#I guess just to voice that I’m constantly hungry for attention like some sort of attention vampire

[deityofhearts]

I just want attention but I want for people to actually want to give me attention without me having to all but beg for it (and even then I end up begging for attention, that’s what this post is)

[beyondspaceandstars]

Coffee & Meetings

Relationship: Dark!Bucky Barnes x Innocent!Reader Warnings: stalking, drugging TW, manipulation, Summary: Prequel to Pastries & Memories - Bucky sees you day after day at a bakery and decides you’re just perfect for him. All from Bucky’s POV. A/N: someone suggested this on ao3 and i really liked that idea so I hope i did it well! I am thinking about expanding this to a bit of a mini-series... :)

Masterlist

Six months earlier…

He first saw you on a Monday. A bright, sunny, lovely Monday morning. He hadn’t even been looking for you — hell, he hadn’t really been looking for anyone.

Bucky was planted at a little table in the corner of a coffee shop, sipping on a dark roast, watching people come and go on the sidewalk. It had become his new morning routine, an interesting yet annoying suggestion from his therapist. She had become concerned he was too into his previous routine. She wanted him to step out of it for a bit, expand horizons, maybe even find a hobby. The craziest thing he had done yet was this — drinking overpriced coffee at a local shop.

He had to admit, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Sometimes he looked forward to this new start to his day. Everyone at the shop was always nice to him, amazingly. They didn’t mind him dilly-dallying, nursing his coffee, as he people watched. They even had a bakery attached which was part of the attraction to the place for Bucky. He had smelled their pastries one morning and was hooked.

As Bucky sat watching the people, he was contemplating getting an almond croissant to go when something caught his attention. From the corner of his eye, like a little flash, he had seen someone that made him perk up.

It was her. It was you. You were standing in front of the bakery entrance debating on going in. You looked between the coffee and the bakery sign. You checked your phone then you walked in. Bucky watched as you entered the bakery, your face bright with the kindest smile he had ever seen as you greeted the cashier. He didn’t have to hear your voice to know it was contagiously joyous.

You were like a little tease standing around all those baked goods, flicking your hair over your shoulder as you pointed at which donut you wanted. Bucky suddenly felt hungry for something else. Especially when you bent over to point at the strawberry glaze on the bottom row.

But then you were gone as fast as you had come. He watched you from the window as you got back on the path to wherever you were headed, he guessed your job. Your hair blew in the wind. Your skirt bounced as you walked proudly, your hand grasping the box of donuts tightly.

Oh, yeah, Bucky thought, this new routine was definitely what he needed.

***

You quickly became the most exciting part of Bucky’s day.

With his cup of coffee and hawk-like gaze, he’d sit at the little coffee shop table, watching the world outside the window. You’d come strolling by fairly early, looking so classy and professional. He figured you worked in an office which seemed very unnecessary for a girl like you. You didn’t need to work, he decided. You were too beautiful, clearly too bright, for that.

But you never seemed to recognize this yourself since you were constantly strutting past in your blouse and skirt, stopping in every day to collect some new pastry for your coworkers.

The way you talked to the bakery staff was what really won Bucky over. You were so gentle and patient when the kid behind the counter fumbled with the boxes or accidentally grabbed the wrong item. You’d still shoot them your lovely smile and make light conversation as they rang you up.

You were too generous, especially noted by the strawberry cake you had purchased one more for your work. Whoever was on the other end of your kindness better appreciate it, Bucky thought. He also didn’t miss your obvious love for strawberries.

Bucky watched you for a while, almost for two whole months, in that coffee shop seat drinking in every inch of you. The baristas didn’t seem to mind his lingering. He always made sure to order two cups as some sort of compensation for letting him sit there and watch his girl. Yes — his girl, that was what he had marked you as in his mind. You hadn’t noticed him yet but Bucky wasn’t sweating it. All in due time, he silently promised you.

It took Bucky a few days to gather what was needed. You still weren’t noticing him but he was way past being bothered by that. He had been screwed by life enough to know that sometimes you just have to take what you want. Sitting around waiting and hoping was for men who had patience. He was over it. Little worked out for him so now he had to make it work.

The morning of the commencement of the plan, Bucky stood in his kitchen double-checking the items needed. Content with it, he carefully drew up the correct amount of light sedation into the syringe. It wasn’t anything crazy and apparently affected the mind first, body second. You’d be on autopilot for a bit, walking more like someone who was just having a rough day. But that wouldn’t be an issue because Bucky would be there. He’d be able to escort you to his apartment, simply appearing as the concerned, protective boyfriend among the sidewalk pedestrians. He got a bit giddy just thinking about it.

Moments after you were properly sedated, he’d need to administer you another drug in a timely manner. This one would be focused on memory loss. He’d discovered it on some corner of the black market while originally on the look for types of sedation. Apparently, this drug was part of some sort of failed spy mission in Europe. The seller swore it boasted good results, citing studies conducted. Bucky looked into it and agreed. After some clumsy navigation in the world of online shopping, it was his within a few days. The concoction seemed like it would do that job.

The goal was to pretty much scramble your brain just a little bit. Nothing crazy like making you totally forget key components of yourself but still hit a point where you didn’t have enough to fight Bucky’s word on, well, anything. This drug wore off, though, so he would have to come up with ways to get it in your system over the course of your relationship. It was still worth it to him. He wasn’t stripping you off your personality, just some little details here and there. You’d still be his shining girl, just only now focused on him.

The final items laid out were various feet of rope. Bucky was being overly cautious with this. He didn’t know if anything actually was going to work. What if you woke up and realized you weren’t in your apartment? That you were being watched over by a stranger? You were bound to panic but he understood that. If need be, he could restrain you while he figured out the right way to go about it all. It would never be to hurt you, of course — in fact, he felt it was more for your safety than anything.

After another run of the mental checklist, Bucky gathered the syringe and headed out to the coffee shop. The idea was fairly simple. After you came in for a box of pastries, he’d head out behind you, try to chat you up a bit. He had some old moves he could flex. Once you got comfortable enough, he’d make the move and then lights out. By the end of that day, you’d be making yourself comfortable in his apartment.

Bucky practically fawned over the idea as he walked. He had taken some steps earlier in the week to add some things for you in the apartment like ladies’ toiletries and new outfits. He had even finally purchased a real couch. All for you, so you could have a home. A real home. With him.

Bucky was still lost in his daydream as he sat in the coffee shop, looking between the clock and the window. He waited and waited and waited. The syringe growing heavier and heavier in his pocket as the seconds went by.

The clock struck a new hour. Something Bucky never planned for was unfolding: it didn’t look like you were coming today. He almost about lost it there. Almost went into the streets stomping away in anger. Everything was perfect, how could you just be the only missing piece? Did something happen? Were you okay? Gosh, he should’ve got to you sooner—

Your hair suddenly came into view. You were walking furiously, just glancing at the bakery this time before deciding not to go in. You looked anxious which certainly wasn’t like you. He wanted to crush whatever was making you feel such a way. But Bucky had to snap his thoughts back. You weren’t coming into the bakery. He wouldn’t be able to follow you out, to casually build-up to this moment. His heart was pounding. He panicked.

In a moment of stupid impulsivity, Bucky quickly left the coffee shop and began racing to catch up to you. He took long strides, quite amazed by how fast you walked in those heels, but it didn’t take him very long to now be right on your tail. Few more steps and he was able to pop up right in front of you. You jumped at his sudden presence. Bucky smiled, finding you so amusing.

"Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but I think you dropped something." He lied through his teeth so gloriously, way too easily. It was just the right comment to get you to stop in your tracks but didn’t completely scare you off.

Your brows furrowed, adorably confused. You looked down, searching for whatever it could be. "I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t think I did."

Sir. The word stuck with him a bit. Maybe after some coaxing, you could always be calling him that. Bucky didn’t have much time to think about this, though, as you began to step around him. You had taken his moment of silence as a way to evade him. Smart, but frustrating. A mix of annoyance and anger shot through him. He grabbed your arm and pulled you into him quickly. You let out a yelp in surprise. He ignored it and before you could ask any questions, the syringe was plunged into your neck. To outsiders, it looked like a couple in some weird embrace, but to Bucky, it was just the beginning of something beautiful.

He got you back to his apartment fairly easily after that. You were eventually out cold and the next step of the process could begin. He was pretty much banking on the memory loss solution. Not a very religious man, Bucky still said a silent prayer as he administered it.

He took a step back from his bed, watching you look so at home knocked out on it. It was a wonderful sight, one he was saving in the back of his mind, even though he’d now see it every single day. Feeling quite content with how smoothly that all had gone, he had nothing to do now but wait for you to wake up.

Bucky took this free time as a chance to begin cutting off connections you had. Thankfully, your bag held your laptop along with other necessities like your phone and wallet. He was pretty thankful he wouldn’t have to try to get into your work to grab your devices. That would rely too heavily on whether or not you overshared. No one would believe he was the concerned boyfriend if just last week you ranted about how single you were.

Sliding onto a stool at his kitchen counter, Bucky set up your laptop. The first thing he noticed was your lack of password. You were too trustful, too good, and that was only example A. Bucky suddenly felt so relieved he had you in the safety of his apartment. There were lunatics out there.

Bucky navigated your laptop fairly easily. While he was pretty new to the technology scene, he could at least find the basics and you weren’t exactly running some government-level device. With a few simple taps and clicks, he was writing out messages to your boss and family.

He put in your letter of resignation, something short and vague, to your boss at the public relations firm you were an assistant at. Lower level work, not even anywhere near the big dogs. No wonder you constantly brought in treats for everyone. You were hoping your kindness would get you ahead. Bucky shook his head at your naivety.

A simple Google search showed him you were not the only assistant to the head of the firm. You probably wouldn’t be missed. The pastries, maybe, but you? An assistant? Someone would take your place within the week. Bucky was turning out much better for you than he had realized. He mentally patted himself on the back as he moved onto looking into your family.

Scrolling through your email contacts, it appeared you only had a sister for immediate family. No mentions of parents and… sure enough, another search brought up an obituary for your mother. No mention of a father. Even better, he thought. You needed that strong, guiding force.

A few scrolls through your current email thread with your sister and Bucky found out she was studying abroad. Could this all get any better? Nothing was in the immediate area of a threat. He responded back to the last email your sister had sent. Copying your language the best he could, he dropped some hints that you wanted a vacation. In just a few more exchanges he could drop the news that you were off in paradise. Correspondence could easily fizzle out and your sister would be too caught up in her European dream to notice an absence.

If this ever called for any more attention, Bucky figured he could easily invite her over. It’d take some training but you’d eventually remember your sister — or, what Bucky would plant in your head about her — then you’d happily host a dinner. Introduce your two favorite people to one another. He bought himself enough time to spend with you.

Of course, Bucky realized he got very lucky with you. He had done some minimal research beforehand but everything had been behind sign-in walls. He didn’t know if he was really ready to break into social media and instead decided to risk it. If all had gone to shit, like you having a real big, caring family or a prestigious job, there wasn’t anything a little talking couldn’t fix.

But Bucky had also kind of already knew you as he watched you day in and day out. He had felt that dire need to be comforted, to be loved, to be cared for, to be protected behind those cheery smiles and generous small talk. You always tried too hard as if you needed everyone in the world to love you, to praise you. That wasn’t it at all. You just needed him. And he needed you.

Lost in his dreamy thoughts, Bucky nearly jumped out of his skin (leave it to you to be the first person to actually scared him) when your soft voice called from the bedroom doorway.

"Excuse me," You said, nervously fidgeting as you slowly walked from the hall into the kitchen. "W-What’s going on?"

Bucky shut your laptop quickly and hopped down from the stool. He gave you a warm smile which you seemed to try to return. So obedient and caring already and you didn’t even know why — yet.

"Hey, doll," he said, keeping his voice steady and gentle. "You okay? You laid down for a nap earlier. I was worried you were getting sick." He placed a hand on your forehead pretending to check your temperature. Thankfully, you allowed it. After a moment, he pulled his hand away with a curious hum.

You frowned, obviously confused, much more than you were earlier. You looked totally clueless at the situation. It was the best reaction Bucky could’ve ever hoped for.

You glanced around the living space. "I- Yeah, I think I’m alright… I’m sorry, I can’t seem to remember much. Who are you?"

Bucky chuckled, "I’m your boyfriend. Bucky. And this is our apartment. You remember, don’t you, honey? Maybe you’re just still a bit sleepy."

He watched as you blinked a few times, probably wrestling with whether to admit you really didn’t remember anything or to go with the lie. If you were a good girl, like he predicted, you’d settle with the lie.

"Oh." You bit your lip and eventually nodded. Jackpot. "Of course. Again, I’m sorry. I must’ve been really tired." You glanced over at the clock. It read just before noon. "I’m a bit hungry. Would you like anything, B-Bucky?"

He smiled. "A sandwich would be great, doll."

You nodded once in acknowledgment then began hunting for everything you needed in the kitchen. You looked a bit confused at first but slowly Bucky saw you get the hang of it. He took his place at the kitchen counter again, sliding the laptop out of your sight.

He sat there waiting and observing as his new girl began making him lunch. It was a sight he had dreamed of, but Bucky also knew this was too perfect too soon. You were bound to stumble within time but that was okay. He would have to fine-tune the details later but he was already complying some ideas on how to shape you into who you were destined to be.

Yes, he had a long way to go, but it would all be worth it if he got to come home to you standing in his kitchen whipping up a special treat like the sweetest housewife to ever exist. Because that certainly would be the next step down the line — making you his darling wife.

[why-not-a-tickle-blog]

I was wondering if you could do something where Virgil gets stuck somewhere and the twins find him and team up to take advantage of the situation? Thank you in advance, your work is amazing!

Warning: Intense tickles, maybe you could say bondage? It’s just the rope trap and Virgil’s own shirt

Of all the things to happen in the imagination. And of all the people for them to happen to, it happened to be Anxiety, caught in a trap.

It was a simple rope trap, snagging his ankles and jerking him upside down, hidden well enough that even with all his wariness he hadn’t seen it.

“I don’t even hardly go in the imagination and then the one time I do I get stuck,” Virgil grumbled.

He’d tried to get out, twisting and thrashing and grabbing, but it didn’t do any good. He was lucky he wasn’t human, or the blood rush to his head would’ve become painful. As it was, he was just exhausted from thrashing and very very bored of being stuck.

And then he heard footsteps.

His heart beat faster, worried that the Hunter had arrived. He wasn’t sure what the imaginary hunter might do, but he was still more than nervous.

“Ohhh~ look what we have here~” a very familiar voice said.

“Remus,” Virgil sighed, relieved. “I’m glad you’re here, can you let me down?”

Remus walked around in front of him. “But I caught you~”

Remus made a summoning motion, and Roman rose up. “Look what I caught, Ro~ weren’t you just saying earlier you wished you could find someone a little stuck for a few pokes~?”

A few pokes… Virgil’s face went red and he covered his stomach.

Roman grinned at his reaction. “I did say that, didn’t I? Maybe there’s a reason this little Stormcloud let himself get caught, hmm?”

“I-I didn’t! Not for— not on purpose!” And he hadn’t, truly, had anything of the kind in mind when he’d wandered into the imagination. Now though, presented with two grinning Lers, butterflies were growing in his belly.

Remus sat down in front of Virgil’s face, tugging surprisingly gently at his arms. Virgil had already spent his energy on thrashing earlier, and didn’t have much fight left in him to resist. His arms were pulled down, so they dangled straight, which made his shirt flip up over his face.

Roman moved his shirt so he could look him in the eyes, more serious now. “You can say no, now or anytime.”

Virgil blushed at having to admit he wanted to be tickled now, even just by not saying no. “Thanks,” he mumbled, biting his lip.

Roman grinned, evil and hungry looking, dropping Virgil’s shirt to cover his face again.

Virgil squirmed, the skin on his exposed torso tingling in anticipation. Remus held both his wrists easily in one hand, leaving three hands and a whole imagination’s worth of tools ready to tickle Virgil at any moment.

Fingers lightly touched his ribs, and Virgil jolted and squeaked.

There was a dark chuckle from one of the twins.

The fingers scribbled lightly, and Virgil burst into giggles.

“I want to keep him forever~” Remus said. “He’s mine, I caught him, and I get to tickle him for ever and ever, hours at a time~”

Virgil squealed as the scribbling fingers reached one armpit and scribbled even faster.

“I love the idea~ so long as you share your prize sometimes~” Roman teased.

Virgil felt two hands grip his hips, and squirmed hard, his giggles ratcheting up to laughter just from the anticipation of tickles on his hips and belly. The two hands held him still as a long, loud raspberry was blown directly onto his bellybutton.

Virgil squealed and laughed helplessly, already his squirming not working to help him, as tired as his muscles were and weak from laughter.

Remus seemed to understand how incapable he was of protecting his weak points, and let go of his wrists, attacking both armpits at once.

Virgil cackled and laughed, squealing again when Roman blew another raspberry on his belly.

Roman squeezed and scribbled at his hips, blowing many small raspberries all over his belly. Remus’s hands crawled up to taze his ribs, and Virgil was lost in laughter, tears of mirth leaking from the corners of his eyes.

Then they stopped, both at the same time, letting Virgil catch his breath.

“I have a game for you~” Roman said. “Guess correctly where we tickle next, and you get a little break. Guess incorrectly, and we tickle you till you squeal~”

Virgil wouldn’t know. He couldn’t see past his shirt. He was going to get so tickled, he knew it. Excitement bubbled up in him, nearly making him giggle even without any tickles.

“My turn first then!” Remus said, sounding as excited as Virgil was. “Where am I gonna tickle, giggly darkling~?”

Virgil’s mind went to the sensation of Remus’s fingers in his armpits, and on his ribs, and his sides, and each spot tingled, nearly tickling already. He didn’t know. Didn’t have a way of knowing.

“Come on, you can guess~” Remus teased. “It’ll only tickle so much when you get it wrong~”

Virgil could barely keep the giggles at bay. “A-armpits.”

“Wrong!” Remus said gleefully, tazing and scribbling at Virgil’s ribs.

Virgil laughed and squirmed, jolts of tickly sensation running through him. And then Remus started nuzzling, his mustache rubbing against the sensitive skin on one side, while both his hands were free to taze into the other. Virgil squealed, trying to push Remus away, but his arms were far too weak.

A few more seconds that felt more like hours later, Remus stopped, rubbing soothingly as Virgil hiccuped and giggled, trying to get his breath back.

“Where will I tickle you~?” Roman asked, before Virgil had gotten his breath back.

That was right, the correct guesses were for breaks. He was glad they still paused for a little, rather than Roman asking while he was still laughing his head off.

“Behehelly,” Virgil guessed.

“Nope~!” Roman said.

Virgil wasn’t sure then where he was going to go. Belly was a wide guess, even sides and hips were sort of counted in it.

And then a hand squeezed at his thigh. Virgil yelped embarrassingly loudly.

“Surprised you with a tickly spot~” Roman cooed. “Get ready to squeal~”

Roman scribbled lightly along the backs of Virgil’s thighs, and Virgil couldn’t help laughing. But then he squeezed again, just above his knee on his left leg, and finding that awful horrible amazingly ticklish tendon on the right.

Virgil squealed and shrieked in laughter, his body jerking with more energy than he thought he had left. Roman kept going a bit longer than Remus had after the first squeal, and when he finally stopped Virgil went nearly limp, gasping for air.

“You ready to be done?” Remus whispered in a more serious tone.

“Can—“ Virgil gasped. “After a break… can I have more belly tickles.. before done? A— a lot?”

He was glad for the shirt hiding his face, as he blushed dark.

Remus hugged him suddenly. “We’d love to.”

“Awwww~” Roman cooed. “Such a tickle-hungry lee~”

Virgil blushed even darker.

“Since the lee wants a lot, I want to use tools!” Remus said excitedly.

“Oh yes~” Roman agreed. “Brushy tools particularly~”

Virgil squirmed, barely biting back the whine.

“What if one of us tickles the belly, and the other gets to focus all their attention on the button~?” Remus asked.

Roman’s chuckle was pure evil. “Yes.”

Virgil did whine that time. “Don’t tease!”

“Don’t tease~?” Roman asked. “Us, not teasing our sweet captured lee? Impossible~”

“It makes all the tickles tickle more, doesn’t it~?” Remus said knowingly. “So when we scribble at your belly it’ll be all tingly and ready to burst with laughs and giggles~! It’s so perfectly stretched out for us too~ with no way of getting away or curling up~ just waiting for us to play with it just how we like~”

Virgil whined and squirmed.

“I think if he’s able to whine he’s able to be tickled, don’t you?” Roman asked.

“Oh yes!” Remus agreed, and suddenly Virgil could hear the sound of buzzing.

He squirmed and whined, twisting back and forth.

Hands grabbed his hips again. “I guess I’ll have to use some magic to tickle the button, if I have to hold you still~” Remus teased.

Something liquid touched his belly, and Virgil gasped. A hand spread the oil slowly over his belly and poked into his bellybutton, making him squeak.

“You ready for a lot of tickles~?” Roman teased. “Actually wait~” he bent down and tapped Virgil’s chest and his throat gently. “Don’t want you running out of air, and now you can’t!”

They were going to tickle him till he went insane!

“The little button gets the first tickle~” Remus said, brushing circles around Virgil’s bellybutton with an electric toothbrush as Virgil shrieked with laughter.

Roman scribbled around the rest of his belly and sides, often blowing raspberries.

Remus quickly went from circling to dipping the brush into Virgil’s bellybutton.

Virgil couldn’t stand it! It tickled so bad! It was like his brain floated away from his body, leaving only sensation and laughter. Squeals and shrieks were pulled from him by the two tormenting his belly. He never wanted it to stop. Nothing mattered in the slightest except the fireworks of tickles constantly being set off. He didn’t even have to worry about catching his breath.

And then Roman decided it was his turn to start using electric toothbrushes, far more than two hands could hold, and Remus was also squeezing sporadically at Virgil’s hips.

All his laughter became a silent scream, the sensations starting to blend together, his whole belly a tickle spot.

He managed to bump one arm against Roman’s leg.

The two stopped immediately. Remus rubbed his belly gently, and Roman helped to very gently and carefully get him down.

The forest faded away, replaced by a cool, dim room and a very soft bed.

Virgil felt all glowy, still riding the high from all the tickles. One of them offered him some water, and the other laid beside him, rubbing gently up and down his arms.

“Did you have fun?” Roman asked quietly, his tone hesitant and almost worried.

“So much fun,” Virgil said, a grin still on his face as he hugged Roman.

Remus hopped into the bed behind him, hugging also and running his fingers through Virgil’s hair.

“If I get this kind of treatment every time, I’ll start looking for traps in the imagination…” Virgil said sleepily.

“I’ll make some just for you,” Remus said immediately. “Anytime you want.”

Virgil leaned his head into Remus’s hand, weakly tugging Roman a bit closer. He could barely keep his eyes open.

Roman’s knuckles brushed against his cheek. “You can sleep, Emo.”

Virgil drifted off, still floaty and happy. “You two are the best…”

[seaweedbrain404]

Wolfstar Au! : Parties and Morning Regrets

read it on ao3

pt2

Parties weren’t exactly Remus’ scene. It’s not that he hated the loud noise, smelly sweaty drunk people who constantly bumped into him or the inevitable hangover he would be most certainly having the next day. Except, he did hate all of those things, so why was he there?

The answer was simple: Lily Evans. Aka his best friend and flatmate. She had wanted to go, Remus couldn’t remember why. Maybe it was for a birthday? or a promotion? He couldn’t recall. Although that might’ve been the effects of the copious amounts of alcohol he had managed to consume in the past few hours. Remus wasn’t a light weight by any means so it really was copious amounts.

Drunk and a little annoyed because Lily had ditched him at some point and now he couldn’t find her, Remus made his way to the corner of the room where he could hopefully be left alone. He’d also have to keep an eye out for her, in case she needed help or in case she wanted to leave. He doubted any of those things, vaguely remembering that Lily wanted to go to the party to get laid. Which was fair.

Remus was propped up against the wall, drink in hand when it all went downhill. He only just began to entertaining the idea of either finding Lily and telling her he was going him or getting laid himself. He preferred the latter but didn’t have much of a say in it when someone came up next to him.

“Remus Lupin?”

Remus’ brain short circuited when he heard the voice. This was proof the universe hated him. As if the accident that happened shortly after he and Lily had moved to New York had been any indication of the universe having it out for him.

“What?” He managed to sound vaguely disinterested as his gaz met the other person’s.

Sirius Black looked the same as he did when they were 17. Same stupid leather jacket and everything. It made Remus want to groan because it was so stupid, he thought he’d left all of this back in England. Clearly he was about to be proven wrong.

Sirius shrunk back at the tone. He wasn’t used to Remus being so cold and bitter. Remus didn’t care though, Sirius had hurt him and he had some nerve coming up to him again.

“Just thought I’d say hi”

“Well, hi”

“Mmm...” Sirius paused for a moment, “how have you been?”

“Grand”

“Oh.... did you get into that school you wanted?” Sirius tried again and Remus almost felt bad for him.

If Remus wasn’t intoxicated, he would’ve told Sirius to go away. Instead he answered the question. “No, got my second choice though”

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be” Remus didn’t want the pity Sirius was so clearly trying to offer. He had gotten over himself, it was years ago that he got rejected from his first school of choice and his second one was still really good. Then a thought occurred to him, “why are you in New York?”

“Oh!” Sirius seemed surprised by the question, Remus couldn’t blame him. He hadn’t been exactly pleasant up until this point. “Business opportunity for my dad’s firm, he wanted me to check it out and James already lived close enough to here”

Of course, still doing your family’s bidding when we both know you hate it, Remus had to stop himself from saying. Instead, he settled on a nod and took a sip of the drink in his hand.

