#fun fact: i made the color for the hearts from blending their lip colors together... like a little kiss

[maemil]

Day 4 - Handholding & Casual Touches

I think this was the first @starwarssapphicweek prompt I started sketching after day one, because it's just... pure fluff.

[ID: A digital drawing of Ahsoka Tano and Barriss Offee from the thighs up. They are holding hands, leaning into each other slightly and smiling. There are cartoon hearts floating around them both.]

[boop-le-snoot]

marmalade taffy

Helmut Zemo smut & feels. Soft!Dom Zemo, non-superhero!AU, Zemo being the weird uncle of college!Maximoff twins. This was written on a whim so if someone signs up to beta-read, I will shower you with affection and reminders to drink water. The Reader is addressed as "you" and is not described - race/age/body type neutral. The language I used for Sokovian is actually Serbian. Word count 2,8k.

Fun fact: I have mild synesthesia. Emotions/feelings and some people have an assigned color (and sometimes smell) for me. That's how the name of the fic was born. This fic feels like the colors of marmalade and taffy, look them up. This fic is dedicated to my lovely @slothspaghettiwrites , the shining beacon in my misty, rocky beach. (You're a periwinkle for me, by the way. I thought you might ask.)

When you first see him all you do is raise an eyebrow. His sleek, well-maintained vintage car stands out almost grotesquely amongst the various sedans and mom vans on the campus and you can see the glint of his wristwatch even from afar. Wanda's and Pietro's sheepish smirk only makes the situation worse - the girl's attire obviously screams "liberal arts" and her twin brother doesn't seem to have anything better to wear than tracksuits.

The man behind the wheel is unfazed. He is calm and collected in that European way, not conceited, just waiting. For what? You don't know. His eyes trail over you but he doesn't smile, simply gives a tiny polite nod. If you hadn't had extensive conversations about cultural differences with Wanda, you'd say he was extremely rude.

Shy, quiet Wanda, who's eyes lit up seeing her favorite not-actually-uncle. In a surprising dash of energetic agility, she hopped right into the car, her numerous scarves a bright flash of saturation against the campus grayscale. You giggle and wave at the departing car, snorting when Wanda's hand reaches over to briefly honk the horn, causing the driver to swerve the tiniest bit, his eyes trained on you in the rearview mirror.

He comes and goes often. Almost always in a different perfectly restored vintage car, mostly with the same polite mask of bored contentment. You know he's royalty in his home country and can't help but wonder how frivolously the twins act around him - no, free. He gives all the appearance of a silent, strict man.

You're proven wrong rather quickly. Freshman year left behind you, you and Wanda decide to ditch the dorms for an apartment - she finds one rather quickly and it's just you two in it even though it is ridiculously huge and the rent amount she requests is equally ridiculously small. Not the one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you pretend nothing is out of the ordinary and buy yourself a new pair of shoes.

Helmut - Wanda finally formally had introduced you two - doesn't come by often, however the visits are always... Eventful. He's not at all what it seemed to be; in the quiet of your apartment, a witty, incredibly clever man resurfaces from under the stoic façade. The Slav in him easily lets him consume alarming quantities of alcohol together with Pietro, who opted to stay in the dorms with his idiotic football team, and - you couldn't believe your eyes at the time - dorkily dad-dance squat in the middle of your living room, unfazed by your and Wanda's cackling.

The way Helmut is absolutely unbothered by the audience and the laughter, pale face flushed from the wine and a little smirk stretching his thin lips into expression almost catlike. The maroon turtleneck stretches nicely across his chest, as thinly as your lip that you worry between your teeth.

Pietro raises an eyebrow. You shrug.

"Got something in your eye, no?" He teases playfully and you shrug again, taking another swig of your nice, European beer.

There are more gatherings, more parties and quite a few rides in his car, when the wind blows your hair in all directions possible and intermingles it with Wanda's as you giggle and squeal in the back seat. Helmut always indulges you two; the word 'no' simply does not exist in that man's vocabulary. He insists politely but firmly on a dinner with all three of them on your birthday and the gifts he brings make your eyes pop out and your face heat.

"A woman like you makes any sensible man want to shower you with the finest gifts," Helmut's voice is quiet and his accent is thick and somehow, it makes it all that harder to refuse. He smiles like usual - tiny and a little secretive, as he pecks your cheek, filling the air around you with the smell of his cologne. It makes your mouth water and your fingers clench helplessly around the half a dozen of silk paper-wrapped boxes.

The summer rolls in and it's hot and humid and finally you don't have to worry about waking up at the crack of dawn or classes or the annoying boys who can barely take a no for an answer. The invitation to Helmut's villa doesn't come as a surprise; Wanda had been riled up over it since early May and Pietro and his whole damn football team were equally as thrilled.

You pack flowy dresses, daisy dukes and swimsuits. The expensive jewelry and handbag Helmut had gifted you, too, since the villa is surrounded by a whole neighborhood meant solely for the rich and famous. Wanda is absolutely unbothered by her own bohemian chic and you quietly envy her; the longer you get to know her, the more you realise of how much actually she does not give a fuck about anything besides her paintings and sculptures.

It's admirable, really, because she is talented. And Helmut knows it, too, having had collected and kept every single work Wanda had made, showing it off in the various rooms of his two-story mansion. The abstract fits in well and is a great conversation topic for him and his equally important friends. There's an endless stream of them in the first days and Wanda isn't overtly happy, choosing to run away to laze around the pool with you more often than not.

Helmut's friends stop at the glass wall between the inner side of the house and the pool to stare at you two, too, causing something dark and tense flash across his features. There always had been a sort of tangy obscurity in him, you've noticed, but not nearly enough for you to grow concerned. It added the bittersweetness, the flavour and consistency to the modest man.

Although calling him modest might have been a mistake. The moment you can't shake off one of his friends after a polite chit-chat seems to never end, Wanda nowhere in sight, dread and unease digging their sharp, spindly fingers in the soft flesh behind your rib cage, Helmut is suddenly there, arm wrapped almost possessively around your waist.

"Draga mea, Wanda is looking for you. She says it's urgent," He stares the man down with the eyes of a vulture. "I believe we haven't been properly introduced," Helmut seems to not realize he's still clutching you in a grasp of steel as the man opposite you rumbles out his name, few syllables you'd forgotten seconds after he spoke them for the first time.

"Baron Helmut Zemo," the fingers brush and squeeze once, gently, over the valley of your waist before letting go. You miss the rest of their peacocking, walking away with a fight and fire inside of your hammering heart. Anxiety and longing and confusion mix and blend, combining into a cocktail that has you beelining for the bar like a woman parched.

The next day you're sleeping off the hangover, first in your bed and then by the pool - Wanda had run off into town for one thing or another, and knowing her, she'd be back home at the crack of dawn. It was blissful peace, the soothing balm for your troubled heart and your aching head.

"Hungover?" Helmut's voice was quiet and a little bit teasing. None of the Eastern Europeans had ever showed the signs of having any ill effects from the alcohol they drunk, unlike you.

You stretched, too blissed out to care about the skimpy strings and straps of your bikini, basking in the gentle morning sun. "Mmm, not anymore," a swim in the cold pool had done wonders.

Your soft pink float rocked as Helmut's footsteps quieted, giving way to a short splash and the sound of his breathing somewhere in your space. Just as you cracked open your eyes, he reached out a hand to steady himself next to you. "I wanted to apologize for the situation yesterday. That man was stepping out of line. He is not welcome in my home anymore."

You stare at him and then you snort. The blunt was he usually speaks is so easy, it flows oh so effortlessly. No mind games, just honesty. You want to pay him back in kind. "Don't worry, Helmut. I just had a bit too much to drink," that was the truth. Any other time and you wouldn't have hesitated to unapologetically steer clear of any creep. Heat and bubbly don't mix and that was your own mistake.

"No, printsesa," the man in front of you let loose some of the delicious darkness, eyes growing stormy, hand gently resting over yours. "Some men are fools, they are nothing but animals. You deserve to feel safe, especially in my home." His lips stretched into a smile, water dripping down his jaw and making tiny circles form in the azure of the pool.

"I can't argue with that," you replied, catching the stray liquid and following the trails it made with your eyes. His forehead, dripping down over his eyes, making Helmut blink the stray drops away until they landed on his lips, trickling down his chin.

You swallowed, opting to dip your toes into the cool pool water before you could make a fool of yourself. The water splashed towards him, making a mischievous grin grace his usually serious face, as me made a half-hearted attempt to splash back weakly, making the water sizzle on your sun-kissed skin. Never the one to back down from a challenge, you knitted your eyebrows in mock offense, eagerly letting the water wash over you as you abandoned the float in favour of creating waves with your whole body.

The temperature contrast was delicious and Helmut's laugh even more so as it echoed in between the high walls of the building surrounding the pool. The sun was nearly at its peak, shining over your head in a beacon of heat that almost matched the one inside of you, the one that had blossomed there months ago and finally grew into a steady smolder, shooting sparks whenever you were around the baron.

It was hot and wet, the same feeling chasing you two when you finally kissed. His hand firmly planted on the side of your neck, his nose softly brushing against the underside of your jaw, Helmut was in no rush to taste you, to savour every millimeter of your sun-kissed skin. The man left you with your fingertips trembling and heart scrambling for purchase somewhere in the deepest pits of your belly.

"What are you so hungry for, mmm?" Helmut's voice rumbled next to the shell of your ear; you could barely focus, skin singing underwater, where he held onto you like a lifeline. "You have hungry eyes, ljubavi, tell me what it is and I'll give it to you," your bodies pressed flush against each other, his eyelashes flittering against your cheek.

"You," the maximum capacity for your brain was one-syllable words and you used it sparingly, failing to suppress a gasp when Helmut's mouth latched around a particularly sensitive spot right under your jawline.

Teeth scraped over it before he soothed the sting with his tongue. "All the things in the world, I could give them to you. And yet..." He sounded almost disappointed. Perplexed, just as you were at the strange admission. "A woman like you would have men fighting for your attention yet you give it to me so freely," he murmured softly, capturing your lips in a slow, fluid kiss once more. "I will make sure you have everything you could ever want."

Helmut's touch grew bolder as he steered the two of you towards the shallow end of the pool. The taste of him was intoxicating, like the sweetest, most alluring poison you'd ever tasted: you knew that once you had one small bit, you'd be addicted, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. His words were clever and his mouth even more, making the short stumble upstairs last hours.

A wall, baroque tapestry, marked with the wetness of the pool water, where you allowed yourself to be pressed against as he leaned into you with the entirety of his broad frame, domineering the kiss effortlessly.

You panted as your back hit the soft, million-thread count, unmade sheets of the baron's bed, staring up into his eyes and finding your own reflection in his pupils, blown wide with lust. The tiny smirk was back but now his unexpressive face was marred by a gleem, accentuating his moist, puffy lips you'd licked into and bitten in a heated frenzy.

"Beautiful, printsesa," he stated with quiet firmness, leaning over into you to unclasp and toss away the upper part of the bikini. The bottoms followed suit, flung carelessly somewhere. His hands ran over your as it sang, every tiniest nerve hypersensitive, coming alive with a fervor borne of months of longing, complimented by the summer heat and cool waters.

"Helmut," your voice wavered, flowed on the syllables as his clever, clever mouth trailed hot down your chest, briefly submerging each nipple into the sear of it. Goosebumps rose over your exposed body, highlighting a trail for him, a trail he followed eagerly. Kisses were candy sweet and marshmallow soft.

Hot breath at the apex of your thighs had you mewling and arching into it, having abandoned all shame, and Helmut found it amusing. The petite chuckle made an appearance, his fingertips ghosting over the part of your lower lips; he was as amused by your impatience as he was enthralled by the youthfulness of the gesture. "Shh, ljubavi, I will make it feel better," his accent as thick as clover honey and just as saccharine.

The first movements were tentative, brief and so light, the demanding moan slipped out of your mouth along with a growl of frustration. You felt continuous chuckling, slight stubble rasping along the sides your thighs; you felt him pick up pace and steady his hot hands on your hips as you attempted to trash against the overwhelming stimulation your pussy was receiving.

His moans, loud and wet, drove you closer to the edge like a drunk drove a Ferrari; Helmut's skill was unparalleled but it lacked precision as he lost himself in the moment just as much as you.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm- I'm so close," you managed to grunt out before the crescendo hit, eyes rolling back into your skull as the influx of more, more, more hit every nerve ending in your body. You could do little more than rest your legs on his shoulders as the noble man, the quiet storm lapped up every drop of your release.

He made the inside of you weak.

In seconds, Helmut was back on top of you, grinding his arousal into you desperately, almost begging for it and all you could do was let your body respond, mimic your lover, clench around nothing just as you felt him twitch.

"Tell me you're mine," he demanded hooking one of your legs over his hip, eyes boring into yours with everything in them plain on display. It was a terrifying thing: as if your heart had suddenly grown legs, stood up and walked out into the bare, wide world, open for all to see. "Ti moa, skaži eto," his native tongue made his voice even more hoarse, you couldn't resist anymore.

"I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours," you chanted the words like a prayer, hoping he'd be merciful - and he is. No, there's only a hidden tenderness in his hands as he drives into your with increasing force that shakes you and makes your core quiver, igniting your flesh once again like the color red; it's messy and it's sloppy and you're barely aware of Helmut muttering something into the crook of your neck as you feel yourself clench down on him with a choked moan.

"Fuck," hearing him, the polite composed man, bite the end of his own orgasm into a curse made a wave of magenta hot rush travel through your body at lightning speed, his cock pulsating and coating you, claiming you from inside out so sweetly you couldn't resist a shallow gasp into his cheek, a gasp he mirrored as his own oversensitive flesh was once more assaulted by your combined lust.

The tide of his breathing was high; both of you spent yet still drunk on the newfound sense of togetherness. It was clear as a summer's day that in your arms laid a man who'd once lost something important and you - you were a someone who's never had anything of significance and perhaps, this time each other's arms would let you both keep whatever it was that you missed.

[preciousthingsareprecious]

Hearts Painted on Skin

Written for @damianwayneweek's Day 4. I selected Soulmates for this. I've never written a soulmate AU before, so this was fun to explore. Thanks @audreycritter for the idea! She flooded me with ideas for this week and I am so thankful for them all.

Characters: Damian and Dick

Summary: Damian has a mark just under his collarbone in the shape of a feather. Mother has always told him it was a scar. He was mostly okay with that until he came to Gotham and saw more marks. Marks that could not possibly be scars. He is starting to wonder if she lied, and why.

AO3 Link

~

Damian looked in the mirror, his shirt in his hands, prepared to pull on. For what felt like the thousandth time, he paused to look at the little mark on his skin. It was a feather, unmistakably. Damian had held enough up to it for comparison, whenever he could get his hands on one.

“It is a scar.” Mother’s voice echoed in his head.

It was a statement she’d told him time and time again. Each moment he brought it up. Every moment he looked at a League member who had a darker patch on their cheek, or wrist. Whenever his eyes lingered on flowers and swirls and shapes painted on fingers, arms, feet, and one time an eyelid. She would lean down, her voice soft, promising, full of truth, hard as law, and whisper those four words. It. Is. A. Scar.

“But others have similar.” Damian had asked once.

“Of course they do, they are fighters as well.” she had told him.

Damian believed her. Why would she lie? What reason had she to speak falsely about such a thing?

And yet.

He dropped half of the shirt to run his fingers over it, it was smooth as the skin underneath. It was skin, just of a darker color. A warm chocolate to his tan. It was not raised, not pinched. Nothing about it was creased or seemed to be anything but natural. As if it had always been there.

“But I do not remember getting it.” he had said again, in response to her once.

“You received it when you were young. A baby.”

He had furrowed his brow. Who would harm a baby? Even in the League? Especially Talia’s child? She’d never told him.

Damian tugged his shirt on, covering the spot with soft cotton and a bright pattern of animal silhouettes that somehow did not look childish. He ran his hand over the fabric, again pausing by the not-scar. His eyes flit to his dresser. In the drawer rested a bottle of concealer, matched to his skin tone exactly. It was empty now, used up and he had yet to replace it.

Normally, Damian would cover his not-scar with it. Careful layers blended to hide the fact that anything blemished his skin. It was a dangerous mark. Made when he was a baby, and carrying a weight on it that Mother insisted would draw catastrophe to him if it were seen.

He had complained about the concealer once, hating the time it took to apply and how it made his skin feel itchy sometimes.

Mother had run her fingers through his hair, gentle and loving, “I know, dear, but it is not safe to bring attention to. If others learned of it--you would be in danger.” She had even gone so far as to insist Damian not tell Grandfather.

It was a dangerous secret so terrifying the leader of the League of Assassins could not know. One Damian had to protect him from. At least, that was what Damian had thought then. Now, he wondered if Mother was protecting him from Grandfather.

He tugged on his shirt, testing the collar, even stretched it hid his mark with ease. No one would see it today. Perhaps his new concealer would arrive soon. Pennyworth had approved the order, as something useful to help them hide their identities better. Bruises from patrol were hard to explain, especially when Richard was under scrutiny for caring for him.

A knock immediately preceded, “Damian? You ready?”

Damian turned and nodded at Richard, “Yes, I believe I am.”

He looked over his brother, searching his skin for anything like Damian’s own mark, but beyond real scars, Richard was unblemished.

His brother, and guardian, smiled at him, “Great, let’s go! It’s a beautiful day and I promised you some ducks.”

Damian allowed a smile, “Yes you did.”

They spent the day at one of Gotham’s parks. Richard said they were doing recon to determine if Wayne Enterprise should fund a beautification project, but Damian was well aware his brother was using this as a day of relaxation. He was taking the day off work, and Damian had been excused from classwork for the outing.

He’d intended to take the recon seriously, by marking down elements both in favor of, and against selecting this park as the location for beautification funds. And for a little while Damian had. Then he’d flipped to a blank page in his notebook and started sketching the scene ahead of them.

Beside him, Richard lounged on their picnic blanket, reading what looked to be a romance book, and picking at grapes Pennyworth had packed for them. Normally, Damian would take the opportunity to berate him for laziness, but they had faced a number of difficult patrols over the past few nights and Damian was inclined to let him have his break.

Richard consistently drilled into him the importance of caring for one’s body all the time, mentally and physically. Damian knew this day would make Batman safer in the field, and also--he was kind of enjoying the quiet time. It was new to him, learning to relax and feel safe outside of the very few places he’d had at the League, but he could see the appeal to it. It did help keep him sharp, and he was always better rested after.

So he focused on on relaxing. He sketched for a while, drawing the pond first, and the trees around it. Then flipping the page to work on his figure drawing. As he drew, Damian’s eyes caught on marks. On birthmarks, and scars, and tattoos. Most importantly, his eyes locked onto various not-scars. Which is what they had to be.

He doodled them on another sheet. Drawing each unique one. Even those that were similar in style usually had little differences. A star might have one arm longer than the other, while one was perfect.

The only time he saw two of them match perfectly were on a couple pushing a stroller. The couple had little numbers on the back of their hands, one on their left, the other on the right. Damian pressed his lips together. They could have been tattoos, many people had them, but Damian couldn’t help but wonder.

He had been wondering since he’d arrived in Gotham months ago. People here all had marks. They had marks and they showed them off. Confused, Damian had messaged his mother to ask her. She’d said they were scars, tattoos, birthmarks that were meaningless. They were the marks of a different type of people than Damian had been raised around.

Distance had a way of stripping his mother’s voice of it’s old comforting truth.

But he had been busy learning. There was so much to learn in Gotham that had nothing to do with the mark on his body. Damian had spent more time frustrated about rules, and fearing he’d be sent back to a place that felt less and less like home every day. More and more time learning to be a good Robin to his Batman, and learning to trust Richard.

The question of his mark was rarely on Damian’s mind, and mostly relegated to moments he was alone or like this.

He glanced over at Richard. The man was still immersed in his book and Damian’s question died on his lips. He flipped his book to a new page and focused back on the pond, specifically the ducks swimming around on it. He had, after all, been promised some ducks.

That night they returned to patrol. Damian almost suggested they take a break, but they’d been working a drug trafficking case over the course of the week and were close to wrapping it up. If all went well during this patrol then they could rest. Damian would insist upon it if Richard did not.

They staked out an old appliance store. Richard figured the drugs were being shipped out either in the appliances or the crates. They just needed to intercept a shipment, incapacitate the team working on it, and confirm the drugs were there. Then they could call in Gordon and be done with all this.

Batman and Robin were crouched together. Richard had declared that they should stick close tonight. Damian wondered if it was because he knew they both were still feeling a little worn down. He could read it in Richard’s body language, and he knew his mentor could read the same in his.

After around twenty or so minutes, a truck pulled up to the building and the shipping door opened to allow it to back in. They watched for a moment, confirming no other trucks were on their way, and then both pulled back from the edge of the roof they’d been peering over.

Richard pointed to a large vent they could drop in on the store from. Damian nodded, and followed his mentor. The slipped into the vents, then moved like mice over to where the shipping area was located. Damian paused behind Richard as the man peered through an exhaust vent to watch the proceedings below.

“They’ve started unloading.” he whispered, then tapped something on his cowl and was silent for another long moment, “And they’re talking about the drugs.”

“So we go?” Damian asked.

“I’d say so.” Richard said, “Stick close tonight Robin, I’ve seen a couple guns swinging around and I don’t want to explain a bullet wound to Al tonight.”

“The same goes for you.” Damian responded.

“There’s twelve by my count, two of those are still in the car. Try to get to them first. I’ll grab the guys with the guns,” Richard directed.

“Affirmative.” Damian agreed. Taking out the ones that could remove the product, and the ones that were the most dangerous first was a good idea.

With that, Richard kicked out the vent, tossed a handful of gas pellets, and they dropped into the smoke.

Damian bolted through it for the truck. He was able to easily dodge the men and women in the room, now sent into a flurry of action and confusion over the smoke. He ducked around the driver’s seat of the truck and yanked the door open.

The man inside was shocked, and Damian was able to use that element of surprise to yank the man out of the front, sending him tumbling to the ground. A few quick blows had him unconscious.

Damian straightened, and turned back towards the truck cab. His eyes went wide, seeing the passenger leaning over both seats, a gun aimed out the door at him. Damian dodged to the side as the gun went off. Pain sliced through his arm as the bullet nicked him, but at least it hadn’t hit him in anything vital.

He swore, Richard had just told him not to get shot.

He snarled at the man, immediately returning fire with a batarang. It caught fingers, and the gun went tumbling to the floor of the cab. Damian then lurched forward, and dragged the passenger out of the car. Twisting his arm as he fell to drag it up behind his back.

In another movement, Damian grabbed the man’s other hand and yanked it behind his back, securing them both with a zip tie.

“Stay.” he growled into his ear, “Or you will regret it.”

He climbed up into the cab and jammed a pole under the steering wheel, locking it in place to keep it from moving if anyone tried to drive the truck.

With that, he turned back into the fray. At this point the smoke had begun to clear. Damian could see that Batman had knocked out a few men already, they were down to 8 enemies to fight. Richard’s warning to stay close was fresh in Damian’s mind, his throbbing arm a reminder that maybe his Batman had wanted him to not quite jump ahead like he had. But then again, Damian should have been able to handle two men in a truck.

He huffed, and fell into line beside Batman.

“Robin, you get the car under control?”

“It will not be going anywhere.” Damian confirmed.

“Good.” There was something tight in Richard’s voice Damian didn’t recognize, but there wasn’t time to explore the reason for that the other men and women were on them already.

Damian had to admit, he and Richard worked well as a team. They were efficient, and quick. Richard’s insistence on having them run drills and practice together before they’d ever gone out into the field had paid off early on, and since then they’d only built on that success.

They managed to take out the rest of the criminals quickly, and they prevented any of them from escaping. After that, Richard directed Damian to zip tie the unconscious thugs while he checked out the boxes of goods.

As Damian was finishing up with the last man, Richard called out, “Found them! I’m calling it in.”

“Good, I am finished here.”

They paired back up outside the building as Batman called the car to their location. Damian had his cape tugged over his arm in an attempt to hide the bleeding, but as they waited, a breeze caught him by surprise and tugged it up, and out of the way.

“Robin!” Batman said, “Why didn’t you tell me you’d been injured?”

Damian tugged his cape back in place, scowling, “You told me not to get shot.”

Then his eyes caught on Richard’s left arm, it too was visible and bleeding. Damian pointed at him, accusing.

“You as well! How could you not tell me you’d been injured?”

Richard opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again, “I-For the same reason as you. It happened right at the start.”

That must have been why Damian hadn’t heard it, they’d been shot at roughly the same time.

His brother shook his head, “Amazing, we both managed to do the one thing we didn’t want to. Alf’s going to have a field day with this one.”

When they returned to the bunker Alfred directed them both to a shared cot.

“Shirts off young masters, I’ll need to dress both of those wounds.”

Damian rolled his eyes and started tugging off his vest, then undershirt. It wasn’t until it was off that he remembered he still had not covered up his mark. Hopefully they would lump it in with the other scars across his chest.

It was not to be however. Next to him, Richard had stilled. He was staring at Damian’s chest. Damian could feel it, his eyes locked on the feather just under his collarbone.

He froze, his spine stiffening. He didn’t know what to say. His mother’s excuses felt like lies on his tongue and he knew he couldn’t give them to Richard. The man wouldn’t believe him for a moment.

Richard’s gaze was strangely soft. Not angry or upset or any of the things Damian had come to expect from what someone might do when they saw his not-scar. It made him want to squirm in his seat, but he was Damian al Ghul-Wayne. He did not squirm.

“Damian--” Richard’s voice was terribly soft, his eyes glittering, “I had no idea.”

Damian swallowed, there it was. The sadness that he had thought might come. It was dangerous. Seeing it put people in danger, and Richard had seen it, and Damian--Damian did not want him in any kind of danger.

He reached up to put his hand over the mark, and looked down, “I am sorry--I forgot. Had I remembered I hadn’t covered it I would not have--I would have dressed my arm on my own.”

“Do you not want me to see it?” Richard sounded hurt.

Damian looked back up at him, surprised. Richard sounded like he did when Damian was particularly cruel. He tried not to be that way sometimes, but--well pain or frustration drove him to saying things he regretted.

“I--Mother told me no one was allowed to.” He pressed his palm against it a little tighter.

“Why?” Now Richard sounded confused.

Damian was confused. Shouldn’t he know? The way Mother spoke of it had made Damian believe it to be something that anyone would recognize. A black mark.

“It is dangerous.” Damian said simply, “Just seeing it would put myself and others in danger.”

Richard’s brow was furrowed. Behind him, Alfred cleared his throat.

“Master Damian, might I ask, do you know of soul marks?”

“What?” Damian asked, looking up at him, “No, I have never heard of the term.”

Something twisted in his stomach. Sour and warm. He was certain now Mother had lied. He didn’t know why she had lied, but it was making him sick. The warmth was a kind of hope. An answer to the questions plaguing him since he’d arrived.

“A soul mark is a mark each of us are born with. It is to help us find the person most suited for us in the world. Some people never meet their soulmates, but find love all the same but others do and their marks always match.”

Damian remembered the couple he’d seen in the park, their matching hands.

“So then--this is one of those? Not a scar?”

He let his hand drop, fingers grazing the feather.

“I can confirm that it is indeed a soul mark.” Alfred said.

Damian frowned at him, “Have you seen its match?”

Alfred smiled at him. Richard cleared his throat and Damian returned his attention to him. Understanding now blooming, Richard had thought he’d keep something like a soul mark from him. Had believed Damian wouldn’t want him to know something so personal. He must apologize.

Before he could get the words out, Richard had tugged his own shirt off and there, under his collar bone and just above his heart was a feather. It was the feather. Damian’s feather. The one he had seen every day in the mirror. The one he’d traced a hundred times wondering about.

“Oh.” Damian said.

And then, “I don’t understand. I--we would not be romantically compatible?”

