kicked everyone out of the lake house and just wrapped yourselves up in each other. Taking every moment you could, just loving each other.

Bucky said he loved you every chance he got, he said it when he woke up, when the two of you went to sleep, he murmured it when he held you in his arms as the two of you did nothing but cuddle on the couch, and he fervently said it every time he made love to you that week, which was more than two people should have at that point.

Every time he said it, you responded with the same amount of fervor he did. It was like the two of you wanted to keep saying it over and over until it was all the other could think about and at that moment, it was all you could think about, just how much you loved this man.

“After the car incident, he came to see me while I was in the Med Bay and we talked about it. He told me they would never stop coming after me as long as I was alive,” You replied tilting your head and looking up at him, “So he explained Tetrodotoxin to me, which I already knew about, since I sort of helped Banner with some of the research for that, and we came up with the plan to kill me in a way.”

Bucky frowned at you, the memory of being told you had died replaying in his head again, and he hated it.

You reached up and smoothed the frown from his face, before kissing his forehead softly, “Of course being taken by Arcas wasn’t part of the plan, we’d initially thought we could stage a car accident or plane crash or something. But life kinda got in the way and well Arcas did too.”

“I hate that I didn’t know about this and that I wasn’t there to protect you from that,” He murmured,

“Stop, don’t do that. You did everything right, Bucky,”

“But, I could have-”

“No, you couldn’t have, because this was my decision, and mine alone, to make. In a way, I am glad things turned out the way they did because I get to leave behind that old life and start a new one, with you.”

“Yeah still doesn’t make me feel any better,” He muttered,

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” and he grimaced as he said that realizing the joke he had inadvertently made which made you burst out laughing.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the files Bucky?”

You watch his whole face change, you had been wanting to ask him about the files since you two we reunited but held off on it not wanting to ruin the moment. Bucky knew about your work, he knew what it was being used for but he never told you.

Bucky sighed, “I guess I wanted to protect you from that, I thought if I never told you and you never knew what they were doing with your work that guilt wouldn’t be on your shoulders,”

“But it was my work that made all those soldiers and I don’t know how many countless others,” You said softly, “And you shouldn’t have hidden that from me, I had a right to know.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, I just...wanted to keep you away from my world even for a little bit, and if it meant hiding that from you then I was willing to do it,”

You placed your hands on either side of his face and pulled his lips to yours, kissing him deeply.

“I love you for that but don’t ever lie to me ever again.” Your tone makes him chuckle.

Bucky smiled when you said this, his fingertips brushing against your bare shoulder. “I mean as fuckin’ crazy as your plan was, which, by the way, you could have really died, I am glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks to that serum,” You muttered and you feel him tense up beside you again.

“Are you...is...do you feel different?” Bucky asked cautiously. Neither of you had spoken about the serum that Strucker had given you and after Banner and Tony ran multiple tests on you they discovered that it had sort of enhanced your being, kind of like what had happened to Bucky and Steve in a way just with different effects.

“A little yeah, maybe stronger? But that’s neither here nor there.”

“And there was no way to reverse it?”

“We’re working on that, but for now, I’m just glad it saved my life. Funny how my life's work is the reason I almost died and I am still alive today,” You let out a quick laugh

Bucky didn’t find this funny, he frowned at you again and pulled you even closer against his body. “Not funny,” he muttered,

“Oh lighten up asshole, I can joke about it now.”

“Too soon,”

“I know but it’s okay because I am here, you are here and that’s it.”

You tilted your head up again and kissed him sweetly, Bucky sighing into the kiss. He’d never get used to kissing you, it was his new favorite thing to do. He held onto you tightly, like he had been doing since you came back to him. Too afraid to let you go for fear of losing you again but he knew in his heart that nothing would take away what he felt for you, and vice versa. He was going to hold onto you till his dying breath and even then if there was some kind of afterlife, he knew he would spend an eternity holding onto you because you made him feel whole and more alive than any other soul in the universe.

“I love you,” Bucky muttered breaking the kiss,

“I love you more, idiot.”

This made him smile.

~~~

In the months following your ‘death’, things changed drastically, more people came forward exposing Hydra. SHIELD cracked down on their operatives and began rooting out moles and other Hydra agents among them. The Avengers became the front runners in doing this, shutting down as many Hydra cells as they could.

Bucky, of course, took it a little more personally than the rest of the team, as he had a new fervor to fight with. He tried his best to stay out of the fighting as much as possible, after the last fight he’d been in had brought out more of the Soldier that he would have liked, but he still went on missions with the rest of the team.

Bucky had told you what he’d done after you were taken and both of you agreed, he’d stay out of the line of fire, it was better for everyone.

You, on the other hand, had a whole new life to start, and it began by hiding out in Bucky’s lake house, trying to figure out what you were going to do next with your company now under the control of Stark Industries, you had the financial freedom to do whatever you wanted.

“I like Germany?” You said taking a bite out of the slice of pizza in your hand, the two of you seated on the floor in the living room of his lake house which had now become your home too.

“No, I don’t have good memories of Germany,” Bucky shook his head,

“What about somewhere in Morocco?”

“Yeah, Morocco is a hard pass, the Winter Soldier has been there too many times,”

“God, is there anywhere in the world you actually like?”

“I like Italy.”

You paused for a moment, chewing thoughtfully at his suggestion. The two of you were trying to pick a destination for you to go to for a little while, to lay low at until this Hydra thing blew over. Turned out it was harder than you’d imagined, seeing as neither of you could agree on a place to go to.

“Italy is only nice in the summer,” You replied,

“No, it’s not, Italy is nice all year round,”

“Uhh, have you been there recently? Because I have, and it’s not,”

“Don’t argue with me, I am telling you, Italy is for us,”

“Oh yeah, how can you be so sure I’ll like it?”

“Because, it’s got wine and pasta and Prada, everything you love, sweetheart,”

You laughed heartily at his response, before leaning over a kissing him sweetly on the lips.

“You get me, Bucky Barnes.” You murmured smiling at him.

~~~

‘Terrorist organization rooted out in SHIELD as the Avengers shut down the organization in pursuit of the criminals behind the human experimentation's done in Queens. Doctor Werner Reinhardt, Baron Strucker, and Alexander Pierce all arrested as allegations made against them bring to light their ties to the criminal activities. Officials are now calling for Senator Sterns arrest amidst his ties to the Hydra sect. Forerunner to this whole operation is Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes whose tireless efforts have brought justice to so many nameless victims in this war-’ - NY Post

“Are you reading the New York post, again?” Bucky sighed grabbing the tablet out of your hands and tossing it onto the nearby couch,

“Yes I am, and give that back, I wasn’t done,” You grumbled reaching for it but Bucky snatched it up again and held it out of arm's length as he sat down beside you, pulling you close.

“What are you even reading?” He asked his eyes going to the heading of the article you were reading and he groaned, “Good god, don’t read this pompous trash,”

“Why not, my boyfriend’s a hero and an Avenger.” You laughed,

“Fiance and retired Avenger,” Bucky corrected you,

“Semantics,”

“No, say it,”

“No, it’s a stupid word.”

“Oh my god, don’t mock centuries of tradition, woman, I put a ring on that finger, and demand you call me your fiance!” Bucky feigned offense as he tossed the tablet onto the coffee table and pounced on you pinning your hands over your head, pushing you down onto the couch.

“No, you giant moron, nothing about you and I are traditional,” You laughed as he assaulted your neck with kisses. Bucky let go of your hands and nudged your legs open, settling above you with a grin on his face.

“I missed you,” He said softly completely changing the tone of the mood, he leaned in and kissed you, softly.

“I missed you more,” You said, pulling him in for another kiss,

“So are you all set for our sabbatical?” He asked, pulling away and sitting up,

“Yeah, can’t wait to stop hiding out here and actually go on a real date with you,”

“I’ll take you on all the dates, the moment we get there,” Bucky grinned at you,

“That makes no sense,”

“I know,”

“You’re so stupid,”

“But you love me.”

And oh how you did love him.

~~~

The sun was setting over the beautiful horizon, it casts a warm glow across the apartment kitchen. Sun streaks dancing across the terracotta rooftops in Florence, a soft breeze making the silky curtains flutter with them. You stood on the balcony holding a glass of wine in your hand, gently twirling the stem in your hand and watching the sunset.

You hear soft footsteps behind you moments before you feel Bucky slip his arms around your shoulders and draw your back flush to him. His muscular naked torso hot against your body.

“There you are,” He murmured against the skin on your neck before placing a kiss on your bare shoulder,

“Thought you were still asleep,” You said reaching up behind you and carting your fingers through his hair, he needed a hair cut.

“I was but you weren’t there and you know I can’t sleep without you,”

You smiled at this comment, two years later and he was still so god damn needy. You loved it.

“You’re such a needy little bitch,” You laughed softly and this earned you a little nip on your neck from Bucky.

“It’s called love, you hussy.”

You laughed again and twisted around in his arms to face him. You placed the wine glass down on the table next to you and reached up linking your arms around his neck. God, he looked so fucking perfect in the setting sunlight,

“Why are you so pretty?” You sighed leaning into him and placing a kiss on his neck,

“What kind of question is that?” Bucky chuckled tightening his arms around your waist as you trailed a line of kisses across his neck and jaw,

“You’re supposed to say I am pretty too, Bucky,”

“You’re pretty too, sweetheart.” He laughed, a moment before his lips found yours and he kisses you with fervor. The way his hands slid down your body, over your ass and to the back of your thighs before he lifted you into his arms told you where this was going and you weren’t about to complain.

