#smirked is totally fine but if I have to read it every three sentences

[thefanbasewhore]

In Big Trouble.

Summary: Bucky never texts back until he has a reason to 👀

Warning/content: (18+) no real smut but it's little steamy

Paring: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Master list || Bucky Barnes tag list. 

Is everything okay?

Anxious eyes read over the words over and over again, hoping this will be the time Bucky Barnes will finally learn how to use a damn phone. He's been gone for over a week, you try not to call or worry too much but it's not like he makes it easy.

It's been five days since you last heard from him, called from Sam's phone claiming he'll never be able to use his own. Of course, he grew up in a era where cell phones weren't a think but you mostly think it's because he's stubborn, refusing to use any kind of technology because he's an old man at heart.

Feet nervously shuffling on the floor under your desk, chewing on the fat of your lip nervously. It's hard to sit back and act like it's okay not to hear from him, like he's not the only thing running through your mind 24/7 because he is. It's a learning curve really, not a single person in the world has ever prepared you for having a super solider boyfriend and the endless worrying that comes along with it.

Sighing loudly you throw the phone back into the drawer of the desk before getting back to work. He'll be fine. He always is.

***

It's hours later and once again you're staring at the stupid screen but now in the confines of your own home, on your own time but it doesn't shake the worry, it's worse.

Buck are you there? Answer me back old man.

Five days is a long time.. what if he's hurt or something went wrong and he's trapped knees deep in snow in Antarctica or some kind of freak accident happened that Bucky and Sam are trapped on a deserted island?

But then again, how would he be able to text you? No, No, everything is fine, Bucky is fine just technologically challenged. Waiting a few more minutes before throwing the phone onto the the coffee table with a loud grunt.

***

Now it's been eight whole days, still not a single word from Bucky or Sam. Not even a little thumbs up emoji and quite honestly it's worrying.

Bucky on the other hand is well aware of all the messages, reads every single one but scowls trying to press the small letters to form something even close to English but ends up getting aggravated and gives up.

Everything is fine, except for every waking minute he's either on a stake out which means he can't even take ten minutes to call you or out of reach from any kind of service. It's his last day here, the mission is finally over but the debriefings will hold him for just a few more hours.

He looks around the room of people, all politely listening to Sam as he clears up the mission, any loose ends sealed tight but Bucky can't care enough to pay attention. Except this time the phone chimes in the side pocket of his tac pants and it's not like he's doing anything anyways, why not peak?

He looks up, just to make sure no one is looking before angling it towards his face, but just enough it's hidden under the table and presses the notification, it's surrounded by hearts and 'my doll' is in big letters.

He starts to get annoyed, nimble fingers hovering over the screen as it freezes momentarily but the words aren't hard to miss on the screen.

'Miss you, big guy 💘'

It's sweet, the small pink heart after it fills a warmth over his cheeks, flushes his nose just enough that if any one cared to look over they would totally catch the Winter Soldier pinched pink. It makes him smile, a feeling all so new to the solider, never in his life having someone waiting for him, worrying and missing him.

But what happens next causes him to audibly choke, spit caught in the back of his throat as a deep, red flush claims his face which only makes it worse as he looks up to notice everyone is staring at him.

There you are, in front of the floor mirror. It's a simple pose, sitting on your legs, arm over your head while your hand ruffles your hair, back arched so high he can almost feel the similarly of it on his hands, fingers twitching to feel it again.

He notes the way your bottom lip is pulled between teeth, red and puffy, begging for his own. Eyes roam over the long muscles of your neck, small brusies from his departure still stain the skin purple, they trail down your collar bones and stop right between the valley of your breast.

His mouth waters to taste the salty tang of your skin again, bare breast high in the air, pedals pink and puffy, knowing for a fact they have been played with moments before. He can't look away, just follows the path set out from your torso to the skin of your thighs that are strategically placed to hide where you want him most.

He's so, so hot, the temperature of the room at least increased by 20 degrees in the last minute as he awkwardly coughs. "Sorry, Just need so water."

He takes a fake sip, making sure all eyes are somewhere else before looking back down pulling his collar away from his neck. Desire fills his chest and pumps throughout his whole body with a dull ache in his lower abdomen.

Fingers press more harshly then they should, he's so close, has the whole sentence typed out. 'Someone's being a bad girl' before he hovers over the send button but it's too late, there's already another picture.

This time you're laying down, phone raised in the air, thighs spread revealing everything to him. A hand rest dangerously low below your stomach and he stands so quickly the stupid chair spins behind him, he's already almost out the door before a word could be said.

It's not even ten seconds later when the contact picture pops up, letting it ring a few times and answering it with a knowing smirk. "Hi baby."

"Don't hi baby me, what was that?"

Bitting your lip with a smirk and looking around the room innocently despite a soul not being around. "What was what?"

"The pictures, you know exactly what I'm talking about doll." He sounds angry but you know him far too well to know exactly what he's feeling. Voice grovels just enough to being back the memory of the soft words that would be mumbled into your skin as he takes you and it's heaven to your ears.

"Oh those? Just missed you big guy."

It's funny how two basic words have him weak in the knees, desire burning in the pit of his stomach as you continue. "Just trying to get your attention."

"Is that what this is sweetheart? Are you feeling a lonely?" It's pure sugary, velvety smooth how he patronizes you but you want more. The desire to have him buried between your legs is too strong to fight even if you tried.

"Yes, feeling a little neglected here, Buck.." Sultry smooth, each word makes him want to palm his aching hard on as he struts down the stairs, midful of every turn and staircase he takes to avoid any awkward altercations.

"I'm sorry baby, I'll be home three hours tops. Give you all you need. Be a good girl and wait for me." It's easier said then done, a small groan is music to his ears.

"I mean it, wait for me. Don't be a brat." Taking his warning rather low as he hears shuffling on the other side of the line.

"Want another picture, to hold you over?"

His mouth snaps open, but he can't seem to get the words out. It's hard rejecting such an offer, jaw clenching in annoyance, not directed towards you but the aching, heavy feeling between his thighs. "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Don't you dar-." Before the words could even leave his mouth the phone chimed against his ear, brows narrowing in frustration. "You're in so much trouble."

[forehead-enthusiast]

Checkmate

Pairing: Haechan x Reader

Genre: enemies to lovers, fluff but it gets slightly steamy at one point (still totally sfw)

Word Count: 6k

Summary: You and Haechan get engaged, because anything is better than the process of trying to get engaged. That being said, having a fiancé you hate isn’t that much better.

Author’s notes: remember me???????? I’m alive, yeah. I’m super proud of this fic, I think it’s my best ever, so please give it a read!!

.

Haechan inhaled the overwhelming scent of floral perfume, and barely managed to stifle a gag. His father arranged for him to meet more and more foreign princesses every week, and he wondered where the man even kept finding them. Were there even this many countries? The prince’s surroundings were beginning to blend into a blur of painted smiles and emotionless eyes. He cursed that stubborn old man in his mind, and questioned furiously why it was even so important that he find a bride any time soon. Still, no matter how much he despised it, he knew his father wouldn’t accept anything less. 

He looked into the sea of lace gowns and resigned himself.

Maybe he’d just choose someone. Anyone. He smiled morosely, knowing all the women there were only after their shot at the throne anyway. They were here to use him, why shouldn’t he use them too? The apathetic thought left a bad taste on his tongue. Still, in his exhaustion at his circumstances, it seemed more and more reasonable the longer he considered it.

He searched throughout the crowd of giggling princesses, unable to distinguish between their faces. 

One after another, they approached him, with candied smiles and words that were far too practiced. One after another, they convinced him a loveless marriage with someone half-decent was far preferable to enduring this a moment longer. One after another, they revealed themselves to be absolutely unbearable, and Haechan grew more and more desperate to find someone that didn’t make him want to throw himself off a balcony after three sentences.

You stood at the back of the crowd, prodded by impatient elbows and sneered at by women hiding their smirks behind fans. You rolled your eyes, unable to understand this need, this hunger to marry someone they’d never met. That was your problem, according to your parents. And your advisors. And your tutors. According to everyone, really. You’d been to so many different kingdoms, trying to seduce unfamiliar princes, but could never bring yourself to actually put any effort into it. The carriage that shipped you to each one was beginning to feel more like home than the castle you’d left.

You watched girl after girl leave the ballroom, looking thoroughly dejected. It was hard not to relish in their failure just a bit, but you dreaded whatever high standards this prince was going to judge you with. You had little to offer. Your background, your kingdom, your land- none could remotely compare to his. Your parents were completely insane to even think you had anything that would make you lucrative as a bride to him.

Maybe they’re hoping he’ll behead me. You chuckled.

Still, the crowd continued to thin, and you couldn’t put off meeting him forever. A few of the weaker-hearted girls nudged you forward, suddenly less eager to meet the sharp-tongued prince. 

You sighed, and decided to get it over with.

.

Haechan rubbed at his temples, barely even looking at the girl who approached him now. He’d made up his mind to find a bride today, but his prospects weren’t looking so good. His eyes caught the hem of this princess’s dress. It was unadorned. He’d go so far as to call it plain. Many princesses were after his riches, but he’d never seen one that was so blatantly poor. Most at least tried to disguise their lack of wealth, so as to make them more desirable in terms of growing power. He half-chuckled, half-sighed. His gaze traced upward lazily, until it came across the first unsmiling face he’d seen all day. It shocked him so much that his hand dropped from his face, and he stood up instinctively.

“Your highness, thank you for allowing me to meet with you today-”

It was the most monotonous, disinterested introduction he’d ever heard, and his heart soared. You hadn’t even noticed he’d stood up. Incredible.

“Let’s get married.”

“I hope- excuse me?”

“Let’s get married. Can we go right now?” The question was directed to the attendant beside him, who sputtered at the prince’s sudden enthusiasm. No one, however, was more surprised at him than you. Your skirts were still clutched in your fists, your knees still bent in a curtsy. You couldn’t even manage to feel happy that he’d chosen you.

If anything, you felt angry.

He was rattling off instructions to his attendant about the wedding he’d already begun to plan, completely ignoring you. You hadn’t even responded to his proposal, if you could call his demand that. You tried to get in a polite word in time and time again, only for him to not even acknowledge you, until you got so sick of him talking you couldn’t stand it anymore.

“No!”

Finally, he turned to you.

“No?”

“I don’t want to marry you.” You ignored the consequences of your words, and avoided thinking about the awaiting rage of your parents.

The prince blinked. 

Then he scoffed.

“Of course you do.”

You cocked an eyebrow, your expression not betraying how absolutely pissed those four words had made you. Instead, the first smile you’d shown him spread on your face. It was chillingly false, your eyes boring deep holes into his face as you sweetly replied:

“I’d burn down this castle before I married you, your highness. Good day.”

And with that, you turned and left the ballroom.

Haechan didn’t move for a few moments as he watched you stalk away, a picture of grace even in your anger. The women who remained and witnessed began to whisper, snapping him out of his shock. His head flicked around the room, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Then, just as you vanished around a corner, he took off after you.

He’d been turned down. How? Why? He was rich. He was influential. You were neither. He felt a nagging pang of guilt, but suppressed it. You were poor. His proposal was a generous offer, for you and your kingdom. You were the one losing out by rejecting him. So why? Why was he the one chasing after you? He cursed under his breath as he caught sight of your back.

“You! Wait up!”

You heard him calling, but only sped up. 

“I will call the guards if you don’t stop this instant! I-I command you to stop!”

You did. Then you turned on your heel, with a glare that would send armies fleeing, and stomped towards him much faster than he knew a princess could. He flinched as you were suddenly toe to toe with him, taller than he expected. You seemed smaller when he was sitting on his throne. You sneered at his reaction.

“Do you need your guards just to take care of one woman, little prince?”

He flushed, but you didn’t let him respond.

“You don’t even know my name. I’m not, ‘you.’ I don’t know why you want to marry me, but if you want me to agree, maybe learn that first.”

“You-” Haechan fumbled, unused to someone being blunt with him. He flared up, unable to think straight.

“You’re lucky to get an offer like this, you know.”

He saw the way your eyes widened in indignation, but kept digging his own grave as if he’d find treasure eventually.

“You won’t get an opportunity like this again. And, for your information, I only want to get married so I can finally be done with all,” he gestured towards the direction of the ballroom you’d both just left, “this.”

Despite your anger, his reason struck a chord within you. Not that that made your tone any less cutting.

“So I’m supposed to be grateful that you’re using me?”

“We’re royalty. We’re all getting used by someone, aren’t we?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, and he could tell you didn’t find the idea all so repulsive. He pressed forward.

“You’re tired of it all too, aren’t you? Or do you want to keep getting shoved at princes? We’d both get our parents off our backs. It’s a good deal.”

It was frustrating, but your desire to stop meeting spoiled princes was beginning to outweigh your immense dislike of this one. And as much as you hated it, he was right when he said you wouldn’t get an offer as good as this one ever again. Maybe that’s why he chose you, you supposed. He knew you couldn’t afford to say no. (Not that that had stopped you.) It just angered you that he saw you as someone so desperate, so needy, so pitiful. 

“...Fine.” You stuck out your hand in impersonal assent. “But. I don’t want to marry you.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“I’m not done, little prince.” He restrained his scowl and motioned for you to continue. “Let’s just get engaged. That’s enough reason to end all the marriage meetings, and then if it turns out I really just cannot stand you, we’ll call it off. Fine?”

“Fine.”

He shook your hand firmly.

Despite the way you both glared at each other, neither of you could deny how pleased you were with this arrangement. 

While you sent word to your family, he went directly to his, who were thoroughly, almost obnoxiously happy that he’d found someone. He forced a grin and made up some lies about how he’d fallen for you at first sight. They weren’t exactly excited about your less than impressive background, but weren’t about to reject the only girl who’d managed to catch their discerning son’s eye.

Within a day, it was announced throughout all your fiancé’s kingdom that he’d found a woman to wed. You managed to laugh about how all the other princesses must be incredibly jealous of you at this moment, but couldn’t quite get over the fact that you were one foot into a lifelong commitment with the rudest man you’d ever had the displeasure of meeting. It was a troubling internal conflict. On one hand, he was the worst. On the other, the same could be said for just about every other prince you’d ever met. So really, it was an overall win that this one didn’t expect you to love or fawn over him.

At least, that’s what you repeated to yourself as you received the list of engagement events you were expected to attend alongside him.

.

“Do we really have to do this?” You groaned.

“Just shut up and smile, they’re about to see us.”

You reluctantly did as he said, forcing an exuberant grin onto an unwilling face. Your carriage turned into the courtyard, and crowds cheered wildly, as if they actually cared about your wellbeing in some way. You waved gently, relieved your upbringing was so ingrained within you that you could play your role without ceasing your fantasies of punching your fiancé in the face. As you reached your places of honor, Haechan offered a gallant hand to help you down, and you almost admired how well he played the part of a loving gentleman.

It was such a truly lovely banquet being thrown for you, it almost made you feel bad for lying. Haechan seemed to be thinking similarly, and, forgetting to be vindictive, leaned over to whisper jokingly in your ear.

“Poor fools actually think we’re in love.”

You laughed brightly without thinking. Both of you then remembered you hated each other, and stared at each other in shock before looking away sharply. You waved again, happy to be doing something that made sense to you. The hordes of celebrating nobles clapped and called out their congratulations again as soon as they saw you move, not wanting to get on the bad side of what they assumed was their future queen. That was a pretty nice feeling, and you accidentally smiled sincerely.

Haechan, still stunned by the sound of your real laugh, wasn’t prepared to see your real smile. His eyes widened. It was more beautiful than he expected, and didn’t threaten him with cavities the way every woman in his life’s did. If they were processed white sugar, you were honey with all the real sweetness in the world on your face. He hazily tried to remember when he last smiled genuinely. You turned to him with a gleam in your eye, and he took your hand before rationality could persuade him otherwise.

The smile dropped off your face, and your gaze flicked to your intertwined fingers, then to his expression, which seemed even more confused than yours somehow. He looked boyish and bashful, and you wondered if your haughty fiancé had a far more charming twin.

Lucky for Haechan, the crowd cheered yet louder at the sight of your supposed affection, and he tilted his head towards them as if to say, See, that's why. Normally, you wouldn't have believed it was part of his plan, but it was easier that way. You let him lift your entwined hands in some playfully bragging way, and rolled your eyes.

.

“Alright, so I get the bed.”

“That’s funny. No, I get the bed. It’s my kingdom!”

“You are not being very gentlemanly right now.”

“And you didn’t seem like the kind of girl who’d enforce those kinds of antiquities.”

You scowled, and Haechan looked smug, which only intensified your frustration.

“Fine. Then let’s decide fairly, little prince.” You loved to call him that, just to see him pretend it didn’t irk him. “If I beat you in chess, I get the bed. And vice versa.”

“...Fine, small princ- annoying- um- pret- dum-”

You couldn’t help but grin at his attempts. “Nice try, but I’m not immature enough to be annoyed by a silly nickname.”

Your fiancé grimaced and got out the chess board.

.

Hours later, you were still playing the first game of chess.

“Y/n… Can we… Can we…” Haechan yawned enormously, which of course prompted you to as well. “Can we maybe… call a truce for tonight? It’s a big bed. We have to be up early for a garden party.”

You wanted to rejoice in his surrender, but your eyes were teary with exhaustion. Instead of the easy win you expected, you’d been in the longest game of your life. It seemed like you two were well matched for one another.

As opponents, of course.

“Fine… But just- just for tonight. We’ll play again tomorrow.”

And with that, you both crawled into the truly extravagant bed, falling asleep before your heads hit the pillows. 

Many nights passed, with an unfinished chess game at the end of each. It grew into something of a habit, a nightly chess game, always accompanied by bickering, of course. Neither of you ever managed to truly best the other, with every game ending the way the first did. As they continued, the bickering smoothed into mocking conversations, and sometimes you weren’t even mocking each other, but a common enemy. You would never admit it, but the pair of you started laughing together more often than you did at each other these days.

On some fateful Tuesday, for the first time ever, you saw a clear move to checkmate. The king was unguarded. For the first time, he was vulnerable. It was glaringly obvious, and you snuck a glance at your opponent’s face to see if it was a trap, but were taken aback when you found him already staring at you. He didn’t look triumphant or concerned, but he somehow looked… nervous. Or maybe expectant? And then you realized. He was far too good a player to make an error like this one. He was offering you a choice, from one royal with too much pride to admit they enjoyed the other’s company to another. It would be easy to end this game right now, and banish him to the floor.

You chose another move, and the game continued.

.

“So what’s on the agenda tomorrow?” You asked, with a tone more befitting of a business partner than a fiancé. The two of you had gotten pretty used to the whole routine of feigning adoration, and typically planned cute moments to perform in advance. 

Haechan looked over at you and sighed in a way that might have been more amused than exasperated. 

“Would it kill you to sit like a lady?”

You looked down at yourself, eating a biscuit you’d pocketed from today’s lavish banquet, with your legs criss-crossed as you lounged on the bed in your nightgown. The white fabric was hiked up above your knees to accommodate the posture, and catching all the crumbs that fell.

“Aren’t I?”

Haechan couldn’t mask his amiable laugh at that. You felt strangely proud when you made him truly laugh. It was one of the few times his shoulders really relaxed, and he looked like the cheerful boy he might’ve been without the pressure of royalty on his back.

“So… what’s on the agenda?”

Haechan didn’t answer right away. He was still looking your direction but seemed zoned out. 

“Haechan?”

He flinched, always shocked when you used his real name instead of a mocking nickname.

“W-what? Oh, we’ve got a ball.”

“Ugh… Boring. You better not leave me alone with all the gossiping hags.” 

“Yeah, sure. Uh, for real, could you sit properly?”

“Whaaat, I’m comfy.”

“Seriously.”

That irked you. You were just sitting, and while you hadn’t fully realized it, Haechan was someone you'd grown comfortable being yourself around. You didn’t need another person in your life telling you the way you behaved was wrong, and against your will, you had begun to expect more from him. You felt something too close to heartbreak as you wondered if he was just another person who disapproved of you.

“No, I don’t want to.”

“It’s not a big deal, why can’t you?”

“Because you’re right. It’s not a big deal, so why do you seem to care so much?”

“Can you just do it?!”

“No! Didn’t you get on me for- for ‘enforcing those antiquities’ or whatever? Now you’ve got a problem with the way I sit or how I dress-”

“It’s not- it’s not like that!”