Richard snorted, “Soulmates don’t have to be romantically involved, Dames. It can be totally platonic. Often best friends will have matching marks, or a father and son. It just means--well it means we fit together in a special way. That we’ll always be precious to each other.”

Damian could have told Richard that, and it seemed his body had already done the work for him. Or fate? Damian felt he may get a headache if he tried to figure this out.

The point was, Richard was the most important person in his life. He just--he’d had no idea that it had been declared before he’d even met the man. Before he even knew that they would get to the point where they’d trust each other with their lives. It felt right. Instead of a declaration these marks were a promise.

Richard had chosen to love Damian with his whole heart before even knowing who Damian would be to him. And Damian? Well Damian had done the same.

“I hate to break up this moment, but you are both still bleeding.” Alfred said, “You may continue to talk but I really must begin caring for your wounds.”

Damian blushed, “Yes, of course.”

Instead of talking, they fell into silence, both Damian and Richard lost in their own thoughts. Soon, Alfred was finished, and had dismissed both of them.

Damian looked from Richard to the elevator that would return them to the penthouse and back, “I still have questions.” he said, not wanting to be sent to bed with his mind still racing.

“Me too.” Richard said, “How about some cocoa? We can talk upstairs.”

“That sounds nice.”

They moved up to the penthouse, and Damian sat at the bar, his hands pressed into the marble countertop of it. They’d both dressed in pajamas, but even with a shirt tugged over his soul mark --and how nice it was to have a real word for it-- he still felt exposed. Raw. Like there was something new and strange about him.

But nothing had happened with it. It was still there, still the same color and size. Still just a part of him that he’d always had.

“So.” Richard said, taking the seat next to him, and sliding a mug of steaming hot chocolate over, “You have questions?”

“As do you.” Damian said, taking the mug to hold between his palms, “Why don’t you ask yours first?”

His brother hummed, “I think yours will probably answer mine, but let’s start with something easy or maybe not easy, but, well what do you know about soulmates or marks?”

Damian nodded, “I--Mother never explained soulmates to me. I know the term only in a general sense. A phrase used not literally, but figuratively to describe two people romantically entwined. None of my teachers spoke of it, and no one at the League did either.”

He tapped his mug, “I was not blind, I saw the marks. But I believed them to be other things. Scars, birthmarks, or--well I did not have a word for what they were.” Damian could not look at Richard, it was silly. He should have asked more, pressed Mother for answers or done his own research, “It was not until I arrived in Gotham that I saw so many and began to wonder. Surely not everyone in the world could have gotten tattoos? But--not all were visible and so I did not ask.”

Richard was quiet, listening and taking in Damian’s words with rapt attention. He hadn’t even sipped his cocoa. Damian took a gulp of his, just to do something that wasn’t watching his brother.

“And yours?” Richard asked, “What did Talia tell you about it?”

“I--Mother told me mine was dangerous.” Damian pressed his fingers to his chest again, “I was not to talk about it or ask about it. It was supposed to be a scar, from an attack on me when I was a baby. But I always knew it was not. Still, she was insistent I not tell anyone or let others see. Especially Grandfather.”

Damian frowned, “I thought for a long while it was to protect him. That I was cursed.”

He looked up at Richard, into his brother’s eyes, and knew at last why Mother had been so insistent he stay silent, “But I was wrong. Mother was protecting me, and you. If Grandfather knew I had a soulmate, he would have hunted the world for them, and then used them against me.”

Damian did not think he could have stood having Richard in danger because of him. He hated the very thought that anything would happen to his brother. Especially because of him.

He sipped his drink again, “Mother used to rub her wrist. I saw a mark there once. A little bat. I never asked her about it, and she never offered to tell me--Richard? Do the marks have special meaning? Or are they obscure?”

“They do have a meaning, there’s a lot of meaning in their placement and look and well everything.”

“Teach me?”

His brother smiled, “Of course. I’d be happy to.”

They worked their way through their mugs, and second rounds while Richard spoke. He talked about how soul marks that were hidden usually meant that the relationship was more intimate, but not always. How marks mirrored each other, one on the left, one on the right so that the pair could be face to face and match, like looking in a mirror. How if one’s soulmate died the mark faded to be almost invisible or if their relationship broke and shattered how it would line with cracks.

“Just because someone has a soulmate doesn’t mean that things will work out perfectly. We are human after all.” Richard said.

Some people could be born without marks, and very rarely one would change, and shift to take on the form of another. Most often that happened if a soulmate had died, but sometimes it happened for other reasons.

“And the meaning?” Damian pressed, wanting to know, to understand why a feather? Why this mark on his skin and not something else?

His brother hummed, “There’s books and stuff out on their meanings, especially for marks of similar styles. But when it all comes down to it, the meaning really comes from the pair. Some people know instantly why a mark looks the way it does. A shared memory or love of something. Maybe it is the first line a lover traced across another’s wrist, or an idea that is important to them.”

He leaned forward, elbow on the bar’s counter, “Want to take a guess at ours?”

Damian furrowed his brow, “Robin?” he guessed, “or your previous title, Nightwing is indicative of a bird and flight?”

Richard nodded, “Those are good thoughts. I’ve always looked at it as a symbol of flying and of freedom. But feathers have other meanings too. Trust, loyalty, hope, a connection between the creature who had the feather and where it has gone now.”

“I like those.” Damian said, and then looked down at his mug, “You have given me many of those things.”

“And you’ve done the same for me.” Richard said, “We don’t need to name why it is a feather you know. We can feel the meaning here.” he pressed a palm to his heart, “and just know.”

Damian nodded, “I am glad I share it with you. And--I am glad I did not know before now.”

His brother frowned, then nodded, “I see, if you did, and we’d have seen each other’s marks, then you might have thought our relationship was because of the soul mark?”

“Is that silly?” he said, peering up.

“No. It’s a worry a lot of people have.” Richard reached out and took Damian’s free hand, “But soul marks don’t make relationships Damian. They just indicate potential, and while they are incredibly accurate in that indication, it’s up to us what we do with it.”

Damian squeezed Richard’s hand, “I see. We are--doing well?”

Richard laughed, “I’d say so. We had a rough start, but yes, Dames. I think we’re doing just fine.”

Damian smiled, “Excellent. Thank you for answering my questions.”

“Of course.” His brother stretched, “Now, it’s later than either of us should be up. We can chat more tomorrow.”

“Yes.” Damian said.

They got up, rinsed their cups and moved to the hall with the bedrooms. Damian paused, hesitating before he entered his own.

“I was planning to suggest we take the night off patrol, but our injuries have cemented that. Perhaps we can return to the park tomorrow?” he said.

Richard smiled, “Sounds like a plan.” In a motion he tugged Damian forward into a tight hug and pressed a kiss to his forehead, “Love you, kiddo.”

Damian returned the hug, “You as well.”

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Epilogue)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 3498 Warnings: fluff

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: This is it 🥺🥺 I’m so sad we’re at the end but I couldn’t be happier by all of your reactions, even when things weren’t at their best I loved hearing your screams. Now we can all cry together as we say goodbye. Thank you so much for reading their story. Btw I started a Patreon for those who would like to support me. 

HEY NEIGHBOR PART 25 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

Breath fogs the window as you stare out of it, a grey haze has rolled over the city, the sky a sunless landscape of thick clouds and cold winds. It snowed the other day and what remains on the streets has become soot covered or murky slush. It’s nicer to stare at the white dusting on the branches of the trees below, taking in the soft peace of the afternoon.

The world has grown quieter over the past few weeks, your world at least. You can’t say the same for the hoards of people in Times Square, packed like sardines as they count down the hours for the ball to drop.

Graduation was behind you. Nearly two weeks ago you finally crossed that stage to receive your diploma. Technically the real one was still coming in the mail but it’s the symbolism that counted. All of your friends cheered as your name was called, tears of joy and relief welling up in your eyes as you did it– you finally did it!

Wanda hugged you tight afterwards, both of you letting your tears fall. She adjusted your graduation cap, decorated with a lightning bolt for Pietro. It was the first thing you did when you received your garments, to make sure a part of him was with you on such an important day. You left her arms for Peggy and Steve’s, then Sam, Natasha and Clint and then there was Bucky.

He grabbed his crutches, lifting himself up from the chair though you didn’t make him walk. A few steps closed the gap between you and you held him, your arms securing around him as a precaution as he balanced on one leg.

His smile was so beautiful as he murmured, “I’m so proud of you,” holding his gaze before you kissed tenderly, humming against his lips.

You’ve been dating ever since that day in the hospital and life couldn’t be better, especially since you and Bucky laid out some terms. From now on you would always be honest with each other, never holding back your feelings. You were a team who loved and respected each other to talk and more importantly listen.

Bucky managed well on crutches but there were still things he couldn’t do, taking for granted days he could have gone outside for a walk. Sure he had muscles, but his arms were killing him, especially on the days he had to go to the doctor for a checkup. He started physical therapy too, to keep up with strength and flexibility for the rest of his body.

It was exhausting but you were there to help him almost every step of the way. Showering was a pain though Bucky insisted on some independence, wrapping up his cast as he sat on a cold plastic chair that extended over the tub. It made him feel like he had aged 80 years but he got over it.

You did what you could to help him heal but the greatest comfort Bucky found was when you were cuddling together. He cherished those moments the most, when you held him, resting your head against his chest, or when his head was in your lap as he stretched across his couch, your fingers lazily combing through his hair.

It was the quiet moments together, crossing the threshold of intimacy in new ways. This was the slowest Bucky has ever gone since he was in middle school, swallowing a nervous gulp before asking if it was okay to hold a girl’s hand.

Life after had been a blur; his guard up, women in and out, no chance to settle, in and out, no connection, faces blend together, names are nothing more than letters on his phone for a good time, in and out. It was all noise, a constant buzzing in his head until you came into his life.

You’ve opened Bucky’s ears and the noise became sweet music. You’ve opened his heart, the melody it sings is a love song and he’s soaring. He doesn’t waste time on regrets, instead he spends each and every day getting to know you and love you in new ways.  

You celebrated Thanksgiving together, with his parents coming to your apartment so Bucky didn’t have to travel. George brought most of the food over, it wasn’t barbecue but it was just as delicious. And this year you had the time to bake a pumpkin pie.

Your days were spent working at The September Foundation up until graduation. Elena hired you for Metro-General and you start there on the first Monday of the new year. Ideally, you’d like to still volunteer when you can and knowing Tony it’s something he fully supported. Things couldn’t be better.

“Doll, are you ready?”

Bucky’s voice pulled you away from the window and you climb off his bed and into his waiting arms. The basketball shorts he wears reveals his skinny left leg, paler than the other thanks to the dry flakiness he’s still working on remedying. He was in a cast for almost three months and just got it off a few days ago. You went with him, holding his hand as he beared weight on his weak muscle after so long.

He just finished the strengthening exercises he was supposed to do every day and now he needed to shower. You both did actually since tonight was Natasha and Clint’s annual New Year’s Eve party. You pull your shirt off, tossing it somewhere behind you and Bucky follows you to the bathroom. He can shower without his seat now but it doesn’t mean he didn’t want help and you happily obliged. The water ran cold by the time you actually finished and you really didn’t mind at all. Now that Bucky’s cast was off you were looking forward to getting even more physical again.

Though you showered at his place you finished getting ready at yours since you could. Living next door to your boyfriend was obviously convenient. You were able to be together and still have the space you needed. For now it worked though you can see yourself moving in together. A smile stretches across your face when you think of it, Bucky playing his music, no walls in between, a far cry from how things began.

You open your closet to find a dress that would work for the theme of this year’s party which they claimed was winter except they asked all their guests to wear either red or green. You bit your tongue, thinking that sounded more Christmas than winter but you didn’t argue, it wasn’t your party. You pulled out a crimson colored dress that had a beautiful lace overlay. The back was sheer and though it was a little short you felt it was seasonally appropriate with its long sleeves. You finished your hair and makeup, finishing off with gold chandelier earrings and peep-toe heels.

A rhythmic knock rapped at your door and you knew it was Bucky. Opening the door your jaw dropped. Maybe it was the fact that you had mostly seen him in shorts and sweatpants over the last three months, and not that he didn’t make those look good, but the outfit he was wearing now looked incredible. He looked sharp in a juniper green suit with a soft tartan design, a brighter green patterned tie stood out against his light shirt. His shoes were dark brown with a hint of mahogany that reflected in the light and even though he looked amazing you were surprised he didn’t opt for sneakers to be more comfortable with his leg.

“Fuck, you look beautiful,” he spoke first, biting his lip as he looked at you up and down.

He shaved since you left him and your hands went to cup the smooth skin of his cheek. “Not more beautiful than you.”

You pressed your lips to Bucky’s, deepening the kiss with your tongue which was probably a bad idea since it only increased your urge to rip Bucky’s suit off and take him right there. You forced yourself back from him, walking towards your couch to grab your bag.

Bucky followed you as quickly as he could considering walking still felt a little strange. His arms went around your waist pulling you closer to him as his lips began to kiss your cheek, trailing down your neck. You hummed in delight, exhaling stuttered breaths, almost losing yourself to his touch before you pulled yourself out of it.

“We can’t,” you stressed, reluctantly. “We’re gonna be late, come on.”

He sighed acceptingly, waiting for you to unplug your phone and grab your keys. Just before you were ready to leave his arms wrapped around your waist one more time and Bucky spoke before you could say anything.

“I love you, Y/N.”

The swell of your heart reached your lips as you gazed into Bucky’s eyes repeating the same words you’ve known and felt for so long. After another sweet kiss you locked up your place to take the long trip up one flight.

Clint greeted you at the door, his arms pulling you and Bucky into warm welcoming hugs. Unlike his guests, Clint was dressed in a white suit jacket, with black pants and a matching bow tie. He welcomed you into the apartment that was not filled with as many people as you expected.

There were familiar faces in your friends, including Sam who was able to take off this year. Right away Bucky teased him about his red suit calling him Elmo.

“Yeah whatever Kermit. And what about this one?” Sam teased, pointing at Steve. “That’s all you had?”

Steve blushed pink, feeling insecure about his outfit choice, a cozy forest green cable-knit sweater. “Like I’m supposed to have a fruit punch suit in my closet?”

“It’s cranberry and I look good,” Sam declared, smoothing his hands down the front of his jacket.

You let the boys continue to have fun as you said hello to Wanda and Peggy, both looking beautiful in their dresses. “Where’s Natasha?”

They shook their heads. “Haven’t seen her,” Wanda said, heading towards their marble island to grab a drink.

It was decorated with a row of mason jars, each filled a quarter of the way with coarse sugar mimicking crystal snow, with a candle in every other one and a chunk of bright red cranberries and sprays of cedar leaves sticking out of the others.

“But we just got here, so I dunno,” she finished.

You were looking around for familiar guests, surely the partners of her law firm would be coming again. An older woman sat on the couch talking to another unfamiliar face, the back of their heads glowing thanks to the curtain of twinkle lights that decorated the large walls of the living room. In the corner was their Christmas tree, a tall spruce decorated with frosted pine cone garland, matte red ornaments and thick burlap ribbon.

Clint brushed passed you, kneeling in front of the older woman who looked curiously familiar. Nervous energy was pouring off of him, from the way he kept chewing his nails to the constant tremble of his leg. He smiled as he passed you again standing near the door. With Natasha still not in sight you decided to do a little digging, by way of introducing yourself.

You walked over to the woman Clint had been speaking to, standing in front of her and the two people she was mid-conversation with. The man was big, his Santa-like belly was testing the buttons of his red shirt as it stretched across the material. His eyebrows were bushy and his brown hair was long in the front, looking a little messy as if it had been brushed through with only his fingers. He had a long beard that matched the color of his hair though it had a lot more grey in it.

The woman was beautiful. The emerald top she wore brought out the green flecks of her hazel eyes and her red lips drew you right into her beautiful smile. Her dark hair was braided with a crown, the rest of the locks falling onto her shoulders.

You caught their attention, extending your hand with a smile as you introduced yourself. The older woman spoke first, her voice as soft as a songbird as she told you her name, Edith, followed by the fact that she was Clint’s mother. Well, that explains it. You see the similarities now, the glasses she wore didn’t hide the fact that they shared the same eyes. Even her mouth was the same, thin lips that grew into the same beaming smile.

“I’m Melina,” the beautiful woman said with a Russian accent. “This is Alexei.” She pointed to the man who smiled at you. His grip was strong as he took your hand in his meaty paw. “We’re like family to Natalia,” he grinned proudly.

“It’s so nice to meet you all!” you said, sitting beside them to talk all while in the back of your mind your brain was working to put together why they were here. Sure it’s a holiday but family members have never come to Clint and Natasha’s for New Years before. In fact, Natasha doesn’t even have family. The only “family” you knew of would have to come from Russia to–

Holy shit.

You find an acceptable way out of the conversation, rushing over to Bucky and pulling him away from his conversation. Your hands are jittering with excited energy, eyes as wide as your mouth is open.

“Bucky, don’t you see what this is?!”

He looks confused for a moment before his attention is diverted. Bucky looks past you to another unfamiliar person that walked in. It’s a man with brown skin dressed in all black. A dark goatee framed his face and the straps of an eye patch secure comfortably around his hairless head. Though Bucky tried not to stare he couldn’t help but notice the veining of scars stretching out across his temple and cheek. He stands tall and silent with his arms clasped behind his back waiting.

Clint cleared his throat, a nervous smile settling on his face. “Now that everyone’s here I’d like to welcome you to… our wedding.”

Gasps of surprise fill the room with everyone rushing up towards Clint as he tries to field questions, hoping no one was truly mad at the abrupt announcement. “I knew it,” you whispered under your breath, gently slapping at Bucky’s arm.

The man in black walked towards the front of the living room, clearly the officiate who asked everyone to get settled as they were about to begin. Clint knocked once on his bedroom door, before taking his place beside the man who introduced himself as Nick.

A young woman with blonde hair slipped out of the door. She nodded to him, cracking a hint of a smile before she settled next to Melina. A moment later everyone’s eyes were drawn to the sound of the bedroom door creaking open again.

Natasha stepped out looking like a dream, in a floor length shimmering ivory gown that showed off her well sculpted shoulders with its high halter neckline, embellished with beautiful beading. She clutched a delicate bouquet of white roses and winter greens with cranberry sprigs woven throughout. Natasha walked up to Clint without fanfare, just the audible sighs of those around her admiring the back of her dress, dazzling and tasteful cut outs that showed off more of her toned body. The fabric cinched above the small of her back, a small train sweeping around her feet.

She handed her bouquet off to the blonde girl, her “sister” you presumed, remembering an old conversation with Clint. Brushing back a loose tendril from her face, Natasha smiled widely as she stared at Clint, bringing her hands forward to connect with his.

Nick began speaking and you took out your phone to capture a quick picture as the impromptu ceremony began. Bucky’s hand found yours, lacing your fingers together as you watched your friends exchange their vows.

Clint’s hands communicated his words in sync as he spoke them. “Natasha, what more can I say to the person that knows me better than I know myself. Because of you the sun shines a little brighter each day, flowers have a sweeter fragrance and my heart is filled with treasured memories. Even the not so great ones like that time in Budapest that I know we remember very differently.”

A chuckle simmers amongst the small crowd and Natasha dips her head down to laugh.

“Because of you my heart found a home, and like my stomach, it will never be empty...” Clint smiled, taking Natasha’s hands in his. “...because it will always be filled with your love, a love that I promise you I will never let go.”

Natasha sniffs, brushing aside a tear as she gathers her thoughts. “Clint, you’ve given me a second chance in life, you’ve shown me what friendship and love truly mean. I promise to trust and respect you and give you the best of myself. I promise to always fight for you, never against you, to be by your side through whatever life brings. I promise to make sure we always have snacks in the house and to clean up all the stains from your shirts when you drop food on them.”

Clint’s shoulders shrugged with acceptance as he chuckled under his breath, “It happens a lot.”

“Yes it does,” Natasha repeated, smiling wider. She exhaled a deep breath before continuing. “I promise to love you through the good times and bad and to choose our love every single day. You are my best friend, my soulmate and I'm the luckiest person on Earth to be able to call you mine.”

You felt Bucky press a kiss to your temple, leaning his head against you as the ceremony continued. When it was time Alexei dug into his pocket, pulling out the rings. With Nick’s concluding words Natasha wrapped her arms around Clint’s neck, and his held her waist; their love sealed with a kiss as everyone cheered in celebration.

They pulled back from each other, Clint resting his forehead against Natasha’s. He brought his hand up, bending his middle and ring finger into his palm. Natasha did the same, their fingertips touching as they signed “I love you” before turning to face their friends and family.

Edith was the first to hug the newly married couple who made their way through everyone until they got to you. Bucky and Clint hugged as he congratulated them. “I can’t believe this.”

“I can.” Natasha laughed, pressing her cheek to Bucky’s as they hugged. She moved to you and you wrapped your arms around her tightly. “We’ve been planning this wedding for so long it was never going to happen unless we did it this way.”

“It was perfect,” you said, pulling back from your hug with a huge smile. “Congratulations, I’m so happy for you both.”

As the night went on you formally met Yelena, the blonde who Natasha grew up with, and learned about her exciting work. You were in similar fields as she worked to free people of human trafficking, mostly young girls that were to be indoctrinated into radical terrorist groups for forced marriage or even espionage.

Her work was more hands-on as she physically raided underground bunkers or warehouses. It made you feel like you weren’t doing enough even though you knew that wasn’t true. All the years spent working towards your goal reaffirmed that, and in just a few days you’ll officially move into your office in Metro-General, across from Elena’s as you begin doing what you’ve always wanted to do, help people.

You’re lost in a comfortable stare as you look at the Christmas tree, realizing the countdown to midnight had begun.

Ten! Nine! Eight! ...

You turn around, looking for Bucky in the small room that was crowded with everyone standing so close together, huddled around the TV that showed the view from Times Square.

Seven! Six ...

The shimmering ball was descending and you were alone until….

Five! Four! ...

“Hey neighbor…” A voice called and you spun around relieved. Bucky smiled, bringing you close into his arms.

Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!

He leaned in, his lips hovering above yours, pausing as you spoke above the roar of cheers. “Have I ever told you how happy I am that you moved in here?” you purred.

“Every day. It’s like music to my ears.”

Bucky smiled tenderly, sealing the small gap between you, kissing you softly as he poured all the love from his heart out and into yours. Your hearts beat to the rhythm of your own symphony, a song that had a rocky beginning of notes that stretched high and low, but now it was a steady ballad you would continue to create together with your love.

[yuta-nakamots]

crush - n.jm

Pairing - Jaemin x Reader

Genre - High School!AU, Fluff, Angst

Warnings - None (if you feel that I should add a warning please lmk)

Summary - Na Jaemin was the boy who had protected you from bullies, let you copy his homework, shared his snacks with you, and practically doted on you like a mother. It would only make sense for you to develop a crush on him though not all loves are meant to last, especially when your overbearing feelings crush themselves.

Word Count - 5.3k

A/N - Bolded phrases are song lyrics taken from Crush by Tessa Violet.

Taglist - @ukiyoneo​ @badwithten @yasmini24 @luvlyjaemin​ @jimjamjaemin​ @loeygotospacenow

Written for the Summertime Tunes Collab hosted by @mismatchmark​ and @croissanct​. Also part of the NeoWinter Festival hosted by @czennienet​.

Song: Crush by Tessa Violet. Color - Pink.

“I swear the answer for the last question was the Mandela effect,” you exclaimed, “you know, the one where you think you remember something but it’s totally different?”

Jaemin’s infectious laugh filled the interior of the car. “No no no, I think you’re mistaken,” he wagged a finger at you without taking his eyes off the road, “the question wasn’t asking about the memory of an individual, it was asking about the memory of a group, like a large mass of witnesses to a crime.”

A cold wave of despair hit you when you realized that you utterly screwed up on the largest question on your first exam of senior year. It was such an easy question yet you carelessly answered it, just wanting to go home as soon as the bell rang. That and getting to be with Jaemin, whom you’ve been crushing on since sophomore year.

You and Jaemin actually hadn’t become friends on your own terms. The two of you first met as freshmen and had to work on a group project in history together and that’s when you got his number. You didn’t talk to him for the rest of the year though. Then in sophomore year, again, you had the luck of being with him for a project, though this time it was just the two of you and it was for chemistry instead.

“Ooh, let’s do an experiment with salt,” Jaemin suggested as you gave him a questioning look, “it’s part of my nickname.”

“What? Salt? People call you salt?” You were utterly at a loss for words.

He shook his head, “no, didn’t you know? My nickname is Nana, from Na Jaemin...like N-A? Salt? Get it?”

You let out a slight wheeze when you understood what he was getting at. “Yeah, okay, we can do one with salt as long as it’s not too complicated.”

He had chosen to do an experiment on finding what method of food preservation kept produce fresh the longest, and salt was one of them. Your classmates ended up choosing your project as the most creative since they were all amused by the way Jaemin had placed pictures of himself around the section of the presentation board relating to the effectiveness of the salt treatment.

Ever since then, whenever there was a project in any of the classes you shared with Jaemin, he’d always gravitate towards you and ask you to be his partner. Eventually, after being assigned a large physics project, the two of you were deciding whose house to do the experiment at, and after sharing addresses, both of you realized that you lived only two blocks away from each other.

Just to keep things safe, it was agreed that the experiment would be done at Jaemin’s house under the supervision of his older brother who majored in something in the science field and volunteered to look after you guys and make sure no one died. The walks to his house weren’t awkward, in fact, they were quite fun and interesting considering how talkative Jaemin was. Even after your project was completed, he’d continue walking with you since your house was on the way to his.

In junior year, the two of you drifted apart as you both found your own friend groups and started hanging out with them more but in senior year, Jaemin pulled you both back together when he called you in the morning to ask if you’d like a ride to school.

“I mean, yeah sure I guess.” You had responded as you finished packing your bag. What you expected was for him to pull up in the passenger seat of his brother’s black car, the loud J-Rock music vibrating the frame of it. What you didn’t expect was for Jaemin to be the one driving the car, his older brother nowhere in sight. “Y-you can drive?!”

“Yeah, got my license over summer.” He replied nonchalantly, taking a bite of a small sandwich wrapped in Starbucks napkins. “My brother graduated early and went to Japan for grad school so he said I can use his car once I get licensed. Pretty cool, right?”

When you finally looked at him after getting into the passenger seat, you realized just how much he was starting to change. You had noticed his voice getting lower and the way his shoulders seemed to be broader but now even his face seemed to be slightly sharper and more mature. “Hey, answer me,” he said, interrupting your trance, “just because my brother’s gone doesn’t mean you can give me those sad eyes because you had a crush on him and didn’t get the chance to tell him.”

“I do not have a crush on your brother,” you began as Jaemin drove you to school, “that’s so gross, he’s like a whole five years older than me.”

“Mmhmm, I literally heard you tell June that you liked him.”

“I didn’t, I swear.” The truth is, the day he had heard you, you were telling your friend June about your crush on Jaemin before your shared trigonometry class and he had just so happened to come into the classroom early that day and overheard the tail end of it where his name was mentioned. June had covered it up by saying that you had a crush on his older brother, which you went along with since you didn’t want Jaemin to know that it was actually him that you were talking about. Hopefully one day you’d get to tell him this story and laugh about how childish you were, but for now, you kept to yourself.

From that day on, Jaemin made sure to take you to school and back once the day was over, insisting that it only makes sense since your houses are so close to each other. It’s not like you were really complaining though because it meant more time for you to be with him.

A week before homecoming, Jaemin came to pick you up in the morning as usual, his car slick from the morning dew that was on the roads. He waved at you as you came down your driveway, unlocking the door for you. “How’s my princess doing on this fine morning?” He asks once you open the door and place your bag inside.

“Tired.” You state plainly. “Nearly slept through my alarm.”

“Would you like some coffee?” He looks down at his coffee that blends in with the black coloring of the console and seats. You make a face of disgust at him, scrunching up your nose and mocking the action of vomiting. “Alright, okay, I get it.” He laughs out as you buckle yourself in.

