#I am rambling I should probably stop. Thanks for listening Have a great morning/ day/ afternoon/ evening/ night. :)

[123countwithme]

So umm found Welcome Home and yeah.....

[searidings]

hi, i just love you and your writing

can i suggest something - you are in love (taylor swift) and supercorp

i cannot listen to that song without going yeah, that's them

(also on ao3 if you prefer)

Five years from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, five years from now, Lena will think back to this moment.

This moment, which is as close as Lena's come to happiness since she'd woken up ziptied to a chair in her brother's office. This moment which, despite the fuzzy feeling of her unbrushed teeth and the pungent aroma of burnt toast filling the air, is perfect.

Kara, bed-warm and sleep-heavy, is gazing beseechingly down at the charred remains of a slice of a bread as though if she only pouts hard enough, its edges will un-blacken and its corners will stop smoking.

“I'm so sorry,” she says as Lena rounds the screen separating Kara's bedroom from the rest of the apartment and perches herself on a barstool, tugging her borrowed sleep shorts a little lower down her thighs.

Kara's tone is mournful, her face so forlorn she looks to be one deep breath away from tears. “I wanted breakfast to be perfect, since it's your first time staying over and if it's terrible you might not want to stay again and I, I really want you to stay again, but I don't know why you would since you probably have a private chef waiting for you at home and I can’t even manage toast—”

“Kara,” Lena interrupts, biting at the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing as Kara's bottom lip trembles. “It's fine, really. I once set fire to my dorm kitchen trying to boil an egg. And besides,” she winks as blue eyes meet hers. “I like to give my personal chef the weekends off.”

Kara huffs out a relieved chuckle, her face brightening. “Oh, well, in that case,” she grins, a sparkle returning to her eyes. “I'd better feed you up before you go home. Never let it be said that I don't look after you.”

Lena can't help the smile that pulls at her as the warm bright feeling in her chest grows and grows. She tugs the sleeves of Kara's sweatshirt over her hands, fighting the urge to fidget as the blonde orders a frankly obscene amount of food from the brunch place on the corner.

She feels exposed like this, face bare and hair sleep-mussed, unshowered with unbrushed teeth, huddled inside borrowed clothes after the impromptu invitation to stay over when last night's movie marathon ran late. It's a far cry from the regimented composure she fights so hard every day to project, and something in her chest twists anxiously.

Kara is a reporter, after all, and National City really doesn't need any more reasons to hate Lena right now. The darkest corner of her mind – the one which has been waiting for the other shoe to drop, for everything to come crashing down ever since the whirlwind of Kara's too-good-to-be-true friendship had come blazing into her life – still worries that this may all be an elaborate ruse. A trap, a way to get close to her in order to assess her weaknesses, to bring her down with an inside scoop.

But in their six months of friendship, Kara's never given her any reason to believe she has any kind of ulterior motive. And despite the suspicions and anxieties hammered into her by a lifetime of hurt, Lena knows now that even if this is a trap, she'll take the bait willingly. Especially if it means Kara will keep looking at her like there might just be something in Lena that's worth her time.

"Hey,” the blonde says gently, leaning back against the counter opposite and pinning Lena with a searching look. “You okay? You kind of zoned out on me there.”

Lena jumps, blinking back into herself with a start. “Yes, sorry. I was miles away.”

The blonde only smiles, flicking on the coffee machine at her elbow. “You sleep okay?”

“Very well, thank you,” Lena answers, fighting to lessen the formality of her tone, to soften the edges her harsh childhood had sharpened into a fortress to keep the world at bay. “Your bed is surprisingly comfortable. I had a great night's sleep.”

"Perhaps the company had something to do with it,” Kara winks as she turns to pull two mugs down from the hooks at her shoulder. Lena thinks back to the smell of Kara's sheets and the soft pulls of her breathing, to the warmth of Kara's ankle against her calf and the strong fingers that had wrapped themselves in the sleeve of Lena's sweatshirt in sleep, anchoring them together. She blushes.

Kara only smirks, pouring their drinks and grabbing the milk from the fridge. “Well, the food's all ordered, it should be here soon,” she says over her shoulder, the waterfall of her golden ponytail mesmerising in the bright rays of morning light filtering in through the vaulted windows. “And you don't need to head off in a hurry, unless you have plans—?”

She glances back at Lena, who shakes her head. “Great!” she grins. “’Cause I was thinking, maybe we could check out the botanical gardens, since it's such a nice day? Oh, and there's a new bakery right across the street that I've been dying to try—”

Lena listens to the blonde's excited rambling with an endeared smile plastered to her face, feeling happy and warm and wanted with every fibre of her being. The feeling is new but so welcome she could cry, and Lena wonders – not for the first time – how she ever got so lucky.

Kara's presence in her life is like sugar in her coffee; meant only to sweeten that which has always been bitter.

Lena's always taken her coffee black. Softening the blow was never much her style.

But here, now, perched at Kara's breakfast bar with her hands wrapped around a steaming mug the blonde has brewed to perfection, sunlight streaming in and highlighting the angles and planes of Kara's face, the way she’s smiling at Lena like there's nowhere else in the world she'd rather be, she realises her reasoning is twofold.

Sugar isn't just appetising. It's addictive. And now that Lena's had a taste of sweetness, she's hooked.

In this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

-

Four years from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, four years from now, Lena will also think back to this moment.

This moment, which may well be one of the lowest of Lena's life. And she's had some doozies.

The two bottles of wine she'd managed to mainline between Sam leaving to orchestrate damage control at L-Corp and Kara arriving and attempting to confiscate her glass have well and truly caught up to her now. She sways heavily on her stool, the room spinning. Tears sting her vision and guilt scorches her throat as she presses a hand over her eyes so she won't have to look at Kara's face anymore.

“Please, just— just, stop believing in me, okay?” she slurs, heart full to shattering with the faces of lead-poisoned children. “I am not worth it.”

She hears Kara sigh, and the room falls silent for a long long time. Lena drops her head fully into her hands, fighting the nausea that's taken root in the pit of her stomach. It could be the booze that's causing it, of course, but it could also be the incessant headlines baying for her blood, the bullet James had taken for her that she'd fully deserved, the curse of her family finally fulfilling itself.

The guilt, the worry, the crushing disappointment of the knowledge that despite her very best efforts, she'll never be anything but a monster— it's too much to feel. It's too much to bear.

So, Lena drinks.

She drains her glass. She pours another. Kara watches, silent and disapproving, fingers twitching against the granite countertop between them.

Lena finishes her glass. Splashes the last dregs of the bottle into it, blood on ice. Still Kara watches, motionless and mute. It's only when Lena's swallowed the last of the red and is lurching unsteadily to her feet to source another that she moves, a hand reaching out to encircle her wrist.

Shame ignites beneath her skin and she pushes Kara away. Snaps at her to go home, to learn to recognise a lost cause when she sees one and just give up already. Kara refuses with a stoic shake of her head, and Lena sighs.

They repeat the same routine three times en route to Sam's wine rack, the blonde shadowing her every step. Each time, Lena wobbles, head fuzzy and room spinning. Each time, Kara steadies her, and Lena flinches from her touch like her palm is a brand, snarls at her to leave, to cut her losses, to just fuck off. Each time, Kara refuses.

She eventually retrieves the wine after a number of unsuccessful attempts but overbalances on her toes, bottle slipping from her grip as she sways dangerously. And then Kara is there, glass bottle caught a split second before it can shatter, a firm arm at her waist that will not be rebuffed.

Lena struggles, shoving and protesting, but this time Kara does not give in. “Enough,” she says quietly, firmly, blue eyes burning a mere inch from Lena's own. “Lena, enough.”

Lena's unsteady legs buckle further and Kara’s basically holding her up now, walking her slowly over to the couch and she shouldn't be this strong, surely, shouldn't be lifting Lena onto the cushions quite this easily. But it's such a minor concern when weighted against the fact that Lena is personally responsible for the hospitalisation of children that her mind brushes over it, forgets it immediately.

"Please go home,” she slurs as the blonde arranges her on the couch, as she stashes the unopened wine far out of reach and sets about finding blankets and pillows in various cupboards. “Please, just— leave me alone.”

“No,” Kara says, almost snaps, glancing back over her shoulder. Partially hidden in the linen cupboard, her face is cast deep in shadow, a splinter of half-concealed truth. “I made you a promise, I gave you my word. I'm your friend, and I will protect you. Always.”

She crosses back to the couch, soft blankets and pillows held out in invitation. When Lena refuses the offering Kara sighs, draping a knitted throw over her anyway and perching on the cushions beside Lena's hip. “I'm not going to leave you, so you might as well stop asking,” she hums, softer now, a hand reaching toward her that Lena no longer possesses the strength or coordination to bat away.

Long fingers make contact with her cheek, with the mussed curls tangling in her eyelashes, and Kara sighs. “You are not your brother,” she murmurs, fingertips grazing Lena's cheekbone, sliding back to thread into the fine hair at her temple. “And you never will be. There's too much light in you to allow for that kind of darkness, so put that fear down, Lena. Let it go. Be free of it.”

Tears spring unbidden to her eyes. “I poisoned children.”

Kara tilts forward and Lena wonders if it's just that her vision has upped its spinning, but then warm lips are pressing against her forehead, soft and delicate as gossamer wings. Kara's mouth moves against her skin, breath damp and sweet and unmistakeably her. “You saved the world.”

Neither one of them moves. When Lena speaks again, the words hit the elegant hollow of Kara's throat. “I don't deserve your kindness. I don't deserve you.”

Kara's lips are still on her forehead. “I don't care.”

Lena feels as if her throat is splitting open, every last fear and hatred and worry and insecurity gushing out of her in an unstoppable stream. “I'm scared.”

“I know.” Kara's lips press once more, and then withdraw. They watch each other in the dim light from the kitchen. Lena's vision is beginning to blur at the edges. Kara's hand is still in her hair.

“You will get through this,” the blonde whispers, so earnest Lena almost manages to believe her. “We'll figure it out. Together.”

Heart in her mouth, tongue sticking behind her teeth, Lena's eyes slide closed.

The sweetness of Kara's words, her gentle touches, seep inside her like honey. She doesn't deserve it but God, she wants it. She wants to be worthy of Kara's faith in her more than she's ever wanted anything in her life. She wants Kara more than she's ever wanted anything in her life.

And it's telling, she knows, that she's just lost the trust of all of National City, that she has no way of easing those children's suffering and no way to prove that she isn't the cause of it, that she's finally living up to the Luthor name she's been running from ever since she'd learned what it truly meant and yet in this moment, with Kara's hand in her hair and the ghostly imprint of her lips on Lena's skin, none of it seems to matter.

In this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

-

Three years from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, three years from now, Lena will also think back to this moment.

This moment, which stands alone as an oasis of calm in the turbulent tumult of the past days, weeks, months of chaos. Lex's escape from custody, Eve Teschmacher's betrayal, James’ shooting, the Harun-El serum, the whole shitty totality of it all has been weighing Lena down like an nth metal chain around her neck.

And Kara, Kara hasn't been around. The one person who has always managed to ease Lena's suffering has deserted her when she needs her the most and it feels like she's been sliced open, cracked in two.

She tells her as much, when Kara at last comes to see her. Tells her she's missed her, tells her she needs her, all but begs her to stay. And what does Kara do? She leaves.

And when she leaves, Lena is gripped by a panic so intense she fears she may never breathe freely again. So terrified is she that Kara is gone for good, that she's forced away the best thing that's ever happened to her, that almost before she knows what's happening she finds herself at Catco with apologies dripping from her own tongue.

Anything to get Kara back. Anything to keep her.

Lena apologises. Kara apologises. Lena cries, and Kara holds her, and tells her that the decision to help her brother when he was dying of cancer doesn't make her the monster she now believes herself to be. And standing on her office balcony with Kara's fingers wrapped around her biceps, with her own tears spotting dark on Kara's blazer, Lena manages to believe her.

When she's collected herself, smoothed away the wetness coursing down her cheeks, she speaks. “I really want to help you with your investigation on Lex.”

Kara's face lights up; Lena's whole world along with it.

“I'd love that,” Kara says, voice quiet and still a little tentative in the wake of their new truce. “But first— would you, um. Would you like to have lunch with me?”

Lena blinks. “Don't you want to get started on the exposé?”

“I do. But—” Kara's face is still painted that earnest shade from earlier, when she'd smoothed her hands over Lena's shoulders and whispered you are a brilliant, kind-hearted, beautiful soul against the sensitive skin of her neck. Lena feels her cheeks heat up at the memory, at the intensity in the blue eyes still roving her face.

Kara shuffles her feet but her gaze is clear, unwavering. “But you were right. I've spent too much time recently prioritising the wrong things. So, I want to work on this exposé with you, and I want to bring your brother down. But first, I'd really just like to have lunch with my best friend.”

Lena's heart trips in her chest. “I'd like that too.”

So, that's what they do. Kara asks her to wait, which she does, idly tapping out a few emails on her phone. And then the blonde is back, far quicker than should have been possible, with her arms full of takeout bags from the café on the third floor and she's taking Lena by the hand and leading her to Cat Grant's private elevator. She presses the button for the roof and Lena's gaze jumps to her face but Kara only smiles, and squeezes her fingers. “Trust me, it'll be worth it,” she hums, her excitement infectious. “You'll be safe with me.”

And Lena believes her.

That's how she ends up sitting at the edge of Catco's roof on a clean sheet Kara had borrowed from the builders on the second floor, heels kicked off, Kara's red blazer draped around her shoulders. It is worth it, she'll admit; the view from this high is phenomenal. The sun burns bright in a cloudless sky, glinting off the glass-sided skyscrapers of the business district, the glittering waters of the bay beyond.

Kara had picked up Lena's favourite salad, some flatbreads and dips, and they drink kombucha and eat strawberries in the sunshine. They talk and they laugh and they catch up and there's no more fighting, no animosity, no megalomaniac brothers or backstabbing secretaries or worlds needing to be saved. There's only them, she and Kara, and it feels like all she will ever need.

The blonde's hands are braced behind her on the rooftop and she looks happy and carefree as she regales Lena with stories of her upstairs neighbour's antics, and Lena feels the tight knot of tension that had taken up residence in her chest begin to unfurl.

"Hey,” Kara hums, pushing up straighter as Lena licks strawberry juice from her fingertips. The motion brings them closer, their shoulders brushing. “Look up.”

Lena does. High above them, a huge murmuration of starlings whirls and swoops through the air. Thousands of birds move together as one, a vast wave cresting but never breaking against the blue canvass of sky.

“Wow,” Lena gasps, awed.

Against her side, Kara hums. “Yeah.”

They watch the birds for a long moment, captivated by the ceaseless swirling and diving. When Lena at last tears her gaze away from the sky, Kara's eyes rest intently on her face. "Here,” the blonde murmurs, reaching out. The pad of one finger makes feather-light contact with her cheek. Lena's breath catches in her chest.

Kara holds out her finger, proffering the stray eyelash she'd captured with a smile. "Make a wish,” she whispers, her fingertip an inch from Lena's mouth. Her eyes never leave Lena’s.

Lena looks from Kara's face to the eyelash, and back again. From somewhere deep inside her heart, the truth bubbles its way to the surface. “I don't need to.”

Kara smiles, a brilliant, beautiful smile, and Lena knows. The stresses and anxieties of their current crisis feel far away here, harmless as birdsong. She's meted out forgiveness, received it in return. For the first time in her adult life Lena has communicated an issue with a loved one and been heard, understood. She has admitted her own mistake without having it spell out the end of her relationship.

Lena smiles back. The weight of the world sublimates into nothing beneath the bliss of a simple picnic in the sun.

In this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

-

Two years from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, two years from now, Lena will think back to this moment.

This moment, which has sapped the both of them to the bone. Another fight, another screaming match, another quick-fire back and forth of accusations and recriminations. Another night of cursing and crying and choking on all the things they never said before this, on all the things they can't now that Kara's secret has detonated in the shrinking space between them like a nuclear bomb.

Another round of bloodshed, and for what?

Lena sags against the arm of the couch, exhausted. Her face is hot, scratchy with salt from the tears still drying on her skin. She's dehydrated, probably, and half hoarse from shouting, tongue blistered with the bitter sting of betrayal.

Across the no man's land of her living room, Kara slumps against the floor-length windows, drops her temple to the cool glass. She's breathing heavily, cheeks wet, posture battered and eyes dark-bruised beneath the force of Lena's wrath. As Lena watches, her eyes slide closed.

It's been three months since Lena found out. Three weeks since Kara found out that Lena had found out.

Every night since, they've done this. Every night, Kara has shown up on her balcony and begged, pleaded, apologised, cajoled, defended, rebuffed, and sobbed. Every night, Lena has unleashed the hollow agony of Kara's deception masquerading as anger in her chest, incinerating the both of them in the fires of her desolation.

She would have expected the wounds to have cauterised by now. To feel some kind of release, the relief of catharsis. Or at least, to have expended some of her fury after all this time.

She hasn't.

They've been at this for three hours already this evening, and gotten nowhere. Kara's skin is pale above that fucking supersuit, face drawn and complexion sallow.

Lena knows how she feels. The singular exhaustion that is her rift with Kara has sapped her in every way imaginable. She can't sleep. She barely eats. She's no longer interested in work, research, friends. There's nothing in her life that isn't tainted by the shadow of the lies her best friend told and kept telling, every day for four years. Lena doesn't know how any amount of screaming and crying is ever going to get them past that.

Across the room, Kara sighs. It might be the saddest sound Lena has ever heard.

“Should we keep doing this?” she asks after an interminable silence, voice rough with tears still building. Her eyes are still closed.

Lena manages, with exorbitant effort, to raise her drooping head. “What?”

“Is there a point to all this?” Kara asks quietly, hunched body sliding a little further down the glass. "The explanations, the fighting?”

Blue eyes blink open. The weight of the sadness in them is unbearable. Lena struggles to find it within herself to care.

“Lying to you about who I am is the single biggest mistake I have ever made, and if it will make even one single shred of difference I will apologise to you every day for as long as I live,” Kara says into the aching chasm between them. “But I can't keep doing this. Not if it won't change anything. I can't— I don't want to keep hurting you.”

An hour ago, Lena would have scoffed at a sentiment like that. Would have parried back with some piercingly dry comment about how the blonde should have thought about that before she decided to betray Lena's trust as soundly as she possibly could.

Now, though— now, she's just too tired.

“So, should we keep doing this?” Kara whispers, throat working. “Or— God, Lena. Should we just— should we give up?”

Green eyes meet blue, two shattered hearts haemorrhaging between them. “Is that what you want?”

“No.” Kara's voice is loud, fiercely determined in the face of Lena's hesitant whisper. “God, no. Never. I don't ever want to give up on you, Lena. I don't ever want to give you up.”

Kara straightens then, with a strength Lena cannot imagine mustering herself. Perks of being a superhero, she supposes. Perks of being Kryptonian. The thought stakes another shard of ice through her bleeding heart.

“But I know that I've spent four years calling the shots for both of us by keeping you in the dark,” Kara continues. “I've taken away your agency. I've taken away your choice. I won't do that again.”

She sucks in a deep breath, a little of Supergirl's regality seeping back into the defeated slump of her shoulders. “So, I'm doing what I should have done from the start. I'm being honest with you, and hoping that you'll be honest back. I'm asking what you want.”

Kara's fingers twist anxiously before her, bottom lip bleaching white beneath the nervous pressure of her teeth. “Do you think we should keep doing this? Or do you— fuck.” Her voice cracks, the tears brimming in her eyes once again breaking free. “Do you want to give up?”

Jesus Christ. Lena never knew that the prospect of doing the right thing could hurt so much.

“Fuck,” she mutters as she kneads her knuckles over her closed eyelids, digging in until white lights starburst across her vision. “Fuck, Kara.”

“I know,” the blonde whispers from across the room, brittle and broken. “I know. I'm sorry.”

Lena slows her assault on her own eyelids, pinching thumb and forefinger hard at the bridge of her nose instead. “I want to give up,” she mutters, and in the taut silence between them she hears the blonde gasp, watery and thick.

Lena blinks open her eyes to find Kara's face crumpling, every facet of her seeming to fold in on itself even as she visibly fights to keep herself upright.

Lena sighs, and hates Kara, and hates herself even more. “I want to, but— I can't.” She sucks in a ragged breath, hating the truth that's just fallen from her lips, hating the lies that had necessitated it. Hating everything and everyone and most of all, hating just how much she's hurting. “I can't give this up.”

The tiniest spark of hope flares to life in Kara's eyes. Lena hates that she notices, hates that she cares, hates that the sight eases the tight knot of devastation clawing at her ribcage just the tiniest bit.

She also knows that this was inevitable. She knows that, though she hates Kara, though she's nowhere close to forgiving her, though she has no idea how they can rebuild from here or even if she truly wants to try, a question like Kara's could only ever have one answer.

In this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

-

One year from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, one year from now, Lena will also think back to this moment.

This moment, which is barely even a moment at all. It's more like a dream, warm and faded and fogged in darkness, seconds stolen when sleep should have long since claimed them.

Kara's nightmare had woken them both. In the month since they'd pulled her out of the Phantom Zone, she hadn't slept alone once. Often, she stays with Alex, curling into her sister's side the way she would when they were just kids after one too many late-night horror movies. Once, she stays with Nia, tucked up snug in a borrowed pair of puppy print pyjamas.

Mostly, she stays with Lena. It's natural and unspoken and easy as breathing, the way Kara will show up at her place after a Supergirl save or Lena will let herself into the blonde's apartment after a late night in the lab. They cook dinner and watch Celebrity Masterchef and brush their teeth elbow to elbow at the bathroom sink and when Kara is inevitably tugged screaming and sobbing from her night terrors, the way she presses her face to Lena's neck and her hand over Lena's heart is natural and unspoken and easy as breathing, too.

Kara's racing pulse has calmed a little, her grip on Lena's body beneath her losing some of its urgent desperation. After a long moment of Lena's hand stroking her hair, of gentle reassurances and lips pressed to her temple the blonde pulls back, just enough to rest her head on the pillow facing her.

In the dim light filtering in through the bedroom window Kara's pupils are blown, her face solemn. There's something in her heavy gaze that Lena can't identify; something weighted and potent that prickles goosebumps up the length of her spine.

"Feeling better?” she whispers into the inch of warm air between them, reaching out to tuck a sweat-matted curl reverently behind the blonde's ear.

Kara catches her retreating hand and holds tight, twining their fingers together on the narrow swathe of pillow between them. If either of them were to move so much as a millimetre, their clasped hands would press against their lips.

The blonde nods and sure enough, the soft heat of her mouth brushes the back of Lena's knuckles. She shivers.

Kara is still watching her, the intensity of her gaze causing Lena's heart to thud hard in her throat. She squeezes lightly at the fingers threaded through her own. “What?”

A pause, heavy and sweet as overripe fruit. Kara blinks once, slow. “You're my best friend.”

Lena swallows down a sudden swell of emotion. The blonde nudges closer and when she speaks, the wet seam of her lips catches on the angle of Lena's bent knuckles, painting her skin with the words.

“You're the most important person in the world to me,” Kara whispers, breaths skating fire-flashes across Lena's fingers, voice muffling out past the mouth pressed to her skin. “You know that, right?”

Lena's voice deserts her in the wake of the quiet words. She leans forward instead, presses her lips to Kara's fingertips where they rest against the back of her own hand. It's answer enough.

She hears Kara's breath catch, feels the disruption mirrored in her own chest. Both their mouths are pressed to the joined hands clasped between them. If they were to move their fingers down even just a fraction, there would be nothing separating their lips but a promise, a prayer.

Kara's eyelashes flutter in the semi-darkness. The tip of her nose brushes Lena's own. Neither one of them moves their hands.

They only gaze at one another a long moment, and Lena wonders if the blonde is memorising the planes of her face the way she's memorising Kara's. She could look at her forever, be happy here with her forever, and in this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

For the first time, she wonders if she might not be the only one.

-

Right now, Kara is reaching across the table at Noonan's and taking Lena's hand.

It's been three weeks since they'd taken down Lex for the last time. Three weeks since Kara had stormed into the Tower's med bay to cup Lena's bloody, bruised face in her hands; since she'd brushed her thumbs feather-light over Lena's split eyebrow and purpling jaw and growled don't you ever scare me like that again. Three weeks since she'd leaned in and pressed her lips to Lena's.

It's been two weeks and six days since Lena, confined to a gurney but utterly uncaring thanks to the warm Kryptonian curled against her side, had pressed her aching face to Kara's shoulder and first whispered that she loved her. Two weeks and six days since Kara had first said it back.

It's been two weeks and five and a half days since Nia had walked in on Lena in Kara's arms, lips pressed to her neck and hands wandering beneath her sweatshirt, and promptly shrieked the place down. Since their friends had exchanged pointed glances and relieved sighs and congratulated them on finally making it official, their expressions ranging from overjoyed to exasperated to plain exhausted.

It's been two weeks and four days of she and Kara dating; of morning kisses and shared showers and the perfect partner at game night and all of Lena's wildest dreams coming true.

It's been less than a minute since Kara had admitted, hushed and wondering, that she'd known she was in love with Lena ever since she'd found herself suddenly prepared to poison National City's entire water supply rather than let Lena fall. That she hadn't been able to fully it admit it to herself until she'd found herself suddenly prepared to alter the course of all of history in order to get Lena back.

And right now, Kara is reaching across the table at Noonan's and taking her hand. She's looking deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice barely rises above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And now that she has, Lena is sure of her answer.

The highlight reel of her relationship with Kara lays itself at Lena's feet, each precious memory between them stretching out like a roadmap of her growing affection, with every hard-won step leading her right to this moment.

And in this moment, Lena knows. She's in love with Kara. Really, she always has been.

[ms-starflower]

Young Survivors — Maribat

It’s almost four am here, I just finished writing this and am just tired enough to actually go through and post it. And this title is the only thing my tired brain could come up with. Anyway. I haven't posted something I wrote in years, but all the Maribat I’ve read recently made me want to write something for it.

I don’t know if I’m ever going to write a 2 part, but if I do it’s definitely going to be Timari and contain a couple of typical Maribat tropes. And a pinch of salt.

Also, disclaimer: I haven't watched Miraculous in years and most of my DC knowlege come from fanfic or tumblr so... sorry not sorry.

Now with a part 2!

Next >

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

Mei Leyton’s oldest memories were of her mother, dolled up in pretty dresses and elegant makeup. In her daughter‘s eyes, Margaret Leyton was the most beautiful woman on earth.

For as long as she could remember, Mei would sit on the bed and watch as her mom would get ready to head to work. She had always loved those moments with her mom.