“Then what?!” You flared up at him further, as did he, but he seemed less angry and more... agitated. You laughed mockingly. “Whaaaat are you shy seeing my legs or something-”

“YES! They’re- they’re. Um. Well…” He looked at the floor, and you could’ve sworn you heard him whisper, “pretty,” before he flicked his head back up and stammered the marginally less embarrassing, “distracting.”

Your anger instantly dissolved when he confessed that, and you flushed in a way you didn’t know you could. You stared at the ground, tugging your nightgown gently down. You’d always hated being treated like a lady, but you’d never been treated like a woman, and you found you didn’t hate it quite as much. This might’ve been the first time in either of your lives that the two of you were ever actually lost for words. Neither could formulate some witty remark or snide comment, and you just boiled in the unfamiliar atmosphere neither of you sought to create.

“Uh,” Haechan broke the silence masterfully. “I-I think I’m going to turn in early.”

“Yes. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

.

You might have climbed in bed early- no chess game for the first time in ages- but you both woke up exhausted. Four feet apart, two fiancés had stayed up late replaying the night in their minds and subsequently panicking.

“G-good morning.”

“Good morning.”

The day whirled by, with most of it being spent simply getting dressed for the evening ball. You spent most of the day slapping your face and reminding yourself of how you used to act around him, and when you heard a knock at your door, you were ready.

He told himself he was, but he wasn’t. 

Haechan took a deep breath and let his gaze trail up from your skirt to your face, and he stiffened. He’d grown used to his fiancé looking beautiful in the luxurious dresses she wore daily- even though it stunned him more than he’d admit the first time. This dress was no different, no more extravagant, no, but the pink tinge on your cheeks was a beauty he couldn’t have imagined.

“You look… decent.”

He celebrated internally for managing to say something an unflustered him might have said, although some tiny part of himself wished he could pay you a compliment normally.

Your sigh slid into a laugh, and you found your rhythm in your rapport again.

“And you look just adorable, little prince.”

He glared, but was relieved to hear the dig. He offered you the crook of his elbow, and you clapped your hands to your cheeks once more before taking it. He flinched at the sharp sound, and observed your cheeks grow red again from the impact.

“Youch.”

“It’s not that bad, honestly. I’ve been doing it all day to wake myself up.”

Haechan hummed a response. He couldn’t form words; all his brainpower was focused on figuring out why that statement had just disappointed him so. As he rounded the corner towards the ballroom, though, he shook it from his mind.

You entered the ballroom to the usual thunderous applause. Haechan led you down the immaculate gold staircase, and you clung to his arm, the perfect image of a lovestruck princess. No one noticed you holding on a little tighter than usual tonight. The band struck up a song, and you took the hands of possibly the only person you'd ever considered a friend. He led you to the center of the floor and began to waltz. It was always a satisfying feeling to watch the crowds make way for you. You looked everywhere but at your partner, and aimlessly wondered if you’d even been in this ballroom before. Just when you thought you’d seen every room in the massive castle, you’d be led to a wing you didn’t even know existed. The idle thoughts occupied you, which was probably for the best, since it meant you didn’t notice the way Haechan was looking at you.

The dance ended, and you went separate ways to entertain people who made you feel like your brains were melting. Seriously, one day your mind was just going to leak out your ears and spill onto the polished floors. It was amazing how you could spend hours talking to one person night after night, but half an evening with these sycophants made you contemplate faking your own death.

Finally, your reprieve came in the form of an attendant, whispering in your ear that the crown prince was requesting your presence.

“So sorry ladies, my future husband and I are just inseparable.”

They gave you condescendingly knowing looks, their eyes practically screaming, Just wait a few more years, child, you’ll tire of each other. You had to turn away quickly so they didn’t catch you sneering at them. Whatever. You wouldn’t be with him in a few years anyway, you would have gone your separate ways by then.

Right?

Something about that thought didn’t feel right. Not even sad, just… not right. You thought rapidly as you let your attendant guide you. What was your original agreement? If I realize I… Wait… If I end up still hating him, then the engagement’s off? Those were the terms. Which meant, if you didn’t hate him, then inevitably you’d end up mar-

“Y/n!”

You looked up sharply, not realizing you’d crossed the ballroom already. However, even when looking forward, you didn’t see the person who’d just called your name. Your eyes flitted about, searching for the familiar face. You took a few steps in no particular direction, massively confused, and then suddenly terrified when a hand reached out from behind a curtain and pulled you to join its owner. Not the type to lose composure and scream, you clenched your jaw so tight it almost broke until you saw your fiancé's face shrouded in the shadows of the velvet drapes. 

“What took you so long?”

His question wasn’t at all rude, as it once might’ve been. It was one of genuine relief to see you, as if you were his solace amongst all the fools at the ball. You met his eyes for maybe the first time this evening, and they were bright and warm and looked at you the way no one ever did. Like you mattered. Like he wanted you there. Not the facade you put on for everyone, he wanted the real you. 

Oh God, I don’t hate him at all.

“Earth to y/n?” He chuckled as you snapped to attention. “Finally, you’re here. Is this the worst ball yet or what?”

“Yes! It’s seriously unbearable.”

“I knew you’d agree. By the way, have you still been slapping your face? You shouldn’t in front of guests, they’ll think you’re crazy.” He teased you over your red flush without giving it a second thought. You hadn’t touched your cheeks in hours. The realization only made you blush even more. He leaned in close, and you stood stock-still with surprise.

“Do you want to vanish for a while?”

“What?” The absurdity of the idea finally overwhelmed all other distractions from your mind. “How can we leave, we’re the guests of honor?”

“Please, nobody cares. They’re all busy trying to climb the social ladder anyway. Besides, we’ve got this great hiding spot.”

You stifled a laugh. “Yeah, squeezing between a window and some drapes is what I call ideal.”

“Hey, it’s got, like, enough room for us!”

That was a bit of hyperbole on Haechan’s part. You both barely fit in the narrow space, and you thanked the stars you hadn’t worn a larger hoop skirt tonight. Suddenly you were back to evading making eye contact again. A hush fell over you as you thought about how incorrect his statement just was, and you both grew acutely aware of how you couldn’t position yourselves in any way that would allow you to put some distance between your bodies. You cursed yourself for not postponing your life-shattering revelation about the man before you until after this little endeavor. Haechan’s mind raced as he saw the red on your skin remain even in the dim light.

You could only avoid each other’s gazes for so long. 

He locked eyes with you, and you envisioned pieces moving across a board, your king running out of ways to escape its fate. There was only one end, and you were starting to love the idea of surrendering. You whispered harshly in the sarcastic way that felt comfortable to you, still too prideful to admit your defeat.

“So are you going to kiss me, or am I going to kiss you?”

Haechan answered by pressing a palm to the back of your neck and pulling you towards him perhaps too eagerly. A second later, you’d both pulled away, frantically looking around to see if anyone was peering in on you both. You relaxed when you confirmed no one has discovered you.

“This isn’t... a good time, Haechan.”

“I could not agree more. Way too risky.”

Neither of you waited a moment more to lunge towards each other again. His lips found yours roughly, his breath already ragged with overworked patience. You grabbed his lapels, no less desperate for this moment, your lipstick smearing onto him. Your fists crushed his boutonniere, and his fingers wove into your hair and ruined the curls. There was no party beyond the curtain. You and him were alone, both desperate to memorize the taste of each other, and nothing else mattered but that. His lips parted, and yours followed suit. His tongue just brushed your lower lip, and you felt a thrill run down your spine. Your arms wrapped around his neck unconsciously, trying to get closer to him than was possible, but nothing could stop you from trying. You caught his lip between your teeth, your instincts running wild, and you wondered how either of you had endured up until this point. Now that you’d gotten a taste of each other, it seemed almost impossible not to get addicted. He gripped your hair, his other arm wrapping around your waist and not letting go. It slid down to grab your thigh and wrap it around him, your dress’s layers barely inhibiting him. Every inch of you was so aware of where it made contact with him, and you hungered for more. All facades were shed. You were both just heat and teeth and desire, without a shred of nobility between the two of you. You’d never experienced anything so perfect.

The two of you finally parted, your lips wet and the rest of you looking disastrous. He pressed his lips to your cheek, getting your own lipstick on your face, and you pulled his palm up to kiss it over and over again. Too breathless to continue and too worked up to just stop, you let the clock tick by as you left soft kisses all over each other.

“What are we going to do?” You whispered, half concerned but half amused. Between sentences, you still found places on his face yet unkissed, and remedied them. “We can’t go back out looking like this.”

“What are you talking about? I look great.” You were both too elated to remember you should be worried about your predicament, but he did seem genuinely proud of the pink smears adorning his face and neck, the teeth marks framing his lips, the fierce creases in his lapels. He brushed his fingers on your cheekbones, and looked even prouder of the mess he’d made of you. It felt like a dream to be touching you like this. Even more unreal to know that he was the cause of your disheveled hair and your chapped lips. He may or may not have imagined a moment like this before, late at night when he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, but it was buried in the back of his mind and nowhere near as euphoric as this reality.

“No, but seriously, we can’t go out like this.”

“No yeah, for sure, you’re absolutely right.”

.

You managed to escape thanks to the tight-lipped attendant who’d led you to a curtain concealing a prince in the first place, but found yourselves rather tight-lipped too. Once you’d both washed off the lipstick and the teeth marks faded, you didn’t know how to face each other. You just crawled into bed and discreetly squirmed as you thought about all that had happened. What was more embarrassing, that you realized you might, maybe, possibly, have feelings for each other, or that the other person might know about them? It was already late when you turned out the lights, but you both stayed up longer, plagued by worries.

They must be so smug since I was all over them, I’m such an idiot.

God, I can’t believe how intense that was. What if they hated it? What if I was bad at it?

Did they only kiss me ‘cause of how much I was kissing them?

Are we like… friends? They probably don’t hate me, so…

That was really unbelievable.

I think I might really… feel something for them.

I hope they feel the way I do.

The hurricanes of concerns led to a restless night, and a mortifyingly awkward day afterward. You couldn’t even look at each other, let alone speak. Even the servants seemed to notice the tension, and you could hear them giggling when they’d disappear into the corridors. You tried to tell yourself that that was great, that it really sold your act as a couple of lovebirds, but that just embarrassed you all the more. Your fiancé was just as tormented, the blush that was sparking gossip reaching all the way to the tips of his ears.

Eventually, someone had to break the silence. If not with words, then with the slamming of a chess board down on the usual table. And that’s exactly what you did, not that who slept in the bed was something that still concerned either of you. No, now it was just routine, something you enjoyed and shared with each other, and something you were going to use to discuss your current feelings.

“C-come play, little prince.”

Even the nickname didn’t manage to get him to flare up. He walked over, still with the air of importance that was second nature to him, but his pounding heart almost echoed against his ribs. You set up your black pieces and he took the white. He moved a pawn towards you.

“So…”

“Yeah.” You slid a piece across the board. He nodded, his cheeks burning. You both knew what you had to say and what the other person was going to say, but that only made it all the more difficult to verbalize.

“I guess I don’t hate you. As much as I used to.” You said hurriedly, your voice forcibly steadied.

“Oh, what an honor.” Haechan’s snarky response was accompanied by a trembling hand moving a rook. He yelled at himself internally, and attempted to be as honest as he could. “I… suppose you’re not unbearable.” The biting words didn’t sting, nor did they flow the way they once did. It saddened both players, even though it had only been a day since you both had been without the banter of your best friend. Slowly, you started to regret the night before, the ecstatic memories being clouded with the fear that you might lose the most important person to you because of it. 

“I-”

“I-”

“Oh, sorry, you start-”

“No, you-”

“No-”

“Okay, fine!” You huffed, accepting the initiative. You pushed your rook straight forward. “I… have always hated the idea of getting married. Everything about it- the formalities, the responsibilities, the princes, ugh. Awful.”

“Gee, thanks.” 

“I’m not done, okay!” Pieces shuffled around the board as you tried to organize your thoughts. “If I… had to marry someone…” Your sentence trailed off, and Haechan leaned forward, ears itching to hear the conclusion. You stared at the board, and he steeled himself. It would’ve been a blow to his persistent pride if he just waited for you to say everything.

“I’m…” What did he need to say first? His mind blanked, and he just let the words fall from his lips. “I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widened, but remained fixed on the game. “For what?”

“For not listening to you. The first day we met. I didn’t… treat you the way I should’ve. I’m sorry for that. But I’m… also glad it happened. If I’d acted differently then maybe you wouldn’t be in front of me. That would be, uh, not ideal. But I’m sorry.”

“Um. Thanks. I’m glad it happened too. Otherwise we might still be pretending to be well-mannered in front of each other.” Haechan snickered, and you did too. You could feel your shoulders relaxing, and he could feel himself growing bolder. He moved his queen across the board, closing in on his target.

“Man, where would I be without my unladylike, insufferable fiancé?”

“Probably whining like a child to some other pitiful creature who deserves better.”

The clouds in your minds began to clear as you exchanged snarky remarks. It felt right- pretty words didn’t like to be forced from your lips. He smiled. You looked up, your line of sight lingering on the lips you knew well before finding his eyes. You left your king unguarded, ready for it to be captured.

“I guess I wouldn’t mind marrying you, little prince.”

“Do it then.”

You swept the unfinished game off the board, feeling like you’d won, and he met you in the middle. He kissed you, barely more composed than the night before, but you had no problem with that. The two of you smiled against each other’s lips, incredulous that somehow you had found someone to love, something you used to believe was impossible. Little bursts of laughter interrupted the kiss as giddiness took over.

“Didn’t I say something like I’d burn down this castle before I wed you?”

“Just let the wedding planner know,” Haechan sighed with joy as he gave in to the temptation of your lips again.

[anigerrrr]

Just a friend from work

Natasha Romanoff x Carol Danvers

Word count: 1.5k

Summary:  Natasha doesn’t think that she’s dating the blonde woman, and they certainly shouldn’t as well. It’s not professional.

Warning: Protective Yelena, sister conversations, Captain’s bad acting 

(please let me know if there’s any I should add as well)

a/n: Hello! This is my first fanfic written in English for carolnat, and I just love them so much. English is not my mother language so please ignore my grammatical errors lol ! Please do comment if you have any thoughts or questions!

/

“So, how old is he?”

“Who?”

“That guy you’re dating.”

When Yelena started it - whatever it is, the redhead immediately made a full stop for this upcoming conversation.

“No,” Natasha said, half jaded from today’s mission. “Yelena, I already said that we are not gonna talk about this. Not now.”

“Excuse me, you almost got caught in the middle of the frickin’ building just for replying to someone's text.” Her sister’s brown eyes widened in disbelief, “and as your partner, little sister plus, I think I have a full right to know what’s happening.”

Ok, after all of the universal matters. The Snap, The Blip, The Endgame and The Reunion. Natasha let out a sigh. This world may be peaceful enough - almost too peaceful, for her younger sister to dig into her personal life now.

“It was something important from the HQ, ” she finally made something up, trying to convince Yelena. “Some information. Not anyone I’m dating, and I’m not seeing any single guy either.”

This part was sort of a truth.

Natasha wasn’t seeing a guy.

/ Coming back to earth in an hour. - C. /

That’s the reason she punched the bad guys in extra strength today, almost ruining Yelena’s nose as well in some kind of jump-scare situation. Well, Natasha just needed to end this mission. Efficiently. 

She’s expecting a woman with glowing fists.

“You may be the top assassin with excellent lying skills, but you know it’s useless to me.” Yelena teased in a raspy Russian accent, as if she just couldn’t let go of it. 

“I’ll take the compliment.”

“And does that mean you’re actually lying to me?”

Natasha smirked, taking off her suit as she replied to the blonde. “You’re less annoying when you’re still a little girl.”

She tried to pretend nothing actually happened in this present, and that’s what she should do for sure. She’s still an Avenger, reborn in the mysterious deal between Captain Marvel and the Soul Stone keeper after the war. 

Carol was there, shining like stars in the darkest underground. Vormir was a place of exchange, a place where only sacrifice made deals. But when it was about Carol, nothing seemed impossible to make a miracle in her hands. 

-It was easy, you know. I just asked him to return what we had left in that shit place.

-Yeah, I asked him nicely. See this smile? That’s how I got Nat back.

No one believed this story. It didn’t matter anyway, especially when these avengers witnessed Natasha taken back by Carol without any visible injuries.

Maybe just like how she found Tony and took him back at an unbelievable speed, there’s something always mysterious with Carol.

They supposed. 

“If you’re taking good care of yourself as Fanny is, I wouldn’t have asked.” Yelena rolled her eyes, and suddenly she saw something unusual on her sister’s back.

“Wait, Natasha. What is that?” As Yelena leaned closer, she narrowed her brown eyes to observe the unusual mark left on Natasha’s back. “It looks like a bite. Oh my God, are you turning into a vampire or something? “

She realized that maybe Yelena didn’t know what love marks were. As far as she knew, her younger sister hadn’t dated anyone since the collapse of the red room. 

“There’s no bite, Yelena. You’re exaggerating, it’s probably just a scratch from the fight.” Natasha pulled down her black tank top, adding an extra leather jacket she didn’t usually wear.

There’s a bite. 

And it took all her efforts to stay impeccable in front of her sister every time she felt it burning silently, especially after taking a shower or punching someone really hard. 

Carol did that. 

“Alright then, time for dinner?” Yelena shrugged, putting her oversized hoodie on. 

“Yeah, sure.” Natasha didn’t catch the full sentence from her partner-sister honestly, she focused more on the communicator that she’s been carrying all the time.

“Speaking of that…Mom - I mean, Melina. Anyway, she asked if we’d be free to show up for dinner next week.” Yelena said, pulling out her phone from the pocket as well. “I think Friday will be good, how do you think?”

/ Let’s catch up in the compound later, I need to take a really quick shower. - C. /

“Yeah, that’d be amazing…wait, what?” Natasha raised her head up and seized the blonde’s eyes, “I’m sorry, what was the question?”

/ In case you wanna know, I look like a total mess in purple blood now. They didn’t even act like living spices, what a day. - C. /

Natasha stopped, and smiled a bit for imagining the blonde woman’s messy look now. 

She didn’t reply a single word to these texts, but it kept coming up. It’s just like Carol knew that she’d always read them as soon as they were delivered. 

“Ok, that’s rude.” And her sister finally couldn’t take it any longer. “Admit it, Natasha. You’re apparently disturbed by someone that you don’t wanna tell me, why is that?”

Then, Natasha realized that Yelena was still standing in front of her the whole time. She didn’t pay attention to anything this young woman said about free or show. Or dinner. 

Fantastic.

“I’m dealing with something important,” walking together out of their changing room, Natasha answered softly. She’s hiding her vague feelings of guilt. “- from work.”

“Natasha, we’re working together.” 

“Ugh, that’s different. That’s…” As Natasha tried to come up with something more persuasive, her younger sister stopped and nodded to someone.

“Oh, hey.” Yelena took a step back, and she seemed a little nervous. “Cap, we didn’t know you’re coming back today.”

When Natasha met the other blonde woman’s eyes, she found Carol’s hair still dripping. Ok, that’s definitely how a quick shower should be called.

“I left a message to Agent Romanoff.” Carol showed her audacity in acting surprised just right in front of the perfectly trained assassins. “Oh Romanoff, I was looking for you. Lucky me.”

“The mission I mentioned last night, remember that? It went a little bit wrong now.”

To Natasha’s surprise, her sister showed concern on her profile. “Is everything alright?”

Wait, Yelena could tell if she’s lying easily but actually believed in Carol’s almost-too-obvious acting?

“It will be,” Carol smiled back, taking a step in to pat Natasha’s left shoulder. “I just need to borrow your sister for a few minutes - hours, if you don’t mind?”

“Oh, that’s fine. She’s not actually paying attention to me anyway.” Yelena raised her eyebrow, adding a friendly suggestion to her Captain. “Just don’t let her suspicious friend bother her via texts during the mission.”

“Ha, that’s mature.” Natasha couldn’t help but roll her eyes back again, she knew Carol was trying to not let out a laugh. This woman is literally shining right now.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, totally.” Carol winked in a way that Natasha suspected she'd done this a thousand times. 

“See you later then, young lady.”

When they left the compound, Natasha shut the door of the training room and almost hit the blonde’s pretty nose.

“Are you fucking serious?” Natasha said as soon as there’s no one else between them. 