After you were comfortably seated in Jaemin’s car, there was a calming silence as he pulled away from the curb and navigated his way out of your neighborhood. The silence was only broken when he stopped under a fresh red light, prepared to wait for a bit. “So the homecoming dance is coming up,” you let out a short hum to acknowledge him while scrolling through social media, “do you have someone that you’re planning on going with?”

You shook your head, “I have someone in mind but I don’t know if they’d want to go with me.”

“Oh, who is it?” Jaemin asks as the light turns green, signaling for him to make the pass through the intersection.

“It’s you.” Turning to look at him, you see his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pursed together. “Would you like to go with me to the homecoming dance?” The mere seconds it took him to respond to your question felt like hours but you didn’t mind, not when he looked so handsome and relaxed in the driver’s seat, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the center console.

You make it difficult to not overthink

His hesitation was evident but eventually, he replied, “sure, I’ll go with you.”

The dress you wore was a pretty shade of pink, one that complemented your skin tone nicely and Jaemin wore a matching pink button-down shirt paired with black ripped jeans which you were sure he stole from his brother’s closet. Your friends nicely complimented your outfits and asked when the two of you would be official, at which both of you replied “it’s not like that” or “I don’t like them that way” or some other variation of it.

June looked at you knowingly from the other side of the table every time that happened, knowing how badly you hoped for his words to be only a front he was putting up and that maybe, just maybe, he thought of you as more than a friend. But the little hope you had was put to rest when Yunhee, one of the girls from his friend group, came by and pulled him away, telling him that Jeno, his best friend, wanted to take group pictures together.

Jaemin didn’t return to the table until the winner of the homecoming spirit trophy was about to be announced. He shared a look of excitement with you as both of you did a drumroll on the table before Haechan, the student body president yelled out, “the seniors, class of 2018, are the winners of this year’s homecoming spirit trophy!” Jaemin jumped out of his seat and hugged you out of joy before running off to celebrate with the rest of his friends at their table.

Again, he did not return until the lights were dimmed and the music volume was raised. “Would you like to dance, m’lady?” He asked as he held his hand out for you to take. The rest of your friends let out giggles at the gesture and cooed when you placed your hand in his and followed him to the dance floor.

He let go of your hand as the two of you faced each other and started moving to the beat of ‘Let’s Fall in Love for the Night’ while mouthing the words to each other. With every line mouthed, you felt your heart swell for Jaemin because it was as if this song were written for the two of you.

“You look absolutely beautiful tonight.” He told you as the song slowed down.

“I can say the same for you too.” Your eyes met him as you smiled at him.

His smile mirrored yours with the same playful affection. “Then why don’t you?”

You weren’t even given the chance to do so when Yunhee appeared once again, placing a hand on his shoulder and turning him in the direction of where the other nominees for homecoming court were gathering. “They’re announcing the winners, come on,” she informed him as she began pulling him away, “you look good tonight though, you too, y/n, I guess.”

Yunhee had always been playing some sick passive-aggressive game with you and you never understood why. Jaemin encouraged you to just brush it off every time it happened, but you simply couldn’t, not when it has continued for three years now. You were about to open your mouth and say something back to her but you held yourself back, not wanting to sour the mood for everyone else.

Without Jaemin dancing with you and not knowing if the rest of your friends were on the dance floor, you returned to your table just as Haechan stepped out to announce the winners of the homecoming court. June came to sit next to you, occupying Jaemin’s seat as you laughed at the way her makeup was slightly smudged from when she accidentally rubbed her eye. “I’m glad I can still make you laugh.” She said as she gave you a sad smile, already having you like an open book.

The two of you became engrossed in a conversation about how hard it was to do your hair and makeup earlier, effectively drowning out the naming and cheers for the winners of the court until one name was able to make your heart stop. “Na Jaemin.” You turned around in your seat to see as Jaemin was crowned homecoming king and went to stand alongside Yunhee, who smiled at him as she donned a similar crown, making her his queen.

June took you home that night, leaving behind her own date for you as you struggled to hold back your tears, seeing Jaemin dance with another girl. “It’s just for homecoming, he probably doesn’t even like her that much.” June reassured while rubbing your back. You wanted so badly to believe her but there was just something inside you that wouldn’t allow you to do so.

Homecoming passed quickly, though not quickly enough for your liking, and as much as you were glad to put some distance between that night, you weren’t as glad to be swamped with work again. You were supposed to be thinking about how Pavlov experimented with classical conditioning yet you were the one feeling classically conditioned to think about Jaemin.

He occupied your mind whenever you weren’t extremely focused on something. Everything you thought about brought you back to him. Even now, you debated on whether it would be a good idea or not to classically train him to like you.

I can’t focus on what needs to get done

Your phone buzzed from its spot on your desk, plucking you from your experimental daydream, only to send you on a rollercoaster as you read the notification on your screen.

nana > y/n

7:31pm: wanna go get food with me?

y/n > nana

7:31pm: right now?

nana > y/n

7:31pm: yeah

y/n > nana

7:31pm: sure, i’ll be ready in a bit

nana > y/n

7:32pm: thank god cuz i’m outside already

You figured your psychology notes could wait for a bit, especially when the reason was Jaemin. With finals coming up soon and the impending doom of graduation and college, you wanted to make the most of every moment you had with him, even if it was nights spent getting McDonald’s and eating it at an elementary school playground, seated side by side at the top of the slide while looking at the stars.

“I wonder why people say ‘shooting stars’ and ‘falling like the stars’ because they can’t do both, right?” Jaemin pondered through a mouthful of french fries.

“Stars don’t fall, silly.” You remarked, truly questioning how he had such good grades in his classes yet didn’t seem to know such trivial things.

He continued staring up at the night sky before responding. “Well if they did, I think I’d be one of them.”

You looked at him, entertaining his wonderings while sipping some Sprite. “Oh? Now, why is that?”

“Because I think I’ve fallen for you.”

Your mouth opened ever so slightly out of shock and you felt as if you were frozen when he took the drink out of your hands, placing it gently behind the two of you before putting a hand on your jaw, holding your steady as he gave you your first kiss.

When he pulled away, you were still having trouble processing what just happened and left him hanging, but in a few seconds you had one hand on his shoulder, the other on his cheek as you pulled him in to kiss him for real this time. Jaemin let out a noise of surprise though he quickly recovered and his lips began moving with the shape of yours.

You immediately felt insecure from how confident he seemed, thinking that he probably already had prior experience, so you pulled away, not wanting to embarrass yourself if he thought you were a bad kisser. Both of you pulled away, slightly out of breath.

“Was I your first kiss?” He asked. You nodded in response, looking anywhere but at him. “Good, because you were mine.” Your eyebrows raised in shock and you turned to him, only for his lips to meet yours once again.

And I’m just tryna play it cool now

The two of you stayed at the playground for what could have easily been another hour talking about your futures and kissing each other. It was then that the two of you found a common college on both of your lists of possible schools and agreed to go there if both of you got in. When Jaemin dropped you off later that night, he sent you off with one last kiss and a smile, reminding you to study for your psychology final next week.

The in-class reviews for the said exam could’ve easily been thrown out the window for you since all you did was stare at Jaemin from the other side of the room. June asked you and your friends something about mental maps but the only mental map you were creating was that of the house you’d live in with Jaemin someday.

But I could be your crush...throw you for a rush

Even during the final exam itself, you couldn’t help but glance over at him and think about how handsome he was. It was only when one of your friends sneezed and Jaemin looked over to say ‘bless you’ that you averted your eyes back to the papers in front of you, not wanting him to catch you in your daydreams.

And I’m pretending you ain’t on my mind

But with the wrapping up of your classes and all the finals being taken, it also signaled the end of the semester and the start of winter break, which Jaemin would be spending in Japan visiting his older brother. When he left, it felt like he took a piece of you with him. He was always on your mind and you practically glued to your phone, anxiously waiting for a message from him. To be fair, he did promise to update you at least once a day on all the fun things he did.

Hoping you’d text me

You were the first like and comment on all of his social media updates, unashamedly. The most recent being a video of him and his older brother having a snowball fight at the ski resort they were visiting.

In the video, Jaemin threw a snowball at his brother who let out a yell in surprise, his dyed-blue hair now covered in white. “Hey! Come back here!” He yelled as he knelt to the ground, gathering his own snowball to throw back at Jaemin.

Jaemin ran away to a small stack of snowballs, giggling as he grabbed another one and launched it again at his brother, only angering him further. “How about you respect your elders, huh?” His brother shouted as he threw his first snowball at Jaemin, which would’ve hit him square in the face if he didn’t turn around as fast as he did.

“No headshots, you bully!” He pouted, rubbing the spot the snowball hit, just to be hit twice more by his brother. “Hey, I’m injured!”

“Now you know how I feel playing PUBG with you, kid.” His brother shot back.

na.jaemin0813 - he put up a good fight but i think i won

ynn0018 - you definitely did. I miss you tho :’( come home soon pls

You checked the post again when he replied to your comment and read through some of the other comments, feeling jealous when you see that he also replied to the other girls who left messages though you quickly eased yourself when you say that he gave you the longest response with the most emojis.

na.jaemin0813 > ynn0018 - i miss you too 😘😘 i’ll be back sooner than you know it <3

Jaemin stayed true to his word, texting you every day, and making sure you weren’t too bored without him. He filmed his own short little vlogs and sent them to you throughout the day and did a longer video at the end of the day as he got ready for bed. You’d watch them whenever you got bored or thought of him and the days didn’t seem all that long without him physically there with you.

When Jaemin returned from Japan and the break ended, the two of you were the closest you’ve ever been. You did nearly everything together like eating lunch, studying for tests, even facetiming each other while doing homework though neither of you really spoke much.

Thanks to Jaemin being so overprepared and not wanting to live in his brother’s shadows, his early application to colleges motivated you to do the same and within the first month of the year, both of you had acceptance letters to the school where you could chase your dreams together and not have to risk doing a long-distance relationship. If fate and soulmates truly existed, you knew this would be it.

The third quarter of the school year goes by quickly, the rest of your friends receiving their acceptance letters after you and slowly announcing their future schools and plans after graduation. Things felt like they were falling into place, just the way they should be and you thought you could never be happier.

During spring break, you and Jaemin even took your senior portraits together at the local botanical garden, the sunset behind the flowers turning the sky a fiery shade of pink. “I want to see more of these sunsets with you,” Jaemin admits after you both decide you’re satisfied with how the pictures came out, “Japan has these same types of sunsets and I wish you were there to see them with me.”

“Let’s go then,” you tell him, excited as you imagine the sight of you and him traveling the world and watching many more beautiful sunsets, “after we graduate, let’s go to Japan, just the two of us. We can visit your brother too and he can even be our tour guide.”

You’re my permanent vacation

From then on, both of you vowed to ‘grow up’ a little more to show your parents that you could be trusted to travel on your own. One of the biggest things you set out to do was to get your license, which of course Jaemin is initially against but eventually comes to terms with and becomes your biggest supporter, letting your drive the two of you to school and home on days when traffic wasn’t too heavy. Of course, you couldn’t get your license in just a few months but you told yourself you’d get it as soon as you were able to.

At school, prom was drawing nearer which meant promposals were happening left and right. Jaemin hadn’t said anything about going to prom together yet or if he was going at all so you thought it would be nice to turn the tables and do something nice for him since he was the one always driving you places, buying you food, giving you gifts, and just, in general, being the best ‘boyfriend’ you could ask for.

You told June about your plans but she surprisingly warned you against it. “Wait, why shouldn’t I do this? I thought you wanted me to get with Jaemin?” You question, taken aback at how quickly your best friend seemed to have turned on you.

“I do, but I think maybe you should wait a bit.” She reasoned.

“He hasn’t said anything yet though, or even mentioned the word ‘prom’ to me, so I don’t think he’s planning on going.”

“He must have a reason, like what if he doesn’t-”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m trying to get him to go. Because if I ask him, then for sure he’ll say yes, right?” You interrupt.

June pauses. “Well, yeah, he’d probably say yes, but like, keep in mind that you guys aren’t even official so there’s no guarantee.”

You roll your eyes at her. “Whatever. I thought you were supposed to be my best friend and support me no matter what.”

“Y/n, no, that’s not what I meant-”

“Save it, I don’t want to hear it.”

You stuck your ground and went home that day, ready to think up a cheesy pick-up line and design a poster asking Jaemin to prom. The day after that, you put the first part of your plan into motion and created the poster, drawing out your message in big, bold lettering and coloring them pink.

‘If I were a star, I’d be a falling star because I’ve fallen for you. Prom?’

You waited until Thursday to buy a bouquet of flowers after school, telling Jaemin that you needed to pick something up from the store and he could just drop you off there. You also told him that your parents were cool with letting you drive one of their cars so you didn’t need a ride to school on Friday morning. The second of which was harder to convince him of, but you did it nonetheless.

And I’m not tryna be with you now

You came to school, rushing to store the flowers and poster in your locker so that Jaemin doesn’t see them. The adrenaline doesn’t leave your body until after the first period ends, your mind already overwhelmed from being a TA and having to deal with freshmen for an hour.

When you arrive at your psychology class, you excitedly tell June about your plans for the day and how you were going to ask Jaemin to prom after school gets out, which she makes a face at. “Okay, now tell me, what is going on with you and your aversion to me asking Jaemin to prom?”

“Look, I’m not against it,” she began, her eyes drifting off to somewhere else, “it’s just that…”

“What, June, what could it possibly be?” You spit, getting angry at how your own best friend didn’t want to see you happy.

Her eyes snapped back to your face. “You know what? If you’re so intent on doing it, fine. I won’t stop you. I told you that I support you and Jaemin together so I don’t get why you’re so upset.”

Just as you were about to fire back, Jaemin walked through the door with Jeno so you quickly changed your expression to smile at him before muttering to June “I’m going to ask him to prom and prove that whatever you’re hiding from me is wrong.”

The next two periods seemed to drag by, you just wanted the day to go faster so you could finally do what you’ve been waiting for. During lunch you went to your usual spot, shaded underneath a tree by the cafeteria, pulling out your homework as you wait for Jaemin when you suddenly hear a commotion happening on the other side of the building.

Out of curiosity, you stood up and walked over just enough to get a glimpse of what was happening in the large ring of students. There were two people. Jaemin and Yunhee. You watched as Jaemin held open his own poster asking Yunhee to prom and you see her nod her head before pulling him in for a hug.

Any hope you previously had was crushed.

You didn’t feel like doing anything productive for the rest of the day. Instead of staying under the protection of the large tree, you packed up your belongings and went to your last class of the day, waiting for lunch to end. It was a study hall anyway so you figured you might as well get a head start at being unproductive for an hour.

Scrolling through social media didn’t help your cause in the slightest. Jaemin’s promposal was everywhere. But he and Yunhee posted about it, everyone who had recorded the event posted it on their stories, comments were flying left and right and it was all too much.

When you got home that day, you turned off your phone for the first time since god knows when and set to working on all your assignments just to keep your mind off of him. Even the mention of his name seemed taboo now. Once you deemed that enough schoolwork had been done, you went about cleaning your room and pulled up a ‘summertime tunes’ playlist on youtube to keep your mind occupied though it seemed like the world was against you today when ‘Crush’ started playing.

Maybe if I’m busy it could keep me from you

You shut Jaemin out of your life, blocking his number and his social media accounts. Legally, you could not get your license yet so you settled for having your parents take you to school. In class you sat as far away from him as possible and ditched your lunch spot, instead opting to spend lunch sitting in your next class and you were glad that your teachers didn’t mind you intruding on their break and if they did, they were kind enough to allow you to stay.

Exactly one month after that mistake of a day, you went to prom with your group of friends after patching up your relationship with June, though there was no undoing your harsh words the same way there was no undoing your purchase of the pink prom dress thinking that you’d be going with Jaemin as your date.

Whenever you looked down, you were disgusted by the color, wanting to rip it off of you and never have anything to do with anything pink ever again. Your friends accused you of being a downer the whole night, but you couldn’t help it when you knew Jaemin was probably having the time of his life with Yunhee at their table, Jeno right at his side with his own date.

“Come on, cheer up a bit, you still have us.” June kindly told you.

“I know, it’s just,” you put your head in your hands, careful of your makeup, “this is not the way I dreamt of things going.”

June shook her head. “Well, some dreams are better left as dreams. Just wait, Jaemin will get his karma, I promise you.”

“It better come soon because I’m getting sick of seeing them together.” You nodded over to where he was dancing with Yunhee. You didn’t dare look at them, not wanting to see his stupidly handsome face and his dumb smile or the way she blushed at his compliments and the way her pink nails matched his pink tie.

You left the hotel ballroom that night vowing to yourself that you’d never speak to Na Jaemin again. Your friends fully supported you on this endeavor and your group became the tightest you’ve ever been even if it was only for the last month of your high school career. Graduation came and went, the special night was spent having your own mini party at one of your friends’ house after the ceremony and you might have even had a bit to drink.

Summer felt like an odd daydream of sorts though you were immensely grateful for the break since it allowed you to not have to see Jaemin’s face almost every day of the week. Both of you acted as if the other person didn’t exist and you hoped to keep it that way for a long time. Even when you saw him out of the corner of your eye at freshmen orientation on your college campus, you reminded yourself of the promise you made on prom night.

“Y/n, hey!” He called out to you, walking in your direction.

You looked over at him, giving him a slight smile before turning away and walking off to sit with some of the other people you met earlier while doing some of the icebreaker activities.

Sorry

Some crushes are better kept a crush.

[flamingo-writes]

Heat Waves — Rohan x Reader

Summary: Rohan can’t believe the amount of detail and effort put into the little present you had for him. The amount of love and admiration swelling in his chest drives him to show you how grateful he is in the most tenderof ways. 

Authors Note: This fic is named after the song that got me in the mood to write this, it was also the song I heard to the most while writing/proofreading this. Heat Waves by Glass Animals Why are glass animals songs so sexy aaaaaah

Fun fact: the reader's stand's name is based of this same band.

Word count: 2.8 words

Genre: tender fluffy smut

Warnings: NSFW

Date: nov.29.2020

Rohan was speechless. 

He never thought he'd be falling this hard for someone. And yet, with each new day, you made him fall more and more in love with you. How did you do it? He didn't know. And he didn't want to know either. For once, he didn't want to know the answer behind a question. He wanted to keep it a mystery, and keep the magic going. 

"You like it?" You whispered as Rohan gaze went around his room, noticing every small detail of your installation art. 

Your name escaped his lips in the dreamiest of whispers. 

"This is gorgeous..." He said breathless. 

Several pieces of glass hanging from the ceiling. White and yellow and even golden stained glass hanging from threads from the ceiling. From any point in the room, they just looked like pretty pieces of glass hanging, but in front of Rohan's bed, you could see the real thing the stained glass was painting. 

Heaven's Door. 

Rohan felt so flattered, not only you managed to make an installation art of his Stand, but the tones in the glass were beautiful. The sunlight shining through, only reflected the light in the walls, painting his room in warm golden tones. 

Rohan turned around, his heart beating excitedly on his chest. Oh, how bad he wanted to kiss you. How bad he wanted to hold you, and make you feel as good as you had just made him feel. 

"Babe, this is perfect. I love it" He whispered cupping your face in his hands, and brushed his nose against yours. 

Just how you loved it. 

He still couldn't understand how you hadn't grown tired of him. Everyone did. And to be fair, he did grow tired of everyone else. He liked to hang out with a few people every now and then, but never for too long. 

Not you. 

You leaned closer, pressing your lips against your boyfriend's in a soft melting kiss. A soft melting kiss that soon left Rohan breathless and wanting more. 

When he met you, sure he thought you were pretty. And whenever you both turned out to be at the coffee place at the same time, he'd sketch you from afar as you studied. But that was it. No other interest other than sketching you sparked from him. At least at first.

This, however, changed slowly over the weeks.

One time, you were leaving as he was walking in. In a clever attempt, taking advantage of the close proximity as you brushed your shoulder next to his, he thought of using Heaven's Door to try and peek into your mind. 

Though, he was surprised to find out you had a Stand yourself. A Stand that reacted instantly and stopped Heaven's Door. 

Rohan's hands moved down your sides, wrapping them around your back and squeezing you tightly against him, as his desire rose, wanting to feel you closer. The sweet moan that escaped your lips when he squeezed you, only fed his hunger. The heat rising between both your bodies pressed together.

You broke the kiss, resting your forehead on Rohan's cheek as you both caught your breaths silently.

"Im glad you liked it" You whispered. 

Rohan and you turned back to look at your sculpture, as the sunset shone through. The light reflected around the room, and Rohan's usual dark bedroom now looked golden. It was beautiful. The way Heaven's Door sculpture seemed to shine like the sun itself, white and yellow tones blending in all the corners of his room. The pieces of glass moving softly with the delicate evening wind coming from the window in a coordinated delicate dance. The soft clanking adding a gentle orchestra to the once silent room.

Rohan couldn't stop staring at the glass. 

The Glass. 

It had been a sudden, very thick, yet transparent glass what had stopped Heaven's Door from peeking into your mind that day. A glass that had come out of  nowhere, standing between the both of you. 

As Rohan's eyes caught a glance of what had happened, he saw a silhouette standing behind you. A tall, android looking figure standing behind you. A figure made out of glass. 

It was called Glass Animal. And it could create glass of all shapes, sizes and colors. It was for the most part, a stand meant for protection, since you could control how thin or how thick the glass was. 

However, the way you used your stand, was quite creative. Only adding to Rohan's new acquired interest in you. You used Glass Animal as a useful tool for your art. The news of you being an artist like him pushed him into developing feelings for you.

The installation art standing in front of him had come from Glass Animal. He had been there when you gathered the glass you used for Heaven's Door. And god, you looked so sexy that day. 

Rohan turned back, looking at you, and without thinking it twice, he kissed you passionately. The memories playing in his head as how the both of you became closer and closer with every passing day. How in the beginning you didn't quite like him. 

After the Heaven's Door incident. It took you a while to warm up to him. Mostly, your curiosity, since it wasn't until then that you noticed how much he frequented the coffee shop, and how he was always sketching. 

Rohan pushed you gently on the bed, as your heart skipped a beat, knowing where this was heading. 

You had been dating for almost 3 months, and you hadn't gone around it. Sure, you had come into his room before, made out, felt each other's skin, but it had never come down to it. Today it felt different. The looks he was giving you, the way he seemed completely enamored by your work, the golden tones adding to the atmosphere. It all made sense to you. It was crystal clear that Rohan wanted to finally cross that milestone with you. 

It was two days ago when Rohan arrived to your place, no plan made beforehand, he just wanted to take a break from his work and spend time with you and relax for a while. 

You were in the backyard, Glass Animal in front of you, materializing walls of glass in front of you. Several walls, all of them thin, all of them in very different colors. 

"What are you doing now?" Rohan asked,  walking towards you, noticing the menacing baseball bat in your hand. 

By this point, he knew you liked art as much as he did. However, your specialty was clay sculpture and installation art, glass being your first choice material for your installations. Something that didn't surprise him whatsoever.

"I got an email from City S's University, and they want to see my portfolio. I never take pictures of my work, so, I'm gonna be making installations like crazy and taking pictures" 

That day, Rohan watched you break glass like a psycho. The fact that you were wearing short shorts and a tanktop while breaking glass in the middle of the summer evening, scared him a bit. 

Swinging your bat far more violently than necessary, a thin layer of sweat shining on your skin, as the sun shone bright and strong in the middle of the sky. Glass raining all around, as the sunlight reflected everywhere as you fearlessly watched the glass jump everywhere. In the meantime, Glass Animal gathered all the broken class in a pile behind you as you kept breaking wall after wall.

Part of your stand's abilities included that you couldn't get cut by glass, which conveniently allowed you to break glass as if it were nothing.

Convenient. 

It was all too convenient. The setting, the gesture, the mood. Rohan had been craving this moment, and he wasn't going to let it slip. It just felt right. 

The way your skin got covered in goosebumps as soon as he crawled on top of you amused him. 

He whispered your name once more as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and brought him closer, kissing him hungrily. 

Resting his weight on his elbow in the matress, his other hand quickly explored your skin underneath your shirt. Roaming the territory he knew all too well but was eager to finally claim as his. 

A loud  moan escaped your lips as his hand found your boob and squeezed it after teasingly running his fingers over your nipple. 

"Rohan..." You gasped.

Oh, how sweet your voice sounded. So needy and yet so sweet. It only fueled him to keep teasing you with his free hand. 

Little by little, clothing began to decorate the floor of Rohan's room. The both of you drowning in the echoes of each other's name, desperate moans and sweet nothings. 

Arousal becoming painfully evident as you took your time pleasuring each other with your hands and mouths. Anticipating what came next, eager to get fully lost in each other. 

Rohan's breath was still agitated from having you sucked him off. However, he was still so terribly turned on, and still desperate. The sight of you swallowing his cum, followed by your fingers cleaning the edges of your mouth before licking them clean was too much to bear. 

"Fuck, come here, darling" He whispered as you crawled on top of him. 

His hand went to the back of your head and pulled you in for a kiss. His togue quick to tease your lips as you rested your weight on him. His other hand held on to your waist, as he swiftly managed to flip you over, leaving him on top, and your legs around his waist. 

He jerked his hips, as you felt his erection hot against your wet entrance. You moaned into his mouth. The hunger urged Rohan to make his way inside you already, but not yet. He cared about you, and felt the excitement built in his chest. He wanted to do this with you, god, how bad he wanted it. But he wanted to make it right. 

“Rohan…” Your voice felt gentle, too gentle. He felt you had touched his heart with your words alone. “Rohan, I want you so badly” 

The consent he was about to ask for came out of your swollen lips in a desperate moan. A chill ran down his back, as he positioned himself. 

“You do, baby girl?” His voice came out deeper than earlier, it was almost delirious. You arched your back and nodded. 

“Yes, Rohan. Please” 

The young artist smiled and leaned closer, kissing you. A tender delicate kiss. You wrapped your arm around his shoulders, bringing him closer, feeling his chest pressing against yours. 

Slowly, Rohan jerked his hips, finding his way between your folds, going deeper. A whimper escaped your lips, your fingernails clawing on his shoulders as he went deeper and deeper, stretching you out. Finally, the whimper turned into an echo of his name, followed by a breathless gasp. His chest puffing with pride, he moaned your name back as he kissed your cheek and your neck. 

He began rocking his hips, slowly at first. Savouring every inch of your clenching wet walls. God, this felt as addictive as very few things in life. You felt perfect. Your voice, the rise and fall of your chest, Rohan feeling your heartbeat against his chest, the blush, the sweat. Not only it was adorable to watch you lose yourself around him, it was all so erotic. 

He remained going at a slow pace, mostly enjoying the way your body reacted to him. Arching your back, sometimes moving your own hips to make him go even deeper.

“Rohan, faster, please” You begged.

“Such an impatient little girl, aren’t you? I’m taking my time with you, doll” 

He pulled back, almost pulling out and went once more, deeply inside you. Painfully slowly. The way your back arched, and your cries became needy. The way your tone began rising slowly. He had already made you cum twice while eating you out, he was noticing the pattern in your voice as you got closer to your climax. He chuckled, and bit your neck gently. You gasped. Your fingers clawing on his skin once more. Rohan smiled against your skin. 

“You like that, don’t you? 

“Ye-yes” You said breathless. 

Rohan’s pace sped up, but not significantly. He was breathing deeply and steadily, trying to keep himself from going feral, since he wanted to enjoy his first time with you. The times he had been with other women, it was mostly to satisfy his curiosity and occasional needs, but he had never been with a woman and felt this intimate before. He never felt the need to slow down and savour everything his senses could detect.

But you were a different story. He wanted to make you feel as good as he felt. He wanted to make you addicted to him.