(How do I look, my little flower,” she said, twirling around Mei with a grin, making her laugh. It was Margaret’s favorite dress, a vintage halter blue dress with white accents and a white bow around the waist.

“Like a princess, mommy! The prettiest princess ever!”

“Oh no, no no no. You are the prettiest princess ever, my little flower.”)

She was four when her mother let her help for the first time, letting her pass along brushes and products. It’s then that she understood what were the purple marks on her mother that she covered with her makeup.

(“Life is not fair to us, my little flower,” she had said when Mei asked about it for the first time. “Being an orphan and pretty little girl in Gotham isn’t safe, and it doesn’t give much choice when it comes to survival.”

Mei didn’t understand then, but it didn’t matter anyway, life would make her understand soon enough.)

When Mei was seven, the GCPD found her mother’s body.

When she didn’t see her that morning, Mei hadn’t been worried; it wasn’t the first time. Mom would be home by noon, she always was. Until that day.

(The investigation wouldn’t get very far, it was just another prostitute of Camellia street, nobody cared about them. They were just there until they weren’t anymore.

Another girl would take her place in a couple of days. It was how those kinds of things worked in Gotham.)

That day was kind of blurry in her memory. She remembers being pulled out of class in the morning, and that the cop that told her about her mother’s death was very rude.

(“Your mom is dead, kid. A lad found her body in a dumpster this morning,” the guy had said as soon as she had sat down in the headmistress’ office. “Do you know who she worked for? Or on what side of the Camellia she stayed?” He had asked, halfheartedly.

Mei had shaken her head, even though she did; you don’t talk to cops in Gotham, mom always says said that it was the easiest way to get yourself killed, for people like them.

“Alright,” he had said, not surprised. “A social worker is going to pick you up in a bit to take you to your new home, kid.”

With that he had walked out of the office, not looking back. As if where she would end up was going to be home.)

She remembers that the social worker from CPS was a brunette with tan skin, and looked really overworked, but had a kind smile.

By the end of the day, she was taken to Elliot's Hall for Children, an overcrowded, understaffed orphanage with more kids than they could realistically care for.

(They don’t care for the children, they just put them there for a while and act as they do. Most children leave after a couple of days, and if they don’t, they get taken anyway.

Some come back with a police escort, some manage to survive in the streets, and nobody talks about the ones that are never seen again.

You don’t work there because you love children, and if you do, you don’t last for very long.)

Mei wasn’t stupid, her mother told her stories about those kinds of places. She came from those kinds of places, and Mei saw how the man in charge here had looked at her when the social worker dropped her off.

She wasn’t going to just stand here and wait for him to sell her back in Camellia street. Or worse, to the Candy Dealers.

Taking with her what she absolutely couldn’t leave behind, Mei made a choice her mother hadn’t been able to and took her chance with the streets.

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

Mei was a Camellia kid and, as such, took to the streets easier than most newcomers. She had picked up a few tricks from her aunties and her mom, and it helped her to survive out here.

The only (glaring) differences were the absence of her mother, the lack of a permanent roof above her head, and the fact that she had to provide food and money herself now.

(One of her favorite places to pick up wallets was Gotham Academy, where Gotham’s rich send their children. The kids always had money on them, and it’s not like they would miss it.

Though she couldn’t go too many times in a row, not without risking being spotted and remembered.)

She had been on the streets for two months when she met Jason Todd; the boy who would become her family.

She heard him before she saw him, to be honest. It was an awful crashing noise coming from around the corner, and it made her look.

He was running like the devil was after him, and judging by how the cops running behind him were clutching their batons, she wasn’t that far from the truth.

The noises were because of a couple of trash cans the boy had spilled in their way to slow them down.

And he was coming her way.

Against her better judgment, she grabbed his arm when he passed in front of her, and pulled him behind her into her hideout. Quickly getting the plank of wood back in place, she put her hand on his mouth before he could say anything. With the dumpster in the alley, the entry was almost invisible from outside.

They stayed there as they heard the men pass in front of their hiding place, listening as they argued about where the boy could have disappeared before their voices faded completely.

They waited another couple of minutes before he removed the hand she still had on his mouth and crawled out of there.

“Thanks,” he muttered with a scowl. “I woulda’ve been just fine without help but… yeah, anyway.” Then he had started to walk in the direction he came from.

“Hey! Wait!” She said before she could think about it. “Are ya just gonna, like, go? Just like that?”

“Huh, yeah? What do ya want me to do?” He asked, looking back at her from above his shoulder without stopping his walk. “Stay to drink a cup of tea and talk about the weather?”

“Well.. no. But I just… I just wanna talk a bit, ya know?” She couldn’t really explain why she didn’t want him to leave yet, it’s not like he was the first street kid she had helped out. He just felt different, and somehow she knew he could become important to her.

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed before turning his head back to look forward. “The streets are not some daycare for princesses who want to make friends, kid.”

“Kid— hey, dumbass, you’re, like, ten years old! You’re a kid too! And I’m not a princess, I can survive alone just fine!” Before she knew it, she was walking behind him, the weird feeling forgotten for the offence his comment created. He looked back at her with a frown, before choosing to ignore her. Not letting that deter her, she rambled at him about all the ways why she wasn’t a kid any more than him.

“I thought you could survive alone?” He said, talking over her, when he realized that she wasn’t going to let him be.

“I can.”

“So why are ya following me? Tryin’ to drive me crazy?”

“Well, no. It’s just... that I can do it doesn't mean I want to.”

“Look, kid,” he said, ignoring her protest and talking over her, again. “You should just go back to whatever orphanage you came from, there is probably some nice little family who's gonna pick you up. Then you could make all the friends you want.”

“Like people actually adopt kids in this city. This is Gotham, you dummy, not ‘Annie’. Some rich white guy isn’t going to come and pick up children from the streets to make them live the Grand life.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” he growled out without pausing in his steps. “Still, you’re pretty enough, I’m sure some nice people would adopt you in a second if you let them.”

“Yeah, sure. Mom thought the same when she was a kid, and guess what? She started working on Camellia street when she was fourteen, but nobody asked her if she wanted to. Because she was pretty enough,” the little seven years old spat with venom, her eyes narrowed. The boy stopped walking, turning toward her with eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights. “Her best friend wasn’t, but mom said that she had the prettiest green eyes ever. When they found her body, she didn’t have eyes anymore, because some rich person paid to have pretty green eyes.”

“I— I didn’t—” he stuttered, eyes wide. With his scowl gone he looked so much younger, and Mei’s anger subdued. He wasn’t that much older than her, just a couple of years, maybe three or four, after all.

“It’s… okay, I guess. It’s Gotham. I just thought we both would have more chances to survive if we helped each other out. And, ya know, the company wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, but when they resumed walking he slowed down enough to let her walk beside him without almost-running.

“Great! So, Annie, where are we going now?” She said with a beaming smile, bursting into laughter at his indignation and protest against the nickname.

(“Can’t you stop calling me Annie already?! I told you my name’s Jason!”

“Nope, Annie.”

“Well, then, that makes you Sandy, doesn't it? Ya do follow me around like a stray puppy.”

“I’m not a dog— wait, hold on a minute! I knew you saw the movie! You liar!”)

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

She was ten when her life was put upside down once again, in the worst of ways.

It took practically no time before Jason “Annie” Todd became her brother in all but blood, it took longer for Jason to admit it, and they spend almost three years surviving together, barring the occasional trip back to the Children's Houses.

Though, they always found each other a couple of days after they escaped from those places.

Sometimes, Jason would plan something that he needed to do alone. Because of course, he did.

(“It’s the best job, my plan is perfect. Don’t worry, it’s gonna be great Sandy!”

“Yeah, and why can’t I come?”

“It’s too dangerous! Plus, you need to stay here and keep our things safe!”

“Yeah, if you say so, Annie.”)

That day was one of those days.

He was gone for less than an hour when they found her.

The Candy Dealers.

Mei paled when she saw them, wearing their nice suits and overly sweet smile. They told her they were social workers, specializing in homeless children, and offered her a lollipop. Social workers in Gotham don’t give candy to the kids, even the nice ones, and she knew from her time in Camellia street that the lollipop was drugged.

(“Never, ever, take candy from a Candy Dealer, Mei. Do you understand me? Never,” her mother told her gravely. “They put bad stuff in them, and if you put it in your mouth, they will take you away from me. I couldn’t live without you in my life, my little flower.”)

She tried to run, even before the first one got his hand totally outstretched toward her. But her panic made her stumble, and she was no match for them.

She tried to kick, and scream, and bite, but soon she felt a pinch in her neck, and everything was black.

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

The next period of her life was one she tried very hard to forget. For months she was moved, her and dozens of other people, from containers to containers, warehouse to warehouse. Twice they were put in a boat, the containers staying closed for so long, the next time she saw the moonlight, it burned her eyes.

She quickly learned that it was pointless to try to escape (and that Jason wouldn’t come and save her).

Then, one night, the place they were at was illuminated with blue and red lights and the police sirens were so loud, they drowned everything else.

She didn’t let herself hope, though. (She did, she hoped so hard her chest hurt.)

They (probably) weren’t in Gotham anymore, but her childhood didn’t instill her much trust in the police.

They did get them out. And she learned that they were in Paris now. In France. (That was a long way from Gotham.)

There were twenty-seven other people with her in the container. Four of which were kids, and only one other was also an orphan. They weren’t placed together, though. Because the kid had family back where he came from. Unlike her. (She had Jason. He was her family, but they didn’t listen.)

The French social workers took a while to know what to do with her exactly, but they didn’t want to send her back to Gotham (why not? She wanted to go back and find Jason!). So, in the meantime, they placed her in a foster family—one without any other kid, as per her therapist's advice. (The therapist didn’t know anything. She said Gotham wasn’t good for her, but Jason was in Gotham.)

Funnily enough, it ended up being a more permanent solution than previously considered, because the foster parents, Tom and Sabine, quickly fell in love with the little girl.

Not before long, Mei Leyton became Marinette Dupain-Cheng. (They changed her name to give her a ‘new beginning’ because her therapist thought it would be good for her. She didn’t want to have a ‘new beginning', she wanted to go back, to find Jason, to be the Sandy to his Annie. She was Mei, the Camellia’s kid, Sandy, the street’s kid and it was enough for her. She didn’t want to be Marinette, the bakers’ kid.)

So, when Mei was first put into the care of the Dupain-Cheng household, she regularly tried to run away. It was unsurprisingly harder than in Gotham, though. Tom and Sabine were way more attentive than Elliot Hall’s staff ever was, and more than a third of her tentatives were folded even before she was past the front door.

It took her three months (and forty-three unsuccessful tentatives) before she finally accepted that there would be no way for her to go back to Gotham. (Not that she had known how she would manage to do that before, her plan never got that far.) It took another six months before Tom and Sabine trusted her enough to let her wander the neighborhood alone.

The first thing she did the day her ‘new parents’ let her go to the library alone was to get to a public computer, and look Jason up. She didn’t really think she would find anything when she typed Jason Todd and Gotham in Google that day (maybe an obituary). She definitely didn't think she would find her best friend (brother) on the covers of so many tabloids declaring that he was Bruce Wayne’s ward.

She didn’t know how she should feel about the fact that he proved her wrong and became some real-life Annie. She wanted to feel angry, or hurt. Even more so when she realised that Wayne adopted him not even a full week after her (kidnapping) departure from Gotham, but…

But seeing Jason in the pictures… He looked so angry. Angrier than she ever saw him. And hurt. There was hurt hidden in his expression. It was well hidden but she could see it. (She did that, she was the one that hurted him. He probably thought she left him. That she wasn’t any better than his deadbeat of a father and abandoned him. What if he hates her now, because she was gone for so long?)

She needed to go back to Gotham, find him, and explain everything. She needed to tell him she didn’t want to leave him behind, that he was her family, and that it would never change. But Tom and Sabine didn’t want to take her back there, not before she was older, because she wasn’t ready yet, they said.

She didn’t care, though. No matter how long it would take her, she was going to go back. So, she slowly started to act like the perfect little girl. She didn’t really change, she just stopped bringing up Gotham so much, started to help more often in the house and at the bakery, and started to call Tom and Sabine Papa and Maman. (It wasn’t real, at first. But then, they just crawled into her heart against her will and became family. They didn’t replace her Mom or Jason, though. Nobody ever will.)

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

She started to heal. Slowly, without even realising. She opened up to a couple of children at her school, made friends with Nino, and sort of Frenemies (more enemy than friend, though) with Chloé Bourgeois. She picked up hobbies like sewing and designing, baking with Tom, or learning various martial arts with Sabine.

But she didn’t forget, going back to Gotham was still her ultimate goal. Until the news reached her, when she was twelve.

Jason Todd was dead.

Her best friend, her brother in everything but blood, her Annie. Dead. Jason was dead.

She felt like a part of her died with him, reading the words but not really processing. She let herself drown in her grief, closing up to everyone around her. Surprisingly, Chloé was the one that made her react. Literally slapping her to make her come back from the dead. (Not entirely, though. Mei, the Gothamite part of her, stayed dead with Jason. Only Marinette, the nice little parisian, came back.)

“I don’t really know what’s up with you, Dupain-Cheng,” she had said while Marinette cradled her sore cheek, her faux-contempt badly hiding her worry. “But you need to put yourself together. Tormenting you is no fun if you don’t react to it, and people are too worried for you to be afraid of me. Don’t make me call daddy on you.”

“I…” She had started, only to stop herself. She had looked back at Nino and Kim, both of whom were looking at her with poorly concealed worry. “Yeah, sorry Chloé.”

She pulled herself out of the worst of it after that, at the obvious relief of the people around her. None of which even knew why she was in this state. She still cried herself to sleep most nights, and sometimes felt like someone gouged out her heart with their bare hands, but she also started to let herself think of the good times. Started to let herself feel the good things happening around her, in the present.

Then, she saved the life of an old man, found magic earrings and a bug-mouse-kwami in her room that told her that she needed to become a hero and save Paris.

She thought of her big brother, of how he would always protect her when someone tried to rob them. Hide her, before even thinking of himself, when the cops would chase them down, trying to bring them back to Elliot's Hall. Give her all the food when they couldn’t get enough for the both of them. How he was a hero. Her Hero. And, really, there was only one thing she could say to that.

“Tikki, spots on!”

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

So. That's it. That was fun. I'm going to sleep now, goodnight.

Btw, Jason's super plan that day was totaly to steal the Batmobile's tires.

[golden-barnes]

Plum tarts and red carnations

Pairing: Florist! Bucky Barnes x F! Reader

Summary: Bucky is enamored with one of the employees of the bakery in front of his store.

Category: Fluff

Warning:s some self-doubting thoughts and cursing .

Word count: 2.5k

Author’s note: I have been thinking about this since that one anon and thank you @buckycuddlebuddy because you helped to inspire me further with this. Also think of Bucky as Beefy because I'm a softy for a gentle giant. Comment and reblog pls and thank you!

“Damn Jerry. You’ve been growing nicely. A little bit more, and you will be ready to find a new home, bud.” Bucky whispered to the little sprout he was watering. Bucky loved his morning routine.

Before opening up his shop, he would check on his nursery. Water the plants in his greenhouse, checking them to see how they have grown. He liked talking to them; they never judged him or ignored him. He even named them. Sam would help, too, though he treated it more as a joke.

After checking on the nursery, he would focus on making bouquets and arrangements for the store. Nobody knew he was the one who made those beautiful arrangements, and he liked it.

It was like therapy for him. Matching the flowers and creating bouquets with meaning was a talent Bucky didn’t know he had. By this point, the shop was opened and ready for business.

While preparing a rose bouquet, he saw a woman in an apron running out of the new coffee shop from the table next to the cash register. Oh shit, she’s pretty. He thought. He kept staring at her and forgot the fresh roses next to him, grabbed one carelessly.

“Fuck.” He accidentally pricked his finger with a thorn. He applied pressure to his wounded finger.

“Oh, are you okay, sir?” The pretty woman from the bakery asked. Bucky didn’t notice her entering the shop, and now she was here. Looking disheveled but incredibly beautiful.

“Yeah, happens all the time. What can I help you with?” He said, trying to sound as composed as possible. He could hear Sam’s voice in his head. “Play it cool, Buck.”The woman let out a sigh.

“I’m co-owner of the coffee shop, and it’s our opening day. I was encharged of the decorations, and I ordered some flowers from this other place, but when they got here, they were horrible. Like really bad. And oh god, I’m rambling, but I need a brand new arrangement.” She said all in one breath. Bucky had to fight a smile from appearing. Adorable.

“It’s okay. What colors did you want?” Bucky asked. The woman smiled at him.

“We wanted white and purples. Something simple. But honestly, I know nothing of flowers. I don’t understand why Wanda put me up with this? Now we are late, and I still have to finish decorating the cupcakes.” She explained while Bucky started to search for the flowers in his shop.

“Lilacs, with white peonies and lavender roses, would make a nice bouquet. How does that sound?” Bucky showed her the flowers he was referring to. The woman gasped.

“Oh, they are so pretty! You, sir, are a genius.” She gushed, still looking at the flowers. Bucky felt his cheeks getting red from receiving praise.

“I can bring it to you,” Buckywhispered, afraid that she might not like that idea. “You know, because you still have some stuff to finish, so you can do it, and I’ll bring it to you in less than 10 minutes.” She looked at him and went to hug him. Bucky tensed, not expecting the hug, but soon relaxed.

“You are literally my hero. Just ask for Y/N,” She said, walking towards the exit. “Wait, what’s your name?” She added, opening the door to leave.

“Bucky.” Y/N smiled at him. “See you later, Bucky.”

Bucky has never worked on an arrangement as hard as this one. He was already meticulous, but he really wanted to impress Y/N. Can you blame him? The pretty girl needed his help, and he wanted her to be happy. He even added some baby’s breath and this new white ribbon that had come in for weddings. He was very proud of it but also very nervous.

With a deep breath, Bucky entered the coffee shop. A brunette was at the door, cleaning the tables.

“Sorry, Sir. We are still aren’t open.” She said. Bucky gulped.

“Uhm. I’m looking for Y/N.” He told her; she looked at the flowers in his hands and understood. She yelled for Y/N, who came out of the kitchen with icing on her check, giving him the brightest smile.

“Hey, Bucky! That’s beautiful! How did you make such a pretty arrangement in less than 20 minutes?” She grabbed the vase out of his hands and set it on the counter. Bucky blushed and scratched his neck, shying away.

“It’s nothing.. I’m just happy you liked it.”

“How much do I owe you?” She asked. Bucky put his hands up.

“Oh, it’s on the house. Don’t worry. Call it a welcome gift.” He explained; Y/N jumped and gave him another hug. This time Bucky wrapped his arms around her.

“You are the nicest person on this fucking planet. I have to make it up to you. What’s your favorite fruit?” She pulled away from him and looked at Bucky in the eye. Bucky felt his breath hitch, and his palms get sweaty.

“I-I like plums.” He stuttered. She gave him a big smile and handed him a cookie.

“Hmm, I can make something with that.” She winked at him.

-

“I still haven’t named you, but honestly, I don’t know. You look like a Janelle, but also, I feel like that doesn’t fit.” Bucky said to the new cactus that arrived yesterday, in the afternoon.

“I think she looks like a Lucille.” Bucky turned around and saw Y/N with a box in hand.

“Oh, hi.” He felt embarrassed. She had heard him talk to his plants. Not even Steve had seen that. It was his private thing.

“She’s cute. What type of cactus is it?” She looked at it, not looking weirded out or anything.

“It’s called a Bishop’s cap. They grow to be very pretty and sprout a yellow flower. Not very popular in the shop, but there’s this new cactus crazy going on, and I thought to stock up.” Bucky explained, putting the cactus down next to the others.

“Do you name all your plants?” Bucky gulped and turned around to face her.

“Yeah, and talk to them too.” Bucky fought the urge to punch himself. Why would he say that? Fuck, now she is gonna think he is a fucking weirdo.

Much to his surprise, she smiled at him. She suddenly remembered the box she brought and opened it.

“For saving me yesterday, I made you a plum tart.” She opened it and pulled out the tart. Bucky felt his heart beating faster, and his hands get clammy.

“You didn’t have to.” “Ah! I beg to differ. Everyone that walked into our shop loved the flowers. They were really something. Like I couldn’t stop looking at them. So I had to show you my gratitude the only way I know how. With treats.”

“I couldn’t possibly eat that all alone. Want to share?” Bucky asked, giving her puppy eyes so she wouldn’t say no.

“You drive a hard bargain, Bucky. Has anyone ever told you can get away with murder with those eyes?” Y/N joked.

“I think my grandma’ probably said it. I have some silverware in the shop’s kitchen. When you have to be at your shop?” Bucky said, signaling her to follow him.

“I’m on break—perks of being the boss.” She explained while Bucky grabbed a few paper plates, forks, and a knife. She grabbed the knife and cut a big piece, and gave it to Bucky. Then she cut a piece for herself.

Bucky took a bite and accidentally let out a moan.

“I take it; you like it.” She winked at Bucky. He diverted his gaze from her. Why the fuck did I do that? Bucky screamed internally.

“It’s delicious. I can see why your shop has been packed since yesterday. Reminds me of my ma’s.” Bucky admitted.

“I’m glad, but I can’t take all the credit. You should see the coffee mixes Wanda came up with. They are the real star.” Bucky smiled at her. Nice and pretty… She let out a cough.

“How did you get really good with plants? Like sorry for the personal question, but you have a talent.” She inquired.

“Well, uhm. After getting discharged, my friend Sam suggested that I take classes to handle stress and PTSD. One of the classes was gardening, and I just found it so calming. So I started taking more courses and learning ‘till I decided to start my own business. I don’t think I could ever work anywhere else.” Bucky noticed her staring at him. “What?” He said, smiling awkwardly at her.

“Nothing. Just thinking about how you are the nicest man I’ve ever meet.” She said nonchalantly. Bucky chuckled.

“It’s nothing major. I just found my calling.” Bucky stated.

“I feel the same. I baked a lot in college, and then suddenly I was like fuck, this is what I want to do for the rest of my life.” She recalled. Her eyes glowed under the light of the kitchen.

“I felt the same way when I started this shop.” Bucky admitted, she bit back a smile.

“By the way, I like the name—Howling’s flowers. Oh, and how pretty this store is, it looks like I walked in a magical forest.” She complimented.

“I- thanks. I named my store after my squad and the decor well; that’s kind of an embarrassing story.” Bucky chuckled nervously. She rolled her eyes.

“Oh, please. I own a coffee shop named Magic café, and all of our items are named after magical things. I am the last person to judge.” Bucky bit his lip nervously while listening to her.

“I based it on The Hobbit. It was my favorite book when I was younger, and I just couldn’t imagine decoring this store anyway else.” Y/N looked at him with an open mouth.

“Okay, are you government android? Because you are friendly, great with plants and well-read. You are too good to be true.” She laughed. Bucky needs to find a way to blush less in her presence because this is like the fourth or fifth time it has happened.

They finished eating their pieces of tart and talking for a while. Y/N decided to go back to the shop, not realizing how much time she spent there. Before leaving, Bucky gave her some more lavender roses.

“Oh, Bucky, you don’t have to.” She protested.

“It’s just to add to the arrangement. I feel like it was missing a few more roses. You’ll be doing me a favor.” He assured. She grabbed the flowers and smelt them before smiling and giving him a small thanks.

Little did she know that lavender Roses mean love at first sight.

They played that little game for weeks, almost 2 months. Y/N would take her lunch break at Bucky’s shop. Feed him some food and pastries that she was experimenting with, and he would give her flowers.

“To put on the counter. Your store deserves fresh flowers every day.” Bucky claimed. But in actuality, all the flowers meant something. The white camellias? He was telling her that he admired her. The amaryllis? That he found you beautiful. The white and purple stocks? A silent plea for bonds of affection from your part. But he couldn’t bring himself to say these things out loud.

Speaking to Y/N in flowers was much easier. Maybe because she didn’t know and couldn’t reject him.

“Bucky, you gotta tell her, man.” Steve would try to reason with him. “She likes you; you like her. Just tell her that you like her or ask her out on a date.”

“You don’t get it, Steve.” Bucky would argue, which led to an entire discussion on how Bucky is being a coward that ended with him telling Steve and Sam to fuck off.

But they were right; it was simple. She has been an absolute doll with him. She doesn’t mind hearing his rants about the new book he read and helped him water his plants. She even bought waterproof labels to put their names on their planters. She even asked (more like demanded) Bucky to send her the pictures of every bouquet and arrangement he made. She loved seen his creations.

And he loved being her test subject. She would bring him new pastries to try. He was her official taste tester. Anything new in the store, Bucky had already tried it in every one of its variations. Y/N would speak to him of all of her special interests and all of her new hobbies. He had even met all her friends, and they loved him.

So why was this so difficult? Bucky groaned while arranging the flowers at the front of the shop.

“What’s got you all groaning and gloomy, Bucky-bear?” Y/N asked him. She looked radiant in her work clothes. Ugh, Bucky had it bad.

“Nothing, j-just thinking.” He nervously replied.

“Don’t overthink. You might over-heat your brain, bubs.” She joked, entering Bucky’s shop. And like the hopeless romantic he is, he followed.

“Soooooooo I have been trying out this new pasta recipe, and you are the only one I trust to give me the truth.” She said, opening the Tupperware she brought. Bucky’s heart fluttered at her words. He felt light-headed; maybe that’s why he couldn’t stop himself from opening his mouth.

“I like you.” He blurted out. He slapped his hand over his mouth. Y/N turned to him, widen eyes, and mouth gaped.

“Bucky, do you mean that? Because if you are playing with me, I will fight you with this.” She warned Bucky, threatening with a spoon.

“I like you a lot. Actually love you. I- that’s what those flowers meant.” Bucky explained. Y/N put down the spoon.

“What flowers?” She asked, in the softest tone he has ever heard her speak in. Bucky turned his gaze to the floor, embarrassed that this was his confession.

“All of them. They all meant love in one form or the other.” He admitted. Y/N stood in front of him and put her hand on his cheek. He felt his heart do backflips.

“What flower means I’m in love with you, Bucky?” She asked, caressing his cheek.

“Maybe red carnations.” He joked, leaning into her touch.

“I’ll ask this handsome florist with a heart of gold to make me a bouquet to give you.” Bucky chuckled while she let out a little giggle.

“I would love a bouquet, but I would much rather have a plum tart from the sexy baker on the store out front.” Y/N hummed.

“I think I can make that happen.” She said, pulling him closer. “Can I kiss you, Bucky?” She asked; Bucky could only nod.