~~~

It was well into the evening when the two of you collapsed tiredly onto the soft sheets beside each other, breathless and satisfied. The pale moonlight drifted across the room, casting a pale glow through it.

It was a perfectly starry night outside, and the weather was perfect. In fact, every day since the two of you had gotten here was perfect. There wasn’t a moment that you weren’t at absolute peace here.

After traveling around for a bit with Bucky to the Bahamas, Mexico and half of the Asia's, you’d both decided on Italy for an extended sabbatical. It was the perfect place for both of you considering how much you loved the food and wine and, well, Bucky just agreed with you because it was where he wanted to go the most.

It had been the most amazing year of your life, being with Bucky and traveling the world. He retired as an Avenger but still, on occasion, helped out his friends with missions when they asked nicely. But otherwise, he left that Avenging life behind, and the two of you lost yourselves to each other, traveling. It kind of became a history lesson with you every time you visited a new place and Bucky told you something new about it, or when he was here as the Winter Soldier. Things he remembered or had done. He was open and honest with you and it was everything you could have asked for.

A year since your ‘death’, Bucky asked you to marry him as the two of you stood in the Louvre beneath the starry night sky and you were at a loss for words. It had been the longest time since anything had felt normal for the two of you and at that moment you realized both of you wanted more than to keep traveling and moving around.

So you decided on Italy, Florence to be specific, the one place both of you could agree on wholeheartedly, and it turned out to be the best decision you’d ever made. A wedding in Florence with the few people that mattered to both of you and those who knew you were alive of course, Steve, Sam, Tony, Natasha among the guests and then it became your home.

You missed New York City, as you’d spent your whole life there. Bucky said maybe one day when all this was over, the two of you could go back, but as soon as you found a home in Florence you forgot all about New York and it suddenly felt like the home the two of you always needed.

And tonight, on the anniversary of your living here, you couldn’t have thought of a better place to be. The two of you now stood on the balcony enjoying the quiet of the night and each other’s embrace, taking in the beauty of the city below.

“You were right, Italy is great any time of the year,” You murmured kissing his forehead,

“I’m always right,” Was all Bucky said, and you could almost hear the smirk in his voice at that moment. You laughed softly and intertwined your fingers with him, the gold band on your finger glinting in the soft moonlight.

“Okay, calm down there, you’re right like forty percent of the time,” You snorted,

“Let’s not have this argument again or I will have to bring up Acra,”

“You wouldn’t dare!” You gasped feigning shock and Bucky laughed.

“Oh, I would, believe me, I would.”

You were about to reply when the soft sound of a cry came through the little black monitor you’d set on the table nearby. Both of you sighed, and Bucky moved first.

“I’ll get her,” He said giving you a quick kiss before he made his way back inside and you can’t help but grin at his retreating figure. You still couldn’t believe just how much your life had changed since meeting Bucky, from hating him with every fiber of your being, to loving him more than you could ever love someone. Of course, you had Nick Fury to thank for all this, and you laughed at the thought of thanking Nick Fury for allowing Bucky into your life because god how you loved, adored and cherished James Buchanan Barnes.

#Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky x reader #Bodyguard!Bucky #Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #Bucky #Bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes series #Bucky barnes imagine #marvel au #bucky barnes au #bodyguard!au #Bodyguard fic

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whitebear-ofthe-watertribe · 4 years

Text

That Which Holds Us - Chapter 11

Pairing(s): Adrien / Marinette, Nino / Alya

Summary: It has been several months since Ladybug and Chat Noir discovered their true identities. Now that they are not trapped by secrets, they can finally be their full selves around each other and have never been closer. Marinette is going into her final year at university, Adrien is exploring new classes and passions, and their friends Alya and Nino seem to be moving towards a happy future together. It all feels like things could not be better.

But of course, nothing in life is quite so perfect.

When Adrien starts having vivid nightmares and visions about his mother, old questions begin to resurface. Will he be able to find the answers, or will these ghosts from the past tear apart the heroes of Paris for good?

Reminder, you can also read / follow this fic at AO3 here, and FF.net here.

Previous Chapters

Chapter Word Count: 8,101

Enjoy!!!

A brand new dawn was peaking above the rocky mountains surrounding the city of Lhasa. Waves of gold gradually brushed through the valley, glinting off the many windows and giving the buildings a shimmering quality. As the sun slowly rose, it was not long before the light found its way to the far outskirts of the populace and into the windows of the Hostel Padme.

Adrien’s eyes opened slowly, blearily taking in the small room. Tiny dust particles sparkled through the air above him, swirling lazily as the sun slipped through the gaps between the curtains and inched imperceptibly across the intricate woven tapestries along the walls.

It took him a moment to fully understand where he was, his mind feeling sluggish from exhaustion. With a weary sigh, he brought his arm up and laid it across his face, blocking out the light that felt a bit too harsh for his sore eyes.

The little sleep he had gotten had been restless, his mother’s voice drifting in and out of his subconscious, never truly letting him sleep as she begged him to save her. Although he had to admit, it had been the first night in ages that his nightmares had not griped his heart in terror. Or at the very least, he had not awoken screaming. He supposed he must attribute this small breakthrough to Marinette.

‘Marinette…’

Moving his arm to uncover his face again, he turned to look upon her sleeping form. She had her head resting on his shoulder, her usually silky hair a tangled mess as it fanned across their shared pillow. One of her arms was wrapped gently around him, the other tucked tightly beneath her. The bed was so tiny that she had become wedged snuggly between himself and the wall, their legs tangled beneath the warm blankets. Soft, thin rays of sunlight fell upon her pale skin.

Like waves cresting over a sandy shore, the previous night came rolling into the forefront of his thoughts. A warm glow swelled in his chest. He could not even begin to put into words how utterly grateful he was for her. His fears were still present, but with her nearby, their usually piercing stabs were dulled somewhat. He had been so wrapped up in trying to keep his burdens off her shoulders in the recent weeks that he had truly forgotten the comforting, peaceful effect she had over him.

Her arm moved against him, brushing across his chest as she tucked it closer to herself, her hand curling delicately under her chin.

Adrien caught the silver flash of his ring on her thumb, and his brow creased.

As they had traveled halfway across the world in the last day, they had spent more uninterrupted time together than they had since school had started. The difference it made on his mind was astounding. Being in her presence, he felt that he was able to think objectively for the first time in weeks, fears caused by residual dark magic be damned. Could he actually take his Miraculous back?

Should he?

Nearly every fiber of his being screamed a resounding yes. After all, Marinette and the Kwamis had made convincing arguments in favor of his re-donning the mantle of Chat Noir. It was as much sealed into his identity as any other part of himself. Had it not been he that Master Fu chose all those years ago? He who had dedicated so much of his life to using that power for good? Had he not saved countless lives with the help of Plagg and that Miraculous?

And had Plagg himself not resolutely supported him, spending those long years by his side?

But of course, there was still that part of him—gently silenced in Marinette’s calming presence, but still there all the same—that could not stop replaying what he had done to that little boy.

Marinette had successfully convinced him that he was not a danger to those around him. Or rather, she had shown him that as Adrien he would not hurt anyone. But what about Chat Noir? Was there not still a chance that Chat Noir could bring harm to innocent people because of his hallucinations?

Adrien spent a while deliberating, taking advantage of his finally clear head to look at the matter from every angle, and after a while his thoughts turned to the journey they still had ahead of them. None of them knew what answers—if any—lay at the end of it. He still could not bring himself to fully consider the idea of his father working with their sworn enemy. Sure, he was cold and distant; they had grown further and further apart ever since his mother disappeared. But… a villain?

‘No,’ he thought vehemently, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. There had to be some other explanation, some other reason as to why the Peafowl Miraculous was in his father’s safe.

He opened his eyes again, sighing.

It was decided, then. He would resolutely not decide anything around taking his Miraculous back until they had had the opportunity to speak with this mysterious Kunchen. If anyone had the answers, it had to be her.

For another few minutes, Adrien gazed at Marinette thoughtfully, watching her shoulders slowly rise and fall with each breath. Her dark lashes fanned across her soft, pink cheeks, and he reached a hand out to gently run his thumb over her velvet lips.

Cupping his hand gently around the back of her neck, he leaned forward and carefully placed his lips against hers.

Marinette let out a gentle hum, and her ocean eyes opened to meet his as he pulled away. She offered him a small smile, which he returned after a moment.

“How did you sleep?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugged.

“Same as usual.”

“So… hardly at all?”

“I think I got a few hours in, then dozed on and off for a while,” he sighed, combing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “It’s fine, I’m used to it.”

“You can’t keep going on like this,” Marinette frowned, but there was a helplessness behind her expression.

“I know…” he murmured, unable to think of anything else to say.

Marinette blinked slowly up at him as he continued to run his fingers through her hair.

In that moment, Adrien honestly wanted nothing more than to stay curled up with her, forgetting the world and leaving its troubles outside. But they did not have that luxury.