“You are wearing my jacket.” Carol just smirked happily, admiring how well it fit the redhead. “It looks cute on you, just keep it for me. Will you?”

Something did go wrong, between these two deadly women.

Any one in the galaxy would say it's very hard for Carol to stay in one place for a long time. But she did, she stayed on earth for almost a week, once a month. 

And any one in the Avengers’ HQ would say it’s very hard for Natasha to be disturbed by anything or anyone. Even so, she would not show it on her expression even a tiny bit.

That’s just not her thing.

Like dating someone, or texting someone back. Or admit that she’s caring for the blonde ones, not just her younger sister. 

But they did have sex (well it was amazing), twice. Ugh, maybe three times, if the very first time on Carol’s spaceship counted. 

That’s all, it's a healthy relationship between adults. 

It sounds professional.

“You should stop texting me while we’re at working hours.” Natasha sighed. 

“Wait,” Carol chuckled, her hair color looked darker when it’s wet. “Do we actually have ‘working hours’ in this job? I mean, when is it not ?”

“When we’re not on a mission.”

“But how do I know- ”

“You’re the Captain, Carol.”

“Oh,” Carol finally agreed with a small smile. “That makes sense.”

Every time. Natasha looked at her and thought. Every time she called her name, not Danvers or Captain, just Carol. The smile just came up like that, like nothing else in this world was more delightful than hearing Natasha say her five-letters name.

It’s silly, unprofessional.

But Natasha did that, once in a while.

“So,” Carol tilted her head slightly, and acted that she’s way more harmless than having power to blast spaceships in a single fist. “What’s the plan for dinner?”

“You’re gonna stay that much longer, Captain?” Natasha teased when she finally felt something was in control, by her. Carol’s thoughts were easy to be studied, or at least she gave in for her.

Carol hummed in a way that Natasha could tell she’s triggered, and dragged her leather jacket’s collar to lean in.

“Depends on what you’re offering me to eat, ma’am.”

[zafirosreverie]

Hey can I request a Agatha x reader where reader and Agatha were together before the hex happed. But when Agatha and reader went through the hex wall something went wrong and reader was forced to play the role of Agnes wife. But reader gets terrible headaches that sometimes cause here to pass out. And Agatha is trying to figure out how to save reader. I love your work so much can’t wait for more😍😍🥰🥰.

Sorry it took me so long dear. I hope you like it!

Warnings: hints from nsfw near the end but nothing actually explicit.

a/n: ”f/f” it’s for your favorite flower.

Two wives (Agatha x Fem!reader)

Agatha jumped when she heard the cup breaking in the kitchen. She quickly stood up from the couch and ran to the other room. She gasped when she saw you on the floor, the ceramic pieces around you, one even cut your hand. 

“Y/N” she said and quickly kneeled beside you, pressing a finger on your temple. Her magic touched you and you opened your eyes, coughing. She helped you to sit and made you rest against her body. 

“Agnes” you gasped and she felt her heart breaking. So it was one of those days.

You and Agatha had been together for a long time now (well, at least a long time for you) and she found herself falling in love with you everyday. You were cute, funny, loving and practically perfect. You were the calm to her chaos and she thought that was beautiful. You complimented each other. 

But you were human, and really, really beautiful, which led Agatha to worry a little too much for you. She was always by your side when men got too close to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, making sure they understand you were taken. She would also keep an eye on you when you wandered through the library, the park, or the market, making sure you were always safe. She was pretty protective of you. 

That’s why she felt so bad right now. 

When you two arrived at Westview, she knew something powerful was happening, so she made sure you were protected before crossing the barrier. She put almost every protective spell she knew over you. 

Almost was the key word. She later cursed herself for being so idiot. She should have known that something was wrong the moment she felt the chaos magic. She should have suspected that it had something to do with mental magic. But she didn’t and you paid the price.

Without turning, she changed both of your clothes to match the 50’s, then she turned to you and smiled, but you were zoned out and it scared her. She gently touched your cheek and that seemed to make you come back from your thoughts, but when you talked, she knew something went wrong at some point. Really, really wrong. 

“Oh Agnes, don’t look at me like that sweetheart, I was joking, you know i would never find Dottie attractive” you had joked and she frowned. She hadn't told you her fake name yet. And who the hell was Dottie?

“Let’s go darling, dinner’s getting cold” You said and she blinked when you walked through the streets as if you always lived there.

Later, when Agatha learnt what was happening in Westview, she understood. You weren’t her sweet Y/N anymore. You were F/N, Agnes’ wife. She supposed it could have been worse. You could have ended being someone else’s wife, and she knew she wouldn’t have been able to hold herself if that was the case and would have punched that person on the face, risking the whole plan.

When she followed you to the house your characters were supposed to live in, she immediately used her magic to wake you up. You had been so scared and she was quickly holding you in her arms. You said your head hurted like hell and she took you to the kitchen to make tea for you. 

That was the beginning of the nightmare. 

The next day, you woke up too early and made her breakfast and waited for her to come downstairs, like a good housewife should. It took her a moment to realise you were F/N again. She frowned, a little confused, but used her magic again and you passed out. 

She ran to you and catched you before you could hit the floor, not knowing what was happening. When you woke up, you were Y/N again, and told her the headache was worse than before. Agatha felt so bad but assured you she would make it stop. She took you to the bedroom and let you rest. But you were F/N when you came downstairs later that night. 

That has been Agatha’s reality since then. She never knew when you were going to wake up as Y/N or as F/N. And honestly, she didn’t know which one she prefered right now. She wanted you to be yourself, of course,she missed you so much. But when you were Y/N, you would have that headache that would make you pass out too often. 

And you being F/N made it easier for her to trick Wanda. But it wasn’t you. It was your voice, your body. But it wasn’t her lovely Y/N. (although she had to admit that Agnes had a good taste in women). 

She tried to take you out of the town, deciding that straling Wanda’s powers wasn’t worthy. Not when it was hurting you. But when she tried to cross the barrier with you, you screamed and curled up on the floor. She was so scared and took you to the house again. You were unconscious for two days, scaring the hell out of her. 

In that time, she tried to understand what happened and she came to the conclusion that F/N and her memories were already too deep in your mind. She needed to make Wanda lift the spell and free you.

“Agnes?” Your voice made her jump and dragged her to the present. She didn’t feel you (or, well, F/N) getting up.

“As much as you look beautiful sitting like that on the floor, dear, you’re gonna be late for work” you said and Agatha sighed as she stood up. Forcing a smile, she walked to you and wrapped her arms around you.

“Sorry, love, i just got lost in your spell” she said and you blushed. Well, at least you were still so cute when you blushed. She kissed you gently and you giggled.

“Okay, enough. Get out of here” you said and unwrapped yourself from her arms, turning to clean the cup’s pieces.

Agatha sighed and left the kitchen, straight to the basement. She always spent the time she was supposed to be “working” there, trying to find another way to save you. Why did Wanda’s fake reality decide Agnes was the one bringing money to the house while you were the one staying at home, was ahead of her. But at least Agnes had a lovely wife to greet her at the door after a long day of work.

“Lucky Agnes” Agatha said with sarcasm and rolled her eyes. Lord, she missed you. 

She took her book and started reading. She already read it, three times actually, and deep inside she knew there wasn’t anything there to help you. But, what if there was? What if she missed something important? She already made so many mistakes that trapped you there, she wouldn’t risk this.

She read for hours, her hopes slowly fading. Why did she have to bring you here?! Why did she put you in danger?

“Aggie?” your voice came upstairs and she sighed. She guessed it was time for Agnes to come ho-

Wait.

You didn’t call for Agnes. You called for-

“Agatha Harkness, bring your ass here or I’m gonna take full custody of our son!” you yelled.

The witch threw her book aside and quickly ran upstairs. Once again, she didn’t know what was happening, but she knew that an angry Y/N was even more dangerous and hot than even the scarlet witch herself.

She found you in the living room, with señor scratchy in your arms. You seemed fine.

“Y/N?” She asked as she carefully approached you. You turned and she stopped when she saw the anger on your eyes. 

Someone was in big troubles. Probably her.

“I want her head” you growled and she blinked.

“I- what?”

“Wanda Maximoff! I want that little witch’s head” you said and left the bunny on the couch, walking to her.

She sighed in relief internally. At least you were not angry with her. And lord, you were so damn hot with that fire in your eyes. She couldn't help but roaming her eyes down your body with lust. 

“Eyes up Harkness!” you said and she jumped, looking at your face again. You smirked. 

“How are you awake?” she asked, a little confused. Did you pass out and awake being Y/N? that thought made her feel guilty for not being there to take care of you.

“You see, at least one of my wives is romantic” you joked and she frowned. You chuckled and pointed to the f/f she got for you this morning. They were the same she gave you on your first date.

In the whole time you’ve been there, she never gave you flowers, or did anything romantic with you (well, not her usual romantic, just the fake dates Agnes and F/N went to). She didn’t see the point if she never knew who you were. 

But this morning, a part of herself told her to give them to you. She didn’t question it, she just did. Then the incident with the cup happened and she forgot about them.

Now she knew what you were talking about. That part of herself that told her to bring the flowers. At least one of my wives is romantic. Agnes gave them to you.

“How sweet of her, right?” you said and she looked at you. You smiled, taking a step closer to her and wrapping your arms around her neck “I think she found a way to free me” you whispered.

“How?” Agatha asked eagerly, wrapping her arms on your waist. 

“Y/N has to replace F/N’s memories” you said “And my best memories are with you”

She felt her heart jumping at the last sentence and smiled. She caressed your cheek and you smiled before you kissed her deeply. Her hands wandered over your body, happy that there was a hope to finally have you completely back. You smirked when you broke the kiss and locked eyes with her.

“When I’m totally me again, I want Wanda’s head” you said “Nobody, and I mean nobody, takes me away from my wife like this” you growled and Agatha was once again lost in the fire of your eyes. 

“You’ll have it, love” she promised, letting her hands wander over your body again and you smirked.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” you asked “We have to re do all my memories. The dates and all”

“I think we can skip to our wedding night” she winked and kissed your neck. You laughed and took her head, making her lock eyes with you again.

“I was actually thinking about our third date” you said and she moaned. That third date was amazing. The first time she made you hers. “I still have the ropes” you whispered and she groaned, taking you in her arms and carrying you to the bedroom.

Remember when she said you were cute, funny, loving and practically perfect? Well, you were also naughty, sexy, hot and with an evil vein a kilometer long.

She was sure at least one of you wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow (with all that fire in you, it would be most probably her), but who was she to fight the devil?

[bittenwritten]

Idle Gossip

[Harley Quinn 2019] Scarecrow x [Villain] reader

*reader is gender neutral* [Reposted from my Wattpad account]

It all started with your invitation to the Penguin’s nephew’s Bar Mitzvah coming through the mail slot. Normally, you’d prefer to keep to yourself and not attend any social gatherings. However, on this occasion you’d had a rough week and a fancy get-together seemed to be just what the doctor ordered, and so you decided to bite the bullet and attend. Unfortunately, what you seemed to completely forget, until the day of the Bar Mitzvah, is that you'd actually have to talk to people. Great.

You decided that cancelling now would just be more hassle than it was worth, and so that is how you ended up sitting round a small table with a few of your fellow Legion of Doom members discussing the recent drama that was the JoQuinn break-up. Other than the Joker blowing up the host of Good Morning Gotham, this was the first time you were hearing about the whole drama, so it was all news to you. Well, I say ‘conversation’, it was more so just Scarecrow gossiping at the group about the whole hullabaloo while everyone else was becoming tired of the non-stop gossip coming out of Jonathan’s mouth. Well, everyone but you. You couldn’t for the life of you explain, but you just seemed to hang onto every single word that came out of his mouth as he rambled on.

 You weren't even really listening to what was being said anymore, you were just so transfixed by the way he spoke, there was some kind of devilish charm to it that made you feel weak in the knees.

 You’d only recently realized your feelings for the twig of a man on a collaborative heist, where you had to suddenly drag him out of Batman's sight and ended up pinning him up against the wall. Neither of you even said anything, you just stared at each other for an uncomfortably long time until Batman walked in and caught the two of you like that. It had to be the most embarrassing point in your career, but there was something about that flustered look on his face that made your heart skip a beat.

Back in the present, Twoface looked like he was about to lose his patience before the door to the atrium swung open. Two figures stood in the doorway, the more extravagant of the two had a massive tiger on a lead in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. You didn’t even recognise her for a split-second but her pale-white skin was an immediate give away to her identity, it was the Joker’s ex, Harley Quinn. Behind her stood the more intimidating figure of Poison Ivy, she seemed to be more disinterested with the whole thing. Harley took a swing from the bottle and threw it over her shoulder, only to stop dead in her tracks as she looked around in horror, you could only assume she mis-read her invite in regards to what type of party this was. Glancing over to your fellow villains, they seemed to be just as confused as you were.

“Well, this is an interesting development” Scarecrow commented, resting his head in his hand as he leaned forward. “You know...” he started “i bet there’s something going on between those two” he used his free-hand to gesture towards the two.

“Y’know what, I’m starving.” TwoFace quickly stood up “Bane, buddy, how's about you and I go check out the buffet?” 

“Sure, sounds good.” Bane said in his usual upbeat tone.

“Yeah, good idea.” Scarecrow added as he began to stand out of his seat.

“Nah, nah, nah.” TowFace cut him off. “Y’know two’s company but three's a crowd-” he clearly just wanted an excuse to get away from the non-stop gossip that was giving him a head-ache.

“You two just stay put, we’ll be back in a sec” and with that he bee-lined towards the buffet table with Bane following closely behind. Scarecrow slowly sat back down and stared in confusion at the two before turning his attention to you.

“Wonder what got into them” he laughed awkwardly.

“Yeah, I wonder.” you agreed and took a quick sip from your drink.

His expression turned to a more deadpan one. “Well I mean you could at least try to be a bit more subtle with it.” he scoffed.

“Sweetheart, if I was to be subtle about anything, you wouldn’t pick up on a single thing I was implying” you shot back, leaning towards him and taking another swig from your drink.

“Oh, like your obvious attraction to me.” he joked and raised an eyebrow as you spat out your drink in surprise.

“S’cuse me?!” you managed to sputter out once you recovered from your coughing fit.

“Oh give me a break.” he rolled his eyes. “I know I can be a bit oblivious at times but not to this extent.” he said as a smirk formed at the edges of his mouth.

“What are you talking about?” you laughed nervously, trying to relieve some of the sudden tension that had been created. He looked at you like you’d just asked him who Batman was before answering. 

“I mean, you avoiding me recently, your longing stares.” he put a hand on his head in overly dramatic fashion, which admittedly got a slight laugh from you.

“I mean for fucks sake, just now you were making eyes at me throughout the conversation about the break-up.” he added. Your body stiffens and heats up as he finishes his sentence. God, were you that obvious? 

At this point, your face was as red as a tomato and you were stumbling over your words as you failed to come up with a rebuttal. Luckily you were saved from this hell when Bane and TwoFace returned to the table, stopping him from continuing his accusation. You sighed in relief and looked back over to him, he still had that smug smirk on his face that always made your heart flutter. 

“How's the food over there?” you asked.

“Eh, nothing worth spoiling your dinner for.” TwoFace shrugged, sitting back into his seat.

“Uh-oh, who are these trouble-makers?” Harley walked up to the table.

“Nah, I'm just kidding- I know it’s you [name], Scarecrow, TwoFace, other side of TwoFace, Bane-!” you all laughed at her imitation. “I'm gonna’ blow up this Bar Mitzvah” Bane grumbled.

“Quinn, Great ta’ see ya’! Where've ya’ been hiding?” TwoFace asked.

“On your left side where you can’t see shit!”

You all burst into laughter again but this time you couldn’t help but steal another look at Scarecrow. You loved the way he looked when he laughed, from the way his eyes lit up to his dorky smile, you just couldn't get enough of it but you quickly looked away before he could catch your staring.

“So guess who came up with a plan to kill Batman, uh, ya girl-” but before she could continue a looming shape appeared behind her.

“Look who’s trying to run before she can walk”. Well, as if your night couldn’t get any worse, the Joker was here to completely derail it. Great.

The others laughed and you plastered on a fake smile.

“Mazel Tov!” Bane greeted him.

“Jesus”

“Glad you're here, J-man. Pull up a chair, doesn’t bother me-” Harley pulled out the menu.

“So who’s going beef and who’s going chicken?”

“You are going somewhere else-” Joker demanded.

“-because this is the Legion of Doom table! Why don’t you find the crazy bitch table?”

“Spoiler: it’s not a real table” Bane chipped in.

“That was implied-”

“Oh” Bane frowned.

“Who wants to ditch this jester and tear up Gotham with me?!” Harley yelled, which was only met with manic laughter from the Joker.

“Laugh, laugh with me” Joker ordered. You did your best to sound genuine as you forced a laugh, like the others, but you weren't too sure how convincing you sounded.

“Uhh, you know what, who needs ya’ this table is too far away from the dancefloor anyway!” Harley stomped off.

Joker pulled up a seat and sat down.

“Sorry about that folks, women am i right?” None of you really felt comfortable with that last comment.

“Joker, nice to see ya’, didn’t think you’d make it” TwoFace said, greeting him.

“Well, of course, how could i miss such a big event” he grinned, to you it seemed a bit disingenuous but you let it slide.

“Now, what did I miss?”

“Scarecrow was just telling us how Harley dumped ya’.” TwoFace explained.

“Oh really?”

The smug grin on the Joker’s face dropped as he shot a glare at Scarecrow, who was currently sweating bullets.

“Oh I'm sure you're definitely in a position to talk, Crane, seeing as your single ass can’t even get a date, let alone dump one. And for the record, I dumped her.” you could feel the condescending nature of his tone as he spoke. Jonathan looked down at his drink as Joker continued to talk down to him.

You desperately wanted to say something but were snapped out of your thoughts by a loud voice screaming “assholes-”, you all quickly turned to see where the voice came from, only to find it was Harley bitching about you all to Ivy. Joker shot her a smug grin before turning back to the group. He opened his mouth to speak again only to be cut off.

“But they don’t know shit-” Harley screamed again, shaking their table as she slammed her fists onto it. Luckily, this seemed to distract Joker from his rant long enough for him to forget.

“Now, where was I?” 

Thinking quickly you came up with an answer.

“You were talking about dumping Harley.”

“Ah, yes. Can you believe that, the bitch even blew up my hideout out of spite-” he started going on and on about how he was totally the one who ended it. You looked over to Scarecrow as he sighed a breath of relief and mouthed ‘thank you’. You smiled and nodded at him before facing back to the pasty-white madman in front of you. 

By the time Joker had finished his rant, the food had arrived. It was pretty good, but you and Scarecrow were both too busy stealing looks at each other while the other wasn’t looking to enjoy it. 

“Uuh, my chicken’s rubbery.” Joker grumbled.

 “Ooh, your beef looks good” he said as he slid Bane’s plate over to himself.

“Uh, fine” Bane sighed as he reached for the plate of chicken, wanting at least something to eat.

“Ah-“  Joker swatted his hand away. 

“I might finish that.”

“Well, then, what are we doing?-” Bane protested, but was cut off by a voice over the speakers.

“Hey, everybody, let’s give it up for Joshua’s Bar Mitzvah. Huh?” Penguin stood on stage next to his nephew, Joshua.

“It was very special, for me it was when I realized it was my dream to become a crime lord” he wiped a tear from his eye before continuing. 

“So today, I force that dream onto you.” The crowd cheered as he placed a top-hat, that was identical to his, onto Joshua’s head.

You look out of the corner of your eye and catch Scarecrow staring directly at you. Though he was wearing his mask, you could tell he was blushing by the way his eyes darted away from you as he straightened himself the moment your eyes met, only daring to look back at you to see if you were still staring back at him. You flashed him a cheeky grin as you playfully winked at him, you could swear that you saw his heart completely stop beating inside his chest as you did. 

“Okay, Joshua, get ready for your first caper! Good luck fighting off the guards, also known as Gotham Chuckle Hut’s finest improvisers, and stealing that cash-ola, otherwise known as ‘Joshua Bucks’!” The curtains began to open.

“Go Joshua- Oh my God-”

The curtains opened fully to reveal what seemed to be a massacre. The improv troupe lay in pools of their own blood, you could even see the bone fully stick out of one man’s leg for crying out loud! The culprit stood in the doorway of the vault, after somehow getting it open, and was holding some of the ‘Joshua Bucks’. Judging by your table’s reaction, you could tell who it was. Your suspicions were confirmed when the perp spoke up.