“What about you?” He asked timidly.

Remus wasn’t used to Sirius being timid. Sirius had always been loud, demanding attention and boisterous. Maybe it was the party or maybe it was seeing Remus after so long that knocked the wind out of him just like it did to Remus. Hence why he was acting like a bit of a dick.

“Lily and I both wanted out”

That was all there was to it. Lily and Remus had been best friends and grew up together in a small town just off the coast of England. It horribly small minded and suffocating. It only got worse when Remus came out. Lily wanted to go to New York to get away from her sister and start a small bakery. For Remus, she was the ideal ticket out of there. He had been hesitant at first, up until he tried to speak to his father for more than ten minutes at a time. Then he was certain he had to leave. His mum wouldn’t have wanted him to stay if he was unhappy and if Lyall couldn’t get his shit together without him, well that wasn’t his problem anymore.

“I don’t blame you” came Sirius’ answer. “Compared to that shithole, New York is a breath of fresh air”

Remus chuckled at that, mood lightening. Was it the alcohol or was it him actually missing Sirius? He’d blame it on the alcohol.

“How is Lily?”

“She’s good, snogging some bloke right now I think” Remus shrugged.

“Good for her” Sirius nodded and Remus swore he could see the other glance down at his lips.

“What are you thinking about?” Remus knew he was asking a very dangerous question but his drunken mind pushed for it.

Clearly, Sirius was drunk enough to look at Remus and smile and as he said, “kissing you”

“Then do it”

Remus said this without thinking of the consequences. A very un-Remus thing to do.

Sirius obeyed though, stepping closer and closing the distance between them. Remus forgot what it was like to kiss Sirius. He could taste the alcohol, and the same cigarettes as when they were teenagers. The new taste was coffee, a welcome addition to what Remus already knew and remembered.

He suddenly wondered if anything else was the same. Throwing caution to the wind, Remus gently bit down on Sirius’ lip and in turn, Sirius parted his lips. This allowed Remus to slip his tongue in, his brain short circuiting again.

He pulled away breathless and Sirius grabbed his hand. “Let’s get out of here”

Remus let himself be dragged away from the corner and outside. He didn’t bother asking where until Sirius started hailing a cab. That’s when the alarms bells sounded.

“No! let’s- no not the cab... I’ll- I’ll get sick” This was of course a lie. Remus knew this and if Sirius remembered how good Remus’ drinking health was, then he knew it was a lie too. He didn’t say anything though. Maybe it was the panic in his fear-stricken eyes that made Sirius back down.

Remus felt stupid, not wanting to take the cab but it made perfect sense in his head. One late night coming home from work, he had taken a cab and got in a terrible accident. An accident that left violent scars all over his right side. An accident that made him quit his job and not want to get into a car ever again.

Despite all this, Sirius, bloody Sirius who was always so understanding even while drunk, squeezed Remus’ hand and started walking.

Remus decided he didn’t feel bad for not taking the cab. It wasn’t a long walk to where Sirius was currently staying. It was a nice, fancy and very expensive hotel. He instantly felt out of place.

Sirius didn’t seem to notice though. He also didn’t notice the receptionist giving him a funny look. A look which Remus knew too well and made him feel more than a little insecure. If it wasn’t for the alcohol coursing through his system, he would’ve gone home.

Fortunately, Remus didn’t get the chance to dwell of any of this simply because the second they were in the lift, Sirius was pressing him against the wall. All the kissing made Remus feel a bit dizzy. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been in relationships or had one night stands after Sirius. It was more the fact that it was Sirius.

Somehow (Remus can’t recall the details) they ended up in Sirius’ hotel room. Remus would later regret the events that took place that night for a while.

The next morning, Remus woke up naked and hungry. Not a great combination. He felt a hand draped over his waist, pulling him closer.

“Morning” Came Sirius’ sleepy voice.

Shit

Remus pushed Sirius away, establishing a small distance between them. He was about to go for his phone when it started ringing, this caused Sirius to groan and cover his ears.

Remus pick up, it was Lily. “Hi? what’s up?”

“Remus John Lupin”

“That’s my name?”

“Tonight was my turn”

Right. This meant that she didn’t have the keys to their apartment and that Remus did.

“Sorry”

“Just come home, quickly? You’ll never guess who i slept with last night”

“I’m intrigued”

“Then hurry up! I’m going to be catch pneumonia”

“Alright how does i’m-sorry-for-leaving-you-out-in-the-cold-coffee sound?”

“I suppose I could forgive you” Remus could practically hear the smile in her voice.

“Give me a few minutes, I’m on my way”

“Be safe, love you”

“Love you too”

When Remus hung up and looked over at Sirius, his brain short circuited for the third time since they’d met last night. Sirius Black was beautiful in the morning, he was breathtaking every time of day but he was especially beautiful in the mornings. With his shoulder length black hair, sharp cheekbones, pale skin and grey eyes, he always looked melancholy. Even when he was smiling. Remus supposed there was a sort of tragic look about Sirius that drew a lot of people in. It didn’t help that Remus’ favourite colour used to be grey.

“Who was it?” Sirius’ voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Lily. I should- I really have to go” When Remus said this, Sirius’ face fell.

“Can I drive you home?”

Remus climbed out of bed and stopped, he was in the middle of pulling his jeans back on. “No, it’s not too far, I’ll walk”

Sirius started getting out of bed too. “At least let me walk you then” He walked over to the suitcase and pulled out his own clothes, getting dressed as well.

“Fine but I have to stop for coffee” Remus replied, not being able to come up with a good enough excuse to ditch him. He finished buttoning up his shirt and pulled the sweater he wore last night over his head. It smelled like bad beer and cheap vodka. He was in desperate need of a shower the second he got home.

They walked in silence, from the room to the lift and outside in complete silence until Sirius spoke up again. “How are you?” he asked.

Remus looked at him, a frown quickly taking over his features. He remembered the sincere tone and genuine look in Sirius’ eyes from the time his mum passed away, sometime in fifth year. “You don’t get to ask that”

“Oh... I’m sorry”

“I know you are”

“You’re different” Sirius said, sounding a little uncertain.

“People are allowed to change Sirius” Remus’ tone was cold. He was in no mood for this, he just wanted to get the coffee and get home as quickly as possible.

Sirius soldiered on, as if Remus hadn’t said a thing. “You’re taller.... your hair is longer and curlier, you have plasters all over your fingers and scars, the scars are new”

Remus’ shoulders tensed at that. Who was Sirius to be saying all these things? And more importantly, why was he saying all this. It’s not like Remus didn’t know that he changed since they were 17. It had been years.

“Am I allowed to ask about the scars?”

“I got into an accident”

“How bad was it?”

“No, you’re not allowed to ask that”

“Right” It was clear Sirius was grasping at straws at this point, anything to keep the conversation going. “The plasters?”

“I work in a bakery”

“As if that explains it” Sirius huffed, a lot more Sirius-like than whatever he was like before. That was the Sirius he remembered. “What about me?

“What about you?”

“Have I changed?”

Remus thought for a moment. He wanted to say no, everything about Sirius was the same; he looked the same and his clothes were also the same. Another thing that didn’t change was him clearly being under his parents’ thumb. Yet, there was something about Sirius that was very un-Sirius and Remus couldn’t place what.

“No” He replied, ducking into a coffee shop to avoid the conversation from progressing further.

After buying three coffees, the two men were off again. They walked in silence for about five seconds before Sirius spoke up again.

“Why are you being like this?”

“I don’t know what you mean” Lie. Remus knew exactly what he meant but he refused to acknowledge it. Besides, the walk was starting to do a number on his hip and he had to slow down.

Sirius frowned at him. “Being all.....” he gestured vaguely with his hands, he had never been good with words, despite going to a private boarding school (he and Lily were scholarship students). Remus thought it was ironic, you’d think someone that rich would be at least a little more eloquent.

“You’re being distant”

“No offense but I’m not usually all cuddly and sweet with one night stands, I’m sorry”

Unfortunately it seemed that Sirius had taken offense to being called just a one night stand because he took a sip of his coffee and stuff a hand in his jacket.

“Asshole” Sirius mumbled.

“Sure, I’m the asshole”

Hurt flashed across Sirius’ face. “That’s not fair”

“I didnt say it was”

Sirius scowled even further and Remus just smiled. “I’m trying to be nice, I don’t get why you’re still being so mean”

Remus looked down, suddenly feeling really bad. “Sorry”

“Can we just talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about” Remus sighed. “You haven’t changed, your parents still dictate your life and by the looks of it, you’ve stopped rebelling”

Now it’s Sirius’ turn to look down. Remus had his a sore spot, that much was clear.

Neither said anything for the rest of the walk, until Remus started limping enough for Sirius to notice.

“Are you okay?” Concern filled his pretty grey eyes.

“I told you- the accident... it’s not too far now, I’ll be okay”

Sirius looked unconvinced but didn’t say anything else. He was probably too scared that Remus would snap at him again.

The silence resumed til they saw Lily, who ran up and pulled Remus into a death grip hug when she saw him, causing him to nearly drop the two coffees he was holding.

“What took so long?” She let go of him, studying his face, “don’t tell me you walked all the way here, you dolt”

“That would be lying though” Remus quipped with a smile.

Lily shook her head. “Idiot” she muttered, taking the coffee cups from Remus as he fished out the keys to let them inside.

Lily’s gaze travelled between Sirius and Remus, silently giving Remus the ‘oh god you slept with him didn’t you’ look. “I’ll go on ahead”

Once Lily disappeared upstairs, Sirius opened his mouth to say something but Remus stopped him with a hand in the air.

“Do you want to come upstairs?” He asked, not sure if he was going to regret this later or not.

Sirius nodded, “Yeah, yeah... if that’s okay with you”

Remus held the door open. He could give this a chance, maybe it wouldn’t end as bad as it did when they were 17. He had changed and maybe, somewhere deeper so had Sirius. For once, Remus let himself hope.

“You wanna know why I stopped rebelling?”

Remus hummed in response.

“I didn’t have anything left to fight for, now I might” with small smile he ducked into the apartment building.

Remus followed in after a moment. Thinking about how this could be finally something good. Maybe the universe doesn’t hate him as much as he thought it did. Maybe the universe was trying to shove him in the right direction again.

[shoichee]

Since requests are open- can I please get a Murasakibara hc/fic (whatever works best for you babes!) with a shy and introverted S/O? Maybe a cute date that they do together? Thank you so much bubs ily 🥺🥺

Consider me your new friend in this lowkey dead fandom 🥺💖💖💖

hi!! let’s be friends together in this ghost town together HFUWHEIGJS thank you so much for requesting <33

Sweet Sample

Murasakibara x Reader

Word Count: 2019

»»—————　☼　—————««

How did you get yourself here?

You remembered being dragged around by Himuro in a blur of houses until you both, before you knew it, stood before his house that reeked “high class.” Before you can muster up any form of complaint that you (sort of) thought up of when you were dragged, Himuro ushers you in hurriedly. Even when he was in a rush, his movements were elegant and fluid.

“... a-ah, Himuro-san?” was all you muttered, but you only got a closed click of his bulky front door as a reply. You turned around to face a nonchalant ravenette shedding off his outer coats before he hung them on the racks next to you.

Too nonchalant, in fact.

You weren’t that close to him enough to warrant a casual visit to his home, nor did you have any reason to come here in the first place. Yet, Himuro looked as if you two had plans for the evening but that you somehow forgot that you had an arrangement with him in the first place. Plus, and probably the most crucial part that made this entire ordeal awkward to you, was that you’re dating Murasakibara. Anyone with common sense can see countless implications when someone is alone in someone else’s house, let alone dragged into one.

“U-um…”

“(Y/n)-san,” he smoothly interjects, nodding his chin to the racks to indicate for you to take off your outer layers as well. “If I may ask you something.” You only nodded in meekness as you tapped your left feet behind your right leg, a nervous tick you’ve always had since middle school.

“Have you ever gone on a date with Atsushi before?”

“E-eh?” You shot your head up to meet his accessing eyes, which, you noted, were filled with utter amusement dancing behind his pupils. “Well… we were planning to go out tomorrow on Saturday.”

“Is that so?” Himuro said, tilting his head, his bangs following the motion. He suddenly shot his head up as he made a sound, indicating that he remembered something.

“Ah, how rude of me—we’re still here at the doorway. Feel free to make yourself at home here. There’s some snacks on the table if you’re hungry, (y/n)-san.” Himuro gently guides you to the dining room, but all you could do was stiffly plop onto one of the seats at the edge of the polished table.

“Why are we… um, here? Where’s Atsushi?” you finally mustered up the courage to speak out the most important questions prevalent in your mind.

“Don’t worry about Atsushi,” he reassured. “I simply told him that there were several local food festivals near Akita and that you were there too.”

“B-but I’m not though—”

“That’s the point,” he sighed. “I needed to talk to you, and I know you don’t talk about your relationship out in the open, so that’s why we’re here.”

“That’s…” … so many leaps of logic.

Leave it to Himuro Tatsuya for his outrageousness sometimes.

“Er, what is it you need from me, Himuro-san?”

“Just wanted to check up on you guys since it’s been almost a month since you guys became an item.” Himuro pushes the bowl of snacks from the center of the table to within hand’s reach. You note the tacky colors of the packaging of umaibo sticks, Murasakibara’s favorite, and you let out a tiny smile. Typical.

Himuro doesn’t fail to catch your change in facial expression. “I guess from that face you’re making, it looks like everything’s going well. I guess I didn’t have to worry so much after all.”

“Wh-what?” you said, breaking out of your short daydreaming. “How s-so?”

“You know how Atsushi is,” he sighed. “He’s not honest with himself and he’s not the best at talking, and personality types like yours would normally annoy him, let alone actually getting him to listen to them seriously.”

“Well, lately he’s been considerate of me,” you bashfully said, averting your eyes. “We can just, um, understand each other without talking much… but thank you for looking out for us both.”

“You said you were going on a date tomorrow? Where to, if I may ask?”

“D-d-date…” you turned cherry-red at the thought of hanging out with your boyfriend outside of a school setting for the first time. “Well, um, nothing big… we’re just um…” You paused.

“(Y/n)-san?”

“Um… going to all the local groceries and supermarkets for f-free samples.” Himuro, who had been patiently waiting for your answer with his head on his propped arm on the table, doubles over in surprise.

“Seriously? You’re not going to a café or walk around in the shopping district? Not even a park?”

“W-waahh!” You firmly shook your head “no” repeatedly as you brought up your hands to wave side to side to emphasize your point in front of Himuro. “N-no way!—there’s too many people there that are always staring because of Atsushi’s height, so…”

“Ah.”

“Besides,” you started. “He finds it annoying to deal with people too, and he wants free food, so I feel like… he’d be happy if we go for these samples tomorrow… there’s less people overall, too.”

“Let me guess,” Himuro slightly smirks. “You’re going tomorrow with super casual clothes.”

“Y-yeah, um, is there something wrong?—um, Himuro, you have a… very scary look… socanipleaseleavenow?—WAH!”

———

How did you get yourself here?

You were all dolled up and dressed up today as per Himuro’s insistence.

Yesterday evening, he dragged you again out of his house to do literal last-minute shopping for your date. You kept telling him that it wasn’t such a big deal, but you couldn’t fight back against the mischievous glint he had in his eyes. You knew that he wanted Murasakibara to have a reaction when he sees you, and deep down, you were giddy at the thought of seeing Murasakibara in your new clothes too.

But still, that cunning bastard.

As soon as the two of you returned back to his house with the bag of the purchases, Himuro swiftly pushed you to the bushes in an attempt to hide you when he saw Murasakibara stomping his way.

“Muro-chin! Chibi-chin wasn’t there at all!” he huffed.

“Ah, but I thought I saw her,” Himuro feigned, tapping a finger to his chin. “I think she probably went home, after all.”

“Tch.”

After that ordeal, Himuro finally insisted to walk you safely home and MILDLY threatened you to wear the hand-picked clothes for tomorrow. You didn’t have the voice to object at all this entire evening, but you knew Himuro only wanted the best for you.

You sighed as you tried to smooth out nonexistent wrinkles for the seventh time out of nervousness. You’re just going to some supermarkets, right? There’s nothing to be scared of. Not at all. You shop for groceries every week, so it’s not like you’re going on this date completely blind.

You fiddled with the strands of your hair, twisting and pulling it down to busy your hands. You probably ruined the hairdo you painstakingly spent an hour on, and your nervous sweating probably completely drenched you like a soaked rat. That’s what you imagined anyways.

“Chibi-chin?” At the sound of his lazy voice, you whirled around to see a cozily-dressed giant of your boyfriend. But you immediately stopped in your tracks out of self-consciousness when you saw how Murasakibara’s eyes widened completely at the sight of you. Both of you looked like deer caught in headlights. “... what are you wearing?”

“U-ummm…” you stammered. “Uh, um, we’re… on a date, r-right?!”

“Hnn,” was all he said, but from the way he pouted his lips and flickered his gaze from your figure to the side constantly, you knew he liked what he saw. His hands were jammed into his pockets, and he just stood there dumbly like a street pole while his eyes kept stealing glances at you.

This was so embarrassing, you were going to die from all the flush in your face from the curious glances from bypassers and the shy stares from Murasakibara. All you could do was stare at the floor, hoping you could disappear and teleport back to your house to change.

“Ah!...” You felt a heavy weight draped over your back as a shadow loomed over. You looked up to see Murasakibara, frowning with equally red cheeks. You turned to look at what was on your shoulders. “Is that… your jacket, Atsushi? D-did you not lik—”

He doesn’t give you time to finish because he’s tugging you along with his ginormous hand, while you were tailing behind, careful not to trip on your new shoes and not to let his jacket fall off of your body.

“... I don’t like it when other people see you like this.” You can only imagine the most adorable pout he had on his face based on the sulkiness you heard from his voice when you stare at his back.

“D-do you want me to dress like this again?”

“Hnn.”

You knew that he meant, “yes, but only for me.”

———

“Atsushi,” you tugged on his sleeve, pointing to a sample stand. “They’re giving away red-bean mochi…”

“Okay~” he drawled, always making sure that your hand was linked with his as he tugs you closer to the food.

Honestly, while your attire with Murasakibara’s absurdly huge jacket attracted way more attention than if you just took off his jacket in the first place, you felt like you were protected in a haven. You don’t know if it’s because of the oversized coziness or his scent, but all you know is that you don’t feel as overwhelmed as you normally do when you’re in large crowds. Still, Murasakibara does most of the talking for you.

“Would you like to try a sample?”

“Yup… one for Chibi-chin too.”

“Wow~ you two are a couple? You guys look so sweet together!”

“A-ah, um,” you timidly spoke out. “Th-thank yo—wha?!” Murasakibara was already tugging you away, with his other hand holding both of your samples.

“You don’t have to talk if it’s bothersome.” He looks over his back to you. “Let’s eat here.”

“Thank you, Atsushi,” you said, gently smiling at his roundabout kindness. “I’ll take this mochi.”

A giant kid and a kid half his size eating powdered flour desserts in the corner of a supermarket doesn’t sound remotely romantic on paper, but for you, it was more than enough to give you fuzzy butterflies.

“Oh, Chibi-chin,” Murasakibara called out to you. He leans down to the level of your face.

“A-ah, wh-what is it—?”

He gives you a gentle kiss before he licks off the white flour besides your open lips, all while maintaining eye contact. It only takes a few seconds for the entire moment to register in your head.

“Wh-wh-wha-what are you doing?!”

You push at his cheeks and softly beat at his chest in embarrassment in a poor attempt to gain physical distance, and Murasakibara happily smirks at your feeble efforts.

“I kissed you, obviously.”

“Sh-shhhhhh! Not so loud!” You try to muffle his mouth, but you only feel his lips curve into a wider smile at your flustering. He easily swats your hands away before he gently grips them together with his own.

“Chibi-chin, that’s so cute,” he said, with full intentions to get you embarrassed even more as he stares intently at your face.

“C-can you not?” was all you dumbly said as you tried to look anywhere but his face. As cute as you were, Murasakibara wanted your eyes on him at all times. So what does he do? He pecks your lips again.

“H-hey!! What did I just… say… um…” You hastily looked around your surroundings again.

“No one’s looking though.”

“That… that doesn’t mean you should do it out of nowhere!”

“But you’re the best free sample I’ve ever tasted.”

“Wh-wh-wh-what?!”

Murasakibara might’ve hated people like you in the past, but now, he finds utter joy in getting you absolutely flustered because of him, and him only. He can’t help that you’re too sweet for him to resist, after all.

[swiftlymoniquesblog]

Only You: Dean x Reader (Requested)

Requested by: @littlemissmoxley: I was hoping for a Dean x Reader please? I’m fairly new to the fandom so I’ve only seen 3 seasons so far lol. I was hoping for a story where the reader feels like she is constantly compared to Cassie in Dean’s eyes even though she is a hunter too and she confides in Sam but Dean overhears the conversation and tries to convince the reader that he appreciates her for who she is and is sorry if he made her feel differently

A/N: Welcome to the family! We hope you enjoy your stay! I like comparing this fandom to the song Hotel California because like they say “you can check out any time you like but you can never leave!” lol don’t worry, that’s meant as a joke. It’s a very fun and very loving family so I hope you enjoy it!

Had to jump all the way back in season 1 for this and Dean gave me MAJOR feels throughout but totally worth it!

Also I don’t think this is my best work but I did my best

Warnings: Angst, swearing, angry!Dean (that’s a sexy warning) fluff, slight mention of sex but very light

Word Count: 2,752

Taglist requests are open! 

Supernatural Masterlist| Masterlist of all Masterlists

You had been living and working with the Winchester Brothers for the past year after they called on you for a little help with a case. You knew their Dad sort of well at one point in time after he saved you from a rather sticky situation with a vengeful spirit. At the time, you were working late and had gotten off of work when the attack happened but it ended up working out where John came to your rescue and made sure you were okay until he moved on to his next case. However, before he left you, he called his sons and had them come and stay with you longer because you were injured. John Winchester was not a man who would stay behind for an extended period of time to help some civilian but what he failed to learn but Sam and Dean stuck around to learn, was you weren’t a civilian; you were a hunter too. When they got to your apartment that night, you threw them for a loop.

“So what did our Dad say attacked you?” Sam, the youngest brother you found out, asked you.

“He said some kind of mental subject high on meth or something? Some total bullshit if you ask me. I know I was attacked by a vengeful spirit,” you say nonchalantly. 

Both brothers just gave you a bizarre look, like they were freaking out over how you knew what was going on. No one needed to lie to you because you were aware of what was happening and that was unusual to the brothers. 

“Wait, our  Dad told us you were a civilian?” The eldest brother, Dean, asked.

“Yes that’s what he told you but see boys, your Dad didn’t stick around me long enough to know the truth; I’m a hunter too. I guess it was pure luck your Dad was close by when I was attacked because I knew I was getting myself into some shady shit when I had to dig out some corpse to stop a track of killings in Tucson but I wasn’t expecting more than one spirit to be involved here,” you explain, smirking as the tension was drawn away from the brothers. 

A big part of every hunter's existence was to keep the job a secret from civilians; no one usually believes you anyways. So always having to come with an excuse for what happened when civilians almost died is exhausting. Lucky for the Winchesters, they didn’t have to worry about lying with you. After staying with you for a few days to make sure nothing was still trying to come after you, it was Dean who decided to have you live with them. He insisted on it due to how severe your injuries were but it didn’t bother you; you liked his company. Not that he really took care of you, he was just concerned. It was Sam who really took the time to care for you and that was how you and he had gotten so close. In fact, you confided in Sam about everything that was going on in your life so when you started doubting your relationship a year later, you went to him.

“Hey Sam, I need your advice on something,” you asked, going to see him in the War Room. He was currently sitting at the Map table behind his laptop, looking intently at the screen in front of him.

“Hey (y/n) sure, what’s going on?” He asked, eyes leaving the screen and landing on you.

“Well it’s about my relationship,” you say and Sam grows more concerned. 

“Dean’s not hurting you, is he?” He asks, jumping to one of the most extreme scenarios. You had started going out with Dean a few months after you 

“No, no, of course not. He’s been nothing but a gentleman but something seems a bit off.” 

You and Dean started dating a little while after you agreed to go with them on their hunts. It was actually really great and you liked him a lot, but lately, you began to question everything about your relationship.

“Off? Like how?” Sam asks, motioning for you to sit down across from him. 

“Well, he uh, did something odd,” you say, a bit hesitant on sharing what happened. 

“What did he do?” Sam pressed you.

“Well, uh, we were making out the other day and he said another girl's name,” you say, cheeks turning bright red but you knew you could trust Sam. He’s not the kind of guy to make fun of you or tease you that often; he was sweeter than that. Unlike his brother of course, who thrives off teasing you.

“Who’s name did he say?” Sam questioned.

“Cassie? I-I don’t know who she is or where that came from but it was weird. And when I confronted him about it, he blew me off and wouldn’t say anything about it. Not to mention, he won’t even come near me,” You explain everything that happened. 

“Oh….shit,” Sam said, knowing exactly what was going on. 

“Sam? Who-who’s Cassie?” You ask. 

“Cassie was Dean’s, first love. He was crazy about her and we ran into her again about a year ago. She called him because her Dad was killed by some racist truck that was driven by another vengeful spirit,” Sam explained his brother’s odd behavior. 

“Oh, well that explains a lot. He-he probably has been comparing me to her this whole time! And I think I’m failing,” you say, an expression of realization on your face. 