With a grimace of resignation, he finally pulled away from her and sat up. Climbing out of the small bed, he shivered. The air beyond the warmth of the covers was chilly, and involuntary goosebumps rose across his exposed skin. He dressed quickly, donning his clothes from the previous day, before opening the door and crossing the hall to retrieve Marinette’s pack.

The Kwamis were sitting on top of Marinette’s unused bed. They had clearly gone searching through the backpack’s pockets for food, because both were munching on a small breakfast of cheese cubes and mini cookies.

When Adrien stepped into the room, they looked soberly up at him. Tikki offered a soft “Good morning, Adrien,” but Plagg’s eyes were drawn to Adrien’s hand, where there was an obvious lack of ring. His ears drooped a little.

“Good morning,” Adrien said, guilt flooding through him. “We should be going soon.”

They floated after him, still nibbling on their food, as he carried the pack across the hall and into the other room.

Marinette was sitting up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She had cocooned the blankets into a pile around herself.

“It’s so cold here,” she grumbled. “I feel like my nose is about to fall off.”

“Did you pack warmly?” Adrien asked, putting her stuff beside his own.

“She did, we made sure of it!” Tikki said with a smile, alighting on top of one of the bed posts and downing the remainder of her cookie.

Leaning forward, Adrien gave Marinette’s nose a kiss. It did feel rather icy against his lips.

“Oohh do that again, you’re warm.”

She leaned forward eagerly.

He let out a soft laugh. “You’ll get more kisses when you get dressed. C’mon, I’m sure Rabten will be waiting for us.”

Marinette bobbed her head in agreement before moving off the bed to retrieve her clothes. She pulled the blankets with her, keeping them tented over her shoulders in a futile attempt to maintain some of the warmth as she got dressed.

Adrien couldn’t help but smile at her. It felt strange to smile now when, just yesterday, he had felt like his world was imploding into darkness around him. But Marinette always had a positive effect on him, and he wasn’t about to reject any amount of newly-regained joy.

As he wrapped his old blue scarf around his neck, Marinette finally turned to look at him, removing the blankets to reveal that she too had dressed in her previous day’s clothes. Of course, she had also added a couple new layers of socks.

“Did you two sleep alright?” she asked the Kwamis as she sat back down on the bed again to lace up her boots.

“Mhmm,” Tikki nodded. “Well enough.”

“It’s a little too cold here for my liking,” Plagg said, wrapping his tail tightly around himself to prove his point.

“Maybe being out in the sun today will help warm things up,” Adrien offered.

Plagg shrugged. “Doubtful. I’ll be lucky to have my ears at the end of this trip if they haven’t frozen off.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Marinette said, standing again to tuck her hair into a messy bun and pulling a warm knit beanie over it.

Tikki flew over and nuzzled into the hat to sit on top of Marinette’s head.

Adrien turned away to make sure that his bag was properly closed up, trying to ignore the hurt that filled his chest. He knew that Plagg was going to join Tikki and stay close to Marinette. After all, it was the most practical thing to do while she held the ring. And it wasn’t like he expected Plagg to forgive him anytime soon. Somehow, he was just going to have to get used to—

Something small thumped into his shoulder, making Adrien jump. Looking down, he was shocked to see Plagg burrowing himself into the folds of his scarf.

“You could’ve chosen something softer,” he complained. “This one’s all old and itchy!”

Adrien stared at him, floored.

Plagg looked back at him before offering a small smile.

Adrien—trying to get control of the overwhelming waves of affection now flooding through him—smiled back.

“Well, you were the one who was complaining about how cold your ears were just now,” he said as Plagg disappeared into the folds of fabric. “And this is the warmest I had.”

“Sounds like that’s a perfect excuse to get someone to make you a new scarf,” Plagg’s muffled voice came from the left side of his neck.

Looking up, he caught Marinette’s eye as she grinned understandingly from the door.

Gathering their bags, they left the room. The winding narrow halls were noisier than the previous night, as fellow travelers were beginning to wake up.

Rabten was lounging behind the counter with his feet stretched out on a chair, chatting animatedly with a young woman. They looked around when they heard Adrien and Marinette approaching.

“Good morning, heroes!” he said cheerily. “I am surprised you are up this early. I was expecting you to be another hour or two, at least.”

Adrien shrugged. “As nice as that would have been, I think it’s best that we keep moving towards what we came here for.”

Rabten nodded.

“Is there any chance we can pick up some food on our way?” Marinette inquired. “It’s been a while since either of us ate, and I doubt we could get very far today on an empty stomach.”

Grinning, Rabten lifted a sack that had been sitting at his feet.

“I have everything you might need here,” he said. “You can have your breakfast on our drive, and there will be plenty for lunch and snacks on the way. I’m sure I’ll be able to bully Kunchen into making some of her famous momo for you tonight.”

“So we’ll be at her place within the day?” Marinette raised her eyebrows in surprise.

Adrien imagined she hadn’t been entirely sure what to expect on this journey; everything had happened so fast.

“Certainly!” Rabten nodded. “Though there will be quite a bit of on-foot travel involved. Kunchen likes to stay fairly remote, so we can only drive so far before vehicles can’t traverse the paths.” He paused thoughtfully, then smiled again. “But I’m sure the two of you are strong enough to handle it!”

Adrien exchanged a shrug with Marinette. After having spent most of their free time parkouring through their city and fighting monsters since the age of fourteen, they were likely in the best shape of anyone they knew.

Rabten gestured for them to go and wait for him outside.

“I’ll be along in a moment! I just want to be sure everything is squared away here.”

The two of them made their way through the hostel’s front door and saw the city of Lhasa in the shining light of dawn for the first time.

Adrien stopped short on the front step, his breath catching in his chest.

The sky had never felt so incredibly, inconceivably vast. Towering clouds divided the deep blue expanse, scattering the shafts of bright light that spilled between distant patches of rain showers. The horizon stretched out before them, rolling in great earthen waves before the jagged teeth of mountains broke through the smooth hills, their rough peaks disappearing into the heavens.

Lhasa glimmered in the golden light, with countless houses and buildings stacking up atop each other throughout the valley. Distant sounds of people and traffic echoed as the city awoke.

“Beautiful, is it not?” Rabten’s voice came from behind them.

Adrien turned around to see him grinning from the doorway, a second pack of his own slung across one shoulder.

“I was blessed to visit many different places in my years,” he continued. “But nowhere calls to me as much as my hometown.”

Adrien looked at Marinette and saw her smiling up at him from beside the truck. His throat constricted for the briefest of moments before he cleared it and nodded.

“I think I know just what you mean,” he said to Rabten, before ducking his head. He strode forward to place his bag in the truck’s bed. Wordlessly, he took Marinette’s from her shoulders and secured it as well.

The grin she gave him in thanks made his heart beat a little faster.

Rabten drove them back through the city, which looked entirely different in the light of day. While they munched on dried mutton and wheat cakes with yak butter, he continued his informal tour from the night before.

There was a whole new life to the city that had not been apparent in the cover of darkness. Now, people were emerging from all over the place to start their day. For as many cars as there were, they saw easily twice as many people on bikes. Breathtaking architecture lay around every corner, so very different from anything Adrien was used to seeing. While Paris had its own history, there was an ancient and monumental quality within these surroundings which he could not put into words.

It took some time for them to reach the other side of the city. As the buildings fell behind them, they found their surroundings opening to vast countryside, broken up by the rolling hills that grew in every direction.

“We will drive as far as we can,” said Rabten, twiddling the steering wheel to pass around a slower car headed in the same direction. “But we’ll still have several miles of hiking to do once we reach the more mountainous terrain. Have either of you done much?”

Adrien shrugged.

“I’ve done a bit. I was in America for a while a few months ago and we summited a few fourteeners for an ad campaign. But no, we’re not usually in places to go hiking.”

“I’m sure you both will do just fine,” Rabten said confidently.

Adrien caught an uncomfortable look on Marinette’s face, and was forcibly reminded of how much she’d tried to work through her dislike of roughing it when they had gone backpacking with Alya and Nino.

He reached over to take her hand, and she shot him a timid smile.

“Yeah,” she murmured, looking back out the window to the road and mountains before them. “Yeah, we’ll be fine.”

*******

Carapace took one last running leap between buildings before coming to a stop to survey the city sprawled out before him. It had been a long time since he’d been able to see this view while enjoying the incredible feeling that came from wielding his Miraculous.

Rena Rouge halted beside him, perching gracefully on the narrow ledge of a high chimney.

He glanced at her, his grin broadening as he caught her expression. Her eyes were bright, and the smile that played on her face was exuberant. He knew that she had missed this even more than he had.

“You know,” she said, coming over beside him and taking a seat with her legs hanging over the building’s edge, “I know we’re all worried about our friends and whatever dangerous things they’re probably going through, but I’m finding it really hard to not be pumped about being out here again like this.”

Carapace shifted closer to her, taking a seat as well.

“You’ve been wanting this for a really long time, you’re allowed to feel happy that it finally happened again.”

Rena Rouge shot a smile up at him before letting it fall a little. Turning back to gaze out across the rooftops, she leaned forward and propped an elbow on her knee, her chin resting atop her fist.

“I still can’t believe they never told us the truth,” she said quietly.

He could hear the hurt in her voice that she tried to mask.

“You know they had good reasons for what they did or didn’t do.”

“I know, but it’s us!” she exclaimed, her tone slipping into a whine. “We’re their best friends, how could they not have told us?”