“Hey, Joshy, Mazel Tov!” Yeah, it was Harley. You could get a better view of her as she walked closer and picked up one of the men so it looked like he was standing.

There was an audible gasp from the crowd as she dropped him again, further exposing his bones. In contrast, Joker started laughing maniacally and nugded Bane.

“This is fantastic! You’re probably not laughing because this is sort of how you screw up.”

“You ruined the Bar Mitzvah!” Penguin stated as he walked forward as the crowd booed.

“-and crippled an improv troupe!”

“Meh- oh well”

Bane, TwoFace and Bane quickly stood up, but you and Scarecrow were only now snapping fully back into reality.

“If you two could quit your eye-fucking session and hurry up, it would be greatly appreciated-” Joker snapped at you both as he and the others made their way to the vault room, before you could say anything to defend yourselves. You both looked at each other for a split-second but you quickly pushed down your feelings of embarrassment and speeded after them with Jonathan hot on your heels.

“-and that's our show, folks!” Harley announced and took a bow before darting towards the exit.

“I've got this.” Penguin said, cocking his umbrella gun and taking aim.

There was a loud ‘thud’ as Harley fell to the floor as the tranquilizer dart took effect. You all gathered round to see what was happening.

“Say ‘goodnight, Puddin’.” Joker spoke with a smug grin on his face.

“You think… this is gonna’... stop...me?” her words became more slurred as she slipped into unconsciousness. Joker only laughed at ths threat.

“Hah- She even sounds like you!” he laughed as he turned to Bane.

“Oh- I don't think… Do I sound like… You never hear your own voice I guess.” Bane sputtered out, as two of Penguin’s henchmen picked up Harley’s limp body. You all walked out of the vault room and joined the crowd as the music started playing again.

“I’m assuming this is all you’ll be gossiping about for the next year.” you spoke in a hushed tone as you nudged Scarecrow’s arm. He simply rolled his eyes at you, but did nothing to cover up the dorky grin on his face as he did so. 

“Perhaps.” he said, pausing before he continued.

“When I do, would you like me to leave in the part where I repeatedly caught you staring affectionately at me or no?”

“Oh really, ‘cause I could've sworn that I caught you only a couple of minutes ago doing the exact same thing.” you scoffed, leaning towards him.

 You see a hint of momentary panic in his eyes as he tries to conjure up an excuse and push down the feeling of… warmth?- he got in his stomach as he remembered the part where you winked at him, he couldn’t explain it but it felt familiar. Then it hit him like a brick, he knew exactly where he’d felt this before. He’d felt the same weird, warm, fuzzy, confusing feeling when you had him pinned against that old factory wall and were staring into his eyes. He’d rather die than admit it, but you looming above him, the way your chest rose and fell as you panted, the fact that your mouths were so close that if he so much as tilted his head upward your lips would be touching, might have just awoken something in him.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and saw you still waiting for his answer.

“Guilty as charged.” he shrugged and laughed nervously.

Before you could continue, you both noticed four men carrying Harley, who was tied to a chair and just regaining consciousness now.

“Cut the song- No Horah for Harley” Penguin ordered as the men placed the chair down a couple of feet away from him.

“Hey, it's gonna’ take more than a souped-up parasol to keep me from kicking your ass you fat, flightless bird.” Harley snapped.

“The mouth on her!” Penguin turned to Joshua.

“What better way to become a man than by-”

“-Ohh! Than by touching your umbrella? Whoo!” Joshua snatched the umbrella from his hands. 

“Yes! I’ve been waiting for this!” he stated as he pointed it towards Harley

“Any last words before I kill your dumb, blonde, stupid, smelly-”

“-That’s too many adjectives,” Scarecrow whispered. You nodded in agreement.

“-Idiot ass!” Joshua finished.

“Hey, Joshua, make sure you aim it directly at my head ‘cause you don’t want to miss in front of your friends and family-”

“I won’t miss” Joshua stated as his hand began to shake.

“I don’t know.. That trembly finger’s telling a different story-” she taunted.

“I-it’s not trembly, it’s just- I’ve never shot an umbrella before-”

“I bet there’s a lot of things you’ve never done, like: drunk a beer-”

“-I drunk a beer, like all the time. I always drunk beers” his voice became as shaky as his hand as he looked around the room.

“I bet you still believe in Santy Clause.”

“I-i don’t! I’m Jewish and tonight I’m a man!”

“Oh, that’s right, i forgot that I’m talkin’ to a newly grown man- I mean you’ve already finger-banged somebody.” There was a loud gasp from the audience. Well, this got uncomfortable real quick.

“Wait, what?!”

“I mean you have, haven’t you, you didn’t lie about such an important milestone, right?”

“Y-yeah it happened!”

“Are you sure?” Joshua’s body was fully trembling at this point as he looked over to his uncle, who glared back at him, waiting for him to take the shot.

“I-I don’t… I don’t know… it was dark” he stammered .

“It was at camp, at night… it was me and her and it was dark. I definitely did something” 

“Oh, Joshy, do you really think you're ready to kill someone if you’ve never even finger-blasted a girl?”

“You’re right- I’m not ready” he started to sob as he ran into his mother's arms.

“I told you we should’ve gotten him the dollhouse like he asked, Oswald-” she hissed

“It’s not a dollhouse! It’s an army base with sound  effects of real screams, and it’s the only thing I wanted!” his voice broke half way through his sentence.

“Your dead, Quinn” Penguin spat as he aimed his umbrella at her, but then the sound of glass breaking filled the room and a man fell face-first from the ceiling, followed by Poison Ivy lowering herself down from the newly made hole with a vine. Harley greeted her before doing a front flip onto her back which broke the chair, and something else , you assumed by the way she reacted.

“Uuh, i thought that was gonna be way cooler-” she hissed as the Joker walked up to her.

“Harley, you're not a solo-act, you're a sidekick, an afterthought. No one is ever going to take you seriously. Admit you’re nothing without me and you walk away alive. Or you can die!”

“Welp, easy choice.” the weird green man got up from the floor.

“uh , lovely Bar Mitzvah. Mazel, mazel.” he began to walk away.

“Are you leaving?” Ivy asked him.

“Uh, no-”

“I ain’t admitting shit!” Harley hissed as she picked herself up. Joker only sighed.

“Boys?” he called on the four of you, you all grinned and raced to grab your weapons from the table.

“I’ve got TwoFace.” Harley stated.

“I’ve got [name] and Scarecrow.” Ivy confirmed.

“I have-oh wow- oh God- wow.” Kite-Man stared up to see Bane towering over him, who got even bigger when he started pumping venom into himself.

“You- you’re looming! Um, alright, I’ll take, um… if you don’t mind if you could scootch just a little.” he asked, looking past Bane.

“Boom, onsite coordinator. Looking kind of brittle there, won’t see it-” Bane swatted him to the other side of the room before he could finish.

TwoFace opened fire on the two, but Ivy used her vines as a shield for herself and Harley. Within seconds, Harley was flung over the top of the shield and landed behind you and Scarecrow. You both turn around just in time to dodge the first few swings of her bat but as Scarecrow stepped back Harley kicked his gun right out of his hand and yelled for Ivy to pass her TwoFace’s gun. You spun round to see if Jonathan was alright, only to be met with a bat to the back of the head as Harley snuck up behind you, which caused you to fall forwards. You braced yourself for the feeling of your head hitting the hard tiles but were caught on your way down. You looked up to see Scarecrow grabbing you by the arm, you pushed against him and were able to get back on your feet and tossed him his gun. You glanced behind him to see Harley aiming TwoFace’s gun at his back but fired before you could get out a warning. As the bullets punctured the canisters on his back, the force of the fear toxin rushing out sent him flying. You covered your mouth and ran away to avoid the fear toxin that was already causing people to hallucinate, grabbing your gun as you did. Thankfully, Scarecrow landed a couple of feet from where you were and you rushed over to him. You offered him your hand and quickly pulled him up.

Behind you, Harley continued firing from the stolen gun before Penguin was able to shoot it, causing it to explode in Harley’s hand. As she stepped back in shock, she bumped into TwoFace who pulled out two dual handguns. She began to back away to Ivy as you, Scarecrow and Penguin walked up to join TwoFace, weapons drawn.

“Let’s get out of here!” Ivy yelled. Harley looked behind you all only to see Joker filming the whole thing.

“No, let’s fight! Maybe Kite-Man can help!” They glanced over to where Kite-Man was and witnessed as Bane repeatedly punched him in the head while he had him in a choke-hold.

“Bane, quit dicking around with Kite-Man and get those two.”  Joker snapped.

“But he was attacking me-”

“With what, a kite? Just do as I tell you, you dumb, freakish monster!”

“Bane, why are you letting him talk to you like that?” Harley asked.

“In fact, why do any of you let him talk to you like that?” she began to raise her voice as she looked at the four of you. You all lowered your weapons and looked over to where Joker stood.

“He doesn't even have powers-”  you felt your body stiffen as you shifted your gaze down to the floor. 

“His only power is bullying you into doing what he wants. I should know, he did it to me for years.”

“Don’t listen to her! She’s nothing.” Joker protested.

“She makes a good point, I don’t like how you called me a monster” Bane interrupted him.

“Yeah that was pretty harsh” Scarecrow chipped in and looked to you as you nodded in agreement.

“Oh my God, it’s just an expression-” Joker tried to explain it away before Bane interrupted him.

“Also, let’s talk about dinner-” Bane crossed his arms. “I selected the beef well in advance and you stole it from me, you said you didn’t even want to come to this ‘stupid thing’.”

The crowd gasped.

“My thoughts exactly, this is a monumental night for young Joshua.”

“I’m the Joker, I was joking, okay? Oh my God, I’ll kill her myself.” he said, pulling out his gun and pointing it to Harley’s head, only for Ivy to stand in his way.

“Ivy, if you could just, y’know, just move so I, I can just kill your friend.”

“Absolutely- over my dead body.”

“Uhh- female friendships!” he groaned as he got ready to shoot, but Ivy’s vines suddenly sprouted up behind him and surrounded the three. 

The sudden action caused you to step back and instinctively grab onto Scarecrow’s shoulder, which caused him to freeze momentarily before melting into your touch.

Joker aimed his gun at Ivy’s head but she didn’t move a muscle as her vines closed in on him. High-pitch laughter came from his pocket as his phone rang. He began yelling into the phone about some sort of building issue with his base and ran off, but you weren't really paying attention. You looked down at where your hand was, only to notice a large red stain on his upper-arm, it took you mere seconds to realize that it was blood, his blood even. You assumed he must have knocked into something sharp when he was sent flying a couple of minutes ago. You must have looked fairly shocked, as Jonathan followed your gaze down to the wound and tried to brush your hand away.

“I-I’m fine. -really-” he started, but you only grabbed his arm and noticed a multitude of smaller blood stains all over his right side.

“Jesus, Jon, what did you land on, a pile of cutlery?” you asked, more concerned than anything else.

“Well it might as well have been.” he grumbled, quickly glancing over to the, now, broken table he had landed on.

“Right, well, let’s get you patched up.” you said, lightly tugging on his arm.

“Oh, there’s no need, honestly-” He protested before you cut him off.

“-Jonathan, there is a massive gash on your arm. Now come on, I have a first aid kit at my place.” you began leading him to the main exit.

“A-at your place?” he froze in his tracks.

“Yeah? What’s with the shocked face?” you looked back at him.

“You know I don’t bite, right?” you grinned at him. You said your goodbyes and thanked Mrs. Cobblepot for your invitation before dragging him off despite his insistence that he could just ignore it until the party was over and sort it himself.

“Look, you’ve made it clear that you don’t like it when I help but-”

“That’s not what I meant-”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I… I just didn't want to trouble you, that’s all!” That answer came a little too fast for you to fully believe it but you thought it would be best to drop the subject as it clearly flustered him.

As the two of you walked out into the warm summer night you loosened your grip on his upper-arm and let your hand glide down his arm and wrap around his wrist, not daring to go the full mile and hold his hand, though you could swear you saw a hint of disappointment in his eyes as you did. As the two of you stepped into the parking lot and found your car, Scarecrow cleared his throat.

“[Name]?” he glanced over at you as he got into the passenger's side seat.

“Yeah? What is it?”

“It’s okay if I stay the night, innit’? It’s just that my hideout is on the other side of the city and it’s already really late-”

“Well as long as you don’t mind sleeping on the couch, then sure.” you said as you pulled out of the parking space and onto the main road.

“Cheers, luv.” 

 What followed after that was near miss with an oncoming truck and your face becoming a bright red colour as your brain temporarily short-circuited. You looked over to make sure Jonathan was alright, only to see him gripping onto the seat like his life depended on it. 

“Jesus- if you don’t like me calling you that then you can just say so- Bloody hell!” 

“It’s not that, it’s just-” Your brain was working at 100 mph trying to talk your way out of this because: God- did you love the way he called you that. Unfortunately for you, he quickly caught on and was going to give you hell.

“Oh so you like me calling you ‘luv’, then?” The corners of his mouth curled up into a smirk as he noticed the massive blush on your face. 

“Wh- no- that’s not what I meant!”

“Sure thing, luv.” His smirk had turned into an ear-to-ear grin as he saw your face turn an even darker shade of red. This just elicited a loud, frustrated groan from you.

“I swear to God- do you want me to crash this car!” you snapped at him, smacking your hand off the steering wheel, which was only met with laughter as you yelled a string of expletives.

“You wouldn’t do that.” he stated, still giggling to himself.

“What makes you so sure of that?” You scoffed but you couldn’t deny the way your heart sped up when you saw the dorkiest grin on his face.

“You care about me.” He teased, resting his head on the back of his hands.

“Shut up.” You lightly punch his shoulder.

 You tried to cover up the growing smile on your face with your free hand but failed as Jonathan noticed and pulled your hand down from your face, unintentionally encasing your hand in his. It took you both a while to realize it but once you did his hands immediately shot back to his sides and didn’t look at you for the rest of the car journey instead opting to twiddling his thumbs.

“We’re here.” you called, snapping him out of his daze.

You stepped out of your car and into the apartment block. Seeing as you were both still in costume, you darted for the elevator and hit the button. As the elevator began its ascension you  took this opportunity to take a breather, knowing you would have to leg it to your apartment at the very end of the hallway lest someone see you and call the police. You sighed and leaned against the railing while looking at your reflection in the mirror but you couldn’t help noticing the way Scarecrow straightened the noose around his neck as if it was a tie. For fucks sake, if this keeps up you might just lose it. He met your gaze in the mirror and grinned at you.

“I mean, if you want to watch you can just look at me, it’s less creepy.” he chuckled but suddenly stopped as he winced in pain and grabbed his arm. You straightened yourself and rushed to his side. Luckily, you’d reached your floor and as the doors opened you grabbed Jonathan by the wrist and led to your apartment. You quickly looked around before inserting your key into the door, as you fumbled with the key, Jonathan remained eerily quiet compared to his usual gossipy self. You finally got the door to open and the two of you walked into the empty apartment. You felt about for the lightswitch and eventually found it.

“You go sit down, I’m just going to get the first aid from the bathroom.” you gesture towards the couch and walk off. You rummaged around for a bit, eventually finding it at the very back of the cupboard, you checked it’s contents to make sure you had the right stuff. You made your way into the living room and found Jonathan holding a book you’d left out on the coffee table earlier. He looked up at you and then the first aid kit in your hands.

“Right.” you started, taking out a few bandages. “Show me your arm.” After a few minutes of struggling he managed to roll up his sleeve and outstretched it to you. You gently took his hand and sat down next to him. You, deciding that it was probably best to treat the biggest cut first, took out an antiseptic wipe and lightly dabbed the wound Jonathan winced at this but a soft smile from you seemed to help.

“[name]?” He took a deep breath.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for looking out for me. I know I can be… difficult at times -but I really appreciate you dragging me here instead of leaving me to bleed out at the party.” he laughed nervously and averted his gaze from you.

“You're probably one of the closest friends I’ve ever had.” his voice cracked slightly.

You slightly cringed at the word ‘friends’, well, I suppose you better get comfy in the friend-zone. He swallowed and returned his arm to his side before continuing.

“A-and I’d like to be more than that-” he sputtered, beginning to fiddle with the ends of his noose. 

“You… would?” you looked up at him, your heart feeling like it would burst out of your chest if it beated any faster than it already was.

“Yes.” he grabbed your hands and put them between his.

“I like you- a lot! I like your eyes, your face, the way you always know how to make me laugh” he snapped out of his daze.

“-But, I mean if you don’t feel the same way I completely understand, actually on second thought this was a horrible idea and you probably don’t so I’ll just leave and save you the trouble of kicking me out, like you should-” you could hardly keep up with the word vomit coming out of his mouth as he shot out of his seat.

“I’m sorry, I’ve probably wasted your time ‘cause you probably only see me as a friend and I’ve most likely just ruined our friendship so I’ll just leave and I swear you’ll never have to see me again so-” he made a break for the door but you quickly yanked on his wrist which almost caused him to fall backwards.

 He caught himself just in time but was beginning to wish he’d just fallen to the floor instead as he realized he was using you to support himself and had wrapped his arms around your neck. He tried to push himself away, only for you to snake your arms behind his waist and trap him there. You could practically feel the warm air of his breath on you skin as he panted, you could feel yourself melting into his arms and did not stop him as he squeezed you tight. After a few moments, you managed to sit him back onto the couch.

“I want to be more than friends too.” you spoke softly, not missing the ear-to-ear grin on Jonathan’s face.

You leaned onto him, your head resting on his shoulder, he froze up for a split-second before wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

“So, how far off was I?”

“Hmm?” you looked up at him.

“Remember earlier? When I said I saw you giving me looks?”

You gave an exasperated sigh and smirked.

“Was it Bane or TwoFace who had to point it out to you?”

“Both.” he answered with a slight laugh.

“But you’re not denying it!” 

“Why would I, you were doing the exact same thing?” you scoffed, giving him a light punch on the arm.

“Oww- okay, okay, fair point.” he laughed as he pulled you back close to him, brushing a strand of hair out of your eyes and behind your ear.

“Y’know, if you were anyone else I would’ve killed you” you only half-joked, tracing shapes with your fingers onto his chest.

“I know” he laughed, placing a hand under your chin and lightly lifting it so you two were making eye-contact.

“-And that's what I lo-” he cut himself off. “I mean, like about you” he smiled sheepishly.

You only smiled before cupping his face and pulling him closer.

“I love you too, you fucking dork” you chuckled before leaning in and kissing him.

He practically jumped out his skin when you did, but as the realization sunk in he wrapped both arms around you and kissed back, eyes fluttering shut. His lips pressed softly against yours, as one of his hands travelled up your back and cupped the back of your head. The kiss itself was very soft and didn’t last too long, maybe only a couple of seconds, but to you it felt like an eternity. Your lips finally parted when you both were in desperate need for air, but that dazed look on his face made you want to do it all over again.

“You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that.” you smiled up at him.

“Same here” he added, before quickly pulling you back in for another kiss.

[topsytervy]

Late Night Walks ~ Drew Starkey

Synopsis: There's always a cute guy out on the balcony when you go out to walk your dog and he does it to make sure you get home okay

Word Count: 1,415

Warnings: little bit of smoking cigarettes, swearing (I think there's only one cuss word though), a creepy guy, spelling/grammar mistakes, i think thats it.