You lied in a melodic mess. Like an orchestra, filled with tiny details, all of them delighting Rohan. You were just too good to just have sex with you. No. He had to savour you all, hear, touch, see. For the first time, he felt the need to satisfy your needs rather than his own. Hearing your voice get progressively higher, as you continued to twist and shake underneath him with every deep thrust, the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and the blush on your cheeks accentuated how you felt. It was something beautiful. Right now, you looked like the best piece of art he’d seen. The best piece of art he’d made. 

He had made a mess out of you. And what a satisfying mess. 

Feeling your walls clench around him tightly, as you screamed his name. He liked it. He couldn't help himself but speed his pace, each push stronger. Your moans got louder, as he rode you through your orgasm, feeling like every inch of your body was aching in the most delicious of ways. 

An echo in the shape of your name escaped through Rohan’s teeth. 

“Fuck, you feel so good” Rohan purred hissing your jaw. You slowly regained consciousness of your surroundings, feeling overwhelmed by the overstimulation and Rohan's faster and stronger pace. 

“Ah, Rohan” You said, cupping his face in your hands and bringing him closer, kissing him. “Rohan, cum inside me” You moaned, as a chill ran down his back. “Please” 

“You sure about that?” Rohan purred against your ear. 

“Ye-yeah. Don’t worry, I’ve taken my precautions” Your voice, lust dripping from it made a chill run up and down his back as he, for a second, felt like he was dangerously close to cumming on your command. “Rohan, I want you to fill me up” 

“Fuck, babe. You’ll make me last less than I anticipated” Rohan growled.

“Would it be too bad?”

“You are mine, babe" Rohan's green eyes stared into yours as his pace sped up suddenly "All mine. Only mine” 

You cried out in response, your nails digging into his back.

With his heart beating fast in his chest, he felt dizzy with everything about you. Drunk on your scent, your touch, your sounds. His pace was growing erratic, as your voice got louder and louder, each moan higher and louder. His climax starting to condense in his belly, as you kept reacting as delicious as ever to his touch. Your grip on his skin became stringer and stronger. 

Boy, that blissful moment. It felt ecstatic. Filling you up, as you screamed his name, nails clawing to his back. One last push, goinf as deep as he could, as he came. The idea of cumming inside you, filling you up like this fed his ego. Having you in a twisting mess underneath him fed his ego as well. 

You looked so beautiful like this. 

As Rohan caught his breath, he kissed your face with soft kisses, as you purred his name, followed by sweet nothings. 

"Rohan, I—I...I really enjoyed that" You gasped breathless, as Rohan slipped out of you. 

"I know, babe...I noticed" He murmured resting on top of you, snuggling his head underneath your neck. "I did too…" You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, one of your hands caressing his hair.

"I noticed" 

The sunset now long gone, the golden tones now replaced by a pale blue light. Streetlights coming from the window, as the hanging glass made its job and reflected it all around the room.

Your breaths echoing softly as the world came back into focus,  as the both of you lied still breathless and satisfied.

Rohan was the first one to break the silence.

"Stay here tonight. Please?" 

"Anything you want, my darling"

Rohan looked up, resting his weight on his elbows before leaning closer and kissing you in the most gentles of ways. A slow, tired and breathless kiss, reflecting everything he felt for you. 

[arrowofcarnations]

I’m Gonna Thrill You Tonight

Written for the eleventh day of Fic-O-Ween 2020, the Halloween-themed Sweater Weather/Coast to Coast fest organized by the wonderful M @opaleyedragon. This was such an awesome idea—thank you for putting this together so well and so quickly!

Thank you a million times over to SW & C2C author Hazel @lumosinlove for letting us play in her universe with her incredible characters. And a huge thanks to the lovely people of the SW discord for their support, encouragement, and inspiration. Y’all are the best hype squad a girl could ask for!

Title yanked from one of the all-time greatest Halloween jams, Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.” Enjoy, goblins and ghoulies~

(Note: This work is rated E, so avert your eyes if you are a minor, please!)

~

It was Halloween night, and Finn O’Hara was going to die.

“Knutty won’t let you die,” Logan replied with a grin. “He’ll literally figure out how to resurrect you just so he has help with the food.”

Finn watched Logan watching himself in the bedroom mirror, turning this way and that as his green eyes looked over his costume. “No, I mean like—” Finn flung a hand out in Logan’s direction, making an up and down motion. “Look at you. Look at you.”

Logan’s amused smile slid into something more devious as he turned around to face Finn. The Batman costume he’d bought for this year’s team Halloween party was far more family-friendly than the one he’d worn at Harvard all those years ago, but it was still tight, the black spandex of the jumpsuit stretching over his broad chest and thighs in ways that were making it impossible for Finn to think about putting cupcakes on platters and filling the candy bowl downstairs for the neighborhood trick-or-treaters.

He crossed the room to put his hands on Finn’s hips, holding him there as he leaned up and brushed his lips against Finn’s in a barely-there kiss. “Who knew you had such a thing for Batman, eh?” he teased.

Finn huffed out a laugh, catching Logan in a firmer kiss that lingered as he let his hands roam up Logan’s arms and down his back, feeling the hard muscle beneath the fabric. “I have a thing for you as Batman,” he said, which was true to a maybe-embarrassing degree. He could feel the heat of those green eyes, sharp and intense as they peered at him through the dark mask, going straight to a hallowed place just below the plastic yellow belt of his Robin costume.

Logan’s smile widened at the admission and he gave Finn a playful butt tap, the same way he’d do on the ice. After a moment, though, his mouth fell into a more serious line, brows knitting in thought.

“What?” Finn asked, sensing the shift in mood.

“No, just…” Logan bit the inside of his cheek as his eyes searched Finn’s. “This—me in this costume—it’s not making you sad, right?”

Finn’s heart pulled a little at that—seeing Logan in the cape and cowl again had, unsurprisingly, brought up a lot of old memories—but he meant it when he smiled at Logan and shook his head no. “It’s not,” he murmured, giving Logan’s shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “It might’ve a year ago, maybe, but now…” He pressed his hands to the expanse of Logan’s chest, palms warmed by the heat of Logan’s body. “I can touch you the way I want. And tell you I love you. And that you make a fucking hot Batman.”

Logan was smiling again, the worry smoothed out of his face. He leaned in to kiss the hollow of Finn’s throat, the press of it more tender than teasing. “D’accord. Bon.”

“Da-core. Bone.”

Logan groaned like Finn had just told an awful joke, but he was fighting a grin even as he shook his head. “Please don’t,” he said. “Your accent hurts me.”

“Hey, Batman and Robin, let’s hustle,” Leo called, his footsteps in the hall getting louder until he was joining them in the room. “Everybody’s on their way.”

Finn and Logan looked over at him, their mouths falling open simultaneously. Finn wasn’t sure what he’d imagined when Leo had told them he’d be dressing up as Poison Ivy, but any mental images he’d enjoyed over the past week or two paled in comparison to the real thing.

The real thing was standing in his bedroom, all six-feet-three-inches of him, his tight green jumpsuit adorned with leaves and twisting vines that were thicker in strategic places. His shoes were the same color, blending into the rest of the outfit and making his already-long legs look like they went on forever. Finn’s mouth watered as his eyes trailed down the low (low, low) V-cut of the suit down those mile-long legs and back up again to Leo’s face. He was looking at them expectantly, one eyebrow raised beneath a halo of blond, leaf-strewn curls.

Logan cleared his throat. “Holy…”

“Shit,” Finn finished for him, voice low and emphatic. “Look. At. You.”

Watching Leo’s expression morph from confused to surprised to flattered made Finn’s heart swell. He didn’t know how Leo could be at all surprised by their reaction, given what he was wearing, but the earnest flush rising on his cheeks told Finn he hadn’t quite been expecting to drop any jaws.

“No time,” Leo said with a head shake, but he was smiling brightly under the glow of their praise. “Dumo and Celeste are like, five minutes away. If we start this now…”

But Finn was already crossing the room to Leo, needing to be closer, needing to touch. “We’ll never go downstairs, because we’ll spend the rest of the night worshipping you,” he said, letting his fingertips trail down the bare stretch of skin from Leo’s throat to the end of his sternum.

“Ouais,” Logan hummed in agreement, coming up to stand on Leo’s opposite side and nip playfully at his earlobe, chasing it with a kiss. “Très sexy, Nut.”

“Oh god.” Leo was laughing and taking a step back, hands on each of their shoulders to keep them at bay, but the flush on his cheeks that was now working its way down his neck gave him away. Finn smiled; he loved a flustered Leo, loved being the one to fluster him. “No time.”

“You said five minutes,” Logan said, undeterred.

“Yeah,” Finn added. “I can work with five minutes. We all know Lo can work with five minutes.”

Finn laughed as Logan gave his shoulder a shove. Leo just shook his head again. Then his smile slanted a bit, looking more like a smirk, as his eyes traveled from Logan to Finn and back again. “Later,” he said, voice low and full of promise. “When we have hours, not minutes.” He kissed them, one after the other, and said, “Come on, I’m not letting these cupcakes burn!”

Leo was already out the door as Finn and Logan looked at each other with raised brows.

“We’re making him wear that every fucking year,” Logan said.

Finn kissed him through a smile. “Oh, yeah. And not just on Halloween. Birthdays, anniversaries, days that end in Y…”

~

Leo was glad they’d volunteered to host this year. Since he and Finn had been roommates before getting together, and they’d already been living together when Logan moved in, they’d never thrown the kind of housewarming party that other newly shacked-up people in relationships often did. It was always fun when the whole team could get together like this with their families, and the fact that it was here, in this space Leo now shared with both his loves, made it that much sweeter.

That was the last coherent thought Leo had before the chaos of the night began. Not two seconds after he got the last of the food set out, the entryway filled with the sound of “Happy Halloween!” being shouted in unison by the entire Dumais clan. By the time Leo reached them, the kids were already all over Logan, chattering a mile a minute and showing him the candy haul they’d collected so far. Finn hugged Celeste and fist bumped Pascal before he was jogging down the front steps to help James and Lily, who’d just pulled up with baby Harry and some party supplies in tow.

“This is exciting,” Celeste said, kissing Leo’s cheek as she took off her coat to reveal her classic Wonder Woman costume underneath. “We’re finally the ones visiting you three.”

“Oui, we’ll see if Logan’s gotten any neater since his time under our roof,” Pascal, who was decked out as Superman, added.

“A little,” Leo said, smiling as he thought about how Logan had started making his bed and throwing clothes into drawers whenever he knew the three of them would be sleeping in his room. “Not in hotels, though—it still looks like a hurricane blew through when we’re on roadies.”

“Hey Knutty, Tremz,” James said, pulling the mask on his Spider-Man costume over his head to give them the full effect and spreading his arms. “Awesome, right? We should theme these things every year. Whose idea was heroes and villains?”

“Finn’s,” Leo said before Lily came up behind them, Finn trailing a bit behind her with the bags. She looked spot-on in her Mary Jane costume, and had Harry—dressed as the only spider Leo could ever call cute—balanced on her hip.

“Oh, hello,” Lily said, raising her eyebrows before going in for a one-armed hug. “You’re putting us all to shame, Poison Ivy.”

“Right?!” Finn yelled from the top of the steps. Logan said it at the same time, shooting Leo a wink as he put Katie up on his shoulders. It warmed Leo’s chest like it did every time, and he suspected that would never change.

Over the next hour, more and more people showed up until the entire team was packed into Leo, Logan, and Finn’s place. By the time Leo was pouring himself a second cup of punch, the party was well and truly underway. The players and their families were eating, drinking, and chatting, complimenting and chirping each other’s costume choices in equal measure; tiny fingers grabbed fistfuls of candy from the bowls scattered throughout the living room, hallway, and kitchen; and orange and purple string lights cast a festive glow through the decorated house.

Thriller was playing through the sound system Finn had recently set up downstairs, and Leo watched on as James—Peter Parker’s Spider-Man—and Thomas—Miles Morales’s Spider-Man—tried to have a dance-off to decide whose costume was superior. (Tried being the operative word, as James’s list of talents did not include dancing.) Lily had her palm over her face, and Noelle, looking cute as Gwen Stacy, was laughing beside her.

It made Leo want to play the observer for another minute or two, to commit this night to memory. He made his way around the living room, sipping his drink as he went. He smiled as he caught sight of Kasey, appropriately dressed up as Mr. Freeze, and chatted with him for a couple of minutes before leaving him at the mercy of Natalie, grinning and tipsy and objectively stunning in her Catwoman suit. The only couple getting more handsy than them was Sirius and Remus. Sirius, ever the captain, had shown up as Captain America, and Remus had his arms wrapped around his back underneath the shield resting there as they kissed in the far corner of the room. Sirius pulled back to nose at Remus’s jaw and Remus laughed when he saw his face, swiping a hand across Sirius’s cheek. Leo realized Sirius was covered in smudges of black where Remus’s Winter Soldier eye makeup had rubbed off on his skin.

Heat trickled in Leo’s gut as he thought about what Logan and Finn would look like wearing that makeup—what they’d look like if Leo wore that makeup and made out with them in a dark corner, gray-black marks smeared over their cheeks, their mouths. He blinked and took a long drink from the plastic cup in his hand, shelving that distracting mental image even as he vowed to find a costume that required eyeliner for next year.

“Gross, isn’t it?” a voice beside him said. Leo turned to see Regulus, who just rolled his eyes and shook his head a bit at the lovebirds across the way. “Like, I’m happy for them and everything, but do they have to do this all the time? Don’t their lips ever go numb?”

Leo laughed and, noticing Regulus’s cup was empty, passed him his own half-full one with a look that said, here, you’ll need this. He didn’t have siblings, but he guessed just about everyone would feel how Regulus did when it came to their brother’s PDA. He’d noticed that Regulus seemed genuinely baffled by kissing and sex in general, though, and wondered not for the first time if Regulus experienced that kind of attraction. Now wasn’t the time to get into it, so Leo chirped him for his Loki costume instead, flicking one of the wings on his helmet. “Nice antennae.”

“Nice chest hair,” Regulus quipped back. “Did the zipper fall off that thing, or?”

Leo laughed loudly, which made Regulus laugh, and they passed the cup of punch back and forth for a few minutes, talking about hockey, travel schedules, the upcoming holidays. Eventually the Dumais kids found Regulus and started asking him to go, tugging on his cape and hoisting their pillowcases over their shoulders.

“Trick-or-treating duty,” Regulus said by way of explanation before herding (or being herded by) his charges out the front door. As Leo watched them leave, he caught sight of someone he didn’t recognize; a woman who looked maybe a few years older than him with dark skin and criss-crossing goddess braids that rested over the plates of her Valkyrie armor.

She walked over to another woman dressed as Captain Marvel, putting a hand on the small of her back as she talked to—Finn, Leo realized. Captain Marvel gave Finn a brief hug, and Finn said something that made both women laugh before heading into the kitchen. When they turned around, Leo recognized her as June. He’d known she was coming; Finn had suggested inviting her once they knew they were hosting, and Leo and Logan had agreed—Leo perhaps a little more readily than Logan. Leo understood that. He hadn’t had much time to feel anything other than confusion about June, but Logan had been wildly jealous—had been set up by her and Finn to be jealous—and it was clear the thought of her still rankled him slightly.

June and her—friend?—found Logan in the crowd, and Leo raised his eyebrows, taking a few steps toward that side of the room to head off any potential awkwardness, but decided to see how it played out first.

“Hey, Nutter Butter,” Finn said as he came up behind him, tilting his head to press a kiss to the side of Leo’s neck. He pressed a fresh drink into Leo’s hand before following Leo’s gaze across the room. “Uh oh. You think he’s okay over there?”

Leo hummed an affirmative, kissing Finn’s mouth briefly. “I think so,” he said. “I can jump in if things get tense. I think he’s fine, though, Harz.”

And it did seem that way; Logan definitely looked awkward, his smile somewhat forced, but then June said something to him that loosened him up and pulled a small, real grin out of him. Finn let out a breath Leo guessed he’d been holding, and he rested his head against Leo’s for a moment, temple to temple.

“I’m glad,” he said, stepping back to look at Leo. “I wouldn’t bring her around if you guys weren’t completely, 100-percent good with it, but I’m glad you are.” He paused, looking at Leo questioningly.

“I am,” Leo confirmed. “You should ask Logan again later, but I’m sure he’ll say the same thing.”

Finn nodded, taking an absentminded sip of his drink. A shadow of something flickered across his face, and Leo put a hand on the back of his neck, thumb rubbing small circles against the soft skin behind his ear. “He forgives you for all that,” Leo murmured. “You know he does. Don’t keep punishing yourself, sweetheart.”

Finn whined at the endearment, tilting his head back into the touch before shaking his head as if to clear it. “Why you gotta be so cute when you read my mind, Honeynut?” he said with a grin that compelled Leo to kiss him again. “Okay, so. June’s here, and she’s cool, and her girlfriend is cool, too, and I’m happy.”

Girlfriend, Leo thought. That answered that question. He let his free hand brush Finn’s hair back and kissed his forehead just above his Robin mask. “I’m happy, too,” he said. He was warm from the drinks, from his costume, from Finn’s body heat. Warm from Logan’s laugh traveling across the room. Warm from the happiness that filled his chest, so much fuller than Leo’d ever imagined it could be. “Love you, Fish.”

Warm from the brightness of Finn’s smile. “Love you, too.”

~

Logan was feeling good. He was a few rum and cokes in, maybe a little tipsy, and smiling as he caught up with Celeste and Pascal. He still saw them all the time, but it was different now that he wasn’t living with them, and he was glad to have a chance to spend that extra time with them—particularly Celeste, since there was always time during practice and travel to talk to Dumo.

He was grabbing a snack from a nearby table—he didn’t want to get too drunk, not before Leo could make good on his promise from earlier—when a “Hi, Logan” made him look up.

June. June and someone he didn’t know, both of them looking at him and smiling expectantly.

While he was fine with June coming—he knew she and Finn had stayed friends, and he trusted Finn completely—he’d sort of been hoping to avoid running into her after the impression he made at Christmas, at family skate. They hadn’t been his finest moments, and he still felt flickers of jealousy over her, though it was somewhat removed from him now, more like an echo.

“Hey, June,” Logan said with a nod and thin smile. “Nice costume. Yours, too, uh…”

“Amalia,” June said, gesturing to the woman in the Valkyrie costume as she extended her hand to Logan. “My girlfriend. ‘Malia, this is Finn’s boyfriend.”

“Ah, the famous Logan,” Amalia said with a warm smile and a firm handshake. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Part of Logan’s mind was stuck on girlfriend, but he gave a small, awkward laugh, looking nervously between them. “Famous? That doesn’t sound too good.”

“Oh, no,” Amalia said with a reassuring wave of her hand. “I just meant, I’m finally meeting the guy Finn talks to June about nonstop. Well, one of the guys.”

June hummed in agreement through a sip of her own drink. From this close, Logan could smell the boozy mix—mostly tequila, maybe some lime, too—and a hazy memory of him, Finn, and Leo doing body shots off each other after last season’s finals win swam briefly through his mind. “We’ll have to find Leo later and say hi,” June said to Amalia before looking back at Logan. “Thanks for inviting us. This is the most fun I’ve had on Halloween since...probably ever.”

“Same,” Logan said. “And yeah, no problem.”

June hesitated for a second, then seemed to make up her mind as she added, “And sorry for, you know. All the times we’ve met before now.”

That, combined with the sight of June’s free hand resting against the small of Amalia’s back in the almost-unconscious way Finn always did with him, pulled a real smile out of Logan, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Those were definitely less fun,” he said. “But it’s okay. It’s all good now.”

June’s smile was open and genuine as she said, “Yeah, seems that way, doesn’t it? It all worked out.” Her gaze was nothing short of adoring as she looked at Amalia, both of them grinning at each other as Amalia sipped her drink. “Still, I felt like I should apologize. The whole ‘going to family skate with Finn’ thing was mostly my idea. I thought, you know, this dude needs a fire lit under his ass! He needs to get a little jealous! But I’m pretty sure all it did was make you both miserable.”

“You were right, though,” Logan said before he could stop himself. He hadn’t planned on spilling his guts to his boyfriend’s ex tonight. Maybe the rum had loosened him up a little more than he’d thought, or maybe he was starting to like June despite himself, but he decided he could afford to let his guard down just a bit. “I did need a fire under me. It took a couple more matches, but eventually I woke up.”

June pursed her lips against a smile, giving Logan’s shoulder a brief squeeze. “I’m glad you did,” she said. “I can tell how happy Finn is. He’s crazy about you guys.”

Logan’s eyes searched the crowded room until they landed on Finn, beautiful and ridiculous in his Robin costume with his mouth trailing kisses up Leo’s neck and jaw, pulling a dimpled smile out of Leo. He wondered if he’d ever be able to look across a room at them and not be blown away by his love, by his own wild luck.

“I’m crazy about them,” he murmured half to himself, rubbing the heel of his hand absently over his full heart.

~

Later, Logan was sidestepping spiderwebs and skeletons to make his way to his bedroom. The house was quiet and still, the last few guests having poured themselves into taxis about twenty minutes ago, and he was dying to get out of his snug, overly warm costume and crawl under the covers with his boys. Just as he was unclipping the utility belt to slide it off his hips, he heard the bedroom door swing open a little further and the click of Finn’s black boots as he walked up behind him.

“Hey, don’t take that off yet,” Finn said lowly, arms snaking around Logan’s waist as he pressed his chest against Logan’s back. Logan sighed as Finn kissed the nape of his neck with a slow tenderness. He let his head fall forward to give Finn better access, closing his eyes and letting everything fall away that wasn’t Finn’s body solid against his, Finn’s mouth hot on his skin.

“I’m sweating in this thing,” Logan complained, but made no move to pull away from Finn or take off the costume. He changed tactics, turning in Finn’s arms to kiss him properly. “What, you don’t want me naked?”

“No, I do, I do,” Finn said, letting his hands trail up Logan’s abs and chest to rest on his shoulders. He did that a few more times, running his hands over Logan’s body as though to make sure he was really standing there. There was something in his expression Logan couldn’t quite read.

“Quoi?”

Finn stilled as he turned his brown eyes up to Logan’s, looking at him in a way that made Logan feel like he was naked already, all of him exposed for Finn to see. It used to be scary, being on the receiving end of that look from him, but Logan saw Finn now, too. Really saw him. “I’m just thinking,” Finn said like he was choosing his words carefully, “About all the things I wanted the last time I saw you in this costume. Everything I wanted to say to you, do to you.”

Logan’s heart ached at that. “Finn,” he started, frowning.

Finn held up a hand. “No,” he said gently, smiling. “It’s okay. I just meant...I loved you then, even when I’d barely known you three months. And I love you more now. So...leave it on? Just for a minute.” His hands found Logan’s hips, thumb circling precisely over the fleur-de-lis tattoo hiding under the material of the costume. That he could find it without even glancing down sent heat spiking through Logan’s body, and he splayed his own hands across Finn’s back underneath his red vest. Finn leaned in to kiss him, but before he closed the distance, he whispered, “Let me do all those things I thought about for so long.”

Unable to wait another second, Logan pitched forward, crashing their mouths together. They kissed until their lips were swollen and bitten-red, hands roaming and feet stumbling backwards until Finn’s back collided with the dresser drawers by the bed. Seeing an opportunity, Logan wrapped his arms around Finn more securely, lifted him off the ground and sat him on top of the dresser in one smooth motion.

When he pulled back, Finn just smiled at him bewilderedly, letting his head fall back against the wall. “Fuck,” Finn said, huffing out a breathless laugh as he blinked at the ceiling.

The cheap costume fabric was doing nothing to hide the outline of Finn’s hardening cock, and Logan his lip as he eyed it, palming his own dick briefly. The dynamic between them was always shifting depending on the mood, but Logan didn’t usually throw Finn onto pieces of furniture. Judging by Finn’s reaction, he was thinking he should do it more often. “Yeah? Tu aimes ça?” Logan asked, lips against Finn’s neck.

Finn had heard that phrase enough times to know its meaning. “Uh, yeah,” he said like it was obvious. “That was fucking hot, Lo. Didn’t know you could lift me that easy.”

“I bench more than you weigh,” Logan chirped back even as he kissed a trail over Finn’s collarbone.

Finn was still for a moment, and Logan thought maybe he was just having too good a time to respond, but then he sprung into action, hopping off the dresser and hauling Logan into his arms. A startled laugh burst out of Logan as Finn walked them over to the bed and threw him onto it, his back bouncing as he hit the mattress.

Their laughter slid into moans as they wrestled playfully for control, pressing each other down with their body weight and getting more and more distracted by their sloppy, heated kisses. Logan let himself be bracketed by Finn’s arms and legs, pinned by a pair of brown eyes that no longer had any trace of sadness in them. Logan reached behind Finn’s head to pull the tie of his mask free, tossing the fabric aside. Then he did the same with his own mask.

“Want to see all of you, mon rouge,” Logan said, stroking a thumb across Finn’s freckled cheek.

Finn leaned into it, smiling like there was nowhere else he’d rather be, and kissed him again.

~

They were tangled up in each other like that, touching and kissing and slowly rocking their hips against each other, when footsteps approached from down the hall, stopping beside the bed.

“I was gonna suggest we take a shower first, but…” Leo trailed off, eyes trailing over them both. “This is good. This is really good.”

“Hey, baby,” Finn smiled as Leo knelt on the bedspread, one hand going to tangle in Logan’s hair and the other pressed to the center of Finn’s back. He and Leo met each other in a kiss, and Leo hummed as he felt Logan’s hand creeping up his thigh to tease at his still-soft cock, obscured by the layers of his costume.

“Leo,” Logan said, sounding so genuinely delighted by his presence that Leo momentarily forgot about all the sex he wanted to have and just smiled at him, heart flipping in his chest. He bent over to kiss him soundly. “Logan,” he said back, smiling widely. “I promised you hours, didn’t I?”

“Oui,” Logan nodded, squeezing the swell of muscle above Leo’s knee. “Time for plenty of showers.”

Leo laughed, then turned his head as he felt Finn cradle his jaw. “Those fucking dimples,” Finn mumbled half to himself, “Kill me every time.”

Leo let Finn kiss him for a few heady moments, just feeling the two of them, feeling out the mood. He pulled back to look at their position, Finn on top of Logan and Leo knelt beside them both, and suddenly knew what he wanted.

“Take the rest of his costume off, Fish,” Leo murmured. He brushed a hand over Finn’s still-clothed cock and felt him twitch, heard his shaky inhale. “Then yours. Show him how hard he’s making you.”

It was a little bit of a gamble; though this side of Leo had come out more than a few times by now with Logan, he hadn’t yet tried giving orders to Finn in bed. He knew Finn liked to top, to be in control and throw himself into making his partners feel good—he knew that was what made Finn feel good—but he didn’t intend to boss Finn around quite the same way as he might with Logan.

“Would you like that, Tremz?” Leo added, brushing a thumb across Logan’s lips. Logan nodded, groaning. He kissed the pad of Leo’s thumb, green eyes darting between the two of them.

Seeing how much Logan was already into it made Finn’s eyes go wide and dark, and he hurried to get Logan naked as quickly as possible. Leo smiled to himself as he unzipped his own costume, happy his instincts seemed to have been right.

When the last scraps of fabric were on the floor, nothing but miles of bare skin between them, Leo stretched out on his side next to Logan, who was looking up at Finn walking himself forward on his knees. Finn straddled him again, closing a hand around Logan’s cock. Logan moaned and rolled his hips and fuck, Leo could watch Finn bring him off like that and be perfectly content, but he had other plans.

He wrapped a hand around his own dick, which was filling fast, and looked at Logan’s flushed face on the pillow beside him. Logan kissed him fiercely, like he hadn’t had the chance in weeks, and Leo moaned into his mouth, twitching in his own hand. He bit Logan’s bottom lip gently, then less gently, and Logan made a pleased sound, chasing Leo’s mouth as he pulled away.