She grabbed his face and pressed her lips against his. Bucky wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer, molding her body against him. Their lips gliding over each other smoothly, as if they were made for each other.

They pulled away to take a breath, and they both had the same dopey smile. Tarts and carnations. Who knew they mixed so well?

[wormstacheangel]

part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 all of these are short so enjoy <3

Dean wasn’t sure where he stood with Cas, and he hated every fucking second of it.

He looked at his watch again, it’s only been a little less than an hour since Cas and Sam left on their stupid double date, but he already felt like he was crawling up the walls. He was pacing the room, trying to figure out what he could have said to stop Cas from going and wondering why Cas accepted the damn date in the first place.

Was he not enough?

It hasn’t even been three days since Dean finally said the big L word to him. Did Cas not hear him? Did he think he was fucking joking? Was the tongue down his throat not enough proof that Dean was over the fucking moon to finally have Cas. Have him in a way he never thought was going to be possible for them.

Why? Why did he go?

Maybe he was a lousy kisser? No. No, he’s an awesome kisser! But what if-

Dean jumps at the sound of his ringtone and answers it without looking at who it is.

“Dean.” He heard the familiar annoyed voice call his name in a low growl. “Stop.”

It took a second for Dean to understand what was going on. “Cas? Dude, why are you calling me? Shouldn’t you be entertaining your stu-your date?”

“I can’t. You are being insufferable.”

Dean was taken back by the words. Did he actually send all those texts he thought about sending?

“I know you tend to forget, Dean, but I can feel your longing, and it is distracting.” Oh! Oh. Shit. “What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong? What’s wrong? What the fuck do you think is wrong? That’s what Dean should have said but instead, “Nothing.” He is a coward, first and foremost. At least, when it comes to Cas, he was.

“You are giving me too much of a headache for it to be nothing.” Cas sighed, and Dean noticed the background noise quiets down on Cas’s end. “Are you okay? Should I come home?”

Yes! “No!” Dean quickly waves him off as if Cas could see him. “Stay. Have a fun time with your um, with your date.”

Cas doesn’t say anything for a long 20 seconds--Dean had to check if he hung up--before he sighs. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Goodbye.”

No. Not, goodbye. “I’ll see you later, okay? I’ll wait up for you so we can...talk. About you finally having your first date. Look at you, back from the dead and in the game. Good on you, Cas.”

“I would like that.” Silence again. Dean was about to hang up when he heard, “It’s not my first date.”

“What?”

“You said this is my first date, but it’s not.” Dean was about to tease him. To remind him that the date with the reaper or the one with him as a babysitter didn’t count but Cas beat him to the next words. “I like my dates with you more.”

Dean’s heart skips, and he thinks he misheard him, but before he can ask Cas to repeat it. The line goes dead, and Dean is left pacing the floor again. Wondering if the heat on his cheeks was ever going to go away.

“Am I--Is Cas...Am I being played?” Dean fell into his bed with a groan. Still left confused on where he stood with Cas.

--(More under the tag)

Cas is doing it again.

He’s acting as if he didn’t just come back from a date with this...Lucy person and pretending that everything is so damn peachy. He was sitting on the other side of Dean’s bed, once again head resting on Dean’s shoulder as if it had now become a nice habit of his. He welcomed the weight, the warmth of Cas pressed beside him, of course. He is just so damn confused.

“You know,” Cas looked up at him, his nose pressed to Dean’s jaw. “You’re the one that asked how my night went. So I sort of expected you to, you know, listen.”

He was listening. Listening to every damn word Cas spoke because, of course, he didn’t miss a single detail. He talked about the food, bland he described it, and Eileen picked off his plate. He talked about how Lucy laughed when he didn’t say anything funny, and Sam insisted that it meant she liked him. He talked about how he wasn’t sure if he liked these fancy places; he was used to the noise of diners and kind waitresses refiling his coffee when he didn’t need to ask.

But just now, he was just rambling on about how smart, kind, and great Lucy was. Did he use any of those words? No, but he might as well be kissing the floor she walked on by the way he talked about her.

“Dean?” Cas reached over, the palm of his hand laying flat on the side of Dean’s face. “You okay?”

Yes. “No.”

Wait. He was supposed to say the opposite.

Cas sat up to look at him better, and Dean missed the weight of him already. Wanting to reach over and pull him back in, he also might as well say what he thought so they can move on from this because he was so fucking tired of this.

They are so close, and shit will not happen if Dean keeps rambling in his head instead of talking out loud. Like Sam says--or better yet, what he is trying to drill in his head--communication is the key to a healthy relationship. Right now, he just wants a fucking relationship.

Dean looks at Cas; sad sky eyes stare back at him. Filled with questions that maybe he was also afraid to ask, but it’s Dean’s turn to make a move this time. At least he thinks so. He wasn’t sure when they started taking turns, but fuck, he missed Cas tonight and hates that someone else got to have a romantic night with him.

Without another thought, Dean pulled at the stupid bowtie and dragged Cas forward until their lips met for another long-awaited kiss. The tug may have choked an actual person, but luckily, Cas didn’t seem to find a problem with it as he moved closer to deepen the kiss.

Tell me you didn’t kiss her. Tell me you don’t want to see her ever again. Tell me you want me. Only me. Tell me...tell me you love me.

“I love you.” Dean hears himself say. It was desperate as his grip on Cas tightened; he could feel his fingers dig into Cas’s waist as he pulled him forward until his whole weight was on top of him. Cas starts to pull away, probably wanting to look at him again, but Dean keeps his eyes closed as he cranes his neck up to catch Cas’s lips. Wanting to feel, to pretend, that Cas only was his.

Cas kisses back for a second or two, longer, but it didn’t take much strength for him to pull back to look at Dean. Eyes filled with concern as he let Dean roll him into his back.

“Say it back, damn it.” Dean starts undoing the bowtie and fumbles with Cas’s buttoned shirt as he noses the stubble on the angel’s jaw. “Cas, say it.”

“I love you.” Cas takes Dean’s face between his large hands and forces him to look at his sad eyes again. “I love you, Dean. So tell me, what’s wrong?”

Dean didn’t try to pull away; instead, he fell against Cas’s body. Laying all his weight on him, knowing damn well Cas could take it, he probably weighed nothing to him. Like a feather.

Dean’s face tucked into Cas’s neck as he felt those fingers in his hair, soothing them before he rubbed his back. Probably trying to figure out which one was more comforting, but for Dean, any soft touch from him will do.

This is stupid. Desperate. Pathetic. But he needs to ask.

“Am not enough for you?”

“What?”

Dean doesn’t move from his hiding spot. Not wanting Cas to see his face as he talks. “Why’d you say to a date with someone else? I thought we were...I know I’m not good at all this, but I thought we were--at least, I was trying.” Dean shoved his face closer into his throat until he could feel Cas’s heartbeat against his nose. “I was trying, Cas!”

“I know!” Cas’s hands tighten on his Dean’s shoulders as if he was going to push him away, but then he stopped himself. “I only said yes because I figured it was what you wanted.”

“What?” Dean mumbled into Cas’s skin before he pushed himself up just enough to stare down at him. Repeating himself. “What?”

“The day after we kissed, you ignored everyone, including me. I thought you were...ashamed. Maybe you wanted to keep things private. So to keep Sam from suspecting us-”

“You said yes to a date.” Dean finished for him while Cas slowly nodded. Looking at him as if fighting with himself to not read Dean’s thoughts. Probably best he didn’t. He’ll just hear screaming. Dean sighed in relief as he fell into Cas again, relaxing as Cas’s arms wrapped around him. “Dumbass.”

“I didn’t mean to make you doubt my feelings for you. But to be fair, how can you possibly doubt my feelings for you? I died so that I can say them.”

“Actually, I thought you changed your mind cause I sucked at kissing.”

“You do not suck.”

“Thanks.” Dean chuckled, kissing Cas’s bare chest. His cheeks were warming up as his mind just caught up with his action. “Sorry.”

“I should be the one-”

“No, Cas. Me. I made you think I wanted to hide us.” Dean lifted his head again, looking down at Cas, who gave him a soft, warm smile. “I don’t. Maybe I was a little nervous, but that’s cause you kept acting like me holding your dumb hand was like...normal or whatever.”

“I thought if I make a big deal of it, then you’ll freak out.” Damn. Got him there. And yet, he still freaked out. “But I see now that we should have...talked about it?”

“Yeah.” Dean chuckled as he realized how stupid they both had been. “Yeah, that probably would have helped.”

Cas surprised him by reaching up to give him a hesitant kiss. His eyes were bright as they sparkled when Dean met the familiar gaze.

“We can um,” Dean clears his throat nervously as he keeps his eyes on Cas. “We can talk later.”

“Later. Later is good.”

“Good.”

Cas reaches to kiss him again, bringing him down until they are lost in each other.

--

The next morning Dean woke up with a spring in his step, and Sam noticed right away.

“What’s up with you?” He raised his eyebrows at him, teasing him with a smile. “Had a fun night with Scooby?”

“Watched Animaniacs, for your information.” Dean poured two cups of coffee. “And no. I had the most perfect company last night.”

Sam opened his mouth before squinting at him. “Did you-? Wait, did you bring a girl over to the bunker?”

“No!” Dean said just as Cas walked in, wrapped in nothing but Dean’s robe. “There you are. Thought you were gonna follow me.”

Dean walked over to hand Cas his coffee, kissing his cheek before walking back to get his own cup.

“I was. You neglected to tell me I wasn’t wearing clothes. So I had to go find something to cover up.” Cas sat in front of Sam who stared at them with wide eyes. “Morning, Sam.”

It took Sam a few seconds before he muttered. “I hate you guys. I mean, congratulations, but fuck you. Didn’t need that image in my head so early in the morning.”

Dean sat beside Cas, shoulders bumping, before he looked at Sam over the rim of his cup. “Now you can stop trying to set Cas up on dumb dates.”

“I had a fun time last night, Sam. Thank you.” Cas quickly said before looking back at Dean. “But I think I will just continue dating your brother instead.”

“Okay,” Sam got up, giving them both a tight smile and a thumbs up. “Congrats again. Next time wear underwear, Cas.”

“Stop looking at my boyfriend!” “I couldn’t find it.” Dean and Cas say at the same time.

Dean finally knows what Cas is to him.

“We should hurry if we want to beat the kids to the diner.” Cas gets up, kissing the top of Dean’s head as he goes. “I like this.”

“Me too.” Dean reaches for his hand, tangling their fingers together as he pulls Cas down for a kiss.

Best friend. Boyfriend. The light at the end of the tunnel.

“Love you.” Dean whispers against his lips, making Cas smile into the kiss.

“Love you, too.”

Everything. He’s everything.

[hrh-prince-butt]

okay fine, guys! i wrote the fic (based on this post)

-

Oscar Diaz didn’t know who he had expected to find at his doorstep at 10 in the morning, but it probably wasn’t the prince of England. 

“Henry! What the hell are you doing here?”

He looked like he was about to throw up. Or shit himself. Either way, he definitely looked like someone whose nerves were about to manifest through one hole or another. 

“Mr. Diaz.” Henry’s tone was weirdly formal. He took a deep breath, and thankfully no shit or vomit came. “I’m here to ask for your blessing to marry your son.” 

-

Oh God, this was a terrible idea. Henry was in half the mind to just turn around and run. He should not have done this. Why had he done this? It wasn’t like he needed anyone’s blessing to marry Alex. 

Mr. Diaz didn’t say anything, which made it all worse. He just crossed his arms and regarded Henry with an utterly unreadable look. Oh, Henry felt like he was going to faint. Desperate to fill the silence, he kept talking: 

“I, er… I have been planning to propose for a while. Bought the ring a few weeks ago. I’m either going to do it in the garden by the White House where we had our first kiss, or at this really romantic spot we both like. Obviously the first option is more sentimental, but the other place is sort of secluded and there’s this beautiful lake and…” He was well aware that he was rambling like an idiot, but he wasn’t sure he could stop himself. “I know that asking for the father’s blessing is quite old fashioned, and also it’s usually the father of the future bride, but-”

“Ay, it’s too early in the day for this many words,” Mr. Diaz said, interrupting Henry’s mortifying ramblings. “You’re going to run out of air.” 

Henry nodded, weirdly grateful for the intervention, and nervously waited for whatever would come next. 

“You know, Henry… I just don’t know if I can give you my blessing.” 

Oh no. Oh dear. This was going even worse than Henry had imagined. He should just run. Maybe they didn’t have to invite Mr. Diaz to the wedding. No, was absurd. They couldn’t just not invite Alex’s dad. No, Henry would just have to avoid him, at the wedding and for the rest of his life. 

“Why don’t you come in and have a beer with me?”

That was the last thing Henry wanted right now but, in spite of his own wishes, his legs started moving, forcing him into Mr. Diaz’s living room. 

-

Oscar set two beers down on the table and sat down facing Henry, who looked like he was actually about to faint. 

Was he taking this too far? He had thought it would be fun to mess with the prince, but the poor guy looked ready to get up and bolt from here.

Ah, what the hell, he thought. You only have the fun you make for yourself. 

“So,” he said. “What makes you think you’re good enough to marry my son?”

Oscar did almost feel bad, seeing the look on Henry’s face. To his credit, Henry quickly recovered, and met Oscar’s eyes with regained resolution. 

“I don’t know if I am,” he said. “But I love Alex. I love him so much. And if he wants to marry me, I will do everything I can, every day, to be someone who is good enough for him.” 

Well, damn. “Yeah, well, you know what I think, Henry?”

Oscar leaned back in his seat and took a long swig of his beer. There was something almost satisfying about keeping Henry practically vibrating with anticipation. Just for dramatic effect, and to really drive the performance home, he set the beer down as slowly as humanly possible, before finally looking back at Henry. 

“I can’t wait to get the wedding invitation.”

-

Henry’s brain was definitely not processing whatever was happening, but Mr. Diaz held up his beer and gestured for him to do the same. He had seemed dead serious just a moment ago, but now he was… grinning? Henry’s hands caught up faster than his mind, and he held up his own beer, more as a reflex than because he actually understood what was happening, and Mr. Diaz clinked his bottle against Henry’s.

“Er… sorry?”

“You have my blessing, Henry!” Mr. Diaz said, as though it was obvious. As though that’s what he had been telling him all along. “Of course you do.”

Henry blinked, slowly. “But… But I thought you said…?”

Mr. Diaz laughed heartily. “I was messing with you. Jesus, you’re a bit slow today, eh?”

Henry could feel the embarrassment colour his face a bright shade of red. “RIght. Yeah, I… Sorry.” 

He went to take a sip of his beer, at the same time as Mr. Diaz went for a friendly - but strong - clap on his back, which resulted in Henry’s beer spilling down his own shirt. Christ, this was the most embarrassing day of his life. When would his suffering end?

“Listen, mijo.” Mr. Diaz put a hand on his shoulder, and Henry really tried not to tense up and make even more of a fool of himself. “I can’t think of a better person marrying my son. Ah, well, maybe a few. But my point is, I’m happy it’s you, because I know Alex will be happy with you. And I guess you’re not the worst son-in-law I could ask for, either.”

Henry smiled, finally allowing himself to be relieved. “Thank you, sir.”

“I mean, you are so much fun to mess with. Seriously, that was great. You should’ve seen your face.” He laughed, leaning back in his chair a little. His laugh reminded Henry of Alex’s, full and genuine, and quite infectious. “Honestly, this’ll be great stuff for my speech at the wedding. Maybe even a story for the grandkids, eh?” 

God, Henry was never going to live this down. He could already picture Alex laughing at him when he heard the story. Even without the part where Mr. Diaz had been messing with him, Alex would find it hilarious that Henry had even asked for his blessing in the first place. 

He was going to propose to Alex. Suddenly, it felt very real. Much more real than it had, even when he bought the ring. Perhaps even a little too real for Henry’s liking. 

“You’re making that face again, like you’re about to faint or something. Everything okay?” Mr. Diaz asked.

Henry swallowed nervously. “Do you think he’ll say yes?”

He didn’t know what kind of response he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t for Mr. Diaz to burst out laughing. “Do I think Alex is gonna say yes when you propose to him? Jesus, Henry, do you even know the guy you’re marrying? Of course he is gonna say yes!”

When Henry still looked nervous, Mr. Diaz continued: “Alex loves you. It’s almost annoying. Whenever I speak to him it’s Henry this, Henry that. If you seriously think he might not want to marry you, you are an idiot.” 

Henry nodded, taking a deep breath. Yeah, he probably was an idiot, wasn’t he? “Mh. I think you’re right.”

“Yes, obviously. Now, c’mon, let’s have another toast.” Mr. Diaz raised his bottle again with a big smile. “To you and Alex. And to me, for blessing your union or whatever.” 

Henry grinned back. “To a very blessed union.”

[jaybird-redhood]

propinquity

wc: 2.2k

pairing: jason todd // gn reader

The first thing you think when you see him for the first time is that he has the cutest smile.

That’s a lie, the first thing you think it that he is so incredibly in shape, and it looks great on him, but the smile thing sounds better in your head.

He's moving into the apartment across from yours a month after you moved into yours. Weird, because the two people in your building closest to your age are 2 and 63, respectively.

You suppose that some wicked twist of fate must’ve brought this upon you for missing your cousin’s birthday party last week, because the guy standing across from you is crazy hot. And looking right at you. And you are in the huge neon Wonder Woman t-shirt that your best friend got for your birthday last year.

Yeah. Karma.

“Nice shirt,” the guy offers, holding in a grin. “You’re really making it work.”

“I-”

“See you around, neighbor.”

And with a shut of a door and an awfully charismatic smirk he’s gone.

The next time you see him is a week later, and this time- luckily, you think- you’re dressed somewhat put together. You run into him while unlocking your door.

"What's got you in a twist?" he asks.

"Um," you start, "I just. Ugh I have so much to do. Like 3 hours of homework, a lecture tomorrow that I cannot skip, and I'm completely out of bread and eggs and can't even you to the store until, like, Thursday at best."

Once you start rambling you can't seem to stop. You slouch against your door. You're not entirely sure why you're telling a stranger all this, but he seems to be listening, so you suppose that’s a good sign

"I get the feeling," he offers, and you look up at him. "I'm majoring in English Lit and my classes are kind of kicking my ass."

You give him a small smile, "Glad to know someone in this building is struggling as much as I am."

"Jason," he says, and he reaches his hand out to you. "My name."

You shake it and tell him yours.

As you both turn back into your respective apartments you think that he maybe isn't as intimidating as you thought.

~

The next day goes by with a really boring lecture and another 3 hours of work you need to do.

The ride home from uni isn't that long, but it's long enough for you to contemplate all the ways that your life went wrong after moving to Gotham. And, maybe as payback for thinking mean things about the city, rain that you think should belong to a category 3 hurricane starts to whip around your car 10 minutes into your drive.

Your clothes are dripping water in literal puddles by the time you get back to your apartment.

Groaning, you start fishing for your keys in your purse while walking up the last flight of stairs.

When you get to your door you stop. Right in front of it there’s a grocery bag. Picking it up and looking inside you see a loaf of bread and a small carton of milk.

You pick it up smiling.

“Jason?” you ask, knocking on his door.

No response.

You shrug and turn around. Remember to thank him the next time you run into each other; you think.

~

That next time doesn’t happen to be that long and thank goodness for you.

“You know, we really need to stop meeting like this,” he says to you.

You’re sitting on the floor outside of your door looking rather pathetic, and he’s giving you the most awful smirk you’ve ever seen. (Not that it looks bad on him though. You seem to think that nothing could really look that bad on him)

“I swear I’m usually more put together than this,” you sigh to him. “You moving here jinxed me!”

“Yeah yeah. You’re locked out, aren’t you?”

You give him your best withering I’m going to kill you stare, but it must not be working because he just laughs even harder at you.

“This is completely not my fault it’s just I lost my second set of keys like right when I moved in and then today when I got home, I accidentally left them in my car, but my second set of car keys is in my apartment so now I can’t get them out, stop laughing at me!”

“God you’re a mess,” Jason says- finally finished laughing at you and maybe taking a bit of pity on how disheveled you look. “You couldn’t call anyone to get you in?”

You shake your head.

“My friend is the only other person with a set, but they’re out of town, and our landlord is being a dick and telling me it’s my fault in the first place, so I need to deal with it. I’ve been sitting out here for like an hour.”

“All I’m hearing is that it is your fault and now you’re just moping about it feeling bad about yourself.”

You tilt your head against the door so hard that it makes you wince a bit.

“Ok fine,” he says crossing his arms.

“What?”

“Wait right here.”

He goes into his apartment and comes back out with a skinny metal thing you don’t recognize.

You look at him in confusion and he just motions for you to scoot out of the way as he sticks it in your locks and starts to pick it.

You sigh in relief.

“Thank you thank you thank you. For everything. I swear I will get my life together, so you don’t feel like you have to keep cleaning up my messes.

“I don’t mind,” he says with a small smile, “Take your time.”

And with that he opens the door to your apartment and turns back to his.

“By the way, you should really get better locks. That was way too easy.”

You make a note in your head to get that done sometime. As you’re lying on your couch that night, you’re AirDropped a photo on your phone. Saving it up you see it’s a piece of paper with neat handwriting on it: a phone number and a smiley face, Jason’s name at the bottom.

You smile too and add the number to your contacts.

~

Over the next few weeks, you and Jason start talking more, both over text and through the various times when you run into each other outside your doors.

Each interaction is better than the next, and you soon start to realize that Jason isn’t just some hot guy with no brains. He’s sweet and charismatic, has a whole wall full of bookshelves, could probably quote any classical novel by heart, has incredibly good taste in music, and best (or worst) of all, would make incredible friend material.

It’s just that as you become closer friends, you start to realize that that might not be all you want.

It’s a stupidly cold Friday morning when he texts you, and you’re covered in blankets and wrapped in sweatshirts in your bed. Movie at my place tonight?

You text back your approval and a quick be there at 6 before getting ready for classes.

The day goes by slower than you hoped.

It might be the anticipation of seeing Jason again, or more likely the hours of lectures you have to sit through, but you’re elated when your final class for the day gets let out.

The hours in between are a blur.

A blur which leads to the two of you sitting on his couch watching Romeo and Juliet together, a blanket thrown over your bodies.

You have the obligatory bowl of popcorn resting on your legs, and every few minutes Jason reaches across your lap to take a handful.

The way you’re laying half on top on him is completely deliberate, as to take as much of his body heat as possible. Your landlord had turned off heating 3 weeks prior to ‘save money’ or some other bullshit.

Jason’s not complaining though.

Once your popcorn bowl is finished and your head is in his lap, he runs his fingers through your hair absentmindedly. It might be the nicest feeling you’ve ever felt.

Throughout the movie you exchange snide comments about the plot back and forth. You start trying to say funny things whenever you can just to hear how sweet his laugh sounds to your ears.

By the end of the movie, you’re only slightly in tears, or so you tell yourself.

“Are you crying right now?” Jason asks incredulously, wearing a teasing smile.

“It’s not my fault,” you half say half moan, “Leonardo DiCaprio just has that effect on me.”

He just laughs and pulls you upright until you’re sitting on his lap.

His eyes are a shade of blue green that you’ve never seen before, although you could swear their getting greener by the second.

You watch his gaze drop down to your lips before staring you right in the eyes again.

“Can I kiss you?”

“God yes,” you tell him, and kiss him right back.

~

The next week is somewhat uneventful, even though you and Jason had been meeting each other almost every night, rotating apartments based on whose house was warmer each particular night.

Tonight is your night, and you’ve been waiting the whole day to show him the film you had rented to watch together.

The walk up to your door is easier than usual, and you have a bounce in your step that’s making you feel even more elated than normal taking out your keys to unlock your apartment.

You open your door and your bag drops. The keys clatter when they hit the hardwood, and the silence that follows is deafening.

“You’re bleeding on my carpet,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth.

There Jason is, bleeding quite profusely, and using your kitchen counter to keep himself vertical. He’s wearing what looks to be a torn half of a domino mask and an extremely hot leather jacket.

(Not that this was the time for noticing his fashion choices, but you filed that thought away for later.)

What really catches your eye though is the huge red bat symbol on his chest, and the red helmet next to it sitting on your counter.

He shifts a little to the side before stumbling through saying, “Um, so, I know this isn’t ideal and I’m really sorry to put you in this situation, but I seriously do not feel like bleeding out tonight and-”

“Oh my god this is great,” you cut him off with. “I thought you were a hit-man!”

“Wait what.”

“Shit no that’s not what I meant- kind of, hang on we should probably stop you from dying before having this conversation.”

You walk over to him to get a better look at his wounds.

“God Jace, you look like death warmed over.”

He just stares at you.

“You have a bunch of stuff in your bathroom, right?”

At least this elicits a reaction. He grimaces in pain but gives you a nod of his head in conformation.

“Ok I’ll be right back, don’t move.”

He gives you a look that says seriously, where would I go.

3 minutes later you’re back with a needle and thread, and some sterilizing spray.

“This should be fine,” you tell him, “I took a first aid class last year with my friends and passed with flying colors according to the nurse.”

“Just try to keep them tight and neat. I trust you,” he says, and your heart pounds just a little harder.

You respond with a nervous laugh but take a deep breath and start working.

~

An hour and a half later you’re done.

The combination of pain meds, bandages, and a whole lot of stitches eventually led to you and Jason laying in your bed together, both completely exhausted.

He turns his head to face you.

“Could we maybe go back to the hit-man thing?”

“Oh uh. Well I saw a bunch of shirts covered in blood in your laundry in the bathroom, not to mention all the weirdly specific first-aid you had,” you tell him.

“And also the assorted guns and knives you have hidden all over. I guess I just assumed? But the whole Red Hood thing is so much better,” you reassure him.

“You found all my knives?”

You smile up at him.

“I love that that’s thing you chose to focus on.”

“And you’re really not mad that I didn’t tell you about the whole vigilante thing before?” he asks.

“Jay, I had already resigned myself to life forever with some shady hit-man that also happened to be incredibly good looking. Red Hood is ten times better than that. I’m not going to run away from you just because you’re incredibly intimidating and probably could kill me. I see that as an added bonus,” you say, with as much charm as you can muster without yawning.

“Just. Be careful, ok? I’d hate to make this a routine.”

He responds by pulling you closer to his body.

“I promise,” he whispers into your head. “You really to remember to get better locks by the way, breaking in was still way too easy.”

You let out a small laugh and finally you let yourself give into sleep.

[lightsovermonaco]

Speed and Stress: Part 2

Masterlist

Thank you to @acollectionofficsandshit for betaing, your comments on this one were unhinged gold 

Word Count: 3.1k

Recommended Vibes: “Perfect Day” by Tundra Beats

Part 1

Your brother was late. Not that anyone was surprised.