“No (Y/N) that’s not…” Sam tried to call after you but you left the room and went out to the motel lobby.

“How can I help you?” The young girl behind the front desk asked you. 

“Yes, I need to get a room. I’m not sure for how long yet but I can pay for one and I need one as far away from room 113 as possible,” You say, sliding the fake credit card over to the lady.

She quickly took down all your information and put it all through her computer, verifying you wanted a room farther away from Sam and Dean’s room, before she finalized a few things, sliding your card back to you and a room key, bidding you a ‘pleasant stay.’ You walked back to get your belongings from your shared room with the boys and before walking in the door, you scoped the surrounding area to ensure you wouldn’t run into either brother and when you were sure the coast was clear, you frantically start packing your bag, making sure to get in and get out as fast as possible. Zipping the bag, you scribble down a note to Dean, and set it on the table by the front door, and head out. Making your way to the opposite side of the property, you find your room, unlock it and let yourself into your new home for as long as you and the boys would be in town investigating. 

Dean’s POV

“Hey (Y/N/N), Sam, where are you guys?” I called out for the others living in the room with me to see if someone could help me with these groceries and take out what I bought. 

“Hey Dean, let me grab some of that for you,” Sam says, grabbing some of the bags out of my hands and placing them on one of the counters. 

“Where’s (y/n)? She said she was getting hungry earlier and I got her favorite food,” I say, excited to surprise my girl.

“Um, she’s not here,” Sam says, a hint of hesitation in his voice.

“Well, where is she?” I ask.

“She left,” Sam kept his response short.

“Sam, I need a much better explanation than just that.”

“There’s a note for you on the table by the door,” he says, unloading the bags of groceries. 

I walk back to the door and there is, in fact, a note with my name on the top.

Dean,

I think it’s best if we part ways for a while since...well you know what happened; the incident. I talked to Sam about it and he told me who she was. I get it, Cassie was your first love and after just seeing her recently and hooking up with her again, I’d probably say her name too. 

I’m not mad, in fact, I understand. I just think it’s best we aren’t in a romantic relationship since you’re not over her. Makes me wonder if you’ve been comparing me to her this entire time and I believe I fell short. I did a search on her and she is stunning in every way and I simply am not. 

I’ll stay to help you and Sam with the remainder of this case but afterward, I’ll head back home. I know this may seem surprising to you but ultimately, it'll be ideal for all involved. 

-(Y/N) 

“Son of a bitch!” I said, crumpling up the note and throwing it at the floor. 

“What’s wrong, what did the note say?” Sam asked.

“She left me, Sam. We were making out the other day and I said Cassie instead of (y/n) and now she thinks I’m still hooked up on her and that I’ve been comparing her to Cassie this entire time!” I yell, throw punching the wall. 

“Well, she couldn’t have gone too far, she hates being by herself,” he says, trying to add some comfort to the situation. 

“I can’t believe she thinks I still give two shits about Cassie! I haven’t even thought about her in the last year except for that one time,” I say, feeling shitty about this whole thing. I should’ve been more careful and paid better attention to (y/n). She probably thinks I don’t even care about her at all since we’ve been so busy lately with this case. 

“I gotta find her Sammy,” I say, feeling helpless about everything but I at least needed to get started finding her and explaining to her where I’m coming from.

“Let’s go up to the front desk and see if she left anywhere,”  Sam suggests,  making me remember why I’m lucky to have him. I wouldn’t have thought of that on my own.

We head up to the desk and are met with a girl who looks like she’s just fallen in love. Guessing she finds us attractive by the way her eyes travel up and down both of us. 

“How can I help you, boys?” She asks, smirking at Sam. 

“We’re looking for a girl, about yay high, (y/e/c), (y/h/c) she goes by the name (y/n/n)? Have you seen her anywhere?” 

“Oh, she checked into another room,” the girl says and I sigh in relief; she’s still here.

“Great, what room is she in?” I ask.

“I can’t tell you that, Sir,” she says to me, rolling her eyes and popping a bubble with her gum. 

“I’m Agent Ackles, this is my partner Agent Padalecki, (y/n/n) is our partner and we need to know her whereabouts as soon as possible. We believe she might be in danger,” I say, flashing my FBI badge, Sam following my lead, and the girl quickly jumps to the computer and pulls up your information.

“She checked into room 2 earlier this afternoon,” the girl says.

“Where is room 2?” Sam asks, knowing all the rooms we’ve seen have been in the hundreds. 

“On the opposite side of the property; those are the single-digit rooms.” 

“Thank you,” I say, folding the badge and putting it away.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Sam asks.

“Nah, I got this. I’m hoping to work this out with her and if we do well,” I say and smirk, Sam immediately knowing what I was implying.

“Right, well thanks for that. I’m going to head back to the room then and you just call if something doesn’t go as planned,” he says and heads back to our room. 

I follow the directions the receptionist girl gave me and after a surprisingly long walk, I find room 2. That girl wasn’t kidding; it really was on the opposite side of the property. I go over to the door and raise my fist to knock, pausing just a moment to gather my thoughts before finally making contact with the door. 

“Just a minute!” She calls from the other side of the door and then she goes quiet for a while. “What do you want, Dean?”

“Look (y/n) I got your note, can we talk about this please?” I say, almost pleading for her to open up. 

“I don’t have anything more to say to you,” she says.

“But I have plenty! Come one (y/n/n) please, let me explain.” She opens the door and looks pissed off. 

“And why would I do that?” 

“Because you love me,” I test, knowing we haven’t said that to each other yet.

“And how do you know that?” I can tell she was affected by the comment but she kept fighting me.

“Because I know you and if you didn’t care anymore, you would’ve left.” 

“Fine,” she says and steps aside, allowing me into the room.

“Look, (y/n) I’m sorry okay? I don’t know what happened that day. Maybe I was thinking about her subconsciously but I promise you, I am crazy about you and only you.” 

“But you told her about our work; she obviously means a lot to you,” 

“Meant a lot to me, yes, but YOU are the one who means more to me than, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but more than Baby.” 

Her head snapped over to look at me, she wasn’t expecting that one and neither was I.

“I mean more to you than your prized Baby?” She asks, cocking an eyebrow to see if there were any signs of deceit but I was sincere.

“Yes, sweetheart. You are my girl and I’m crazy about you. You’re the first person I want to see when I wake up in the morning and the last one I want to see before I fall asleep at night. I want to be there when you’re not feeling well so I can cuddle you and tickle you until you feel better again. I want to cook you meals and I want to be able to binge-watch Scooby-Doo with you. I want to play with your hair and see you fall asleep with your head in my lap because you’re so incredibly beautiful and I cannot believe you are mine. I am so sorry you thought you weren’t good enough for me or that I’ve been comparing you to Cassie this whole time because I haven’t been. I’ve been pinching myself every single day I see you and get to kiss you because I’m still thinking I’m going to wake up from a dream and it’ll all be gone. I hope that isn’t true and that this is all real. After all, I can’t imagine my life without you in it because I love you. That’s right, I love you (y/n) and I don’t care who knows it! I am so in love with you that I was going to go insane if I hadn’t told you,” I fully express all my feelings, in a non-Dean way. 

She keeps quiet and just when I think the worst happens, she makes her way over to me and grabs my head, bringing my lips to hers in a kiss. Instinctively, I grab her hips, holding her tight, and push her against the nearest wall. She’s completely trapped as my lips make the kiss more passionate by traveling down to her neck and over the tops of her breasts that were kind of spilling over by her pajama tank top. Just before anything gets too heated, I pull away to make sure we were on the same page, that she was okay with whatever plans I had conjured in my head and when she didn’t seem to hesitate and she lifted her shirt over her head and threw it on the floor beside her, I knew she was all in. I’ll admit, I forgot what I was doing for a minute as I pictured her lying under me as I do some rather fun things to her, but she snaps me out of it and I go out to put a ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door, slamming it and locking it behind me. Yep, she was my girl again. 

Taglist: @calaofnoldor @thinkinghardhardlythinking @tloveswriting @akshi8278 @baby1967impala @deansmyapplepie @marvelfansworld @spnjediavenger

[arvandus]

Congrats on 500 followers! Could I perhaps request 8 from the fluff prompts with Present Mic, but platonic? Like he's the reader's unofficial metaphorical dad and something bad happens to the reader and the prompt line is what he says at the end? Sorry if that's confusing.

Thank you so much!  Ngl, I struggled with this one a bit. I’ve never written for Present Mic before, so this was new territory for me.  Also never written platonic before, which was also a good exercise. Really though, it’s because this was INSTANTLY the idea that had popped into my head with your request, and it WOULD NOT BUDGE.  Normally not a problem, but for some reason, I had the hardest time figuring out how to fit the dialogue prompt into it.  BUT I DID IT!  It only took me.... *checks* 1732 words to get there. 🤣🤣🤣

This makes it my biggest one yet for the 500 Followers Event.  I hope you enjoy it!  It’s a bit angst heavy in the beginning because of the nature of your request, but it does end on a happy note!

8. “You are my family.”

It happened. It actually happened.  You had hoped it wouldn’t, but here you were, sitting on a park bench with nothing but a backpack and a duffle bag.  Your mind replayed the sound of your family’s words in your head.  Harsh, cruel, heartless words.

‘Get out.’

Sure, there was more to it than that, but you didn’t want to dwell on it, to let it fester within you and take root.  There was already more than enough damage tied to their memory, and the last thing you wanted to do was carry it with you. After all, you had enough baggage as it was.

Of course, this was easier said than done. The ache sat heavy in your gut, your heart a black void. Questions flew circles in your mind like crows, questions you’d likely never know the answer to.  They mocked you, pecking at your resolution, tearing at your self-esteem. Tears soaked down your cheeks and you let them fall freely as you wrapped your arms around yourself, struggling to find a strength you weren’t sure you had.

You began to shiver as the cold night air made its way into your jacket.  You couldn’t stay here.  You knew you couldn’t; it wasn’t safe.  You looked at your phone for the tenth time.  A single contact stared back at you.

Hizashi Yamada.

Hizashi was your mentor, your guide… and quite frankly, the closest thing you had to a good father figure.  He’d helped you through your years at UA, both academically and emotionally, giving you the support you’d desperately needed, the support that was painfully absent with your own family.  He treated you kindly and respectfully, taking you under his wing so that you could flourish. He praised you in your successes and guided you through your failures, all while keeping a light heart that constantly reminded you not to take life too seriously.  It set up the foundation for a strong bond between the two of you that continued after graduation.  It was a bond that you still had, ever evolving with occasional check-ins and coffee shop meet-ups, where he often gave you professional and even sometimes fatherly advice.

Fatherly was what you needed right now, more than anything.  He was the only person you really trusted, the only one who knew about your situation. He’d even said for you to call him if you were ever in trouble.

This counted, right?

Still, you hesitated.  You didn’t want to inconvenience him.  And you’d never ever reached out to him in this capacity before.

But you didn’t really have any other choice.

You pressed the call button.

It rang once. Twice.

“Y/N?” His voice answered.  No doubt, your name came up on his phone.

You swallowed.

“Um… Hi, Mr. Hizashi…” you mumbled.

“Hey, kid! You okay?  What’s got you callin’ so late?” he replied.  You could hear the concern underlying his jovial tone, and you clutched your phone tighter to your ear, grateful to know that at least someone out there cared about you.

“I… I need some help.” You said.  “They… they kicked me out.”

There was a silent pause. When he finally spoke, his voice was somber.  “I’ll come get you.  Tell me where you are.”

You thanked him and gave him your location.  He kept you on the phone with him the entire time as he drove over, making you speak to him and describe your surroundings.  Any people who walked by you, specific landmarks, anything he might need to know if trouble arrived before he did.  When you finally saw his headlights pull up into the parking lot of the park, relief flooded you and you nearly ran to his car. He was a sight for sore eyes, his blonde hair pulled back into a casual man bun, his clothing simple.  He stepped out of the driver’s side door to put your things in his trunk before opening his passenger door for you.

“Thank you.” You said as he settled back into the driver’s seat next to you.

“I’m glad you called me.” He replied.

As he drove, he spoke to you.  “You don’t have anywhere to go, do you?” he asked.

Your vision blurred and you shook your head.

“Listen.  I’m going to give you a couple of options for tonight.  I can take you back to my place and you can crash on my couch.  Or, if you’re not comfortable with that, I can reach out Nemuri.  I’m sure she’d understand.”

You were grateful he didn’t offer to put you up in a motel by yourself or take you to a homeless shelter.  The tension in your spine eased slightly.

“Um.. your place, please, if that’s okay…” you mumbled.

You could see relief smooth the creases on his brow and he smiled at you.  “Of course it is.”

You arrived at Hizashi’s home and he helped you carry your things in.  He retreated to his hallway to grab a spare blanket and a pillow and set it up for you on the couch.  You looked at the space curiously, intrigued at his level of preparedness.

Hizashi noticed the questioning look on your face, and chuckled.  “Shouta crashes here sometimes.  Gotta be prepared.”

You gave a small chuckle at the mental picture.

“How about some tea?” Hizashi asked as he disappeared into the kitchen. You could hear the clinking of ceramics and the running of water. “Have ya had anything to eat?” He called out. “Are ya hungry?”

You shook your head, your stomach still twisted in knots. “No, I’m okay…”

“Well, if that changes, feel free to help yourself whenever you want.” He replied.

By this point, the dam of your emotions was beginning to crack, and you sat on the couch with your head in your hands.  You could feel fresh tears filling your eyes, sticking to your lashes.  You blinked at them, letting them fall into your palms.

A few minutes later, Hizashi returned with a cup of hot tea that he handed to you. You took it gratefully and sipped at its contents, letting the warmth coat your throat and fill your stomach.  It helped to slightly ease the knot of anxiety that you felt twisted up inside you.

“I’m so sorry to ask for your help like this.” You muttered. “I’m sure this isn’t what you had in mind when you gave me your number.  I just didn’t have anyone else to turn to.”

“It’s okay.” He replied.  “Like I said, I’m glad you called me.”

“I promise I won’t stay long…” you said.  “I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“You’ll stay as long as you need to.  I’m not going to let you out back on the street by yourself.” He said sternly.  “I’ll start reaching out to people tomorrow.  I’m sure there are some UA graduates that might be cool with getting a new roommate.”

“Thank you.” You said again.  

Another long silence filled the space as you sipped at your drink.  He quietly sat near you, letting you acclimate to his space and this strange, new situation.  Once the mug was empty, you set it down.

“So… do you want to tell me what happened?” he asked.

You began to recount all that had transpired hours before.  The things your family did, the things they said… You tried to keep the emotions separate from your words, but it was impossible.  Within a matter of minutes, the dam finally burst, and you were openly sobbing.  As you cried, Hizashi offered you a box of tissues and put a comforting hand over yours. You clutched at it in return like a lifeline, his silent consolation tethering the broken pieces of your heart.

“I don’t know what to do now.” You whispered.  “Hizashi… what’s going to happen to me…?”

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.  Together.” He replied.

You stared at him and he stared back, a small reassuring smile on his lips.  He was such a good person.  Already, he’d managed to give you more support in the past twenty minutes than you’d received from your family in months.

You gave a sad, ironic laugh.  

“You’re like the dad I wish I had…” you muttered.

Hizashi’s eyes widened for a moment, and panic filled you.  You hadn’t meant to say that; the words had just slipped out, a small confession of tired heart. But then he laughed and scratched the back of his head.

“Haha, really?  Thanks! I guess we have gotten pretty close over the years…”

The tension in the room immediately evaporated.  You gave a small smile, glad that your comment didn’t have the dramatic impact you feared it would.  The man’s positivity seemed as immovable as the mountains.

Hizashi’s chuckles eased, and his expression softened.  “To be honest, I always knew you had family troubles.  When you teach long enough, you start to notice those kinds of things.  And back then, there really wasn’t much I could do about it.  But that’s part of why I wanted to help you, I think.  To give you a chance to grow past that, so it wouldn’t define you.”  

He stared at his hands as he continued.  “I guess, maybe in some way, I did sort of adopt you, in my heart.”  His eyes looked up at you again, holding your attention.  “So, don’t feel bad about saying that, okay?  If anything, it makes this old man’s heart happy.”

Your stared at him, your eyes freshly stinging as new emotions – happy emotions – bubbled forth.

“Hizashi….”

“Yeah?”

“Could I have a hug?”

He gave a chuckle and sat next to you before putting his arm around you. You leaned against him, soaking up the physical contact. It drove away the loneliness and replaced it with something you’d only ever really felt in his presence.

Love, strong and familial.

You had thought that you were all cried out, but you were wrong. Fresh sobs shook from your body like the boughs of a snowy tree, knocking loose all that you’d been carrying within yourself.  The anger, the fear, the self-loathing…

Hizashi rested his chin on your head as you cried. “You are my family.” He said softly.  “Only if you want to be, of course.”

You nodded fervently as a laugh bubbled from your throat, pure joy filling you.  You were safe.  You were loved.  And maybe… just maybe… you were home.

[statticscribbles]

Puppy

Summary: Reggie/Reader Request: Reggie avoids you because he overhears you talk to Kevin about your perfect guy (comic book character) so as he’s avoiding you, you keep trying to get his attention, and finally you end up kissing him cause he’s just pining after you like  lovesick puppy; after the confession and when you start dating the “lovesick puppy act” gets worse

“Kevin I’m being serious!” You smack his arm as he laughs. “No it’s just funny he doesn’t seem like the type you’d go for.” “And what do you know about my type.” You laugh with him and he smirks. “Reggie, what would you say Y/N’s type it?” You can see Reggie frown before shaking it off. “Tall, dark haired, plays football.” He winks and you smile at him. “Wow that’s so off model it’s kind of sad.” Kevin nods solemnly and you smack his arm again. “You do have to admit it though, I mean the muscles, and the hair, plus have you seen him wearing a shirt? He practically never does!” “That’s sort of the point you know that right, not wearing a shirt to attract the ladies, you included apparently.” Kevin smirks and you scowl watching Reggie almost storming out.

“I’m guessing Reggie’s not a fan of the reboot then?” You chew your lip. “You think he knew we were talking about the newest edition? I mean we’ve talked about the second volume for months so-“ “I don’t think he cares about what I talk about, you on the other hand.” “Kev, he doesn’t care about comics half as much as you do, let alone me; how much do you think he thought I was talking about a real person.” “I mean inability to keep a shirt on just screams Sweet Pea, you know that right?” “Dammit; now I have to go find him to explain don’t I.” “It works out perfectly you explain your crush to him.” “My crush on-“ “On Reggie, not that paper cutout you have in your room.” You roll your eyes and run after where you think Reggie is.

You weren’t able to find him before science but you know having to sit next to him will at least give you an excuse to explain the comic book misunderstanding. You frown when he doesn’t look at you, doesn’t talk to you. You’re stuck doing busy work since your actual teacher is out; so the chance to talk goes out the window until lunch at the earliest; since you don’t share any other classes with him. You pass him in the hallway and wave and you can tell he makes a point to turn his head away. You try to brush it off, concocting reasons for his sudden change in attitude. You complain to Kevin during math and he just laughs at your ridiculous theories. “Oh yeah, and what do you think has a stick up his ass so bad?” “He likes you; it’s why he’s so bothered by your crush you realize that right?” “Kevin that’s ridiculous; he’s Reggie freaking Mantle, he can have anyone in the school; why would he want me?” “Do you want the list alphabetically or by popularity?”

“Popularity?” “You’re a River Vixen, you’re into those weird old books that he doesn’t admit he likes; since you’re a River Vixen you have a great figure, you know how to dance, you like Pop’s.” “Kev it’s Riverdale, everyone likes Pop’s. That one doesn’t count.” “You know you two order the same thing, every time right?” “No we don’t; do we?” he laughs nodding as you make your way to lunch. “Hey Reggie” Kevin nods to him and he looks up, turning slightly away from you to focus on Kevin. “Yeah?” “What’s your standing Pop’s order.” “Burger wise or in general?”

“Isn’t the burger in general, or do you order something we don’t know about?” “You thinking about making a run down to Pop’s cause I know pretty much everyone would kill for that.” He grins and Kevin smirks. “Yeah, you wanna help me carry shit? Meet by your car in five?” Reggie nods vanishing to the parking lot and Kevin grins. “So I want a cheeseburger, extra onions and-“ “Kev why are you- No, no he’s been avoiding me all day!! I’m not going to sit with him to get Pop’s!” “You’re getting Pop’s?” You cringe at Archie and Jughead’s hovering. “Yeah, write down what you want.” You scowl holding out a spare piece of paper.

“Reggie, Kevin asked if I could go instead, he has theatre stuff to; okay.” You sigh as he opens the door silently walking around to the drivers seat. You’re silent the entire car ride, trying to start conversation but the lack of even a glance your way keeps you quiet. Reggie doesn’t say anything just holding his hand out so you stop getting out of the car. “Wait.” He says it more to the car than to you and you huff, grumbling under your breath as he pulls the list from where you set it in the cupholder. He appears moments later. “What do you want?” You decide to give him a taste of the silent treatment and point to your order you’d written. “That’s mine.” He clarifies and you point to it again glaring. ‘So you want the same thing as me?”You nod and he laughs dryly. “Won’t even talk to me great.” “Say’s the one.” You hiss and he glares openly at you.

“Well I’m not the one with a crush on someone they can’t have now am I? So who’s the real loser.” “You.” He groans and slams the door retreating back into Pop’s to order and wait for the food. You watch from the car window as he pulls the bags towards himself, you lean towards the door, opening it and walking through. “Let me help.” He doesn’t say anything sliding two of the bags towards you. He silent until you put the food in the backseat. You buckle your seatbelt waiting for him to start the car. “Listen I don’t care about whoever you have a crush on. Just making that clear.” You sigh looking up to the ceiling of the car. “Me you mean, you don’t care about me.” “Who said that?” “You did, or rather didn’t; I’ve been trying to get your attention all day to explain.” “Explain what?” “Comic books.”

“Is that code for something? Or slang for you wanting some Jangle? Cause I don’t sell; what I get is my own-“ “Kevin and I, we were talking about comic books earlier.” “Oh good for you?” “That crush isn’t on a real person.” “Oh well alright then; once again good for you. So there are other crushes?” He questions glaring slightly; you realize he didn’t want to actually talk with you. You don’t respond as he drives back to school. “Grab the food?” You ask as he stays unmoving in the car; he must catch you rolling your eyes with how he scoffs. “What? I’m going to grab the damn food.” He snaps.

“Yikes, there’s no need to be in such a pissy mood, I get you’re hungry but-“ “I’m in a pissy mood cause you’ve been avoiding me for the entire day!” “I’ve been avoiding you? I’ve been trying to get your attention since you stormed off after the crush misunderstanding!” You scowl as he shoves the other bag of food towards you. “I can avoid whoever I want regardless of how I actually feel about you.” You snap at him. “You feel differently than avoidance about me? Hard to believe; but at least you admit you were avoiding me.” You laugh shaking your head.

“The only reason I’m admitting it is so you won’t complain for the next week about how much of a bitch I’m being.” Reggie sets the food on the hood of his car leaning over you. “Don’t put words in my mouth.” He hisses about to pull the food back over when you tug on his arm. “Reggie.” Your voice is soft and you can tell he’s confused but you’re relieved as you pull yourself towards him. You’re quick about pressing your lips to his, intent on kissing him and bringing everyone their food so he doesn’t get the chance to ask you about it.

It works and as you shove Jughead’s burger into his hands you scowl when you realize your order was packed with Reggie’s. You’re about to turn around to look for him surprised to find the burger and extra fries sitting at the spot on the table you’ve claimed. “Oh thank you.” You say more toward the general table but jump slightly when Reggie’s arm lays on your shoulder. “No problem.” He seems relaxed as you sit down, he sits next to you and you cast a look to Kevin who nods, you’re thankful he’ll be able to talk later. “These are yours.” You nod to the fries and he shakes his head. “Don’t want them.” “You don’t want the cheese fries you ordered?” “Not in the mood for them anymore.” You smile pulling them closer. “You’re welcome to them, since they are yours.” He nods relaxing slightly settling closer to you as he sits.

You sigh when the bell rings, standing to grab your bag confused when Reggie hands it to you. Kevin appears, walking with you to English. “So what was that about?” He mumbles as your teacher finishes the lesson for the day. “We kissed.” “So you just skipped confessing your crush then?” He laughs and you join him. “I guess I did; we’re probably going to have to talk later.” “You better, I’m not letting you get away with not confessing to him. I don’t think he’s going to either.” He nods and you smile confused as Reggie stands at the door smirking. “Can I walk you home?” “You have a car.”

“Walk sounds better.” You arch an eyebrow. “How is walking better than you being able to drive your car?” Kevin nods as he leaves and you walk towards the door. “Well like this.” He steps to the side, slightly closer, his hand grasping yours. “You don’t want to drive because you can’t hold my hand?” You watch a blush creep onto his face. “Maybe.”

“You know you can hold my hand while you’re driving.” “I didn’t want to assume anything.” “Well we kissed, and I do have a crush on you.”’ “So you do have a type?” He straightens up beaming; and you laugh. “Yeah, you were right about the tall dark haired footballers. AKA you.” You wink and he laughs. “Do you want to go out sometime.” “Besides this?” You nudge him and he shakes his head. “This isn’t going out, I’m walking you home.” “From being out, together.” “School doesn’t count as a date.” He counters and you rolls your eyes. “Well you’ll just have to plan a date then.” He nods eagerly and you smile as he reaches your door.