*y/d/n = your dogs name*

A/N: hi, im back. I've been working like 30 hours a week and have had zero time to write and when I do, I freeze up and overthink. So this is like half-written on my lunch break. Anyway, hope you like it.

~~~~~~~~

It’s not like Drew was intentionally watching you. It just so happened that every time he went out on his balcony to read or just decompress, you were walking your dog. However, you only really walked your dog at night and that made him slightly anxious.

So maybe he was intentionally watching you just to make sure you left and got back to the apartment complex safely.

You, on the other hand, weren’t necessarily concerned. You had a decent-sized dog named y/d/n who was ready to protect you whenever you gave it the command and you’ve been walking the same route for a year and a half and everyone on that route recognized you and was sure to come out if you yelled for help.

And then he was outside your complex one day when you took your dog out.

You didn’t know who the man was but he knew who you were. He was older than you, not by a couple of months or years but by a good two decades and he gave off a weird vibe.

“Yeah. You’re always walking this little cutie.” He gestured to your dog.

You thanked him on your dog’s behalf and waited a beat to see if he would move on but he didn’t, continuing to say how liked this color on you more than the one you wore a week ago and how he was concerned when he didn’t see you for the past few days but remembered seeing you walk into this complex once while he was driving past.

You explained how you were just sick and you looked up, hoping that the dude who was always outside when you were was there. And sure enough, he was leaning against his balcony railing, smoking a cigarette.

Drew's eyes met yours and he noticed the somewhat scared look on your face, causing him to put out his cigarette and walk inside.

The blue-eyed man walked out the front door of the building as the man reached out and went to touch your arm, causing you to back up.

“Ah, come on. We’re not strangers. We could do dinner at mine or yours.”

You opened your mouth to speak but Drew answered before you could. “I don’t think she’s interested sir. Why don’t you move along?”

You looked over your shoulder to see Drew walking up and stopping next to you, his eyes settled on the man.

“I’m sorry. Do I know you?” The man asked.

“No.”

“Then why are you here?”

Drew pointed up towards his balcony. “Cause from where I was standing up there, she,” he moved his finger to point at you, “was looking uncomfortable and I,” he moved his finger to point at himself now, “decided to come down and check.”

“Well, we’re fine so you can go back to whatever you were doing.” The man narrowed his eyes at Drew.

Drew turned to look at you. “Are you okay?”

“She’s f-”

“I didn’t ask you, sir.” Drew cut him off sharply with his words and a glare before looking back at you, softening his gaze. “Are you okay? Do you want me to leave?” You shook your head and Drew turned back to the older guy. “You need to leave before I decide to call the cops.”

The man stayed for a few seconds before Drew reached into his pocket, causing the guy to hold up his hands and back up. “I’m leaving. I’m leaving.”

Drew watched the man hop in his car and pull away before he turned to you, your hands shaking as y/d/n looked at you with concern.

“Hey, okay. You’re okay. Let’s just sit down for a minute.” He gently lead you to the steps, sitting you down as your dog licked your hands.

“I-I don’t think I can walk that route again. He sees me walk that route all the time. He lives somewhere along that route.” You panicked, your hands going to your temples before your eyes widened and you looked at Drew. “Oh my god. He knows the building I live in. What happens if he decides to come in and try to figure out what apartment I’m in.”

Drew held up his hands. “Whoa, slow down. I promise that there is no way that man is getting in here or coming near here again. I’ll sit out there the entire damn night if I have to.” Drew pointed up to his balcony once again. “And, if you want, I could...join you on your walks.” He dragged out the last sentence, thinking how weird that is to offer someone he hasn’t talked to before tonight.

You looked at the blue-eyed man. “Are you sure?”

Drew shrugged. “Why not? It’ll be refreshing.”

You nodded before offering him your now slightly shaking hand. “I’m Y/n.”

He smiled before taking your hand in his. “Drew. It’s lovely to meet you.”

And that’s how it started.

That first night he joined you and your dog on a walk, you got to know each other. What you two did for a living, how old you two were, where you grew up, etc.

It was a nice change of pace for you to have someone to talk with as you walked and it was a nice change of pace for Drew to be doing something instead of just sitting on his balcony and wait for you to get home.

He walked you back to your apartment and wished you goodnight before heading back to his two floors up.

From that night on, you two went on your walks at 7:30 because, to you, it felt more relaxing and got you and y/d/n tired out for bed.

It was maybe three months in when you laughed at the memory of seeing Drew just sitting on the balcony when you left and came home.

"What's so funny?" He asked, taking the cigarette out of his mouth as he grinned at you.

"I'm not going to lie, I thought you were kind of a weirdo beforehand." You admitted, blushing slightly.

"Oh? Do tell." He raised an eyebrow.

"Well. Imagine being me, a young girl, walking her dog at night and constantly seeing someone from her building waiting on their balcony each and every night and watching her leave and come back."

Drew nodded as he took a quick drag from his cigarette before exhaling. "I agree but I will have you know the first couple of times that happened was by accident and then it just became a habit. I wasn’t doing it to be a weirdo. I was doing it because a part of me kicked in that just told me to make sure you get home. I've got sisters and I couldn't even imagine what I'd do if something happened to them." He glanced at you and shrugged before smiling. "There are only two people who can pick on my sisters and that’s me and my brother, ya know. Like, yeah, I'll tease them about someone they like or take the last slice of pizza cause they wanted it but I'm not going to let someone be a creep to them."

You laughed, resting your head against Drew’s arm. "A true gentleman."

"I try." He grinned as the two of you rounded the block.

"Seriously though, I always enjoyed these walks and I find even more joy in them walking with someone else."

Drew threw his arm around your shoulder. "I enjoy them too. My favorite part of the day is hanging out with you two."

"Too bad it's nighttime." You smirked.

"Okay, smartass." He rolled his eyes as you approached the front of the complex.

He grabbed the door and held it open for you, you and y/d/n walking in as you thanked him before he walked in behind you guys. He walked you back to your apartment and watched as you pulled your keys from your pocket, putting them into the lock and turning them before you turned to face Drew.

"Do you want to come in? Have a beer and some leftover stirfry while we watch a movie? If you can cause you've got an early morning tomorrow that's totally okay, I jus-"

Drew cut off your little ramble. "I'd love to." He smiled.

You grinned back at him before opening your door and letting him inside along with y/d/n, closing the door behind you three.

~~~~~~

[alsaurus-loves-dean]

What Dean Has To Say a destiel fic by alsaurus | rating: T | word count: 3.8k When Cas comes back, he disappears.

He’s supposedly still in the bunker. According to Sam, he doesn’t seem to have left the building at all since he arrived.

Dean wouldn’t know, because Cas is avoiding him.

It’s the only explanation. Why else would it be impossible to find his best friend even though they’re under the same roof 24/7? Not that Dean has really gone looking for him, but still. They haven’t crossed paths once since Cas got back three days ago. This wouldn’t be so weird on its own (yes it would), except Sam sees Cas all the time. So what gives?

Dean knows what gives, but at the same time? He doesn’t really. Cas is obviously reluctant to talk to Dean after what he’d said to trigger his deal with the Empty. He’d said all that under the assumption that he’d never have to face a response. Dean understands. He would definitely feel the same if he were in that position. But Cas? Cas is the bravest, purest, and most sincere person that Dean has ever met. How could someone like that be afraid to talk to someone like Dean?

This isn’t how Dean had expected this to go.

He’d wanted Cas back more than anything he’s ever wanted in his life. He’d never felt joy the way he felt when he saw Cas out of the Empty, back in the bunker where he belonged. Dean knew he needed to be with Cas, that Cas was it for him.

But he’d also kind of assumed that Cas would take the lead, here. Cas, who was so straightforward and free of human insecurities, would be the one to bring it up - if only just to assure Dean that nothing had to change. Then Dean would have the perfect opening to tell him he felt the same. If words failed him in that moment, Dean was also prepared to let his body do some of the talking.

Dean had not imagined that Cas would just straight-up hide from him for days on end. It’s frustrating, but also a little endearing.

Okay, it’s a lot endearing. Very endearing. Some might even say it’s adorable. Not Dean, though. Sure, Cas is so flustered at the idea of talking to Dean about his feelings that he literally won’t show his stupid angel face - so what? What’s even cute about that?

Anyway.

Dean is starting to get antsy about the whole thing. He’s not exactly anxious, but he’s so amped up that his body interprets it as anxiety. He had to cut down on the caffeine because he’d started to feel like he was vibrating out of his skin. For someone Dean never sees, Cas sure does occupy a whole lot of space in Dean’s head most of the time. He finds it difficult to really focus on anything else, so he’s watched a LOT of movies the past few days - just zoning out with only half his attention on the screen.

“Why are you sitting here in the dark by yourself?” Sam asks from the doorway, making Dean jolt in surprise.

Dean hadn’t realized he’d turned the TV off after Dirty Dancing had ended. He really is just sitting in the Dean Cave, in the dark, by himself. Awesome.

“What‘s it to you? And who am I supposed to be sitting with, anyway? Not like Cas wants anything to do with me,” Dean grumbles. Laying it on just a little thick, since he knows better than Sam why Cas isn’t here.

“What is up with you two, anyway?” Sam asks, and it’s obvious that he’s been waiting for the opportunity to do so. He flips the light switch and comes to sit in the other chair. He’s perched on the edge of it, leaning towards Dean as if to signify how very important he finds this conversation. How he’s not going to let Dean out of it.

Fine.

“Cas is just being a baby. He thinks he can just confess his undying love for me and peace out, and then once I rescue his ass he can just avoid dealing with the whole thing,” Dean starts. Then he finds he doesn’t want to stop, despite Sam’s eyes going wide in shock. “Seriously, man, I don’t know how much longer I can take this. Like how long am I supposed to wait? We should have spent these whole three days in bed doing all kinds of freaky shit - but look at me, Sam! I’m sitting alone in the dark without even realizing it because the dude lives rent free in my freakin’ head!”

“Umm,” Sam says.

“I get that he’s nervous, but so am I! I mean, he’s the one whose cards are already on the table. I’m the one who has shit to say! I don’t even know if I’ll be able to say it, but I’ll never find out if I never even see the guy!”

“Okay, hold on. Just a minute. You’re saying that Cas told you...?”

“Yeah.”

“That he - “

“Yep.”

“And you want to say it back.”

“Sure. If you wanna call it that.”

“Come on, Dean.”

“I mean yeah, Sam, what do you want me to say? I have no idea how it’ll go down. I still haven’t seen him since we got him back.”

Sam starts to smile, and Dean doesn’t like the look of that.

“So what, he’s avoiding you because he’s scared of what you’ll say?” Sam asks.

Dean shrugs.

“I guess. Why else would he avoid me and not you?”

Sam’s smile grows as he sits back in the chair, settling in. He watches Dean for a few moments, eyes twinkling like he’s about to say something really stupid. Why did Dean think that opening up about this would be a good idea?

“That’s actually kind of cute,” Sam says.

Dean rolls his eyes so hard he has to throw his head against the back of the chair.

“Don’t you start with that!” Dean groans. “It’s not cute, it’s annoying. It’s cowardice, is what it is!”

“Have you tried to find him?” Sam asks. The smirk on his face tells Dean he knows the answer but is asking just to be a little bitch.

“Shut up. Why does it have to be me, huh? Why do I have to be the one to bring it up?”

“I didn’t say you had to bring anything up. I just mean have you tried to talk to him at ALL? You say you haven’t seen him, but have you looked for him?”

Dean has not. But -

“I already looked for him, in the Empty! And I pulled him out. It was a whole thing! I think the ball’s in his court now.”

“Dean, think about it. You have a lot more experience with this kind of thing than he does,” Sam reasons.

It’s true. But at the same time -

“I have never experienced anything like this. Ever. Especially not with a dude,” Dean says. He feels out of his element, too. That’s why Cas was supposed to take charge! (Dean knows that doesn’t make sense, and he doesn’t care).

The smile on Sam’s face turns gentler, any trace of teasing disappearing.

“I’m surprised you’re even telling me all this,” Sam says.

“Sam, come on,” Dean protests, because he really doesn’t want to get into it.

“No, really! In the past you’ve been… very adamant about being straight.” Too adamant, is what Sam means. He’s not wrong.

“What’s your point?” Dean asks.

“I’m just glad this is happening, I guess.”

Dean can’t help but melt a little at that sentiment. Inwardly. On the outside, he’s still trying to act put out, but the longer he sits there trying not to confide in Sam, the stronger the pull to do so becomes. Like being caught in a wave, Dean finally lets it pour through him.

“It’s Cas. You know? It’s Cas. I spent too long worrying about all that. I’ve lost him too many times, Sam. I can’t really care about all that stuff anymore. So I just want him to know, you know? I don’t want my crap to keep Cas from getting what he wants. He deserves to get everything he wants. He can have it. I want him to have it. And I want him to know that.” Dean stops. Takes a deep breath, because that was a lot. Then he wraps it up. “And that means you’re gonna have to know at some point anyway, so. There you go.”

Sam looks shocked again, but in a totally different way that Dean doesn’t recognize at all. Which makes sense, considering this is the first time Dean’s ever admitted to having gay feelings for an angel of the Lord. It’s an unusual situation.

“That’s amazing, Dean. Seriously. I’m really, really happy for you,” Sam finally says.

Dean can tell he means it. He’s actually not sure he’s ever seen Sam so sincerely pleased. But Dean frowns at that last sentence.

“I don’t know what you have to be happy about just yet. Dude won’t even talk to me.”

“You said yourself that you haven’t even tried!”

“Yeah but I can take a hint, man. He doesn’t want to see me. Otherwise he’d have seen me.”

And it boils down to that, Dean realizes. Because while he understands that Cas is reluctant because he’s afraid, Dean is also hurt. It’s irrational, but he wants Cas’ love for him to be stronger than that fear. He aches for Cas every moment of every day and every night. He’s barely functioning because he feels like his entire existence is on pause - he hadn’t expected to be in this prolonged state of limbo. He’d been ready for Cas. But it turns out he’d been ready for a different Cas, one he’d thought up in his head - because the real Cas, the Cas he loves, is too afraid to face him and Dean has no idea how long that’ll last. He has no idea when or even if Cas will come to him. Every moment that passes could be the moment before Cas finally talks to him. It’s agony. It’s wonderful.

But he meant it when he said that Cas deserves everything he wants. So why should Cas have to seek it out, when Dean could just give it to him?

“I need to find him, huh,” Dean says, and it’s not a question.

“Yeah, man. You should do that,” Sam agrees. There isn’t an ounce of admonishment in his voice. He’s just supporting Dean, and for once, Dean is grateful.

“Thanks, Sammy,” he says,

Time to find the angel.

concluded in chapter 2. read the rest on ao3.

[vigilvntes]

Totally Not a Date (Thor Odinson x Reader)

A/N: i'm pretty sure 'totally not a date' is the first fic i ever posted on here which is kinda crazy to me. anyway this is a rewritten version because honestly the first version just needs to be wiped from existence so here you go. enjoy :)

word count: 2,100+

You sat across from Tony and Pepper in an almost uncomfortable, deafening silence. You knew from the very start that it was a bad idea, but you had promised Pepper that you would be there, and that you would have a date.

See, Pepper had informed you only three nights ago that she had made a reservation at the hot, new restaurant in the city, and that she had accidently made a reservation for four rather than two. Of course, you were suspicious, why wouldn't you be? It was not often that Pepper Potts herself made mistakes and having worked for a guy like Tony for years before the pair grew romantically, she had mastered the art of making reservations and booking tables. Not to mention she was a complete perfectionist. But you chose to shrug it off.

"So, what's the plan then? Me, you, Nat and Wanda?" You asked nonchalantly, your eyes glued to your phone. Pepper's small laugh only seconds later tore them right away. You looked up at her, narrowing your eyes, "What?"

Pepper raised her eyebrows at you, a smirk on her features, "As much as I would love to treat the girls, I reserved the table for a date night..." Your face suddenly dropped as you began to catch her drift. "So, since there's four seats I thought I'd ask you."

"But there's four seats, so me and...?"

She let lout a breathy laugh, "I was hoping you'd have that part covered for me. Be there for eight, and make sure you bring a date." Before you could respond, she had turned on her heels and left you sitting in the front room of the Avengers tower, completely shook.

You considered bailing more than once during the days leading up to the date. However, you found yourself stood outside of the restaurant at eight, awaiting your friends and your 'date' for the night. Tony and Pepper had arrived on time, and the chilly winds of New York that night had prompted the three of you to enter the restaurant and wait for your date inside. You hadn't told either of them who you would be bringing, for fear of being teased by Tony relentlessly for hours beforehand, and because he had warned you that he wasn't entirely sure he'd make it in time. Of course, you didn't mind, it was nothing more than a fake date. Nothing important. So why did you feel so down when the clock read 8:15 and no one had turned up for you?

Tony cleared his throat, breaking the silence which had engulfed the three of you. "Are we... Uh, are we ready to order?"

You were grateful for Tony and his appetite; you couldn't stand the quiet atmosphere, or the sad looks Pepper kept throwing your way. You were just about to open your mouth to let Tony know it was okay to order, but a deep, booming voice, one you didn't expect to hear tonight, stopped you in your tracks.

"My apologies for being so late. I had business to take care of in Asgard." You turned your head quickly, and your jaw dropped at the sight of the tall, blonde Asgardian prince as he pulled out the chair beside you and took a seat. He looked good, you had to admit. He wore a black dress shirt and black dress pants, and his hair had been pulled up into a bun. It was an almost effortless look, something you knew he had thrown together quickly upon his arrival to the tower, but he pulled it off regardless.

Tony was the first to reply, "No worries, big guy. We were just about to order." Tony glanced over at Pepper, a small smirk on his lips. Judging from the look of utter shock on your face, Tony could tell that Thor was most definitely not who you were expecting as your date, but he was excited to see how it would pan out.

You couldn't lie to yourself, Thor was one of the most attractive men you had ever laid your eyes on, and you would be being dishonest if you said you didn't have a little crush on him. He was always kind to you, polite. The issue was, the two of you had never held a real conversation for more than five minutes. He wasn't around as often as Steve or Tony, Thor spent most days in Asgard or any of the other nine realms attempting to fix the mess his brother had made, which left little room for any form of bonding between the two of you.

As Pepper and Tony broke out into conversation about the latest Stark- whatever. You didn't really care all that much. You leaned to the side and mumbled a harsh, "What are you doing here?" You didn't mean for it to come across so mean, but you were shocked. You had expected anyone but Thor.

He let out a loud chuckle, which caught the attention of the couple sat opposite you, as you notice them glance towards the both of you. Was anything ever subtle when it came to Thor? You had figured out incredibly quickly that the answer was no. When the two had looked away and continued their conversation, Thor finally gave you the answers you wanted. "The Captain told me that he had already informed you of his absence."

"Well, he lied." You'd surely chastise him for that later, depending on how the night went.

"He had somewhere to be. So, when I returned, he proposed that I should come here instead. How could I pass up going to dinner with a lady like yourself?" He grinned.

You felt your face flush as you just stared at him, not all too sure whether Thor meant that or whether he was just trying to make you feel more comfortable with the idea of him being there rather than Steve. You weren't sure whether it was working, you just knew his presence alone made you feel flustered.

You only realised how embarrassingly long you had been staring at Thor when the waiter interrupted. Luckily, you had time to pull yourself together, as the waiter recognised both Tony and Thor and shyly asked for a picture, to which they both obliged. He took Tony and Pepper's orders first, before turning to you. "What can I get for you and your lovely date?"

Just as you had gotten yourself together, you were broken right back down again, feeling your face flushing once again. "I- No... We're not dating. I- the reservations... They were for four people and... It's not a date - "

"Were here as friends. Third and fourth wheeling, you could say." Thor interrupted, covering for you.

The waiter, not entirely convinced, just nodded his head slowly, "Right... Got it." Before taking your orders and swiftly leaving.

Tony scoffed, "For future reference, you're so not convincing, (Y/)." He let out a chuckle when you shot him an annoyed glare.

Again, Tony and Pepper fell swiftly into conversation, and you wished it were that easy for you and Thor. After a minute's silence, you thought you'd make a little small talk. "So, how's Asgard?"

He smiled and leant back in his seat, "Asgard is... Fine. We're still trying to restore peace amongst the Nine Realms, and we've suffered some great losses."

"I'm sorry to hear that Thor. And your parents? And... him?" You assumed Thor would know who you were speaking of, considering he had waged a war against Earth only a year ago.

"Loki will spend the remainder of his days in a cell. My father couldn't see the son he raised be sentenced to death. My mother grieves for him every day." He replied, being as honest with you as he could.

"I'm sorry about that. It must be rough." All the talk of his brother and Asgard was starting to take a slight toll on the night for you, and you could see he felt the same. You desperately hoped for a change of subject.

Thor took your hand, something you didn't expect him to do, but it felt so... right? He was attractive, that much you knew. But did you really have feelings for him this whole time? Surely he wasn't just touching you, and throwing those gorgeous, heart-warming smiles at you out of kindness? Out ofdoing Steve a favour?

 "Don't be sorry. I don't mind you asking." He paused for a moment, offering you a smile whilst stroking the top of your hand with his thumb, "How's the creature at your residence?"

Furrowing your eyebrows for a second, you tried to understand what he was talking about. Until it dawned on you. You laughed, "The creature? You mean my cat, Florence?"

He nodded, "Yes, the cat....creature." 