“Got the time mixed up,” he says as you climb into his absurdly tall truck. Living in Texas for three years had turned him into somewhat of a country boy, though not enough that he forgot his upbringing. He was still a blue blooded Los Angeles boy, just with a love for trucks and longhorn cattle.

“At least I wasn’t waiting for an hour this time,” you say and sling your bag to the backseat. Deciding to get right to the good stuff, you clasp  your hands together. “So! I have some news.”

Hunter grins at you. “You finally found a job?”

You roll your eyes and shoot him a pointed look. “No, dipshit. Better than that. I got us paddock passes for the whole weekend.”

“WHAT?” He jerks the wheel, horns honking at you as other drivers swerve. You grab the dash to steady yourself, laughing at his outburst. “Do you know how hard it was for me to get general admission tickets? How the hell did you get paddock passes?”

“May have met someone pretty high up at McLaren in Los Angeles,” you say, examining your nails.

“Like, Zak Brown? You met Zak Brown?” Hunter was such a fan boy, you had to laugh. His love for McLaren ran so deep he practically bled blue and orange. The only reason you watched the sport was because of him shoving it down your throat for years, but damn if you weren't glad for it.

“Daniel Ricciardo.”

Hunter choked on air but managed to stay in his lane this time. “And you waited until now to tell me?”

“I didn’t know it was him when I met him! He was on a motorcycle and I stopped to help film a tiktok and then-”

“Of course you’d stop,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You’re a sucker for bikes.”

“Yeah well, lucky that I am, cause all I had to do was flirt to get us those passes.”

Your intention had never been to take advantage of Daniel. It was more the opposite in fact; you were just living in the moment and capitalizing on the once in a lifetime opportunity to flirt with your celebrity crush. You had to admit, it turned out better than you'd ever thought it would.

“I can’t believe you seduced Daniel freakin’ Ricciardo,” he says, shaking his head. “You astound me.”

“I didn’t seduce him!” You protest.

"Sorry my bad. You charmed him. That sound better?"

You roll your eyes. "Whatever. I damn near had a heart attack when I figured out it was him but he was kind enough to let me brush it off."

"Well, thank god for your two-wheeled obsession because without it, we would be watching the prix from the nosebleeds."

You laugh and shake your head. Hunter tended to have a poor filter when he was excited and tended to spew whatever was on his mind. "Just watch your tongue this weekend, alright? I'd rather embarrass myself than have you do it for me."

Hunter gives a mock salute. "Yes ma'am."

**********

You'd stuffed five different outfits in your bag in preparation for the grand prix weekend. In theory, it shouldn't be hard to decide what to wear. But Friday morning you changed clothes so many times you lost count. No matter what combination you tried you weren't satisfied.

Finally, you give up and settle on a McLaren polo and denim shorts. Simple and comfortable, but form fitting enough to catch Daniel's eye should you run into him.

You knew you shouldn't, but you pull out your phone to text him anyway.

Thanks again for the tickets. Let me know if you've got any free time so I can properly thank you!

You hit send before your brain has the chance to overanalyze the message. You check your phone obsessively the entire drive to the circuit, only half expecting a response. You tuck your phone in your pocket when you get to the gates, determined not to let it get to you. Daniel warned you he would be busy, and you knew that responding to you was likely on the low end of his list of priorities.

Hunter gets you to the circuit a half hour before they let fans in and you have to listen to him ramble about driver stats the entire time. Normally you don't mind; guessing who's most likely to win each Sunday is something of a competition in your household. But today, you couldn't focus enough to put any thought into your prediction, instead just blurting Daniel's name.

"You're only saying that cause he's into you," Hunter says, grinning savagely. "He struggles in Austin and you know it."

"So? He's in a McLaren this year. You saw his pace in Bahrain, and that was with a damaged floor! He'll podium for sure." You cross your arms and return his grin. "Besides, he's motivated."

"Oh, is he?"

"I told him I'd buy the winner of the United States grand prix a drink. Up to him whether it's him or Verstappen."

"Oh my god you have a date with Daniel Ricciardo?"

"Dude, chill out. It's not set in stone. Honestly, he's probably forgotten that I exist."

"Has he texted you?"

You glance down at your phone and are greeted with an empty inbox. "No. Not after the initial time so I could have his number." You shrug and pick an invisible piece of lint from your arm. "But he said he'd be too busy anyway."

"Guess we'll see once we get to will call, huh? If he's forgotten about you."

"Yeah." An odd feeling rolls through you. It feels a bit like nerves mixed with hope, but you stamp down on it. You were here to enjoy yourself. The trip of a lifetime had been handed to you on a golden platter and you were wont to let something as trivial as nervousness ruin it.

Bells chime as you step into the blissfully cool will call office. A blonde woman with a bit too much blush dusted on her cheeks greets you with a smile. 

"What can I do for you?"

"Picking up some tickets that were left for me by a driver?" You try, unsure of the proper procedure. "I don't have a paper or anything."

She waves a hand in the air as if she expected as much. "All I need is your identification. They should be under the name."

"Oh uh, of course." You motion for Hunter to hand over your wallet and show the woman your driver's license.

"Great. Wait here and I'll grab those for you."

You drum your fingers on the desk while waiting for her to return. After what feels like ages she re-emerges empty handed.

"I'm not seeing anything here with your name on it," she says, her plastic smile at odds with her sincerity. "I'm afraid your tickets aren't valid until Sunday."

"Can you double check? Daniel said they'd be here-"

"So sorry. There's no record of anyone dropping tickets off for you."

You blink, holding your tongue in the face of her blunt response. "Okay. I guess ill try and get it sorted out."

Hunter breaks the tension. "Can't you call him?"

"I can't just call him, I'm sure he's busy."

"Either that or we don't get in. Just do it, he gave you his number and specifically told you to let him know if there were any problems, didn't he?"

Yes he had, but that didn't mean you wanted to disturb him. He was probably knees deep in some sort of race weekend press conference or drivers meeting and heaven forbid you interrupt.  But it was either that or you slink home disappointed and empty handed.

"Fine," you grumble, pulling out your phone with deliberate slowness. Hunter crosses his arms and tips his head to the side, a smile playing on his lips.

"Well?"

"It's dialing, you good for nothing busybody-"

"I was wondering how long it would take you to call," Daniel answers, voice radiating sunshine.

You cut right to the chase, not giving yourself a single second to evaluate how your heart skips. "Look, I don't wanna distract you on a race weekend but I'm at will call and they're telling me they can't find any passes left for me."

"Let me guess," he starts, raising his voice to be heard over the pneumatic tools in the background, "You're dealing with Jenny?"

Your eyes fall to the name on the woman's lanyard. She shifts under your gaze like she knew exactly who you were on the phone with. "Yep. Spot on."

"Kinda figured she would be a problem. She's got a huge crush on me and does this every time."

You fight back the strange sensation his offhand comment brings to the surface. "Oh, really?"

"I'll be right there. Give me ten minutes or so."

"Oh you don't have to-"

"Hey, no big deal. I gotta go that way anyway."

"Uh, okay. See you soon?"

"Yup. On my way."

You hang up and stare down at the phone, stunned.

"Well?" Hunter asks.

"I guess he's coming here to sort it out himself."

He blinks rapidly and shakes his head. "Hold on. Are you telling me that I get to meet Daniel? Like right now?"

"Can you relax?" You laugh lightly. "Honestly you're gonna freak him out."

"Uh, yeah sure. No big deal, just meeting one of my favorite drivers in the minus five minutes and I'm completely unprepared. It's fine."

If you roll your eyes any harder they'd pop out of your head. "Relax. He's laid back, but I don't want you to freak out and embarrass us both."

"Excuse me," Jenny breaks in, her distaste clear. "Please move aside if you're not picking up passes."

"Er, yeah. Sorry." You shuffle awkwardly off to the side to wait. Cheesy elevator music plays and Jenny shoots you glares until the door squeaks open and the human incarnation of the sun steps inside. Your breathing stutters when the Australian shoots you a wink and a grin before sauntering up to the counter.

"Why hello there Jen," he says, and she giggles coyly. 

"Hi Daniel." She lays a hand on his forearm, the touch light and flirty. "What can I help you with?"

Daniel leans into her, whispering conspiratorially. Whatever he says has her bold smile faltering, replaced by a mask of professional cheer. Daniel shoots you another wink as the woman retreats to a back room, returning moments later with your supposedly missing passes.

"Thank you," Daniel says sweetly, taking them from her and turning to you. "I think these are yours."

"Thanks." You take the passes and hand one off to your awestruck brother. You nudge him and he comes to his senses in time to shake the hand Daniel sticks out.

"You must be the brother," he says. "I see you're a fan."

Dressed head to toe in McLaren colors, there was no other conclusion for Daniel to draw. For once your brother is the one stunned into silence so you answer for him, "Yeah, only a little. He was crushed when you left Red Bull cause Max is his other favorite driver and now he has to split his loyalties between teams."

Dan's laugh snaps Hunter out of his trance. "I know you're busy but do you think you can sign something for me?"

"Of course. How about this?" Daniel snatches the hat from Hunter's head and produces a sharpie from his pocket, signing the brim with practiced efficiency. 

"He'll be texting the group chat about that as soon as you're gone," you tell Daniel who laughs along with you.

Heat rises to your cheeks as Daniel's assessing gaze sweeps you from head to toe. "McLaren orange looks good on you."

Channeling his easy confidence you flash him a grin. "Not as good as it looks on you."

He smooths the hem of his soft shell jacket, smile turning bashful. "Anyway. I gotta run. See you Sunday after I win!"

Your eyes follow him as he jogs back through the paddock until he's swallowed by the crowd. You sigh, shifting your weight from foot to foot. God, he was gorgeous. And he had such a big heart. It was a shame someone hadn't snatched him up yet, but then again, that meant you still had a shot, even if it was a slim one.

"So where exactly do these get us?" Hunter toys with the lanyard now placed around his neck. "It doesn't say."

"I'm guessing the McLaren lounge," you say and point to the logo on the passes. "Above the garage."

"That's the perfect vantage point for practice."

And it was the perfect view- before getting in the car Daniel walked out into the pit, suited up in his cobalt racesuit and minty helmet and glanced up. You weren't sure if he saw you or not when you waved but he gave a little salute nonetheless.

Hunter was practically glued to the bank of floor to ceiling windows for the entirety of free practice, immersing himself in the experience. You found yourself glancing at the timing tables every lap, silently hoping to see the RIC tag move up. By the end of the second session he had been fourth fastest, a few tenths behind both Mercedes and the Red Bull of Verstappen. 

By the time you make it back to Hunter's house, you're both exhausted from a full day of running up and down the paddock. The pair of you had been determined to soak up every second of it, sneaking into whatever offices you could and stealing bites off the buffets and cups of coffee. 

Saturday’s free practice and qualifying session pass in a blur of color. Daniel drags his McLaren up the ranks to qualify fourth, his best starting position so far this season. He had a decent shot at the podium- Bottas should be easy pickings and if Verstappen and Hamilton made any mistakes, Daniel might even have a shot at the win.

The excitement in the air is palpable as you both flash your badges and head back up the now familiar path to the McLaren lounge. An hour before lights out, the v6 engines rumble to life below. You venture out onto the balcony, watching and waiting for a glimpse of Daniel.

The Aussie does you one better by walking out, race suit on and helmet in hand. He chats animatedly with Michael before stopping and craning his neck upwards. Michael nudges him with his elbow but Dan ignores him, answering your tiny wave with a wink. He mimes taking a drink and you roll your eyes.

Dan throws his head back and laughs, audible over the cacophony below. He gives you one final salute before Michael drags him back into the garage.

Ten minutes later cars begin streaming out on track, Daniel taking the fourth grid place as his mechanics once again swarm him. Tire blankets are secured, keeping them warm and pliable ahead of the formation lap. Thirty seconds before the boys are released, they're peeled back off as everyone scrambles off the pavement. Verstappen leads them away down the 3.4 mile track for the formation lap. Dan does a few small power slides before taking his place on the second row.

One by one, the red lights illuminate and disappear quicker than your blink. Daniel gets away clean while Bottas stumbles out of the gate, leaving himself wide open for Daniel's overtake on his right side. Cheers erupt around you, your brother going so far as to lift you off your feet.

Maybe Dan had a shot at winning after all.

A nail-biting 38 laps pass without a change in the order of the top three. Finally, a mistake in Max's pit stop sees him return to track third, just behind Daniel. The McLaren driver puts up the fight of his life, late braking at every corner and defending his position for all he was worth. Lewis was twenty seconds ahead- he wouldn't be winning but he could defend his second place spot.

Lewis Hamilton, race winner for the seventh time at the Circuit of the Americas!

Daniel Ricciardo crosses the line second, Max Verstappen takes home that last podium step for Red Bull. An astonishing fifty six laps here today in Austin!

The box erupts around you, a roar of cheers making it impossible to hear what else Crofty and Brundle were saying. But it didn't matter as Daniel raises his fist when he swings back into parc ferme, jumping out to be congratulated by his team. It was his first podium for the papaya team and you can tell it means the world to them.

"Looks like you're taking Lewis out for a drink," your brother teases. "Told you he wouldn't win."

"He almost won," you counter. "But hey, I'm not above asking Lewis on a date. Could you imagine? I mean, he would never agree, but still. It would be a hell of a date."

If you crane your neck from the balcony, you can just barely see the podium. Everyone goes quiet for the anthems and erupts again when the champagne is sprayed. The McLaren team chant for a shoey, which Daniel obliges. He sits to unlace his mint green boot and pours champagne into it, drinking from the boot before passing it to Max who joins in on the fun. 

Just as quickly as it began, the celebrations ebb. Daniel is the first to leave the podium which seems odd, given that the PR department surely wants his first big win for the team to be well documented.

Your phone buzzes a second layer. You fish it out of your pocket, a Cheshire grin splitting your face.

"Shouldn't you be busy celebrating?"

"I am," Dan starts, sounding breathless. You can barely hear him over the sound of the crowds chants behind him. "But I want to celebrate with you. I know I didn't win, but how about you let me buy you a drink instead?"

You barely hear anything beyond his first sentence. I want to celebrate with you. Were you dreaming? There was no way this was real.

"Um, I'm sorry, you want to celebrate by going out with me instead of your team?"

"If you'll let me. Hey- just text me okay? I can barely hear you over everyone screaming my name. It may be going to my head."

You laugh, drawing the attention of the vip's nearest you. You give an apologetic smile and move further from the crowd. "I'll text you an address. See you later, second place."

[bloody-bee-tea]

Shimmering

Jiang Cheng hates to admit it, but he’s nervous. There’s no real reason for it, because the people in his department are nice enough, but he can’t help himself.

Going out for them with a drink is different than working together with them after all.

He guesses the only good thing about this is that Nie Huaisang and Nie Mingjue will be there as well and he knows them a little bit better already after all.

Both Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang have been incredibly nice to Jiang Cheng, helping him settle in after he decided to leave his father’s company—and therefor the family—and Jiang Cheng doesn’t know where he would be right now if it weren’t for them.

He knows Nie Huaisang a little bit better than Nie Mingjue, having somehow hit it off with Nie Huaisang but he knows enough about Nie Mingjue to know that he is everything his employees praise him about and then some.

Jiang Cheng guesses going for a drink with them will not be so bad.

He decides to be the designated driver for the evening though, because he doesn’t trust himself and his competitive streak when it comes to alcohol one bit and he doesn’t actually want to make a bad impression on any of his co-workers.

He shouldn’t have worried about that, though, he realizes somewhere around the three hour mark.

This evening is fun and even though Jiang Cheng isn’t drinking the good mood of the others is contagious and soon enough he’s pretty sure that you couldn’t tell the difference between the drunk ones and him.

It does help that Nie Mingjue keeps by his side all evening, Jiang Cheng has to admit that.

“You don’t have to babysit me,” Jiang Cheng says at one point, leaning over a bit so he can at least pretend that it’s a private conversation.

“I’m not, though,” Nie Mingjue gives back with a smile and Jiang Cheng notices with a start that he has laughter lines around his eyes.

He never noticed that before.

“Really, now?” Jiang Cheng asks, the disbelieve clear in his voice and Nie Mingjue smiles even more, adding the dimples to the laughter lines.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable. You seemed tense when we first went out,” he tells him with a shrug and Jiang Cheng has to duck his head to hide the blush on his cheeks.

“I’m alright,” he lowly tells Nie Mingjue who nods and then puts a hand to Jiang Cheng’s back.

“Yes, you are,” he gives back and then turns back to the table at large.

It takes Jiang Cheng a little bit longer to fully get back into the swing but when he does Nie Mingjue raises his glass at him and Jiang Cheng clinks their glasses together.

Nie Mingjue is smiling a lot this evening and Jiang Cheng can’t seem to take his eyes off him.

He had always known that Nie Mingjue is a very attractive man—only a blind person wouldn’t see that with one look—but now it’s the little things he keeps noticing about him. Like the laughter lines. Or the dimples. Or the way he slightly cocks his head when he listens to someone and the way he tries to give all of them the same attention.

Over the course of the evening Jiang Cheng also realizes that Nie Mingjue’s teeth are very straight and very white and from that point on it’s nearly impossible to take his eyes off Nie Mingjue.

It takes Jiang Cheng a little while longer to realize that beneath the perpetual tan Nie Mingjue seems to sport there are freckles to be found.

They are dusted all across his cheeks and nose and Jiang Cheng has to fight the urge to do something stupid.

He has never seen a man this attractive and he doesn’t even know where it’s coming from because he wasn’t that smitten with Nie Mingjue when he first met him. Or just four hours ago.

But Nie Mingjue keeps smiling at him, keeps including Jiang Cheng into the group even though for once in his life Jiang Cheng doesn’t feel like he’s struggling in a group at all, and it all does nothing but start a low simmering heat in his stomach.

Jiang Cheng tries to stick more to Nie Huaisang after that, because he can’t be fucking this up, can’t give in to something that’s probably unrequited and could potentially fuck up his job but even then it’s still a lot of fun.

They are out until the very early morning hours and Jiang Cheng feels drunk on happiness and the company.

It was a great evening.

He’s still whistling under his breath, walking towards the car, the people he’s supposed to drive home already a little ahead of him, the shimmering moonlight the only light to guide his way right now, when suddenly Nie Mingjue calls out for him.

“Hey, Wanyin, wait,” he says, and he tries to sprint up to Jiang Cheng though the alcohol in his system clearly makes it a little bit difficult.

“Mingjue, careful,” Jiang Cheng says, reaching out to steady Nie Mingjue when he comes to a stop in front of him.

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Nie Mingjue asks and he looks so earnestly concerned at Jiang Cheng that he can’t help but to smile.

It prompts Nie Mingjue to smile as well and Jiang Cheng is yet again struck by how incredibly beautiful he is. It doesn’t help at all that he’s also a genuinely nice person and Jiang Cheng enjoys his company.

“I’m very sure. I didn’t drink, remember.”

“Yeah, but it’s late and you must be tired.”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Jiang Cheng says, though he can feel the tiredness creep in now that they all broke up and he doesn’t have the energy of the group to keep him awake anymore.

“Are you sure?” Nie Mingjue asks, clearly still concerned. “Can you text me when you’re home? I just want to make sure you got there safely.”

“Of course I can,” Jiang Cheng says and pats Nie Mingjue’s arm. “I’ll text you.”

“Thank you,” Nie Mingjue breathes out and then has to hurry back when Nie Huaisang yells for him.

Jiang Cheng watches after him, a smile playing around his lips before he gets into the car. His co-workers must not have noticed the little exchange because no one says anything and Jiang Cheng drops each of them off as quickly as he can, the tiredness now creeping up on him as well.

He’s actually glad when the last person leaves his car and he can finally drive home.

Once he’s there, he suddenly feels like he’s been hit over the head with a hammer—or as if he drank a lot of alcohol, which he didn’t—and the only thought on his mind is to get into bed as fast as he can.

He forgets his phone in his jacket.

~*~*~

When Jiang Cheng wakes up he feels like shit. He can barely open his eyes and he feels like he could sleep for at least another whole day, but one look at the time tells him that it’s already nearing midday. He really should get up.

He feels distinctly like he has a hangover and Jiang Cheng mentally goes over the drinks he had the previous night, but he can’t remember drinking anything alcoholic. He probably would have tasted it anyway, even if it would have happened on accident.

“Fuck, I’m getting old,” he grumbles as he hauls himself to the bathroom, but not even a shower really helps.

If this is how sleep-deprivation feels like, he vows to never do it again.

This is worse than having a hang-over, in his opinion, and he slumps over at the kitchen table once he’s dressed and ready.

But making food—or even getting something from the fridge—seems like too much work right now, and it’s not like he’s particularly hungry either.

They probably really shouldn’t have ordered that last round of snacks last night.

Jiang Cheng is still contemplating if it’s worth getting some food inside of him when someone rings at his door.

Jiang Cheng groans and has half a mind just not getting up, but the ringing continues and eventually Jiang Cheng drags himself over there.

“What?” he bites out as he flings the door open, only to blink in surprise when he comes face to face with Nie Mingjue.

All of his new observations from last night hit him in the face at once and he can barely stand to look at Nie Mingjue, that’s how gorgeous he is.

“Thank the gods you’re okay,” Nie Mingjue breathes out and it’s only then that he notices the panicked look on his face.

“Is something wrong?” Jiang Cheng asks, and his mind goes over all the possibilities.

He can’t come up with anything more than food poisoning though, and that doesn’t seem to warrant Nie Mingjue’s panic.

“You promised me you’d write when you get home,” Nie Mingjue says and Jiang Cheng blinks in confusion before all the blood drains out of his face.

“Oh shit,” he whispers and turns around to get his phone out of his jacket.

It’s dead, of course.

“You didn’t write and then I couldn’t contact you this morning and you seemed really wiped yesterday night when we parted, so I got worried,” Nie Mingjue rambles and Jiang Cheng turns back to him.

It really shouldn’t be, but Nie Mingjue’s panic is really sweet and cute and Jiang Cheng is already so lost if he thinks like that, he knows.

“I’m okay, I just forgot,” he tells Nie Mingjue with a wince. “I’m so sorry. It really hit me how tired I am when I got home, and I fell into bed as quickly as possible. I didn’t even think. I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s fine, that’s alright. I shouldn’t have panicked that hard,” Nie Mingjue says, but he seems reluctant to leave and Jiang Cheng finds himself reluctant to see him go as well.

“Would you—do you want breakfast? Or, well, lunch, I guess?”

“You still seem really tired,” Nie Mingjue says instead of answering his question and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“Maybe I’m getting too old for days out like this. Now, what will it be?” he then asks and congratulates himself for his braveness.

That happy feeling flies out of the window when Nie Mingjue continues to hesitate.

“I—lunch?” he carefully asks and Jiang Cheng nods.

“As—I just have to—as a date?” Nie Mingjue then gets out and Jiang Cheng goes hot all over.

“I mean—”

“Because I would like that, actually,” Nie Mingjue rushes on, not giving Jiang Cheng time to answer. “But if not that’s okay, too and we can just pretend that this didn’t happen.”

“Are you still drunk?” Jiang Cheng asks him, narrowing his eyes at Nie Mingjue who shakes his head.

“No, of course not. I had breakfast, I’m good. It’s just—I’d really like to go on a date with you and it makes me nervous, I guess.”

Jiang Cheng cannot believe how far gone he is already that he finds that endearing as all hell.

“I’d love a date,” he gives back and pulls Nie Mingjue inside of his apartment. “I was just debating if eating is even worth it today, but with you it definitely is.”

When no answer from Nie Mingjue is forthcoming he turns around to look at him and is surprised to see Nie Mingjue stare at him.

“I really like you,” Nie Mingjue blurts out, clearly as nervous as he said, and Jiang Cheng can feel how his cheeks turn red.

“I really like you, too,” he gives back and then pushes Nie Mingjue towards his kitchen. “Let’s talk about that over lunch, okay?”

“Okay,” Nie Mingjue gives back and it’s what they do.

They talk about it over this lunch and then dinner two days later and then lunch at the company again and at that point Jiang Cheng happily loses count.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[eunoiaflow3r]

Agree to No Promises

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this, thank you for requesting!

Warnings: mistakes, angst, fluff, mentions of kidnapping (nothing gory), and language. fem!reader.