Leo ran his knuckles down Logan’s cheek, overcome with fondness for this boy who’d had thicker walls than anyone Leo had ever met and was now so quick to show affection, to lay his heart bare in front of them. After a moment, he recovered himself enough to remember his plan and said in the steadiest voice he could manage, “Shhh, sweetheart. I know what you want. You want to suck Finn’s cock. You want to have him in your mouth. Right?”

“Oh, fuck. Oui, yes,” Logan said. Leo heard Finn swear under his breath, too, and he knew he had them. He looked at Finn. “Go on, Harzy. Give him what he wants.”

Finn shifted to plant his knees on either side of Logan’s head as Logan propped himself up on the pillows. He paused to catch Leo’s mouth in a bruising kiss before gripping himself at the base and slowly inching into Logan’s mouth, careful not to choke him. Logan couldn’t take Finn as deeply in this position, but that didn’t seem to matter; Logan groaned loudly, fingers digging into Finn’s thighs, and Leo’s heart stuttered in his chest as he saw Finn’s expression. He looked wrecked, his red hair a riot and a deep, rosy flush working its way down his face and neck.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing. Then Leo pushed himself up to kneel behind Finn, kissing and biting at his neck and shoulders. He steadied Finn’s hips with his hands, then pushed them forward slightly, causing his cock to slide further into Logan’s mouth.

“Knutty,” Finn gasped, reaching around to give Leo’s ass a squeeze. “Holy shit.”

“That’s it,” Leo said, starting to build up a rhythm until he was gently rocking Finn in and out of Logan. He kept one hand on Finn’s hip, guiding, while he reached the other behind himself to take Logan’s dripping cock in his hand. “Just like this. He loves it, Finn. He’s so hard, leaking all over himself. I can feel it.”

Logan was practically writhing beneath them, hands in a white-knuckled grip on Leo and Finn’s thighs as Finn fed him his cock and Leo jerked him off. The position was awkward, and Leo knew he wouldn’t be able to stay there long, but he kept it up until the muscles in his arm started to protest the angle. He shifted backwards until he could lower himself between Logan’s legs, licking a stripe up his length. Logan cried out around Finn, and Finn looked over his shoulder to see what Leo was doing, biting his lip around a groan.

“Wanna make him come like this?” Leo asked, raising an eyebrow as he smiled at Finn.

Finn, who had stilled as he turned his attention to Leo, nodded quickly. “Only if I can make you come next,” he said, flashing a grin that sent heat spiking through Leo. Logan pinched Finn’s ass, startling an “ow!” out of him.

“Allez,” Logan urged after pulling his mouth off Finn’s cock. His voice was already shot, and Leo had to give his own heavy cock a squeeze at the sound.

Finn smiled down at Logan, touching his leaking tip to Logan’s swollen, spit-slicked lips. Logan opened his mouth immediately, teasing the head the way he knew drove Finn wild every time, and they fell back into their rhythm, Logan taking Finn as far as he could manage. Leo’s focus turned to Logan’s cock, thick and tempting in his fist. He took him into his mouth and lost himself in it, rocking his hips absently against the mattress to take the edge off his own need.

Their onslaught of attention soon proved too much, and Logan’s legs started to tremble beneath Leo’s hands. Leo upped his pace, bobbing on Logan’s cock until Logan cried out around Finn, his whole body tensing as he started to spill down Leo’s throat.

“Fuck yes,” Finn said shakily as Leo worked him through it. He and Logan locked eyes as Logan rode out his orgasm, his rhythm on Finn’s cock faltering. “So good, Lo, baby. That’s it. Come for us.”

Logan eventually stilled, sinking back against the bed as his softening cock slipped out of Leo’s mouth. Leo pressed a gentle kiss to his tip before sitting up on his knees toward the foot of the bed. Finn pulled back, too, cock red and shining as he stretched out on top of Logan to kiss and nuzzle him. Leo knew Finn loved this part; sharing in the hazy bliss of his partners’ afterglow, regardless of whether he’d come yet himself. Leo loved Finn’s punch-drunk smile, loved how close Logan was holding him.

He was surprised when Finn suddenly turned around and leapt at him, catching him around the waist. They were kneeling chest to chest, Logan watching them with a lazy grin from where he’d curled up on his side. Finn brought his hands up to cradle Leo’s face, looking at him like he’d just invented sex, and Leo loved that, too.

“Your turn,” Finn said, his smile playful and warm.

“It’s not gonna take much,” Leo said, hissing as Finn pressed closer, bringing their cocks together. “Fuck, Finn.”

Finn wrapped a hand around both of them, giving a few experimental strokes. He quirked a brow at Leo, a question in his eyes. Leo, who in all honesty was halfway there already, nodded quickly, gripping Finn’s biceps. “Yeah, like this,” he breathed, urging him on with a rock of his hips.

It only took a few dozen strokes for Leo to get there, calling out his boyfriends’ names as Finn stayed with him through it, not letting up until Leo was twitching and sensitive.

Leo brought a hand up to Finn’s face, breathless and reverent as he held Finn’s gaze. “I love you,” he said softly before kissing him.

Finn kissed him back, smiling. “Love you so much, nutter butter.”

Leo shifted and Finn gasped, and he looked down to see Finn’s cock still achingly hard between them. “Sweetheart,” he said, reaching down to wrap a hand around him. “How do you want it?”

“Sur mon visage.” Logan murmured it, practically a purr, and Leo’s spent cock gave a valiant twitch at the image.

“Oh god,” Leo said with a groan.

“What?” Finn asked, looking back and forth between them. “What’s that mean?”

“He wants you to come on him,” Leo translated, eyes on Logan as he said it. “On his face.”

“Oh god,” Finn echoed. He kissed Leo once more before getting into a good position, his knees on either side of Logan’s chest. Logan rolled onto his back and looked up at him, licking his lips in a way that made Finn groan and grip himself tightly.

Leo stretched out on his side next to them as Finn started to bring himself off. It was mesmerizing to watch, and Leo had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before they were all ready to go again. Leo reached over to stroke the swell of Finn’s ass, feeling the tension coiled under his skin. Finn’s face was screwed up in pleasure, his fist a blur on his cock.

“Open your eyes, Finn,” Leo heard himself say. He was so lost in the moment that he hardly knew what he was saying anymore. “He wants you to see how good he looks when you come all over him.”

“Holy fuck,” Finn said tightly, blinking his eyes open to look at Leo, then Logan, whose own eyes flickered from Finn’s face to his cock. “Lo, I’m—I’m gonna—”

“Allez, Finn, allez,” Logan breathed. He curled his hands around the backs of Finn’s knees, urging him on. Then he opened his mouth, pushing his tongue over his bottom lip obscenely, and that was it; Finn came with a shout, painting thick stripes across Logan’s face.

Finn came for what felt like ages, and then the three of them collapsed in a sweaty heap, limbs tangled together as they caught their breaths and came down from their shared high. When Finn came back to himself and rolled off the bed to head toward the bathroom, Leo didn’t fight him on it. He let Finn clean the mess off Logan’s face with gentle strokes, and hummed as Logan shuffled closer to kiss him while Finn swiped the towel over their stomachs and between their legs.

“That was so good,” Logan sighed against Leo’s lips. “Love you, peanut.”

Leo kissed his nose. “Love you, Tremz.” Finn settled in on Logan’s other side, nuzzling into his thick brown hair, and the three of them stayed like that for a long few minutes, wound up in each other.

Leo was hovering on the edge of a doze when he heard Finn say, “Don’t think I forgot about earlier, Knutty. I fully plan to worship you all night as promised.”

With his eyes closed and his body warm and pleasantly weighed-down by the two of them, Leo smiled. “I’m in favor of that,” he said, letting the pull of sleep overtake him for the moment. It was Halloween night, and there was plenty of time left to send shivers up his boys’ spines.

[marshmallowprotection]

Serendipity

Pairing: Kang Jaehee/Main Character 

Bio: It's been nice to get into the groove of working in the café with Jaehee, but the two of you keep butting heads over the little things. How will you settle it?

For the Mystic Messenger Reverse Big Bang Project. @mysme-rbb

[Read on AO3]

[Check out my Partner here.]

It wasn’t as easy as you thought to get a business up and running. Well, you certainly didn’t think it was a cakewalk, but it was a lot more involved than you assumed.

But, you supposed that was how anyone felt about their business. Jaehee knew the in’s and out’s well after spending so much time working with Jumin, however, there were still so many factors to consider that she had to take note of as you two were working hard on the business model for the café.

She had taken care of so much without even batting an eyelash. From making sure that things with the renovation were going properly, to ensuring that all the little touchings for the interior were to your liking as you had decided upon after making countless sketches, and that wasn’t at all to disregard how she’d been working on brewing the menu of drinks.

Jaehee was astounding, frankly.

Every single day you were able to learn something that you hadn’t known about her and it just drew you to want to be closer to Jaehee. She was passionate and it showed in how much thought she put into the smallest things. It could be as simple as trying to make sure that the napkins had the right color and energy.

Or, it could be as big as picking which tables and machinery to use. As long as she was there, you knew that you had nothing to worry about in terms of getting things to stay on track. You had a bit harder time trying to schedule things and make sure that they were following the path that they needed, so having Jaehee there made things possible without any messes!

To clarify, you thought, messes that involved construction and order were things you didn’t have to concern yourself with.

If it was in regards to a teeny mess in the kitchen?

That was kind of another thing entirely to talk about with your partner. There was plenty of work to be done and you were busy most of the time working to make sure that you had everything you needed for the day to clean up right as you worked.

Which, often led to Jaehee clicking her tongue and sighing at your work ethic. You just beamed whenever she came around and found just a bit of flour or other ingredients resting against the chopping block or the sink. You would get to things just as soon as you rotated through your fast cycle. It was how you functioned and how your brain layered your tasks.

While she thrived on order and structure to get things done, you had moments of relishing the freedom of the moment and letting your creativity wander. Some people would say that it was a partnership that had stormy seas ahead; but, honestly? Having someone willing to work outside of the box with someone who danced closer to the lines meant you had perfect harmony.

You didn’t have to always see eye to eye to be close to someone, nor did you have to agree to get things done.

Opposing views, as you had experienced, had allowed you and Jaehee to be able to find a lot of middle ground that would benefit more people than just yourselves. It opened the shop to more than just one crowd of people that wanted to drop by.

You both wanted this café to flourish with which meant putting your heads together to make progress!

Though, while your differing views had blended just fine thus far, the one thing that the two of you were having trouble with had to do with the menu of the café. She had carefully crafted the brews from the roast to the cup. However, where you two had a problem was trying to find that staple item on the menu.

It was that one thing that people would always drop by to try or were buzzing about when they talked about the place. After all, just focusing on drinks wouldn’t quite attract just anyone to see the place for themselves. You had a few ideas yourself and so did Jaehee, but you just couldn’t agree at all on what you should go with.

Your mind told you to go for gold by something big and flashy and Jaehee was focused on something simple, but not too plain.

It was seemingly the only thing that you couldn’t agree on. There were far too many pastries and cakes to pick from to settle on just one thing to be the centerpiece. Which, is what led the two of you to come to the conclusion that you had reached today.

In the kitchen of the café with loads of sweets on the counter for no reason other than the fact that:

“Well, if we simply cannot settle this by looking at our notes, then we should make everything that we believe to be a strong contender, [Y/N].”

“A good ol’ fashioned bake-off, then, huh?”

“I think those terms are agreeable.”

“Bring it on.”

Of course, neither you nor Jaehee set a limit on how many things you had in mind, which meant that the kitchen had way more snacks than you could eat by yourselves in just a day or two. That would certainly wind up going to the rest of the RFA when you were done if they were fool-hardy enough to walk into the café today.

You wouldn’t deny that it was fun, though.

To be in the kitchen together while the low hum of the radio echoed throughout the room, your eyes lingering on Jaehee when she thought that you were caught up in reading your notes and pausing to stir something with careful ease. These were the moments when you got to see a side of Jaehee that nobody else ever got the chance to view.

That side of Jaehee warmed your heart and brought warmth to your face. She was always so cute when she worked like this. She pursed her lips just so and would tap the tip of the pen against her lips whenever she made notes and correlations to her plans as she sampled and changed her final goal.

She didn’t know how adorable it was.

Not that you let a day go by without reminding her how much you appreciated having her in your personal space. She would always blush and cough to compose herself, looking away before she slid her hand into your own before you headed home for the evening after closing up the shop for the day.

One of these days she would be able to face you and tease you back without hesitation, but you were okay waiting for that day. These moments where she challenged you and kept you on your toes were just as fun and interesting to you to have and to hold. Though, this time, you wanted to be able to show her that you were capable of being able to prove that your choice was right.

“How’s it going over here?” you asked, continuing to stir the bowl in your hands as you made eye contact with Jaehee. “Ready to admit defeat, Jaehee?”

She chuckled. You knew that sound. She was always ready to stand her ground. You knew that whatever she had planned might’ve upstaged whatever you were thinking. So, you knew when she smiled, it was time to test the waters to see, “I assure you that I won’t be giving up so easily.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a battle if you didn’t give it your all,” you countered. You took a few steps into her side of the kitchen just to get a little glimpse at her plans. You just needed to give her a little push to get on her good side. Setting down your work next to hers, you caught her hand in your own with a wink.

“And what do you think you’re doing?”

You brought her hand to your lips and brushed them against the palm of her palm. “Oh, nothing, I just wanted to make sure that these things were in working order,” you said and watched as the heat rose from her neck to her cheeks in a matter of seconds. “Don’t you think you should take a little break?”

“And let you get ahead of me?” her narrowed brow told you that she knew what you were trying to do but she wasn’t going to stop you. “We both know where that game goes at the end of the day, [Y/N.] So, what are you playing at?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to get you to take a break. I love this song, I thought you earned a dance for your hard work. We can’t take things so seriously that we forget to have a little downtime in the meantime, you know?”

“...No funny business, got it?”

“No promises.”

Jaehee allowed you to pull her close into a slow and swaying dance. She was light on her feet and kept her eyes on you the entire time. You knew that you could count on her to be watching your every move. She was always acutely aware of every detail.

So, you were more than happy to twist and turn around that kitchen without a second thought.

The heart-strung melody of a familiar song was the only thing that you needed. That, and having Jaehee close to you. She made you feel at home and alive. You hoped that she felt the same way as it was often difficult for her to express those thoughts aloud. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel like you did, she was just…

Still getting used to sharing her emotions with others without feeling like she needed to ball them up and away. Her home life had taught her to keep herself withdrawn and learning how to let go of that was like learning how to ride a bike. It wasn’t impossible but it was tedious and one of those things that took time and patience to work out.

You dipped her back and she sputtered but trusted you not to drop her on her butt. You never would… unless there was a cushion there to brace her fall from grace, anyway. The look in her brown eyes never got old and you craved to see it every time that she shared it with you so tenderly.

As you helped Jaehee back onto two legs, she could feel you moving her back and back until her hip bumped against the counter. She glanced between you and the ground before you caught her face in your open palm, leaning over to brush your lips against her cheek.

She instantly reacted to your affection by moving back a smidge, her hand knocking into both of your bowls, mixing the two.

“Oh, no!”

“[Y/N], you got carried away again!”

“I didn’t mean to!” You laughed it off as best you could. Though, you couldn’t help but think the pink shade of the batter you had created was turning a deep blush thanks to Jaehee’s handiwork of her own creation. She huffed and puffed as you tried to make sense of the mess and see if it could be mended.  

Curious, you dipped a hand into the batter to give it a taste. It reminded you of something sweet and fruity, but you couldn’t quite discern what was in it.

It tasted really good, though.

“Jaehee, wait, come and try this,” you nudged her to come back to your side, bumping a spoon next to her lips to let her try. She tried only due to your insistence on the matter, pausing as she took in the flavor and nodded. “I think we’ve figured out what we’re going to have. Instead of red velvet, we can have a pink velvet!”

“We should’ve done this to start with,” she said, with a little laugh. Her warm cheeks were still reddened with embarrassment. “I guess it’s not always wrong to put things together to see if they work out.”

“Of course not, that’s why we work so well together.”

“Pffft, hahaha. I think this is going to turn out great.”

“Us, or the cakes?”

“Both.”

[fandom-collective-writers]

The Transit of Venus (Nobunaga Oda x MC)

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Pairing: Nobunaga Oda x MC

Prompt: Eclipse, hide n’ seek, scavenger hunt, shooting stars

Warning: Smut!

Intended Audience: Female Audience

Word Count: 3,495

Requested by: @nad-zeta​

Written by: @lordsisterxotome​

Disclaimer: I do not own Ikemen Sengoku or any of its characters. All of that goodness is the property of Cybird. I do, however, own the plot of this fanfic. Please do not repost this on any other website.

Other notes: My left arm is still in a cast so it took me way too long to type this.^^;

       It started with an innocent conversation. 

       Nobunaga was hungry for knowledge, the kind that was commonplace in her time thanks to the advances of modern technology but undiscovered in the Sengoku period. MC couldn’t remember how they had gotten on the topic of the stars and planets while lazing in bed, but before she knew it, she was explaining the types of eclipses to him, including the rarest of them all.

       “It’s called the transit of Venus,” she murmured, tracing circles on her lover’s calloused palm as she lay nestled comfortably against his chest. “And it happens every 243 years in pairs spaced eight years apart.”

       It had been relatively useless knowledge up until now, floating around in her brain amongst other miscellaneous facts, but it seemed to interest her warlord, whose red eyes gleamed in interest as she spoke. “What’s Venus?” he asked, pulling her closer as if he could cuddle the answers out of her. 

       “It’s a planet, the second from the sun,” she replied, closing her eyes and snuggling closer to the warmth of his chest. “It’s named after the Roman goddess of beauty, love, and prosperity.”

       Nobunaga hummed, his hand ghosting along her bare side and making her shiver. “I’ve never heard of such a goddess.” MC could feel him smirking down at her, and she opened one eye to peer lazily up at him, her suspicions confirmed. Reaching up, she buried a hand in the dark hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him down for a long kiss, feeling him smile against her lips. 

       “Tell me more,” he purred, lips brushing hers as he spoke.

       “Shouldn’t we be getting up now?” Chuckling, she brushed his hair away from his forehead. “I think we’ve stayed in bed long enough and Hideyoshi won’t be happy if I’m distracting his lord from his duties.”

       He groaned but let her roll away from him with a quick kiss to his jaw. She could feel his gaze on her, drinking in the sight of her, as she rose from the bed and the blankets fell away to expose her naked body. Her lips curled in a coy smile as she peered at him over her shoulder, watching the way his eyes roved over her hungrily. “Nobunaga,” she said warningly, an amused edge to her tone. “You have things to do today, a country to unite, konpeito to steal.”

       “I believe I can fit ravaging my lover into my schedule,” he replied, the blankets falling away from his bare chest as he raised himself to his elbows.

       MC snorted, pulling on her kimono and cinching it closed over her chest before reaching for her obi. “If I remember correctly, you have a council in an hour.”

       Muscular arms wrapped around her waist, undoing the progress she had made on her obi as a hot mouth descended on her neck. Biting her lip, she tried not to moan as her lover sucked at her pulse, his hand parting her kimono to cup her sex. “You don’t think I can satisfy you in an hour?” he murmured, making her shiver as he left open mouthed kisses along her neck and shoulder. A thick finger parted her folds, searching for the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. 

        What he was proposing really did sound quite tempting. A little more time spent in the arms of the love of her life? She would never complain about that...except the love of her life was also a warlord whose actions would shape Japan’s feudal history, sooo…

       “Thanks, but I have things to do today that require me being able to walk.” Nobunaga grunted in disapproval when she slipped out of his arms again and bent to snatch her obi off the floor, tying it into place properly this time. His mouth was set in a sour line when MC next looked at him, glaring eyes burning a hole in the floor as he pulled his clothes on as well. 

       Biting her lip, she debated the consequences of her next words. Despite her rejection of his invitation to stay in bed a little longer, she couldn’t deny the ache of want deep inside of her, ever yearning for the one she loved. What could she say? She was weak for that adorable pout.

       “Later…” MC began and his eyes snapped to hers, the intensity in their depths startling. “If you find me, I’ll let you continue what you were doing...you know, a second ago…” Her cheeks burned as she said it, looking at him through her lashes as a hungry grin broke across his face.

       “Is that an invitation to play a game, fireball?” It seemed she’d awakened the competitive side of him, the part that played any game to dominate and win, and he’d decided she was the prize.

       “M-Maybe.”

       “Then I accept.” Donning his white haori with a flourish, a shiver went down her spine as Nobunaga’s red stare pinned her in place, his presence wrapping around her even though he stood across the room. She saw his muscles bunch a second before she realized what was about to happen, and ducked through the door just as his arms closed around the empty space where she had been standing a second before.

       “Nobunaga!” she half giggled, half screamed his name as she escaped down the hall, his booming laughter echoing after her. Her heart was still pounding when she reached the seamstress’ hall and she cupped her blushing cheeks in her hands, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, before opening the door.

       What was left of the morning went by without incident, but thoughts of Nobunaga and their little game lingered at the back of MC’s mind. For the first few hours, she startled every time the door opened or someone called her name, but her jumpiness wore off as the day continued, slowly blending into afternoon. 

       Maybe he really was too busy to make good on his determination to win? No, that wasn’t like him at all. Whatever it was, her guard dropped bit by bit, making his first attack that much more surprising when it finally did come.

       She was walking around the corner, going through a bundle of letters that needed to be delivered, when hot breath tickled her ear, making her squeak as a tongue licked the shell. “You’ve left yourself open, fireball.”

       Without a glance, she bolted, racing down the hall and making erratic turns down the winding corridors. A couple of times, MC swore she could feel his heat at her back, his arms closing around her, but when she finally stopped, out of breath and exhilarated, Nobunaga was nowhere to be seen. 

       Exhaling slowly, she leaned against the wall, a hand to her racing heart. He was more serious about this than she’d thought, using the same tact and patience she had experienced firsthand during their games of strip go. It was his plan to leave her alone until she had let her guard down, until she wasn’t expecting him to make a move. 

       Peeking back around the corner, MC took a deep breath, biting back a smile. If he was going to be serious, then so was she.

       The rest of the afternoon was spent in a careful game of hide n’ seek. She knew she probably looked strange sneaking around the hallways, but she didn’t have much choice if she was going to successfully evade her observant boyfriend. Hiding away in her room all day wasn’t an option, not when she had work to do, and besides, Nobunaga would find her all too easily if she stayed in one place. 

       More than once, she had to dodge his wandering hands reaching to capture her when she passed an open door. A couple of times she swore she felt his hawk-like gaze, watching her as she spoke with one of the other warlords or scampered across an open courtyard. It seemed no matter how careful she was, he always knew where she was or where she was going next, and the chase thrilled her, her thighs rubbing together at the thought of what awaited her when he did catch her. 

       The game finally started winding towards its resolution when MC went out into town to order more fabric to be delivered to the castle. Her usual seller had gotten a new shipment of fabrics and she had immediately become enraptured by the new colors and dye patterns. It wouldn’t hurt to relax a little, she figured. There was no way Nobunaga could seek her all day and keep up with his workload.

       She was speaking with the salesman and trying to decide between two different patterns when she saw his eyes focus over her shoulder, a respectful smile stretching his weathered cheeks. Her head turned to see what, who, he was looking at, but a hard body pressed against hers from behind before she could, wrapping her in a familiar embrace. 

       “Have all of the items she’s looked at sent to the castle.” Nobunaga’s breath teased her hair as he spoke, obvious satisfaction in his tone as he said, lower, “Found you, fireball.”

       The salesman clasped his hands in front of him, bowing. “As you wish, my lord. Your lady has impeccable taste as always.”

       “I would expect nothing less,” Nobunaga purred, his grip tightening even though she had no way to escape even if she wanted to. 

       MC wanted to ask him how he’d found her, how he’d managed to be one step behind her all day, but she waited until he’d arranged payment for the fabric and taken her hand to lead her through the busy streets, headed for the outskirts of the city. The sun was sinking below the horizon when they finally emerged on a grassy field, the sky darkening above them. 

       “How did you know where I was?” she asked as his pace eased to a stroll through the tall grass.

       Nobunaga chuckled, his hand squeezing hers. “You didn’t think I’d know your schedule by now? I’ve been following you all day.”

       Her steps halted and she frowned at him as he looked down at her in amusement. “Then you could have ended the game anytime!”

       “I could’ve, but it was more fun this way,” he laughed. His dark hair looked aflame as his figure eclipsed the setting sun, red eyes glowing with triumph in the dim, and his voice resounded with dominance. “You should know what happens now.”

       Breathless, she nodded, her gaze dropping to the shadow of his smirking lips.

       Closing the distance between them so they stood chest to chest, his words rumbled through her with a force like thunder when he spoke. “I found you.”

       Her tongue darted out to wet her lips.“You did.”

       His hands brushed up her arms, her body relaxing into his touch, and soft grass met her back as Nobunaga pulled her down. The commanding lines of his face softened tenderly as he hovered over her, his smirk losing its edge. “So now I get to claim my prize.”

       Gentle lips met hers in a loving caress a heartbeat later, so different from his usual hunger, and her arms wrapped around him to hug him closer. His body pressed hers into the ground as MC sighed into his mouth, longing for more. “I want to propose another game,” he murmured against her lips when they parted for air. 

       “Another?” she asked as his fingers fisted in her hair, tugging her head to the side to expose her neck. “What kind of game?”

       “A scavenger hunt,” he replied, the tip of his nose tracing the column of her throat. “I win if I find all of the spots that bring you the most pleasure.” She gasped as he nipped at her earlobe, sending a shiver down her spine. “What do you think?”

       “Mm~! I accept!”

       He smiled against her pulse, his hands falling to her obi. “Good.” 

       The last orange sliver of the sun disappeared under the horizon as her kimono fell open, exposing her bare skin to the cool night air. Her body arched into his touch as his hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs flicking her hardening nipples, and a hot tongue licked across her collarbone as he nipped and bit his way to the sensitive spot on the side of her neck.

       Nobunaga purred in satisfaction as she moaned, tilting her head to the side in a silent plea for more. “Here.” Teeth closed around the first spot hard, and she cried out as the pain and pleasure shot straight to her core, her thighs clenching in a desperate attempt for friction. Kissing the bright mark he’d made, he moved to her breasts next, kissing the heaving swells before enveloping a nipple between his lips.

       MC pressed a palm to her mouth as he sucked, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak as he found yet another of her sweet spots. Her inner thighs were already sticky with her wetness, a hot pulse filling her body. When he pulled away, a string of saliva connected her reddened nipple to his lips, the sight so erotic she clenched around nothing, suddenly unbearably empty.

       Grabbing her hand away from her mouth, he brought her fingertips to his lips and gave them a few harsh nips. “Don’t muffle your sounds,” he ordered, “I want to hear how good I’m making you feel.”

       Holding eye contact, his hands moved to untie his kimono, baring chiseled pecs and abs to her lustful gaze as it trailed lower, following the path of his v-line. She whimpered as his cock sprang to attention, thick and red and pulsing with the need to plow into her, and Nobunaga smirked at her thirst.

       “Patience. I haven’t finished finding every one of your sweet spots yet,” he grunted, caressing and groping down her body. Taking her foot in his hand, his eyes fell shut as he placed a kiss to her toe in homage to the beginning of their relationship. Soft giggles wracked her form as his mouth ghosted across her ankle and up the inside of her leg, his hands smoothing over her thighs and spreading them. 

       A second later, MC gasped as his teeth sank into the supple skin of her inner thigh, her legs closing around his head instinctively. “Here,” he breathed, kissing the new mark he left behind. His gaze flicked to hers as she peered down at him through half-lidded eyes and her heart stuttered as his breath fanned against her core, coming close but never close enough.

       “Nobunaga…!” she pleaded as he teased her, writhing in his hold. 

       He chuckled, looking all too pleased with himself as she begged for him. “Don’t fret.” His hands wrenched her thighs wider, spreading her open for him. “I fully intend to give you more pleasure than you can handle.”