You shook your head, letting out a chuckle, "She's fine. She's getting fatter, though. I'm a little worried about her." You paused for a few moments, before you realised that Thor had never actually met your cat. "How did you find out about Florence?"

"The Captain let me see pictures of her on his device. I reckon I'd quite enjoy her company." He grinned at you again, and you couldn't help but melt a little more. And even more when you realised he still held your hand in his.

The rest of the evening went exceptionally well. Yourself and Thor seemed to never run out of things to talk about, and he found himself regretting having not approached you sooner. The two of you got along like a house on fire as he, in all his loud, eccentric glory, told you stories of his childhood and the adventures he had across the Nine Realms with his friends, whilst you listened tentatively, completely taken in by his every word.

At one point, as he spoke of Asgard, he offered to take you there one day, claiming that his mother would 'love your company'. You were sure he was just saying that, that he didn't actually mean it, so you politely declined his offer this time.

"As you wish. But I'll get you to agree one day. I swear." You could only laugh at his determination for you to visit his home.

When you left the restaurant, you and Thor walked ahead of Pepper and Tony, still deep in conversation. You grinned at him, "We should watch a movie when we get back. I was thinking a Disney movie?"

He nodded, smiling down at you, "That would be wonderful. I like the one about the lions and the kings."

You furrowed your eyebrows, "You mean...the Lion King."

He pointed at you, "Yes! That one! How did you know?" You just laughed in response.

Behind you, as they watched the whole scene, Tony scoffed, "Look at them, pretending not to be head over heels for each other. Disgusting. It makes me feel sick."

Pepper chucked lightly in response, nudging Tony, "Shush, you."

extended ending

When you entered the tower, Thor's arm wrapped around your shoulder, you saw none other than Steve Rogers sat in the common area. You raised your eyebrows, "Steve? What are you doing here? I thought you went away on some mission?"

He shrugged, trying his best to keep a straight face and a smooth voice, "Yeah... About that. Fury called off the mission. Said another team fixed whatever issues they were having."

You didn't believe that for one second and neither did Thor, but you chose not to press the matter, honestly not caring whether Steve had set you up.

"How was your date?" He asked.

You opened your mouth, about to deny for the second time that night that it was in fact, not a date, but as you felt Thor's fingers gently brushing your shoulders, you gave in. Of course it was a date. A date that you hadn't agreed to, a date that had shocked you, but a date nonetheless. And a damn good one. "It was great, actually." You looked up at Thor, "I'll go find a movie."

He nodded, "I'll go get snacks."

Furrowing your eyebrows, you stared at him in confusion, "You're still hungry? After everything you ate at the restaurant?"

Steve nodded to himself, a small smile on his lips as he listened to your playful banter. His plan had worked, and he was damn proud of himself.

[lafourmii20]

That prompt list is so hard to choose from! Lots of good stuff on there!

Couldn’t go past #54 though for ironfroststrange! (Please and thank you 😊)

Thank you for the ask @knightryder24 🥰 I had a lot of fun writing for this prompt. It's probably not what you had in mind, but I hope you like it!

Sorry it took me so much time to answer. I hope that the fact it is 2k long (which is way more than my other answers to the intimacy prompts) will make up for it.

~~~

frostironstrange, tony stark, stephen strange, loki, morgan stark, fluff and awkwardness, chaste kissing, getting together

~~~

Date night was awkward. Well, what was he expecting, really? He invited Loki and Stephen to have dinner with him. The God of Mischief and the Sorcerer Supreme, together, in the same room with mere mortal Tony? Yeah, it was a sure recipe for trouble.

“More dessert?” he asked with not a small amount of unease.

“Oh, I would love to take your dessert, darling,” Loki purred suggestively, with glinting eyes and smirking lips, and there was no way he was talking about the chocolate cake offered to him.

Tony gulped.

“Thank you, Tony,” Stephen replied softly, taking a piece for himself and another for Loki, thankfully cutting through Loki’s aggressive flirting.

Tony lost himself for a second in Stephen’s mesmerizing blue-green eyes, took a little strength from the wizard’s calm demeanor, then shook his head. No, this was still a terrible idea. What was he thinking inviting them in his house?

Well, truth be told, it wasn’t his idea. Stephen suggested it, and Loki approved. So really, if anyone was to blame for the poor night they were all having, it wasn’t Tony.

But maybe it wasn’t such a bad evening. Sure, there were awkward silences, uneasy glances and shy blushes. But there were also good wine and great Asgardian ale. They talked about magic and science and technology, Asgardian customs that should be abandoned forever, and others that would do great to Earth societies. They discussed life, love, family and relationships.

They talked about their relationship.

Their weird relationship wasn’t exactly a new thing. They’d been dancing around each other for months now. Since Thanos, they had been getting closer and closer together. Tony just had to meet the Sorcerer who orchestrated everything and helped them to win. After screaming at him with all the strength of his lungs for not telling him what the plan was, Tony understood and tried to get to know the man better. They got along far better than he ever dared to imagine.

Tony met Loki in totally different circumstances. With a whole ass alien nation now settling on Earth, Tony got involved in the smooth integration of New Asgard. That was where he got to know Loki, and the mischievous God carved a place into his heart scarily quickly, if he were honest.

What he discovered with these two men was beautiful, just as broken as Tony was, but glorious (as Loki would love to say). It was a deep friendship that slowly evolved into something else, into something more.

Tony would never forget the day he held Stephen’s hand for the first time, carefully cradling his trembling fingers between his own. The trust in Stephen’s eyes took his breath away.

The strong hug he shared with Loki one afternoon, was also etched into his memory, a fond time and a show of vulnerability like no other. It was truly glorious.

Tony also knew Loki and Stephen exchanged a chaste kiss at the Sanctum, even though he didn’t know the details. He just found it infinitely endearing. But it brought some difficult questions to his mind.

“Why would I have to choose only one of you, when I adore you both?” Loki had asked incredulously one day, when Tony broached the subject of their weird three-way relationship. Then, the Asgardian seemed to remember. “Oh, I see. Your Midgardian’s customs limit your view on the matter. In Asgard, a relationship is only what the people involved want it to be. Be it between a man and a woman, or two men, or two women, or more than two people and all the combination you could ever imagine.”

“So what do you want?” Tony had asked.

Loki only answered with a broad devilish smile.

Stephen suggested the dinner date the next day, and Loki approved immediately. And there they were. In this awkward situation, navigating the troubled water of a brand new relationship. Tony was about to embark on a relationship with not only one, but two magical men, and his head was spinning. In anticipation. In fear. Elation. Love too.

Double the love, who would have thought, uh?

“How about we move this to a more comfortable location?” Loki asked, bringing Tony back to the present. “The couch, maybe?” He arched his eyebrows suggestively again, and Tony lost his words (again) turning bright red. The God of Mischief was really good at making Tony blush these days. Damn. Tony was losing all his smooth flirting when he was with them.

“Sure,” he said. Jeez, that was so lame. He definitely was losing his cool with them. “You go there,” he gestured toward the living room, “I’ll make coffee and tea for Stephen. Our good doctor can’t end an evening without his chamomile tea, the fiend. I’ll take care of it.”

Stephen rolled his eyes, but simply smiled at Tony’s antics, and he left the table with Loki, guiding him through the house with a gentle hand on the small of his back.

The gesture was overwhelmingly delicate and tender, and fondness surged through Tony’s heart.

Too much, it was too much.

Finally alone after all the awkwardness and tension, Tony breathed out, paused for one second, before getting in motion again. He couldn’t stay still and let his brain do his overthinking thing. Except, he couldn’t stop thinking as he made the drinks on autopilot, too focused on his own thoughts (and the two Sorcerers casually sitting on his couch) to care about what his hands were doing.

What the hell was he doing? After all the hardship in his life, he couldn’t settle for a simple retirement plan in his cabin by the lake, with Morgan, and Pepper? Well, Pepper wasn’t exactly here anymore. They couldn’t make it work together and that was sad, but it was life, right? Life sucked. But they had found a balance, between her new job in New York and his simple life by the lake, and their amazing daughter to raise. It wasn’t ideal, but it seemed to work for them.

And now, Tony wanted to complicate all this delicate balance with this new and weird relationship?

What was he thinking?

“Hey.” Stephen’s gentle voice interrupted Tony’s spiraling thoughts, and a shaking hand landed on his shoulder.

Tony turned to face the other man. The hand, still on his shoulder, calmed him a little, silenced his thoughts.

“Hi,” Tony whispered.

Stephen’s lips curled into a tender smile that warmed Tony’s heart. Red tinted his sharp cheekbones, from the wine and the Asgardian ale they shared earlier. His eyes glinted, maybe because he kissed Loki again on the couch while waiting for Tony. Oh, how he would love to join them and shut the voices in his head telling him this was a bad idea.

“Are you okay?” Stephen asked in his deep voice. “Is it too much, for you? We can leave if you want to. We would understand.”

“No!” Tony immediately blurted out. His hand came up to hold on to Stephen’s wrist. He was careful not to grip the fine bones too tight, and to avoid the delicate scarred fingers, but he couldn’t let go, couldn’t let Stephen (and Loki) leave him. He wanted them here, with him. Forever.

“Stay, please,” he finally said. “It’s just… It’s a lot. But I want you here.”

Tony’s heart fluttered at Stephen’s answering smile, the softest and loveliest curl of his lips. And his eyes shone so bright with affection. Maybe love?

Tony gripped Stephen’s wrist in his hand, drew him closer while getting on his tiptoes. There, he left a gentle kiss on Stephen’s cheek. A surprised yet pleased sound escaped Stephen’s lips and Tony couldn’t wait to hear all the beautiful noises he could get from this man. Loki would probably be impossible to shake, but maybe he might help Tony to fluster Stephen? That would be lovely. Tony couldn’t wait to have both men with him, in his bed, and suddenly he wasn’t so afraid of this whole situation anymore.

“Let’s go find Loki, before he burns my house to the ground,” he said.

“Absolutely,” Stephen laughed before putting his arm around Tony’s waist, and making his way to the living room.

Which was empty when they arrived.

“Lokes?”

Tony’s heart dropped. Did Loki leave? Did he already get tired of them and just left?

But then, Tony heard a high-pitched giggle and a low voice from the bedrooms. He frowned, then hurried upstairs, Stephen on his heels. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Loki. But he wasn’t sure how the God of Mischief would handle his daughter, and Tony wasn’t ready to take any risks with his sweet little Morgan.

But when he peeked through her bedroom door, Tony’s heart melted. Morgan was in her bed, carefully tucked under the covers. Loki sat on the floor beside her bed, a book on his lap, his soft voice lulling her to sleep with a story. Except, every few sentences, he stopped, made a comment about the improbability of the tale, or how his own adventures were far more interesting, and Morgan giggled with him. It seemed like she was getting less and less sleepy, completely defeating the purpose of the bedtime story in the first place.

Tony melted.

“What are you doing up, little miss? It’s past your bedtime, you should be sleeping.”

“Loki is reading me a story.”

He could see that. The great God of Mischief felt utterly out of place on the floor of the little room painted in all sorts of bubblegum-pink shades Morgan loved so much.

“The little munchkin wanted a bedtime story. I thought it would amuse her greatly to hear the story of how I defeated the great enemies of Asgard, but she wanted me to read this book instead.” He showed them the title and Tony repressed a giggle of his own—it was just too hilarious to imagine Loki reading a children’s book.

“This little red riding hood story is particularly gruesome. I love it,” Loki commented with a wide and devilish smile.

“It’s great,” Morgan commented from the bed. “But he’s not doing the voices.”

Loki pouted and this time, Tony truly laughed.

“Come on, darling,” Stephen said joining Loki on the floor. “You have to do the voices. I’ll be the wolf, you’ll be the grandma.”

Loki looked disgusted.

“Tony can be the grandma.”

“Sure, I’ll be the grandma. I have a mug that says ‘Best Grandma in the world’ in the kitchen’s cabinet, anyway.”

“Come here, Grandma,” Stephen gestured to him laughing.

Tony joined them on the floor. They were truly ridiculous, three grown men sitting on a pink carpet, with a children’s book between them. But Morgan was smiling with all her missing tooth and Tony was feeling all fuzzy inside. Like he was at the right place.

Finally.

Maybe the three of them together wasn’t such a bad idea.

Reading a fairytale with three opinionated men was a disaster. They were all reading atop of each other, commenting on the other voices — ‘The grandma isn’t that weak, Tony.’ ‘Yes she is, that’s why she gets eaten.’ ‘Spoiler alert!’ ‘Oh come on doc, you don’t have to make your voice so deep.’ ‘Show off.’ ‘Lokes, you’re cheating.’ ‘I’m not.’ ‘Using magic is cheating.’ ‘It sets the atmosphere.’ ‘Show off.’ ’Shut up, wizard.’

And yet, Morgan was smiling, Tony too, and when his daughter eventually fell asleep—by some miracle even his genius brain couldn’t explain—he was smiling even wider.