Word Count: 4.5k

Requests:

i have a spence request!! you know that one scene where he says “this is calm, and it’s doctor”. i want a whole fic of that kind of aggressive spence in which he defends the readers honour to the rest of the BAU people, maybe she makes a call that’s risky for her own safety and the others are calling her out on it and spence gets defensive and morgan is like “calm down kid” or it can be whoever and THEN HE SAYS THAT LINE I WOULD DIE ❤️❤️

actually, some enemies to lovers with spencer would be great if they work at the bau together and for years they don’t get along and bicker and the reader knows she’s in love with spencer but doesn’t have a chance and he finds out while they’re arguing

~~~~~

You wanted to punch Spencer in the face. You wanted to shut him up, and you felt in that moment - punching him would be the perfect way to do so. But no. Your brain was not listening to what you wanted, and instead what your heart wanted, but you could not afford that right now.

When you think of Spencer Reid, you think tall, skinny, uncoordinated, annoying, rude and cocky. You can’t stand the way he looks at you, or the way his hair falls over his eyes, and even the fact that a grown-ass man never wears matching socks. You also don’t like the fact that he always seems to be right, even when you wish he wasn’t. 

According to Spencer, you were no walk in the park either. He hates that you’re so dramatic, and that you’re so hell-bent on proving yourself right. He hates that you never listen to anything he tells you, and how you act like nothing can ever get to you no matter what it is.

When Spencer thinks of you, he thinks she’s self-righteous, and that you have this stupid hero complex that you need to get over.

_

“L/N.” 

“Reid.” You greeted with just as much hostility.

Even on the plane, you both seemed to successfully make eachother mad. The team always noticed the rigidness between you two, and had even asked about the elephant in the room multiple times, but the only thing you two had seemed to come up with to explain your behavior - which you both had ironically subconsciously agreed on, was that, “It’s not my fault he/she is impossible.”

On countless random occasions, the team had tried to help fix whatever bad blood was spilled between you, but you two never caved in and instead insisted on the fact that, “nothing could be done,” to fix the unyielding tension if the other wasn’t going to change.

After they went over the ins and outs and asked the necessary questions of the case like usual, Hotch began to put the team into pairs to send them on their individual assignments.

“Prentiss, Morgan, I need you to go to the morgue and see if there’s anything significant other than the ligature marks.”

They nodded.

“JJ, Rossi, I need you to go visit the victim’s families and see if there’s anything you can find that ties these murders together. Like we said, probably not, but it doesn’t hurt to look.”

“Of course.” JJ answers.

“Y/N, and Reid I need you two to go to the most recent scene and tell us what you find there. I’ll meet you there after I check in with the locals.”

Both you and Spencer looked absolutely offended, and you both collectively tried to come up with any reason in the books so that you would not be paired together.

“But surely-” you tried to reason.

“No.” Hotch interrupted.

“But I should -” Reid began to bargain.

Hotch interrupted once again with a cold stare, and an even colder if not snarky, “No.”

Yours and Spencer’s eyes met for a brief moment before you both decided to give up defeatedly, and roll your eyes at one another.

The team had noticed the interaction between the two of you once more and they couldn’t decide if they wanted to laugh at your childish actions, or if they wanted  to shake their heads in annoyance and say something about your behavior.

They chose the latter and ignored the both of you.

Once you had landed, and before the team all went their separate ways, Hotch told both you and Spencer to behave.

“No promises.” you replied opening the driver door to the black SUV that awaited the both of you to ride in.

Hotch gave you a  harsh glare.

“I’m joking Hotch.” you smile. “It’s a joke.”

Nodding, he walks away and gets into a car of his own with the local police department. Spencer gets in the passenger seat and immediately if not frantically, puts on his seatbelt.

You chose to ignore his actions, turned on the ignition, and drove out of the parking lot.

“Uhm, are you sure you should be driving?” Spencer asks eyebrows furrowed.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean since -”

“You misogynistic prick!” you practically shout, now pissed.

“You’re wrist.” Spencer nods towards your hand. “You were complaining earlier about how it was cramped and all.”

“What do you care?”

“Well, ya’know. I wouldn’t want it going out, and I don’t know, kill the both of us because you weren’t careful.”

“You’re a jerk Spencer Reid.” you shake your head not taking your eyes off the road. “You ever shut up?”

“I could ask the same Y/N L/N.”

-

Your relationship with Spencer has been this way since the day you arrived.

“Everyone, meet agent L/N.” Hotch introduces you. “Y/N, meet Penelope Garcia, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, and Spencer Reid.”

You waved at everyone and said a quick “hello,” before sitting in the empty seat right across from Spencer Reid.

Unbeknownst to you, Spencer had done a little back up check on you before you had even arrived. Your record was crystal clear, you had done nothing wrong, your parents were alive and well, and it seemed as though you had been through nothing traumatic and this shocked Spencer.

No one’s record was this clear, which meant you were hiding something. Because of this, he could not trust you.

Instead of asking you himself, he decided to just ignore you and act rude until he got the answers he wanted. Perhaps this was you’d feel the need to tell the truth - whatever that was.

_

“I’m sorry, did I do something to offend you?” You had asked once.

You had barely been at the Bureau a day and already you had seemingly made an enemy, which sucked because from what you’ve heard Spencer was the sweetest one there, and by the looks of it, definitely the cutest.

“No, you did nothing.”

“Okay.”

_

You don’t remember what he was talking about, but Spencer was ranting and that was one of your favorite things about him - just the way he could talk on and on and on about anything. 

His voice itself made you want to swoon, but everytime he spoke to you, he always seemed disinterested, and you hated that

_

You got on Spencer’s last nerve. How did you seem so perfect? You were beautiful inside and out, and he didn’t understand it. There were days where he literally just wanted to talk to you to hear your voice, and he wanted to just ramble on and on and on to you about everything, but everytime he stopped himself. 

He reminded himself that you were suspicious, and besides - with your beauty, who knew how many men you’ve been with. 

He didn’t feel like getting his heart broken anytime soon.

_

You gave him a couple of weeks - a month and a half - to warm up to you, and still nothing. 

His attitude had got nothing but worse towards you, which was confusing because when you saw him interact with anyone else, he was an absolute sweetheart.

“Why do you treat me this way?”

He ignored you.

“Fine.” You had grown impatient. “Don’t say I never tried Spencer.”

And you walked away.

_

You were no longer going to take the way he gave you the cold shoulder and the way he talked to you, so from that day forward you had done to him the same way he had done to you.

You gave him the cold shoulder, and acted annoyed whenever he spoke to you.

This had become routine for the both of you. So much of a routine, that you both had forgotten why you hated each other in the first place.

After awhile, all Spencer knew was that he couldn’t get your condescending voice out of his head, and even when he told himself that you weren’t, you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

_

Everyday was a struggle to get eachother out of your heads. It seemed as though no one but that small voice in your heads knew you were secretly pining for each other, and that “hatred,” was covering up something much, much bigger, but there’s doubt you’ll be uncovering anything any time soon.

There were nights where you laid in bed just thinking about him, and times you cried yourself to sleep because at some point you realized you were in love with him, but you knew he would never ever feel the same, and that’s what hurt you the most.

_

“Excellent work guys.” Hotch compliments. “We’ll pick this up in the morning.”

The team had come together, and gathered a significant amount of information about the unsub, but it was late, and everyone needed a good night’s sleep for fresh minds the next day.

Unfortunately, roommates were the team members you were paired with earlier that day, so you were stuck sharing a room with Reid.

You huffed and through your bag on the bed. The last person you wanted to share a room with was Spencer Reid. At least you didn’t have to share a bed.

Putting a fake smile on your face, you turned to him and asked, “So are you taking a shower first or am I?”

“I’ll take mine in the morning.” he answered shortly, seemingly unbothered.

“Okay, fine. Whatever.” you replied, kind of hurt.

A hot shower should do it for you. You brought your bag into the shower, and got ready to relax under the steaming water. You rubbed your hands across your face because honestly - you were stressed. Arguing with Spencer on a daily basis was just…tiring. Sometimes you wished you knew why he hated you so much, but you knew the man wouldn’t ever tell you.

You opened your eyes, and you looked around the shower for your shampoo, but on the wall right above it was a spider.

“Shit!! Oh my God!!” You jumped out of the shower as quickly as you could, wrapped a towel around your body, and just about flew out of the bathroom.

Spencer looked up hurriedly and jumped out of his seat, in fear that you were hurt. 

“What the hell? Are you okay?”

“No!” you huffed. “There’s a spider in the shower!” 

His face was now a serious Hotch-like face. “Are you serious right now?”

“Yes!”

Spencer walked into the bathroom and checked for the spider. He was now just as confused as ever.

“This is just a wolf spider,” he sighed, bringing it into the room in a cup with a napkin covering it. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“What the fuck Spencer, what are you DOING?” 

He looked at you, and then the towel around you and his nostrils flared. You were practically naked - as the only thing between the two of you was a flimsy hotel towel. He had to get out of there, so instead of answering you, he left the room and went to go free the arachnid.

Once he was outside, and had freed the spider, he took a few breaths. He was  frustrated. Absolutely frustrated, and he wasn’t sure what to do. All he saw now was that towel wrapped around your wet body and he hated the way his stomach clenched everytime he thought about that stupid towel and how easily it could have fallen and how he would have been able to -

No. He must not think this way about you. Not only was it incredibly inappropriate considering you were his coworker, but he had to keep up his, “I can’t stand her,” persona.

When he got back to the room, you were, he assumed, finished showering, and you were sitting on your bed in a pair of shorts and a tight fitted tank top leaving little to nothing of your figure to the imagination.

Of course, he was now incredibly irritated because you were real, and this wasn’t just one of his many dreams starring you where you two were using your mouths for a little something other than argue.

You had watched Spencer go into the bathroom, and you audibly let out a breath. He had said nothing to you, yet the way he looked at you made your heart and lower stomach go into a fucking frenzy. 

When he got out, he was dressed in just a regular t-shirt and basketball shorts.  You practically swooned. You had never seen him in anything other than his usual work attire, and you regrettably loved this look on him.

You shouldn’t have been thinking this way about him.

He hated you. How could anything ever happen if he was furious with you for every little thing you did?

“You know what I don’t understand?” Spencer asked climbing into his bed and turning the light off on his side.

“What?” 

You did the same so now you both were laying in the darkness.

“How do you face serial killers almost every single day, and you’re afraid of spiders?”

“Same way you’re afraid of elevator crashes I suppose.”

“But death by spiders are extremely rare - that spider was harmless.”

“I’m not afraid of getting killed by a spider, they’re just hideous.”

He laughed and said, “Yeah, well I’m sure they find you hideous as well.”

You both went to sleep with giddy smiles on your faces.

_

The next day went by pretty smoothly, and ever since the night in the hotel, Spencer had seemed a little less hostile towards you. You couldn’t help but wonder why. What changed?

Anyway, just like the day before, you were paired with Spencer, mostly indoors working on the board. Collectively you two had noticed some pretty interesting details, and you both realized you worked well together.

Soon after you gave a profile to the locals, Hotch told you and Spencer to follow a lead to a suspect’s home. You had knocked on the door, and nothing. You checked the front yard, backyard, and nothing.

It wasn’t until you checked inside a kids’ clubhouse, that you had found a secret trap door hidden underneath.

“Reid, call the team.”

He did, and once he was sure they were on their way, he helped you move the playhouse over so that you could open the door.

Once he opened it, all you two heard were sobs and the unsub yelling. You went down even after Spencer told you not to, and you saw the girl tied to a chair with a gun pointed to her head.

When the unsub saw you, a guy named Fred you believe, he changed directions, and held the gun out in front of him straight at your head.

“Fred? Hey. I’m Y/N L/N and I’ve come to help.”

“H-h-h-help? H-h-h-how can can y-you he-he-help?”

On your way over to this house, Garcia called and told you and Spencer that Fred had autism and, because of this he was like a child, he didn’t know what he was doing.

“Well Freddie,” you paused and looked him in his eyes, “May I call you Freddie?”

He nods quickly.

“Well the FBI is out there,” you heard the sirens a moment earlier, “and they’re upset that you took this girl. They might hurt you.”

“But I-I-I-I like h-h-her.”

You heard someone try to come down, and you yelled, “No!” which made all noises stop. “Do not come down here!”

Fred was scared, and confused, and he didn’t know what to do. All you could see was that the girl continued to cry, and he held his gin tighter.

You put up your hands dropping your gun, and this made him trust you a little bit more.

“Do you like me, Freddie?”

He nods enthusiastically.

“So, how about you let this girl go, and take me instead?”

“L-let her go?”

“Yes, Freddie, let her go and you can have me.” You were trying not to shake. “Can I untie her?”

“Yes.” he says and follows your movements with his gun. You walk slowly over to the girl, and untie her quickly. “When you go up there, tell them not to shoot. Tell them that the man is more unstable than we thought, okay?” She nods tears streaming down her face, and runs towards the latter.

_

Spencer was freaking out. He was pacing, and his heart was racing, and everytime he sat down his legs wouldn’t stop moving, and he didn’t know what to do with himself. He had cried, almost pulled out his hair, crumpled up papers in frustration and had yelled at almost every single one of his team members.

How could he have let this happen to you? He should have gone instead of you. He should have gone with you, he should have stopped you or something.

And on top of this, he always been an absolute prick to you, when deep down he felt the opposite and all he wanted to do was kiss you and tell you how he felt but now you were gone and he didn’t know if he was getting you back, and all he did know was that his heart hurt and all he wanted to do was just see you.

Just see you.

_

You had woken up tied to a chair in a child’s bedroom. 

You tried to untie or loosen the ropes, but it was no use - they were way too tight.

Fred came into the room with a tray of food for you, and he looked at you almost sadly.

“Freddie, you know they’re looking for you, right?

“I-I-I know.”

“So what’s going to happen when they do find you? You’ll kill me?”

He gasped and covered his mouth. “I could never hurt you!”

“But you hurt those other girls, Freddie.”

“Th-th-those g-girls hurt me. You’re r-re-really n-nice to me. I wouldn’t hurt you.”

You tried to smile, but all that came out was tears. You were scared to death and you had no idea what made you make the decisions you made.

“Oh, no Y/N p-please do-don’t cry.”

“Freddie these ropes really hurt, can you take them off?”

“But you’ll leave m-me.”

“Freddie, I won’t leave you, I promise okay?

_

They had a location. They knew where you were. Spencer couldn’t have been happier. 

Soon enough the team had found the house, and quietly came into the house. Morgan saw you first, relieved you were okay, and you silently told him that Fred was upstairs. He nodded and let the officers up there to make the arrest. You ran outside tears running down your face, and as soon as Spencer sees you, he runs up to you hugging you tightly. You wrap your arms around his neck and sob into his shoulder.

“Y/N are you okay? Are you hurt?” He says checking you as he pushes you away from him checking for any scratch or scar or anything.

“No, I’m - I’m alright.”

“Good.” he says, getting serious now. “Then explain to me why you would do something so incredibly stupid? We were all worried about you.”

“You were worried about me?”

He shakes his head and tries not to show how angry he was with you for leaving him. Instead of answering, he walks away.

He walks away because if he stayed, he would have kissed you, and he can’t - 

He just can’t.

If he shows you that he cares, you just might hurt him and sometimes it’s easier to just shut you out, than get used to you being around and then leave him. He doesn’t want you to know how much you could hurt him if he let you in.

So he pushes you away.

_

After everyone greeted you, and asked if you were okay, and the doctors checked you out, you were all on the plane home. 

You kind of just distanced yourself from everyone because all the team seemed to do was patronize you.

“That was a huge risk Y/N, did you even think about what you were doing?” Emily asked.

“Honestly, what if it didn’t work L/N? What about the girl?” Morgan said, shaking his head.

“You could have gotten severely injured Y/N, we’re just trying to look out for you.” JJ tried to reassure you.

Everytime you tried to explain yourself, you were bombarded with another stupid question, which caused silent tears to fall down you face. Spencer saw this, and he decided he had had enough with everyone.

“You guys act like you had never made a decision like this in your entire career. At the end of the day, everyone made it out alright, and I’m sure Y/N has learned her lesson, but you guys humiliating her doesn’t help at all. Think about what she’s just been through. Just for a second can you think about how she’s feeling right now?” He sighed. “This is the first time Y/N has dones something like this and you all are giving her the third degree. So just stop.”

“Hey, calm down Reid, It’s not that we -”

“This is calm Morgan, and it’s doctor.”

With that being said Spencer moved to the back of the plane, and sat across from you. You both said nothing, but you silently thanked him.

_

Once you were back at the BAU, Hotch told him he wanted you to take some time off, and you understood. The team left avoiding both you and Spencer, mostly because of what he said on the plane, and they weren’t sure what to do now.

“Reid, can I talk to you?” He was packing up to go home, you two were the only ones left on this floor.

“Yes?”

“Why did you do that - on the plane I mean. Why would you stick up for me?”

He shrugged, basically ignoring you. Just right where you thought you were getting through to him, he closes himself back up again, and goes back to being mean to you.

“Fine. Whatever. Just please don’t do that again. I don’t need your help.”

You were walking away, when he decided to argue back.

“Oh you don’t? So you'd  just would have wanted them to keep patronizing you? Honestly, I don’t see what your problem is Y/N, goodnight.”

And he was walking towards the door. You ran out in front of him blocking him from leaving.

“My problem?” You scoff. “Oh I’ll tell you what my problem is. I don’t need your saving. I don’t need you to come in like a knight on his steed and prove that you’re smarter than me every single time. Because yes, you’re smarter, and yes, you’re a doctor, and yes, I know you dislike me for some reason, but don’t go switching up your attitude if something happens to me. Just leave me alone.

Obviously you don’t know what it feels like to be me, otherwise you would know that the worst pain there is, is being in love with someone who just hates you. So, just stop. Please, just stop.”

And once you said what you needed to, you walked off gathering your things so that you could go home too. You felt like crying, but you couldn’t. Not here. You couldn’t believe you just said what you did.

Despite what he wanted, he stood frozen in place. He was conflicted. He didn’t know what to do. His mind was telling him to do one thing, while his heart told him to do another.

He took quick strides over to your desk, and turned your body gently so that you were facing him, and you were basically trapped between him and your desk behind you.

“I couldn’t save you.” He began. “I was with you, and then I wasn’t and I couldn’t help you. You were doing that stupid heroic shit you tend to do, and I wasn’t there to help you. You were hurting, and it hurt me that I wasn’t there to heal you. And believe me, it keeps me awake at night when I think about the way I treat you, and I’m sorry, I am. I’m sorry if you felt like I hated you, because believe me, I don’t.

There is nothing to hate about you other than the fact that you’re just so goddamn perfect and I know I could never have you, and even if I did, I would give all of me to you, and that scares me. It scares me that I would be so willing to hand my heart over to you, and it scares me that you have all this power over me. It hurts that you have the power to torture me, so yes, I push you away, and I’m sorry I care about you, but I just, I just-”

And this was that moment.

That moment where your head told you to punch him, because God knows you wanted to, but your heart told you to just swallow all of that angst and just give yourself to him. 

To tell him with your lips that you felt the same, and just leave all the arguing behind.

But something was -

You didn’t hate him. And he just confessed that he didn’t hate you, and now his face was under your fingertips, and your lips were on his. Tears were falling, you weren’t sure if they were yours or his, but he was kissing you back and his arms wrapped around your waist, and you felt like you were on fire. Your hands were now tangled in his hair, and his hands caressed your sides. He had brought you closer to him, and through this kiss you both felt all the so-called, “hatred,” and, “dislike,” evaporate into thin air.

He pulled away from you, and you wiped away his tears.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, you didn’t deserve what I did to you. None of it. If I could take it all back, I would. I’ll make it up to you, I promise I will.”

“You’re such a boy Spencer Reid.” You say.

“What?” He’s confused.

“Mother’s tell their little girls that when boys are mean to them, that they must like them, and that’s why they’re acting that way.”

“Well that’s not very healthy. That tells those little girls that when a man hits them, or is crude towards them, that that’s perfectly normal and that they should just take it because the man loves them.”

“Well true,” Spencer was still holding you, and you went on “but the point was that you must have really liked me since you were so mean to me.”

“I mean, sure. But I don’t see why a mother would -”

“Hey, agree to disagree, okay?”

_

A month or so passed, and the team noticed a huge shift. You and Spencer were no longer arguing constantly, well, of course there were disagreements and such, but you two didn’t act like you hated each other.

“Promise me you’ll stop trying to be the hero.” Spencer told you once.

“No promises.”

Because if you weren’t the hero, you wouldn’t have saved the girl, wouldn’t have gotten Fred help, wouldn’t have the arrogant prince turned good, and you wouldn’t have agreed to disagree.

~~~~~~

[ateezinmymind]

Finding out their s/o is pregnant

Ateez x reader

fluff ~yeo lowkey angst

thank you so much for the request @sonnnflower 💓sorry for the waitt!! <3

Hongjoong:

You would be a little nervous telling him at first Doubting yourself, scared that he wouldn’t be happy due to how busy he is

But when he came home and felt your uneasy aura,, he knew something was up. “Love? Are you okay?”Trying to put on your best smile, you just give a “yep” and change the topic. Doing your best to seem as calm as possible, while talking about his time at work

Your nerves would be over controlling to the point where you started to shutter “Joong, I need to show you something”,,Walking in the bathroom where your pregnancy test was, you turn around to show him, and lock eyes “I-I’m pregnant..”

His face would go blank from hearing the news,,Like he would be full on shookkk :O

From the look on his face you started to doubt telling him-“Are you mad?”. Realizing he hasn’t said anything because he was lost in his imagination he quickly reassures you“Noo—baby? No, why would I be mad at you?”

Then tears would start coming,, “I-it’s just that y-you’re busy, and I know t-that you have a lot of things to worry about...and I don’t want you to have another thing to stress over-“ But seeing the biggest smile spread across his face, he softly comforts, “my life at work will never interfere with my life at home, okay? I could never be mad at something so beautiful as this-“

Looking down to your stomach he’d softly place his hand there. “I just can’t believe that we’re finally starting our family”

Seonghwa:

You were sitting on the floor of the bathroom The test in hand, showing you the positive results-you’ve been wondering if you were pregnant for a couple weeks now..You’ve noticed the changes in your body, and you just needed to make sure

A thousand thoughts went through your mind, but when you heard the front door open you quickly got up off the floor and put the pregnancy test in the trash

Greeting Seonghwa with a kiss, he’s first to say, “Dinner ideas y/n? Any cravings? Your wish..my command” The way he treats you like your his treasure, makes you think about what a great dad he’ll be, and while your request moved to the kitchen to be cooked, you tidy up and think about how to tell hwa

Dinner being made and served by your favorite person,, you thank him “Seonghwa thank you, there’s so much you do for me, even after your day at work you come home to take care of me” Pausing for a moment and taking a deep breath,, “there’s some news I need to tell you-“

“You’re pregnant-“

“How do you-“

“Love, do you think I haven’t noticed the times where you get out of bed to throw up in the morning? Do you think I haven’t noticed how you ask me to get the weirdest foods for you? And babe I’m not blind, I’ve seen that cute little bump you have-” Getting up from his chair, Seonghwa walks over and kneels in-front of you, and grabs your hands “I know you y/n, you’re the love of my life. I notice things, and this..well this has made me want to make sure I take care and am there for you even more,,”

Placing your hands on top of his, which are placed on your stomach he quips “You’re going to be the most wonderful mother to our child, and quite frankly..the hottest” *wink wonk*

Yunho:

You’ve talked about having kids in the future with Yunho,, but you never made an official decision

Until now

He knew you haven’t been feeling well lately,, so he wanted to make sure you had a happy day together You two would spend the day raiding stores, buying too much food, and of course laughing

It was when you went through an aisle that had pregnancy tests, and it made the realization spark,,that you might be pregnant. Grabbing two, you caught up to Yunho and tapped his shoulder-“I kind of want to try it and see??” He immediately smiles at the fact you’re going to do a pregnancy test, and the fact that there’s a possibility of you being pregnant..

Later that day you decided to do the tests-both of them..coming back positive-Mind immediately going to Yunho.. oh how he’s going to be so happy-“yuyu?..” peeking your head out the bathroom seeing him on the bed playing with his feet while waiting “Oh oh y/n,,tell mee tell mee!!” Trying to hide your smile behind the door, you think about playing a little trick with him,

“baby, I’m sorry I guess I just have a stomach bug..it came out negative-“ and from the moment those words came out of your mouth, you deeply regretted it. The sadness washing over his features and the small ‘aw’ that came out of him made you burst out the bathroom and into his arms

“I’M PREGNANT!! Babyyy I’m sorry I was just wanting to see your reaction..I-I I’m pregnant..”Hugging him- you hear a sniffle,,quickly looking up and holding his face. Tears gliding down his cheeks causes you to tear up “Y-y/n, I cant believe this“ —thinking he was mad you start apologizing..

“IM GOING TO BE A DAD!!”

Yeosang:

You knew that you were pregnant,,it’s just that Yeosang didn’t-it wasn’t that you were hiding it, but just because you didn’t know how he was going to react

You two rarely mentioned having kids, frankly you thought he wasn’t fond of the idea, so you tried to keep the topic out of subject—But tonight when you two were sitting on the couch together, eating sweets. Him on his phone, and you staring off at the wall-shoving food in your mouth

“You know I have something I need to tell you...I don’t know how your going to react,but please hear me out-“ lifting his head up attention now on you, “I haven’t told you this yet because I’m scared, but..” looking straight at him, then moving your gaze away from nervousness-“I’m pregnant Yeosang”

Not hearing a words come out of his mouth you start rambling,,”I just don’t know what we’re going to do. I don’t know what is gonna happen..I-“ head turning, your faced with a frozen Yeosang...

Trying to get his attention back, shaking him lightly, patting his cheeks, you give up. Not knowing what he’s thinking right now, why he won’t answer-tears slide down your cheeks, sniffling grabbing another piece of food and shoving it in your mouth you just sit there

“Wait, how long have you kept this from me?”—snapping your head towards him, teary face, and chewing food, “probably a month now..” Yeosang then stands up and throws his phone on the couch. “Come here.” gesturing his hands towards him, you get up yourself—then immediately brought into a kiss

Wrapping his arms around your waist and giving a very light squeeze, he pushes his head in your neck.. ”babe, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me...I want to do this with you so bad—I want to be there for you so bad. Please let me”

Giving out an apology,, he’s quick to jump and look you in the eyes while holding your stomach—“I would’ve gotten CHICKEN!! ahhhhh we can’t have our baby not taking after his daddyyy~”

San:

It was when you woke him up getting out of bed to throw up.. San quickly following after you-one hand holding your hair, the other caressing your sides

always being there for you, wanting to do everything he can to take care of his baby he tries so hard to give you the best comfort—”love , are you okay?? did you eat something bad?”

Ever since that morning, he definitely noticed the more mornings to come..by the third time this happened he’s the one that suggested it-“Y/n, love,, do you have any ideas of why you’ve been sick?”

You’d honestly be oblivious, but San-is obsessed with you and probably knows everything about you before you actually do..yaknow because you’re his babygirl

So when you kept saying you’re confused on why you haven’t been feeling well—San just straight up tells you, “You might be pregnant-“

And then you tense up and realize..OMG PREGNANT-but seeing the smile and the cutest dimples on his happy face,,you know there’ll be no regrets

“Oh..wow, well should we buy a test? To uh make sure-“ he’d give you a fast ‘got it!’ And rushed out the door like a mad man

Coming back with more tests you needed, he couldn’t wait..”y/n, if these don’t come back positive..I’m going to have to take you to the bed—“

“Because I can’t stop thinking about this now,, I really hope you’re pregnant” then ushering you to the bathroom he kisses your nose and closes the door “I love you”

When you came back out with positive results,, you got a high pitched scream, and a grown man running around in joy..

your beautiful journey together only starting..

Mingi:

When you missed your period, you didn’t want to think of what was going to happen—the both of you were cuddling next to each other when you went down the rabbit hole that started from listening to Mingi’s heartbeat, to thinking about snacks, then a little more down to the realization that you haven’t had your period

He nudged his head into the crook of your neck,, a satisfactory sigh leaving his mouth-“I love you so much babe...” awww mingi is my baby, my cute—BABY...your heart beating faster, “I love you too b-baby—“ then hoisting yourself up to hold his hand

“So I just realized I haven’t had my period,, and I know you remember that n-night because..who wouldn’t,” rambling on about him his eyes go wide. “Wait y/n, you’re saying that-“

“I don’t know,, it’s a possibility and I don’t want to risk not knowing for sure” so that’s when the both of you-hand in hand-walk into the store to get your needed supplies. And that’s how now Mingi-on the other side of the bathroom door is humming a little tune waiting

Calling him in, he asks if everything’s alright when he sees you on the floor- “y-yeah..it’s just. I’m pregnant”

:O

Mingi then starts giggling, “y/n you know I always thought I was going to be the baby—TURNS OUT WERE HAVING A BABY?!”