“Well,” Carapace said cautiously, “you are the single most invested reporter when it comes to everything to do with Ladybug and Chat Noir… you spent years working to dig up all the information you could on them and their Miraculous, and certainly spent no small amount of time trying to figure out who they were.”

Rena Rouge straightened up to glower at him.

“Excuse me?” she growled, her hands balling into fists. “Are you saying that they didn’t tell us because they couldn’t trust me?”

“No,” he responded firmly. “I’m not saying you’re untrustworthy. I am saying that they have been in a complicated situation for years now, and that their decisions were based out of a desire to keep us all as safe as possible. I’m saying that when you look at the timeline, they got the weight of the world placed on their shoulders when we were all way too young. And be realistic, if your best friend told you that she was Ladybug, wouldn’t it have been crushing to have to keep that from your hundreds of thousands of readers?”

Rena Rouge stared at him as he spoke, her mouth gaping like a fish out of water before she finally spluttered, “I would never have breathed a word! I can’t believe that you’re saying this, you think I would have put the curiosity of thousands of strangers over the safety and privacy of two of the most important people in the world to me?!”

“Put yourself in their shoes!” Carapace replied, exasperated. “You know every choice, every secret at that age, feels a thousand times bigger than it actually is. Now imagine you are put in the same position, as a child, where reveling your deepest secret could put you, your partner, your family, everyone you loved, in jeopardy. Would you have told us who you were?”

“YES!” Rena cried, jumping to her feet, the anger rolling off her in waves.

“Would you?!” Carapace demanded, rising as well.

Rena Rouge opened her mouth to retort, but said nothing, her breath coming out in angry huffs. Her eyes shone bright with unshed tears. Finally, she crossed her arms and growled, “I… I would have told you… eventually.”

Carapace’s expression softened.

“You and I are two of the very few people who could possibly have even the slightest idea of what they’ve been through. But I think we both know that we really can’t even begin to comprehend the isolating sacrifices that both Marinette and Adrien have had to deal with all these years. And if they decided that the best thing to do for themselves and the rest of us was to keep us in the dark, then we need to respect that. Plus, getting angry about it now doesn’t mean that all those years didn’t happen.”

Jaw set defiantly, Rena Rouge looked up at him.

“It still hurts, though,” she said after a long moment.

“I know,” he said, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her into a hug, despite her continued rigid stance. “And you’re allowed to be upset, but you’ll need to find a way to be ok with it somehow.”

Slowly, Rena Rouge loosened her shoulders and leaned her head into his chest.

A slow, condescending clap echoed from one of the rooftop’s alcoves several yards away.

“Well, well, well. Isn’t this touching,” came a mocking voice.

Pulling away from Rena Rouge, Carapace whipped out his shield and brandished it in the direction he thought the voice had come from, his stance widening defensively to cover his partner.

Behind him, Rena stiffened into a half crouch, her flute held at the ready and her teeth bared.

“So, the city’s beloved super-brats decided they need a helping hand, huh? And here I was, all excited over nothing when I saw two masked vigilantes hopping around town.”

Carapace turned, trying to pinpoint the voice’s location. It echoed strangely around them, seeming to come from one place, then another and another until he felt like it was closing in from all directions.

“So sorry to hear you think we’re not up to your superhero standards,” he said, forcing his own voice to remain steady.

“Oh please, Donatello, you weren’t cool in the 90’s and you’re not cool now.”

The voice let out a laugh that raised the hairs on the back of Carapace’s neck.

He’d heard that laugh before.

“And who are you, exactly?” Rena Rouge called, her tone laced with venom as she turned to press her back against her partner’s, also trying to pinpoint their invisible adversary. “Some nameless villain who’s too scared to show his face?”

“You’re not as sly as you think, little foxy. No one needs the nonsense of a B-grade hero and her knock-off ninja turtle.”

“If we’re such throwaway competition,” said Carapace, slowly rotating both himself and Rena Rouge in a circle to get a full view of the area, “why not come and deal with us yourself? Get us out of the way so you don’t have to worry about us messing things up for you with our incompetence.”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

The voice finally centered on a spot just to Carapace’s right. Without even taking the time to think, he spun. The shield on his arm activated just in time to block the glowing metallic strings from latching themselves to his partner.

“Oh-ho! Little turtle knows how to play!” the Puppet Master cackled gleefully, retracting his marionette strings to pool at his feet.

Carapace had been expecting it, but seeing the Akuma that had nearly killed one of his best friends still made his blood run cold.

“You!” Rena Rouge gasped, the horror in her voice mirroring Carapace’s own.

“ME!” Puppet Master’s gleeful cackle echoed around the rooftop, as though twenty of him were laughing at once. His face was shiny and distorted, like a sadistic doll come to life. Grotesquely dilated pupils glittered maliciously out of his eyes, which were rounded like coins, and his smile was stretched stiff, with lines running down his chin to mimic a ventriloquist dummy.

The Akuma’s outfit was much the same as it had had been the first night he’d appeared at Marinette’s Gala, but with a few alterations; instead of the violet paisley shirt and brown slacks with suspenders, he now wore blacks and smokey greys. A cape—embroidered with intricate patterns that glowed like embers—was slung off one shoulder, and the bowtie at his neck smoldered to match. The marionette strings, which hung from the control paddles in each of his hands, now burned red hot instead of electric blue.

“You’ll pay for what you did, you monster!” Rena Rouge shrieked, and Carapace moved to make sure she was still fully covered by his shield.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re on about,” the Puppet Master said, raising his eyebrows innocently. “I’m sure I’ve never done anything to warrant such hostility. Aren’t Akumas the victims these days?”

“Have you forgotten that girl you put in the hospital?!” Rena Rouge demanded. “The girl who you almost murdered? She nearly died because of you, Mathis!”

“Ah yes, Marinette,” the Puppet Master rolled his unsettling eyes, all trace of his virtuous act disappearing in an instant. “I’m still upset about that. I can’t believe she recovered after all the effort I put into that attack. Although I must say, I was really looking forward to finding an opportunity to throw her under the bus this semester.”

Carapace glared through the shimmering green barrier between them.

“You were planning to go after her again?! Man, what’s wrong with you? Why do you get so much pleasure from going after Marinette like that?”

“She’s talented,” the Akuma shrugged, casually starting to stroll to the right, circling them in a wide arc. “She caught the eyes of too many important people. And while I admit that in the beginning it was just fun to knock her off her little pedestal from time to time, she crossed a line when she stole that win from me at last year’s Gala.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Rena Rouge scoffed. “Marinette put that collection together in two weeks! If your collection lost then that’s on you, not her. Jeez, I knew you were a prick but who knew you’d be such a sore looser that you’d try to take vengeance on her after all this time.”

“Mm, victim blaming,” the Puppet Master sighed melodramatically, observing his nailbeds without much interest as he continued to slowly circle them. “Not a good look for superhero. Remember, I’m the one who was hurt so bad that night that my emotions got taken advantage of! Isn’t that just so sad?”

He flashed them a tragic look, his lower lip pouting sardonically.

“Well if you’re still so torn up about it, why don’t we talk it out?” Carapace suggested without much conviction. “Clearly if you were Akumatized all over again you need to vent your feelings, right? How about instead of going on a vengeful tirade, you ditch the Akuma and we have a nice little heart to heart, huh?”

“Oh! You think this is all pent-up emotion?” the Puppet Master laughed, throwing his head back. “No, no, this time was all me! I really got a good taste of power when Hawkmoth reached out to me last time, so imagine how pleased I was to see another little black butterfly come to pay me a second visit!”

“You… wanted to be Akumatized?” Carapace asked, trying to wrap his mind around that.

“Yup, ‘fraid so! Now, enough chit chat about the then, let’s talk about the now! As in where is Marinette? I’d have thought Little Miss Goody Two-Shoes would have shown up with her mangy stray by now. Superheroes are always gnawing at the bit to come take out the bad guys, right?”

It took a moment for the Puppet Master’s words to fully sink in. Carapace frowned as they played through his mind again.

“Wait!” he called, unease twisting his stomach. “Are we still talking about Marinette? Because it sounds like you’ve switched to Ladybug.”

“HA! She’d love to have everyone believe they’re two different people, wouldn’t she?” The Puppet Master began skipping around them, and Carapace side-stepped with him, never letting down his guard nor allowing the monster a clear shot. “She’s obviously done well to hide it for so long, I’ll give her that. But nobody’s perfect, especially not her, and everyone is bound to slip up when they’re… upset.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Rena Rouge snapped, tightening the grip on her flute, which she was brandishing like a baseball bat.

“Oh c’mon, you’re not telling me she’s too busy, or something? I’m not a big fan of being made to wait, you know! Where is everyone’s favorite little designer, hm? I think it’s time she and I had a little tête-à-tête,” the Puppet Master’s voice lost some of its mocking sing-song and turned into a menacing growl as he stopped skipping. “Where’s Paris’ Lady Dumb-Luck? The Coccinelle of Cockiness? The oh-so loved Vigilante of Lame? Where is Marinette Dupain-Cheng and her… well I don’t really care who the hell that cat is, but I’ll still enjoy kicking his ass in Round Two.”

Carapace felt the knot of horror growing in the pit of his stomach as he came to terms with what the Akuma was going on about.