You’d been dating Reggie for a week and Kevin is constantly pointing out how much Reggie’s acting like a puppy. “Kev, it’s not a thing, you’re exaggerating.” “Point proven, look.” You’re standing behind him so you know Reggie can’t see you but you can see him. He’s laughing with the rest of the Bulldogs and nods to Kevin; you watch as Kevin moves, and Reggie’s face softens and he smiles excitedly.

“Babe!” He moves from the rest of the bulldogs pulling you into a hug. “Oh my god he’s right.” “Who’s right?” Reggie pulls back slightly and you shake your head. “I’ll tell you later, we’re still on for Pop’s after the game right?” He nods leaning down to kiss you. “Of course, it’s tradition.” “This is the first time we’re doing it.” “And after it’s tradition.”

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[samdeancass]

SuperWolf

Requested by: @kikikittykis

Pairing: Scott x reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Characters: Y/N, Dean, Sam, Scott, Stiles, Derek

Description: Supernatural/Teen wolf Crossover!

"So, there have been multiple reports of murders going on in a town called Beacon Hills in central California. I think we should check it out."

Dean was sitting across from Sam, legs crossed over each other on the table and nursing a whiskey. "Murders, OK. But what makes this our sort of thing. Murders happen in small towns all the time."

Sam leaned in closer to the laptop screen and read through the article again. "It says that there were claw marks left on some of the bodies. Others were left completely mangled. I'd say that would definitely make this our sort of thing."

Dean sat upright in his chair and placed his whiskey on the table. "I don't know, Sammy. Sound just like a normal animal attack to me. I don't want to go all the way to Cali just to find out that animals have been munching on people. It just doesn't seem worth it to me."

Sam closed the laptop lid abruptly and got up from the table. "We've travelled further on less, Dean. I've got a feeling about this one. Go and get Y/N. We're leaving in 10." Sam walked away from the table and towards his room, leaving Dean sitting at the table. "Why am I always the one to get her? He knows that she hates leaving before having something to eat. She's gonna bite my fucking head off." Dean stood up from the table and made his way to your room, giving three quiet taps on the door.

You were sat upright on your bed, pillows supporting your back. Your stomach was beginning to rumble and you were about to get food when the knocks sounded at your door. "Come in!". The green eyed hunter entered your room with a sheepish look on his face. "Y/N/N, Sam's found us a case. Multiple mangled bodies in Cali. We're leaving in 10."

You groaned in response and slammed your book down on your bed. "Come on, seriously! How does this always happen when I'm going to get something to eat?! Fine, I'll be ready in 5." Dean quickly closed his door and made his way to his room, muttering under his breath how he's gonna get Sam back.

The journey to California was long and tiring. Sam and Dean were constantly bickering with each other which made you want to pull your hair out. You stopped at a few gas stations and filled the hungry void in your stomach which improved your mood a little. You all checked into a motel and began to research what the culprit could be.

"It seems like all of the murders are happening around the high school. We need somebody to go undercover and try to find out some information." Sam was sat at the table, huddled over a map. Dean looked at you as Sam finished his sentence, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Nope. No way. No fucking way, guys. I'm not going back to school. You've got no chance." You shook your head violently, completely refusing. "I had a terrible time at school. Why don't you guys do it?"

Sam and Dean smiled at each other. "Oh yeah, ok. I'm sure two fully grown men would be allowed to attend a high school, Y/N. C'mon, it'll only be until we've found what the hell this son of a bitch is and then we'll be gone." Sam flashed you his puppy dog eyes which immediately melted you.

"Fine!" You crossed your arms over your chest and sulked a little. "Sam, you really need to stop using those eyes, it's not very fair." He walked over to you and engulfed you into a bear hug, which immediately lifted your mood. "You know you love me." "Yeah, whatever. Let's get me registered so I can get this over and done with."

Scott and Stiles were walking down the hallway, whispering between themselves. "And what are you two girls whispering about?" They both stopped short when they seen Derek standing 2 feet in front of them, arms crossed and a smug smile plastered onto his face.

"What makes you think that we're acting like girls? Just because we whisper a lot and keep secrets doesn't mean we're acting - yep we're acting like girls." A red blush rose on Stiles' cheeks as he turned away from Derek, clearly embarrassed.

"What are you doing here, Derek? I thought you were staying away from us?" Scott gave Derek a questioning glare before delving into the depths of his locker to find his school books. "I need your help, Scott. Another body has been found and it looks like it was a wolf kill. We need to try and find whoever is doing this and stop them before we attract unwanted attention."

Scott turned around and opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. Derek tried to get his attention but failed so he decided to see what, or who, Scott was looking at.

Far across in the corner of the hallway, you were stuffing your useless school books in to your locker whilst talking on the phone to Dean. "This is absolutely pointless, I'm not going to find anything here, Dean." "How do you know that? You haven't even tried yet." You could practically hear the eye roll in his voice and huffed in response. "I swear, if this ends up wasting my time, Winchester, I'm gonna beat your ass."

You heard muffled laughter from the other side of the phone and hung up, internally screaming. You turned around and began to walk up the hallway to your 'class' when you felt two pairs of eyes on you. You turned around to confront these people but stopped dead in your tracks, a slight blush creeping onto your face.

"She's noticed you, McCall. Go and say something! We can talk about our wolf problem later." Scott growled a little when Derek pushed him towards you, eyes flashing red in his direction. Derek held his hands up and pulled Stiles away by his ear to stop him from eavesdropping. "Hey! Why does he always get the girls?!"

Scott shuffled forward slowly towards you, anxiety wrecking his body. He hadn't felt like this about a girl since Allison, and with what happened to her, he was a little hesitant to even think about dating another girl. You let out a breath to calm your nerves as he walked towards you.

Scott shuffled the remaining distance between you two and glanced up at you shyly. A blush rose up on your cheeks under Scott's stare. You cleared your throat quietly and began to speak.

"Hey, I'm Y/N L/N. I'm new here." You held out your hand and Scott took it, shaking it. "I'm Scott McCall, lovely to meet you. Maybe, if you wanted, I could show you around the town? There's a diner in town that sells the best milkshakes." You thought for a second before nodding your head. "That would be great, thank you." Scott led you out of the school entrance and made your way towards the diner.

"What the hell is she doing in there? She's supposed to be undercover, not going on dates!" Dean was sitting behind the wheel of the Impala, nostrils flaring in anger.

Dean and Sam had followed you to the restaurant so they could make sure you were safe.

"Is it the fact that she's not investigating or that she's with a boy?" Sam looked at his brother accusingly, knowing what the answer was.

Dean opened his mouth to say something but soon closed it when he seen you and Scott leaving the restaurant. You spotted the jet black 67 chevy in the parking lot and rolled your eyes inwardly. You turned to Scott and pressed a kiss to his cheek before saying goodbye and making your way towards the car. Both of the brothers braced themselves when you said into the backseat.

"What are you two doing here? I was investigating." You sat in the back with your arms crossed over your chest in frustration. You heard Dean take a deep breath before turning around to confront you.

"Yeah, it sure looked like investigating. What was that kiss you gave him? Looks to me like you were on a date! That's not what we're here to do!" Sam could tell Dean's anger was getting the better of him so he decided to step in.

"I think what Dean's trying to say is, don't get distracted. This job is very important and we don't want to get side tracked." Sam gave you a small smile before placing a hand on Dean's shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.

You nodded in understanding. "I know that, but I really was investigating. I was seeing if Scott knew anything about the attacks that was going on, but he didn't."

You were lucky that the brothers didn't have any telekinetic abilities to read minds because at this point they knew that you were lying. Sure, you were investigating but Scott had told you something very important and you didn't want the Winchesters to know because you knew how they would react.

"Scott? Is that his name? Kinda young for you don't ya think?" You gave Dean a slap to the back of the head. "So what? It's not like you've been able to hit on anything older than you." Sam sniggered at your reply whilst you sat back smugly.

Dean cleared his throat before getting to the root of why they were in Beacon Hills. "Well, I know you didn't find out anything about this wolf, but me and Sammy did. We're going to head out tonight to catch this son if a bitch so we should be home by morning."

Your eyes went wide. You hadn't expected them to narrow down their search so quickly. You couldn't let them hunt down this wolf, at any cost. "And what exactly did you find out? Surely its not trustworthy?"

At the other side of the parking lot, Scott was standing next to his motorbike, listening in to your conversation. Anger grew in his body. "She's a hunter?! Why didn't she tell me?"

His eyes turned red before getting on his bike and riding away before he could hear the rest of the conversation.

Sam and Dean looked at each other and began to laugh. "Whats with all the questions, Y/N? You usually don't need anything trustworthy to hunt down monsters?!"

You shrugged in response. "I don't know, I guess its just a little too quick for my liking. Can we maybe sit on this for a little whilst we delve into the situation some more?" The brothers shook their head in confusion before turning back to the front of the car. "Alright, just one night though. Then we're definitely going to hunt it down."

You and the brothers parted ways for the night and checked into your own rooms. Immediately, you threw your bags down on the floor and pulled out your phone, dialling Scott's number.

The dialling tone rang for a few seconds before Scott picked up. "What?" Your face contorted in confusion at Scott's aggressive manner. "Woah, what's the matter with you?"

You could hear Scott's breathing becoming more heavy on the other side of the line. "Why didn't you tell me you were a hunter and you were hunting one if my kind?!"

Dread filled your whole body as you sat down on the bed in an attempt to stabilise yourself. "You weren't supposed to find out about that. I wanted to tell you, but I wanted to protect you. Other hunters aren't like me, they don't sympathise like I do."

Scott's breathing began to slow down a little as he processed the new information. "You should have told me, I would have understood. But please, leave this situation to us, we've got this handled. It'll be sorted by the end of the night."

You and Scott carried on the conversation for a few more minutes before hanging up. You lay back on the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

Loud bangs on the door awoke you the next morning. You groaned at few loudness and swore inwardly at the people who dared wake you. You opened the door and found the Winchesters smiling widely at you.

"What do you want? Don't you know its rude to wake up a woman?" You walked slowly back into your room before flouncing back down on the bed.

"Good morning to you to". Dean walked in and grumbled slightly under his breath before you narrowing your eyes at him in response. "Turns out, it was just a wolf that was killing people. The cops found it this morning."

You sat up straight and stared at Sam. "Really?" Sam nodded in response as Dean took a seat at the table. "I told you it was a waste if time travelling down here, that it was just a normal animal attack. But did you listen to me? Nooooo."

Sam shook his head at Dean's childish actions. "Me and Dean have already checked out. We'll be waiting for you in the car when you're ready."

You gathered your belongings together after getting dressed and headed out to the Impala, handing in your keys at the desk after.

"Guys, can we please make a stop at the high school first. I need to say goodbye to Scott." Dean rolled his eyes in the mirror and began to place his foot down harder on the accelerator.

You had texted Scott to tell him you were on your way. He was waiting outside the school when the Impala pulled up. You got out of the car and walked towards him.

"Thank you for stalling them, Y/N. We managed to catch the wolf before they did anymore damage. I'm so sorry I was angry at you, I should be used to things like that by now."

You placed a warm hand on Scott's face which he leaned in to. "You don't have to say sorry. You had a right to be worried, given what you are. So thank you for catching whoever it was before those two got their hands on it."

Scott laughed in response. "So I guess this is goodbye then?" You nodded. "For now, yes. But I'll be back to visit my favourite werewolf."

Scott blushed at this before crashing his lips on yours in a passionate goodbye. After a few seconds, you both parted away from each other. He kissed your hands before you walked away.

"I'll text and call you, OK?" Scott nodded before waving goodbye and heading back into the school.

You slid into the backseat of the car when the brothers turned to face you, smug smiles on their faces.

"Looks like somebody's found someone she likes."

"Just drive you idiot."

You smiled to yourself and began counting down the days you'll be back in Beacon Hills.

[forever-rogue]

Javier Prompt, if you're willing!! Javier comes home late from work to find the apartment empty, and begins to panic because his pregnant significant other isn't there. He's been nervous the last few months, and it's only gotten worse. When the phone rings and she's on the other end asking for him to come pick her up, he just imagines the worst possibilities.

I’m just...so...soft at the thought of dad to be Javi. Like...just imagine it... 🥺

I also realized that I read this prompt a little wrong and changed it slightly, but I hope you still like it!

Javier Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was the heart of summer, the warmest time of the year, and Colombia was in the middle of a heat wave. It was a stifling heat, the kind that was pervasive and deep to penetrate deep into your bones no matter how hard you tried to find relief. Warm mornings turned to even warmer afternoons which led to balmy evenings. Normally, you’d be able to handle it fairly well, as the heat generally didn’t bother you that much. But the not so little fact that you were almost eight months pregnant during all of this did not help. It only served to make you more miserable and it was almost impossible to find any sort of relief.

Javier, your boyfriend and the most Nervous Nellie of a father to be, was attentive to your needs, finding all sorts of ways to ease your discomforts and make you feel better. You were pretty sure that he’d read more pregnancy books than you had, and there was a small growing library of them in the living room bookcase. As soon as you told him you were pregnant, something you had been reluctant to do since you had no clue how he would respond to this surprise, he had shifted into dad mood. Sometimes you were sure he was more excited than you were - the way his eyes had lit up when you had first announced the news and shown him the positive pregnancy test was forever burned into your mind. It was a treasured moment that you never wanted to let go of.

All the knowledge he gathered and all the little tips and tricks learned along the way had been helpful more times than not. But unfortunately, nothing could help you in this heat - no amount of cold showers and drinks and fans seemed to help. You could barely sleep at night, finding it hard to sleep any position with your large belly, and Javi’s warm body to you. He seemed to run warm as it was and it certainly wasn’t helping now..

The one little bit of relief you did find, however, came in the form of the frozen yogurt that Javier had found by chance at the supermarket, thinking you might like it. And you had; you’d almost devoured the whole container in one sitting, and it seemed to cool you ever so slightly. One late night, when you really couldn’t sleep, you’d gotten a hankering for the sweet dessert, and but also something sour. Imagine Javi’s surprise when he woke up to go to the bathroom and found you sitting on the couch watching late night television and eating pickles dipped in the frozen yogurt.

“Oh honey,” his voice was tired and thick with sleep as tried his best not to laugh at the sight. You looked up at him, with a small, sheepish smile on your face as you took another bite of the crunchy pickle. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your before plopping down on the couch next to you, “pickles and ice cream?”

“Froyo,” you corrected him, waving the pickle in front of his face and offering him a bite. He shook his head before wrapping an arm around your shoulder and watching as you dipped the pickle back in and coated it in the frozen yogurt before eating it, “you should go back to bed, Javi. You’ve been exhausted, my love.”

“I couldn’t sleep...again,” he admitted with a small sigh, “and then I found you gone, and then I saw the light on. Why...why on earth are you eating that?”

“Your kid was hungry,” you shrugged lightly, looking pointedly between him and your large stomach, “and I was hot, so I figured this could solve both of my problems.”

“Hey, that is half your kid as well,” he snorted with laughter as put his hand on your belly, rubbing it gently. The baby always seemed to know when it was Javier touching your stomach, moving softly and kicked at the feel of his touch and sound of his voice, “they’re moving.”

It always seemed to amaze him, each time the same as it had the first time, his face lighting up with joy and sheer love. You tried not to get emotional, but with your raging hormones, it was hard to keep anything in check, and you felt that familiar prickling start at the back of your eyes. Putting a hand on top of his, you turned to give him a smile, a tear inadvertently slipping down your cheek. Javi gently reached over and softly wiped it away before giving you a sweet kiss, “honey, don’t cry, it’s alright.”

“I know,” you said softly, feeling the water works preparing to well up, “it’s just...I love you so much, and I’m so excited and happy, but right now being pregnant sucks and I want it to be over and I don’t at the same time because I’m so nervous to meet the baby, our baby, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. I know you’ll be the best father, but I worry that I won’t be a good mother. I mean, look at me, I’m sitting here and eating frozen yogurt and pickles and crying.”

“Honey,” Javi put his hand on your cheek and leaned in closer to you, his lips brushing faintly against yours, “you’re alright, you’re going to be just fine. It’s just your hormones - I promise. You’re going to be an amazing mother - the best mother. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to be in your position right now, or how it feel at all, but you are incredible for everything you’re doing. I mean, think about it, you’re carrying our child right now. Do you have any idea what a feat that is, how amazing you are?”

“You’re just saying that because I’m pathetic and pregnant,” you sniffled lightly, but he cut you off with a firm kiss, his hand going to the back of your heading, holding you close. It warmed you up completely, in a different way this time, one that was not unpleasant and overbearing, but comforting, “Javi...”

“I know,” he whispered quietly, “I love too.”

“Really?” you asked, your voice but a mere, soft whimper. He nodded softly, nuzzling his nose against yours. Of course you knew he loved you; it was just all of these crazy hormones making you question everything.

“Really, mi amor,” he promised, “you, and our child, even if you’re resorting to silly things such as eating ice cream and pickles.”

“Froyo,” you laughed lightly, feeling a wash of reassurance flood over you. It was hard, especially this far along to remain positive, but it was always easier when you had Javi. He was your rock, your anchor, and helped you keep a level head through all of this, just like you often did with him. The two of you made a good pair, and you hoped that would translate into good parenting.

“Froyo and all,” he corrected, “I love every part of you. Always.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

On this particular evening, you were at home by yourself, boredom and warmth setting in as you couldn't find anything to hold your interest. You'd made dinner and saved some for Javi, who was working late. He'd told you when he left in the morning that it would he a long day, but a part of you had wished that something would happen and allow him to come home sooner.

But it was nearing ten in the evening and you weren't sure when he'd be back. He was on a stakeout with Steve, meaning it was anyone's guess. Feeling listless, you decided to go for a short walk. It would at least give you some exercise and maybe help to cool you down, should you find some sort of breeze.

You scribbled a note on the pad next to the phone, in the off chance that Javi would return before you came back. Perching the note up so it was easily visible, you walked, or waddled over rather, to your purse and grabbed a few dollars and your key before heading out.

It probably wasn't the best idea to go out, at night, alone, in the midst of everything going on in Colombia, but you really just needed to get out at this point. Surely Javi could understand that, right? But....perhaps he wouldn't.

He'd been such a mother hen lately, ensuring that everything was perfect and attending to your every need. While you didn't mind, not for the most part anyway, sometimes it was a little overwhelming. Being pregnant was enough of a chore, but having someone constantly underfoot wasn't any better. You loved him and he meant well, but sometimes you just needed a break.

Stepping out into the slightly cooler evening air, you let out a sigh of relief as you started your little trek around the block. Suddenly, a brilliant idea struck you; the supermarket where Javi had found your treasured frozen yogurt was close by. Making up your mind, you decided you'd pick up a carton of the stuff and a new jar of pickles.

»»————-　♡　————-««

When Javier arrived home, he was tired, exhausted even, and couldn't wait to get in bed and have you in his arms. It was late, later than he would have liked but his long day was finally over. He'd even come to the decision that he would be working fewer hours and staying out of the field when possible. It was going to a be a big change, but his main priority was you and your baby and he wanted to be around should anything happen. He had a feeling that you'd try and argue with him, but his mind was made up.

"Hermosa," he let out a long sigh as he tried to unlock the door, but stopped, eyebrows knitting together in confusion when he realized the door was already unlocked. Strange. Neither of you ever kept it unlocked, and you definitely knew better.

A tingle of nerves started at the base of his spine as he opened the door and walked inside slowly, unsure of what to expect. The television was on and the window was open, all signs pointing to the fact that you would be home.

"Honey?" his voice faltered slightly as he walked down the hallway and poked his head his head in the bedrooms and bathrooms, trying to see if he could find you. But you were nowhere to be found.

His heart started to race slightly as he reached for the gun in the waistband of his jeans and pulled it out, holding it at the ready. His mind immediately went into overdrive as a million horrid, dark thoughts appeared. Every single bad thought he possessed within the far recesses of mind were suddenly right up front.

What if someone had come and taken you? If someone had broken in? What if something had happened with you and the baby? What if, what if, what if?

There appeared to he no signs of a struggle, but he knew better than anyone that appearances could be deceiving. Your purse was still here and the smell of cooking lingered in the kitchen.

"Fuck," he said softly to himself, running a hand over his face in exasperation as he came to the conclusion that something had to have happened, "Fuck!"

He grabbed the phone, throwing the notepad face down onto the floor in his haste and quickly dialed Steve's number. Anxiously waiting for him to answer, he almost shouted in the receiver, "she's gone! I just got back but she's not here!"

It took Steve only a beat to figure out Javi was in distress about you and he tried to calm him down. Surely there must be there another explanation, "hey, hey, hey, I'm sure it's alright-"

"The door was unlocked, her things are here, TV on. It looks like someone got in here and just took her," it was hard to remain calm when not only could you possibly be at risk, but also the baby, "fuck! Has she talked to Connie at all? Does she know anything?"

He heard Steve mumbling something to Connie, asking her if you had mentioned anything to her or spoken to her. He let out a heavy sigh before returning to Javi, "Con hasn't heard anything. Javi, just relax, I'm sure there's a reasonable-"

"She's missing, Steve! She's almost eight months pregnant and you expect me to calm down!?" he didn't mean to sound as harsh as he did, but he was extremely stressed. He couldn't even remember the last time he had been this worried.

"Make whatever calls you need to and I'll be there to help," Steve hung up the phone as Javi nodded, trying to focus as he tried to make a game plan for how to find you.

»»————-　♡　————-««

After some time you'd finally managed to find your favorite flavor of frozen yogurt and a big jar of pickles, you made your way home, ready to dig in and wait for Javi.

The evening had cooled down further and you strolled back at a leisurely pace, not that you had much of a choice this far in, taking your time to get back. When you got into the complex and made your way to your shared apartment, you thought you heard some voices, and grew excited to think that Javi might be back.

Unlocking the door slowly you stepped in, mouth dropping at sight in front of you. Javi, Steve, and Connie were all around the kitchen table, pouring over what looked like a map, the phone next to them.

"Hey everyone," they were so immersed in their little discussion none of them had noticed you at first, "what's going on?"

Javi's dark eyes flicked up to meet yours momentarily before looking back down at the map. It took him a good few moments before he finally realized it was you, "honey! You're here...you're back! Where the hell have you been?"

"Yeah, of course I'm back..." you walked over to the table and set your bag down, "I live here? I went for a walk and stopped at the market for frozen yogurt and pickles."

"Why!?"

"Your kid was hungry as normal?" you said as if it was no big deal, "and I wanted to get out for a little bit."

"The door was unlocked," he come over to you and put his hands on your face, a clearly distressed look on his face, "the lights and the television were on and I could smell dinner, and you weren't home. I was so worried."

"I just left everything on because I was just going on for a little bit. And in case you came home before me, I didn't want everything all dark," your heart sank a little when you saw how upset he is, "I'm sorry, Javi, I honestly thought I'd be back before you."

"I was so worried! I thought someone had come and taken you or something had happened to baby!" he threw up his hands in exasperation. You knew he wasn't mad at you, he was just in general panic mode over anything related to you right now, "what was I supposed to think?"

"Javi, I left you a note where you would see it," you let out a small sigh as you spied the notepad on the floor, your note still face down. Making your over to it, you tried to pick it up, but quickly came to the conclusion that it was going to be a herculean feat. Connie quickly came to your rescue and swooped it up and studied it before handing it to you, "how did this get on the floor? I left it up so you would easily see it."

Javi came over and took it from your hand, quickly reading it over. He hung his head when he realized he must have knocked it over, "fuck. I must have done that and not noticed."

"If you'd been in the office I would have called you, my love," you put a hand on shoulder and gave it a light squeeze, "but I didn't know if you'd be there...so I just left the note."

He let out a soft groan before taking your hand and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, "I'm sorry, honey. I just...the door was unlocked and I worry. Especially with everything going on right now and you're so close. I...might have overreacted a little bit..."

"You think?" you teased him, wrapping your arms his neck, holding him as close as possible, with the exception of your stomach, "trust me, if someone was breaking in, I would put up a fight and someone would have heard my screaming. If anything was wrong with the baby, I would have gone to Connie."

"But honey-"

"Just because I'm pregnant doesn't I can't put a fight. Anyone tries to come for you or our baby, they're going to catch sight of these hands," you insisted, causing him, Steve, and Connie to break into laughter, "what?! What's so funny?"

"Hermosa," Javi met your eyes for a moment, putting his hand on your face as he gave you a soft smile, "baby, you're 34 weeks pregnant, you cry when you can't pick things up off the floor. You cried at a commercial last night. I don't think you're going to kick anyone's ass."

"Try me, Javier Peña, try me," you put your hands, and tried your best to give him a mean look, "I've got that crazy pregnancy strength!"

"I love you," Javi just laughed before giving a soft kiss, "so much. I’m so glad you’re okay."

"I love you too," you grinned at him, "sorry for worrying you. The one time you come early! If I had any clue I would have just waited. Sorry Steve, sorry Con. You got dragged into all of this because of me. I should have just told Connie and made her come with me."

"It's dangerous to go out alone," Javi reminded you and just pouted your lips at him.

"I just needed to go out and damn kid just wanted a damn snack," you laughed lightly at yourself, "now half the city is probably out looking for me."

"Try half the country," Steve corrected as you just looked at Javi and he sheepishly shrugged at you. He gave Connie a look and the two of them shared a nod, deciding it was time for them to go, "glad you're okay and it was just a misunderstanding. I think this should serve as a lesson to keep calm, right Javi?"

"Fuck off, Murph," Javi flipped him the bird but gave him a thankful smile nonetheless. You gave them a wave before crossing your arms over your chest and shaking your head at him, "I was worried, alright? Every single thought bad of what could have happened to you went through my mind. I would never forgive myself something happened to you, either of you, because of me."