He’d pick you off the floor and take you back to bed and cuddle you so more,, “we should name it monkey after her mommy~” bursting into laughter, the only thing that could be heard was you slapping Mingis leg..then a following “OWWWWEE Y/N IT WAS A JOKE!!”

Wooyoung:

When you asked for some ice and chocolate Woo literally thought you were on cocaine,, “I’m sorry? You said what?” He needed to hear you again-“I want some ice and chocolate! Oh and now that I’m thinking about it,, how about some chips too”

He literally just stood there in confusion-“well go on!” Hearing your demand he ran to get your cravings. Before he came back out to you, still trying to figure out what’s wrong with you—he brings out his phone and types. ‘why is my wife/gf craving ice and chocolate’

When a thing for pregnancy cravings came up he quickly brought the food back to you,,not wanting to keep you waiting any longer-

“How long have you been wanting these weird cravings??” Trying to watch your show, you tell him ‘not for long’..”well the internet said that weird cravings could be because of pregnancy-COULD THAT BE A REASON?!”

You haven’t really thought about why you’re feeling the way you have been, honestly you just thought your body was changing because of weight gain..but hearing pregnancy come up you’re like-DUH

Wooyoung brings up going to the doctor,,and you agree-because you want him to be quiet about this so you can go back to watching

-sitting in the waiting room, currently talking about the pattern on the floor and the interesting choice of wall art. You two are interrupted by the doctor calling you back in..sitting on the chair he starts, “congratulations you two are parents..”

On your way home WOOYOUNG WOULD NOT SHUT UP saying ‘I told you’ and ‘always trust the internet’. But when you sat on the couch he came in right beside you, and held your stomach,,

“I really can’t believe this is going to happen, but I’m for sure happy I’m here for you” KISSES AND SCREAMING LAUGHTER followed as he tickles your legs

Jongho:

You mentioned feeling odd, when talking to your mom. She thought nothing of it, but when you kept coming to her...she gave you advice you weren’t ready to hear

“Hey y/n-baby, what’s going on?”

“You know how I haven’t been feeling good? Well, I’ve been talking to my mom about it-“ taking a deep breathe and covering your face, “a-and she says I might be pregnant..”

You feel the bed dip in from his weight, Jongho crawling up to your frame. He gives you a kiss on your stomach, then holding your hand-“wait-really? What do you think about that?”

“I don’t know what to think, I mean I’m happy it’s with you, but I’m scared..and I-I don’t know” irrupting you with a kiss “don’t be scared, I know this is new-but I’m never going to leave you, and I’m hear for you always..”

Later when you two confirmed with a test, you spent the whole day snuggling, “I can’t wait to tell my mom hehe-“ giggling Jongho says happily. “You’re going to give birth to a little apple..and we’re going to be the most powerful-“

“Jongho,, stop..it’s a baby—not your little play toy” but he only snuggles in closer, “we’ll see y/n, we’ll see..”

[ladyeliot]

What are you doing to me?

Request: @lostaurorax : hi! i absolutely love your writing and was wondering if i could request a tony stark smut with prompts 8 and 9 from your valentines prompt list if that’s okay with you!

Anonymous: Hi for the valentines request how about a tony x reader with a smut and dialogue no 8 and 9 with a teeny bit of angst

Pairing: Tony Stark x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was your first time in years that you were going on a Valentine's date, but things don't always go your way and the plan goes completely awry.

Warnings: Smut, Smut and Smut.

Word count: 4395

A/N: Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Valentine’s Day (Prompts)

How had you come to find yourself in such a situation, especially on Valentine's Day?

You had started the day with a supernatural glow on your face, it was common for your awakenings to be the most irritating, but that day it wasn't. You were finally going to be able to get out of those four walls that were corralling you, to get out of those four walls that were corralling you. You were finally going to be able to get out of those four walls that had you cornered, to go out into the world, like a normal, ordinary person, which was what you needed most at that moment. No training, no missions, no world problems, just you and your date on Valentine's Day.

It had been about three years since that day professed nothing special inside you, basically since your life took a supernatural turn, never better said, and you had to say goodbye to everyone you knew to venture into a new life with a new family. Since then, perhaps for fear of not being accepted, or because your lifestyle prevented you from doing so, you had not embarked on new romantic relationships, but that was not a problem for you, you found what you needed in other ways.

But then he came along. It all happened during a mission, working alongside a CIA operative he was on. Things happened fast enough that you didn't realise you were at an advanced point, perhaps too advanced for you. Still, you tried not to fray your nerves and get too overwhelmed, because what you liked most about him was that you didn't have to hide who you were from him, because he already knew. Surely he would have made sure that he knew every step you had taken before he worked with you.

That morning you went out to exercise first thing in the morning, the new avengers' facilities were crowded, you needed time to think calmly, so you opted to go for a run in the middle of nature. You had decided to dedicate 24 hours of that day to yourself, without alarming worries, the only worries you wanted to have in mind were what to wear and where you would end the night, the most ordinary worries possible.

You wished there was a mission that week that would have sent all your colleagues away, so you wouldn't have to put up with their joking comments about it, but apparently it was the most important event of the week.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not listening," you said, raising your voice without removing your headphones from your ears, assuming that Sam and Natasha's laughter was accompanied by some joking comment about your date that night with 'Mr. CIA', as they referred to him.

You made your way to your bedroom, eager to wash away the sweat that was soaking under a stream of cold water. Back In Black' drifted into your ears through your headphones, abstracting you from your surroundings and keeping your heart rate up, but suddenly the melody cut out to hear F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice through the headphones, breaking the moment.

"Miss Y/L/N," his volume was almost louder than your melody which made you gasp, "Mr. Stark is waiting for you in his office."

"Now?!" you complained, barely able to hear your voice because of the blockage in your ears.

You rolled your eyes and retraced your steps to Tony's office in the other wing of the building. You turned the music back on, avoiding having to listen to the comments of your colleagues as you walked back through the room, who of course had not given up on making you angry, but always with a touch of humour and love. Tony's office was with the door open, you switched off the music and could hear him having a rather ironic conversation with probably some high official of the state, lately you were being bombarded with his attacks.

"I hope I never have the pleasure again," he said pacing with one hand tucked in his trouser pocket. "Sure."

As he hung up the phone he rested both his hands on the desk, apparently he was so abstracted that he hadn't even noticed your presence.

"Are you all right?" you asked as you saw Tony's worried face, which he probably would never have allowed you to see if it wasn't for the fact that he didn't know you were there.

At your words he quickly lifted his chin and stood back up as if nothing had happened, a smile on his face offering to play down the importance of the event.

"Great, you're here," he said, slipping both hands into his pockets and rounding the desk to approach you.

"Yeah, F.R.I.D.A.Y said you wanted to talk to me," you commented taking the headphones out of your ears and stuffing them into the pockets of your sweat shorts.

"Yep," he slowly rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "I hear you've got a date tonight with..."

"Oh no, please, you too..."

"Listen," he interrupted you just as you had done before. "Tonight you're meeting with... what's his name? Oh, yes! Mr. CIA-"

"His name is Fred," you cut him off, crossing your arms as you wondered what he had on his mind. waiting for what he had in mind to tell you.

"Fred," he pointed an index finger at you, arching his eyebrows. "I've never liked that name, a bit of a ridiculous diminutive don't you think? If it comes from Frederick of course..." he began to ramble, gesturing with his hands, not giving you a clue as to what you had come for.

"Tony," you interrupted him.

"Okay, never mind," he slipped his right hand into his trouser pocket and pulled out a set of keys.  "For you."

You uncrossed your arms, confusion had flooded your mind, why was Tony offering you that set of keys? Hesitantly, you slowly took the keys between your fingers and looked at them carefully. They were all quite unique, not at all like ordinary people's keys, they were full of electronic add-ons.

"Firstly, where are they from? And secondly, why are you giving them to me?" you ask without stopping analysing them.

"They're from one of the safe houses I own in Manhattan," he informed you, pointing them out."More than a flat, a building.

That information puzzled you even more.

"I don't understand," you said frankly, looking him in the eye.

"You just told me you're going into town tonight because you have a date with Fred?" he said again.

"And what does that have to do with you giving me the keys to a safe house?" you asked without finding a clear connection in the fact.

"Building," he rectified, to which you rolled your eyes. "Listen, have dinner with him, enjoy the evening, but then if... you know, things get..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, okay," you said holding up your hands stopping him before he finished the words. "I got it, I got it."

"...hot take it there," he continued without paying attention to you and flashing a half smile, "don't go to Mr. CIA's house."

You nodded with a slightly uncomfortable smile for having had that conversation while collecting all the keys in your clenched fist. All you wanted to do was get out of there and take a shower to wash the cold sweat off your body.

"Thank you so much for your concern Tony," you said a little wryly walking backwards trying to tackle the door as soon as possible.

"You're welcome," he said enjoying your uncomfortable feeling. "And remember, always safe sex."

You shook your head and rolled your eyes and walked out without looking back. Putting on your helmets didn't stop those three letters from wandering through your thoughts, it had been so long since you'd had sex that you'd almost forgotten how to feel when you were possibly about to get laid again. If it had been three years since you'd joined the Avengers, exactly three years, that should be a bloody crime. But you couldn't blame yourself, you didn't even have enough confidence in yourself, how could you offer it to someone else.

The next few hours were all about you, about your self-care, gaining enough confidence to live again. That black silk dress that reached almost to the floor fell loosely over your body, leaving a plunging neckline and an open back, held up by thin straps. It had been so long since you had looked like that that you could hardly recognise yourself, you had left that time behind, but it was in your hands again. You grabbed a small handbag and after putting the finishing touches to your lipstick you left your bedroom, the longed-for walk of shame awaited you until you reached the car that was waiting to take you to the city.

"Alright, I don't want you to say anything," you informed before walking across the room, where some of your classmates were gathered, luckily some of them were preparing dinner so they weren't present.

"Wow!" exclaimed Sam, smacking Steve's chest, who just smiled and nodded at you, offering you one of his few-word approvals.

"Enjoy your evening," said Nat approaching you and giving you a little hug. "And you know what to do if you need me, one phone call and I'll break his legs."

You smiled after hearing those words whispered in your ears and headed for the exit. The car was as ready as you were to start your journey, you just got in and headed towards the big apple following the Hudson River. The lights, the big skyscrapers, the people walking through the streets, the traffic, you were definitely in New York. You looked at your watch, there were ten minutes left to meet Fred at the place he had booked and you were looking forward to, but life always has twists and turns that take us by surprise, and there was one for you.

One last last minute twist of fate had come Fred's way, informing you just as the car had pulled up outside the restaurant, completely changing your established idea of how the evening was going to go. It wasn't a feeling of anger that came over you, on the contrary, the disappointment was so strong that it was impossible for you to set off back to the avengers' compound, you would be the most embarrassed person if in less than an hour you turned up again under sympathetic glances. You had the keys inside your bag that Tony had offered you, so you would use them, and tomorrow morning you would be on your way home.

Tony's building was located in Lower Manhattan, just as he had called it, a frank building full of all the comforts and technologies, it resembled the Stark Tower but without the external façade, everything was inside. When you walked in you discovered that Tony had arranged for it to be fitted out with all the romantic necessities he thought you would need that night. The finest French champagne was on the lounge table along with a couple of glasses and a basket of your favourite chocolates.

You plopped down on the sofa with no desire to do anything, kicking off your heels, but at that moment you remembered that you had the house to yourself. You got up and grabbed the bottle of champagne along with the box of chocolates and took the lift to the rooftop. New York was really something to see from the heights and right now you had it all at your feet. You didn't know how long you sat in that armchair waiting for the hours to pass, but the bottle was half full.

"Nice view."

Your heart flipped as you heard those words behind you. Tony's figure suddenly appeared and stood beside you.

"What-what are you doing here?" you asked as you stood up, abandoning the champagne.

"The same thing I want to ask you," with his hands in his pockets he looked up at you. "Have you been crying?"

"No!" you exclaimed, crossing your arms mostly because of the cold wind that was blowing against your skin.

"Where's Fred?" asked Tony taking off his black blazer and covering you with it.

"He had...work..." you said almost in a whisper leaning against the railing to avoid looking at him. "What are you doing here?"

"F.R.I.D.A.Y told me you'd arrived," he commented as he continued to stare at you. "Alone."

You nodded biting your tongue cursing at his AI, who was informing him of every move you were making at every moment.

"Why didn't you go back to the facility?" he asked, closing the distance to you.

"Do you really need me to answer that?" you said looking at him.

"Why didn't you call me?" he stood next to you at the railing.

"Do you need me to answer that too?" you arched an eyebrow. "I wanted to be alone, well, I really want to be alone Tony."

Your companion stared at you, brought his index finger to your face to push back a strand of your hair that prevented him from fully contemplating you. Your relationship with Tony had always been complex, strangely complex. You'd known him for three years and you still didn't quite understand him, you didn't know which section of your social life to classify him in, and situations like that were the ones that still puzzled you the most. There was a time when you thought there was a deeper connection between you, your relationship with him wasn't the same as you used to have with Sam or Steve, it was different. But at no point in your lives had you decided to talk about it.

In those moments, as you had told him, you wanted to be alone, but you weren't. There was Tony beside you, looking at you, looking at your face, looking at your lips, creating a strange situation for you.

"What are you doing?" you whispered, directing your gaze to his eyes that remained fixed on your lips.

"The correct question is..." Tony's voice became deeper. "What are you doing to me?"

It was right after those words that you definitely knew what you were doing to him, when Tony furtively closed the distance to you, bringing his lips close to yours, looking for a response from you. However, that event caught you so off guard that you reacted even against your will, offering him a shove to create distance between the two of you again.

"What the hell are you doing!" you exclaimed with wide eyes, stunned, trying to analyse what had just happened.

"Kissing you?" Tony's tone of indifference, it wasn't like usual, it had a mixture of guilt in it. "Come on! We're not just friends and you fucking know it."

You were trying to connect the pieces with the sensations you were feeling at the moment, surprise and indignation mixed with sexual tension and passion, it was all very confusing. You could barely hear what Tony was saying to you at the moment, he was rambling again, but you couldn't resist him, and though you would probably hate yourself for it the next morning you silenced his words by pulling him to you, causing his jacket to slip off his shoulders and fall to the floor. It caught him off guard, but it didn't take long for him to react and bring his hands to your bare back to pull you closer to his body.

The warmth of his rough hands running over your soft skin made you shiver. Until that moment you hadn't realised the need you felt for someone to hold you in their hands, the need for Tony to hold you. His taste running over your lips, your tongue, it was just as you had dreamed, you were being completely taken in by his kisses, running down your neck softly until he reached your collarbones where he slowly slid his tongue. It was like being lost between two worlds and not finding your way out, but you really didn't want to find it.

Soft moans came from inside you, wanting to inform him of the need you were feeling at that moment for him, to have him all to yourself. It had been so long since someone had made you feel this way, you thought your body was going to explode at any moment. Gently Tony's fingers reached up to the thin strap that was held firmly over your left shoulder, letting it slowly fall down your upper arm to give him better accessibility to kiss you.

"It's been so long..." those words left your lips as if they were a plea.

"I know sweetheart," he whispered brushing his lips against your earlobe. "Come with me."

Tony's fingers intertwined with yours, guiding you into the building. You let him lead you down the steps, until finally you found yourself inside a large bedroom, returning to where you had left off, rekindling the need between you. You surrendered yourself to his caresses and kisses again, feeling alive. You tried to undo the knot of the tie that was allowing you so little of Tony's body to be seen, but his hands went faster than yours and held you back. The smile on Tony's face showed you that he intended to prolong those games, but you were thinking of going further, you needed to go further.

"Come on Tony..." you pleaded hoping he felt as needy as you did at that moment.

"Where to?" he asked, slowly caressing the silky fabric of the dress at your thighs.

"Stop teasing me," you murmured, but instantly your tone became more self-assured. "Or I'll be the one to start teasing with you."

Firmly you brought your hands to his chest to offer him a gentle push away from you, just enough distance for him to watch as you very slowly brought your hands to the straps and let them fall down the length of your arms, causing the black dress to fall to your feet. You were practically naked, except for a pair of lacy black panties, under the watchful eyes of those brown eyes that seemed consumed by what they were seeing. 

"Oh, baby. I'm gonna fuck you so hard that you forgot you ever met that asshole," you bit your lower lip, inwardly begging for him to make good on those words. Even though he had already partly done it, he had made you forget about him completely.

You approached him very slowly, it almost hurt, you brought your hands to the collar of his shirt, rubbing his neck with your index fingers, slowly unbuttoning the buttons to check the nakedness of his torso. You uncovered the reactor, which you kissed and then you got down on your knees, getting to the height of his member, which was completely erect. Tony watched your movements with pleasure, letting you express yourself freely, putting you to the test.

Having finished unbuttoning his shirt, you chose to unbutton his trousers with extreme caution, the view from Tony's height was marvellous, and you knew it, so you looked away for a moment to see how he was enjoying watching you.

"Do you like what you see?" you whispered knowing the answer as you unzipped his trousers, feeling his cock rise even more under your touch.

"Oh honey, you know, you really shouldn't tease me," his words came out along with a slight moan, which brought a proud smile to your mouth.

Without a second thought you brought your hands to the top of his boxers and with a subtle brush you pulled them down until the top of his member was presented before your eyes, completely reddened, waiting to be attended to. You closed your eyes, approaching him only to brush him with the tip of your tongue. That warmth you offered him generated a deafening noise from inside Tony's throat who kept looking at you as if his dilated pupils were going to explode at any moment, and who didn't hesitate to place his right hand on the back of your neck to encourage you to continue, but you reacted totally the opposite of what he wanted and again rose up to put yourself at the level of his face.

"You're playing with fire," Tony raised the corner of his lip mischievously, having checked how you were playing with him, "and you just got burned."

His two hands gripping your naked hips tightly was all it took to pull you to the bed and let you fall onto the white sheets. You discovered your own need in his lust-filled eyes, which watched you as he dropped his shirt to the floor and shed his trousers, leaving only his member covered by the thin fabric of his black boxers. You knew you had teased him and it came at a price, a price you were willing to pay at any time, in fact you were willing to pay it.

His body pushed you back against the mattress, you let out a small moan as you discovered that his hands were slowly undoing the only question you had left on your body, your panties, which were slowly sliding down your thighs.

"Tell me how much you need me," his rough voice against your right nipple made you close your eyes and open your needy mouth.

"I need to feel you." You requested as best you could.

"Say please." Tony commanded dropping his lips to your left breast.

"Please..." you begged watching his every action.

"Are you gonna be good for me?" Tony's mouth found itself sliding between your hips, trailing his tongue back and forth.

"I... "you paused for air. "I promise I'll be good."

"Good..." his face disappeared from your sight, moving deeper between your thighs. "Now I want you to forget everyone but me."

As if you were in seventh fucking heaven his warm breath collided with your warmth. Just as you had done a few minutes ago, Tony slid his tongue along every millimetre of your folds, taking pride in the sound it made you externalise. You barely remembered what it felt like, what the deafening pleasure felt like, making your skin burn, your insides scream with pleasure, your need present in every part of your skin, and you weren't afraid to externalise everything you felt. Tony felt himself reveling in the taste of you, punishing you for teasing him earlier, leaving you half-hearted every time you felt you were about to explode.

It was inevitable for you to start moaning his name, wanting him to make use of his hands, to let you cum with pleasure.

"I want your fingers inside me." You commanded, not caring that you sounded so needy, tangling your fingers in Tony's hair.

But recreating the same action you had done to him, he pulled his lips away from your clit to look at you with extreme excitement in his pupils.

"Tony, I need to feel you." You reminded him as he watched you while barely making physical contact with you. "I need you so bad..."

"I know honey," he whispered approaching your face and running his tongue over your lips. "I'm not done with you yet."

When he steps back he offers you the confirmation you needed, his boxers begin to slide down his legs, releasing his full erection, knowing that this was all you needed inside you at the moment. His body reaches up to grab a condom from the drawer in the coffee table, but at no time does he look away from you, tempting you with a slide of your tongue across his lips, causing you to be quicker than he is and steal the condom from his hands. As he does, you reach down and before you put it on, you place a soft kiss on the tip of his cock.

Tony doesn't hesitate to grab your hips and pull you back to the position he needed you to be, between the mattress and his body. After trapping your lips between his he uttered words you could never forget, and which caused your clit to spasm slightly, "I'm gonna fuck you until you beg me to stop." You clenched your jaw and let him thrust inside you with a slowness that you found insufferable, but which caused your moans for the first time to blend together as one in the air.

Your hands prevented his body from separating from yours, drawing him into you. Your control points were completely gone, you had been waiting so long to destroy the barriers that prevented you from having pleasure that at that moment all your senses were fully expanded, every cell in your body wanted to explode with pleasure, and Tony was getting it so easily.

"I'm so close..." you uttered between moans, making Tony's speed start to increase.

"Come for me, honey." He whispered against your lips, pressing into a tight kiss.

His words were a command to your body, who decided the moment had come, exploding, letting your lust take you over completely. You moaned the name "Tony" as you allowed your sensations to invade every part of you, closing around Tony, who relished every sound and movement you made, and who couldn't resist hearing you utter his name, causing his hips to pick up even more speed, cumming right after you.

The cumulus of sensations and feeling was mutual, causing your bodies to fall into each other after everything that had just happened that night in that building on Manhattan Island. It took you a few minutes to react, catching your breath again and realising what had just happened between the two of you.

Taglist Open (DM)

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[reids-rendering-reality]

Blind Date

Summary: Derek Morgan sets up two of his friends for a blind date. They have never heard of each other or seen each other. But something tells Derek’s intuition they would get along well.

Type: fluff

Warnings: talking about serial killers

Word Count: 1.9K

Spencer Reid’s POV

I walked into work on a regular Tuesday morning, coffee in hand, a book tucked under my arm and my bag draped over my shoulder. I wasn’t expecting anything at all, being the first to walk in as per usual. Following my typical routine for paperwork day I sat down at my desk and went through file after file on that big pile in front of me. After about 30 minutes the others walked in. Still, everything appeared completely normal. So normal in fact, that it was almost suspicious.

“Hey, pretty boy,“ Derek said loudly as he walked directly towards me, without even stopping at his desk first, “I have an idea that you’re not going to like at first, but you’ll agree to anyway.“

“If I’m not going to like it, why would I agree to it?“ I asked curiously and looked up at him as he came to a halt right in front of my desk.

“Because I am asking you to and you will thank me later. Now hear me out please.“

“Alright,“ I responded, shifting in my seat towards him and pushing my glasses up a little.

“So, you know how the other day you said that you never go out on dates?” He obviously noticed my face flush as my eyes darted around the room to check if someone else was listening, “I was thinking, how about I play the wingman to help you get a date?”

“You want to play the what?” I asked confused and shocked simultaneously.

“Forget it,” he said hastily, “what I’m trying to say is, I set you up for a date.”

“You did what?” I could hear my voice getting louder the more shocked Derek made me. Again looking around, I noticed Emily exiting the elevator.

“A friend of mine – a female friend, who is also single – recently complained to me how she always dates the bad guys and how she just wishes for a good guy to come along and sweep her off her feet. So I set up a blind date for you guys. Listen, Spencer, I know this is uncomfortable for you, but it’ll be fun. Just agree to it and see what happens. You can become friends with her or never speak to her again afterward. But just give it a shot, maybe you’ll even get lucky,” Derek grinned at me.

I thought about it for a moment. Why was I even considering it? This is a crazy idea! She probably wouldn’t like me anyway and I would just embarrass myself for a few hours before going home and reading the book just as I had planned. But the way Derek was looking at me like he would never let me say now, and just that little sliver of something similar to hope made me nod my head slowly and uncertainly.

“Great! Wait – it was that easy to convince you?” Derek asked, a little shocked.

“It was this easy to convince him to do what?” Emily, who now reached us, interjected.

I went to yell a quick “nothing” before the situation got out of hand, but Derek was faster and began explaining the scenario.

“And he agreed to a blind date? Looks like our genius isn’t that much of a recluse after all,” Emily mused as she walked away towards her desk.

---

Y/N’s POV

To say I was nervous was an understatement. I hadn’t been on a proper date in like forever plus 2. But I promised Derek I wouldn’t bail on him and go to the restaurant anyways.

So here I was, entering a beautiful Vietnamese restaurant that Derek picked out 5 minutes before 8 pm on a Friday. To ensure the blind-dateness of it all, the table was reserved in Derek’s name. And he picked the perfect spot. In the back corner, a little bit further from everyone else, but with a view out the window into Washington D.C’s buzzing nightlife.

The waitress led me to the table, which was not yet occupied. I sat down against the wall to make sure I would see whoever came in. Taking off my coat to reveal my satin dress underneath I shivered lightly at the lack of warmth. Maybe it was the nerves too. Taking a deep breath and looking out the window into the night, I tried to force myself to calm down. I did not want to make a bad impression on one of Derek’s friends. If he was one of his friends? I knew nothing about this man. Just that it was one. A man.

Just as I began getting lost in my thoughts of who would be my dining partner, I noticed footsteps approaching me. My clock read 7:58. At least he’s very punctual. Looking up towards the body the feet belonged to, my heart began beating faster.

In front of me was a tall, handsome man with longish hair, dressed in a fine black suit and a deep crimson shirt. He looked shy, his eyes wide open and his lips slightly parted. He turned to thank the waitress and I examined his portrait. Ugh, he was definitely attractive. I thanked Derek in my thoughts for knowing my type and giving this man a head start.

“Can I sit here?” his voice was quiet as if he were as uncertain as I was. I nodded and smiled slightly, to calm both his nerves and mine. He sat down and for the first time our eyes properly met. And for a second we just stared.

I was the first to look away, my nervousness taking over, “um- I’m Y/N”.

“Hi, I’m Spencer,” he said more confidently now.

After exchanging the expected small talk about how we both knew Derek and what we did for a living, we ordered our food. This is the moment I feared. Chitter chatter out of the way, waiting for the food. What if there was nothing to talk about now?

“You’re studying medicine?” he asked to draw my attention and I nodded, “how are you enjoying it?”

And boy, he should not have asked that. With my heart racing in my chest, so were my words. I began a ramble on how I always wanted to study it and what excited me the most. When I realised how much I was talking I abruptly stopped with an awkward, “so yes. I am enjoying it.”

He grinned slightly, which eased some of my nervousness. I smiled back at him slightly.