Maybe—definitely—this relationship wasn’t such a bad idea. So instead of ushering Loki and Stephen and their awkwardness from the beginning out the door, Tony led them to his bedroom. And what they did behind the closed door was only the beginning of their relationship.

~~~

Inspired by this intimacy prompt list (my ask box is still open for prompts (or anything else), just know that it might take me some time to answer prompts because I have other projects I need to focus on right now)

Prompts filled: 3. touching foreheads (ironstrangefrost) 7. kissing scars (ironstrange) 23. wearing someone’s clothing (ironstrange) 29. kissing while mad (ironstrange) 30. being protective (drpepperony) 47. cuddling under blankets (ironstrangefrost) 54. reading a book together (ironstrangefrost) 59. height difference (ironstrange)

Currently working on:

[seungmoroll]

Heather | Han Jisung

Word count: 5.2k

Genre: slight angst, fluff, realization of feelings

A/N: this is the second part to Minho’s Heather, so if you haven’t already, you can read it here, though it’s not really necessary to read it. you can also read the other member’s here. 

F/n = friend’s name

Jisungs POV

    “No.”

    “But-“

    “No.”

    “What happened to providing the best service to your customers?”

    “Jisung,” they lock eyes with me before they continue their sentence, “I am not going to give you a large cup filled with pearls.”

    “But I’m willing to pay for it.” I give them my best puppy dog eyes in hope that they’ll give up their resolve. I had a plan, and I refuse to let Y/n get in the way of it.

    “Yeah, but I’m not willing to clean up the mess you’re going to make.” How did they know what I was going to do with the pearls?

    “I-“

    “I know exactly what you’re going to do with those tapioca pearls, and as much as I would love to see Changbin suffer, I refuse to clean up the boba you plan on spitting out at him.” Dang, they were spot on with my plan.

    “Fine.” I reluctantly say. A look of content settles on their face, “Good.”

    “I’ll just wait until Minho comes out.” A frown quickly replaces the look of content on their face. “No you will not.”

    “Did I hear my name?” Minho pops out from the back room, making me quickly change my plan of attack. I will get the boba.

    “Nope, no you didn’t. You can head back to the back room.” Y/n quickly says, trying to get Minho to leave.

“There’s my favorite CuTea worker,” I say in attempt to butter Minho up. I can feel the glare Y/n is giving me, but I ignore it and continue at my attempt to get my cup of boba, “Minho, you’ll get me a cup of pearls, right?”

    He gives me a smirk, “Oh, we spitting them at Changbin?” This is why he was my favorite worker…right after Y/n.

    “No, stop it right now. You do know that if you give him the pearls, we’re,” they motion their hand between the two of them, “the ones that are going to have to clean it up.”

    Minho takes a moment to think before he tells me, “Yeah, sorry bud, I’d totally give you some, but I got places to be after work.” By places, he meant wherever Doyeon was, we all knew. Deciding to change the topic for the sake of Y/n, “Right. Y/n,” focusing my attention on them, “you doing anything after work tonight?”

    Leaning against the counter, they say, “Uh yeah, going home to lay in the comfort of my bed.” Great. This meant good for me.

    “Well not anymore.”

    They quirk their eyebrow at me in confusion, “Excuse me?”

    “You didn’t let me finish. Let’s go out.” This time it’s Minho who quirks his eyebrow at me, which I choose to ignore as I focus on Y/n. There’s a weird expression on their face, and then that’s when I realize that what I said sounded a bit weird.

    “Like let’s hang out. You and me…as friends. Not like going out out.” I’m just making it worse and more awkward, aren’t I?

    “I’d like to Sung, but I’m tired, and I need my sleep.” Oh, you have no idea how much I love it when you call me that name, Y/n.

    “Then how about another time this week?”

    “Hmmm, what about Wednesday?” That was two days from now.

    “Wednesday? I can do that. You working that day?”

    “Yeah, but I got an earlier shift, I’ll be done by 5.” Oh? This is working awfully well for me. I’m internally jumping up and down and pumping my fists, but externally I try to play it off nonchalantly.

    “Great, it’s a date.” Keyword try. “Not like a date date, but you know.” Y/n starts to giggle at my way of trying to escape the awkwardness, and I swear that that was the sound you hear when the gates of heaven open. However, it sadly ends when the door opens, alerting the shop of a new customer. Getting out of the way for the customer, I stand off to the side of the counter, where Minho is suspiciously looking at me.

    “Is there a problem? Is there something on my face?” I quickly grab my phone from my pocket to check myself through the reflection. Fortunately, there’s nothing, but it would’ve been so embarrassing if there was while I was talking to Y/n. Instead of responding, Minho just chuckles and shakes his head.

    Before I can say anything to him, the door opens again, and I see that it’s F/n. They approach the three of us at the counter, “Hey guys.”

    “Hey F/n.” Y/n’s angelic voice says. Minho gives them a curt nod.

    “What can I get for you today?” Y/n asks F/n.

    “Let’s see, I’ll have a strawberry banana smoothie with pearls.” Speaking of pearls, I open my mouth to say something to F/n, but Y/n stops me before I can get a single word out. “Don’t even think about it.”

    In a second attempt to ask F/n, they cut me off, “I don’t want to know, nor do I want to participate in it.” Their response makes me visibly shrink.

    After paying for their drink, F/n says to me, “We should sit down and get to work.” F/n and I were currently taking geology together, and we were paired together to work on a group project. We’ve been working on it for the past three weeks, and I was the one that had suggested we work on it at CuTea. Though, F/n wanted to work on the project at the library, but I like to believe that my cute charms made them change their mind.

    Parting from Y/n and Minho, we go and sit down at a table, with me making sure that I have a good view of Y/n. It’s not like I creepily watch them or anything, but I enjoy those small moments when we meet each other’s eyes.  However, I’m sure those moments mean nothing to Y/n. When Y/n approaches our table to serve F/n drink, I focus my attention on them as the smile brightly at me and walk away, back to behind the counter with Minho.

    “So we only have these last few things to do before we can submit the project, and you’re not even listening to me.” A hand comes into view, bringing me back to focus on F/n. I can tell by their face that they’re not happy with me.

    In attempt to make them happy, I tell them, “I was totally listening to you.”

    They roll their eyes at me, “Sure, you were.” Playfully, I grab the straw wrapper that was on the table and ball it up, throwing it F/n for not believing me. They manage to dodge it and playfully glare at me.

    “You like them, don’t you?” Confused, I tilt my head to the side in attempt to try to figure out what they mean.

    Sighing, “Y/n. You like them, it’s obvious.” My eyes widen in shock at their statement. I’m not that obvious, am I? Maybe I should be surprised that F/n. They picked up on the smallest things, like the first week of us working together, they pointed out that I like to stuff my cheeks while I eat.

    Leaning closer towards them, in case Minho, or worse, Y/n could hear us, “Is it?”

    “You don’t treat me the same way you do them, so yeah, it’s quite obvious.” Of course I didn’t treat them the same.

    “That’s because you’re you.” I could tell by the look on their face that my answer did not satisfy them. “I mean-“

    “Don’t finish that sentence.” I slowly shut my mouth to prevent anymore words from spewing out of my mouth. I really need to work on thinking before speaking, it’s going to be a big problem for me one day.

    “You plan on telling them?” I choke on my spit after hearing their question. After I manage to not die 7 feet away from Y/n, I look at F/n in bewilderment. Of course I thought about telling Y/n, but I shut down the idea every time. There were many obstacles in the way, and to be quite frank, I don’t think I can go around them.

    “I don’t have a chance.” They cock their eyebrow at me encouraging me to continue.

    “They like Minho. Liked Minho. I don’t know. Either way if they liked Minho then I definitely don’t have a chance.” I could definitely say that Minho was what everyone wanted in a man. He was handsome, smart, funny; he was even a good cat dad, which is what I found out from him after he spent half an hour showing me pictures of his cats. He was basically the whole package.

    “Han Jisung. Don’t you dare put yourself down like that. You’re an amazing, sweet, funny guy, anyone that doesn’t like you has a problem.” I knew F/n was just saying that to make me feel better, but it was still nice to hear. However, I can’t help but squint my eyes at them in suspicion, “I think that was the nicest thing you’ve said to me, are you okay? Are you sick?” Reaching out, I place my hand on their forehead to check their temperature. Weird. They’re pretty warm. I can see them looking up at my hand in bewilderment, then all of a sudden, I feel a small tinge of pain in my arm. Clutching said arm, I dramatic express my pain, “Ow, what was that for?”

    Instead of the devilish look I was expecting, there was what I think to be a hint of embarrassment on their face. I don’t know, but their face was quickly reddening.

    “Hey, but seriously are you okay, you’re pretty warm and your face is turning red.” They quickly grab their face to hide it, “I’m fine, it’s just hot in here.” I checked the thermostat that’s located on the wall and see that it’s only at 70 degrees, which wasn’t hot at all, but decide against saying anything. Alternatively, I push their drink towards them, “Here take a sip of your drink.” Quickly they do as I say, and once they’ve taken a long sip, they say, “Let’s get started on this project.”

    We spend about an hour and a half working on the project, and I can proudly say that I actually focused on my work and not Y/n. Though I was very much tempted when I heard her laugh, probably from what Minho said. Eventually we call it a day, with only a few small things that we have to go over remaining. “So when’s the next time we should meet? It’ll be the last time we have to work on this stupid project.”

    “How about Wednesday? I was already planning on coming here, so we can just meet up here and finish everything up.”

    A snicker escapes from their mouth, “You come here so often, aren’t you worried that it might seem odd?” I did think about that once, but I’ve already came up with an excuse in case anyone asked. “Don’t worry, if anyone asks, I just really like the drinks.”

    I’m 100% sure that I hear the word obvious come out from their mouth. I can’t get a word in because Changbin comes barging in the door, “Jisung c’mon, get your butt moving.” Looking at Changbin then at Y/n, who’s by the counter with a knowing look on their face.

    “You sure I can’t get that cup?” I ask Y/n.

    Giggling while shaking their head, she says to Changbin, “It’s your lucky day, I saved you.” He cocks his head, unsure of what’s happening. As I come up to him, I tell him that it’s nothing.

    The following day was possibly one of the worse days I’ve experienced. I had slept through my alarm causing me to miss two of my classes and then when I went to get lunch with Chan, I spilt my soup all over me. Which is why I decided to stop by CuTea, I needed to see Y/n to make my day better.

    I barge into the door expecting to see the beautiful face that belongs to Y/n, but instead I am met with the sight of Minho at the counter. Confused, I look at the time on my watch and see that Y/n’s shift should have started already.

    “They’re not here.” Minho says to me, continuing, “They took the day off.” I instinctively pout because I won’t be seeing Y/n today, meaning that I had to wait another day to see their angelic face. Instead of turning back around and leaving, I order a drink and as I wait for Minho to make it, he starts a conversation with me.

    “You know that I know right?” Tilting my head, confused as ever, I watch as he slightly shakes his head at me. I had no idea what he was referring to.

    “I know you like Y/n.” My eyes widen at his statement. Was I really that obvious? He was the second person to tell me that this week. Oh no, if Minho knows, then that means Y/n most likely knows too. Seeing the panic on my face, Minho reassures me, “Don’t worry, Y/n is oblivious. They don’t know.” I let out a sigh of relief. “Or maybe they do, and they choose to ignore it.” I can’t tell whether he’s joking or not, but either way, I don’t appreciate it.

    “Don’t worry, I’m just messing with you.” Minho hands me my drink, and I eye him suspiciously as a take a sip of it. I’m sure he wants to laugh at the look I give him, but he goes on to say, “Why don’t we sit down and talk.” I hesitantly agree, but that’s because I’m slightly scared of him.

    Sitting down at a table, I refuse to make eye contact with Minho. He keeps on giving me this look and I don’t know what it means, nor do I like it.

    “There’s something else that I know.” Now looking at him, I can tell that what he wants to talk about it serious. “I know that Y/n likes me.” Oh. That’s not what I was expecting. So he knew? I wonder if Y/n knows that he knows. Maybe they didn’t want to tell me because they felt embarrassed.

    Feigning innocence, I ask him, “Does she now?” He could be trying to play with me, and I wasn’t going to fall for it.

    “Quit that, I know you know.” Well he’s no fun.

    Quickly stopping my act, I ask him, “How’d you find out?”

    “I’ve known for a while now. It was kind of obvious.” He wasn’t wrong there. Even I could tell before I started talking to Y/n. Hm, that’s something that we had in common, being obvious. Wait, now is not the time to focus on our similarities.

    “Why didn’t you do anything about it?” I wasn’t mad or anything, well maybe just a little bit, but that was because he knew all along and never said anything to Y/n.

    “I didn’t want to hurt them.” Is the excuse he gives me.

    “It might be too late for that,” I sharply say.

    He awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, “Yeah…I know. Look, I didn’t want to reject them and break their heart. I really like them as a friend and I just didn’t want to ruin that. Plus, I really like Doyeon.” That last part wasn’t necessary to add, but I don’t say anything about it. Instead I ask, “Why are you telling me all of this hyung?” Minho and I weren’t that close. Outside of Y/n and CuTea, we never talk to each other, so why would he tell me this?

    “Like I said earlier, I know you like Y/n.” I had no idea where he was going with this conversation. “I think you should tell them.”

    “No.” Why was everyone telling me to confess? Is it try to embarrass and ruin Jisung’s life week or something?

    “And why not?”

    “Because…” I look away from him as he sits there and waits for my answer. “Because?” I can’t believe I was really about to tell him this. I mumble out my answer, not wanting him to understand a single word I said. “Jisung.” I didn’t appreciate the tone he said my name in, but I also knew that I was being a bit childish.

    “I said, because they don’t like me, and I don’t want to get rejected.” You can’t blame me for being scared of being rejected, I’m human after all.

    “And what makes you think that will happen?”

    “Did you just forget about our conversation earlier? They like you, not me, so of course I’m going to get rejected.” How many times do I have to say that Y/n like Minho? It’s starting to get annoying, especially since I have to say it to Minho himself.

    “Who’s to say they don’t like you too?” What kind of question was that? There was no way that Y/n could like me.

    “Did you like snort all the sugar back there or something? Y/n doesn’t like me, at least not in the way I want them to.”

    “You won’t know until you do something.” That’s it, he was definitely crazy, either that he wanted me to see me suffer.

    Instead of responding, I get up from my chair, “I should get going.”

    “Leaving so soon?” This conversation was starting to get repetitive for me and I didn’t like it. I didn’t come here to make my day worse. I don’t respond to him once again, so he asks me, “Got things to do?”

    In attempt to leave me alone, I say, “Yea, something like that.”

    “Like confess to Y/n?” I don’t have to look at him to know that he’s smirking. I’m sure that if I were to turn around and face him, that my eyes would literally shoot daggers at him.

    “Not going to happen.” I make my exit from the boba shop, and as make my way home, I can’t help but think about the conversation I had with Minho.

    Today’s the day. The day I get to hang out with Y/n outside of CuTea. Yesterday might’ve been the worse day ever, but there was no way I was going to let anything ruin today. F/n and I were meeting up at 4 to finish up our project, and then I’ll be heading out with Y/n. We agreed to go to a restaurant to get dinner and then to the park just to talk. I’m bringing my skateboard because one time they mentioned how they wanted to learn how to ride one, so I thought this might be a chance to do so.

    When arrive at CuTea later on that day, another worker is working the counter, I think their name is Sana. I’m assuming Y/n is in the back room. Once Sana has taken my order, I choose the same table from Monday to sit at, waiting for F/n to arrive.

Once they arrive, I motion for them to come sit down and slide a drink to their side of the table, “Here, I ordered your drink for you already.”

    “Oh. Um, thanks.” Pulling out their laptop from their bag, we get started on the finishing touches. I didn’t bring me laptop since I was going out, so we had to share F/n’s laptop. After we finished what needed to be done, we reviewed everything to make sure that everything was there, but I was struggling to see the screen, so I grabbed, F/n’s chair and pulled it closer to me. I could tell that they were flustered from my action when they asked what I was doing.

    “I can’t see the screen.”

    “Oh. Um, sorry. Is it better now?” Nodding my head yes, we continue to review the final project. Though something feels off about F/n, it’s like they were emitting anxiousness.

    “Hey are you okay?” They’re surprised by my question, but I can tell that there are other emotions they’re feeling.

    “Jisung,” pause, “I like you.” Uh, did I just hear that right?

    Turning to face my whole body towards them, I ask, “What are you going off about?” I wish that I didn’t turn because then I would’ve missed the way the visibly inflated.

    “You can’t be that dense, Jisung.” Honestly, I didn’t know what to say to them.

    “I’m sorry, but-“ they cut me off, something that everyone seems to be doing lately.

    “Don’t. Don’t’ apologize. I know, you like Y/n. I get it. I just wanted to let you know.” They begin to pack up their stuff as a way to escape my stare.

    “When?”

    I can tell that they’re taken back from my question, “When what?”

    “When did you start liking me?” There were no signs of F/n liking me, but then again not everyone was obvious like me, but still I should have been able to pick up on something.

    “Around the second week of us working on the project.” It’s been over two months, and I didn’t even realize it. Well this is awkward.

    “Well now that the project is done, we can stop hanging out with each other.” I watch as they get up from their seat and try make their way to the door. Getting up, I follow them, stopping them before they could leave.

    “Hey, wait up. What do you mean stop hanging out?”

    “Jisung, outside of this project, we would have never talked. We belong to two different circles.” It’s true. F/n’s group was more academic than Changbin, Chan, and I combined, but it’s not like you can’t hang out with those not in your circle.

    “Don’t say that.”

    “It’s true and you know it. Even if you didn’t like Y/n, I would have never had a chance with you. You and I both know that.” I could tell that F/n was starting to get frustrated with me, but I could let them leave without resolving whatever this was.

    “Why do you have to say it like that? Why are you making these assumptions?”

    “Because it’s true Jisung. I’m not your type and it’s clear to see with Y/n.”

    “Just because I don’t reciprocate your feelings doesn’t mean we have to stop being friends.” I liked hanging out with F/n, I didn’t want to stop talking after the project was over.

    “Yes it does. I can’t stand sitting right beside you and you having your eyes glued on Y/n, and with that being said, I’ll see you in class.” They barge out the door as I stand there unsure of how to take in the situation. I look around and I see that no one else in the shop was paying attention to us, or at least they stopped before I could notice. I sigh in defeat, but a voice brings me out of my mood.

    “Hey, did F/n leave already?” I slowly turn around to face Y/n, quickly changing the expression on my face and giving her a bright smile. I guess it was already 5.

    “Yeah, they had some other things to get to.” I didn’t actually know if they did, but I’d rather not tell Y/n what just went down, “You ready to head out?”

    The restaurant I decided to take Y/n out to was not even a restaurant. It was actually a food truck. I thought Y/n would’ve liked it better than any other place, and I was right because they love the Korean tacos they had. Since it was a food truck there were no actual chairs, so we sat on the sidewalk, talking and grubbing. If I were to be honest, I loved every moment of it. It was nice to talk about something that wasn’t boba related. I got to know Y/n more and vice versa. They also pointed out that I liked to stuff my cheeks with food and called me a chipmunk, and I couldn’t help but blush when the casually wiped a piece of food that was on my face. I would’ve been embarrassed, but I was too focus on the fact that their thumb was that close to my lips and that their hand felt so warm on my hand.

    Once we were both done with our food, I offered to throw away the trash, and when I walked back to Y/n, I saw that they were scrolling through Instagram and saw the photo that was displayed on their phone. It was a picture of Minho and Doyeon. Making sure that they knew that I was approaching, I saw that they had quickly turned off their phone. When I reached them, I said, “To the park?”

    Luckily the park was only 2 minutes away from where the food truck was. We had been walking in silence, until I saw a set of swings. Pointing at the swings, I ask, “Should we sit there?” Nodding their head, we make our way to the swings.

    Once seated, the silence comes back.

    “So…”

    “Don’t bring it up Jisung.” So they know that I saw their phone. However, I try to act clueless, “Bring what up?”

    “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

    “So I’m going to take that as a no then.”

    “No?”

    “No, you’re not over Minho.” Great. I really had to ruin the mood for the night by bringing this up, but I had to know the answer.

    “Jisung-“ This time it’s my turn to cut off their sentence.

    “No, it’s fine Y/n. I get it, you need time and Minho hyung is a cool guy, so of course you’re not over him yet, but I hope you know that there are other good guys out there. You shouldn’t wait for one specific fish when you could get others.”

    “Jisung, let me talk.”

    Something inside me had sparked, and for some reason I couldn’t stop my mouth from moving faster than my brain. “No Y/n, let me get this off my chest. I like you Y/n. Crazy, right? We’ve only been friends for like three months, but I’ve fallen completely head over heels for you. You know, the first time I went into CuTea with Changbin and Chan and saw you behind the counter with your cute little cap and apron, the first thought that came to my mind was ‘Wow, they’re beautiful.’ And ever since that day, I would come into CuTea every time the others went because I didn’t want to miss the chance to see you. Yes, the other two knew about my little ‘crush’ on you and tried to encourage me to say something to you that wasn’t my drink order, but I didn’t have the guts to do so because I knew you were out of my league. And then one night I came into the shop by myself after having a stressful week and I just wanted to hear your voice, even if it was for a minute, but I saw you in tears, and it broke me to see you like that. This might sound weird, but I’m thankful I saw you crying that night or else I wouldn’t have been able to talk to you. And talking to you makes my day, heck I was having the worse day yesterday, and decided to go to CuTea to see you, only to see Minho and then have that stupid conversation with him that has now landed me here.” After that long rant, I take a deep breath. I refuse to look at Y/n instead, I look up at the sky and focus my attention on the moon.

    “Are you done now?” After I nod my head they continue, “I know that you like me Jisung.” What. “I’ve known for the past two months.” Again, what. “You’re quite obvious.” At this point, I’ve twisted the swing so that I could face my whole body towards Y/n, and when I do, I see that they’ve already done the same and that they’re looking at me with those beautiful eyes.

    “I-“

    “Stop, I’m not done. I don’t like Minho anymore. I stopped liking him a month after him and Doyeon got together.” This was news was brand new to me. Y/n hasn’t really talked about her feelings for Minho as of lately, so I wasn’t sure how she felt, but I guess I know now. “I also like someone else now.” Oh. I’m pretty sure that cracking noise I just heard was my heart.

    “Oh, I see. Do I know them?” Why? Why do I like to put myself in pain?

    “Yeah, you know them really well.” Great, it was someone that I knew. Wait.

    “It’s not Changbin is it?” If it was Changbin, I think I would just cry and laugh at the same time.

    “Ew, yuck no, it’s not Changbin.” Good, Y/n is out of his league anyways.

    “Chan hyung?” Chan hyung made sense, he too was what every person wanted. I don’t think I could get mad at Y/n for liking him.

    Shaking their head no, they say, “It’s not him either.” If it wasn’t Chan or Changbin, then I wasn’t sure who Y/n could be talking about.

    “The person that I like is funny, outrageous, sincere, confident,” I couldn’t think of anyone that matched the description, “they also stuff their mouth with food like a chipmunk.” Oh, wait. It takes me a moment to process their words. Are they-are they talking about me?

    “Yes dummy I’m talking about you.” I think I need a moment. Y/n just said she liked me. Wait, “I need you to say it.” Y/n gives me a confused look. “I need you to say that you like me.” If they said it, then I can confirm that I’m not making this whole thing up.

    “Han Jisung, I like you.”

    “You like like me?”

    They roll their eyes at me, but still respond, “Yes Jisung, I like like you.”

    “Oh. That’s cool.” One second I’m sitting on the swing, and the next I’m on the ground. Y/n just pushed me. “Hey what was that for?”

    “What kind of response is that? ‘Oh. That’s cool.’ Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, happier?” Ah, I see where I went wrong. Getting up and dusting off the dirt, I stand in front of Y/n with my arms wide open. Hesitantly, they get up from the swing and wrap their arms around me. Giddily, I encase them in my arms and lift them up. I instantly fall in love with the squeal they let out.

    “Han Jisung put me down!”

    “No. It was a trap, and now that you’re in my arms, I’m never letting you go.” I give them a tight squeeze, causing for another squeal to escape from them.

    “But I thought you were going to teach me how to use a skateboard.” That’s right, I was. Gently putting them down, we make eye contact and I can’t help but look shyly away. They giggle because of my timidness, but I see them shiver due to a small gust of wind. Quickly I take off the hoodie I’m wearing and shove it towards them.

    “Here, take this.” They look at me unsure before taking it from me.