‘He knows Marinette is Ladybug,’ his mind screamed.

And if the Akuma knew, then Hawkmoth most certainly knew as well, and that meant no one in Marinette’s life would ever be safe again.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but Ladybug won’t be joining us this evening,” Rena Rouge spat. “She and Chat Noir have better things to do than mop the floor with your disgusting doll face.”

In spite of her menacing tone, Carapace heard the note of fear in her words. He knew she’d come to the same realizations he had.

“Guess you’re just going to have to settle for being beaten by us ‘B-grade superheroes,’ huh?” he said, retightening his grip on the shield.

Behind him, he felt Rena Rouge shift her stance, ready to charge.

“You’re right, that is disappointing,” the Puppet Master sighed, looking down at his hands. He twiddled the control paddles thoughtfully between his fingers. “But I suppose this will at least make things more… interesting.”

The lethal looking marionette strings glowed from burning red to white hot as he looked back up at them, his smile growing even wider.

“Alrighty, little heroes! Let’s play.”

*******

The gravel crunched loudly underneath Adrien’s boots as he labored to placed one foot in front of the other. A biting wind whistled through the valley, whipping his hair into his eyes and causing his ears to ache. His breathing was shallow, each intake bringing a sharp pang from the stitch in his side.

They had been traveling on foot for the entire afternoon, having left the truck a bit before midday. They’d experienced first-hand what true off-roading really was when Rabten had picked his way over terrain that Adrien was still convinced no vehicle was meant to traverse. Eventually, the jagged rocks and steep grade had become too much for even his trusty little truck to handle, and they had been forced to leave it in a clearing several miles back.

Now, the sun’s unusually bright light had begun to shift the shadows of the rocks and small brush trees that they wove between, picking their way over the fourth mountainous ridge of the day. The path they walked was hardly discernable. Adrien was certain that if it were up to him and Marinette to find their own way, they would have gotten lost a long time ago.

Rabten was several yards ahead of him, traversing his way along the narrow rocky path to the summit of a low peak.

“Not much farther!” he called, glancing over his shoulder with a toothy grin, as if amused that the two youngest and fittest people of their trio couldn’t keep up with him.

The hiking was unlike anything Adrien had ever done before. He had thought climbing the fourteeners in Colorado had been an impressive feat, but that was nothing to the altitude they were experiencing now. Each lungful was a struggle, and never truly satisfying. His movements were slow, and he had to forcibly remind himself of his hope for answers at the end of this path in order to keep going. He had realized an hour or two earlier that were it not for the heightened strength and stamina granted by holding a Miraculous for so long, he very well might not have been able to make this journey without spending weeks acclimating beforehand.

At a bend in the path, he paused to look back down the steep slope to where Marinette was bringing up the rear.

Her eyes were glazed, and her cheeks were deeply flushed as she trudged forward. She had pulled her hat low over her ears and wrapped a spare shirt around her neck as a makeshift scarf, covering her nose against the harsh winds. Even above the air’s hollow moans, he could hear her wheezing with each step.

Adrien knew that she was well out of her element. If camping that summer hadn’t been enough of an example, he had been convinced that the grueling trek through these mountains would certainly have proven that point by now. But as exhausted as he knew she was, Marinette had not uttered a single word of complaint. Even as she slowly came level with the rock he had paused on, she focused her gaze on him and raised her hands in a weak double-thumbs up before bringing them to her knees as she doubled over with a wet sounding cough.

“You okay?” he asked, frowning and putting a hand on her back.

She nodded, straightening up and uncovering her mouth to drag in a lungful of air.

“Doin’ great,” she said hollowly, gasping in deep breaths. “Just enjoying the view.”

“We can rest again if you need—”

“No,” Marinette cut him off. “We’re not stopping on my account. I just—just needed to catch my breath for a sec.”

“Mar…” Adrien began again, his frown deepening. “I don’t want you pushing yourself to breaking—”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, one side of her mouth quirking into a wan smile. “I’m more worried about you than about me. How are you holding up?”

Adrien shrugged, too drained to refute her subject change.

“I’m surviving.”

“We’ll hopefully you can keep surviving just a bit longer,” came Rabten’s voice from above them. They looked up to see the old man’s cheerful face peeking out from over the top of the ridge. He gave them an encouraging wave. “C’mon, now! I wasn’t lying when I said we don’t have much farther to go—our destination is near!”

Adrien and Marinette exchanged a silent look before nodding briefly and turning back to the path.

Marinette took the lead this time, reaching out to give his hand a quick squeeze of encouragement as she passed.

Adrien smiled, grateful that her bullheadedness had brought her on this journey with him.

Slowly, they crested the summit to stand beside Rabten, who stood with his hands on his hips and a crooked smile on his face as he surveyed the view before them.

Marinette clumsily sat upon a large rock, fishing a water out of her pack as Tikki peaked out of the cozy perch under her hat.

Adrien crouched beside her, using one of her knees as support. His heart was pounding in his ears, and a low headache was pulsing through his temples.

“You both must drink more water,” Rabten said, watching him. “It does not matter how strong you are, altitude is something no one can conquer by sheer will. Water will help, though. And we do not have far to go, look!”

He pointed to the far end of the valley that lay below. A flat plateau was nestled between the foothills of two steep peaks.

Adrien followed his gesture and squinted, trying to get his eyes to focus. There seemed to be a strange smudge on the land before them. Even with his heightened vision, he couldn’t quite make out what he was looking at. It seemed to be a kaleidoscopic swirl of colors, as if a giant had dropped an entire paint palette on the floor of the world.

He squeezed his eyes shut, convinced that this must be some kind of weird hallucination brought on by lack of oxygen.

“How much farther?” Marinette asked, taking hold of Adrien’s hand and gently pressing her water bottle into it.

He opened one eye and shot her a grateful nod before tilting his head back to take a long gulp.

“We should be there within the hour,” Rabten said. “I’m estimating that our pace will bring us to Kunchen’s doorstep just before nightfall.”

“Well,” Marinette sighed, her breathing still labored, “no use sitting around here, then.” She stood, and locked her hands around Adrien’s wrists, pulling him to his feet as well. “C’mon. Last one to the Sifu’s house is… well, still someone who hiked a whole lot with impossibly low oxygen, so that’s something I guess.”

Adrien snorted, shooting her a look.

Marinette smirked before pulling her shirt-scarf back up over her nose and following Rabten down the hillside, the dirt and gravel sliding beneath her boots.

They moved on, Adrien’s footfalls creating a slow rhythmic pulse in his own head. It was as if so much of his energy was being generated towards taking one step after another that even the rhythm of his thoughts were aligning themselves with the motion.

As they grew closer to the smudge Rabten had pointed out to them, Adrien thought something must be wrong with his eyes—his vision must surely be going funny, for the plateau was still practically glowing with vivid color. He blinked hard, trying to figure out just what he was looking at, when suddenly it clicked.

Flowers.

Thousands upon thousands of flowers covered every square foot of the valley before them. Flowers in rainbow hues of every color imaginable, with large bursts of bright green foliage springing up every so often.

The wind still clawed at them as they traversed the last few hillocks, but as they came to the outer edge where the tiniest of flora grew, the air stilled to a whispering breeze. A tingle washed over Adrien’s skin as humid air enveloped them; it was like they had crossed through some invisible barrier that kept the cold at bay.

Beside him, Marinette removed the cloths covering her ears and mouth. They both breathed in great lungfuls of air, feeling as if they were back near sea-level again.

Plagg and Tikki emerged from their shelters to float up into the air, taking everything in.

Rabten led them a short way around the edge of the flower field before coming upon a small but well-kept path made up of small white stones, each looking smooth enough to have come from the sea. Most of the plants growing on either side of the path were some variety of wildflower, but every so often they would pass something that looked much more exotic, like it belonged in a tropical jungle rather than in the mountains of Tibet.

Adrien’s mouth hung open as he took it all in. There was no possible way that this valley existed without some support from something magical. The air was too comfortable compared to the bitter cold they had been trekking through. Too many of the plants surrounding them absolutely should not have been able to grow in this climate, and the vastness of the valley certainly could not have been tended by one person alone without the influence of something beyond normal human abilities.

A small movement out of the corner of Adrien’s eye caught his attention. Looking around, he saw a pair of pale white butterflies rise up from the foliage several yards away. They spun and twirled around each other as they floated through the air, keeping a few feet of distance between themselves and the valley’s invisible barrier.

“This is incredible,” Marinette finally said as they continued along the stone path, turning her head to watch as a plump little honeybee hummed from flower to flower. “How can all of this thrive so well here?”

“Sifu Kunchen has always had a knack for growing things,” Rabten said, shooting her a smile over his shoulder. “She’s been cultivating her garden for quite some time, now.”

“There’s so much life here,” Marinette said, watching in wonder as an entire swarm of butterflies lifted up into the air before them, the evening sun shimmering off their delicate wings.

Tikki soared forward to examine some of the flowers up close, playfully bouncing on a few large blossoms and releasing little clouds of pollen into the air as she went.

Plagg gave a great yawn and settled onto Adrien’s shoulder.

“It’s alright I suppose,” he said casually, “but it’s no artisan cheese spread.”

The stone path curved gently over a low hillock. As they traversed around to the other side, a small cottage came into view just below them.