“I’ve been meaning to say, you look beautiful tonight,” he said and for the first time that evening, he sounded confident. I guess my ramble eased his nerves too. Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I quietly thanked him.

Right then, the waiter came and brought our food. We ate in silence for a little while, but it wasn’t awkward. If anything, it was serene. We looked at each other occasionally, appreciating the other’s presence.

After a while, Spencer spoke up, “did you know that the reason why Vietnamese food is so healthy is partly because they don’t use that much oil? And of course also because the food contains so many vitamins, like C, B1, B6, and B3, but also many trace elements, for example, zinc, copper, magnesium, and potassium.”

I looked up at him as he started talking and nodded attentively, “no. I did not know that. But now I feel encouraged to eat Vietnamese more often.”

 We finished our dinner with pleasant conversation, Spencer interjecting a few interesting facts here and there. I quickly realised he must be incredibly intelligent, which made me even more attracted to him. But I must admit, I was pretty proud when I knew some of his facts and could even add to them with my knowledge. For example when we got to the topic of serial killers (which of course was unavoidable given his job):

“So one gene that could make a person psychopathic is the gene coding for monoamine oxidase A. If you have one version of it, the protein becomes ineffective and can’t break down your brain’s monoamines like serotonin, dopamine, and norepinephrine. One study on a family in Holland found that they all had a version of it where the protein was completely ineffective. And they had unusually high levels of aggression and violence in that family,” Spencer said. His speed was almost hard to keep up with, but me hanging onto every word he said helped.

“I know! But the gene alone doesn’t suffice to make someone more aggressive. A study found that which gene version you have interacts with your environment during childhood. In maltreated children the effect on aggression can be seen way stronger than in children with a normal childhood,” I responded excitedly, leaning forward onto the table.

But Spencer didn’t respond. Instead, he froze, his lips parting as his jaw dropped a little. He stared at me with an emotion that appeared to me like shock mixed with fascination – and maybe awe? I didn’t know what to do so I just looked back at him shyly, feeling a blush creeping onto my cheeks.

 That night, Spencer drove me home, like a gentleman. When we arrived at my apartment, he got out of the car and walked me to the door.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” I said softly looking up at him.

“Me too,” he smiled, and then a sudden wave of nervousness washed over him, “would you maybe – I don’t know – want to… do this again some time? Only if you want to of course.”

A smile spread onto my lips as well, “I’d love to.”

---

Spencer’s POV

The Monday following my dinner with Y/N, I walked into the office with a slight bounce in my step. I was still ecstatic over how well it went, and that I even had a chance with her. We had texted all weekend, about anything and everything.

“Hey Reid, come over here,” Derek shouted at me from his desk.

My face instantly flushed as I realised I would now have to spill all the details to him.

“How did the date with Y/N go?” he asked curiously. I could feel the eyes of Emily and JJ on the back of my neck from Emily’s desk.

“Um- it went well, I guess,” I said, shuffling my feet around awkwardly.

“It went well? Come on, Spence, give us more details!” JJ said as the two of them came to join me and Derek as well.

“Yeah, I mean we talked a lot and she enjoyed my fun facts. We will go on a second date soon, we even texted all weekend,” I stuttered, not meeting any of them in the eye.

“See? What did I tell you, Reid? You would not regret this,” Derek told me and then turned to the girls, “am I one hell of a matchmaker or not?”

They giggled slightly as my hands reached up to feel my burning skin.

“I knew she would be your type, just like you’re exactly hers. Enjoy it, kid, she’s a keeper for sure,” Derek said while patting my shoulder as he left for the coffee machine.

[zmalkarnar1]

What About Us? Part II: Oikawa x Male Reader

Here is the second part of the Oikawa x Male reader I posted the other week. Wasn’t satisfied leaving it where it was. 

Again, if you aren’t ahead in the manga there are spoilers. Enjoy.

“Iwa-chan, I have to get this done!”

“No. You need a break Y/n.” Iwaizumi said, pulling Y/n away from his computer and through his pigsty apartment.

“But Iwaizumi, just another thirty minutes...no, just another hour and I can be done with this piece,” Y/n whined, pulling back towards his pc. 

“Y/n, we agreed to meet with Hanamaki and Matsukawa for lunch. We would’ve been there already, but I swear you’re as bad as Trashykawa, forgetting everything except your art.”

“Just a little bit, I just need a little more time,” Y/n pleaded, trying to pull away from Iwaizumi.

“Y/n. I will carry your ass outside and drag you by your ear.”

“But Iwa-chan…”

“Now,” he said, arms crossed, exasperated as if he was dealing with a child. He probably was. Y/n wilted under Iwaizumi’s gaze, and slowly got up, shoulders slouched. Iwaizumi hung his arm around him. 

“It’ll be fine. Some time with friends will do you good.

Giving d/n a pat goodbye, Y/n let Iwaizumi lead the way to the restaurant they had promised to meet their friends. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, Y/n’s eyes gazed at the surrounding cityscape, the final vestiges of winter fading away as the new birth of spring sprouted forward. Iwaizumi was right; he needed a break. Though he’d never admit it to his friend. Even his walks with d/n have been little more than fever dreams to him, everything was focused back on his work.

“Man, it's nice out. You should have told me the weather was this great,” Y/n teased knowing full well Iwaizumi had done just that.

Iwaizumi stopped and stared deadpan at Y/n. He’d forgotten that Y/n was sometimes just as bad as Oikawa, well, not quite as bad. At least, he’s gotten worse ever since they left high school. Iwaizumi always let it slide; he figured it was how Y/n dealt with all the stress piling up on him. Y/n was always cheerful, and a bit of a tease, but Iwaizumi knew that more often than not, it was a façade, a smokescreen. He was hiding his pain, just like he did in high school. Iwaizumi wasn’t fooled however. 

“You’re really tired, aren’t you?”

“Huh? No more than normal,” Y/n said, that ghost of a smile returning to his face. “Why’d you ask? Worried about me?”

“Yes, I am. Trashykawa told me how you’ve been working yourself into a mental breakdown,” 

“Oikawa, that snitch!” Y/n cursed under his breath. He should have known Tooru was going to rat on him to Iwaizumi. 

“Yea, he is, but you really can’t keep on like this. Ever since he went back to Argentina you’ve been even more of a recluse. You barely even check your texts!” Iwaizumi said

Y/n sighed, letting his walls lip for a moment. Iwaizumi was right. He was always consumed with work. He loved his aft, his animation. He loved that his work was enjoyed and held dear to thousands around the world. Despite the high demands of his employers, and the fact he barely survives week to week, he still loved art. But now it was something else.

Ever since he had met Tooru that winter, it's like he was woken up from a trance. After they left high school, all throughout college, everything had happened so fast. His mother sick, his father leaving; Y/n was exhausted and broken down. Before Oikawa showed up, he was barely alive, just walking through each day, one after the other, barely recognizing the world around him. He had lost so much, and, Y/n admitted, work allowed him an excuse to bury his exhaustion and pain deep inside, trapped behind a wall so thick he became numb to the emotions roiling inside of him. His pain and tears hidden away, his work was the perfect escape, despite the endless tasks his job required. It was his way to shy away from the world. Better to be busy than alone. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t cry, or feel the loss of his family, he just didn’t want to confront it, not alone like he was. He didn’t want to feel so hollow, so torn, alone. So he worked, and worked, until Tooru showed up on his evening walk one winter day, and the dam that had begun to leak from overwork and exhaustion burst. His memories and old feelings he left unresolved boiling to the surface. And now he couldn’t get his mind off of Oikawa. Oikawa, who sent him a text encouraging him each day, a word of support awaiting him on his phone each morning as he woke. 

And every week, Tooru found time to call him, sharing volleyball stories and giving Y/n a chance to destress from work. Each call happened during Y/n’s waking hours, which meant Oikawa must have been getting up at ungodly hours just for a chat. With Y/n’s unresolved feelings with Tooru came all his damned emotions, threatening to tear him apart, and the last thing he wanted to do was show weakness to his friends again.

So, Y/n did the only thing he knew, throwing himself into a job that was slowly killing him. He stopped responding immediately to Oikawa’s morning texts. He let the past two calls go to voicemail. Too busy with work, deadlines with animes being pushed up. He could talk next week.

Y/n vaguely remembered talking with Oikawa for a few minutes before making a weak excuse about work again. In truth, he really didn’t want to handle these emotions right now, and as stressful as work could be, his art allowed him to be numb and bury them all away.  But since Tooru kept coming back, it was getting harder and harder to hold them in check.

“You know Y/n, you’re going to have to deal with your feelings and emotions eventually,” Iwaizumi said

Y/n stumbled, “What? What do you mean?”

“Even a blind man can see that you’re hiding your feelings for Oikawa behind your work. You’ve done that for years. You’re going to have to face him eventually.” Iwaizumi said, shrugging. Perhaps Y/n wasn’t as good an actor as he thought. 

“This coming from you? All your emotion is wrapped up in violence,” Y/n scoffed.

“At least I’m a stable, functioning adult.”

“Hey! I’m functioning!” Y/n argued

“You’d forget to buy food if I didn’t stop around every once and a while.”

“That only happened once!”

“It’s not my fault the two of you have the emotional intelligence of a toddler.” Iwaizumi said

“Iwa-chan, so mean” Y/n whined in imitation of Oikawa

“Don’t be like him or I’ll whack you!” Iwaizumi laughed, “Anyways, you really are going to need to find some way to work through your emotions. You’ve held in everything that’s happened since high school and your mother’s death. Consider this an intervention.”

“I know,” Y/n said, aware that he was right. “Food first. Emotions can wait.” Forever, if Y/n had his choice. “How’s work with the national team going?”

“It’s busy. Honestly, I’m always a little worried that Ushijima is going to break Hinata’s face one of these days at the rare times the team is actually together.”

“Must be fun though,” Y/n hummed. 

Y/n let Iwaizumi ramble on about his work, glad to be off the topic of the emotional wreck that is his life. He didn’t really listen, and he knew Iwaizumi could tell, but he couldn’t focus on the words. Oikawa was back in his head, and he kept wondering when he’d be able to move past it all. 

By the time they made their way to the restaurant, Maki and Mattsun were already there. They already had drinks. Apparently they’d been waiting a while. How late was he? As he went to sit next to Iwaizumi, Makki was already teasing him.

“You know, I remember when you’d get all flustered why you were even a minute late to class,”

Y/n blushed, “Oh shut up Makki. At least I passed all my classes. What was your Algebra II grade again?”

“He’s right. Remember when Y/n panicked when he forgot about the English test?” Mattsun said,

“Oh, I won’t forget that,” Iwaizumi laughed, slapping Y/n on the back, “Was so afraid of failing he skipped class, hiding in a broom closet, and somehow managed to lock himself in.”

“Stop it!” Y/n whined, “I left my work for this!” The others just laughed. It was all in good fun, he knew. 

As their food came and went, Y/n allowed himself to step away from work and enjoy an afternoon with old friends. He still kept his walls up though. He was strong enough to not fall apart in front of his friends. 

“So how is Oikawa?” Mattsun asked, bringing up the topic that Y/n had been purposely avoiding for the entire lunch.

“He’s fine, I guess.” Y/n said, “Big game coming up in a week or two.”

“You guess? Aren’t you talking to him every week?” Makki asked

“Y/n here has been ghosting him because he’s afraid that he likes him again,” Iwaizumi teased

“Iwa-chan, stop it!”

“Oh, stop pretending you don’t care for him. We can all tell you’re still inexplicably obsessed with Oikawa.”

“Stop it!” Y/n begged, a slight blush forming, “Can we change the topic. Please?”

“Ok, we’ll stop teasing you. For now.” Iwaizumi said, as Y/n nodded gratefully. 

Y/n left the restaurant with Iwaizumi, heading back to take d/n for his afternoon walk to the park.

“What are you going to do Y/n? You really can’t keep on like this.”

“I know. I’ll figure something out. Thanks Iwa-chan,”

“I can walk with you and d/n for a bit if you want,” Iwaizumi said, “I have nothing else planned today,”

“No thanks. I need to think this through on my own,” Y/n said, waving farewell to Iwaizumi.

And then he was alone again, walking d/n down the very path that brought him to his fateful reunion with this old boyfriend, and shattered the illusion he had been living under. If he could even call it living.

“What do I do, d/n?” Y/n whispered, scratching the dog’s ears before throwing his tennis ball again, watching d/n rush through the dog park after it. 

I still like him. God I don’t want to feel like this anymore.

Y/n took a seat on the new spring growth of grass as d/n came bounding back to him. The animal, sensing Y/n’s discomfort, sat down next to him and dropped his head on Y/n’s shoulder. 

Y/n chuckled, scratching his ears again, “Thanks d/n.”

Sitting together with d/n, Y/n knew what he had to do. Before he did anything else, he needed to resolve things with Oikawa, however they played out. He took out his phone and rang Iwaizumi. He was going to need a big favor. 

Oikawa sat down in the locker room before the game. It was the biggest game of the year. Biggest game since the Olympics the previous summer. This game would decide if him and his team would enter into the Men's Volleyball Club World Championship Tournament. Tobio was sure to be there. Oikawa would too, in order to show his former underclassmen that he was now the superior setter.

Yet for the first time, his mind wasn’t entirely on the game. No matter how he tried to settle in and prepare as normal, his thoughts drifted back to Y/n./ Y/n had been ghosting him. Not fully, but even when they did talk, he had been distant and full of excuses in order to slip away. And then suddenly he texted saying they had something they needed to talk about. 

Oikawa was worried. Has something happened? Had he pushed too hard? He wanted to give him space, but he was worried for his old friend. His love. Was Y/n okay, or was it that he just didn’t want to talk with Oikawa anymore? Was their relationship truly and fully broken? Never had Oikawa been so distracted from volleyball. He knew he dealt with the break up by throwing himself further into the game. But now that he’d had that chance meeting, he couldn’t deny it; he still loved Y/n. Because no matter what happened, he was always the one who supported his volleyball dream, and was there for every win and every loss. He left the locker room, his thoughts still lost and confused. 

Y/n cheered, poster in hand, as the players emerged onto the court to warm up. He had watched the Olympic games, but this was his first time seeing a league game. It’s not like they showed Argentine Volleyball League games in Japan. When the game started, he only had eyes for Oikawa

Tooru’s game was off. Y/n could tell that something was bothering him. He could see him make mistakes, however slight, preventing his team from getting into a rhythm. A toss too high, one too close to the net. The game was still close, but Tooru’s team just couldn’t seem to take the lead. Y/n felt a little guilty. Was it him, his ghosting, his late night message, throwing his old friend off?

It can’t be. Nothing has ever broken his focus from Volleyball before…

Oikawa muttered to himself. He wasn’t playing well. By no means was it bad, but his tosses refused to leave his hands the way they should. They were always just a touch off. Too low here, too far from the net there. And then he’d scramble, overcompensating for the next one. And his team became unhinged. 

Their receives became shaky, and their spikes wild as they began to rush. A setter's job was to restore balance to his team. That’s what Blanco would have done. But today, Oikawa was spinning them closer and closer to disaster. He was the farthest he’d ever been from reaching his goal. He couldn’t get Y/n off his mind. Even his serves faltered.

They went down the first set. It was okay. It was only one set. The second they brought to a deuce, but fell a few rallies later. His chances of making the Club World Championship this year slipping further and further away. And still Y/n invaded his thoughts. They’d have to be perfect the rest of the match.

But things started off the same way. Oikawa’s first serve slamming down just outside the line. 0-1. The next few rallies were short, but slowly and surely they fell behind. 7-9. Oikawa’s toss went just a breadth too high again, and the spike was dug, blasting back down on their side of the court. 7-10. The serve came at them, their libero flying it high up above the team. A good receive, if a little off center. Under it right away, Tooru set it to his middle blocker, already in the air. It was good, and the quick passed through the block, only to be dug before it could reach the floor. Back at them, barely dug, Oikawa’s team scrambled to get it over, a chance ball for their opponents. The toss flew up, the block in place and shutting down the avenues of attack. The spike came down hard anyways, blasting off the block and heading towards the stands.

Oikawa was after it a split second later, diving into the group towards the sign boards, he blasted the ball back up in the air to his team. But as he scrambled up, something in the second row caught his eyes. He usually ignored the crowds during games like these, but a poster was written in Japanese, and he couldn’t help but stop to read it, even as his team were barely treading enough water to keep their heads above the stormy surf of the match. 

Go Tooru, Go. Rule the Court.

Only one person would create a banner like that for him. Still on his knees, he brought his gaze up and me e/c eyes sparkling down at him, Y/n’s smile full and invigorating, cheering his name. “Go Tooru, go!”

Oikawa froze. His mind went blank. Every time he tried to bring it back to the game, it fell apart. Only one thought remained. 

Y/n is here. Cheering for me. In Argentina, in the front rows, watching and cheering for me. He came all the way across the globe to watch me play.

For the first time that he could remember, Oikawa completely forgot about volleyball as the rally ended, him still staring up at Y/n. He completely forgot about volleyball. At that moment the only thought going through his mind was that no matter what happened, him and Y/n were going to be okay. Then he heard his voice again, screaming over the crowd. 

“Remember Tooru, the team strongest as a group of six is the stronger team!” Y/n called out. 

All the frustration and worries wracking his mind fell away and he was back into the game. With Y/n at his back, nothing could go wrong. And he remembered Iwa-chan’s words. Stronger as a group of six. He’d been trying to force everything on his own, just like when he was a kid.

Tooru stood up, shaking his head and dusting off his jersey. Looking back up to Y/n he gave him the warmest smile he could and a simple nod. Then, he was back to the game.

“Sorry,” he said to his team as he returned to the court, “but I’m back now.”

His team only nodded, seeing something change in his eyes, and the match truly began.

Y/n looked down into Tooru’s dazzling brown eyes, eyes he always seemed to get lost in. Then he realized the rally was still going on, and Tooru was still on his yankees, staring up at him as if he were a phantom. Y/n’s heart fluttered and a tear threatened to fall from his eyes. Had Tooru really forgotten about the rally? For him? Indeed, when the ball finally slammed down a moment later, Tooru was still looking up at him. Yes, Tooru really did forget about volleyball for him. Maybe, just maybe, this could work.

Maybe he does think about me as much as I think of him.

Then he was on his feet and flashed Y/n the brightest, most genuine smile he’d even seen from Tooru, his eyes enrapturing for a moment. As Tooru nodded to him, returning to his team, Y/n knew he still liked Oikawa Tooru, and it was okay. 

The rest of the game flew by and Tooru melted into the match. With Y/n’s eyes at his back, he and his team flowed into each set and roared back to life, ruling the court. And every few points, Tooru turned to lock eyes with Y/n, to ensure he was still there, that he wasn’t a dream plaguing his mind. It only helped to serve to rekindle Y/n’s feelings for the brunette. It wasn’t just about volleyball. Maybe it never was.

Oikawa’s serve slammed down for another ace, ending the fifth and final set. Y/n cheered him on as his team won entrance to the Club World Championship. After celebrating with this team, Tooru ran over towards the stands, yelling for Y/n, but it was hard to hear over the screams of the crowd. Y/n took out his phone and pointed to it, screaming “Call me later!”

Y/n knew he had to spend some time working with his team, but knew Tooru got the message as he nodded and waved before trotting off. Y/n could wait one more time. He could wait once more. When Tooru was done with his team he’d come for Y/n and then...then they’ll see. Leaving the stadium, Y/n made his way to his motel, to await Tooru’s call.

What am I doing here? Halfway across the world? To do what? Confess I still love him? Why’d I let Iwaizumi get into my head?

Y/n sat in his motel room, doubt beginning to wrack his mind. He had rejected Oikawa, ultimately, by refusing to come with him again. And now, here he was, in Argentina, unable to speak the language, with no idea what he was doing, following erupting emotions he never dealt with and can no longer control. In fact, they were driving him crazy, he needed to deal with this. All he could do was wait, and he hated it. 

Oikawa joined his team in their locker room. They were already celebrating, jostling each other and him, but Oikawa had thoughts only for Y/n. Even their post game meeting was a blur to him. As it ended, Tooru immediately grabbed his phone. It was flooded with pictures from his game, including a few of him on all fours gazing in disbelief up at Y/n.

“Iwa-chan will love this one,” the message below the picture read.

No! I can’t let him send that to Iwa-chan. He’d tease me for weeks.

Tooru rushed out of the locker room, not even bothering to change, his team looking at his back knowingly. He was lucky it was a home game. Even as he rushed to his car, his phone was already dialing Y/n’s number. 

“Y/n, where are you at?”

“Back at my motel,” Y/n answered

“Where? I’m coming!”

With Y/n’s motel and room number, Oikawa hit the roads of San Juan to find him.

Y/n waited. Tooru was on his way. He needed to deal with this, whatever the result. But now that he was finally shifting through his emotions, the loss of his family, the loneliness, the stress of his dream tearing him apart, he began to falter. Now that he finally recognized his feelings for Tooru, he was afraid, terrified of what was to come. It made him miss the numbness of his work. 

He was scared Tooru didn’t want him like he hoped he did. He was terrified that he did, and it would fall apart. He was afraid of being weak in front of Tooru again. And with those thoughts rushing through his mind, his neurons firing doubt through his brain, Tooru arrived.

“Y/n, I’m here, open up!”

The door opened with a slow whisper, but Tooru burst in, slamming the door open past Y/n, engulfing his (shorter/taller) friend into a crushing bearhug.

“Y/n, I can’t believe you came! What are you doing here? I thought you had work!?”

“Can’t breathe. Tooru, let go.”

“Sorry. But why are you here?”

“You’re all sweaty too! Couldn’t you have at least changed out of your uniform,” Y/n whined as Tooru finally let him down.

“I just had to rush over. I didn’t want you waiting for a second longer. So? I thought you didn’t want to leave Japan? Did you enjoy the game? Thanks for coming!”

“One question at a time Tooru,” Y/n laughed, “like I texted, there’s something we need to talk about. And I wanted to do it in person.” 

“So, what is so important you had to fly across the globe for me?” Tooru teased

Here Y/n began to stutter, and then stop. He couldn’t do this. 

“You aren’t ready yet, are you?”

Y/n shook his head.

“That’s okay. I can wait,” Tooru said, his voice quiet and gentle, stepping back to give Y/n a little space. “How about we go grab some food and head to my place. I have a spare bedroom. Might be more comfortable than this dirty motel,”

“Y/n only nodded, grabbing his stuff.”

“Hungry?”

“Starving. I used just about all of my spending money on the plane and game ticket. I haven’t had much for food.” Y/n admitted.

“That’s some planning,” Tooru laughed, “You used to try to have every detail planned out.

“Oh, shut up and drive.”

The two made their way to Oikawa’s place, eating the takeout Tooru had ordered and picked up on the way. 

“How’d you get off work?”

“I, uh...spent an all nighter, or two in order to catch up. Maybe three? I don’t really remember much of it. Iwa-chan was less than pleased.” Y/n admitted, scowling when he remembered the scolding Iwaizumi had given him.

“I bet he wasn’t. What did he do?”

“Nothing fun. Speaking of Iwaizumi though, you’re a snitch. You told him,” Y/n accused. 

“What? Me? I never!” Oikawa argued, dramatically trying to protest his innocence, his arms flailing around wildly.

“Hands on the wheel! I know you told him!”

“Fine, I did.” Tooru sighed, his tone getting serious, “I was worried.”

“It’s okay. I got payback.” 

“What?”

“Iwaizumi and crew are going to love some of those photos,” Y/n said, smiling

“You didn’t! Please tell me you didn’t Y/n!”

“Oh, I did. Expect some hard core teasing,” Y/n laughed as Oikawa groaned.

“Come on, we’re just about there.” 

To Y/n’s surprise, Oikawa’s apartment was very nice, and immaculate. Y/n imagined it would be a disaster area, much like it was when they were kids. Maybe Oikawa had grown up a bit. More than Y/n had apparently.

Tooru jumped into the shower to clean up as Y/n settled into the spare bedroom, that night they watched a movie in relative silence and turned in. Taking out his phone, Y/n began texting Iwaizumi.

Y/n: I can’t do this Iwa-chan.

Iwaizumi: Y/n, you have to deal with this, and everything else. You can’t keep bottling it up.

Y/n: Iwa-chan, I’m scared

Iwaizumi: Do you still love him?

Y/n: I think so.

Iwaizumi: Then talk to him!

Y/n: But I don’t know. Does he still love me?

Iwaizumi: No buts! I saw that photo. He is, and always has been, completely in love with you.

Y/n: Ok, ok, I’ll tell him.

Iwaizumi: Good. If not I will fly over and beat both of you till you figure this out. 

Y/n slept alone in Oikawa’s spare room. He had it in case family visited, which they did from time to time. 

The following day, Oikawa took Y/n sight seeing through the city of San Juan. Y/n enjoyed the sights and spending time with Tooru. However, with each passing moment his stress and fear continued to build. His gaze shifted away and each time Oikawa could see it, breaking him, what Tooru knew he should have been able to see years ago. When the day came to a close, they found themselves back in Tooru’s apartment, sitting quietly on his couch. Tooru was going to give y/n as much time as he needed.

“Tooru, I…” Y/n stopped and sat back, an exhausted sigh breaking free. Tooru could tell he was holding back tears.

“If you’re not ready yet…”

“No.” Y/n interrupted, “It’s just...I never…” Y/n sniffled, choking back his tears. Tooru’s heart began to throb in pain. He wanted nothing more than to hold Y/n in his arms, to caress him, and make his pain and fears vanish into the night. But he didn’t want to push Y/n if he wasn’t ready. 

“Sorry. I promised myself i wouldn't cry,”

“You’re hurting still, aren’t you. It’s okay,” Tooru said, reaching his hand out to Y/n’s and squeezing it, hoping to reassure him. 

“I just didn’t want to be weak in front of you again. It’s always like this. I hate being so weak,”

“Weak? Y/n, you aren’t weak!” Tooru argued

“Yes, yes I am. All I do is hide from everything,”

“You’re the last person I’d call weak,” Tooru said, turning his h/c friend so he can look into his pained, but pretty e/c eyes. “Y/n, I’ve seen you push through school, with top marks, virtually alone. As your dad practically abandoned you, it was you who helped your mother, even as she was sick. You who, despite everything, came to school with a smile, never late, never missing an assignment, a club meeting or practice of yours, or a single one of my games. You bore everything on your shoulders alone, often to the detriment of your health. And never once did you complain or let it break you, never once did you allow yourself to show your pain to anyone. I know now, deep down, how much pain you were really in, and you hid it so well. I was completely oblivious to it, selfishly obsessed with my own doubts. Y/n, you are my definition of strength.