"I know," you put your hand on his cheek and rubbing your thumb gently over his cheekbone, "nothing will ever happen to me or this bean. At least not because of you, probably because I tried over my own feet, which I haven't seen in months, thank you very much."

"You don't know that-"

"Javi, I do," you insisted firmly, "you take such good care of us all the time. You do everything. I know nothing will go wrong, we're safe and sound, here with you.”

“I cannot believe I was this worried about my wife going out and getting ice cream and pickles,” he let out a long sigh of relief as he watched you with a small smile. He took your hand and laced your fingers together, “you are...something else.”

“Firstly - froyo,” you reminded him with a laugh, “and secondly - not your wife.”

“Not yet,” he beamed at you with a little wink. He had plans for that, big plans, but he wasn’t about to tell you that yet.

“Oh yeah, is that so?” you played it cool but internally you were bubbling up with excitement.

“Yeah,” he promised, giving you a nod, “but that’s a discussion for another time. Now why don’t get your...dessert? Snack? Whatever you call and we can go to bed. I’m exhausted.”

“That’s what you get for panicking,” you traced you a finger down his nose before kissing it gently. He held you there for a moment, resting his forehead against yours, “I love you, Javi. Really.”

“I love you too, honey,” his voice was barely above a whisper, “even if you do stress me out.”

“Out of love.”

“Aye, dios mio,” he made quick work of scooping you up in his arms, making it effortless and like you totally weren’t heavily pregnant, “you’ve lost all privileges now. Time for bed.”

“Okay, but when you say it like that, it doesn’t sound like a punishment, it just sounds sexy,” you giggled as he started carrying you towards the bedroom, “and that’s how I got pregnant in the first place!”

“Honey...”

“And don’t forget my froyo and pickles!”

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 22

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: there is a HUGE musical theatre reference in this chapter and i’m rly happy it is here 😉 hope you enjoy this chapter xx thank you so much for the love you’ve been giving this series so far, i love you all so so much !! 

NEXT CHAPTER

In any other circumstances, Y/N would’ve been crying but considering Daniel was downstairs awaiting her. She was happy, she convinced herself, she was happy to spend Christmas with Dan, Gwen and everyone else. She was happy, this was just her post first time brain playing tricks on her. Why would she expect the mob boss to suddenly drop his plans to come and spent Christmas with her at his wife’s childhood home? Maybe it was a good idea he didn’t want to go with her. How hypocrite to walk into Gwen’s house with the same husband to be she just slept with. God, Y/N, get your head in the game.

With the bag that hadn’t been unpacked the day prior she abandoned her bedroom, head slightly turning towards Sebastian’s room. Unconsciously, she hoped he would be at the door but it was closed. There was no way he was spending Christmas with the Forrests and Y/N did not know why she was hoping he did. Well, she knew why. She was an hopeless girl filled to the brim with naivety. Shaking those thoughts and the events of last night into a black corner of her mind, she went down the stairs where Dan was standing, awaiting her on his phone. 

     - Hey Dan. - she forced a smile out of her clouded, over ran mind. The eldest Forrest sibling smiled at her, coming in for a hug. However, Y/N was not much into the mindset to be hugged or to be her regular self so she let herself be embraced with a dazed off look. - We should be going before it starts snowing again. 

     - Of course, birdie. 

She gave the upstairs another look as she followed Daniel onto the lift. She was happy, right? She was happy to go spend Christmas with those who she considered the only sort of family she had ever known. She was happy. She couldn’t be happier. Right? Couldn’t be happier, right there with Dan in the car, sort of like her own happy ending, right? Spending Christmas like she always did. Though it is she admits the tiniest bit unlike she anticipated but she couldn’t be happy. No, she’s happy, she’s happy to be here driving away from the Upper East into her childhood home. 

However, there’s a kind of a sorta of cost, a sort of thing that got lost when she left that bedroom. There are bridges you cross you didn’t know you crossed until you crossed and Y/N, Y/N had just crossed that bridge. With an overwhelming sadness in her eyes, a far cry from the bright sparks whenever she got to see the decorations from the car windows, she leaned against the glass, finger raising up to doodle sweet nothings onto the fogged surface.

It didn’t take as long as she was expecting to arrive to her childhood home. Maybe this was due to her need to be inside her mind wondering if she had done something mid falling asleep and waking up that would’ve hurt Sebastian. Did she hurt him in any other way or was he just playing safe? He was an analytical man, after all he needed to be in order to thrive in the environment he’d been born in. Maybe Y/N was expecting regular expectations from a man who wasn’t regular. 

    - You’re very quiet. - Dan was the first one out of the car, thanking the driver before taking her bag off the back. - Did something happen with Sebastian? I was worried about leaving you alone with him.

    - Don’t you think it’s odd he doesn’t want to spend Christmas with us ... I mean with Gwen? She is his ... wife-to-be. 

    - Dad doesn’t really want him here. Don’t you remember Gwen’s 18th? He was here. 

    - I’m sure I would remember if he had been around. - however, in all honesty, Y/N had spent Gwen’s 18th, which had also been her 18th, much more interested in reading Pride and Prejudice for the 100th time. - Why doesn’t Mr. Forrest want him here?

    - You’re making a lot of questions you don’t need the answer to, birdie. 

    - Why do you always leave me in the dark? I’m 24, I’m not exactly a child anymore. - she crossed her arms, annoyed at the lack of responses to her questions. Maybe it was the newly found annoyance at everything that gave her the chops to stand up and ask for some answers.

    - You are not in the mob, Y/N. You don’t get to ask questions and you certainly don’t get to have the answers. - he harshly opened the door, allowing her to come inside and see the same sights she saw every single year. How come she didn’t feel as excited as she should? The decorations seemed prettier and shinier in her mind and the once environment she was sad not to return to, she was now sad to be in. It just felt empty. 

   - Where is the staff? - she looked around, noticing the substantially lack of people running around despite for a few bodyguards.

    - Gwen gave them Christmas off. - Dan shrugged. - I guess she’s preparing herself to be a housewife. 

   - I seriously doubt that. - she muttered under her breathe before grabbing her bag and climbing up to her bedroom. It was mostly unchanged, like a picture frame of what her life had been like before she had met him. Well, turns out she might have met him prior but Gwen’s and her 18th birthday had been a mostly chaotic experience so maybe her brain had compartalised that far far away from her. 

Sitting down in her bed she let out a huff. God what did she want? First she wanted to spend Christmas like she always did and when she got it she felt miserable. Is that how people behave after losing their virginity or was Y/N missing him already? It surely had hurt her for him not even to consider coming with her but if Mr. Forrest wasn’t found of him then maybe it made sense. Anyway, it felt like a cold answer and Y/N was starting to tire herself of being constantly left in the dark. If she was good enough to be close to Mr. Forrest’s daughter then she was good enough to get answers. 

Much too upset with that whole line of thought, Y/N grabbed her phone from her back pocket, unlocking it to reach for her contact list. She didn’t have many which gave her an easy path towards who she wanted to reach. Sebastian. After convincing herself that he wasn’t mad at her and that all of this was a great misunderstanding, she dialled his number. Leaning her ear against the phone she heard the long and high beeps, expecting to hear his voice anytime soon. However, it never came through.  

    - I thought I’d head Daniel arrive. - Y/N raised her head from her bed to see Mr. Forrest by the door. - I’m sure you’re hungry, Y/N. Why don’t you join us for lunch and great the guests.

    - I’m not entirely sure I’m up for food, Mr. Forrest.

    - Nonsense. Besides, I’m sure Gwen misses you. - he fully opened the door, gesturing out. Gwen, yeah, how was Y/N gonna look in her eye ever again? As she went down the stairs with the head of the family, she wondered how she was ever gonna speak to Gwen ever again until she spotted her at the table being very cozy with one of the associates sons. Great, just what she wanted, a table full of the same associates that clearly disliked her by the cabaret experience. However, it wasn’t Gwen flirting with the young men at the table or the amount of associates present at Christmas Eve, it was a very familiar man sat next to the only empty seat. - Y/N, I’m sure you’ve met Mr. Williams before. He’s spending the holidays with us. 

    - Yes, we’ve had the pleasure. - he smiled as she sat next to him. - We are very glad you can spend Christmas with us, Miss Y/N.

    - Imagine having to spend the holidays with Sebastian in that tiny overrated penthouse. - Gwen said before stuffing her mouth with a forkful of meat loaf.

    - He is really not that bad, Gwen. - Y/N spoke up in her normal soft and melodic voice. Normally her opinions tended to go unnoticed but at those words, every single person seemed to redirect his attention towards her. 

    - Never mind Y/N. She’s a very forgiving person. - Mr. Forrest diffused the situation with the sort of swiftness that only people holding power could do so. Soon enough, everyone was too distracted in their own affairs and conversations to really care about Y/N. She didn’t care much about being invisible, in all honesty, her expectation in life was to be invisible and so far she was good at it. Invisible people don’t deal with conflicts ... well at least not physical conflicts as she has mental conflicts galore. 

The meal took a rather long time to finish with people laughing and stopping to comment on various issues and she had to admit not having the staff to speak to was a bit boring. Yet again, Y/N was already quite uncomfortable being next to Mr. Williams and the weird aura he always let through, so she had spent most of her lunch checking her phone for any new messages, any new calls but there were none to be seen. He was probably busy, he was a busy important man. 

    - ... no, there’s no need. Y/N can take the dishes into the kitchen. - her name being spoken by Gwen made her raise her gaze from her phone onto the table and Gwen. - Right?

   - Gwen ... - Daniel warned, voice low but still laced with threat. In normal situations, she would’ve recognised it, but the heiress was much too intoxicated with champagne. 

   - What? It’s not like she’s part of the family, she’s staff. - she added and in that moment Y/N felt a bit less guilty she had slept with her husband to be.

   - Genevieve, that’s rude. - Mr. Forrest added.

   - What? It’s true, she’s a handmaid.

   - Gwen ... - Daniel returned with that same threatening voice but Y/N found it rather hypocritical coming from the same man who just a second ago had shot all her questions down in a rather rude manner. 

    - It’s alright. - Y/N stood up and started collecting all the plates, stacking them together on top of her arms.

Gwen was right, at the end of the day this wasn’t her family. They had raised her but they weren’t her family at the end of the day. She was just a handmaid. She wasn’t part of the mob, she was a handmaid. A handmaid. She never thought about the word itself for too long, always considering herself a friend but at the end of the day she was a subordinate to everyone and that was what she would always be. 

Words can hurt and these words had cut through her. Not even Sebastian seemed to want to actually pick up her calls. Maybe Gwen was right, she was a handmaid and that was what she was always gonna be. 

She put the dishes on the sink, taking them one by one to dispose of the food scraps and start scrubbing them. She looked down at her soapy hands and then at the metal kettle on her side, noticing her reflection in it. The tendrils flying in front of her head and the soap suds made her look exactly like the staff Gwen made her out to be. She was too lost in how she looked in her reflection that the slippery plate slipped off her hand, shattering onto the floor into a thousand bits. 

Y/N kneeled down, starting to pick up the shards so lost in her own negative thinking she didn’t realise tears had started to run down her cheeks until they hit the palm of her hand and she broke down sobbing in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by the shards of porcelain which once were a plate. 

Just a handmaid. Out of the sudden, it seemed to her that she had finally realised what she was. A subservient. At that point, Y/N wondered if that what she was to Sebastian too, a submissive creature which he could do with as she pleased.

   - It’s just a plate, there’s really no need for there to be any tears about it. - she immediately straightened her posture, returning to her standing position.

   - Mr. Williams. 

   - It’s really unfair, isn’t it? - he circled her, leaning against a opposite marbled surface in the kitchen. - People like us getting treated like dirt by the top ones. 

   - I’d really rather not speak about it. - she smiled softly, hoping he would leave. - It’s really no issue, I enjoy doing the dishes anyway. 

   - It hurts, doesn’t it, Miss Y/N? To know that she’s the one who is going to walk down the isle and you’re gonna be in the sideline. 

   - I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir. I really need to return to the dishes.

   - You and Mr. Stan aren’t fooling anyone. Maybe Genevieve, but you’re definitely not fooling me, birdie. You’re not the mistress type.

tag list: @lilya-petrichor​ @xoxohannahlee​ @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater​ @nikkipea​ @madisonpillstrom​ @cevans98​ @thelostallycat​ @sideeffectsofyou​ @anxiousdreamersworld​ @captainchrisstan​ @lookiamtrying​​ @sarge-barnes-sir​​​​​ @stuffforreferences​​ @thebadassbitchqueen @sebastianstansqueen​​

[returntobeaconhills]

Moonrise - Chapter Two

Chapter Two - The Hungry Fox 

Walt puts out dishes heaped with eggs and bacon as everyone takes a seat for their post-run breakfast.

"What are your plans for the day?" Talia asks her children, but her eyes are specifically on Derek.

"I don't have class. Thought I'd draw for a while, out at the edge of the preserve." Derek clears his throat and picks at his bacon.

"That sounds like a nice day," Walt says. "You should stop back in for lunch and I'll make you a chicken pesto sandwich. How does that sound?"

Derek smiles. "Yeah, Dad. Thanks."

Cora checks the time. "I've got to head out. I'm supposed to open the coffee shop today."

Laura finishes up and stands. "I can give you a ride."

"Have a good day, girls," Talia says.

"Thanks for breakfast, Dad," Derek says as he finishes his own food.

"Of course. I'll see you at lunch." Walt starts to clear the dishes.

"I look forward to seeing your sketches later," Talia tells Derek with a smile, but her face is still lined with concern.

Derek leans and nuzzles lightly against her shoulder, head bowed.

Talia sighs, comforted by the touch. She pets over his hair. "You never tell me that I worry too much like your sisters do."

"I don't know what's wrong with me," Derek says with a small laugh. "Anytime we're not all together, it's like there's a hook in my chest, pulling me to wherever the others are."

Talia turns her face to look at him. "There is nothing wrong with you! You just feel a strong bond to the pack." She hugs him. "Would you like to stay home with me today?"

Derek shakes his head. "No, I'm okay." He pauses. "That's what makes it so strange, you know? I don't even remember making the decision to break from the pack and chase. I just did it."

Talia's lips go thin. "Do you think something else was controlling you?"

Derek tilts his head and considers. "I don't know. I don't think so, but...felt like instinct. Felt like when I was first learning to control the shift, and I'd turn without even realizing I'd done it."

Talia studies him for a long moment. "Promise me you'll be careful."

"I promise," Derek murmurs. Talia squeezes Derek's hand. "So, tell me, what did this fox look like?"

"It was a little fennec fox. Sort of tan-colored. Great big ears. They're not native to California, but. Immigrants, I guess." Derek licks his lips. "And as a boy, I didn't see him very long, but he was tall and pale and... freckly."

"I see." Talia suppresses a smile. "Maybe you can draw the fox from memory while you're out today."

Derek's eyes light up. "You're right. That's a great idea."

Talia stands and kisses Derek's hair. "Take some snacks and water with you so you don't get hungry."

"Yes, ma'am." Derek gets to his feet, stretches, and waits for his mother's dismissal.

Talia nods. "You may go."

Derek bows his head and goes upstairs to shower and dress.

As soon as Derek steps outside, it feels as if he is being watched. Derek tightens the straps on his backpack, a nervous habit, and starts walking out to the edge of the preserve.

As Derek is making his way through the preserve, his eye catches something unusual. As he approaches, he realizes it's a pile of clothing: a discarded hoodie, a T-shirt, jeans, sneakers, socks, and boxers. He kneels down next to the pile, scenting the air.

Once he catches the scent, the fox comes into view. The fox tilts his head as he watches Derek.

"Hey," Derek says, surprised. "It's you."

The fox lets out a short bark.

Derek flashes his eyes blue. "You never saw me like this. Do you recognize me?"

The fox huffs and nods his head. Still on his knees, Derek holds out a hand, palm up.

The fox approaches slowly. After several long moments, he sniffs Derek's hand. The fox pushes his head against Derek's hand in order to be petted.

“Hey, little guy,” Derek says with a laugh, gently running his fingertips along the fox’s ears.

At the use of 'little guy,' the fox nips lightly at Derek's wrist.

“Ow. Oh--sorry. You’re not just--those are really nice ears,” Derek offers.

The fox preens and ducks his head to offer Derek his ears. Upon closer inspection, Derek can see a small dusting of freckles and moles along the cream-colored fur.

“Wow, you have freckles even in your shifted form.” Derek’s fingertips hover over the freckles, mapping them from a distance like stars. “That’s...I didn’t even know that could happen. That’s amazing.” He gives a self-conscious laugh, looking away as a blush creeps up his neck.

The fox jumps on Derek's arm and climbs up to perch on his shoulder. He noses at Derek's red cheek before moving over Derek's shoulder to paw at his backpack.

“I’ll show you what’s inside, but you gotta jump off first. I don’t want you to fall off when I set it down.”

The fox uses Derek's shoulder as a launch pad to jump from. He settles on the hoodie as he watches with large eyes.

“Okay.” Derek swings the bag off of his shoulder and unzips it, pulling out several bottles of water, a brown paper bag with a bit of a grease stain on the bottom, a box of pencils, and a sketchpad.

The fox immediately pounces on the bag. He tries to tug it with his small teeth, but the sight is mostly comical.

Derek’s brow furrows slightly, even as his lips pull up. “Hey, little g--uh, fox. Are you hungry?” His eyes widen. “D-did I keep you from doing your hunting last night?”

The fox scratches at the bag and looks up at Derek.

“Sorry, yeah, let me...” Derek pulls a plastic container out of the bag, a bit of oil fingerprinting the outside. He opens it to reveal an aromatic Greek-style pasta dish with a bit of cooked lamb tucked into the corner, placing the meal in front of the fox.

The fox dives in, his little paws slipping in the dirt as he moves to eat. The fox eats about half of the food before pulling back. He yawns and curls up on the clothes.

“I’ll leave the rest for you. After your nap.” Derek puts the lid back on the container and picks up his drawing materials.

One of the fox's eyes stays cracked open, curious as to what Derek will do next.

Derek opens one of the water bottles and sets it upright on the ground next to the food. “Thirsty?”

The fox gets up and moves toward the bottle. He uses a paw to knock the bottle over and starts to drink as the water spills out.

“That’s good.” Derek clears his throat as he opens his sketchbook. “We always have plenty of food. More than enough.”

The fox gets his fill of water before settling back on the clothes. He hides his face with a paw as he sleeps.

Only the sound of the pencil moving across paper accentuates the fox’s even breathing. Derek stays perfectly still except to draw.

His phone goes off with a text. The fox stirs and lifts his head to look at Derek with as much annoyance as the small face can muster.

Talia to Derek: Everything okay, sweetheart?

Derek turns his phone to silent.

Derek: Yes.

The fox stretches out and sleeps for another half hour. When he wakes, the fox jumps up on a tree stump to get a view of Derek's drawing.

Derek breaks his pencil in his clumsy rush to try to cover up an extremely detailed sketch of the sleeping fox.

The fox huffs and scowls as Derek moves to hide his work. He jumps down and moves into Derek's backpack. He pokes his head outside, but doesn't make any other movements to leave it.

“Get cold sometimes?” Derek asks, voice a little too high as he closes his sketchbook.

The fox moves its head from side to side to indicate he’s not in the bag because he’s cold.

"That's good." Derek reaches out to pet him.

The fox starts a soft purr under the attention. Derek chuckles, a low, pleased rumble. The fox moves out of the bag and starts jumping around in a circle. He flashes his eyes at Derek.

"What's this?" Derek smiles at the sight, but scents the air to make sure it isn't a warning.

Sensing nothing, Derek looks back to the fox, who noses at the hoodie, then jumps up again before tugging at Derek's pant leg.

"Should I follow you? Want to show me something?"

The fox gives up and sits back. He considers for a moment before he darts off as fast as he can.

A growl escapes Derek before he can help it. He tugs off his clothes and shifts with a groan, running full-speed in pursuit.

The fox swishes his tail, almost taunting. With a short, joyful howl, Derek leaps over him, landing in front of the little fox so that they're facing each other. The fox scents at Derek before rubbing its face against Derek's legs. Derek flips onto his back, paws up by his chest, giving the fox room to play on his belly. The fox jumps up on Derek's stomach and nips at Derek's jaw.

As the fox's nose moves over Derek's throat, he goes perfectly, unnaturally still. The fox sits back on Derek's belly, confused. Derek shivers, nearly dislodging the fox in the process. The fox jumps down and lowers its head. Derek gets back up, shaking his head, taking a moment to recover before licking the fox’s nose in reassurance. The fox nuzzles against Derek. The wolf mouths at the fox’s snout again. The fox pulls back and sneezes, his small head twitching. There’s no mistaking the smile that overtakes Derek’s face, letting his long, wolfish tongue loll to the side. He leans in and licks the top of the fox’s head. The fox playfully slaps at Derek's nose before sprinting off.

They spend hours this way--Derek chasing the fox, constantly tackling or pouncing or nuzzling, and the two of them taking breaks in between to roll around and play in the underbrush.

As it grows dark, Derek hears Talia's howl.

Derek stills, ears pricking up. He howls in return, eyes bright blue, before he makes eye contact with the fox to see if he understands.

The fox licks Derek's nose before running off.

A soft, saddened whine escapes Derek, but he only allows himself a moment before he obeys the call.

Talia is standing in human form at the edge of the yard when Derek returns. Her face is etched with worry. Walt stands at her side.

Derek sucks in a sharp breath. Once he’s within a few feet of them, he lifts his chin up, baring his throat.

Talia relaxes at Derek's appearance but her tone is stern as she says, "You didn't answer your phone."

“I was shifted,” Derek murmurs. “I’m sorry.”

Talia reaches out to cup Derek's cheek. "You're okay?"

“Yeah. I’m good.” Derek leans into the touch, flashing his eyes as a sign of respect.

Talia matches it with her own red eyes.

Walt slaps Derek's shoulder. "See, Tal, no reason to worry. He just lost track of time, right?"

Talia huffs but her lips pull up the smallest bit. "You were just as worried when he didn't come home for lunch."

“I’m sorry,” Derek says again, biting his lip. “Did you howl before you got really worried? I-I tried to get back fast once I heard it--”

"It's okay," Walt assures him.

Talia tilts her head. "Were you with the fox again?"

“Yes, ma’am,” Derek murmurs.

Talia sighs. "I worry about this shifter being a bad influence. Did you get his name?" Derek winces. “No, ma’am. He didn’t shift back this time. But he seems very…sweet.”

Talia pets over his hair. "Go ahead and get washed up for dinner. You must be hungry. Did you finish your pasta?"

“No, ma’am,” Derek says, barely audible.

Talia kisses Derek's temple. "It's okay. You don't have to be upset."

“He seemed hungry,” Derek says quietly.

Walt frowns. "Did he need food? You could have brought him home for dinner."

“I sort of tried to ask about it, but...when he heard the howl, he took off.” Derek shrugs. “Maybe he’s scared.”

"Maybe." Talia leads Derek inside.

After getting washed up, Derek helps Walt finish preparing the meal and sets the table.

Talia keeps casting concerned glances at Derek throughout the meal.

"So, you found him," Laura comments. "Did you ask him out?"

Derek’s face goes splotchy and pink.

"Leave your brother alone," Talia warns her.

"I think it's good you made a friend, Der," Cora says as she helps herself to a second serving of food.

“Yeah. Kinda different for me,” Derek says, genuine. He pushes his food around on his plate.

Walt's brow furrows. "Is there something wrong with the food?"

“No, no.” Derek takes a bite, looking back up at Walt as he swallows it down.

Walt squeezes his shoulder. "I think there will be leftovers if you want to take some for your friend."

"Walt," Talia says. "It's getting late."

“Yes, ma’am. It can wait.”

After dinner, Laura pulls Derek aside into her room. "I can tell you how to sneak out if you want."

“They were pretty worried about me,” Derek says, putting his hands in his pockets.

"But this is so romantic. You need to at least get his name!"

Derek smiles a little despite himself. "You really think I should?"

"Yes!" Laura shakes his shoulders gently. "You almost never make connections with people."

Derek's smile falters.

Laura bites her own lip. "Sorry, I didn't mean it to sound like a bad thing. It's really not! I just think if you're happy with him, you should pursue that."

"But what if it's..." Derek swallows, looking down at his shoes. "He didn't want to shift back with me there. He only did it the first time 'cause he was scared of me, didn't know what I was gonna do, at first. What if that's all it is, a fox and a wolf in the woods?"

Laura wraps her arms around him. "Did you ask him to change back? Maybe try talking to him instead of just playing."

"Maybe," Derek murmurs.

Laura pulls back. "If you don't want to, I won't push you into it. I just want you to be happy."

Derek nods. "I know."

Laura points to her window. "Go out my window if you want to try. Your room is too close to Mom and Dad's. If their window is open, they might hear you drop down."

Derek huffs a laugh. "Got it."

Laura winks at him. "I'm going to go watch a movie with Cora."

"'Night." Derek goes to his bedroom.

Talia and Walt both check in before they head to bed.

Derek sits cross-legged on his bed, going over sketches in pen.

Around midnight comes a soft tapping on his window.

Goosebumps rise on Derek’s skin. He drops his sketchbook and leans over to open the window, listening for any sign of his parents rousing as the wind moves through his room, sweeping up his papers.

The same young man from the woods tumbles through Derek's window, this time fully dressed in the rumpled clothes from the woods.

“Fox,” Derek blurts out, because he doesn’t know him by any other name.