The house was nestled against an outcropping of tall boulders that created a natural wall against the hillock. Fluffy pine trees stood proud and protective around the vine-strewn fence that circled the property. To the house’s east was an enclosed garden overflowing with vegetables. Bordering the garden’s fence was a brightly painted chicken coop, and a dozen raised apiaries were silhouetted in the distance. A small brown goat stood beside the gate that ran across the stone path. It eyed the three of them indifferently before simply turning to chomp up another large mouthful of sweetgrass. Several plump hens pecked their way along the path which led right to the house’s blue front door.

The house itself crouched low amidst the boulders and trees, its light grey stone sidings punctuated by flashes of bright yellow window shutters. Strings of prayer flags were hung from the rafters of the overhanging roof, where a little stone chimney was puffing out a stream of smoke. Each of the windows shone with warm lantern light, making the whole scene look very welcoming indeed.

That was, until the front door opened to reveal a tiny old woman with flyaway grey hair and wearing a markedly un-welcoming expression.

Adrien and Marinette both stopped short as the woman stormed out towards them, scattering the chickens in the wake of her furious footsteps.

The Kwamis rose curiously into the air as she approached.

“Sifu Kunchen!” Rabten said, giving the woman a cheery wave and grinning as if nothing about her angry demeanor was the least bit strange. “I hope you’ve got some food on, I’m starving—”

“And you’ll stay hungry, Rabten you rat!” Kunchen barked, her voice gravelly. She marched right up to him until they were practically nose to nose, and placed her hands—one of them clutching a woven dishtowel—firmly on her hips. “You’ve been in contact with Wang Fu again, haven’t you?!”

Rabten straightened up, a smile still playing on his face. “Well, ‘again’ would imply that I ever stopped being in contact with him, and that wouldn’t really fit well with our third-Wednesday-of-the-month video tea time.”

With an enraged shriek, Kunchen went off on a tirade, slipping back into her native language as Rabten benignly stood by, as if waiting for her to run out of steam.

Marinette looked up at Adrien with shock, and he realized with a pang of guilt that Master Fu must not have warned her of his rocky relationship with this woman.

“Apparently,” he said, ducking his head low to murmur in her ear, “Sifu Kunchen was one of the Guardians even before Master Fu took on the mantle, and she’s never forgiven him for what he did to bring about their fall.”

“AND YOU!” Kunchen roared suddenly in words they could understand, turning to point an accusatory finger directly at Adrien. “How dare you show your face here, you son of a thieving cowardice marmot?!”

Adrien stumbled back in alarm as the small, dragoness woman pushed passed Rabten and advanced on him.

“Hey!” Marinette cried, her Ladybug authority kicking into gear as she tried to stand in Kunchen’s way. “What in the world are you talking about?! Adrien has never done anything of th—”

In a move so swift Adrien could hardly make it out, Kunchen spun Marinette off balance, sending her stumbling off the path.

Tikki fluttered after her worriedly.

“HEY!” Marinette called again, but she was too late.

Plagg leaped into the air with an indignant shout as Kunchen pounced on Adrien, snatching at his scarf and yanking his face down to her level.

Adrien froze, his hands raised meekly above his head in surrender as Kunchen gazed intensely at him with her stormy grey eyes. The dark skin of her face was etched with wrinkles, and age spots were scattered across her cheeks and arms. The seconds crawled by as the two of them stood there, forehead to forehead, his heart racing as Kunchen’s stare seemed to penetrate his very soul.

Fear gripped him, his mind flashing back to what happened to that little boy.

‘Can she know what I’ve done? Is she angry because of the mistakes I’ve made?’

Finally, after a small eternity where Adrien didn’t dare to breath, Kunchen’s boney grip on his scarf loosened. Her face relaxed into something closer to a calm sternness instead of the deep seeded fury it had reflected moments before.

“Interesting,” she said, her voice now level. She released him and took a step back.

Adrien slowly allowed himself to straighten back up, frightened that she would attack him again if he moved too fast for her liking.

“Excuse me,” Marinette said from his elbow, her voice dripping with fury. “Would you care to tell us what the hell that was about?”

Kunchen shifted her gaze to look searchingly at Marinette, one of her eyebrows rising curiously.

“You,” she said, pointing a finger at Marinette’s chest. “I like you. You’ve got a fiery spirit that makes you a good Ladybug.”

“Not to be rude, but I don’t really care what you think of me right now,” Marinette growled, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

“I’m with pigtails on this one,” Plagg huffed, and Tikki nodded vigorously beside him. “What gives you the right, huh lady?”

“Why did you just attack Adrien like that?” Marinette pressed on. “What has he ever done that would warrant such treatment?”

“So that settles it,” Kunchen said, unrepentant. “Neither of you know the truth, then?”

“The truth about what, exactly?” Adrien asked cautiously, finally daring to speak.

Unexpectedly, the look Kunchen wore as she turned back to him had become one of pity. She didn’t say anything for a long minute.

“A man came to me years ago, looking for answers just as you are now,” Kunchen said finally, her intense eyes never leaving Adrien. “He seemed to know a lot more about the Miraculous than anyone who wasn’t actually a wielder ever should. But I let him stay for a night or two. I answered his questions as best I could without giving the secrets that have been held by the Guardian Order for centuries. I gave him food, a warm place to sleep, and what I hoped was some guidance regarding what he sought. But then, on the third morning, I awoke to find that my evening tea had been drugged with herbs from my own garden. And Nooroo was gone.”

“Nooroo?” Tikki gasped. “He was here with you all this time?”

Kunchen finally looked away from Adrien to glance up at the Kwami, her gaze softening slightly.

“Wait,” Marinette said slowly, looking from Tikki to Adrien. “Nooroo is the name of the Butterfly Miraculous’ Kwami, right? You’re telling us that you had Hawkmoth’s Miraculous?!”

“Does it really count as his Miraculous when he stole it to warp and abuse Nooroo’s power?”

Adrien was reeling with this sudden and unexpected flood of information.

“But then…” he said slowly, “that means that the man who stole the Miraculous might actually be Hawkmoth, right?”

“I am not just telling you this because you are the current wielders of the Creation and Destruction Miraculous,” Kunchen said, her frown deepening as she regarded him. “I am telling you this because the name of that man was Gabriel Agreste.”

Look at that, you guys! Two whole chapters in the span of one week? INCONCEIVABLE! Don't get too spoiled, now, because at the rate I've been going with this fic I probably won't finish Chapter 12 for another 6 to 8 business months lol (hopefully not that long, but you know what I mean!)

Thank you everyone who left such wonderful comments on this since last time. I know it doesn't seem like much, but those comments really encourage me to keep going with this. Your excitement makes me excited to share this with you, so THANK YOU! I hope you are all staying safe and taking care of yourselves! <3

PS: My usual editing process involved actually printing out each chapter and make changes by hand, since a different medium helps me catch errors better. Obviously I can't really go to Office Depot and get this one printed out, so there might be more mistakes than usual on this chapter. Sorry!

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fic #marichat #ladynoir #adrinette #adrienette #ladrien #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #rena rouge #carapace #ladybug #chat noir #twhu fic #abnd fic

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theharlequinwriter · 6 years

Text

Guided Arrow ..........part 1

Summary : Being Thea’s twin sister and also part of team arrow when you wake up in the another universe alone and no way home.

warnings : Swear words and PTSD

word count : 2,402

Before I knew it Barry was reaching for my hand and we were falling down a building and then well I don’t really know all I saw was white and when I woke up I was one the side of the road soaking wet and clearly not in star city anymore.

‘’Ollie!!......Speedy......BARRY!!!!.’’

No one answered.

‘’what the fuck happened?’’

Pulling my hood back I put my mask in my pocket and threw my bow over my back and started to walk sticking my thumb out every other foot. Finally reaching a nearby diner I asked for a booth and a cup of coffee while I pulled out all my gadgets trying to find Felicity’s or Barry's voice trying to find me.

‘’you look like you’re lost’’

Darting my head up I saw a man with blue eyes, black hair and oddly a trench coat.

‘’you can say I am in a way.’’

I winked at him as his very handsome friends walked over.

‘’Cas what the hell are you doing?’’

‘’Talking to miss.... I’m sorry I didn’t get your name.’’

‘’y/n Queen’’

‘Names Sam and Dean Winchester’’

The taller one with the long hair stuck out his hand towards me, grabbing his hand I could feel the caclus on his palm from oddly enough....a gun.

‘’So, Cas said you’re lost?’’

Dean asked as he shuffled into my booth.... uninvited.

‘’Yeah, I guess, the last thing I remember is reaching for flash.......my friends hand as I fell then everything went black. I woke up on the side of the road and made my way here.’’

‘’Well we can help you find your way back if you like.’

‘’YES, thank you.’’

Walking outside dean helped me into the car and we were off to their house or what they called their bunker. Once inside i made my way to their version of the quiver. Setting my arrows and hood on the couch began to scan their place. Clearly they really are brothers, not sure on Cas thou.. Possibly dean's boyfriend? not by the way dean watched my ass get into the car. Walking around I found their library full of supernatural information.

‘Where were you guys when darhk was around?’’

Dean came into the room with 4 beers. Handing one to me as Sam sat down and opened his laptop.

‘’So, let's start with your hometown or where you were last.’’

‘’Star city.’’

I watched as Sam typed it into his keyboard and his eyes going wide.