       MC cried out as his mouth descended on her, licking a long strip up her slit. Her fingers tangled in his dark locks as his hands dug into her hips, tugging her closer as he slurped noisily. His moans vibrated through her trembling body as his nose nuzzled her clit and she nearly came when his tongue plunged inside of her, drinking her like a man dying of thirst and she was the finest thing he had ever tasted. 

       “So sensitive,” he growled, rubbing his aching erection against her leg. His lips and chin glistened with her arousal as he panted, brow furrowed. “I can’t get enough of your taste.”

       He ate her out so ravenously it wasn’t long before she couldn’t take much more, the coil in her lower belly winding tighter with each greedy suck. “Nobunaga, I’m-!...It’s too much!” she warned, shutting her eyes tight.

       A hand cupped her cheek, urging her to look at him, and she felt another wave of desire soak her folds as she beheld her Adonis of a lover. “Don’t close your eyes,” he demanded, sinking back between her legs. “I want you to watch me while I pleasure you.”

       Fingers trailed along her slit, circling the bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs before sinking two digits into her heat. Soft mewls fell from her lips as she rolled her hips against his hand, his fingers curling and scissoring within her and his thumb pressed on her clit. The whole time she obeyed his order to watch, unable to tear her eyes away as he prepared her for his cock..

       “Nobunaga…” she panted, tugging his hair. “Mmh!...I’m close! Feels so good!” The calloused pads of his fingers curled against the spot inside of her that sent sparks dancing through her limbs and MC screamed his name as her orgasm suddenly crashed over her. 

       “That’s it, come all over my fingers,” he husked against her thigh, watching her entrance flutter around his fingers. “I’m going to give you so much more. You won’t know any name but mine by the time I’m finished.”

       She whimpered as his fingers left her, laying limp against the grass as he moved to hover over her. Biting her lip, she trembled as his cock parted her folds, the engorged head prodding her oversensitive heat. Her back arched as Nobunaga slipped into her pliant body, looking every inch her virile Demon King as he pulled back to slam in again. His hands laced with hers and her legs wrapped around his waist as he rutted into her, his angle changing to reach spots that had her clenching around him. 

       His length reached so deep she swore she saw stars, and for a second she thought it was her vision playing tricks on her from the immense feeling of him thrusting into her, but when it happened again and again, filling the sky above her, she gasped. “N-Nobunaga!...Ha...Look!”

       “I’d much rather ravish my Venus than look at the stars right now,” he grunted and MC almost missed his invocation of the foreign goddess’ name.

       “Your...Venus?”

       His hand stroked her blushing cheek, brushing strands of sweaty hair from her skin. She couldn’t have known how she appeared to him, breasts heaving and skin flushed with want in the moonlight as he claimed her. “You - ngh! - You said she was the goddess of beauty.” His mouth attached to her neck, leaving kisses between his words. “Of love.” Another kiss. “Of prosperity.” A hard thrust that had her fingers digging into his back. “Correct?”

       “Y-Yes.”

       “And...am I correct in assuming...there’s more to her definition?” Her eyes closed as his body pressed down hard against hers, pinning her in place as his thrusts turned rougher. “Desire.” The tip of his cock brushed the sweet spot deep inside of her, his name falling from her lips on a scream. “Fertility.” He angled to hit the spot again, hard body grinding against her softer form.  “Victory.” 

       She nodded along to his words, feeling her second climax of the evening approaching. “Yes.” Her legs tightened around him, desperate for more. “Yes, yes, yes!”

       “When I picture such a goddess...all I can think about is you.” 

       She didn’t have time to simper over the meaning behind his words. MC screamed his name as Nobunaga slammed into her, throwing his head back with a muffled roar. His hips continued to thrust shallowly as he released inside of her, warming her core with hot spurts of white. She almost missed it when he continued, his voice raw, “You’ve brought me all of those things and more.” Desperate kisses fell across her face, barely felt through the pulsing stimulation. “So, so much more.”

       He pulled her into his arms as he collapsed next to her, her head resting against his chest. Her whole body felt pleasantly warm, safe in the arms of her love, and a smile curled lazily at her lips as she felt his lips plant a kiss to her hair.

       “Shooting stars,” he mumbled, and she opened her eyes to see that the sky was indeed still streaked with the tiny lights. It was beautiful, but as her gaze settled on Nobunaga she found that she liked looking at him much more, the lines of his face soft with wonder as he watched the stars.

       “I love you.” They blinked at each other as they spoke the words at the same time and a heartbeat later they chuckled, snuggling closer. Comfortable silence settled over them as they basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking, until Nobunaga grasped her hips, suddenly flipping their positions.

       MC gasped his name, wide-eyed as he brought her to straddle him, hardening dick prodding her entrance. He only cocked his head innocently, chuckling at her expression. “Why so surprised? I accepted another game earlier, didn’t I? I don’t think I found all of your sweet spots earlier and as your lover, I need to thoroughly pleasure my goddess.”

[internalsealpanic]

Merzost’

Summary:   Merzost’. Abomination. Monster.

a/n: This is mostly a character building piece for reader in my False Face Au with Good Dad! Bruce and Good Big Brother! Dick. This piece is slightly depressing but here it is. I would very much like to thank @knightfall05x for proof reading, putting up with my nonsense and convincing me to post this. Please ignore the blatant use of google translate. 

TW: Attempted solicitation of a minor, trauma, and gore. 

masterlist

Merzost’.

 Abomination. 

 That is what the old woman called you. 

 It wasn’t your unusual gait or your unnaturally fluorescent eyes or even the fact that you could feel the press and pull of minds just as easily as you felt the heat radiate off another human.  

 No, you could see it in her clouded eyes and the way she shivered in your presence. She was old. She was an old woman in Gotham. She knew what death smelled like and oh, how it rolled off of you like a thick miasma. Dripping thick and suffocating. 

 No, no, it was none of those blemishes. It was something more… fundamental, unshakeable. Something you could not slough off as it nestled and stewed under your skin. 

 Even now, you can still feel the heft and weight of the old woman’s terror as she gazed at you. 

 You tried to smother the smile that ripples through your features. 

 As it carved itself on your lips, a cold sort of fear engulfed you. 

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 Your mind spent far too much of your time in someone else’s skin that crawling back to your own felt wrong. Your mind and body roiled against each other. Blistering. Scraping. Scorching. Peeling away from each other as they are forcefully melded back together into an awkward human-like shape. 

 It was an odd feeling, a feeling of permanence and solidness that felt completely foreign to you.

 But this wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want their eyes. Not raking over your still roiling flesh. Not carving, inspecting, appraising. Pausing too long at your leg, smiling knowing it made you weak. Your stomach rebelled, twisting. You felt sick. You hated these moments. You hated when you and whatever this nervous scared thing this was blended together. 

 “You’ll be so pretty when you grow up,” the man whispered to you. The excitement in his eyes made your skin itch. You swore there were boils forming on your skin.  This was the only time your mind and body coalesced when your skin tore itself away from uninvited touch. 

 The man grasped your face with large calloused hands, squishing the loose tufts of your hair to your skin- prickling. It made the itch on your skin worsen, the unsettling boil in your gut more pronounced. Men like him, when they looked at you, soaking up the sight of you with hungry eyes, they saw your mother-soft, shining undine. Less of the knife-toothed ruskla you knew she was.

  Or maybe they did know. 

 Maybe this is why they-

 “You’ll be so so pretty, baby,”

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 Your mother held you tight. The smell of lilac in her hair was almost salient enough to overcome the pungent odor of copper in the air. 

 “Shhhhhhh. Shhhhh, It’s ok now-” She whispered, pressing a gentle kiss on your brow. “Mama’s got you. It’s ok.”

 Her words rang hollow and stark in contrast to the death rattle echoing from the man on the tiled floor of your kitchen. His intact eye still staring at you as your mother smoothed your hair with her blood-covered hand. 

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From the way your skin itched, you could tell Jeffrey Woodfield was a monster. Not the fun -movie kind with cheap latex masks so fake it made the pink flamingos in Florida look like the genuine article. Now that you thought about it, you really would rather be in Florida right now. The weather would be warm, your joints would ache a lot less, Disney Land probably didn’t get half as many clown attacks, and there would be sooooo many old people to scam. 

 “Baby,” he whispered huskily into your ear, sliding his filthy hands up your waist and keeping you planted firmly against the brick wall. You could practically feel the hives begin to pucker at your hips. Your breaths were shallow and nervous as he presses your small body into the wall. You asked him to leave you alone. You asked him to give you space.  You thought about screaming or asking for help or anything but the way your lungs shrink into your chest made it hard to so much as a squeak.   

 This wasn’t happening. 

 You were 13. 

 This wasn’t happening. 

 Behind Jeffrey, you saw your mother, gore ladden and goddamn beautiful. She smiled, lips painted red and slick with fresh blood. Man or pig’s, it did not matter. To her there was no difference. Man or pig, they both squeal. 

  You could feel everything in you unfurl and relax. Mother was here. No, no. She wasn’t.  Logically, you knew she was somewhere else. Where that somewhere was you hoped it was at least 6 feet under the dirt. For everyone’s sake. 

 But with your mother there you knew what to do. Muscle memory whirred to life and suffused throughout your body. Fluttering your long lashes and running your small hands up his chest, you felt him bend toward your touch, leaning low enough for you to cup his face in your hands. 

 You measured the odds.

  His neck was too thick to snap. You bit back a snarl of frustration. 

 You slid yourself along the brick wall, inching both of you towards the dumpster. 

 “Acting shy now?” he breathed against your skin sounding like a panting bulldog. You could feel the hives pucker there too. You struggled to keep your face carefully sculpted, not letting any of the fear and disgust slip out. 

 He led the way, pulling you off the wall keeping a death grip on your wrist. A manic smile, too wide, too full of teeth stretches across your lips when he grabs your non-dominant hand.  Using your good foot, you scooped up a brick and snatched it with your free hand. You tugged at your wrist nearly wrenching yourself free. He kept a steady grip on you. It didn’t matter. He turned to you snarling, impatient. You slammed the brick into his face.

 He 

 Went

 Down

 With a satisfying thud, he was on the ground. The joints in your leg and hip twinged, screaming for you to run but the feeling of bone cracking beneath the force of your blow thrummed pleasantly through the twitching muscles of your hands. It felt fresh and satisfying. 

 “Solnechnyy svet, we do not leave things half done,”

 You stalked towards the groaning heap of flesh, grabbing the discarded brick. You weren’t weak by any means. But your mother had taught you well. 

 All you needed to do now was finish what you started. 

 Straddling his chest, fingers laced together around the brick, 

 You slammed the brick down. Another satisfying crunch echoes in the empty alley. Giddy laughter bubbles in your chest. A sort of manic excitement took over your body. 

 You felt alive. You feel the rush even as shattered teeth carve deep gashes into the flesh of your knuckles. Your mind lashed out soaking up the pain that radiated off of him. 

 Distantly, you can hear him beg. He’s pleading for his life. He’s begging you to stop. 

 You should stop. 

 For him?

 Did he when you asked? 

 They only stop when they’re like this. Twitching and bleeding. 

 “Merzost’,” came the old woman’s frail voice cutting through the vicious thoughts in your mind.  

 The high vanished. It left you cold. Cold and solid.

 The puckering of your skin returned. 

 You looked at your shaking hands. Blood dripping, still trembling from a mix of nervousness and exhilaration. 

 The air thinned. 

 Your mother’s painted lips curled into a sweet smile. Her eyes softened as she reached for you. You could almost feel her carding her hand through your hair, gently running the tips of her fingers over your scalp.  Her hands slid down to cup your face. Your unnatural eyes meet. 

 “Just like mama,”

 Your senses failed you. 

 The next few minutes were a slapdash combination of colors and sounds. 

 The wash out grey of Gotham tainted with red. 

 The echo of shoes against pavement. 

 Your breath came out in puffs. 

 You felt sick. 

 Everything ached. 

 Why were you outside? 

 You had piano lessons.

  No, that was last week. 

 No, it was today. 

 No, it was-

 The fresh, deep gashes running up the length of your hand throbbed angrily, still bleeding. You could probably ask Alfie to-

 Fuck. 

 Fuck. 

 Alfie was going to kill you. He was going to kill you and cut you up and- 

 Wait. Where were you? 

 You look around at the dilapidated buildings. Your breath picked up when you took it all in. 

 How did you end up in Crime Alley? 

 You bring your injured hands to your mouth 

 Fuck. 

 Fuck. 

 Fuck. 

 Breathe. 

You shoved your hands into your pockets, violently rummaging through the seemingly endless expanse of space provided by the jeans you’d stolen from Dick’s wardrobe. 

Why were guy pockets so much bigger? 

Wait, why were you even wearing these? 

You shook your head as you finally fished out your phone. 

Dried blood still covered your hands. 

Your stomach fell. 

Bruce wouldn’t take you back. 

No. 

Not when you’re just like your mother. Your hands move to your face feeling the remnants of the manic smile still pressed into your features. Your stomach cartwheels. 

You’re just another one of Gotham’s monsters. 

Bruce might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, and, sure, the guy has a bleeding heart-

The phone’s shrill ring drags her mind kicking and screaming back to the present. 

Should you answer? 

Should you leave it?

Whatever you’re gonna do you really shouldn’t do it in the middle of the street, looking dazed and confused and way out of yourself. Quickly ducking into an alleyway and slipping behind a dumpster, you curled into herself before pulling out your phone. 

 “Where are you?!” Dick practically shouted over the phone. 

Oh fantastic, it’s boy blunder big brother wanna be extraordinaire. 

. From the way he sounds, he’s probably grappling or running roof to roof. 

“Parker Row, I think,” You slapped your hand against your forehead. Why did you tell him? 

“Parker-”

“Hold on, lemme check-” You peeked your head out just enough to see the mouth of the alleyway which didn’t show much. At least, not in any remotely distinguishable way. 

Wait. Why were you even giving him your location? He’s just gonna throw you in Arkham. You swallowed thinking of all the minds you didn’t want anywhere near yours. Your pulse faltered. The thought of your mind melding with any of the rogues made you absolutely wanna crawl out of your skin. You wanted to leave it behind. You absolutely just wanted to make a break for it.  

To be fair, considering what you just did, you probably belonged in a cell there. Maybe not next to any of the rogues but if you had to pick one, Poison Ivy. Definitely. 

“(y/n), I’m serious, where are you? Bruce and Alfred are worried sick,”

You bit your lip. Worrying them was the last thing you wanted to do but there was also the fact that you just nearly murdered a man and possibly murdered him since you didn’t call for an ambulance. 

You tried to dredge up any sort of guilt for your actions but you really couldn’t find any. You really couldn’t manage much. You didn’t feel bad for putting him down. He was a fucking asshole and he was gonna do that to someone else. You weren’t about to apologize for rearranging a creeper's face. But you were sorry about the brutality of it. You hated how cathartic each blow felt. How righteous the violence felt.

The image of red lips flashed across your mind. Another wave of nausea rolled over you. 

You let out a breath. You were surprised at how dry it sounded. Considering how thick your throat felt, you expected a sob to come out. It sounded like a huff.  It even sounded oddly petulant to you. It probably sounded like that to Dick too since he let out an exasperated huff of his own. You were a little glad for it. 

“I’ll try to look for something,” 

“No. Stay put. If you’re in the Alley-”

“Yeah. Yeah. It’s not safe for me to wander around alone in the Alley. You and B don’t have to keep telling me,”

“Considering where you are…."

This wouldn’t really be much of an issue if your dumbass legs didn’t take you there for God knows what reason. 

“Lecture me later. Yanno when I’m in the safety of an overly plush couch where I can drape over dramatically as you each deliver your 500-word monologue about my dumbassery and I pretend to listen,”

“Please tell me you’ve actually done that to Alfred,”

“Do I sound brain dead to you?”

“Do you want an answer to that?”

“Fuck you,”

“Love you too, baby sis~”

Not for long. 

You really loved your big brother. It was hard not to. He was too damned caring and sincere not to. 

The knots in your stomach tightened at the idea of Dick not being your big brother anymore. You wanted to cry. But he was already stressed as it was and having you crying into his ear would have exacerbated that. 

Maybe they’ll at least feed Anatolii once they kick you out. Or maybe Arkham will let you keep him.

“How did you manage to take out your tracker?”

“What tracker?”

“Wait, has B somehow not gotten into your stuff yet?”

“No and I stole some of your old clothes”

“What? Why?”

That is a good question that someone should have asked you around 3 hours ago.

“What tracker?” You repeated trying to redirect the question to something more concerning. 

“You know how B is paranoid,”

“Ah,”

“Yeah,”

You smiled at the easy understanding. 

“I think I see you,”

You waved your hands over your head as his silhouette dropped down from the fire escape. You rushed over to hug him, practically tackling him in the process. Looking down at you clearly very surprised by your sudden affection, Dick doesn’t question it and simply holds you. You bit your lip and blinked rapidly feeling the tears gathering in your eyes.  

“You’re injured,”

“You’re in tights. What’s your point?”

“YOU HAVE GASHES ON YOUR HANDS”

“And you should really consider getting your name changed to Captain Obvious,”

“Y/n…..”

You hugged him tighter trying to shrink. It was a manipulative tactic but you knew it would work. Your skin started to dot with angry hives where your body made contact with his. You could already feel your face getting mottled with red bumps.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” The bumps spread to your neck. You could tell  Dick could see them when his breath hitched and his grip on you loosened. 

Both of you knew that the hives were nothing more than a psychosomatic reaction but Dick really couldn’t help but worry. You greatly appreciated his concern. You really did but letting go meant looking him in the eyes. Looking him in the eyes meant talking. Talking meant telling the truth. You just couldn't stand the idea of it, so you let your skin blister.  

“What’s wrong, kiddo?”Dick asked, giving your hair three quick pats before smoothing it over in a comforting gesture. It nearly made you burst into tears. Your control over that was wearing thin. You shook your head not trusting your voice not to come out frail. “C’mon you can tell your big bro,” He coaxed, nervousness edging into his voice. You shook your head again. 

Dick sighed. 

“Can I at least get you to Doc. Leslie’s clinic?” 

You weighed your options. 

And weighed them again.

And again. 

Calculating the odds but you were too tired.

Too rung out.  

Whatever is going to happen will happen. You nodded into his shoulder. Dick’s shoulders loosened. His hands moved up to squeeze your shoulders but pulled away quickly like you’d burned him. 

“Can you walk?” He asked gently. You hummed in answer. He let out a breath and shook his head. Your shoulders eased at that and you relinquished your grip. 

 You two began the slow walk towards the clinic, hand in hand. The silence pooled uncomfortably. You felt the anxiety whirring in Dick’s body even as you walked. Your mind reached out to him.  You wanted to reassure him that you were ok but you were a terrible liar when it came to your family. You knew the world of horrendous possibilities that was swirling in Dick’s head. He dealt with the worst the world has to offer on a nightly basis. His guilt and worry licked at your consciousness like a fire spreading too quickly. Your skin buzzed with irritation. Still, you tapped your index and middle finger against the back of his hand. It took you far too long to realize that that gesture meant nothing to Dick. Your eyes widened, mind racing through all the possible ways to do damage control. But when Dick simply reciprocated the gesture, you finally started crying. 

Doc. Leslie giving you a mouthful was expected. What you didn’t count on was her swatting you over the head when you refused to tell her what happened. 

“It was a Racoon, I swear,” You said, earning you a swat over your head. Dick was snickering at the edge of your periphery. You stuck your tongue out at him which he returned in kind. Doc. Leslie looked between the two of you and ran her hand over her face. Her blood pressure was going through the roof. Doc. Leslie leveled you a stern look one only Alfred could match. You shrank and let her inspect the rest of your skin. It was still mottled from the hug but Doc. Leslie was familiar enough with your condition to distinguish it from any other abnormalities. 

Your mother might not have trusted hospitals but even she could see that Doc. Leslie was trustworthy. Or at least, competent enough.  

“I’m gonna call, B-”

“NO-” You screamed shooting up from the exam table, your eyes blown wide and wild with fear. “Please don’t call, Da- don’t call, B-” Dick looked at you, brow furrowed, his hand reaching out for you. You didn’t shrink away. Instead, for once, your mind pressed back. His face twisted in mild discomfort. “You can’t, Dick. Please. You- please.” You sounded pathetic even to your own ears. Your mind pressed again. This time Dick winced in pain. You flinched back, your mind retreating.

“Dick- I-” You had hurt him. You had hurt him. 

You have become something intolerable. You have become what you have always been.  

Merzost’. 

Abomination. 

Monster. 

You felt all the adrenaline from the past few hours leave you all at once. The room felt like it was swimming and shifting. You tried to mouth an apology but your tongue simply flailed uselessly failing you in such a crucial moment. 

The world faded and you heard yourself collapse onto the floor rather than feeling it. 

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The (h/c) haired woman towered over you. You were weeping and begging as you bleed on to the kitchen. You sniveled letting snot, drool, tears, and blood pool at the side of your face. At that moment, you were what the woman thought you were, a pathetic animal. Two sets of incandescent eyes bear down on you-one pitiless and one too young to truly comprehend what's happening.

You look into your own uncomprehending eyes as you bled out on the floor. 

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You woke up wild. 

Your arms flung over your face. 

Your flesh was raw.

Your breath was short. 

The world around you was muted against the memory. 

Piece by piece the world fell back into place. 

There was a monitor beeping beside you. The air smelled of antiseptic, not copper nor lilac. Your breaths slowed. 

Piece by piece you retrieved yourself from the nightmare. 

You shifted and settled into bed, remembering clearly now where you were. You were at Doc. Leslie’s. You weren’t in the apartment on Main or the house on Orange or Wayne Manor. You were in the clinic. You were safe. 

“It’s ok, y/n. You’re safe now, sweetheart. It’s ok.” You felt a large hand smoothing over your sweat-soaked hair, stroking your head gently. Your muscles uncoiled and you let yourself melt into the mattress. Your skin did not prickle. 

In the complete darkness of the room, your mind searched for him. Bruce looms over you, towering but unimposing as he usually did. His mind radiated of worry, of warmth, of kindness. You were going to be sick. 

“Papa?” You rasped. The word must have sounded like a shattering plate to Bruce because he froze. A cocktail of emotions seemed to swirl in his mind. You desperately wanted to take the word back but you wanted to call him that just once before he carted you off wherever it was you belonged. You did not wait for his mind to pick whichever unpleasant emotions it decided on. You were resigned to whatever fate was in store for you but you weren’t one to sit idly by and wait for it. 

“Pa- B- I- I-” You tightened your fists around the threadbare blanket in frustration. Your mind was well aware of what it had to lose by saying this. It was once again the loss of love and you honestly didn’t know if you could take that but knowledge, the waiting for the inevitable, felt far more agonizing at the moment.  “B, I- Woodfield.” At that, Bruce’s brow furrowed visibly through the cowl. His mind finally settled on confusion. The loss of discordance put you at ease. 

“Woodfield,” He repeated quietly. The gears turning in his head. His expression grew grimmer by the second. You could feel your life falling apart. It was no surprise that Bruce had already heard of what had happened to him. “Why would you go after him alone? Are you ok?”

Alone? 

You blinked at Bruce. You furrowed your brow. 

“Did he hurt you?”

“No,” You were certain but the answer came out wobbly and unsure. Bruce gave you a stern look, but your mind was far too preoccupied to actually react to it.

What did he mean by alone? 

You’ve been talking cases with Bruce for the last week, pestering him about letting you help out by sorting through documents. Being the fresh eyes for the case. 

Then you stumbled on Woodfield’s file. Then? Then what? 

You were in an alley. Your stomach revolted to prevent any more memories. 

Your arms shot up grabbing Bruce’s and pulling yourself up with what little strength you had. “Bruce, I ki-”

“He’s in the hospital-” You stared at Bruce searching his face for something. Whatever it was you couldn’t find it. You expected to feel some kind of relief. After all, you didn’t kill a man. You still maimed him. Your mind supplied unhelpfully. 

“Are you ok?” Bruce repeated.

“No,” You answered honestly. You felt numb. With a war of emotions clamoring in your chest, you simply stared at a wall.  You felt the bed dip. Bruce was now sitting beside you. You pulled your knees to your chest and bury your face into your arms. You couldn’t stand to look at him. You just- Your mind reached out. The shape and texture of his thoughts weren’t jagged. They were heavy. Heavy but not crushing. The bumps and little prickles of concern confused you. 

“B- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to- I tried to stop but- but he- I-”

Bruce pulled his cape off and wrapped it around you, the solid weight of it gathering you into something solid. It was a silent comforting gesture. From one affection allergic person to another. You gripped the cape, lip wobbling. You turned to Bruce expecting to see his eyes cold and calculating, the kind of eyes that sussed out your weaknesses. But when you actually looked at them, Bruce’s eyes only betrayed concern. You felt like you’ve been sucker-punched. 

Bruce placed a large hand on your head. Bruce looked at you as you were, a scared kid. Not a thing or an abomination or a monster. You were just a kid.  And with that, you conceded. You scooted closer. Hesitantly, resting your head on his arm. Bruce made no attempt to pull you into a hug and you thanked whatever was up there for that.  

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: To anyone in my tag list who just wanted fluff, I am so fucking sorry. To anyone who had to read this in general, I apologize but I just wanted to write this.  Thank you for reading.  

Tag list:  @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-horizon11, @arestorationofbalance (Thanks for the push), @cloudie-skay 

[vennilavee]

as embers settle (3)

the soul of a flame masterlist

pairing: levi x reader of color

summary: you get a blast from your past. or, what happened to you in the Underground and how you got out.

warnings: alcohol, cursing, some violence, mentions of prostitution (it’s not detailed), harassment

word count: 3459

a/n: sorry for the almost 2 month delay!! enjoyy

***

Levi doesn’t come by often. But when he does, he turns heads every time. And he stays for hours whenever he has the chance to. It goes on like this for a few weeks- him arriving late at night or the early evening. And staying until past closure. Just to get a glimpse of you. A chance to talk to you. 

He never once denied himself of that reprieve. He won’t deny to himself that he likes you, that he enjoys your presence. This life within these three walls is too short to pretend and to deny himself of those small joys.

You talk about everything, and nothing. Lately, he’s taken to daydreaming about your lips when he can’t sleep. His thoughts flit to your scars, the one on your forehead and the one on your clavicle. It’s not the first time he’s wondered if you carry any other scars. 

Levi wonders if you’d ever let him see them. He wonders if he’d ever show you his own scars.

He sits at his usual table in the back, rubbing his hand over his face tiredly. Can you see how tired he is? He hopes not. Those shitty kids, the shitty titans, and even shitty Erwin will be the death of him.

If you heard him say that, you’d tease him and tell him that he’s saying that out of love. To which he would scoff.

Today, he expects to see your usual smile and the teasing glint in your dark eyes. But instead, he’s met with a frown and lines of irritation fracturing the planes of your pretty face. It looks out of place on you. In fact, you’re gripping the pitcher in your hands too tightly and even Misaki is looking at you warily. Your eyes are steely as you watch a group of men at the other end of the bar.

They’re MP’s. No wonder you look so displeased.

“Aww, come on,” One of them jeers at you, “Give us a smile, won’t ya?”

You so desperately want to turn them away. But money is money, and if there’s anything the Underground taught you… it’s to grin and bear it. Even when all you want to do is scream. Normally, you’d play along. To rake some extra coins from them. But not today. Because this one- he’s one of the MP’s you’d known quite closely in the Underground. He would roam where you lived late at night, you’d hear the commotion and the ruckus that came along with his arrival.

You’re disappointed that he’s still alive. 

His hair is greying, wrinkles around the corner of his eyes. But he’s very much alive and well. Alive enough to be throwing back your precious liquor like it’s water. 

You hate him, you hate that you’ve known him since you were nineteen, and you hate that he still has this hold on you. That you can’t just kick him out and be done with it. 