The boy raises an eyebrow. "Stiles." “ Stiles,” Derek breathes out, slowly, testing the sound of it.

Stiles nods. "I waited. You didn't come back."

“I couldn’t come back.” Derek’s brow furrows in confusion. “My alpha called me.”

"Oh." Stiles shrugs, as if he doesn't quite know the weight of this. "Do you want to play now?"

“Um.” Derek shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “Well, are you hungry? I’m a little hungry.”

"I could eat," Stiles admits. "What do you have?"

“Lots of stuff. My dad’s a chef, so we always have plenty.” Derek points to the door. “Want to?”

Stiles hesitates. "What about the others. Four others, right? I caught five scents total."

“That’s my dad, my mom--she’s the alpha--my older sister and my younger sister. But nobody’ll mind,” Derek rushes to add. “Promise.”

Stiles squirms. "They're all wolves?"

Derek’s eyes tighten, a small, nearly unnoticeable flinch, as if Stiles had pulled back to throw a punch. “They’re my family,” he murmurs.

"Okay." Stiles nods. "If you think they won't mind. Most wolves, they don't like foxes, it seems."

“Most people don’t like wolves,” Derek says simply.

Stiles scuffs his shoe along the floor. "They make you leave," he says in a small voice.

“You don’t have...?”

"I have someone," Stiles rushes out. "I have my dad."

“Oh.” Derek relaxes a little. “Is he hungry, too?” His eyes go wide, blood rushing to his face. “I-I mean...would he want to join us, or, or--is he a fox? Not that it matters if he’s--um.”

"He's not," Stiles says. He inches back towards the window. "He's human. And he's fine. I'm fine."

“Okay.” Derek clasps his hands in front of him to keep from trying to cover his blushing face. “Sorry.”

"I should go," Stiles says. He casts a glance at Derek's sketchbook. "You were busy."

Derek bites his lip and drops into a sitting position on his bed. “Okay,” he murmurs.

Stiles hesitates at the window.

“Sorry,” Derek says again, numbly picking up his sketchbook just to have something to do with his hands. He doesn’t actually open it, just turns it over on his lap, ducking his head so that Stiles can’t see his face.

The sound of a sneaker being kicked off draws Derek's attention as Stiles starts to undress. “What are you doing?” Derek squeaks out.

Stiles shifts. Once he's a fox, he jumps up onto Derek's bed.

“O-okay.” Derek lifts his hand, letting it hover over the fox’s head.

The fox pushes against Derek's hand. Derek’s muscles relax a little as he pets over the fox’s soft fur. The fox paws at Derek's legs like a cat settling in.

With a chuckle, Derek focuses on the fox, scratching behind his ears, rubbing his belly, running a thumb over the fine little hairs above his eyes. The fox's eyes grow heavy until he finally nods off, curled up against Derek.

Though he doesn’t remember the moment it happens, Derek falls asleep easily, slumping down to the bed like a puppet with cut strings.

When Derek stirs the next morning, he wakes to a very human, very naked Stiles sleeping against him.

Derek slaps his hand over his own mouth to keep from yelling. Hands shaking, he grabs an extra blanket from the foot of the bed and drapes it delicately over Stiles’s body.

Stiles nuzzles against the pillow.

There's a knock at the door.

Derek catches himself at just the last moment from clapping his hands over Stiles’s ears to keep the noise from rousing him. He swallows thickly, blushing to the tips of his ears.

"Derek, Dad wants you to know breakfast is almost ready!" Cora calls through the door.

“I have a guest,” Derek says, voice comically high-pitched.

The door cracks open enough for Cora to stick her head in. "What?"

Derek looks up at her, expression pleading.

Cora's eyes go wide. "Oh, my God," she mouths. She gestures for Derek to come out into the hallway.

Scowling, Derek gestures to Stiles, still sleeping soundly half-on top of him.

Cora rolls her eyes and closes the door. A moment later Derek's phone vibrates with a text.

He’s careful not to jostle Stiles as he checks it.

Cora to Derek: Omg!!!! Who is it??? I can't see his face! I never thought you had it in you! Scandalous. Derek: WE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING. He’s the one I told you guys about. He came in last night and shifted. I was going to get us some food, but he fell asleep, and then I fell asleep, and THAT’S IT. Cora: likely story. 👉👌👬❤️❤️❤️ Derek: 😡 Cora: How am I supposed to cover for you? I can't exactly lie to them. Derek: Tell them the truth. Just leave out the naked part! Please Cora: Okay. I'm going to eat all your pancakes. Derek: Save enough for Stiles Cora: Stiles?? That's who it is??? You know who he is, right? Derek: ...no? Cora: That's the sheriff's son you're in bed with. Naked. Derek: Oh my God. Is he Derek: ! Derek: Please say I'm not committing a crime right now Cora: No crime. He's 18. It's legal.

A pause this time.

Derek: You gave me a heart attack, Cor Cora: Sorry! I just thought you should know.

Stiles snuffles against Derek. "Your pulse started racing. Calm down," he mumbles, still partially asleep.

"Okay," Derek whispers, adjusting the blanket so that it covers more of Stiles's body.

Stiles nudges his face to hide under Derek's arm as he falls back asleep.

Derek stays perfectly still for fear of waking him. His phone goes off with another text.

Talia to Derek: I would like to meet your guest before he leaves. Derek: Yes ma'am

After twenty minutes, Derek starts to hear another vibrating phone and realizes it belongs to Stiles, still tucked away in his pants pocket on the floor.

Derek chews his lip before gently shaking Stiles's shoulder.

Stiles jerks awake. "Wha?"

"Your phone," Derek whispers.

Stiles rubs at his eyes. He falls out of bed and crawls over to grab his phone. He types out a text before standing up and stretching, still nude.

Derek averts his eyes, cheeks blazing red.

"Oh." Stiles looks down. "Sorry. Must have shifted in my sleep." He pulls on his clothes.

"There's breakfast," Derek says in a small voice.

"Cool." Stiles runs a hand through his hair. "You okay?"

Derek gives a jerky nod. "Just--didn't want to, um..."

Stiles looks down. "You've already seen me naked," he says, confused.

"Th-that's not an open invitation. I didn't want to, you know--take advantage. You shifted in your sleep this time. It was an accident, so."

Stiles shrugs. "I'm not embarrassed."

"Okay. Yeah, sorry, I didn't--of course." Derek gets to his feet. "There's pancakes downstairs." He heads to the door.

"Awesome." Stiles follows Derek out.

Derek leads the way down to the dining room.

The family is all sitting at the table still. Cora smirks at Stiles. Laura gives Derek a thumbs up.

Derek clears his throat. "This is Stiles. Stiles, this is my mother and alpha, Talia. My father, Walt. And my sisters, Laura and Cora."

"Hi." Stiles gives a small wave as he sits down.

Talia purses her lips.

Derek takes his own seat, watching his mother nervously.

"When did your friend arrive?" Talia asks Derek.

"Last night. He wanted to go out to the woods again, but we ended up just falling asleep," Derek says. "Just falling asleep."

"I see." Talia clears her throat. "We prefer Derek to only go out shifted at night with the pack, Stiles."

Stiles fidgets in his chair. "Oh."

"I'll get you some food," Derek rushes out, jumping up to go into the kitchen.

Stiles gets up to follow him. "Maybe I should go," he says when he gets into the kitchen. "I don't need breakfast."

Derek stills, eyes on his shoes. "They're protective. The way people are about wolves...there’s so much fear and hatred. We're strong, but that doesn't mean we aren't vulnerable without our pack there to protect us."

Stiles rocks on his heels. "I don't really know anything about packs."

"It's a connection," Derek says softly, hand coming up to rest on his own chest without realizing it. "It's always there. It pulls at you, like the moon pulls the water. That's where we got it from." He lets out a self-conscious laugh. "That's what my grandmother says, anyway."

Stiles gives him a small smile. "That's cute."

Derek leans back against the counter, loosening up the more Stiles does.

Stiles eyes a stack of pancakes.

Laura enters. "Mom wanted to see if you needed additional help," she says with a pointed look.

Derek shakes his head roughly. “Got it.” He stacks pancakes on a plate and hands it to Stiles.

"Thanks." Stiles pours a lake of syrup on the pancakes before he carries the plate back out to the table.

“You guys are freaking him out!” Derek whispers to Laura, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Sorry!" Laura whispers back. "It's weird! Cora came down and said you had a guy in your bed."

“Nothing happened! Nothing at all. Sleeping happened, actual sleeping.”

Laura laughs. "You're so innocent!" She gestures back to the dining room. "We should get back out there before Mom interrogates him."

Derek’s eyes go huge. He nods vigorously and goes back into the dining room empty-handed.

Walt frowns. "Aren't you going to eat?"

“I’m good,” Derek says.

“So, Stiles--tell us about coming in through Derek’s bedroom window last night,” Talia says, pouring honey over her pancakes.

Stiles takes a huge bite of pancake. Talking through the barely chewed food, he says, "I thought he might want to go for a run, and I didn't want to bother anyone else," he says easily.

“We’re pleased to meet you, but there are rules in this house, and I expect them to be followed, even by guests.”

Stiles swallows and puts down his fork. "Like what?"

“You will receive my permission before spending time with Derek after dark or in his bedroom,” Talia says sharply.

Stiles's jaw clenches. He nods. "Got it." He pushes his plate over to Derek. "Have mine. I need to get home. My dad is wondering where I am." He stands. "Thanks for having me," he tells the others.

Derek looks gutted.

Stiles hurries out the door with his hands shoved in his pockets.

Talia sighs. "It wasn't an unreasonable request."

"I know," Derek says quietly, sliding Stiles's plate to the middle of the table. "I'm still tired. May I go back to bed for a little while?"

Talia reaches out a hand for Derek. "Sweetheart, of course I want you to be happy. You know that. I'd like for you to find a nice person that is good for you."

"I know." Derek ducks down under her hand so that it rests lightly on the top of his head.

Talia strokes over Derek's hair. "You may go back to sleep if you wish. Do you have class today?"

“Yes, ma’am,” Derek says. “This afternoon.”

Talia smiles at him. "Good. That will take your mind off everything. Go ahead and rest some more, then you can eat something before you go." “ Yes, ma’am.” Derek flashes his eyes and bows his head before going upstairs.

When Derek reaches his bed, he sees a note scrawled out hastily on a blank sheet of his sketchbook.

It reads: Meet me at 2pm where you first caught me. - S

[tefanfics]

Changes

Chapter 60

The light outside the windows was bright. The sun hit the white snow on the ground, causing the perfect sparkle. I sat comfortably on the sofa with a hot cup of tea nestled in my hands while Alexander sat in his play pin, surrounded by toys. The television was on but mostly for background noise. I was having a hard time paying attention to anything but my sweet boy, though occasionally I stole glances at the Christmas tree.

The tree was huge- bigger than anyone I had ever owned and it was real, which was also new to me. The smell of pine filled the living room and kitchen constantly and I had no complaints.

I leaned further back into the couch, taking a deep breath as I shut my eyes for just a moment. This year had gone so fast. Alexander had been born in May and I was having a hard time believing that almost seven months had passed already.

My eyes shot open as my phone began to ring. I smiled as I saw the picture on the screen, answering the FaceTime call immediately.

“Hello, handsome,” I answered.

“Hey, babe,” Taron greeted. He offered a grin of his own. “How’s my lovely wife?”

“Exhausted but good.” My eyes shifted from the screen, checking on Alexander.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Taron questioned. He tried to hide the concern but there was no use. I recognized it immediately.

“Couple hours,” I said sheepishly. “I napped when Alex did though.”

Taron sighed. “You need sleep, Rose. I know it’s a struggle sometimes but you need it.”

At Taron’s words, Alexander began to babble. He turned himself around, reaching for me. I sat the phone down and stood up, pulling Alexander from the pin and putting him on my lap. I held up the phone again and both boys smiled.

“There he is!” Taron exclaimed. “Are you taking care of your mummy?” Alexander squealed, revealing a few teeth. The two went back and forth though I began to zone out.

“Babe. Babe? Rose?”

“Huh?” I blinked furiously and focused on my phone. “Sorry. Just sort of… yeah…”

Taron frowned. “It’s okay. Promise me you’ll try and sleep tonight.”

I nodded in agreement. “Okay.” Alexander began to squirm so I put him back in his play pin, focusing on him rather than my phone. “Three more sleeps, right?”

Taron stayed quiet. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him shifting in his seat.

“T… Only three more sleeps until Christmas Eve. You’ll be home on Christmas Eve, right?” I asked as I looked at him again. The look on his face said everything. “Babe, it’s his first Christmas… You can’t miss it.”

“I want to be there. I want to celebrate Christmas with you both,” he started. “One of the director’s assistants said they had my ticket and today I found out it had been double-booked. I’ve been looking all day to try and find a flight that will put me home Christmas Eve but every airline is booked.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes as he shook his head. “I know I can be home on the 26th, first thing in the morning!”

“That’s the day after Christmas, T.”

“I know… I’m so sorry. I’m trying to find another way, I promise you I am.”

My shoulders dropped, my heart sank and I looked away as I gave a little nod. “We’ll figure it out I guess,” I sighed. “I’m gonna get off here. Get us some dinner, maybe go to bed early…”

“Babe, it’s 4 in the afternoon.”

I tried to hide my disappointment but we both knew better. “Alex didn’t have his afternoon bottle so he’s probably hungry.” I was lying. I was hurt and sad but I didn’t want to make Taron feel worse about the situation.  “I’ll talk to you later. I love you.”

“I promise I won’t miss Alexander’s first Christmas, Rose. I love you too,” Taron answered, though there was confusion in his voice.

I ended the call before either of us could say anything else. I knew it wasn’t his fault but it didn’t make me any less upset.

I tossed the phone down on the couch and went to grab Alexander a bottle. I warmed it up, chewing on my lower lip as I tried to ward off my thoughts. After testing the warmth of the milk, I grabbed Alexander and pulled him to my lap again. I cuddled him close as he ate. He truly looked like Taron, especially when he smiled.

The rest of the night went smoothly. Alexander went down easy for the night and I opted for a bubble bath before I tried to sleep. I poured myself a glass of wine before running the bath water. As the tub filled, I checked my phone and read the few messages from Taron.

I’m so sorry for earlier. I’m trying to figure out how to fix this. I won’t let either of you down, I promise.

Give our boy a kiss from me. I wish I were there so I could run you a bath. I hope you can relax and get some sleep. Love you xx

I smiled softly and snapped a photo of the tub, bubbles growing as the water rose. I sent it to him, followed by a short message.

Great minds. I love you too.

Maybe I should’ve responded to the Christmas problem but I wasn’t sure what else I could say. So instead I undressed and lowered myself into the tub. I turned on Christmas music on my phone and sipped on my wine, humming along as I shut my eyes. My favorite Christmas song started to play- Please Come Home for Christmas by the Eagles. Normally I got excited to hear the song. This time… Not so much. All I could think of was Taron and the possibility that he wouldn’t be here for Alexander’s first Christmas.

I shoved the thought aside for the rest of the night and the next couple of days. It was Christmas Eve and I was doing everything that I could to keep myself and Alexander happy. He wasn’t quite old enough to understand everything but truth be told, it was more for me than him. We made cookies- well I made cookies and he ate the frosting before I had a chance to put any on the cookies. We built a gingerbread house, where Alexander ate the gingerbread man. I kept up my parents’ tradition of one gift on Christmas Eve, which were always new pajamas. I dressed our son in his Santa Claus covered pajamas and made our way to the living room.

The tree was plugged in, the multicolored lights shining brightly and showing off all the ornaments and presents sitting proudly under the tree. I sat Alexander on the ground as I grabbed all the throw pillows and sat them on the ground in front of the sofa before grabbing the copy of The Night Before Christmas. I flipped off the lights, leaving the dim lights under the cabinets in the kitchen on and lowered myself down to sit in front of the sofa. I leaned back against the pillows and pulled Alexander closer to me.

“Hi, sweet boy,” I cooed, kissing him on the top of the head. “You ready for your first time hearing this classic?” Alexander let out a little squeal, clapping his hands together. I grinned and began the story. “Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house not a creature was stirring. Not even a mouse…”

I carried on, accepting Tux at my other side and giving him scratches under his chin. Alexander barely made it through the whole story before falling asleep at my side. I laid down more, carefully cradling Alexander. I managed to pull the blanket off the sofa and over our laps as I held my boy.

I turned on Christmas music, letting it play softly as I laid there and took in the beauty of the Christmas tree. The longer I laid there, the more reluctant I was to move. I didn’t want to wake Alexander and I was growing tired myself. Finally I let myself begin to doze off.

I stirred, hearing something in the house. I checked around for Tux but he was nowhere to be seen. I assumed whatever the noise was had come from him before moving Alexander on to my chest. He stayed asleep the whole time, his pacifier in his mouth. I smoothed his hair and shut my eyes again, keeping my arms around him. I knew I needed to put Alexander in his crib but I wanted to take in as many cuddles with him as I could.

Sleep was threatening to take over again. I did my best to fight it off by focusing on everything around me. The tree, the music, the decorations in the room, Alexander snoozing… The feeling was magical but I was missing Taron more than anything. I let out a gentle sigh at the reminder that I had no clue when he’d be home. I kissed Alexander on the head again, reminding myself that I would still give him the best Christmas I could.

I heard a noise again, turning my head toward the direction of the entry way. I furrowed my brows, waiting patiently for Tux to appear on one of his late night run throughs of the house. I gave him a minute but he never came so I turned my attention back to the tree. I yawned, wondering if it was time to put Alexander and myself to bed.

“There he is!” A gentle voice came from the opening of the living room.

My head turned quickly, landing on the figure standing there. I slapped a hand to my mouth and did my best to stay quiet.

Taron shrugged off his coat and hurried to the spot beside me on the ground. He pulled the blanket over his lap and slid his arm under my neck and shoulders. He placed a kiss on my cheek and put a careful hand on Alexander’s back. He raised his phone, checking the time. “11:59, still Christmas Eve.” He smiled proudly at me.

A wave of relief ran through me. My shoulders relaxed and the breath it seemed like I was holding finally went free. “You made it,” I said quietly.

“With time to spare. Did you know that a train ride from Barcelona to London is about 12 hours?” He asked.

I shook my head, letting out a soft chuckle. “You rode a train for 12 hours?”

“I promised I wouldn’t miss his first Christmas,” Taron said, kissing my temple again and snuggling in close. The time on his phone ticked over to midnight, leaving Taron to look at me again. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

[hauntednightmarekitty]

Comic-con Gone Wrong

Summary: Alex goes to comic-con with his girlfriend and meets a cute girl dressed up as link. Or so he thinks. 

Warnings: misgendering, very very slight abuse mentions if you read into it

“Alex, come on! We’re going to be late if you don’t pick up the pace,” My girlfriend, Andrea, urged me as she pulled my arm. She was trying to get me into the comic-con faster, but I was distracted by all of the people in costumes - I think Andrea called it cosplay - and all of the crowds of people. I had never been to any sort of con even though Andrea adores them and goes constantly. I’ve been dating her for years, but I didn’t even know that she liked these things until about a year, but now I see why. There is so much and all of the colors just catch your attention, plus the people seem very friendly. 

“I’m coming, sweetheart, don’t worry so much,” I said, but she just shot me a dirty look and continued to try to drag me into the building where the con was taking place. 

Once we got in the building, I was immediately hit with a wave of stimulus. People were talking all around me, the lights were bright overhead, I could smell multiple different food vendors cooking various different kinds of food, and people shoved at me in an attempt to get by me. 

“What do you want to do first?” Andrea asked, pulling me back to the current moment. 

“I would really love something to eat.” She giggled a little then shook her head, her long red hair hitting bouncing around. She had dressed up as Poison Ivy and tried to convince me to dress up with her, but I had too much work and it was too short notice for us to be able to pull anything together. 

“You can do that, but I’m not really hungry yet. I think I’ll go and look at that DC merch booth, okay? Just meet me there when you’re done.” I flashed her a smile which made her giggle again before she turned and skipped over to the booth. 

I got into line at a booth that served various deserts shortly after. The girl in front of me was wearing a Link cosplay and looked up when she noticed me get in line. She had a nose ring and an eyebrow ring, but they, oddly enough, worked really well with the cosplay. Her fake elf ears poked out from her shoulder-length blonde hair and her eyeliner was sharp enough to cut. 

“Hey, is this your first con?” Her voice was sweet and slightly deeper, but still beautiful. 

“How did you know?” Her intuition freaked me out a bit, but she flashed me a toothy grin and offered me a hand. I took and she returned with a firm handshake that felt like we were sealing a business deal. 

“You have that look about you. Everyone does at first. I’m Max by the way.” She flashed that toothy grin once again and moved forward as the line shortened. “Did you come with anyone or have you always been into comics and such?” 

“My girlfriend made me come along, but it’s not like I mind. I usually go to superhero movies with her, so it���s not like I’m completely in the dark about this stuff.” Max kept comfortable eye contact this whole conversation up until I said the word ‘girlfriend’ when she looked away and rubbed the back of her neck. 

“That’s cool. I always wanted my boyfriend to go to this stuff with me, but he never wanted to. He didn’t like me going by myself either though, so I often didn’t even get to go.” 

“I’m guessing you’re not with him anymore since you’re here.” 

Another toothy grin. She really was cute when she smiled. “You would guess right. My friend made me dump him a little while ago. She’s actually here today, but I don’t know where she went.” Max got up on her toes and looked around for her friend, but eventually settled down and shrugged. “She likes to go off on her own, but she’s my Zelda, so our cosplays are incomplete without each other.” 

“I was going to cosplay with my girlfriend, but my work schedule got in the way, so I didn’t end up with a finished cosplay before the con. Maybe next time.” Max’s eyes, once again, darted away when I mentioned Andrea, but she recovered quickly when I talked about cosplay. 

“I can only hope that I find a boyfriend as cool as you. Maybe my expectations are too high.” 

“I don't think expectations can be too high. You have self respect and I respect that. I’m sure you’ll find a guy that will appreciate a girl as lovely as you.” Max gave me a funny look and laughed when I finished my little speech and I could feel my ego deflate slightly. She recovered quickly though and noticed that she hurt my feelings a little. 

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, it just feels so impossible.” Max was, finally, next in line and she ordered something that looked like something that Andrea would never eat and instead she’d just complain about the carbs in it and throw it away if I bought it for her. However, Max seemed comfortable in herself and comfortable with the extra calories in what she’s eating. 

When I got up to the booth I ordered the same thing as Max and stepped out of the walkway with her in order to talk a little more. 

“You should follow me on Instagram,” she said as she pulled her phone out of her pocket. “I do cosplays more often than just at cons, so you could see some of that on there.” 

I pulled my phone out as well and handed it to her, so she could follow herself on my Instagram. She handed it back to me with a big smile when she was finished and pulled out her own phone to follow me. It was then that I saw Andrea coming over and I waved her over to Max and I.

“Alex,” she said, looking at Max, “did you make a new friend? Introduce me.” 

“Andrea, this is Max.” Max held out her hand and Andrea shook it while regarding her. She must’ve passed whatever test Andrea had for her because Andrea turned to me and smiled. 

“I should probably go find my friend, she just texted me asking where I am,” Max held up her phone almost as if she was showing proof that she wasn’t lying. “It was nice to meet you though, I hope you message me on Instagram sometime.” I waved and she disappeared into the crowd, looking down at her phone as she walked. 

“I think you should message Max sometime, it’d be nice for you to have more friends who aren’t overgrown frat boys.” 

“You’re ok with me talking to a single girl that I just met? Is this the Andrea that I know?” I pressed a hand to her forehead, but she just pushed my hand away and gave me an odd look. 

“What do you mean? Max was obviously a guy. Even with makeup he couldn’t completely hide his jawline. Plus most girls love showing off their boobs in link cosplay and he was flat chested. And I’m not that controlling, I just didn’t like Adeline because she was constantly flirting with you.” Andrea crossed her arms and stuck out her bottom lip like a little kid, but I was still stuck on the fact that the girl that I was just talking to wasn't actually a girl at all. 

“But she said that she had a boyfriend.” 

“Gay people exist, Alex.” Andrea’s tone of voice was one that you may use on a child, not on your boyfriend and that’s how I knew that she thought I was an idiot. Maybe I was an idiot, but I was not ready to let this go. 

“I called her a girl and she didn’t correct me, she just giggled.” 

“I’m sure he felt awkward about you calling him a girl and didn’t want to embarrass you or himself, so he just stayed quiet about it. I know I’d stay quiet if someone called me a guy.” 

“You wouldn’t do that, you’re just trying to prove your point. You’re too proud to let someone call you a guy.” 

“I cosplayed as Marshalee last summer and posted pictures on my Instagram and a few people thought I was a boy, but I decided that it was too much trouble to correct them, so I just let it go. A lot of cosplayers do that, especially if you’re cosplaying as the opposite gender.” 

“It still makes no sense that she wouldn’t correct me.” 

“You got her Insta, right?” I nodded and Andrea took my phone from me. “Let’s check his bio. I know his type and they usually put their pronouns in their bio.” She swiped at my phone for a few unbearable moments before showing me my phone. 

He/him/his

The words were at the end of his bio and they were the words that I least wanted to see at that moment. I didn’t want Andrea to be right, and I didn’t want to be dumb, but she was right and I was dumb to assume. 

[melodious-madrigals]

we should just kiss (like real people do)

hi @misha-winchester, i am your wondertrev secret santa! i hope you had a lovely christmas season/whatever holidays you may celebrate, and i hope you have a very happy new year.