‘’uhm y/n that city doesn’t exist at least not that google knows.’’

‘'w-W-W WHAT DO YOU MEAN DOESN’T EXSIT I WAS JUST THERE!!!’’

‘’Google says nothing found for a Star city.’’

‘’MY WHOLE LIFE IS THERE, MY BROTHER, MY TWIN SISTER, MY NEPHEW! MY BESTFRIENDS MY FAMILY GOD DAMN IT!!!’’

I threw the beer onto the floor.

‘’’listen y/n lets google your family maybe they will come up, you did say your sister in law was a hacker maybe she's hiding the results.’’

‘Okay my Sibling are Oliver and Thea Queen, my best friend is Iris West Allen, Her husband is Barry Allen.’’

Dean looked up at me

‘’You're Brother and best friend are named after comic books?’’

‘NO?’’

Sam ran to the other room carrying back a few plastic covered comic books with the titles. GREEN ARROW and the other THE FLASH. I felt my head going dizzy and everything went black. When i came too I was lying on a couch, I could hear Sam and dean talking.

‘’Maybe she escaped the looney bin.’’

‘’maybe she hit her head harder than she thought.’’

‘’OR THE HOT CHICK IS CRAZY!’’

I made a coughing noise as I walked into the room.

‘Come sit, I'm going to blow your minds.’

We all headed in the war room and sat down.

‘’So, my name is Y/n Queen, my brother is Oliver Queen and Yes he is the Green Arrow, My sister and I are quickdraw and speedy. My Best friend is the wife of the flash, we discovered other worlds or dimensions a long time ago. I'm guessing that’s where I am in a world where I'm nothing more than words on a page.’’

Both Winchesters sat there with their mouths gaping.

‘’So, you're like a real super hero?’’

‘’I guess so, Ollie more is than me, I'm just backup.’’

‘And how did you get here?’’

‘Cisco must have breached me right as I grabbed Barry sending me flying through a breach, although this would be a far new distance for him....I'm happy i made it.’’

‘’Breach?’’

‘’’Rips or portals into other worlds.’’

‘’I need some air.’’

Dean stepped out of the room leaving me, Sam and Cas alone.

‘So, are their angels in your world?’

‘’not that im aware of cas , We have the league of shadows . My brother married their leader, We do have magic buts its really bad.’’

‘’Magics bad here too but more of like hocus pocus and hexes.’’

‘’so, no vigilantes?’’

‘’Not that I know of, I mean we are hunters if that counts.’’

‘’it’ll do.’’

Sam smiled as dean walked into the room.

‘’can i shoot an arrow?’’

‘’Sure dean.’’

We went outside where I let dean have 2 arrows to shoot, he missed both times. Taking my aim, I shot to perfect straight into the apple Sam had placed on the car.

‘’How did you learn to do that?’’

‘’My brother, after slade …. I mean Death Stroke killed my mom, Ollie never wanted me and Thea to be unsafe again and after i busted him on being arrow and dig being spartan....Sorry Dig is my brothers right hand man. He welcomed me to the team as quickdraw due to the fact im a quick shot.’’

‘’wow.... you been through it.’’

‘’ oh, I got stories that would make your mind implode. Ive met a alien well a kryptonian .’’

‘’YOU FUCKIN MET SUPERMAN!!!!’

Dean was shouting now

‘’Well yeah but I meant his cousin Supergirl, she like my pen pal.’’

‘’ So I guess you're staying here till you can get home.’’

‘Thank you, Sam.,’’

Later that night

Laying here in this strange bed in a whole other world completely alone.... alone, the one thing I fear was to be alone. I got up and headed for the library at least it has a good book maybe they will have a new series I can love. Stepping into the library I found Sam researching through a bunch of lore.

‘’Is he real?’’

Sam pointed at a comic with a man named Spiderman.

‘’maybe but not in my world or at least hasn’t made himself known.’’

He nodded to the chair next to him. Sliding into it he handed me a piece of candy.

‘’can't sleep?’’

‘’no im on earth 1 time’’

‘Earth 1?’

‘Well since I knew that one first that’s earth 1 , Supergirl is from earth 3 and I making this earth 4.’’

‘’thanks?’’

‘’So What do you like to do for fun here?’’

‘'Don’t really have time , the hunt never stops , I've actually been to hell , met lucifer and god oh and I Lost my soul and met Gods sister and died a thousand times , so has Dean and Cas.’

I could see the pain welling in his eyes, he was tired.

‘’Sounds likes my brother hehe Hes been through it for 5 years I thought he was dead and then poof he wasn’t, but he wasn’t ollie. He had scars and tattoo, spoke Russian and was very odd. He ended up letting his anger go and now we are happy again even for a moment, But your right lives like ours it only ends in death.’’

Sam laughed as he handed me a beer from the mini frige.

‘’Thats why we gotta go down swinging.’’

‘’Cheers to that.’

Tinking the beers together we continued to exchanged stories and advice. Sam made me feel safe like my life wasn't guns and masks and his wasn’t demons and vampires.

‘’Hi sam , Whose this.... she isnt from here.’’

I screamed as a young man with blonde air appeared out of nowhere.

‘’ y/ n this is jack.....lucifer's son.’’

‘’HOLY SHIT....i mean hi, im sorry im not used to people appearing like that unless they plan to kill me.’’

‘’I think its my fault you’re here.’'

‘’Jack what do you mean its your fault?’’

Before he answered he was gone.

‘’he does this when he is upset and feels guilty, he runs.’’

‘’poor guy.’’

‘Well he is only 5 months old.’’

‘’yeah well …..wait what?’’

‘’he aged in order to survive.’’

‘’oh...so are you completely human?’’

‘’yeah I mgiht be missing a bit of my soul here and there.’’

Sam smiled at his own remark, we headed into the library to research anything on other worlds. 3 hours and 5 cups of coffee each later neither Sam or I found anything besides that I may be stuck here forever. Sam already promised I have a home with them here and I will never be alone as long as hes around. I couldn’t help but notice how warm and safe I feel around him.

I woke up to the feeling of someone breathing, as I opened my eyes I found myself on sams chest cluctching a book on demi gods while sam had one arm wrapped around me and they other on a book on greek gods. We must of fallen asleep on the couch studying , he looks so happy when hes asleep like he isnt living a hard life everyday. Before I could take in anymore of the moment dean came busting into the room causing sam to jump shoving me to the floor.

‘Jacks back’

We all ran to the den where jack sat on the couch clutching his head in his hands. I walked over placing my hand on his shoulder.

‘are you okay?’’

‘im sorry’’

‘’for what....bringing me here. Ive been through worse trust me.’

He looked at me with his bloodshot eyes and buried his head into my chest hugging me tightly. He was still sobbing but at least now he knew I didn’t blame him.

‘so nothing from jack yet?’’

It has been almost 3 weeks since I arrived here , Cas has been working with jack to see if maybe he can re open the rip to send me home. I offered to ask barry and iris to help jack understand himself better, run some test and see what he can and cant handle. Then there's sam , we have gotten really close since I arrived late night studying and him teaching me how to put up warding's and devils traps. I even promised him id get the anti-possession tattoo once im home. Sitting in the den reading the local paper scanning for any sign of supernatural creatures.

‘hey y’n’’

Sam came into the room handing me a cup of coffee and sitting next to me , smiling at me god I love it when he smiles. Snapping out of my trance I had to nod and try to catch up.

‘so jack thinks if we can find a dream walker we can send you home.’

‘’where do we find one of these dream walkers’’

‘’well that’s the thing we only knew one and shes dead but jack thinks he has a lead on another in ohio, him and dean went to check it out . Cas heard of one in California so he went out that way , that just leaves us.’’

Falling into the chair in the library I picked up a comic with the title green arrow looking at the way they drew my brother.

‘’ollie doesn’t have a beard ‘’

Sam chuckled.

‘’what?’’

‘’just how you call him ollie makes him seem like he isnt in a comic book in our world.’’

‘’this should be so odd to you I mean look what I found.’’

I held up a anime comic named supernatural starring sam and dean.

‘'that was written by god , not by a geek in a basement.’’

‘’ so whats sam / dean?’’

‘’how did you hear about that?’’

‘’im a vigilante , if I want info I get it.’’

‘’its nothing , its gross.’’

‘’so am I in one of these books or do I not matter?’’

‘’they stopped being made after dean went to hell , cas is isnt in them either..... but you matter to me ‘

Looking up sam was starring at me with a small smirk on his lips. Shaking his head I could see him searching the room in a painc.

‘’you said something about food and a movie?’

‘uhh yea set up in the tv room I got burgers and venom’’

About halfway into the movie sam got up to leave the room, wondering what was up I decide to follow him into the kitchen , sam was pacing the room on the phone.

‘’what do you mean she was a phony? , y/n is going to be heart broken.’’

‘’yeah I know dean but I do care for her ...of course id love to be with her........dean she has a family and a life....we weren't ever supposed to meet.’’

He hung up his phone turning towards me.

‘’y/n......uhm’’

Without thought I moved forward crashing my lps into his pulling him closer by is plaid collar , his fands found my hips lifting me onto my tip toes pulling me into him. Taking a step back I looked up at him feeling the blood rush to my face when dean came rushing in.

‘hey robin hood we might need your help.’’