He knows it and you know it. He comes by every few months, whenever he feels like torturing you with his face. Whenever he feels like toying with you, reminding you of what you had left in the Underground. Or rather, what you had ran away from.

You hold your head high around Roz, the way you always have. Even if he smirks at you like he knows your secrets, which he does, you ignore him. The way you always have.

You’re usually much better at pushing the bitter memories to the side. But tonight, they threaten to spill out spitefully. Memories of shared sheets, sweaty skin and unkept promises. And then a face, a face you think about every day, a pretty face that makes your heart leap and ache at the same time.

The face of your friend, of your dead lover. Liya. 

When you see him, you see her. You see her stained, dead eyes, her cold skin, her lifeless arms. Her neck bleeding out in your frozen arms, your tears mixing with her blood. 

It was a long time ago. It was a long time ago that you had gotten involved with the wrong crowd- specifically, with Roz- and gotten her killed. The bitter pill of regret dies on your tongue but you push it away.

You were foolish. She had been your partner in every sense of the word. She was the one who had discovered the secret to earthwater. Earthwater was her creation, and she wasn’t even here to reap the benefits. 

The two of you had had an idea. Liya brought it to life. She had figured out how to proof alcohol and distill sugar and starch to create the perfect blend. You were thieves in the night, stealing every bit of raw material as you could to bring your dream to life.

Your makeshift brewery was in the corner of your attic in the small apartment (if you could even call it that) that you shared with Liya. It had taken about seven months of meticulous experimenting to create something that you both believed in.

It was worth it though. To see her smile so full of hope, shining in a way you’ve never seen her shine before.

“People will do anything for booze,” She said confidently, her eyes glinting, “We’ll turn over a profit in no time.”

“Even if we don’t… The memories we made along the way were worth it,” You giggle.

“Shut up, memories won’t get us out of this shithole,” Liya snorts derisively.

The version of earthwater that you both had concocted isn’t identical to what you currently brew and sell in your bar. It was a primitive version, not as tasty or flavorful. But still, it was impressive enough that it had caught the ears and eyes of your little neighborhood. And then word spread further and further. Until you and Liya had enough money to invest a little more in your little slice of magic.

Your little attic operation took off rather quickly. You had wanted to buy a nicer place to live in, but Liya had told you to look at the big picture.

To think about the sun. To think about how the sun would feel once you both saved up enough to get out.

Pretty soon, earthwater had attracted the likes of the MP’s to your corner of the Underground. You gave them free samples, just enough to entice them. And then, of course, you charged them extra for your booze. 

You were happy with what you had. Creating something with the love of your life. Scamming the shitty MP’s. Providing something fun in a place where the sun didn’t even shine. Liya wanted more though. She wanted the sun. 

Sometimes you wondered if she wanted it more than she wanted you. She reassured you though, when her head was in between your thighs, that that wasn’t the case. And you believed her. 

And then Roz came along. With his false promises that fed into your naivete so nicely, like it belonged. 

You would give Liya anything to fulfill her dream. Even if that meant giving up yourself. He had promised you money, so much money. A chance at leaving this hellhole. A chance at a full belly and a good night’s sleep. A chance of not having to be on edge all the time. A chance at a happy life with a girl that was supposed to be your soulmate. 

And then Roz was demanding more of you. Liya didn’t even know- all she knew was that you were returning home later and later at night, with tired eyes and blooming bruises. She wasn’t stupid. She had put the pieces together before you could even confess to her.

“You’ll get yourself killed!” She screams. Certainly loud enough that the windows rattle. You wince.

“I know what I’m doing!” You say stubbornly, “We almost have enough money to get out! That’s what you wanted!”

“What I wanted?!” Liya protests, voice reaching a fever pitch, “I didn’t want you to prostitute yourself to the fuckin’ MP’s so we could get out! 

“It’s just the one-”

“As if that makes it any better! How are we having this conversation!”

“It’s just Roz-”

“Just Roz! Do you know how many girls have gone missing here after meeting him? Everyone here knows Roz! God, you’re so stupid,” Liya begs, eyes filling with tears.

In the end, she was right. You had gotten yourself killed, at least a part of you. In the end, you had rebuffed Roz after that and he had retaliated by slitting Liya’s throat when you weren’t home. Like a coward. You had found her in your bedroom, the sheets dark and stained with her blood. 

Everyone in the vicinity could hear your cries and your broken, raw screams that night and for the next few nights. 

There had never been any evidence that it had been Roz. Liya was a nobody in the Underground, and so were you. But you knew it was him. And he knew that you knew.

You spent months torturing yourself by keeping all of her things in your bedroom, sleeping on her side of the bed. Until you saw Roz again and you knew that there was nothing holding you at home. You vomited the next time you saw Roz, and the feeling never quite goes away even now.

You needed to get out, and it burned like an itch. And ironically, when you pooled together your money with Liya’s, you had almost as much as you needed to buy your way out. It was only a matter of months.

Your train of thought is interrupted by Roz. Seeing him traps you back into a version of yourself that you don’t think of often. There was no point to thinking so much about it- if you dwelled on your decisions when you were younger, you would get wrapped up in this vortex of guilt. You knew that. But damn, Roz always had a way of getting under your skin.

It’s a shame. That he’s still alive, and Liya isn’t. 

His words are garbled in your ears and it takes you a few seconds to realize what he’s saying. You cast a glance over to his table and a sense of dread fills you. He’s alone now- his party has left him. Most likely because he was drunk and being irredeemably stupid. 

Goosebumps rise on your skin. Words bubble in your throat, words you’ve never had a chance to say. You want to cut him, cut him right where it hurts…

Instead nothing comes out of your mouth. He derisively laughs at you and your silence. Misaki clears her throat, about to say something when Roz’s eyes slide over to lazily take her in.

The world tilts on its axis a little bit when his mouth opens.

“Who’s this?” He sneers, light eyes flashing at Misaki, “She looks so much like her… Like your Liya-”

Your heart thumps erratically out of your chest and your face is warm. Before you realize what you’re doing, you’re on your feet and your knee connects with his chest. He falls back in his chair to the ground with a thump. Roz only looks at you with a knowing smirk and your hand latches around his neck.

You must look wild. You feel wild. You feel the pent up fire of nearly ten years burning through your veins and you finally succumb to it. 

“This feels familiar-”

“I should’ve fuckin’ killed you all those years ago,” You scream, your chest heaving and your hands shaking, “Don’t fuckin’ look at her. Keep Liya’s name out of your fuckin’ mouth-”

“Killin’ me wouldn’t have brought her back-”

“No, but it woulda been so fuckin’ sweet,” You grin with the taste of blood in your mouth.

“Not as sweet as you-” 

And then you draw your hand back and punch him. Your ears are ringing, you don’t hear Misaki screaming, you don’t feel your right hand starting to throb or feel your knuckles splitting. You only feel rage wash over you and turn into numbness. 

Tears are falling fast and heavy down your face and your eyes are blurry. Suddenly, you feel a pair of arms circle around you and yank you off of Roz. One last look at his bloody face and crooked grin does nothing to calm the sudden hysteria rising in your chest and blooming from your lips. 

“Get out! Get out!” You scream repeatedly, and you’re not sure who you’re screaming at. There’s nobody here. Nobody but you and Misaki.

And the person holding you close. You whip your head around to rip yourself out of the person’s arms to break your other fist into Roz’s face. With wide eyes, you realize that it’s Levi holding you back. You know him well enough to see lines of concern and confusion dotting his steely eyes.

“Stop,” Levi murmurs in your ear, “Relax. Stay with Misaki, I’ll get rid of him.”

Misaki steps closer to you, something unwavering in her gaze. And she holds your hand, squeezing tightly and taking you to the backroom to get you some water. And have you sit down.

You hold your head in your hands and squeeze your eyes shut. Misaki holds your hands and kneels in front of you, getting you to breathe with her. 

Levi drags the man with a broken nose out of your bar, allowing Roz’s head to hit the door frame with a soft crack on his way out. Roz groans but Levi pays him no mind. 

“I’ve met scum like you before,” Levi says lightly when he dumps him in a dark alleyway.

Roz looks up at him, eyes flashing in recognition. But Levi just scoffs at him and turns his back, heading in the direction of the Silver Sapphire.

***

“Go home Misaki,” You sigh, “I’m a mess. Stay home tomorrow, I’ll probably keep the bar closed.”

“I’m not leaving you alone,” Misaki says indignantly and gently cleans your split knuckles with a wet cloth.

You hardly even feel it. All you feel is the quiet ache of your heart from being closed off for this long. Maybe you should have handled Roz all those years ago. Would it have helped?

Levi finds you and Misaki in the supply closet. You’re sitting on a crate, your eyes dazed and Misaki is kneeling in front of you. She murmurs words of comfort to you but you’re not listening. Levi doesn’t know who that guy was or why it sent you into such a rage, but he can read in between the lines. 

“Thanks,” You mumble, finally raising your eyes to meet his stare, “For getting rid of Roz.”

“That’s his name? What a stupid name,” Levi says lightly and you snort.

“Misaki. Go home,” You urge quietly, “I’m sorry you had to see any of that.”

She looks at you and then at Levi unsurely. Her green eyes scrutinize Levi for a moment longer, trying to decide if she trusts you with him. With softened eyes, she nods and tells you to rest up before heading out with her bag.

Levi rolls his sleeves up and pulls up a crate to sit on in front of you. He gestures for you to give him your right hand. Against your brown skin, your knuckles are split a bright, brilliant red.

He gets up abruptly to wash his hands before inspecting your hand further, and to look for medicine and gauze. 

“Bottom left shelf,” You murmur.

“Where’d you learn to punch like that,” Levi muses, sitting in front of you with the cleaning solution, ointment and gauze next to him.

“The Underground,” You mutter, “Like you.”

Levi bristles wordlessly. Your words solidify an already existing suspicion of his. Levi motions for you to give him your hand and you wince as his fingers brush over your throbbing knuckles. Despite the pain, heat blooms in your chest at his sudden but soft touch. His hands are rough like yours, but still gentle. 

“This will burn. I’m cleaning it to make sure it doesn’t get infected,” Levi says.

“No shit, I know how to clean wounds,” You scoff. Levi gives you an unimpressed look that you return. 

“Congratulations,” He says dryly.

You barely react when he lightly dabs the cleaning solution on your knuckles. Levi wonders how much of this is muscle memory to you. The pads of his thumbs press into the back of your hand, almost soothing you. He’s quiet as he works, concentration folded into the creases of his handsome face. 

“You’re not going to ask me what happened?” You ask tersely.

“If you want to tell me, you will,” Levi shrugs. He’ll never press you to share more than what you are comfortable with.

An anvil sits on your chest, filled with pain that you’ve spent a long time convincing yourself was gone. If anyone can understand the pain that comes from the Underground, it’s Levi. 

“I had a friend. She was brilliant…”

And so you peel your lips open and tell him of your sinister love story cut short by your own stubbornness. You tell him about Liya, about Roz never leaving you alone, about finding Liya dead in your bed. 

You say it so swiftly, so factually that Levi wonders if you even realize what you’re saying. Your bottom lip is bitten as you look at him sadly, with guilt written in your eyes.

“You did what you thought was best at the time,” Levi murmurs, his voice quiet but firm, “Don’t taint her memory with your guilt and regret.”

“How can I not? This was her dream,” You reply, your own voice sounding far away to your ears.

“So honor her dream,” Levi says simply, “And honor yourself.”

Your eyes widen and his words immediately make you halt the spiral downward. His silver eyes are disarming, almost seeing through you as if you were transparent. But then you realize, he’s not seeing through you… He’s looking at you as if you were a mirror.

Levi pulls his eyes away from yours and gingerly continues to wrap your hand with gauze. His touches are fleeting and familiar. It makes your heart jump erratically, and how ironic that you were in the same place when he had so awkwardly cleaned your face up… All those days and weeks ago.

Something new blooms in your chest, mixing with the heat and adrenaline already pounding through your blood. It’s been a long time since you’ve been touched the way Levi is touching you. Firmly, but as if you were delicate. 

That’s not to say that you haven’t been touched in the past few years.

“What about you? Whose dream are you honoring?” You ask softly.

A breathless sort of sound falls from Levi’s lips. He doesn’t answer you, only smooths his fingers over the bandages around your hand. Silver meets your brown eyes and your pulse quickens again at the intensity of his stare.

He looks at you long and hard but still says nothing. You don’t think you’ll get an answer from him.

“Change your bandages twice a day,” Levi says lightly, “And don’t get infected or somethin’ equally as shitty.”

“Thanks, Levi,” You say with a laugh.

He squeezes your shoulder fondly, allowing for his thumb to float towards the base of your neck. A soft caress, and then another. His hand twists to cup your cheek, thumb gentle against your cheekbone. You lean into his touch, and something quietly shifts in the air between you and Levi. 

“I lost track of whose dream I’m honoring a long time ago,” Levi says softly, “It’s just my dream these days.”

As quickly as he allows for the touch, he pulls away. You find yourself missing his unexpected warmth, but you know that’s the most you’re going to get out of him.

He leaves soon after that and leaves you with the lingering heat of his fingers on your cheek. It feels like something new, something old, and something you lost but found again.

Eventually, over another night of late night tea he does tell you. Levi says it in passing, the names of his friends from the Underground. Isabel and Farlan. He says it fondly, as if he’s telling you a tale from a storybook.

You slide your hand across the table and squeeze his hand lightly. Before you can pull away, he keeps your hand tucked into his. Surprise lights up your features and then it melts into a bright smile. The candlelight illuminates your dark eyes and Levi can’t draw his eyes away.

So he doesn’t, and he lets himself fall into you. Wholeheartedly and completely.

***

tags: @simpingmaize

[idle-writer]

it’s a date

IT’S A DATE!

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: too much cliche none

word count: 1.5k-ish

A/N: This is in response to @the-ss-horniest-book-club ‘s 24Hr. Surprise Drabble Challenge. Theme is Summer Dates. Hope you enjoy reading! :)

Too hot. That is your first thought upon waking up, tossing your blanket away as sweat drench your body, your sleep shirt clinging uncomfortably to your back.

“FRIDAY. Can you please lower the temperature in my room please?” You ask the ever reliable A.I., hoping you’ll be able to get more sleep. It has been less than four hours since you returned from your week long mission (which you manage to finish in four days) and you want nothing more than snuggle in your bed away from the summer heat.

“I apologize, miss. But the cooling system is under maintenance.”

A frustrated groan leaves your lips, knowing you will not be able to go back to sleep, you jump out of bed and decided to raid the fridge for ice cream.

“Ooooh looks like someone woke up in the wrong side of bed.”

You choose to ignore Tony’s teasing and head straight to the fridge. Another frustrated groan when you see no frozen sweet delights.  

“Seriously?!”You shut the door of the fridge, closed your eyes and softly bang your head on the door, the cold metal door oddly comforting.  

Suddenly, instead of the hard cold metal, you feel something soft and warm touch your forehead. Looking up, you are met with the familiar ocean eyes you’ve grown to love. Bucky is standing next to you, his right hand cushioning your head from the metal door, his brows furrowed in concern. “You’re gonn’ hurt yourself, doll.”

You’re not sure if it’s still the summer heat or the fact that Bucky Barnes is standing next to you in very close proximity with his skin touching yours and his stupidly cute way of saying doll, but the warmth gets worse and you struggle to compose yourself. Instead of giving him an answer, you just dumbly stare at him, noticing a single drop of sweat that slowly trailed the side of his face down to his chin. Your eyes flicker quickly to his parted pink lips, and you unconsciously lick your own.

“Doll?”

“S-sorry, this heat is making me crazy, Bucky.” You turn away from him to hide the blush that is starting to creep up your face, grabbing the collar of your shirt to quickly fan yourself. “And there’s no ice cream.”

Bucky gulp, catching a glimpse of your covered chest through your over-sized sleep shirt. Turning his eyes away when he sees you looking at him, and you can’t help but notice the faint blush on his cheeks. “I-“

Whatever it is Bucky was going to say is cut off by someone calling both your names. Sam approaches the both of you, a smirk on his face. “I swear to god, you two are always in your own little world when you’re together. Tony was just saying we can all go use his rooftop pool. As apology for the ‘accomodation difficulties’. So... Pool party! You guys coming?”

“NO!”

Your answer is so abrupt, even Bucky was caught off guard, a surprised look on his face. Sam, on the other hand, is squinting his eyes at you as if he’s trying to read your mind.  

You are not comfortable spending time half-naked. You should be used to it but you’re not, especially since you spend your time with gods both literally and figuratively of good physiques. You clear your throat, an attempt to cut the awkward silence, “I mean. I’m not coming. But Buck, you can go if you want.”

Bucky slightly shook his head, his stare not leaving you, “I’m not really in the mood.”

“Okaaaaay, your loss. If you change your minds,” Sam pointed up with his thumb, “we’ll be there.”  

He waved goodbye to the both of you (to you mostly), before disappearing behind the door.

You must have looked gloomy even after Sam left because Bucky asked you what’s wrong, in which you answered, “There’s no ice cream in the fridge.”

A brief silence followed by a hearty chuckle he seldom use but you oh-so-love to hear. He is grinning at you, “Then let’s go get some, doll. Meet me at the lobby in 10?”

You can’t help but return his smile, “It’s a date!”

He took you to an ice cream parlor he and Steve used to go to when they were kids. Even he was surprised when he found out a few days ago that the place is still operating.

After you got your orders, you both decide not to stay and chose to visit the park instead, sitting under the shade of a big oak tree. There aren’t a lot of people around. They’re probably staying indoors away from the heat, you thought.  

“You got a little something here,” Bucky leans forward, thumb brushing the corner of your lip before licking the cream off his thumb as if it’s the most natural thing to do.

Bucky’s eyes widen just as yours are upon realizing what he has done. He misinterpreted your shock, kicking himself for making you feel uncomfortable. He is about to apologize when at the exact same moment your soft laughter filled his ears. Something you usually do but he still loves to hear.  

“Thank you, Bucky,” You grin at him, “That’s some romantic comedy move you got there.”

He shakes his head at your silly comment, settling his gaze at random things around the area, your smile focused on him too much for his old man’s heart to bear.  

“But seriously, Bucky. Thank you.”

He chance a glance at you in the corner of his eye as you stare at your fingers fiddling absentmindedly on your lap. “You didn’t have to. But thank you for accompanying me. I’m sure it’s probably more fun to spend time with the others in Tony’s rooftop pool. I mean. It’s Stark’s rooftop pool-”

“Stop.”

And immediately, you stop.  

“Did you want to go?”

Afraid your voice will crack, you answer him with a silent nod.  

“Then why did you...” He cut himself off, pausing for awhile, “Can I tell you why I didn’t want to go?”

“You know of my past, right? I have scars,” He try to smile but there’s so much bitterness in it, you almost feel your eyes sting. “They’re not pretty, doll.”

The silence that followed made it seem as if you can see the painful memories come flooding back inside his mind. Your heart aching for the pain he felt before and the pain his memories are causing him. Showing his scars means showing his weakness and pain.  

Gathering your courage, you’ve decided to come clean and make him feel he’s not alone.  

“Can I also tell you why I didn’t want to go? I… I’m not really as built and beautiful as you guys,” you start, a sigh escaping you. “Now that I say it out loud it sounds stupid. I’m sure our friends will not judge me. And compared to your reas-“

“This is not a competition, sweetheart,” he gently chided. 

He softly brush the stray hair away from his face, hoping you’ll look him in the eye, which you did almost instantly when you felt his fingertips touch your face. “And besides, everything about you is beautiful, doll.”  

------

It is already dark when Bucky and you returned from your ice cream date escapade. While you were walking towards your own rooms, Bucky asked if you still want to go to Stark’s pool. When you said yes, he smiled and said to meet up in 10. Before he can disappear from his room, he stopped by the door and grinned at you, mirroring your actions from earlier, “It’s a date.”

And that is how you end up here. Maybe love heat can really make you do crazy things. You clutch the towel at your chest, and with a shaky breath, you walk out of the changing room. No one is around except the lone figure on the far edge of the pool. Letting the towel fall and pool over your feet, you walk closer. 

 Overseeing the city lights, Bucky’s back is turned to you. Even with only the moon illuminating the night, you can see the scars running through his back and his left shoulder where they are more prominent. Scars he sees as weakness, but you see them as strength. A testimony of his courage.  

He turn his head slightly to the side, making you catch a glimpse of his profile, you can barely make out a smug grin on his lips. “Can I turn around now, doll?”

You yelp in surprise and immediately jump in the pool, an attempt to hide your body last minute. You slowly swim towards him, sinking as you approach until only your nose up are visible. Bucky chuckles at your antics and as you reach his side, your eyes widen at the view. You are in awe at the sight of the different colored city lights as they blend perfectly with the night sky and the constellations above.  

You are unaware that you’ve stood up, exposing your chest up to the chill air and shivered. Bucky put his arms around you, his warm chest pressing at your back. You look up at him, a fond smile on your face, “Bucky, it’s beautiful.”

And as he looks down at you, with your eyes twinkling like the constellations above, he knows. What he’s looking at is beautiful.  

[jawritter]

Broken Me...

Ch. 2

Summery: The Dallas Convention couldn't have come at a worse time for Jensen. His world fell apart earlier that morning, but was expected to just act like everything was normal. You and a friend were at the convention for her birthday. Life hasn't been that great for you either, but a forced meeting on stage changes two worlds. Will you be able to put this broken man back together again...

Series Warings: Cheating, shitty marriage, Danneel is a bitch, I unfortunately have to put that as a warning because some people tend to get turnt up about it if you don’t... Smut, Crying, Suiside Attempt, brief discription of suicide attempt and recovery, depression, hints of self loathing, language. I think that’s it... Suicide Trigger warnings will be placed over each chapter!

Chapter Warnings: Singing in front of a crowd, crying Jensen, freaked out reader I guess? Language.. I think that’s it..

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 2315

A/N: BINGE READ TIME!! As always all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is gold!! Hope you all enjoy this one!!

Want More? Check out my masterlist!!

****MASTERLIST****

Rob and the band had really outdone themselves tonight, and  you hadn't had this much fun since your ex-fiance had taken you to Austin,Texas when Nathaniel Ratcliffe was playing on Austin city limits. 

It had been a long, hard transition to being alone...

You and Damon had been together for almost five years...

Learning how to live 'alone' was difficult to say the least, especially when you thought you had found your person, only to be proven very wrong.... 

Thank God y/f/n had been letting you crash in her guest room until you got your shit together, because when you two separated you didn’t know what was going to happen to you, or where you were even going to stay.... 

The two of you had been friends since kindergarten, and she knew you better than anyone else. So she knew not to push you into another relationship with some other douche bag just so that you would 'get over' Damon like the rest of your family were trying to do.

"Okay guys, I know there's one person who you've all been waiting for most of the night." 

The crowd was already screaming, and Rob was laughing at the fact that he didn't even have a chance to finish the sentence before the people started screaming. 

"Mr. Jensen Ackles could you come out here please sir!!" He yelled into the mic, and everybody lost their minds.

The sheer energy in the room was almost breathtaking..

Jensen came jogging up the stairs, and walked toward the mic as the crowd continued to scream. 

You have watched a lot of con videos since discovering SPN, probably to the point of a mold obsession, still on almost all the videos Jensen seemed…. Lighter? Then he did right now. 

The smile he wore now was cold, and unnatural. 

Forced…. 

Not quite reaching his eyes.... 

"Hello Dallas." He all but growls into the mic as the band starts to play the intro to Whipping Post. 

In that instant you were completely lost in the music, forgetting about your freating, and your habit of over analyzing everything, and just enjoying the moment . 

If you thought Jensen was hot just from watching him on TV, the man looked even better up close, and you were completely lost in him, must like you were sure just about everyone else in the room was. He had this ability to capture the stage, and the presents of everyone in the room. Not to mention he was extremely talented…  

You closely watched every move he made, letting the music overtake you, bringing you to a place we're for just a moment there was no pain, no bad memories, no heart break. 

Just Jensen and his voice... 

As he wrapped up the chorus of the song he came to the edge of the stage. Propping his Foot on the speaker close enough that you could almost touch him. 

When he looked down at you a cocky smirk spread across his face, and he winked. 

You damn near passed out, and your friend was next to you completely losing her mind. Grabbing your arm, shaking you screaming "Holy shit Jensen Fucking Ackles just winked at you!!"

You couldn't believe it… Surely he was just playing with the crowd, and only winked because he saw the camera sitting between the two of you...

As the song wrapped Jensen and Rob lean over, and whisper something to each other. Rob then looked your way, smirking at you. You didn’t really notice it though, because when Jensen walked back into the house lights you noticed he had the same shirt on as the guy from the elevator….

It was in that moment that you knew he’d heard you talking to Y/F/N about singing with him, and you had this sinking feeling you were about to be fuck, and not in the fun way...

"Shit." You said out loud, and Jensen stood there smiling at you like he'd read your lips. 

"What's wrong?" Y/f/n yelled over the noise of the crowd. Noticing the color drain from your face all of the sudden..

 "Jensen was in the elevator, he heard our conversation. He heard what you said about singing with him on stage." You yelled back at her over the noise, and to your horror she burst out into a fit of laughter.

You had never wanted to strangle someone so bad, but there was a room full of witnesses, you did make a mental note to get her back for this when you got back to the motel room.

"Hey Jensen," Rob said loudly over the mic. "What about that story you were telling me backstage... About the girls that you and Jared overheard in the elevator on the way to the concert tonight? Something about her friend wanting you to sing with her for her birthday? Wouldn't it be hysterical if they were, oh I don't, right in the front row over there." Rob says pointing right at you. 

The spot light following his finger, landing right in you, and if you could have fallen through the floor, and disappeared you would have done it. 

You tried to hide by sinking back into the crowd, but to no avail...

Jensen had already walked off of the stage, and was standing only about a  foot in front of you now with his hand out.

"Come on." He says, grinning at you. "It's your friend here's birthday wish after all. We can’t disappoint her.." He gave you another winking, and you wanted the floor to open up so you could jump in. The crowd all started making noises at once, and your friend started pushing you toward him.. 

Looks like this was happening, and there was nothing you could do about it without looking like the world’s biggest asshole there ever was..

Reluctantly you grabbed his hand, and allowed him to pull you to the stage. 

The crowd cheered for you, but you didn't really hear any of that. All you could concentrate on was Jensen's hand intertwined in your own. 

Feeling ever callous. 

His strong grip. 

Your skin tingling wherever his skin touched yours.

"Now if I heard your friend correctly you sing right?" He said, placing a mic in front of you, beautiful forest green eyes meeting your own y/e/c eyes.  

"That's what they tell me." You say, never breaking eye contact with him.

 "And, if I heard correctly, she wanted you to sing with me as her birthday present." He was smirking at you now, clearly enjoying himself. 

"That's what I heard."

You never broke eye contact with him as you two seemed to continue the game of twenty questions he was playing with you. 

"Well my final question Ms.?" He said, pausing for you to say your name. 

"Y/n"

 "Right, sorry, I forgot to ask you that." He threw his head back into one of his whole body laughs before continuing.. 

"If I heard correctly again she also requested the song Picture, by Kid rock and Sheryl Crow." He finally broke contact with you, and was typing on the tablet Rob had sat in front of him. 

"That's what she said." You retort back to him, earning yourself a smart ass look that before he continued…

"Well it just so happens Google was able to knock the dinosaur shit off this ancient ass song, and show us the lyrics." He fired back at you, and the crowd roared with laughter. 

"Well I'll be damn why not, I'm already up here." You say sarcastically, motioning around you, and Rob nearly feels backwards laughing at you, Jensen gave you his best bitchface as he motioned to the band for them to start to play.

Your momentary cocky sarcasm faded, and your stomach was doing flips with nerves. Until you heard his smooth yet ruff voice melt into you with the melody. Pulling you into your happy place.