Pairing: Diana Prince/Steve Trevor Words: 8′609 Rating: T (swearing) AO3 tags: Modern Setting/No Powers, co-workers, Fake Dating, ‘and there was only one bed’, Hallmark-movie-esque midsunderstandings, Happy Ending Summary: Etta just invited Steve’s significant other along on their group holiday vacation. The only problem? He made said significant other up to get out of a series of set-ups six months ago, and forgot to set the record straight. Enter Diana, his newest co-worker and real-life crush, who doesn’t have any holiday plans and is somehow offering to help him out.

i have been derelict for too long, but no more! i’m so sorry that it took me so long, and i hope you enjoy this trope-packed fic, because i couldn’t decide on just one, and then it sort of ballooned!

Read it on [AO3] or below the cut.

***

“Shit.” Steve’s head thunks against his desk.

“Problem?”

He looks up to find Diana Prince, the newest legal consultant at their NGO standing in his office door. She’s intimidating and smart and beautiful and possibly also the kindest person he’s ever met, and even though they’re friendly, she’s the last person to whom he wants to admit what’s wrong. But she’s also looking at him with such genuine concern that he spills his guts anyways.

“The last time my friend Etta tried to set me up with someone, I told her I was already dating someone, and now she wants me to bring them on our annual holiday trip to one of our friend’s cabin.” Steve kneads the space between his eyebrows, trying to get rid of the tension headache that’s starting to form.

Diana tilts her head, confused. “That’s kind of her.”

“I’m not actually dating anyone,” Steve clarifies. “I just said it to get her off my back. And now I have to either say I lied—which will not go over well for obvious reasons—or say that I broke up with the person and get all sorts of ‘holiday pity’.”

Diana leans elegantly against his doorframe. “People go their separate ways all the time, no? Besides, maybe it’s a bit soon for a weekend away with friends.”

Steve winces. “It’s possible that I told her this almost six months ago and never corrected the record.”

“Ah,” says Diana, taking the liberty of moving into his office and sitting down across from him. “So it’s rather a large deception then.”

“I didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand? It was just so nice to not have my friends nagging me about my dating life. They’re well intentioned but a little too insistent sometimes.”

“Okay, so telling them is out of the question,” Diana says, very seriously. And—uh-oh, she’s going into problem-solving mode. He’s absolutely mortified that his very capable and very attractive co-worker is taking time to talk with him about this when she’s a literal international human rights lawyer and university lecturer with plenty of other things to be doing. “Hmm. Isn’t that what Craigslist is for?”

“Ha,” says Steve. “I’m never going to be able to get someone to come with me over Christmas on such short notice.”

“Not everyone has plans on Christmas,” Diana argues.

“Yeah, I get that; I’m not even Christian,” says Steve. “But a lot of people still go home because it’s a long holiday.”

“I’m not Christian either and I don’t have any family here in the States. We exist,” Diana jokes.

“Want to be my fake date, then?” The words leave Steve’s mouth before his brain can catch up and tell him what a massively stupid idea that would be, to fake date his real crush, for lack of a better word.

“Yes, alright: if you can’t find someone on Craigslist, I’ll do it,” says Diana, and then before Steve can process: “Anyways, I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time. I just dropped by to give you a hard copy of my revisions. She hands him the legal brief, shoots him a quick smile, and saunters out of his office, apparently unaware of the dazed state she’s left him in.

I’ll do it? Is she serious? For a second, Steve’s mind runs away from him before he shuts it down. She was just being polite; he’s certain of it. There’s no way she wants to give up her days off to go to a cabin in the middle of nowhere with people she doesn’t even know.

Steve reluctantly writes up a quick wanted ad on Craigslist and hits post before he can overthink it. He can definitely do a fake date for the holidays, right? That’s something normal people do.

**

Three days later, he’s gotten a dozen responses to the Craigslist ad, but most of them are variants of either “is this some weird sex thing?” or “can you please post this story on reddit’s r/relationships with an update on how it went because i’m 2000 miles away but very invested in this”. None of them are a real live person that he can take on the trip to meet his friends.

His brain has also been playing Diana’s I’ll do it on repeat pretty much constantly, so on Tuesday evening, after most people have already gone home for the night, he steals himself and wanders down to Diana’s office. If she’s in, he’ll ask. If she’s gone, it’s a sign, and he won’t bring it up.

She’s still there, illuminated only by the glow of her computer and a small desk lamp—the overhead light is turned off and her coat is on, like maybe she was in the process of leaving and then went back to her desk to dash off one email that turned into several.

He taps on the doorframe.

“Steve!” she says, smiling when she sees him. “What a pleasant surprise! Have a seat, I’m just finishing something up. It’ll only be a moment.”  

He smiles nervously and takes one of the chairs opposite her desk, patiently silent as she taps away at her computer.

Three minutes later, she folds her laptop closed and turns the weight of her attention to him.

“Thank you for being patient. What can I do for you?”

“I just—were you serious?”

“Hmm?”

“The other day—were you serious about being my fake date if I couldn’t find someone on Craigslist?”

“I—yes, I was.”

“Wait, really?”  

She shrugs elegantly. “I have no holiday plans.”

“You’re sure.”

She tosses him an amused expression. “I am. It’ll be nice to meet some new people.”

“Right. Well. Can I, uh, buy you dinner or something while we go over the details?”

Diana considers him for a moment. “How does Thai takeout at my place sound?”

“Like a fantastic idea.”

**

On Friday, Steve is extremely antsy. He’s taken a half day, and he and Diana are driving up to Charlie’s cabin after her lecture lets out.

She’s in a good mood when he picks her up, and the ensuing discussion crosses a half a dozen different topics. He doesn’t think they’ve ever had a boring conversation, and they’re more than halfway there before Steve remembers that he wanted to run through the basics of their fake-dating mandate again.

“I’ve never really been much for PDA,” he says, “so they won’t be surprised if we’re not particularly demonstrative. A little hand-holding and casual touching here and there and we’ll be fine.”

“Yes,” replies Diana, amused rather than annoyed. “You mentioned this the other day.”

“Did I? I guess I’m just nervous.” He’s already feeling a little guilty about lying to his friends (again), and he’s suddenly wondering if he’s capable of pulling it off.

“They asked me to invite you—er, my significant other—to a dinner in October. I don’t think it’ll come up, but—”

“I spent a week of October in Europe, and have plenty of university functions to attend,” Diana reassures him. “Saying I was busy that night probably isn’t even a lie, and besides, that was months ago. Take a breath; this will be okay.”

“I’m just rethinking this,” huffs Steve.

“You’re welcome to tell them I’m just a friend that needed a place to stay for the holidays,” Diana offers calmly.

“No. No, I’m committed to the lie now.”

“Okay. Then let’s do this. I’m here for you, you know.”

“Yeah,” says Steve, glancing over at her in the passenger seat before turning his attention back to the road. “Thanks.”

**

They’re the last ones to arrive to the cabin, because everyone else was able to take the full day off, so they walk into a full house.

“Oh, it’s so lovely to finally meet you!” exclaims Etta, pulling Diana into a hug before they’ve barely gotten in the door.

“You must be Etta,” Diana says, once she’s been let go. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Hey, Etta,” Steve says, pulling her in for his own hug.

“Everyone else is in the living room.”

They make their way down the hall, towards the sound of all the voices.

“Steve!” yells Sameer from across the room when they round the corner. A cheer goes up—it’s possible that some of them have already had a glass or two of wine—and Steve pulls Diana forward to introduce her.

“Everyone, this is Diana. Diana, this is Napi, Charlie, Etta’s wife Adrienne, Sameer, and Sameer’s fiancée Noor.”

“It’s so lovely to meet all of you,” says Diana, moving forward to shake hands and give hugs, along with Steve.

“You’ll want to drop off your luggage in your room, I’m sure,” Etta declares forcefully, shooing them back out of the room once they’re done with the greetings.

“Alright, alright, we’re going,” acquiesces Steve.

“Well, dinner will be done shortly, and I’m sure you’re hungry. Best get settled in before you go into a food coma.”

“Stop making sense,” he snarks, but they all know he’s joking.

“Second door on the left!” calls Etta after him, as they traipse up the stairs. There’s a niggling in his brain about this room, because he’s been in it once and it’s—

“Shit,” says Steve under his breath upon entering the room, because it’s one of the rooms with a single queen bed instead of two twins.

“Is there something wrong with the room?” asks Diana, a step behind him. “I’m sure we can fix it, whatever it is.”

“No, it’s just—I didn’t even think about this,” says Steve, gesturing at the bed. “Usually when I come, I’m in a different room with Charlie or Napi.”

Diana surveys the space in front of them. “You mean the bed?” Her nose wrinkles. “Are you really that uncomfortable sharing?”

“I—no, of course I’m not. I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Well then, that’s settled. I am not uncomfortable. Which side do you prefer?”

Of course it’s not a big deal. Right. He’s making too much out of this because he might—possibly—have feelings. But for Diana, it’s just two adults sharing a bed, which is perfectly natural. But now she’s looking at him expectantly, which makes him realize—“Uh, left, I guess.”

The way she smiles, he gets the distinct impression that his answer has pleased her, that he’s chosen correctly, if such a thing is possible. (He thinks, stupidly, that he would do quite a lot to chase that smile.)

Meanwhile, Diana drops her duffel on the right side of the bed.

“Do you mind if I change quickly before dinner?”

“Yeah, no, of course. I’ll just be downstairs.”

Steve heads back downstairs and pauses in the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face.

He can definitely share a bed with Diana. They’re adults. It’s not strange, and it’s not romantic. It’s just two people sharing a sleeping space because there are not enough beds.

He reenters the living room to find Charlie and Sameer in the middle of an argument about who’s the better cross-country skier while Noor, Adrienne, and Etta chat over a cup of tea and Napi watches over several pots in the kitchen.

“The answer, of course, is neither of you. Noor is the best skier here.”

Charlie squawks indignantly, and Sameer laughs. “That she is.”

“Can someone set the table?” asks Napi. “Dinner is about to be ready.”

Steve, as the closest one to the kitchen, pulls out the plates and silverware and starts setting up the table, while the others slowly drift towards the dining area.

And then there’s a gentle pressure on his elbow. “Can I help with anything?” asks Diana, softly, and when he turns, he feels the air knocked out of him.

Diana is all comfort, in simple black leggings and a chunky winter sweater instead of her usual pristine business wear, but she’s all the more beautiful for the casualness. Her face, too, is wiped clean of standard makeup and her hair is down, and he realizes that she has freckles. They’re faint, just the slightest smattering over her nose and cheeks, but Steve is close enough to see them, and for a second he wants to touch them, trace them into constellations.

Then he realizes he’s staring and jumps a little, moving to rearrange the plate in front of him.  

“You could, uh, fold the napkins, I guess? There isn’t really a whole lot to do.”

They work in tandem as the rest of the crew files in, loud and boisterous as they dish out their meals.

“So, Diana,” says Etta, once everyone is settled in their seats, “tell us all about yourself! Steve’s been so tight-lipped about you that I was starting to think you didn’t exist.”

Steve almost chokes on his wine, but Diana doesn’t so much as flinch, simply smiling at Etta and saying, “Well, I’m not sure what you’d like to know, but I’m originally from one of the Grecian islands and I completed my studies in the UK. Right now, I’m splitting my time between the US and the Netherlands.”

“Oh, what part of the Netherlands?” asks Noor. “Sameer and I both lived there, at different points!”

“Just the Hague, I’m afraid,” says Diana ruefully, because it’s not known for its charms.

“Diana’s on a prosecutorial team at the International Criminal Court,” Steve clarifies, which prompts a number of impressed looks all around the table.

“We’re in between cases right now,” Diana says, “and we’re only just starting to file some pre-trial motions for the next thing on our docket, so I took a position as a guest lecturer here in the States. A friend of mine convinced me to take the consulting position at the ARGUS Foundation since it’s not full-time.” When Diana pauses, she notices a number of raised eyebrows around the table. “I think the expression in English is ‘I wear a lot of hats’,” she jokes.

“She’s a wonder,” interjects Steve easily, and he doesn’t even have to work at the soft look that he gives her. (He’ll interrogate the fact that it’s just how he looks at her later, when he’s alone and can have a nice little panic about it.)

“I just like to have purpose,” says Diana, and then Noor asks her about her last case, and the conversation takes on a life of its own.

Diana, as he suspected, gets on well with his friends, fitting in as though she’s known them years instead of hours, and they migrate into the living room after dinner, talking and laughing into the late hours of the evening.

“They are all lovely,” Diana tells him the moment the door to their room has closed behind them.

“They’re okay,” says Steve, but his face is pulled up in a smile, and Diana just laughs. He’s spent all evening getting to look at her whenever he wants, and even though they’re alone, even though there’s no need for his eyes to keep finding her, he doesn’t want to pull them away.

“They’re all so interesting!” Diana exclaims. “Sameer and I talked about linguistics for a full half an hour, and Etta and Adrienne’s stories are incredible!”

That makes him laugh. “Yeah, Etta’s something else.”

They talk a little more as they get ready for bed, and finally there’s nothing more to do but turn out the light and get under the covers. Steve’s tired enough that he thinks he has a decent shot at falling asleep, but he feels a little awkward as they both shift carefully on their respective sides.

“Hey,” he whispers into the deepness of the silky black night. “Thank you again for being here.”

“It is my pleasure.”

He listens to Diana’s breathing quickly even out, and though it takes him a little longer, he too falls asleep without too much trouble, despite her nearness.

**

To his great relief, or maybe to his great disappointment, they wake up in almost the exact same positions that they fell asleep in, on completely opposite sides of the bed.

“Good morning,” says Diana softly, hair slightly mussed and eyes still a little heavy with sleep, and frankly Steve’s not sure how he’s going to make it through the rest of the trip, because he likes her so much and also doesn’t want to impose his feelings.

“Good morning. I hope you’re ready for another insane day.”

“Once I’ve had some coffee, absolutely.”

“Well then,” says Steve, “let’s get you some coffee.”

Coffee is followed by breakfast, which is chaotic because everyone is up at slightly different times and traditionally, they fend for themselves for breakfast which means in practice that half a dozen people end up doing things in the kitchen at the same time.

The rest of the day is no calmer, as they all pack themselves up and spill outside for a snowy hike that lasts most of the afternoon. Diana, Etta, and Napi establish themselves as the fastest hikers early on, and they sort of naturally split into two groups. The whole group meets back up at one of the lookout points, where the faster group has lingered to let the rest catch up.

Steve uses the viewpoint to check in with Diana. “You doing okay?”

When she turns to him, her cheeks are rosy with exertion, her breath is coming out in silvery puffs in the cold air, and her eyes are dancing. “Excellent, you?”

“Really good.” They take in the snowy view in front of them. “Hey, I didn’t mean to leave you on your own,” Steve says, suddenly feeling a little awkward.

Diana snorts. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I was the one that walked ahead of you. If I’d been bothered, I wouldn’t have split off with Napi and Etta.”

“Right, of course.” He feels a bit stupid; she’s never struck him as the type to do something she really didn’t want to.

“We should probably walk back together though. For appearances.” She winks at him, and before he can respond, Noor is at his elbow.

“Can I take a picture for you two?”

“That would be great,” says Diana, handing Noor her phone as she slips her arm around his waist.

Pictures are snapped, and then they’re headed back down the trail. Steve ends up so engrossed in his conversation with Diana that the rest of the group fades away, and on the last straightway after they’ve descended, Diana reaches out and casually links their hands. Even through their gloves, it’s a giddy feeling.

**

That night after dinner, Steve steps outside for a moment of respite from the noisiness of the cabin. He breathes deeply, and stares at the patch of sky not covered in clouds, picking out a familiar constellation.

“Diana’s wonderful.”

Steve looks up from where he was leaning against the balcony railing to find that Etta has joined him outside.

“Yeah, she’s pretty great,” Steve agrees.

“I’m sorry you didn’t feel comfortable introducing us earlier,” says Etta so sincerely that Steve feels a squirming guilt welling up. “But if this was the pace you needed to go to be sure of your relationship, to make it solid and lasting, I’m glad you took the space to do so.”

“Right,” Steve echoes.

“Seriously, Steve,” says Etta, touching his arm, so that he’s almost forced to look at her. “You and Diana are so well-suited, and she’s good for you—I’ve never seen you like this.”

“What’s this?”

Etta contemplates him a moment. “You’re happy,” she says simply, and Steve rolls his eyes, because if Etta thinks just being in a relationship equates to—“but it’s not just that. You’re…still. Calm. You’ve usually got this frenetic, discontented energy, and with Diana it’s quieted.”  

It makes Steve pause, but before he can say anything—refute her or maybe, heaven forbid, agree with her—Diana herself is bursting onto the balcony.

“There you are!” she exclaims, wrapping her arms around him from the back, and fuck, maybe it is his instinct to relax in the split second before he remembers that this is all an act. “Charlie says we’re roasting marshmallows over the fire, and I’m told that you have the technique perfected,” she says, with all the exuberant glee of a child.

Steve pointedly ignores the knowing, indulgent look on Etta’s face as he turns in Diana’s arms to face her, a small but unquashable smile on his face. “That’s a classic holiday tradition for us—I was wondering when Charlie was going to break them out. Have you ever had a s’more?”

“No, but I’m looking forward to it!”

“Well, then we can’t let Sameer or Etta roast yours; they always burn them.”

“It’s meant to be eaten with a little char,” says Etta.

“Absolutely not!” Steve doesn’t have time to say any more, because Diana has laced her hand in his and his gently tugging him toward the interior.

“Right. This is an American classic and you’re gonna love it.”

After making her the perfect marshmallow—gold and toasty, and soft all the way through without being burned—the rest of the night is spent roasting increasingly silly things over the coals and drinking copious amounts of hot chocolate and eggnog that are optionally spiked, utterly warm and cozy.

“Tell me something about yourself,” requests Diana, when they’re tucked into bed later, still on their own sides but far closer together than they were the night before.

“Like what?”

“Something—well, not something secret, if you don’t want to. But something that most people probably don’t know.”

Steve considers her for a moment, shifting so that he’s facing her, the moon providing just enough light that he can see the contours of her face. “I wanted to be a pilot.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I wanted to be a fighter pilot.”

Diana grins. “I can see that. What stopped you?”

“I decided I wouldn’t really be helping people, and helping people is what I wanted to do. What about you?”  

“What did I want to be?”

“No, just—anything.”

“Hmm,” says Diana. “My favorite childhood memories are those of my aunt, Antiope.”

“Was she the cool aunt who spoiled you rotten?”

“She was the aunt that got me up at six in the morning every day to train.”

“Wow, that’s neat, I guess,” Steve deadpans, and Diana laughs in the darkness, rolling onto her side so that she’s facing him, so that they’re almost nose to nose.

“She was also more indulgent than my mother, yes.”

“I think we have very different definitions of indulgent,” says Steve.

“Perhaps,” says Diana, and despite how late it is, they spend another hour or two trading secrets in the darkness before falling asleep. Steve learns, among other things, that she loves cherries more than any other fruit, that she’d rather take the metro than a cab any day of the week, that she played the harp for a while and misses playing music but not playing the instrument itself. When they finally drift off to sleep, it’s still facing each other, fingers inches apart.

**

Steve wakes up feeling incredibly comfortable and very cozy. It’s only when he stretches a little that he realizes that the warm weight against his chest is not his blanket, but Diana. During the night, they must have migrated into each other, because now that his brain is coming back online, Steve realizes that not only is Diana tucked into his chest, but their legs are twined together. His shifting causes her to stir a little, but only to nuzzle against him a little before settling.

This is fine; he’s not freaking out. Not about how they’re accidentally pressed together, or about how much he likes her, or about what any of this means. Not about lines blurring and becoming harder to make out, not about lying to his friends. He’s fine.

Taking a breath, he weighs his options. He can wait for Diana to wake up and pretend he’s still asleep, and let her figure out how to react, or he can try to extricate himself now. Although it might wake her up, and then it would be doubly awkward, and—

And he’s waited too long in deciding, because Diana stretches a little sleepily and then blinks her eyes open, looking up at him.

“Good morning,” she says, apparently unbothered by their position. It’s making him spiral in confusion, and want, because it would be so easy to lean forward and kiss her, but neither has she directly expressed interest in him romantically, so he’s not about to actually do it.

“Did you sleep well?” asks Diana, gently untangling herself and sitting up.

Now that Steve thinks about it, he realizes that he’s slept better than he has in ages.

“Yeah,” he affirms a little hoarsely. “You?”

“Very well.” He’s considering saying something else—anything else, maybe apologizing for how closely they slept or, alternatively, telling her he adores her—when she continues, “How do you think everyone would feel about quiche?”

“Quiche?”

“One of the few reliable things I can cook,” says Diana, “but I have a good recipe, and I’m quite certain we have everything I’d need.”

Steve blinks. “I think it’d go over well.”

“Perfect!” Diana slips out of bed, sliding across the room with more of her infectious energy as she gathers her clothing for the day.

By the time Steve gets downstairs post-shower, Diana’s got the crust rolled out and blind-baking and has a number of veggies sautéing.

“Oh, good, you’re here! Can you pass me the mushrooms?” she asks, and he obliges, then takes it upon himself to crumble the cheese for her.

“Do you cook a lot?” he asks, and then curses himself, glancing around to make sure they’re alone and that nobody heard what was clearly a question that he, by all rights, should know the answer to. Blessedly, the only other person up is Napi, and he’s out on the porch.

“Not if I can help it,” says Diana. “You?”

“I enjoy it,” says Steve.

“Enjoy what?” asks Sameer, who’s just come down the stairs.

“Passing me ingredients when I tell him to,” teases Diana, successfully covering up what may have been a slip-up, because Sameer just rolls his eyes.

“You two are ridiculous.”

“More like adorable,” says Etta, who has apparently also been summoned by the smell of brewing coffee. “By the way—how did you two start dating? I’ve been meaning to ask since I never heard the story from this one”—she gestures at Steve—“and I’m sure it’s equally adorable.”

Steve can’t believe they’ve come this far without being asked, and that they didn’t do a better job of anticipating this question. He’s about to bumble his way through a response, but Diana, who is now pouring the egg mixture into the pan, has it covered.

“It’s sweet to me because it is ours, but I think you’ll otherwise find it quite boring. My third day of work, I came to his office by accident, looking for another colleague, and we traded a couple of jokes. Two days later, a bunch of people from the office went out for drinks after work, and I ran into Steve again. We spent a lot of the evening chatting, and when we left for the evening, he walked me to my train, and as we were waiting on the platform, he asked me out. He was kind and funny and handsome; there was no reason not to say yes.”

For a moment, Steve feels like he’s been hit by a train, because that’s actually how they met. They did spend an evening chatting, and he did wait on the platform with her. The only bit that didn’t happen was the asking out, and now he wonders what might have happened if he had. Then he reminds himself that it’s all an act, and she’s supposed to be acting like she likes him. He’s getting reality confused with the little mirage they’ve created.

“—it is sweet though,” Etta is saying when he snaps back to attention, unsure of just how much he’s missed.

“Yes, Steve is very thoughtful,” says Diana fondly.

He doesn’t really get a chance to ask her about it, because soon everyone is crowded around the table for breakfast, and that quickly turns into a card game, where they get separated by a few seats. It all somehow blends into lunch, as people swap in and out, Sameer and Noor doing the cooking, this meal, with Adrienne flitting in and out to help as she puts up a few extra lights for tonight’s Christmas eve celebration. He tries not to think about it too much, because Diana looks like she’s having a good time, and he is too, and eventually he gets swept up in the game, focusing on counting trump and keeping track of tricks and arguing genially with Charlie about who may or may not be cheating.

**

“Steve.” Diana pulls him aside after lunch, tugging him into their room.

“What’s up?” She looks entirely too serious, and it worries him. Is this about their story? Is something wrong?

“First kisses are always a bit awkward,” she says bluntly.

It’s so out of the blue that Steve’s brain doesn’t even short-circuit. He just blinks. “Yeah, usually.”

“Well, I just saw Adrienne putting mistletoe up. Your friends are wonderful people, but if we don’t get caught under it naturally, they’ll make sure we do.”

She’s got his friends pegged; that’s absolutely how they operate.

“They’ll recognize something is off if we’ve never kissed. I think we need to practice.”

Now Steve’s brain short-circuits.

“Practice.”

“It’s the only way to make sure it’s not during an ambush.” Her eyes are wide and she’s very close, so close that one of them could erase the distance without even taking a step, but she’s paused, waiting.

Waiting to see if it’s okay, if she has his consent.

His thoughts flick back, inexplicably, to this morning. (Was it really just this morning that they woke up tangled together? It seems a week ago already.) Knowing what it’s like to kiss her will probably explode his brain, but not knowing is worse. He nods, just a fraction, words caught in his throat, and then she’s closed the distance and pressed her lips to his.

Fireworks are for dramatic novels, but the world still shifts on its axis. It’s soft and slow, exploratory, but the pressure is somehow just right, and it consumes him. It’s everything he never let himself imagine it would be, and more. When she eventually pulls away—seconds, minutes, hours later, he’s not sure—he chases her lips for a moment before remembering himself, marshalling his reaction and pulling away in equal measure.

“Right, so. No mistletoe first kiss,” he manages, because seriously, what the fuck, he’s never had a first kiss feel that natural, that right.

“Mission accomplished,” says Diana faintly. “I think we’ll be fine.”

“Fine,” Steve echoes, and he thinks he sees Diana’s gaze flick back to his lips, dark and heavy, but then there’s the pounding of feet on the stairs and shouts outside their room.

“Steve! Diana! Are you in for another round of cards before we start the movie marathon?”