“Tooru,” Y/n whispered, no longer able to hold back his tears.

“And you know what. It’s okay to be vulnerable sometimes. It’s okay to let it out. That doesn’t make you weak. You’ve been my pillar so often, will you finally let your walls down with me?”

Y/n couldn’t hold it in anymore. He fell into Tooru’s chest sobbing. His unresolved emotions from his mother’s death, the stress from his deteriorating finances, even the anger he never really dealt with resolving Tooru, all of them came flooding to the surface. And, of course, the love he still felt and buried deep beneath his skin. He allowed it all to overwhelm him finally. He could deal with it as long as Tooru was there. 

Tooru held him, so gently, understanding that, despite how strong his love was, he was brittle and wounded, and whatever he needed, Tooru would provide. So he held him close and gentle as a babe and let Y/n cry it out. He rubbed his back when Y/n muttered, “I needed you, and you were never there.” Tooru understood. Part of this was because of him, because he failed to see how much pain Y/n was in during their third year.

“It’s okay, you can be vulnerable with me. I’ll never see you as any less.” Tooru whispered. “You can be as strong as you want, or as weak as you need to be Y/n, I’ll always be here. Just please, stop numbing yourself.”

They laid together until Y/n stopped crying. And then, as Y/n didn’t pull away, or talk, only snuggled closer to Tooru, he held him tighter. Together they remained in each other's arms until the early morning hours. 

Tooru smiled, looking down at Y/n who had fallen asleep in his arms. He was tired. Mentally drained. Tooru would be whatever Y/n needed to be. And he’d wait, however long it took, for Y/n to forgive him and return to this permanently. He stayed awake the entire time, running his hand slowly through Y/’s blonde locks. He continued to caress him until Y/n shook awake. It was nearly two a.m. 

“Tooru…” Y/n yawned, bringing his hands up to rub his eyes, “what time is it?” “Two a.m.”

“What!?” Y/n pulled away from him and Tooru freely let him pull away, already missing his warmth. “I thought I was just dozing off for a few minutes.”

“Oh, you dozed straight to sleep.” Tooru laughed

“Sorry,” Y/n said, turning away, “About this...I,”

Tooru interrupted him before he could go any further, “Again, it’s okay. I’ll be what you need me to be, and nothing more until you’re ready.”

Y/n nodded, sitting up straight, “We need to talk,”

“You ready?”

“Yea. About us.”

Tooru waited for Y/n to continue, but he went quiet. “What about us?”

“I don’t want to wait. For you. For you to finish with volleyball. To have room in your heart.”

“Y/n,” Tooru sighed, fear rising in his chest, afraid that Y/n was going to ask him to give up volleyball, to give him the ultimatum he always feared. He couldn’t choose between them, “I’m not going to stop my career,”

“I know. I don’t want you to. But I can’t wait either. I want more.”

“More?”

“I want to try again. With you. Us. I don’t want to wait. I can’t,” Y/n said, “So, is your offer still on the table?” “...you’re sure?” Tooru whispered, hoping that he wasn’t asleep on his couch, that this wasn’t just another nightmare meant to torture him.

“I am. I need to know. Ever since we met at New Years, everything came to a head.  Realize I was drowning myself in my work, using it as an excuse to ignore everything else. I did that in college too. I’ve ignored the feelings of my mothers death, my dream, and you. But when you showed up…I can’t do it anymore. But I need to know. I want more. Is there any way we can work? Yes or no, I need to know before I move on. That’s why I’m here. 

“You aren’t kidding right?”

“No. So, is your offer still open?”

“Yes!” Tooru yelled, pulling Y/n into another crushing bear hug and pulling Y/n down onto the couch on top of him. “Of course my offer is open. And I want nothing more than for us to work. But I can’t be here all the time either,”

Y/n looked away, fearful for just a moment,

“But, that said, if you give me the chance, I will do everything I can to make you feel loved, to be your pillar, to hold you when you need to be vulnerable. I won’t abandon you like before. I’m stronger now. I’ve learned to balance volleyball and the rest of my life. I can make this work. I promise.”

Y/n smiled. “Then maybe, maybe I’ll be alright,”

“Can I kiss you?” Tooru asked.

“Yes.”

Tooru flipped Y/n over so his back was on the couch, Tooru looming over him. He cupped Y/n’s cheeks, pulling them in together, locking their lips. And Y/n’s fears, his pain, they weren’t gone, it didn’t vanish in a puff of smoke like a fairy tale, but with Tooru he knew he could be weak. He could allow himself to feel again. With Tooru, he knew he just might be okay. 

As their lips parted, Y/n felt Tooru pick him up and carry them to his bedroom.

“You’re tired,” he said, gently placing Y/n on the bed and pulling the covers over them. “Rest now. We’ll get the details tomorrow. Sleep my darling, sleep.” Tooru pulled Y/n in close, head to his chest, and together they fell asleep in each other's arms.

“Y/n, don’t go! Not now! Please,” Tooru whined as Y/n tried to make his way to the airport security. 

“Tooru, I left d/n with Iwaizumi. I imagine he’s sick of the animal. Plus, I still have to wrap up a bunch of things before I can move.”

“But we just got together n/n,” Tooru whined, pulling Y/n in for a kiss, asking for entrance with his tongue, which Y/n denied.

“Not here. At home. When I return. Then you can have all you want,” Y/n teased

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“But what if I don’t want to wait?”

“It’ll be a few weeks still. I’ll come back and then we can have some fun,” Y/n said, teasing, moving to whisper in Tooru’s ear, “Then we can figure out whatever citizenship work we need to do if we decide this works.”

“Fine, fine. Just a couple of weeks. And call me every day!” Tooru whined, reluctantly letting go of Y/n.

“I love you Tooru,” Y/n said, as he moved away to get through security.

“I love you too Y/n.”

One year later:

Oikawa’s serve blasted into the back corner of the opponent’s court. The libero dove for it, making contact, but the ball went spinning out of control, well out of reach of any of the opposing team members. The set came to an end, 25-19. There was only one set left.

Y/n cheered for his boyfriend before looking back down at his notebook. He had promised not to work today, but he snuck in some of his art without Tooru noticing. He was working on his own manga. He had yet to get anything officially off the ground. Most of his work had been denied, but he knew that in the writing business, that is the norm more often than not. It was okay. He would continue to work until he made that dream a reality. As for his animation, he still worked from home in their shared apartment, but had lightened his workload. And in a lucky break, one of his supervisors left and recommended him as her replacement. He now almost made something resembling a liveable wage. 

He was lost in his art. He knew that Tooru would be meeting with his team between the sets and could sneak in a bit of editing and drawing. Despite being in the front, right behind the bench, he was sure he’d be safe from Tooru’s eyes. But he was so absorbed in his art, he didn’t notice when Tooru came striding up to him, hands on his hips glaring at the artwork.

“You were supposed to be taking a day off, Y/n,”

Y/n jumped, and slowly closed his sketchbook, trying to hide it beneath the chair, “What do you mean Tooru, I am” he smiled, pretending to be innocent.

Tooru sighed, “You’re as hopeless as I am. Come on,” he said, grabbing Y/n’s arm and pulling him onto the court behind the bench.

“Tooru, what are you doing, the fifth set is about to start!”

“Don’t worry, both teams agreed to a short disruption, come on,” Tooru said, pulling him onto the court.

“Tooru, why are we on the court?” Y/n asked, blushing, unused to being in the spotlight with crowds staring down at them, many as confused as him.

“Look up.”

Y/n followed Tooru’s finger up to the screens above the court. Usually showing the game on the court, or replays, the screens now read the words, “Will you marry me, Y/n?”

Y/n turned to glare at Tooru, “Really. You are proposing to me during the middle of a volleyball game.” “Yes. I wanted to show you that I love you just as much as I love volleyball,” Tooru said, “Maybe a little bit more even,” Y/n sighed, “You know, this is a low move. I almost have to say yes, with everyone watching.”

“I’m sorry,” Tooru whispered, “Are you really that uncomfortable?”

“You’re lucky you already knew I was going to say yes,” Y/n muttered, knowing they had discussed the possibility in detail over the past month or so. Y/n shook his head and pulled Tooru in a kiss on the middle of the volleyball court. “Does that answer your question?”

Tooru pulled Y/n into another hug, leading him back to the bench as the crowds cheered. Y/n watched from the bench as the fifth set continued forward. He still wasn’t where he wanted to be yet, but Y/n knew that he and Tooru were going to be alright. He would let Tooru help rebuild him. He could make it through anything as long as he had his husband by his side. 

Here’s the ending. Not sure I like it, but it’s what came out. Again, sorry it’s so long. Too all those who distract themselves through work. Hope you enjoyed. 

[starcountesseevee]

Who Needs a Suit?

"That is fantastic news!" You glanced up as you heard Willow’s excited voice, catching a glimpse of him as he spun around on his desk chair with his phone to his ear. It’s not that you were trying to listen in on Willow's conversation but your workspace was right next to the small room that was his office for the duration of this project. And his door was open, like usual. And he wasn't exactly talking quietly to whoever was on the phone, also like usual.

"Of course, of course!" He continued after a brief pause. "Yes, I will inform the team immediately. We are very honored." This caught your attention even more and you eyed him discreetly over your papers, something you had become quite good at since this project started. “You have a good day as well and thank you again!”

You quickly looked back down as Willow ended the phone call, hoping to Mythics that he didn’t see you eavesdropping. A few moments later he emerged from his office, giving you a quick smile as you glanced up again before addressing the room.

"If everyone could pause for a moment, I have an announcement!" The main lab area wasn’t large at all, but it suited the needs of the current project, and it only took a moment for the three other workers to stop their work and turn towards the professor. “I have just received a phone call from the chairman of this year’s research committee and…” Willow paused here for dramatic effect, “our project is being recognized at this year’s award dinner!”

At this the room burst into cheers, everyone congratulating each other on the good news. Once the din settled Willow explained that the invites would be sent shortly and that everyone should be proud. Hugs and handshakes were exchanged all around and the mood in the lab was certainly more exciting than it had been a few minutes prior. You were about to sit back down when Willow caught your attention.

“Oh, (Y/N)?”

You turned towards him but before you had a chance to respond Suzie - your friend, fellow lab colleague, and roommate - threw her arm around your shoulder. “Isn’t this exciting? All our hard work is finally being recognized!”

“Yes, it’s wonderful.” You agreed, looking back at Willow apologetically. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“Oh, just...good work (Y/N).” He said with a smile before turning back to his office.

“Oooh!” Suzie teased quietly as a blush crept across your cheeks.

“Shush!” You shooed your friend away from your desk. “Don’t you have work to be doing?” It was no secret between you two that you fancied Willow and Suzie had, on more than one occasion, gotten frightfully close to disclosing that in front of the professor even after you had made it abundantly clear that if that happened you would lock her in a room with a hungry Arcanine and throw away the key. This time she did relent and went back to her work station as you returned to your desk to continue the morning’s paperwork.

A few days later the formal invitations arrived and it was like rehearing the news for the first time again. You slid the beautifully written card out of the envelope gently, flipping it over to read the details but almost immediately your stomach dropped as you spotted your name with “+ one” written in perfect calligraphy at the top of the page. A plus one was not something you had, which was fine! you reassured yourself, it just meant that everyone else would be bringing one making your lack of one stand out.

“So who are you bringing?” Suzie startled you as she took a seat on the edge of your desk. “My Jane will be so thrilled to finally get to go to one of my work events.”

“You know I don’t have anyone.” You chuckled, trying to play it off.

“You so sure about that?” She smiled coyly at you. “I know a certain profess-”

“Will you hush!” Casting a quick glance towards Willow’s office you were relieved to see he was still absorbed in the papers on his desk. “We’ve talked about that. Besides, he has his own invite. No need for me to ask him to go. Probably has his own plus one already anyway.”

“You won’t know for sure unless you ask.” Suzie gives you a knowing look that you ignore.

“Come on, he’s my boss. I can’t, it isn’t allowed.”

“Well now that this project is wrapping up maybe he won’t be! You could ask for a reassignment, then what’s your excuse?”

You were saved from answering by the loud crash of glass hitting the floor. Suzie hopped off your desk to go help clean up but not before telling you to think about it, like you hadn't already a million times. But maybe she did have a point. With the project being pretty much over maybe you would have a shot at asking him out. You looked over to where he still sat at his desk and frowned. He probably has a someone special already, you thought but Suzie's words 'you won't know till you ask' echoed in your mind. You had two weeks until the award ceremony, maybe you should just ask.

In those two weeks you found every excuse you could not to talk to Willow, your nerves getting the better of you. The closest you had gotten was first thing one morning as he settled into his office for the day but you had chickened out and just said good morning instead. It was probably for the best, you found yourself thinking, not noticing you were staring at him while he was working at his desk until he looked up and made direct eye contact. You were certain you turned as red as a Charmeleon as you quickly looked away, missing the warm smile he gave you.

The day of the event everyone was allowed to go home early to get ready and Suzie insisted on dolling you up in one of her dresses and makeup.

"If that doesn't get Willow's attention, I don't know what will." Suzie smirked, surveying her work as you blushed, fidgeting with the hem of the dress. It was a bit shorter than you were used to but after seeing yourself in the full length mirror you had to admit Suzie had done a great job.

Walking into the venue you felt a bit out of place, even though everyone was laughing and dressed up you were never quite comfortable in formal wear. You had been the first to find your table and take a seat, avoiding the small talk over cocktails, but soon enough the others slowly trickled over to join you. Checking your phone you frowned, it was only a few minutes before the ceremony was about to start and everyone had shown up except the professor. Which is odd seeing as he was in charge of this research project, you would have thought he would be the first to arrive.

Right as the lights were dimming a series of low snickers started echoing through the hall and Suzie startled you by gripping your arm and whispering 'oh my Mythics'. You turned to see Willow snaking through the tables and to your amusement, and seemingly everyone else's horror, he was still in his lab coat and work attire. Taking the last seat at your group's table he didn't seem to notice or care how out of place he looked or that everyone was staring. You couldn't help but grin, half wishing yourself that you had worn something more comfortable than a dress and heels. He caught your eye from across the table and you were thankful the lights had dimmed so he didn't see your blush as he gave you one of his charming smiles but you swear he held your gaze for just a bit longer than needed before turning his attention to the stage.

The recognition ceremony went pretty much how you would have expected, groups getting called up, speeches made. When your group was called out Willow went up for the speech and thanked everyone on the team, prompting you all to stand as the room clapped. As you glanced around at the room you caught Willow's eye again, why did he seem to be watching you directly? It was probably just your imagination though, you thought as you took your seat. Or was it?

After the last group was recognized the lights became brighter and a band appeared, it was time for the after party. You followed Suzie to the bar but soon found yourself alone as Jane whisked her off to the dancefloor. Sipping at your drink as you watched the crowds you didn't realize Willow had come up beside you until he spoke.

"I hope you're having a good time?" He startled you but you recovered quickly.

"Oh I am!" You took another sip of your drink to hopefully calm your nerves. "It's a very lovely place, although I wish I had worn something more comfortable like you did." As soon as you said it you regretted it, worry flashing across your face as you wondered if he would be offended. "I mean, not that there's anything wrong with your attire! It's just that-" you stopped short as he began laughing.

“Ah yes, I must say, formal attire and I don't get along so well. I find it too constricting, besides you never know what you’ll come across in the field! That's actually the reason I was late, a trainer brought in an injured Psyduck and it took a little longer to get the little guy back up to good health than I had anticipated." Willow paused, smiling sheepishly. "It would seem I am rambling. May I get you another drink?"

"You mean another free drink from the open bar?" You teased, the few drinks you already had seemed to have loosened you up a bit.

"Ah, yes, one of those."

"Thank you but I think I'm okay for right now." You set your now empty glass on the counter as Willow rubbed the back of his neck.

"You'll have to forgive me, I don't seem to be very good at this." He laughed nervously as the song changed to something a little more slow paced. "Can I interest you in a dance instead?"

"A dance?" It comes out as more of a question as you were still wondering what he meant he wasn't good at. But Willow was watching you expectantly, holding out his hand as an offer and as if in a trance you took it. This couldn't really be happening, could it? He led you the few steps to the dance floor and your heart pounded in your chest, suddenly finding yourself unsure of how to act as he stepped closer and placed a hand on your waist.

"You look lovely by the way." Willow's words brought you back to reality as you two stepped in a slow circle to the music.

"Thank you." Was it warm in here or was it just you?

"I'm glad we got to-" Before he could continue he was cut off by Suzie's sharp voice from behind you.

"(Y/N!) There you are, oh!" Suzie's eyes widened in shock as she spotted you, or more precisely who you were with. "Oh, I'm so sorry to interrupt! It's just…" She looked like she didn't want to continue, especially as you shot her a look that said this better be worth it. "It's just that Jane tripped and I think she sprained ankle, we're going to have to take her to a hospital just to be sure and I know we're your ride but…"

"What? That's terrible!" You instinctively pulled away from Willow, rushing the few steps over to Suzie as worry washed over you. Quickly realizing what you had done you spun back to Willow with an apology on your lips only to see he had followed.

"Is everything okay, do you need any assistance?"

Suzie glanced between the two of you, clearly judging her next words but concern for her girlfriend won out. "Actually I could use another set of hands getting her to the car, she can barely walk."

"Of course." Willow nodded. "Lead the way."

After the three of you had packed Jane in the car Suzie ran over to the driver's side but hesitated before getting in.

"Are you coming, (Y/N)? I know we're you're ride home but I don't want to make you wait at the hospital with us for Mythics knows how long…"

"Perhaps I can take you home?" Willow offered before you had a chance to respond.

"Perfect!" Suzie grinned, hopping into the car. "Love you girl! I'll text you with an update when we get there!" Winking at you she slammed the car door and took off, leaving you there rather baffled as to what just happened. You turned back to Willow wide eyed and mouth agape, probably looking for all the world like a Magikarp out of water.

"I...what...I'm so sorry...you shouldn't have to...I can call a cab."

"Nonsense!" He grinned. "Besides I offered. Now I'm not sure about you but I don't know that I'm up for more mingling. Unless of course, you want to-"

"No, it's fine. Getting out of these shoes sounds lovely."

Willow led the way to where his Jeep was parked, trailer and all still attached. After helping you into the passenger seat, not the easiest feat in your somewhat tight dress, he took off, following your directions back home. Since your building was on a main road and his vehicle didn't exactly fit in the parking lot around back he wound up finding a side street a few blocks away to park and absolutely insisted on walking you to your door, adamant it was the gentlemanly thing to do and he would be crushed if something happened to you.

"Thank you again, I'm sorry if this cut your night short."

"I'm actually rather pleased it did. I'm glad I got to see you outside of working hours."

"So am I." You blushed, fidgeting with your keys as you two approached the door.

"Listen, (Y/N)..." Willow started, meeting your gaze as he searched for the right words. "I've really enjoyed working with you on this project."

"I have too, I'm sad it's coming to an end."

"I must say I'm not." He must have seen the puzzled look on your face and quickly backpedaled. "I mean, I am but also not...ahh. I told you I'm not good at this." He chuckled nervously before continuing. "What I'm trying to say is that I'd like to see you outside of work again and since dating colleagues is frowned upon-"

Your mind was racing just as fast as your heart was and it only took you a moment to understand what he was trying to say. You cut him off by bringing a hand up to his cheek, a look of surprise crossing his face. "Yes, I would like that. I would like that a lot." He grinned back at you and surprised you in return by leaning in to press his lips to yours. It only took you a moment to return the kiss, sliding your hand around his neck as he circled an arm around your waist to pull you closer. He might not have been so good at flirting but you couldn't say the same about his kissing, it was just as good -if not better- than you had daydreamed. After a few moments you broke apart, touching foreheads as you both caught your breath.

"Well, great, then it's settled. Thank you (Y/N), it was a lovely night and I guess I will see you at work-" He began awkwardly, stepping back from you, but you cut him off.

"Would you like to come upstairs?" You blurted out, not quite as smooth as you had hoped for but he grinned nonetheless. You didn't wait for an answer, instead turning to open the front door. After all, you did want to get out of these shoes.

Just a little (okay not so little) idea I had after Eevee community day when Willow said he didn't have any formal attire. Hope you enjoyed! (Sorry, I just can't seem to write anything short!)

[marvelsmylife]

Sing your heart out

Pairing: Thor x reader

Plot: the reader is Tony’s shy and quiet assistant and Tony’s very protective over her. Thor takes an interest in her but every time he gets close to her she walks away. One night Thor wanders around the compound because he couldn’t sleep and stops in front of a room he’s never been in because he hears someone singing. When he opens the door he’s surprised to see the reader singing her heart out as she plays the piano.

A/n I’m thinking of making a part two to this. Let me know if you want it.

If anyone that knew Thor were to describe him in two words it would be confident and sociable. The Norse god oozed confidence and was able to strike up a conversation with anyone just by flashing his shiny white teeth. Thor took pride in his talent and often gloated to the team that he could become friends with a complete stranger after one conversation.

That all changed when he visited his friends at the avengers compound and noticed a new face in the room; you. He thought you breathtakingly beautiful and was thinking of what to introduce himself. Unfortunately for Thor, once you locked eyes with him you bolted out of the room. Thor had a puzzled look on his face because he knew that you saw him coming towards you and instead of meeting him half away you left.

Unbeknownst to Thor, Steve saw what happened “hey Thor are you ok?” Thor heard Steve’s voice behind him.

“Who was that?” Thor asked as he continued to look at the direction you left.

Steve couldn’t help but laugh at Thor’s question “that’s y/n, she’s Tony’s personal assistant. She’s very quiet and shy so don’t take it personal if she doesn’t talk to you right away. It’s been six months since she started and she only talks to tony and the ladies of the team.”

Your dad was one of Tony’s friends and he managed to get you a job as Tony’s personal assistant. It was a stressful job but you loved it because got to learn a lot from Tony. Tony really liked how you handled anything he threw at you and promised that once you graduated from college you were going to have a better job with the avengers. “Thank you for this information steve. I should get going though, I just stopped by to say hello but I’ll be back in a few days.”

“Well alright then, I’ll see you later Thor” Steve patted Thor’s shoulder before he left to train with Bucky.

True to his word Thor came back to earth a few days later. This time he was determined to get you to talk to him. Sadly every time he was close to talking to you you would run away. Thor was persistent though and told himself not give up. He thought if he kept trying you‘ll eventually talked to him.

His attempts didn’t go unnoticed and tony had to pull Thor aside several times to tell him he needed to back off a bit. Tony knew the god had good intentions but he also wanted to make sure you were ok and you weren’t feeling anxious because of Thor. “I’m just saying that you should back off a bit. Y/n will eventually open up, you just have to give her time.”

While he didn’t like it thor nodded his head and responded “ok, I’ll back off” before he retreated back to his room in the compound and didn’t come out for the rest of the day.

It was around three in the morning when Thor woke up and wasn’t able to go back to sleep. Since he skipped dinner Thor’s stomach started growling so he got up and left his room. Thor was on his way to the kitchen to get a quick snack when he heard music playing. Wondering where the music was coming from Thor pressed his ear against each door until he heard the music playing against his ear. Thor quietly listened as he heard an angelic voice on the other side.

When the waves are flooding the shore

And I can't find my way home any more

That's when I, II look at you Thor cautiously opened the door and entered the dimly lit room. His jaw dropped when he noticed you were the one singing and playing the piano. Thor tried to be as quiet as possible so you wouldn’t hear him. He knew that if you found out he was there you would stop and run out of the room. Fortunately for him you didn’t hear him so he stood there and listened as you kept playing.

You appear just like a dream to me

Just like kaleidoscope colors that cover me

All I need

Every breath that I breathe

Don't you know you're beautiful

Yeah, yeah, yeah Thor was mesmerized as he watched you play the piano. The shy girl he had been pining after for the past month was replaced with a confident woman getting lost in the music she was playing. He couldn’t believe how beautiful your voice was as you sung the song in the dimly lit room.

When the waves are flooding the shore

And I can't find my way home any more

That's when I, I

I look at you

You appear just like a dream to me Without thinking Thor started to clap once you finished playing and caused your eyes to widen. Looking towards the sound of the clap you noticed Thor walking towards you with the biggest smile on his face “lady y/n that was wonderful! You have a very lovely voice and I cannot believe you know how to play the piano.” Thor gushed and caused your cheeks to burn up.

“Thank you” you replied quietly. The confidence that you had while you were playing was wiped away and was replaced with your timid self again. “Did I wake you up? I’m sorry if I did but whenever I can’t sleep I come here to play the piano and sing a little.”

“Do not worry lady y/n, you did not wake me” Thor reassured you “how long has this piano been in here? I could have sworn this used to be one of Tony’s spare rooms.”

“Six months” you replied “Tony converted it into a music room for me because he knows music calms me down when I become overwhelmed with something.”

Tony saw you as the daughter and always made sure you were ok. Because you had such a stressful job and he knew you suffered anxiety attacks when you felt overwhelmed Tony created a music room just for you. He knew you loved playing the piano when you were little and often played every time you needed to clear your head so he thought he would creat a safe space for you to escape. “You two are really close aren’t you? You and tony.” Thor asked.

“Yeah” you replied “Tony’s like my second dad”.

All Thor could do was nod his head as he now understood why Tony told him several times to leave you alone. He was protective over you because you guys saw each other as family and him watching Thor approach you several time and making you uncomfortable was getting to him. “I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable this past month. I’m so used to engaging in conversation with anyone that I didn’t take into account that some people don’t want to talk” Thor apologized.

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you, I just feel like I’m going to say the wrong thing and make a fool of myself” you admitted. “When I first saw you I thought you were the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever seen and I knew I would make a fool of myself if tried to talk to you so I left before you could approach me.”

Thor couldn’t help but grin when you said he was gorgeous “you think I’m gorgeous?” Thor asked and caused your face to burn up again from embarrassment “it is alright lady y/n, I think you’re gorgeous as well.”

“You do?” you bit your bottom lip out of nervousness. Not knowing what to say next you looked over at your phone to check the time and realized it was going to be four in a few minutes. “Umm we should probably go to bed. We have to be up in a few hours for work but” you paused for a few seconds while you thought of the right words to say “but if you want meet me here at night I can teach you how to play the piano. That’s only if you want to and don’t know how to play the-”

Thor laughed softly as you rambled “Do not worrying, I do not know how to play the piano and I would love it if you taught me how to play”.

“Great ! I’ll see you later then” you gave him a small smile before you guys went back to your own bedrooms to sleep. While you saw this as a small step towards you getting out of your shell, Thor saw it as a small step for him to get closer to you and eventually becoming a couple.