Living my life in a slow hell

Different girl every night at the hotel

I ain't seen the sunshine in three damn days

Been fueling up on cocaine and whisky

Wish I had a good girl to miss me

Oh Lord I wonder if I'll ever change my ways

I put your picture away

Sat down and cried today

I can't look at you

While I'm lying next to her

I put your picture away

Sat down and cried today

I can't look at you while I'm lying next to her

He looks at you and half heartedly smiles. You could tell he was a little nervous as to what was about to come out of you, for all he knew you couldn’t sing your way out of a wet sack, boy didn’t he get the surprise of his life as your voice blended in with the music, sounding almost as good a Sherl herself. Turning he gave the crowd an approving nod, you even got a few cheers out of it..

I called you last night in the hotel

Everyone knows but they won't tell

But their half-hearted smiles tell me something just ain't right

I've been waiting on you for a long time

Fueling up on heartaches and cheap wine

I ain't heard from you in three damn nights

I put your picture away

I wonder where you've been

I can't look at you while I'm lyin' next to him

I put your picture away

I wonder where you've been

I can't look at you while I'm lyin' next to him

Jensen was now circling around you, pulling you closer to him with one arm, fully into making a  performance out of this now that he was sure you could do it. You followed his lead not wanting to look like an idiot, facing him now you start with your line again.

I saw ya yesterday with an old friend

It was the same old same how have you been

Since you've been gone my world's been dark and grey

You reminded me of brighter days

I hoped you were coming home to stay

I was headed to church

I was off to drink you away

As he sang his lines to you and you to him you could almost see pain there, and it threw you… When he got to his last line he threw everything he had into it, and a stray tear fell down his face. He quickly duked he face to the other side of yours in what probably looked like a very intimate touch to the crowd, when really he was just hiding to wipe his face. He recovers quickly as the two of you finished the song, and none one was ever going to be any the wiser...

I thought about you for a long time

Can't seem to get you off my mind

I can't understand why we're living life this way

I found your picture today

I swear I'll change my ways

I just called to say I want you to come back home

I found your picture today

I swear I'll change my ways

I just called to say I want you

To come back home

I just called to say I love you

Come back home

As the crowd cheered he bolted off the stage, walking as fast as he could toward the stairs, behind the curtain, and out of your sight.. 

Rob grabbed your hand holding it in the air like you won a wrestling match, but you were pretty sure he was just trying to get your attention away from a fleeing Jensen... 

"Y/n and Jensen everybody." 

There were cameras, and phones videoing everywhere. Y/f/n was practically hyperventilating in her seat, you were a little glad you couldn’t see the whole crowd, because you were almost sure you would have passed out now that the adrenaline was fading... 

When you went to exit the stage off to the side, Richard grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side of the stage out of everyone's view. 

"What the hell was that? Why did Jensen run off the stage?" Richard said, and for a moment you just stood there shocked, and confused at his behavior. 

Then it hit you, Jensen wasn’t acting like you thought he might have been while you were singing..

He really was crying…

 "I don't know!" 

Your Stomach fell to your feet, and you wanted nothing more than to get away from everyone in that moment. Jensen wasn’t acting, something was wrong, and he was trying to hide it, so you weren't about to tell Richard that Jesnen was crying..

Just as you were about to panic, you feel a huge hand grab your shoulder, and Jared’s voice boom from behind you over the music. 

"It wasn't you." He said to you, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Jensen’s just got some personal things going on right now, and he needed to get off the stage, he’s fine. Go and enjoy the concert. You were friggin' awesome up there!" 

He pulls you into a tight hug, giving Richard a stern look over your shoulder that you didn't see..

“Thanks" you say, hugging him back before  practically running back to your seat. Leaving a very confused Richard to talk to Jared alone. 

You slid back into the crow as random people high-five you, and slap you on the back. 

You were determined not to tell Y/f/n anything was wrong. Whatever Jensen had going on was obviously personal, and you did not want to be the one to start rumors, or throw him under the bus for people to question him about what was wrong. 

So you pushed the worry down and tried your best to slow your rapidly beating heart, determined to keep what happened on that stage to yourself if it killed you...

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tag List: @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @thecreatiivecorner​  @aflamboyanceofgays @deanwanddamons​​ @imabitch4jensen​​ @rvgrsbrns​​ @bi-danvers0​​ @onethirstyunicorn​​ @i-love-superhero​​ @akshi8278​ @alanegaming @magssteenkamp​ @lemondropirwin​ @squirrelnotsam​ @hobby27​ @spnbaby-67​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @defenderrosetyler​ 

Binge Tag: 

@sarahbaker2010​

[sweets-r-cool]

Sleepless pt. 2 (Bakugo x reader)

So- it seemed like everyone rlly liked part one- so thank you for that... anyways- I hope this lives up to your expectations but idk just

Part one

One week. One whole ass week of (7) full days.

That was the amount of time you spent ignoring- completely avoiding- Bakugo Katsuki. 

According to him, you were a dumbass. However, you weren’t so stupid as to the fact the last comment he made before he left the gym that night (morning?) was basically a weird, sort of twisted not really but also really a confession. 

The girl he was talking about was apparently a dumbass, you were his dumbass. Your face flushed at the thought.

You kind of hated that it did though. Considering, believing you were the girl he liked also meant admitting you were a dumbass. You kind of were- but that didn’t mean you were willing to acknowledge it.

That was irrelevant. 

Bakugo Katsuki liked you. The angry hedgehog of Class 1-A, who called anyone he didn’t call an insulting nickname an extra, had feelings for you. It was kind of weird. Such an angry existence feeling more than the willingness to deal with you. It made you nauseous, but in the excited sort of way. As well as the super embarrassed sort of way.

Hence why you literally ran an extra lap in training when you noticed the ash blond boy walking over to you. You literally ran away from him. You didn’t even like running.

It was also why you were currently in the same gym room the whole situation rooted from. Pounding your fists against the very same punching bag Bakugo had been that night.

At this rate, it would be like a reverse deja vu situation. It was currently 3:18 AM. Also, you were already in the gym; however, you really hoped it wouldn’t actually be reverse deja vu, because that would mean Bakugo would come to you, and as mentioned before, you were avoiding him.

You didn’t really have a good reason for avoiding him. It was just sort one of those situations you didn’t want to be awkward, but the problem is you knew you’d make it awkward somehow. You and your high on sleep deprivation mind. 

You were still unable to sleep,and it was still because of Bakugo. 

Only now, it was because you couldn’t help the giddy feeling in your heart, stomach, cheeks, and overall existence. It made you roll around in bed smiling and kicking your legs until the adrenaline wore off or until you simply fell off your bed with a squawk from your mouth and a thud from your body, earning an “Are u okay?” text from whoever heard your antics.

You eventually took a small break from punching your feelings away to drink some water. When you did, your phone buzzed with a notification from Instagram.

That was odd. Kirishima wasn’t usually awake at this time. 

You gulped, praying to whatever deity up there that Bakugo wouldn’t be able to guess your whereabouts.

You were glad Kirishima had your back. Even if it did sort of intervene in his role as wing man, you didn’t feel like talking to Bakugo yet. Kirishima was a real one. You’d probably just find a way to yeet yourself into oblivion before that. Even if that wasn’t a very realistic choice.

You stretched your back and yawned. You should be asleep by now, but whatever. Bakugo and Kirishima were awake for what ever reason, though Kirishima seemed like he was woken up by Bakugo. In his words, most likely a ‘so not manly’ move on Bakugo’s part. If a bro is able to enjoy sleep, you should let them. Then again, suffering with sleep deprivation together was always fun. 

You picked up your stuff, deciding that should be it for tonight. You were kind of sore already from earlier today’s training and so adding anymore than this would only make you more sore, which wasn’t ideal.

You walked to the door, casually swinging it open. 

You nearly ran into someone’s chest due to the fact it was clad in a black tanktop which almost blended in with the darkness of the hallway. Luckily, you caught sight of the fair skin attached to the ash blond locks...

What-

Suddenly you felt the color leave your face as your eyes met with deep crimson ones, piercing in the best way possible as always.

Within what felt like the millisecond, your hand reached for the door knob, pulling it towards you with the purpose of slamming it. Only when Bakugo caught hold of it, successfully stopping you, did you decide this was the end. 

You turned around, maybe you could get in a few more good punches to that poor punching bag before you died of embarrassment. You felt a cold sweat replace the natural one, caused by working out and not your emotional state.

How could Kirishima betray you?!

You pulled out your phone.

 Maybe you should tattoo ‘Lysol’ on his forehead instead of Kaminari’s, because that was what he deserved like the bacteria he was. Friendship was fragile as glass, there was no coming back from this for him. He probably just told Bakugo so he could go back to sleep without having to deal with your bullshit. Kirishima was fake. So fake.

That sucked for Kirishima, because now you were going to make sure he felt your pain. 

You meant it. You were coming for his kneecaps- 

“Hey, Dumbass,” Bakugo’s raspy voice stopped you in your tracks as he walked through the doorway. You turned around with a sheepish frown, “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

You breathed out harshly, “Narnia?” That worked. In your brain, of course. You were gonna die. Good going, you. 

Bakugo deadpanned at your idiotic answer. His look read, “What the fuck?”

You really couldn’t blame him.

Where was the portal to the void when you needed it?

You straightened, opting to find a way out of this. “Ya’ know what, Bakugo? I just realized, Narnia is that way, since- ya’know, there aren’t any closets here for me to hide in. I mean,” you cleared you throat, “use as a portal.” 

You began to swiftly walk with purpose. Purpose to escape and avoid this awkward interaction. You barely made passed him, the door was so close when he grabbed your wrist, not intending to let go.

You head snapped to his gaze, then down to your wrist and his hand. You laughed, the panic underlying in it clear. “Hey, Bakugo. Just thought I’d let you know, I spilled dumb bitch juice all over me, so you might wanna let go before it spreads-” 

“Shut the fuck up and talk to me,” Bakugo asserted. 

You sighed, standing up normally instead of the previous ready-to-run pose you were in just the second before. “T-talk about what,” you asked coyly.

You could practically see the angry tics for on Bakugo’s temple as his eyebrow twitched. At the same time, his face was dusted with a light blush, which only got your face to turn a deeper, much darker red. Bakugo cupped your cheeks, you flinched and your heart started beating faster.

However, you felt slightly relaxed and also disappointed when all he did was squeeze your cheeks together. Though it hurt a little, it was something your poor heart could take at the moment.

“You fucking- You fucking know what I’m saying, Dumbass,” he said as you managed to pry his hands off your cheeks. 

You sighed, turning away, embarrassed still. “Yeah,” you began to pout, “but what kind of sort-of but not really confession was that, you asshole?!” 

Now wasn’t the time for you to get mad, but you couldn’t tell if it was because of how late (early?) it was or if it was because you weren’t used to talking about love or things like that. It was probably the latter, considering the only other person aside from you who knew about your crush on Bakugo was Kirishima and Kirishima alone. 

It was whatever, you already got mad, there was no going back. 

Bakugo looked confused for once as you turned back around with an expression on your face he’d never seen before. Were you... flustered?

“Don’t look at me like that! I like you, Mr.I’m-good-at-everything-but-confessions! I like you, you asshole, and if your gonna confess do it better,” you crossed your arms, fuming in a more joking way, but your face really was red and no amount of pretending it wasn’t would change that. “So yeah, I like you... now what?”

You couldn’t keep your lips in a frown for much longer as you found your lips curling upwards instead. Bakugo took a few steps towards you, his chest only inches from your own. 

You had to look up at him, due to your height difference, but that wasn’t what you cared about.

Bakugo scoffed, his eyes not leaving yours. Bakugo wasn’t even sure it was possible to pry his eyes from your captivating e/c, not right now at least. “I like you,” he smirked, watching your face deteriorate back into it’s flustered expression, “is that better?”

You huffed, “Much-” you were cut off when Bakugo pushed his lips against yours. Your eyes widened before fluttering closed as you melted into the kiss. 

It was fiery, just like Bakugo himself. It was hard not to smile. The kiss was also sort of needy, maybe it was because you ignored the explosive blond for a whole week, or maybe it was because of how long you liked each other without acting on it. 

It wasn’t something you cared to know the answer of.

There was also one more thing.

You couldn’t tell if you cared or not anymore, but the back of your mind screamed you would still not be able to sleep, too happy to. All because of this dumb hoe, Bakugo Katsuki. It was fine, because now he was your dumb hoe.

~ extra ~

“Sleep deprived as always, eh, Y/n?” Kirishima nudged your elbow, both in a friendly way and to keep you awake.

“Watch your back, Kiri, if you want to keep your knee caps...” you trailed off, glaring daggers into him.

“What?! Didn’t things go well?!” the redhead exclaimed, panicked.

“Yes. They did, but still. >:(”

~~~~

it’s currently 2:21 am for me rn lmao

[valhallanrose]

Cherry Bomb

In which a makeover leads to something more. Otherwise known as I wanted to write something gay as shit and my friends indulge me. 

Zelda/Amparo. The lovely Amparo belongs to @sunrisenfool. 

Title: Cherry Bomb by The Runaways

1.5k words. No CWs apply. 

When Zelda had invited Amparo over to her place to spend the afternoon together, she hadn’t necessarily had a plan, but she wasn’t expecting things to turn into a makeover. Not that she was complaining, she was having an absolute blast, but Amparo’s brand of makeover was certainly unique. It came with a trunk full of clothes and shoes to match, and Amparo was already digging in Zelda’s closet to see what else could be added to the pile for their escapade. 

“What in the world is this?” Zelda laughed, lifting what appeared to be a massive fur coat with a pair of protruding eyes and even a beak on the front out of the pile - marveling at the pastel pink and blue intermixed on the garment before letting it drop out of her hands. 

“An ideal costume for a show I’m yet to be in.” Amparo’s head popped out, body still otherwise hidden behind Zelda’s closet door. “Your wardrobe is cute, but it’s not what I was looking for. No matter, I brought plenty. Where’s your makeup?”

Zelda snickered, stepping over to the vanity and pulling out every bit of makeup she could find - some of it still unopened for how rarely she broke from routine - and when she looked in the mirror, Amparo’s glee was contagious as she surveyed the haul that had emerged from Zelda’s drawers. Zelda let her have at it, watching with amusement as she sifted through and pulled whatever products she wanted for the looks she had planned. 

This was all Amparo’s game - Zelda had said she could have fun with it, and she certainly wasn’t going to get in her way. 

So when Amparo told her to pull her hair back and sit down in the vanity chair, Zelda obliged, though she’d been lying if she said her heart didn’t do an interesting little jump into her throat when Amparo knocked Zelda’s knees apart to stand between her thighs. 

“Look at all these freckles.” Amparo murmured, a light smile on her face as she lifted Zelda’s chin up with the tips of her fingers. “Like fawn spots.”

And Zelda, in a moment of brilliancy: “Fawn spots are white, I think.”

Thankfully, Amparo laughed, Zelda’s chin held in one of her hands while the other sifted through products to see where she wanted to begin. “That’d be a sight, wouldn’t it? White freckles. Yours are lovely, though, please tell me you don’t cover them up.”

Zelda shook her head slightly, feeling her cheeks warm when Amparo tutted softly and gently squeezed her chin to keep her still even though she wasn’t looking directly at her. 

“No, I don’t cover them up. Too much work, honestly, and it looks strange since I’ve got them everywhere else.” She cracked a smile, one Amparo matched as she smoothed a few pieces of hair out of her face and raised a brush to her face. 

Obediently, Zelda closed her eyes, relaxing as the fluffy brush dusted ever so lightly over her eyelids with a color she hadn’t thought to look at before Amparo put it on her. She thought for a moment she’d look when Amparo was done, but as if she’d read her mind, Amparo paused and pulled the brush away enough for Zelda to open her eyes. 

“You look in the mirror and I’ll fight you.” Amparo tapped the end of the brush on Zelda’s nose, grinning when she went cross eyed to try and look at the powder left behind. 

“Can I ask what look you’re going for, at least?”

Amparo shrugged, leaning in again and gesturing for Zelda to close her eyes again. “You can ask, but that doesn’t mean I’ll tell you.”

With a playful grumble, Zelda closed her eyes, listening to the sound of containers moving around on the vanity and the brief pause where Amparo dipped into what she assumed was another color before the brush came back to her eyes again. 

Getting to know Amparo since that first letter to her shop had been a bit of a whirlwind. Zelda had attempted multiple shows of hers by then, making a point to bring flowers or small gifts when she popped backstage to congratulate Amparo on her performance. The action always seemed to earn her a kiss on the cheek, marked with whatever lovely shade of lipstick Amparo had worn for the night, but Zelda always had to fight temptation to turn her head and steal a kiss for herself whenever Amparo leaned in. And every time they spent time together, there seemed to always be something hanging in the air between them, making Zelda consider the idea of making a move herself before the moment seemed lost and the cycle would repeat the next time the opportunity came. 

But now...Zelda could feel Amparo’s hand on her chin, the warmth of her breath on her face, smell her perfume. And Zelda had a keen nose. She could pick out vanilla, sandalwood, hints of rose, perhaps even a little patchouli when Amparo reached over Zelda’s shoulder to dip into something else. 

A broader brush swept across her cheekbones a few times, and Zelda couldn’t stifle a giggle, which made Amparo chuckle above her as Zelda cracked her eyes open. 

Mistake. Absolute mistake. Amparo was less than eight inches from her face, dark eyes boring into Zelda’s face as she turned her head from side to side to examine her work. Zelda felt her face heat, and Amparo tutted, pouting a little as she examined Zelda’s cheeks. 

“I feel like there’s something else we could add here…I didn’t think that blush would look so red on you when I put it on.”

“I could make suggestions if I could look -”

Amparo hushed her, giving Zelda a look that just screamed ‘no’ before laughing and reaching over her shoulder again. “Let me try and blend it out, and then we’ll do your lips. Close them.”

With a dramatic sigh, Zelda closed her eyes again, giggling a little more as Amparo passed that fluffy brush over her cheeks a few more times and chucked it somewhere into the mess that was her vanity before she heard a tube pop open. 

Zelda paused when the doe foot applicator passed over her lips, the cherry scent rising up from the bottle and filling her nose with the sweet scent even after Amparo put it away. 

“I know this one. It’s got a little bit of a tint, doesn’t it?”

“A little bit of red. How could you tell?”

Zelda opened her eyes, popping her lips together a few times before she answered with some amusement. “It’s cherry flavored. Tam bought me a set for my birthday. There’s a whole bunch of fruity ones somewhere, though my favorite is the blueberry. Makes me look a little frostbitten though.”

Amparo rolled the tube in her fingers, reading the etched glass container and mouthing the name of the brand as she did. She popped the tube open again, sniffed it...and suddenly, Zelda realized that this was another one of those moments.

Her throat tightened, and with a somewhat husky tone in her voice, Zelda looked up at Amparo and gently plucked the tube from her hand/ 

“Do you want to try it?”

Amparo’s brow furrowed for a moment as Zelda set the tube aside, then reached out and set her hands loosely on Amparo’s waist to bring her a step closer. The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife as Amparo’s eyes darted down to Zelda’s rosy-glossed lips and the offer seemed to click for both of them.

They fell together in mere moments, Amparo’s hands cupping Zelda’s jaw and tilting her head up to meet her in a chaste kiss as Zelda squeezed her waist lightly with both hands. They broke apart once, meeting each other’s gazes through half-lidded eyes…

And then Amparo’s hand wove into Zelda’s hair and pulled her into another kiss, the careful wall they’d been working around collapsing between them as Zelda clutched her close and gave as much of the eager attention she got from Amparo back in that kiss as she could. 

She could have died right then and there, living and breathing Amparo Cassano and her stupid sexy vanilla perfume, but Zelda was suddenly very glad she was not in fact dead when Amparo pulled back and swept her thumb beneath Zelda’s lip to wipe away some of the smeared gloss. 

“How many of those lip glosses do you have?”

Zelda’s brow furrowed, and she glanced to the vanity, counting them and looking back up to Amparo with flushed cheeks. “Eight, counting the cherry. Why?”

The look Amparo gave her made her flush further as Amparo swept a small cloth across her lips, then reached for the next bottle of gloss that was closest to them without looking at the flavor on the bottle. 

“Because I’m now determined to find out what my favorite of these is. Suppose you’d be interested in helping?”

And Zelda, who knew that bottle was her favored blueberry just by the color of the cap, couldn’t find herself doing anything but think of how wonderful of an idea that was. 

[dreamingofmilk]

Prompt: cockwarming MBaku or Thor

We had so much fun writing this!, we hope you like it! Thank you so much for sending the request.

All that you could hear was the rain hitting the window pane. Your eyes fixed on your phone screen as you lay in you and your husband’s California king bed, your ears listened to the hard rain outside. It had been raining all day and most of last night, but you didn’t mind the rainy day, in fact, you enjoyed the natural sounds it gave off.

From the constant rush of rain to the sound of the happy toads and frogs when the rain let up a little. You were at your most relaxed when it was raining like this, so you tried your best to enjoy it.

Despite your other senses focusing on the atmosphere around you, all you could feel was your husband under you. And you were thoroughly enjoying it, but from the grunt of your husband you felt like he was enjoying it more, even though he was asleep. You adjusted yourself on top of him, whimpering quietly at the delicious stretch his dick provided. His hands quickly gripped your hips. His thick fingers digging into your skin.

Thor groaned at your slight movement. His hands instinctively reaching up to grab your hips. Only the God of thunder could make you weak even in his sleep. He thrusted up slightly, causing all your nerves to stand at attention. A cry left your lips at the movement, you couldn’t breath with how good he felt within you.

You squirmed, uncontrollably clenching around him.

His rough voice broke the silence, “I believe I told you not to move last night, little one.” He lifted you up slightly then dropped you back down, his thumb brushing your clit, a small lightning static charge almost brought you to orgasm.

“That’s not fair. When you do things like that, I can’t help it.” You squirmed, clenching around him.

“It’s not.” Thor chuckled then brushed a soft finger across your face. “But you look so pretty just sitting here on my dick. So full of me.” He caressed your stomach. “You feel, ugh, you feel so good too.” Thor felt you tighten around him at his words. “Besides, aren't you the one who wanted to sit calmly and listen to the rain?”

You did want to lay with your husband and listen to the rain, but being stuffed full of him didn’t sound like a good idea, especially if you couldn’t ride him the way you wanted. But whatever Thor wanted he got, especially if he ripped your panties off and rubbed your clit to an orgasm.

So here you sat full of him all night.

“Well.” You shifted on him ready to break his rules because it felt like he would be bringing you to another orgasm with just his zippy fingers on your clit. And honestly you just couldn’t take it anymore.

“I need you to fuck me. Not just bask in my warmth.” Thor smiles broadly at you and thrusted into you gently. Then with more force. His strokes constant and powerful, you couldn’t help the sounds that slipped from your lips.

“Whatever you want my love.” It didn’t take long for the two of you to reach your climax as you had both been on edge for a long time. But when you came twice you almost lost it. A tear streamed down your face, causing Thor to smile as he coated your walls with his cum. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you in place. You rolled your eyes when you felt him get hard again.

You both settled down again for several minutes, just basking in each other’s company. Your peace was ruined when you felt a drop on your head, then another, followed by another fat drop on your scalp. You looked up at the ceiling only to be blinded by another water drop.

You quickly stood from the bed, despite Thor’s protests, and grabbed one of your cleaning buckets from under the bathroom sink. Putting it in place, the steady drops of water into the bucket did nothing to calm your nerves.

“Fuck.” You whispered to yourself.

Thor stands in all his naked glory and embraces you. “I’ll never understand why you wanted this house. I have more than enough money to get you the house of your dreams.”

You shrugged, “This will be my dream home. It just felt right. Don’t worry about the leak, I’ll take care of it. There’s a bucket.” Thor nods and heads into the bathroom to get freshened up.

You walk as quietly as you can into Thor’s upstairs tool closet and get the items you think you’ll need to fix the roof and another bucket.

You grab a step stool from the laundry room and place it in the right spot to reach the main leaky area.

“Stop.” Thor’s authoritarian voice stops you in your tracks. You hand flies to your stomach protectively.

“I was just going to do it myself.” You say meekly as Thor approaches you and glances up at the ceiling. He quietly takes the items from your hand and climbs the step stool to start the work.

“You would not have even been able to reach this anyway. What were you thinking?” Thor starts patching up the roof the best he can.

“That our roof was leaking.” You respond with a slight attitude. “You didn’t seem all that motivated to fix it.”

“Yes my love, because everyday there is something wrong with this house. And I’ve told you before and will say it again. I do not want to raise our child here. It’s not safe for you or the baby.” Thor glances down at you and points at a tool he needs.

You glance at your three month pregnant belly and sigh. He was right. You just fell in love with the house and the idea of being able to make it a home for the three of you.

“I know you love the house, my love. But… I just.” You cut him off.

“I know. I made a mistake. I had these grand dreams of you and I working together to build this house into something wonderful. But I know now we can’t make it work.”

You smile sadly while looking at the poorly decorated room. The walls were bare because you wanted to paint them. The carpet needed to be ripped up and replaced. And the furniture had nothing on it because you wanted to make it easier for things to be moved out for when you finally chose your hardwood floor.

Thor’s fingers gently touched your chin forcing you to look at him.

“My love, I’ll do anything you ask of me. You know I’ll move the world for you. But this.” He gestured to the house around you. “Not right now. Please.” His large hand cupped your cheek. You sighed and closed your eyes finding comfort in the warmth of your large husband.

“Okay. I’ll move the world for you too. And as much as I love this house. I love you more. So we can look for something else.” You smile up at your husband.

5 Years Later

“Okay, my love, keep your eyes closed It’s just a few more steps.” You kept your hand wrapped tight with your son’s. His giggles brought a smile to your face. As promised you and Thor bought a beautiful new home in the suburbs. It was far more expensive than you planned, but Thor insisted that it was one of the most important purchases you would ever make. The home you would raise your family in. Of course he was right, and you definitely got used to the modern amenities.

Thor held your other hand as he led you down the sidewalk. You could hear birds and tree branches rustling but you had no idea where he was taking you. He finally stopped and held you steady as he untied the blindfold behind your head.

“Ok, beautiful. Open your eyes.”

In front of you stood an adorable little cottage. It was the perfect blend of old charm and new construction. The garden out front was perfectly done, you could smell the sweet aroma of the flowers from the sidewalk. You didn’t understand why Thor brought you here though.

“Baby, I don’t understand, what are we doing here?”

His smile was bright, “Did you forget your dream home so quickly, my love?”

And just like that everything clicked. The long hours Thor spent on the weekends getting work done, the constant questions about furniture and color palettes, and architecture. Your eyes welled up at the thought.

“You… all this time you’ve been…”

He pulled you into his arms, “You said this was your dream home. It just wasn’t the right time back then. I said I would move the world for you. Fixing up a house kind of pales in comparison.”

Parker started jumping excitedly next to you. “Hugs hugs!”

Thor chuckled and picked him up, kissing his cheeks until Parker dissolved into a fit of giggles. “That’s right, son. There are going to be a lot of hugs in this house, and hopefully, a lot of little sisters and brothers.” Thor wiggled his eyebrows, his eyes full of humor.

“Yay! I’ll be a good big brother! Can we please momma?”

You could never say no to him. His eyes were just like his father’s. You snuggled your son, your eyes glaring at your husband as he laughed.

“We’ll see buddy. Let’s go pick out your room.”

That was all the four year old needed to hear. He shot off toward the front door, you and Thor following behind him as a much slower pace.

You looked over at your husband, “Want to explain why my son is begging for a baby?"

Thor smirked, “I may or may not have shown him the nursery. He got really attached to the idea of a little sister."

"Of course he did. Seriously though, thank you for all of this. I'll never be able to thank you enough."

Thor scoffed, "Just grow with me forever in this house. That's all I want, Y/N."

You smiled, "Of course, but if the roof leaks, I'm leaving you."

Thor's booming laugh carried through the home, the sound softened your heart in a way you'd never felt before.

"Deal."

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