Climbing into the impala we drove to a empty house where three bodies laid on the porch and woman with short hair came forward extending her hand.

‘’names Jody , dean here tells me your one of us.’’

Nodding I looked at dean.

‘why do you need me here?’’

‘’because this guy here says hes from star city’’

Stepping into the door, a man with his hands and feet tied laid on the floor with a bag on his head, reaching out i lifted the bag to revel cold dead eyes and a buzz cut along with the smile of the devil and his body covered in tattoos.

‘’d-d—d—d-d- dia'’

‘’hello y/n , Miss me baby doll ?’’

#Supernatural imagines #supernatural #sam winchester #sammy #winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester oneshot #green arrow #oliver queen #thea queen #speedy #littlebrothersammyimagines

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carmenlire · 6 years

Note

First one, Alec to Magnus?

Thank you dear!! This was so so fun!!!!

Prompt: "Sorry I ruined your life. Maybe you shouldn't have married me."

read on ao3

“You don’t understand, Alexander–”

“Oh, I think I understand just fine.”

“Goddamnit! Will you just listen to me. I’m trying to tell you–”

“I know what you’re trying to tell me, Magnus.” Alec breaks off, breathing hard, trying to ignore the way his voice is cracking. “I’m sorry that you were turned down for that promotion because of me. Sorry I ruined your life. Maybe you shouldn’t have married me.“

Everything freezes and Magnus’s face turns ashen. The only sound in the room is their labored breathing. Alec turns around, takes a few steps before raising his hands to his face, pressing trembling palms into his eyes hard enough to burn.

Fuck, he’s so tired. He’s been arguing with Magnus for the better part of the evening and everything’s been off between them for days. He’d known something was up with his husband but like a goddamn fool, he’d given Magnus his space. He knew Magnus better than anyone and usually all his husband needed was a little time before he told Alec whatever it was that was bothering him.

Alec had left mildly concerned and moved up to actively worried two days ago. Magnus didn’t smile when he sat across from Alec for breakfast. He didn’t seem to welcome his touch when they went to bed.

He was spending more time out of the loft than usual and pulled away from Alec when he got too close.

It was tearing up Alec from the inside out and everything had risen to a boiling point tonight. Alec had made dinner for them, partly to soothe Magnus but mostly to silently apologize for whatever is what that he seemed to have done.

He’d barely dished out the pasta before Magnus had returned to his new uncommunicative self. He’d avoided eye contact and responded with monosyllabic answers said in a dead voice.

Finally plain pissed off, Alec had asked, “What bug crawled up your ass?”

Without looking up from his plate, Magnus had said, “I didn’t get that promotion at the lab.”

Immediately contrite, Alec had reached out to apologize and reassure Magnus. Before he’d been given the chance, though, Magnus had coolly continued, “They said that my choice in spouse was a liability to the company’s reputation.”

Alec had stilled, brain refusing to process the words. Magnus was blaming him for the sharp veer in his career. He was appalled, blindsided.

Thus had began the argument.

It had quickly grown into a yelling match. Magnus was by turns frigid and volcanic while Alec maintained a defensive, snide veneer.

Alec feels fucking tears pool and presses harder against his traitorous eyes.

His marriage is imploding and he’s caught in the middle, being sliced to ribbons by every sneering word and biting retort.

The room is still silent and Alec focuses on his breathing. He can’t focus on anything, just wonders how the hell it came to this.

He’s startled when he feels Magnus come up behind him, wrapping arms around his middle and resting his forehead against Alec’s back.

Alec’s almost afraid to breathe lest Magnus back away, out of his reach and out of their home.

Magnus shifts, leaves bare kisses against the expanse of Alec’s shoulders, feather light and ephemeral. Fleeting like this respite.

“I love you, Alexander. Don’t you ever goddamn doubt that.”

Alec shudders but doesn’t say anything. He’s afraid to. He doesn’t know when Magnus became a landmine that he was terrified of setting off but here they are.

“You are the light of my life,” Magnus rasps. “There is not a single day that goes by that I don’t want to get down on my fucking knees and thank Christ that I get to have you. You are everything, darling.”

Alec pulls away, whirling around to confront Magnus. “Then what the fuck was that line of bullshit earlier about me holding you back? I know how important your career is to you, Magnus, and I know that if anything else got in its way you’d cut it out without hesitation or remorse. Why won’t you just fucking talk to me,” he pleads.

Magnus takes a deep breath, raising his hands in a surrendering gesture. “I phrased my explanation earlier poorly and I am so sorry about that. Please, just– listen. Let me talk.”

Alec doesn’t say anything, just stares at Magnus, eyes dead. He is so fucking tired.

Galvanized, Magnus rushes to fill the dead air that’s strangling him as he starts to grasp just how wrong this entire thing’s gone.

“As you know, Ragnor left for a better position last month, leaving the director’s position open at Labyrinth Labs.” Magnus measures each word, desperate to make sure that he’s conveying exactly what he wants, that Alec will understand him. That he wants to understand.

Magnus stares into Alec’s expressionless face and licks his lips, willing Alec to just listen for a minute. “Lorenzo Rey took over in the interim and he was tasked with choosing a successor. We’ve been rivals for years and I knew that it would stick in Rey’s craw to promote me.

“However, with my reputation and credentials, he’d be a fool not to, especially when his decision would come under a lot of speculation.” Magnus looks up, gazing intently into Alec’s eyes. He takes a step closer but quickly stills when he sees Alec stiffen.

“Unfortunately, Rey chose someone else from an outside company to commandeer the department. He said–” Magnus breaks off as he sees the shutters fall over Alec’s eyes.

Uncaring, he steps forward, reaches out and takes his lovely husband’s hands, holding on with an iron grip even though Alec makes no move to withdraw– though he doesn’t return Magnus’s hold.

“He said that having the spouse of the heir to Lightwood Incorporated would raise suspicion since your parents filed bankruptcy in disgrace. I was fine as a lead scientist but having such a publicized leadership role in Labyrinth would put everyone under a microscope and he just couldn’t justify promoting me.”

Magnus sees Alec pulling away, emotionally just before physically and he invades Alec’s space until they’re breathing the same air. One hand keeps Alec’s in his as the other goes to his face, cupping his cheek, turning his head until he’s staring into Alec’s goddamn soul. “But, darling, my beautiful Alexander– that was the wrong move. I refused to accept that decision and went over his head. His superiors agreed that it was foolish decision and there’s been an internal investigation going on that will most likely end next week with an announcement of Lorenzo’s resignation under concerning circumstances and mounting evidence of questionable business activities. I’ll probably be promoted in the next few weeks.”

Alec’s silent for a long minute.

He opens his mouth, closing it without saying anything. Finally he gets out, “Then why– why have you been in such a shit mood this week?”

Shaking his head, Magnus looks lost. “I don’t really have a reason. Lorenzo was pissing me off but I didn’t want to burden you– I know that you’re on deadline for your book and–”

“Magnus, you have to know that nothing, not my book, not anything is more important to me than you. You come first, always, no questions asked.”

Magnus looks discomfited. “I’m sorry, Alec. I just know how much the stuff with your parents bothers you and didn’t want to bring it all up–”

Filing away that information, Alec is helpless to keep the burning question from escaping. “You said I was holding you back–”

Alec stops talking as Magnus raises a finger to his lips. “I did not,” he gently chides. “I started the story by explaining what Lorenzo had said and then you shut down and things escalated and grew out of hand.”

They’re both quiet as they process the words. Playing through the evening, Alec can admit that Magnus has a point. This fight had been brewing all week and Alec had granted no quarter, hadn’t wanted to when he’d been hurt and pissed off and had finally found an outlet.

“I guess,” he starts, tongue darting out to wet his mouth. “I guess I could’ve listened a little before jumping all over you.”

Magnus smiles. “You could’ve. But, then, I’ve been in a funk all week and I’ll admit that I could’ve started my story with a few disclaimers and a better explanation. I did spring everything on you in a poor light.”

Both of his hands go to Alec’s face, squishing his cheeks just a little as he commands Alec’s complete attention. “I need you to know something, Alexander. I know emotions were running high and we were both frustrated and pissed off and hurt but I love you. There is not a single universe where I am not the luckiest man alive for having married you. I will never, ever regret that, my love. I don’t care if it was completely because of you that I didn’t get that promotion. I don’t care. If having you meant that I had to shovel shit for the rest of my life, I wouldn’t care. Not as long as I had you waiting for me at the end of it.”

Alec softens, knows that there’s vulnerability shining in his eyes. “I want you to have the world, Magnus. I couldn’t take it if I was standing in your way.”

“You never stand in my way, darling. You stand at my side and make me better, always.”

Alec falls forward, wrapping arms around Magnus’s waist and burying his face in his husband’s neck.

They both hold onto each other too tightly. After long minutes, they move to the bedroom, ignoring the mess in the kitchen, the tension still seeping through the living room.

They strip and climb into bed, They hold each other for hours, murmuring reassurance and talking quietly through the night.

Magnus gets his promotion and Alec stands by his side.

There are fights and arguments and disagreements. Neither ever questions the other’s devotion again. They both build their marriage to new and better heights, always finding security and strength in it and in each other.

#thank you so much for sending me a prompt!!!!!#this was really a lot of fun to write and I hope you like it!!!!#something better #my writing #anon #asked #answered #malec fic

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