Diana startles, and takes three steps back, smoothing down her hair, her shirt, before opening the door to find Adrienne there, looking at them expectantly.

“Yes, of course,” says Diana.

“Oh,” smirks Adrienne, giving them a once over. “I can come back.”

“No, it’s alright. I’ll come down now; I want to get a cup of tea before we start up again. Steve?”

“I—yeah, a cup of tea would be great. Black tea—”

“—with a dash of honey, I know,” she says fondly, as if this is old news and not something she’s clearly picked up in the last day and a half.

“Thanks.”

When he collects himself and comes downstairs a few minutes later, he spots Diana across the room, head thrown back in laughter as she chats with Napi over the kettle.

She fits, he thinks. He’s seen her in professional settings, being diplomatic even when she doesn’t want to be, but here, she’s relaxed, and from everything she’s said, she likes his friends as much as they like her. Isn’t it sort of everyone’s dream that the person they like gets along with their friends?      

He takes another second to try to untangle his thoughts before he gets ushered back into the fold and has to pretend that everything is uncomplicated.

**

Christmas day dawns bright and cold, and sees, for the second day in a row, Diana snuggled into Steve. Despite another meandering conversation in the dark—in which he absolutely chickened out of asking her about the backstory she created for them, or the kiss—and starting the night on different sides of the bed, they seem to have rolled together in their sleep, and if he didn’t wake up with an absolutely parched throat, Steve would’ve probably gone right back to sleep, enjoying the warmth. Instead, he extricates himself gently, and by the time he gets back to the room a few minutes later, Diana is up and dressed, dashing any plans he might’ve been entertaining for a bit of a lie-in.

As with most things on their holiday trips, the day is centered around food. There’s a huge brunch, and then a little foray outside—nothing like the hike the day before yesterday, just a little walk that turns into a snow angel contest—and then it’s back inside to start cooking Christmas dinner. It’s Etta and Charlie taking point, because, as Steve explains to Diana, the group rule for any and all holidays is that those who observe do the traditional cooking, and everybody else takes care of the clean-up.

At one point in the afternoon, a trivia game gets pulled out, and in a classic showdown of boys (Steve, Sameer, Napi) vs. girls (Diana, Noor, Adrienne), the ladies trounce them thoroughly. There’re plenty of mimosas and someone starts a Christmas playlist, and honestly, Steve can’t think of a better Christmas in a long, long time.

They don’t really exchange ‘real’ gifts, but they do have a long-standing tradition of an intense game of White Elephant, which happens after dinner.

No less than 4 items (a succulent in a corgi-shaped pot, a coffee mug with some gratuitously dirty language on it, a pair of wool socks with Munch’s The Scream emblazoned on them, and an umbrella patterned with cartoon gentleman amongst the raindrops so that it’s always raining men) get stolen so many times that they hit the limit. (Diana walks away the proud owner of the socks, thanks to a strategic steal by Steve, which sets her up to steal them for the last time.)

The mood is so light that Steve has almost forgotten that this isn’t quite real, that he’s lying to his friends and sort of lying to Diana, too. That comes crashing down when they bump into each other coming back into the living room.

See, Steve and Diana had managed to casually avoid the newly strung up mistletoe all of Christmas Eve and most of Christmas day—at least together, that is; at one point Steve finds himself under the mistletoe with Sameer, and they both dramatically grip each other for a theatre kiss—by sheer luck, but their luck runs out after White Elephant. Steve has gone into the kitchen to deposit an empty tray of food, and Diana is on her way back from the bathroom, and they collide in the doorframe.

Instinctively, Steve puts a hand out, touching the small of her back lightly to anchor himself and steady her. It’s just a casual touch, but he lingers a second too long.

“Oooh, look! Steve and Diana are under the mistletoe!” sings Adrienne, pointing from across the room.

Steve glances up automatically, as though maybe Adrienne might be wrong, even though he knows damn well that there’s mistletoe hanging there.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” chants Etta, clearly a little tipsy, and the rest of his asshole friends join in the chant.

Steve’s eyes flick to Diana’s, and she raises an eyebrow, inclines her head almost imperceptibly. It’s permission, so he leans in and gives her a quick kiss, their lips barely touching. He’s not sure he can handle more in front of his friends right now, not with all of the emotions pooling in his stomach.

“Boo!” yells Charlie. “You and Sameer had a better kiss than that!”

There’s general clamoring of assent, and Diana reaches out and cups a hand to his cheek, to a great whoop from someone in their little peanut gallery. “If you are uncomfortable, we do not have to do this,” Diana murmurs, low and close enough that only he can hear it.

The real problem is that Steve wants little more than to kiss her again, but he feels guilty about it.

“It’s okay.”

She searches his eyes for a moment, and then closes the rest of the distance, kissing him properly. He sinks into it, and relishes in the little gasp he elicits when he deepens the kiss just a little. It’s the catcalling that splits them apart, and he’s sure he looks a little shell-shocked.

“That’s a kiss!” hollers Adrienne.

To his surprise, Diana doesn’t immediately move away from him, but stays tucked into his side, blushing a little.

“You’re all just a little too invested in our love life,” she admonishes lightly, but the point is missed as Etta launches into a bit of a ramble about how Steve introduced her to Adrienne by accident and how she’s been looking to return the favor, but that she’s glad Diana is here.

Steve watches Diana go a bit pink again, and wants to pull her aside, try to clear some things up, but then there’s another round of mulled wine, and they settle in for one last Christmas movie before the day ends.

Diana goes to bed before Steve does, while he stays back to have another round with Charlie, and by the time he realizes that he wanted to talk to her alone, she’s fast asleep.

**

The morning of the twenty-sixth is chaotic from the start; Diana’s up and out of bed before Steve wakes up, and then everyone is scrambling to pack up before they all drive back to the city. This time, Diana and Steve have got Sameer and Noor with them, because they came with Napi, who’s leaving directly to visit some extended family, and Etta and Adrienne don’t have enough room because they’re Charlie’s ride. It’s a pleasant ride, and Noor, Sameer, and Diana spend a solid half hour swapping in and out of Arabic to tease Steve, who does speak three languages himself, but doesn’t count darija as one of them.

They drop Noor and Sameer off with promises of seeing them at Etta’s party on New Year’s Eve, at the very latest, and suddenly they’re alone again.

“Thank you again for doing this,” says Steve. “You were the best fake date I could’ve asked for.”

“It was my pleasure,” says Diana. “I had a really good time, and a fun holiday.”

“And you really don’t mind putting in an appearance at the New Year’s Eve party?”

“Not at all. I’m actually looking forward to it.”

“Good; I think everyone is looking forward to having you there.”

They’re quiet as they pull up to Diana’s building.

Before Diana can move to get out of the car, Steve takes a deep breath. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, anything.” Her wide eyes are trained on him, and he almost loses his nerve.

But it’s now or never; he has to know if this is just him or if she feels something too. “If I had asked you out, that night on the platform, would you have said yes?” It feels like the safest version of the question he wants to ask.

Diana doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

It knocks the wind out of him and is simultaneously one of the best things he’s ever heard, because maybe that means there’s still time to make a proper go of it.

“Do you—”

He’s cut off by Diana leaning forward and kissing him sweetly, and he instinctively pulls her a little closer, deepens the kiss without consciously thinking about it.

“Sorry, I interrupted you,” says Diana, biting back a smile when they eventually pull apart, breathless. It makes Steve laugh, and he can’t fight the grin that’s also building. There’s no one around to fool, no one around even to prepare for; this is just them.

“Do you want to come to mine for dinner tonight?” Steve asks, bubbling with a profound sort of happiness. “For a real date this time?”

“I would love that,” says Diana, grinning. “No tricks, no fake backstories. Just us.”

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.”

“Just give me a couple of hours to shower and change and answer a couple of emails?” Diana says.

“How does seven sound? I’ll cook.”

“I can’t wait.”

He watches her go, almost floating from how giddy he feels. As he drives home, he mentally goes over what he’ll need to get for the meal he wants to make. Truly, it was the best fake date ever; he might, he thinks, even consider posting the story of it to the r/relationships thread like one of the Craigslist messages asked, because it’s so wonderfully peculiar.

**

“Right on time!” says Steve with a grin when Diana knocks on his door that evening for their date.

His smile falls when he notices her face, tired and serious, despite how light it had been only hours ago.

“Steve, I have to go,” she says without preamble.

“What?”

“I’m flying back to the Netherlands tonight.” What? That can’t be right; she’s not due back for several months, and even that’s only a trip. Steve’s brain lags a second and then realizes she’s still talking, dark eyes all apologies. “—straight to the airport from here, actually. I just came by to say goodbye. It seemed like the sort of thing that should be done in person.”

“But what—”

“You know who Patrick Morgan is, yes?”

Of course he knows who Patrick Morgan is; he’s a war criminal who was only caught and extradited recently. It made waves when jurisdiction was given over to the ICC, at least among the relevant international communities.

“The war criminal?” he asks, just to confirm.

Diana nods. “That’s the one. Look, I’m not really meant to be talking about my cases, but I’m on the prosecutorial team and his lawyers are good. They’re trying to file a pre-trial motion that would—well, let’s just say it would be bad if the judge ruled in their favor. We’re scrambling and I’m needed back at the office, in person.”

“Shit.” There’s nothing else to say, really. She’s the one who can make sure Patrick Morgan doesn’t hurt anyone else, and that’s that.

“It’s awful timing,” whispers Diana, and there’s true regret in her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize. You’re doing what has to be done.”

“I wish it didn’t,” says Diana. “I wanted to—I don’t know, go on a proper date and go to your friends’ New Year’s party with you, and this has just—it’s mucked it all up, hasn’t it?”

“An understatement,” says Steve, laughing wetly. Maybe—

“I have to call the ARGUS Foundation from the car, get everything squared away in regards to my commitments there. Gods, this is such a nightmare.” Diana’s pacing now, and Steve can see all their possibilities slipping away, now that she’s returning to the Netherlands. It’s not the most important thing, this casualty of what could have been, but it still breaks a little piece of Steve’s heart all the same.

“I wish we had more time,” says Steve, a little bittersweet, because there’s not much else to say. Diana sends him a sad smile and nods.

“I really have to go. I might even miss my flight as it is.”

“Right, of course.”

She looks at him hesitantly for a moment, like she’s going to say something more, and then pulls him into a hug. As she pulls back, she kisses him softly. It feels like goodbye more than any words could.

Then her phone rings, and she looks at him apologetically one more time, a quick, “I’m sorry,” before taking her leave and answering it. He hears her frustrated Dutch echoing down the hall as she walks away.

After she leaves, he feels a little aimless, and a little numb. It doesn’t quite sink in that Diana is gone, but he does think, absently, that something bad was bound to happen, because nothing catastrophic happened over the holidays—no real fights, no disastrous weather; it all went too smoothly.

**

The next few days are a slog: he’s back in the office, technically, but everything has slowed down substantially in between the holidays, just enough to not really keep him occupied.

It scares him a little how much he misses Diana. They were sort-of friends before the fake-dating charade, more friendly-coworkers than anything, but he got used to her being a part of his daily life absurdly quickly and is having a hard time adjusting back. They could have been something spectacular, he knows, if circumstances hadn’t made it impossible.

She texts him when she lands, and he’s glad to know she’s made it safely, but it ignites a fresh wave of ache such that he’s almost glad she doesn’t answer his text back, or text again. He ends up ignoring his phone, mostly, trying to distract himself from thinking about what wasn’t meant to be. (It’s bad luck with fate: if they’d had more time, if they were something real, he might consider moving, but it’s too soon, too early, even if he thinks he might already love her.)

On New Year’s Eve, he spends most of the day cooking, Netflix on in the background, whiling away time before the party Etta and Adrienne are throwing.

“Where’s Diana?” asks Etta, when she opens the door and finds Steve there, alone, carrying three tiers of Tupperware and a bottle of champagne, because of course she does. All his friends adore Diana too.

“She had to fly back to the Netherlands for a case,” says Steve morosely, unable to say anymore because he might choke up, and crying is fine but not during a New Year’s Eve party.

“Oh, what a shame she’ll miss New Year’s! When is she coming back?”

The fresh, stricken look on Steve’s face tells Etta everything she needs to know. “Oh, luv, I’m so sorry. I know long distance isn’t easy.”

It’s the perfect excuse presenting itself, really. In a month, Steve can say that the distance was too much, and Etta will understand, and that will be that. He’ll be out of this lie, too, with no one the wiser that it started as a fake thing. But right now, Steve is still mourning the fact that it never got to be anything real in the first place.

“It is what it is,” says Steve, trying for a smile.

“Well,” says Etta, also going for something resembling cheery. “We’ve got plenty of alcohol and a place for you to crash tonight, if you want it.”

“Thanks, Etta.”

He whiles away the night nursing a glass of wine and floating amongst friends and acquaintances, trying to enjoy the merriment. Etta, bless her, must spread the word that Diana had to leave for work, because only Noor asks after her, right after he gets inside. After that, he doesn’t have to answer any further questions, and instead focuses on the laughter and brightness radiating from his friends.

At a few minutes to midnight, he slips off to a quiet corner, not quite ready to face the rowdy, kissing couples.

Somewhere behind him, the apartment door slams, and there’s something of a commotion, but he doesn’t bother to investigate until—

“Did I make it in time?” asks a breathless voice.

Steve turns, and there, standing in front of him, a vision in a bright red coat, is Diana.

“But how—?” She’s meant to be in Europe, but she’s very much not. She’s here.

She’s here.

“We finished a little early and I got the first flight out. I took a cab from the airport to get here as fast as I could.”

“You hate cabs,” says Steve helplessly, fixating on something that’s very much not the point because it’s one of the many strange things they talked about, and because it’s somehow easier to focus on than any other part of it.  

“I wanted to be here.” Her eyes are twinkling, and Steve can’t quite believe she’s here, on New Year’s Eve, and—shit.

“But what about the case?”

“We got the motion thrown out,” she exclaims, delight lacing her words. “We’re proceeding as scheduled. I’ll have to go back for a bit starting in May, but—”

That phrasing catches Steve’s attention. “Wait, you’re not moving back to the Netherlands permanently?”

“What?” asks Diana, looking genuinely perplexed. “No! It was just a business trip, inconveniently timed. I was never moving back. Did you think—”  

“I thought—” says Steve, at the exact same time.  

There’s a look of recognition on Diana’s face, as if she’s doing the maths, going back over the conversations they had once more in her head. She bites her lip, shakes her head. Laughs.

“We are both a bit stupid, I think,” she says. “I was never going to be gone more than a week or two, but I suppose I didn’t make that clear enough. I thought it was just bad timing, since we were starting something, but you—”

Steve shakes his head, incredulous. “I thought I might never see you again, but you’re really here.”

Diana reaches out and ever so softly touches his cheek. “Yes. So, did I miss the countdown?”

Steve stops fighting the smile that’s building. “Nope. And you know, they say whatever you’re doing at midnight you’ll be doing for the rest of the year.”

“Do they? You’d best choose wisely, then.”

“I’ve got an idea.” The countdown hasn’t started yet, but he leans in slowly anyways, because he figures they’ve wasted enough time. She meets his lips eagerly, and in the background, Steve can hear Etta’s whoop of excitement, but really, the only thing that matters is Diana, and the feel of her lips underneath his.

It’s just as earth-shaking as it was the first few times, but they break apart momentarily as the countdown actually begins from the other room. When midnight hits, they kiss again, a little shorter this time, their smiles too wide to make it a proper kiss.

“Happy New Year, Steve,” whispers Diana, forehead pressed to his.

“Happy New Year,” he echoes. An endless plurality of shifting possibilities stretch before them, elastic and hopeful, and very real once more. From the other room, the chords of a piano start, a telltale sign that Charlie has started his traditional rendition of Auld Lang Syne.

“You know, eventually people are going to realize our anniversary isn’t in July.”

That elicits another giddy laugh, because somehow, he’s gotten lucky enough that this is his reality. “Yeah, but that’s a pretty good problem to have, all things considered. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“No,” says Diana thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t either.”

***

[birdy-bat-writes]

Plumerias

Heyyyyyy, So, I wrote this thing for @anothertimdrakestan because I was so in love with that ship she wrote. Elle, I literally love you and you are my soulmate so Bart can like share you with me but I first soulmate dibs. ❤(ˆ‿ˆԅ) I really hope you like it!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Today was supposed to be about relaxation and letting loose. You were about to meet your friends at the beach for a little retreat. Sounds great, right? So, explain why your car’s ‘check engine’ had to start flashing on your way there. What a whump. The car won’t start…. I guess I have to call her.

Miles away, the phone of your amazing Tumblr soulmate phone rang (shameless self-promotion). “Hey, Elle. On your way?”

“Dude, my car won’t start.”

“Seriously? Wait, where are you?”

“Oh, um, outside the Dunkin Donuts on Field street.”

“Dunkin Donuts on Field street. Got it. I’m going to come get you. Wait there.” Unbeknownst to you or her, someone else was paying an awful lot of attention to our conversation. Your one and only, Bart Allen. He heard your name in conversation and was instantly drawn in. He had been crushing on you for months now, and because you both were adorably oblivious (him more than you), he hadn’t yet realized that you felt the same way. Nonetheless, he took that moment to take off.

“Dunkin Donuts. Field street.” He really only showed up because of you, and if you couldn’t be where he was, he might as well find a way to you. And besides, he just got an opportunity to be all heroic and save your day. Wally and your friend only got to know when a gust of wind blew sand onto them.

“So, I’m assuming Bart’s going to get her now.” Riya said, brushing sand off of her.

“Wait, he didn’t take a car. I’ll call hi-,”

“STOP! I sense shipping opportunities. Let it happen…”

Bart got to the parking lot and saw your car parked by a lamppost. Then the nerves kicked in. You looked so cute dancing in your car. Before walking over to you, he checked out his reflection in the restaurant window and straightened his hair. You saw this though. “Is he… checking himself out in the window? HEY, DORK!” Bart stiffened. Awww his looked so cute with his baseball tee and board shorts.

“Heyyyy, Elle.”

“What are you doing here? I thought Riya was coming to jumpstart my car.” Truth be told, you were quite happy he was there.

“Oh, yeah, well I came here to do that,” And that when it hit him that he didn’t come with a car. Or jumper cables. “but looking at it now, I don’t really know what to do.” You laughed at him.

“My hero.” Sarcasm was evident in your voice. He responded to you sticking his tongue out you. “You’re such a dork.”

“You know it, babe. I’m adorkable.” He said, flashing a bright smile and a wink.

“Oh my god,” You giggled softly. Why does he have to be so darn cute??? “Okay, any suggestions?”

“Let’s get food.”

“I meant to fix the car.”

“Eat first and think better later?” You didn’t even want to argue with that because you were hungry too.

“Alright, I could eat. We’re by Dunkin, want to get something from there?” he nodded. You both went in and ordered quite a bit of food. Bart offered to carry all on the food bags to car but you insisted on carrying some of it and made your way out. Bart met you about two minutes later with the reaming food bag and cup of coffee. That was odd since Bart didn’t like coffee and you don’t remember either of you ordering a beverage.

“This is for you. Iced coffee with cream, no sweetener. Please tell me I got that right.” You were smiling so much.

“You did get it right. How did you know that?”

“I remember hearing you order it sometime.” He remembered a lot of the things you did and said. He can’t pinpoint when or how he heard them but he made it a point to remember the little things just to see you smile. One of the things he loved about you was how your smile was never something as simple as the corners of your mouth turning up. You smiled wholeheartedly with a twinkle in your eyes. It was the type of smile that could light up a whole city, and he lived for it.

“Well, thank you for the coffee, and for remembering.” After that you both sat back and finished your food. The conversations you had were so random, it was hilarious.

Bart: “How is Po not your favorite Teletubby?”

Elle: “How do you have a favorite Teletubby?! They’re creepy!”

***

“I like Ellie.”

“Call me whatever you want.”

“E?”

“Sure.”

“Lele?”

“Sure.” You chuckled at him.

“How about Leelu?”

“I like it.”

“Elle, ma belle?” He did the French accent too. “It means beautiful in French.”

“I know that.” You were stiff as a board and clearly a little shy. *Your heart really went (ɔ◔‿◔)ɔ ♥*

***

“Okay, what’s your favorite flower?”

“Hmm, plumeria.”

“Plume-what?”

“It’s the white one with yellow in the center.” Bart still looked very lost, so you decided to show him a picture. You had leaned over to show it to him and didn’t realize quite how close you were until you looked up and met eyes with him. The moment was however interrupted by your phone ringing. “I’ll just take this.”

“I’ll throw the trash away.” You were both slightly blushy heheh. Cuties. Anyway, you answered the phone.

“Hi.”

“How are you not here yet?”

“Well why didn’t you come with a car?!”

“Because your boyfriend was in too much of a hurry to get into a car.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Yet.”

“What?”

“Never mind that. What was wrong with your car?”

“The check engine light went on, so I checked the engine and everything is fine. I just need to jump-start it.”

“Make Bart do it. Speedsters can produce electric charges high enough to do that.”

“How do you know?”

“Wally does it all the time.”

“So, you use your boyfriend’s powers for this?”

“….Yes.”

***

So, Bart started the car. You made it to the beach without breaking down again and you already felt like that was a victory. You arrived just as the sun was setting too. The water was glowing with gold and orange and high up, you could see the faint glow of stars in the darkening sky. You met with everyone and laid your things down on the beach chairs before heading towards the water. Bart joined you and you walked along the beach. People lit bonfires and the light gave the whole place a warm glow and being there with him felt surreal. *Splash* Surrealism gone. You splashed back. You went back and forth like this and ran to distance yourself from him but being a speedster, he caught you. You both called a truce and sat down where you were, still laughing. You were at a more secluded part of the beach. You were closer to the cliffs and greenery that surrounded this part of the beach, and while you were admiring it, Bart stood up.

“I’ll be right back.” You wondered where he went but he didn’t take long to come back. When you saw him, he had one hand behind his back, and before you could ask, he crouched down next to you and showed you a little white and yellow flower. It was a plumeria. “Tada.” He delicately put it in your hands.

“Oh my gosh, thank you. Where’d you find this?”

“I saw a small tree over there, and I thought the flowers looked like the picture you showed me.”

“I love it.” Gosh, why is he so cute? And caring too??? Only a few moments later he asked you,

“Hey, E, most people pick roses or carnations as their favorite. How come you like this one?”

“In Hawaii, there’s this sort of tradition. If you wear a single plumeria on your right, it means you’re single and if you wear it on your left that means you’re taken. I always thought it was really cute.”

“That is cute.” You’re cute. I love you.

“Hey, Bart?” All or nothing. I can do this.

“Hm?”

“I really like you.” He didn’t say anything. He just smiled really wide, and leaned in. you closed your eyes and felt his lips brush yours. It was sweet and passionate, and when you pulled away you saw his beautiful forest-green eyes. The evening sun brought out every glimmer of gold and olive in the green. “So you like me back then?” He let out a short laugh.

“Yes. Very much.” He looked down at the flower in your hand. “Actually, may I?” he asked, gesturing to the flower. You nodded. Bart tucked a few strands of hair behind your left ear and placed the flower between them. It was really cute- *CLICK*

“What the-?”

“SHIIIIIIIIP!” ‘Twas your crazy friend. She fangirls. Let her have this. She ships it.

“Riya, get back here!”

“Never! This is going in a scrapbook and you can’t stop me!”

End. :D

 Hi, so I know I told you I was writing this Fic but I bet you didn’t know about the Headcanon:

 Because you’re too precious and I love you too much to stop there.

-       You and Bart are literally the cutest couple though.

-       He calls you Leelu, E, Ellie. Smelly Ellie if he’s feeling daring. Hehe.

-       You guys make endless meals of chicken nuggets.

-       He will never and I mean NEVER go to bed without messaging you ‘Goodnight, I love you.’ And at least four emojis.

-       He loves your hair. Sometimes he’ll try to play with it, and you’ll lean back into him. Sometimes you both will just fall asleep there.

-       Can you imagine him trying to read your fanfictions? Aww that would be so cute. Endless teasing.

-       He would constantly be impressed by how smart and creative you are.

-       He would go to all of your games and school events, cheering the loudest.

-       He’s so in love with your eyes. He’s so in love with YOU he’ll just sit sometimes and stare at your face, smiling.

-       You’re the only person who gets to call him Henry. There’s also SO many cute nicknames. Bar-bar, imagine if you called him Bartholomew, call him mew-mew.

-       He would do the Kidflash and Jinx thing but with plumeria instead of roses.

-       I really feel like he would speed up to you wherever you are, kiss you and then run away just because he missed you.

-       So much cuddling. He would LOVE your dog.

-       You radiate tall person energy but you’re actually a smol bean so like imagine the height difference when he kisses you! (hehehe I’m taller than you)

-       He’d lift you up all the time and twirl you around while he kisses you.

-       He hates when you don’t give him attention so if you’re distracted when he’s around, he’ll kiss your neck and cheeks until you focus on him.

-       You guys would be goofy and fun. He’d love your energy.

-       Ice cream dates. Get ice cream on your lips. He’ll kiss it away.

-       Also, a scene:

-       “Okay well, I confessed first.”

-       Well, I kissed you first!”

-       “I said ‘I love you’ first!”

-       “Well, I proposed first!”

-       “What?”

-       *Down on one knee with a ring*

-       That would be you two.

-       Oh, and I won’t be taking pictures of that, I’ll be recording it. It shall play at your wedding.

-       Overall, you guys are so cute and healthy and perfect. He would definitely do everything he could to make you happy and you’re such a caring, loving person, I know you’d do the same.