    “But what about you?”

    “Don’t worry about me, I got something else to keep me warm.” I wrap my arm around their shoulder, pulling them closer towards me.

    “I like shy Jisung more than I do bold Jisung.”

    “Well lucky for you, you can have both.”

    Yeah, today was definitely a better day than yesterday.

A/N: ah, sorry that it took so long for this to come out! 🥺the semester is coming closer to the end so it’s beginning to get hectic, but I've finally managed to get this out. I decided to do something different this time and wrote in Jisung’s POV. what did you guys think of it? also this came out a longer than I expected, but I really like how this turned out. like always, I appreciate any comments or feedback, so feel free to leave a message.

[writingletterstothefire]

right where you left me

A/N: So here it is, a full 3 days after I said I’d post it. Things have been pretty crappy, so I apologize if there was anyone out there who actually cared about this fic. The idea came to me while listening to right where you left me by Taylor Swift. I had this image of like, okay, we know about Lorraine, but what if there was someone back in Texas still waiting for Javi, after all this time? And from that thought, came this. it’s not beta-read in the slightest, so I’m so sorry if there’s any typos or sentences that don’t sound right. Thanks, y’all. Enjoy.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: maybe some language?? abandonment, Javier Peña

Prom night was supposed to be the best night of your high school career. And at first, it really felt like it might be. Your best friend Javier Peña was taking you, and you had picked the perfect dress. You and Javi were going as friends, but you really thought that this might finally be the night that you worked up the courage to tell him how you felt. You’d been dancing around each other for months, and tonight was the night that you’d finally take your friendship to a new level.

At 8pm sharp, there was a knock on your door. Javi was always right on time. You walked down the stairs slowly, like you’d seen girls do in movies, but Javi just smiled up at you and went, “Hey, you actually look like a human instead of a troll today!”

Needless to say, you weren’t exactly ecstatic at the start of the night. By the time you got to the prom, though, you had calmed down and reminded yourself that Javi was prone to sticking his foot in his mouth. He was probably just not used to seeing you dressed up.

“You alright, squirt?” Javi asked as he helped you out of his truck and started to lead you into the school. “You’ve been pretty quiet.”

“No, I’m fine!” You smiled up at him, determined to have a good night. “Ready to force you to dance with me all night.”

Javi laughed at that. “I’ll give you three dances, alright squirt?”

“Deal!” You beamed up at him. Javi’s heart skipped a beat, like it always did when you smiled at him like that.

In the end, you got four and a half dances out of him. He wasn’t happy about it, but he would do anything you asked him to.

After the prom, you both ended up at the diner you worked at part-time, sharing a milkshake and a plate of fries. That was when the bomb dropped.

“I’m leaving,” he suddenly blurted out, halfway through the milkshake.

“Oh, okay, I’ll go get us a box—” you started to offer helpfully.

“No, I…” he grabbed your hand to stop you getting up, “I, uh, I’m going to Quantico. After graduation.”

Quantico was a conversation that had been looming over the two of you for the last three months. Javi wanted to go, and he wanted you to go up to Virginia with him. He begged you to at least apply to the schools in the area. He needed his best friend.

You’d been denied financial aid from the schools that you applied to.You would be staying in Texas. Eventually, with his father’s health declining after catching a bad bit of pneumonia, it had started to look like Javi might be staying in Texas too. But Chucho ended up making a full recovery, and insisted Javi went to Quantico to advance his career.

It seemed he would be taking his father’s advice. He would be leaving you.

But, you realized, the way Javi was telling you, the way his eyes were pleading with you now… It was almost as if he was waiting for you to ask him not to go. Javi would do anything you asked him to. But you couldn’t ask him to give up his future.

“I’m happy for you, Javi,” you managed to get out, tears collecting in your eyes as you smiled. “You’ve worked so hard to get there, you’re going to be amazing.”

Javi looked almost heartbroken. He had been so sure that you were going to yell and scream at him, beg him to please just stay. Yet, here you were, encouraging him to do the one thing he simultaneously wanted more than anything and didn’t want at all.

He just nodded silently and waited for you to finish the milkshake before taking you back home. You had both been anxious on the ride home. You knew it was now or never, because he was leaving in a week. The problem was that you weren’t going with him. Could you do it, knowing you’d be giving him a taste of what would never be?

You didn’t have time to think too hard about it before Javi had your face in his hands and was planting the sweetest kiss on your lips.

Before you could stop yourself, you whispered, “But, you’re leaving…”

The both of you stayed frozen for a few moments, before the tears in your eyes spilled over and you were rushing inside. Javi didn’t chase you, even though he wanted to.

The two of you avoided each other at school the following Monday. And then, a week later, he left.

Five years passed without much more than a few phone calls and a handful of letters passed between the two of you. You both chose to ignore the way that prom night ended. You needed each other too much. Even if it was a distanced friendship now, you chalked it up to growing up. Of course you weren’t going to be best friends forever, and it was foolish of you to consider that the distance wouldn’t change things.

But then, Javi walked into the diner. The same diner where he told you he was leaving. The same diner you still worked at every night, noon to close.

You couldn’t stop yourself from running up to him and grabbing him in a tight hug. He hugged you back, of course, squeezing you tightly and murmuring sweet nothings into your ear about how much he missed you.

“Javi, what are you doing here?! You’re supposed to be working for the DEA!” You squeezed him tighter, despite questioning his presence.

“What, I can’t visit home every once in a while, squirt?” He smirked that trademark smirk of his. You finally pulled back, crossing your arms over your chest and quirking an eyebrow.

“We haven’t seen you here since Christmas four years ago. And even then, only your dad saw you because you were only here for a night.”

“Alright, alright, I get it, I need to visit more,” he grumbled. His energy shifted into a nervous one. “You know, I’m actually here to, uh, give you this. I wanted to give it to you in person.”

He pulled a small slip of paper from his jacket, and you felt the blood leaving your head. You’d seen so many of these in the past two years, but you supposed you were getting to that age now.

“I wanted you to hear it from me,” he said gently, “because you mean more to me than anything. There’s a plus-one, if you, uh, need it.”

His brow furrowed as he said it, as though he was upset at the idea of you having a plus-one, and you were so confused by his expression that you almost forgot to take the paper from him. The invitation. A wedding invitation. Javi, your Javi, was getting married. You could hear a pin drop in the silence of the diner, mostly empty now, save for a few tables quietly eating amongst themselves.

“Congratulations, oh my god,” you finally exclaimed, quickly hugging him quickly so that he wouldn’t see the tears threatening to overflow. You hoped you sounded excited enough to throw off suspicion.

The two of you caught up over a milkshake and a plate of fries, and for a moment you could almost forget that five years had passed. You could almost forget the wedding invitation burning a hole into your apron.

When he asked you about your relationships, you were embarrassed to tell the truth. But you did, because you couldn’t exactly lie to Javi. He was still your best friend, distance and time spent away aside. You told him the truth, that none of the guys you met were the right fit. It was hard to find a good guy in this small town, you had jested. It was true. The best one had left.

Eventually, Javi left with a slip of, “Lorraine’s waiting for me—,” and you cut him off with a pained smile and a, “It’s fine, no it’s totally fine, I have to finish my shift anyways!”

In the end, you couldn’t make yourself go to the wedding. You picked up an extra shift that night, and focused on polishing each piece of silverware until it sparkled.

You’d learn two days later that Javi left her at the altar. Well, that is to say, he never even made it to the altar. He didn’t arrive to the church at all. He simply turned around, and booked a flight back to Quantico, tux and all. He was on the first plane out.

You didn’t know if you wanted to slap him or kiss him. You figured that it didn’t matter. You’d never get the chance to do either one.

———————————————————————

Ten years passed after that. You saw Javi at some Christmases, and you were sure to give him hell for leaving a woman at the altar, but for the better half of ten years, you didn’t see him. When he went down to Columbia, he didn’t come home for holidays. He didn’t want to bring any trouble back up to Texas. It was understandable, but your heart ached every day.

You tried to move on. You’d been trying for fifteen years. But, if you were honest with yourself, there was just no one for you like Javi. No one could compare to him.

You were still working at the diner, but you’d been promoted. The old owner, when he passed away, left the entire thing in your name. He requested that his estate pay off the rest of the mortgage and overdue bills, and you were gifted the diner, completely debt free. You refused to just accept the free money, though. Along with your new duties as the owner, you still worked at the diner five nights per week. If you were honest with yourself, you didn’t really have anything else to do. Your cat had food and water, your plants were watered in the morning, and you didn’t have anyone waiting for you at home. So, every night you helped serve tables, run food, and even bus if it was busy enough. You were happy to work. It kept your mind off of how lonely you were.

You were working on closing up one cold, rainy night, when you heard the door open. You never got any patrons after 11pm, so you immediately grew suspicious. You subtly reached for the baseball bat you kept behind the counter.

“We’re closing up, can I help—,” you froze. Javi was standing in the diner soaking wet and shivering. “Oh my god, Javi?”

“H-Hey squirt,” he managed to get out through his chattering teeth.

You hurried over to him, shoving his jean jacket off his shoulders. “You’re going to make yourself sick in these wet clothes! Come on, I’ve got some stuff in the employee lost and found that might work.”

You quickly locked up the front and ushered a shaking Javi to the back room, shoving the first clothes you found that might fit him into his arms. He started stripping his shirt off before you could turn around, and you felt yourself going bright red. After an embarrassingly long moment of you being frozen in shock, you managed to spin around and hurry out to the front with a, “I’m gonna make you something warm to drink!”

Your shaky hands somehow threw two mugs of tea together, and you set them on a table just as Javi came out of the back dressed in oversized sweats and a tie dye hoodie. You offered a small smile and sat at the booth, before realizing it was the booth that you’d sat at together so many times. This was the booth that you’d sat at the night he told you he was leaving. And the night he’d invited you to his wedding.

He sat at the other side of the booth, his ears a bit pink as he bashfully avoided your eyes.

“T-Thanks for the clothes. I don’t know why I didn’t grab an umbrella as I left,” he ducked his head.

You just gently pushed the mug of tea closer to him. “So, what brings you here? What did I do to be graced with your presence on this fine night?”

You didn’t mean for it to come out sounding so snarky, but you saw Javi flinch at your words. His hands wrapped around the warm mug as he stared into the tea.

“I’m, uh… I’m back from Columbia. For good.”

That wasn’t what you’d expected. In your surprised state, you took a moment to examine Javi. This Javi was rugged and worn out. He had permanent bags under his eyes, worry lines in his forehead, a thick, prominent mustache on his lip where there used to be only peach fuzz. His shoulders were hunched over and tense, as if he was carrying the weight of the world on them. And he was, you realized.

The man in front of you was not the boy you graduated high school with. He wasn’t even the man who left his wife at the altar. This man was seasoned and hard, well aware of the darkest horrors that the world possessed.

“What happened down there, Javi?” You had to ask. You knew from the way his jaw clenched that he didn’t want to talk about it, but you also knew that if he didn’t talk about it with you, then there was no one else who stood a chance.

And so, he told you. He recounted his struggles finding Escobar, and then Escobar’s escape. He told you about Escobar’s death, and then the rise of the Calí cartel. The things he’d thought he had to do for the cause. The things he would never repeat to anyone else for years to come. The nightmares that plagued his mind every night. And you listened to him. You didn’t interrupt, except to reach across the table and grab his hand, squeezing tightly every so often to remind him that you were here.You’d always be here, and you both knew that. Javi left and came back and then left again, and you stayed planted to the spot he left you in, waiting patiently for him to come back.

Javi finally finished recounting the stories from Columbia around two in the morning. You’d sat there, holding hands across the table for nearly three hours. You knew, in your heart, that it was time to tell Javi. If he accepted you, you’d go from there. If he rejected you, it was time to move on and try to find some semblance of happiness while you still had time.

“Javi, I—”

“I love you, squirt.”

You must have been looking at him like he’d just told you he was growing a third leg, because he burst out laughing. You couldn’t form a coherent thought. All that came out was a broken, “W-What?”

Javi just tilted his head at you. “Well… you can’t be all that surprised, can you? After all this time, you don’t know?”

“Javi… Javi, we’ve been friends for thirty years, but I’ve barely seen you for half of them. You were… You almost got married, Javi! To someone who wasn’t me! And you have the nerve to say I can’t be all that surprised?!” You knew the volume of your voice had risen substantially, but you didn’t care. He had no right to come into your diner and act like, after fifteen years, he had any right to spring this on you.

“Squirt, I…” Javi sighed, getting up and coming around to your side of the table. He sat next to you and picked up your hands, clasping them tightly in his own. “I messed up. I know. I thought you were better off without me, that you were going to go on to do bigger and better things, and you have, but I… I’m going to be selfish, squirt, for one more time. I’m going to be selfish and tell you that I love you, and I need you. With Lorraine… I proposed because she expected it. We didn’t even really get along that well. A month after I proposed…,” his head dropped, ashamed as he spoke his next words, “I said your name in bed.”

If you hadn’t already been frozen to your seat with shock, you’re sure you would’ve fallen over.

“I know it was unfair to her. I wish I’d never asked her to marry me. I should have come back for you, told you how much I loved you and how much I needed you. You’ve been so patient with me, I know you have. You’ve been nothing but amazing, even when I was a shitty friend to you. I wanted you to come to Quantico with me, and when you couldn’t, I thought… I thought that it was the universe telling me that it wouldn’t work. But fuck the universe. I am so sorry that I ever left you, squirt. I love you. And, if you’ll have me, I want to be with you. I want to marry you, if you’ll let me.” He kissed the backs of your hands.

You stayed frozen for a moment. You knew that none of this was easy for Javi. Admitting his true feelings, owning up to his mistakes, apologizing. He was coming to you, with his heart on his sleeve, and begging you not to turn him away. And how could you, if you were honest? You’d stayed in this state, in this town, in this diner, all for him. You told yourself it was just stability and familiarity that kept you there, but deep down you had always known that you were waiting for Javi. Staying put, right where he left you, just in case he ever decided to come back. And here he was, asking you to love him.

“Javi, I love you, too.”

You’d never seen Javier cry. The day he left, he came close. When his arms wrapped around you, you’d felt him shudder, just once. When you pulled back, his eyes stayed averted, and he didn’t look at you again. Except when he left, about to board his flight, and his eyes were just a tad shinier than usual.

Now, Javi allowed full tears to stream down his cheeks, as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him. He spoke no words, he just held you. He never truly thought that he would get to.

You slowly pulled back, reaching up to cup his cheeks and wipe away his tears. “I love you, Javi. And I… I’ll marry you, one day. Let’s see how this goes? I don’t want to spook you by us moving too fast, I can’t lose you.”

Javi shook his head frantically. “No, you’ll never lose me. I’m never leaving you again, I was a fool to have left for all these years.”

You wiped at his cheeks one more time, before leaning up to kiss him. And he kissed you back.

You supposed that, if you finally got to have him, then all of the pain you went through while he was gone was worth it. Your waiting hadn’t been for nothing, you finally had your Javi. He was holding you, right here, right now, in the same place he’d left you. Only, this time, he was here to stay. He was here with you.

[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

Paint My Spirit Gold

Dukeceit Week Day 2: Green/Yellow

Fans of the YouTubers "Deceit" and Remus "The Duke" Sanders start to suspect that maybe, just maybe, the two of them are more than simple internet pals.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 2187

Warnings: n/a

@dukeceitweek <3

-

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a watercolor-style painting of a snake. The snake appears to be made of melting chocolate, and there is a large bite taken out of its tail. Cherries and jam are leaking out of the snake at the bite wound. The snake's expression of horror is overly-exaggerated to the point of comedy. The caption reads: "liked your snake boi, @SerpenThyme. thanks for the inspo." /end ID]

- 

A notification ding cut Janus off mid-sentence. 

“Wow, someone left their cell phone on, so professional,” he said, giving the camera a dramatic eye roll. That someone was him, of course, because he was the only one in the apartment- just him and the running livestream- but that was no excuse not to be a drama queen about it. He finished wiping flour off his hands and grabbed his phone to silence it; but the notification made him pause. He flicked his eyes up toward the camera and gave a slight smirk.

“My goodness, I’m famous,” he drawled. “The Duke himself has graced little old me with some fan art.”

Most of the comments in the chat wanted him to show it, so Janus opened up Twitter to see the full post he’d been tagged in. It was a watercolor painting of the coiled-snake chocolate sculpture- lovingly named Jake by his viewers- he’d made for his YouTube video last week; it was wearing an expression of such comedic horror that Janus had to stifle a laugh. He flicked his phone screen toward the close-up camera on his counter so his viewers could see.

“How kind of you, Remus,” he said. “All of you should go scold him for what he’s done to poor Jake here.”

Most of his viewers would know he was joking- after all, they were the ones to nickname him Deceit when he provided neither a real or fake name for his online persona. They knew full well what he was like by now.

The oven timer dinged. Janus silenced his phone and set it aside.

“And our first batch of cookies is done. You know, why don’t we show the Duke some appreciation?”

-

[ID: An Instagram post by user @SerpenThyme. The photo is an artistically-framed shot of a stack of sugar cookies with green, yellow, and pink icing. Propped up against the stack is another cookie, with an intricate icing-drawing of an octopus. The photo appears to have been color corrected to have high contrast, low saturation, and a dark vignette at the edges. The Instagram user @OctoDukie is tagged. No caption. /end ID]

- 

“You know, I have often been accused of actually being a little old lady, what with my fondness for knitted jumpers, rocking chairs, and incredibly fucked up murder mystery books. Today I am doing nothing to dispel this accusation, by making soup.”

The studio was dark and empty aside from Remus' workspace. Everyone else had left long ago, even his own brother, which meant that it was officially ass-o'clock in the morning (or, as most people called it, somewhere between 1 and 2 a.m.) But Remus was stuck in hyperfocus, honed in on putting the last touches on a commission that he'd been putting off for weeks. It's not that it was a tough painting- once he'd gotten started, it was actually a very creatively satisfying piece- but man, executive dysfunction could go suck a dick

“French onion soup, specifically. Because while I do like to pretend I am a classy bitch, I am also, regrettably, a lazy bitch with a distaste for anything that takes longer than one bottle of wine to make.”

Remus hated working in silence. It was stifling, almost suffocating. His brain needed noise like his lungs needed air. So when the studio had grown still and silent, Remus had flipped open his laptop and queued up some YouTube videos. 

“So we have here three pounds of onions that we need to slice up, pole to pole. You’re going to cry no matter what, so if you have any memories you’ve been repressing since middle school, now is an excellent time to dredge those up.” 

And if it happened to be 90% SerpenThyme videos, well. Sue him. 

“Now the first rule of caramelizing onions: fast and sloppy is always better than slow and thorough… at least, that’s what every man I’ve ever slept with tells me.”

Remus choked and glanced over to his laptop screen just in time to catch Deceit's trademark smirk directed at the audience just for a moment. It was the deadpan delivery that always got him. Remus could barely hold onto a joke long enough to get through it without cackling mid-punchline, but this fucker could say the funniest shit like an off-hand comment. 

He wiped his hands off on his jeans (what use were clothes if you couldn't use them as paint rags?) and pulled his laptop across the table.  He typed out a quick comment, citing the timestamp of the joke, and after it was posted, he shut his laptop. 

'Cause ass-o'clock was short for "get-your-ass-home-or-I’ll-kick-it" o'clock. 

-

[ID: A screenshot of a YouTube comments section. The first comment is by user TheDuke, and reads: "10:42 wow, rude." The second comment is a reply by user SerpenThyme, and simply reads ";)" /end ID]

-

Janus plopped down on the couch with a slight groan. He didn’t need to stream today, but he really hated missing days. Besides… he was fine. Really. 

He adjusted the camera until he was happy with the framing, and then checked the settings on his streaming software. Satisfied, he started the stream, and watched as his usual viewers rolled in. 

“What do you mean I’m not in my kitchen?” Janus drawled, addressing the chat. He glanced around with an expression of faux-shock on his face. “My goodness, when did that happen?”

He chuckled, and then gestured to his surroundings. “Yes, we are in my living room today. If you must know, my closest and most trusted friend tried to murder me today- yes, Virgil, it was attempted murder and nothing less- and I survived with nary a scratch… and a broken foot, but that is beside the point. Anyway, I’m not allowed to stand for long periods of time, and I may or may not be somewhat inebriated by pain pills and couldn’t stand even if I wanted to. So we are cooking from my couch today.”

Janus paused for a few moments to read the chat messages as they popped up. A few get well soon’s, a few theories about the “attempted murder,” Virgil- who moderated his chat for him- vehemently denying the “attempted murder” but otherwise refusing to clarify the event, and a large volume of wtf why are you streaming today, take care of yourself comments, which made him smile. But one particular comment caught his eye, almost lost amid the torrent of an active chat: wait this kinda looks like the Duke’s living room?

“Oh, VampSuga,” he said, addressing that commenter in particular with a slight smirk. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, since I can’t reach my oven from here, I thought some no-bake cookies were in order. For these you will need-”

-

[ID: A screenshot of a Discord conversation. The text reads:

“VampSuga: Ok ok hear me out. Dukeceit. 

Starstruck96: who?

IneffableSnek: lmao

FeralBeauYasha: lol

VampSuga: Deceit and Remus Sanders! They’re totally dating. I will die on this hill. 

FeralBeauYasha: Isn’t the duke w/ PatPat?

IneffableSnek: no thats his brothers bf

FeralBeauYasha: ohh

VampSuga: Did anyone see Deceit’s stream today? I swear that’s the Duke’s livingroom. 

StarStruck96: idk that seems like a stretch

IneffableSnek: no wait i kno what u mean

IneffableSnek: im watching the duke’s old videos and that one where he shows off all his old weapons he’s in a living room kinda like deceit’s 

FeralBeauYasha: They were acting all cute on twitter too

VampSuga: DUKECEIT”  /end ID]

-

"Hey guys, been a while since you've seen my face and not just whatever my hands are busy with, when it's within YouTube's terms and conditions I mean. They used to be way more lenient…" Remus trailed off for a moment, then shook his head sharply and plastered on a grin. 

"Anyway! In June me and a few other creators did a fundraiser for the Trevor Project, and y'all smashed the goal, so I let you decide what video I'd make this month." He paused, and gestured to the mountain of clothes piled behind him on the bed. "And you had so many juicy ideas to choose from, but you decided to dress me up like a Barbie instead."

Remus paused to scroll through his phone for a few moments. "Ah, ok, here we go. Twitter user YoonIsMyCat- oh, BTS, nice- sent in this first outfit. Uh… future Remus, put up the post here somewhere." He gestured vaguely to his right. "Y'all went with either a fuckton more clothes or a fuckton less clothes, which I respect. Apparently this outfit is called…” He squinted at his phone. “Amish chic? I take it back, no respect at all.”

Remus cycled through the outfits his viewers sent in, which ranged from the aforementioned “Amish chic” to “2008 rave attire” to “ok now you guys are just fucking with me” (which consisted of one of those big puffy snow coats, lime green in color; booty shorts with the shrug text emoji across the ass; fuzzy pink boots; and a yellow cowboy hat to top off the whole thing. It was awful. Remus loved it.) The mountain of clothes on the bed gradually became a mess of clothes spread across the floor instead, until there was just one outfit left. 

“Ok so Twitter user VampSuga sent me this outfit that I’m gonna call ‘sexy librarian.’ I couldn’t find this exact sweater online, but-” he paused for dramatic effect, before brandishing a sweater toward the camera like a bullfighter. “My boyfriend had something that was close enough.”

Remus hopped up from the bed and switched off the camera so he could change.

“They’re going to lose their minds,” a voice drawled from the doorway. Remus threw his shirt at him.

“Shoo, I’m getting naked.”

-

[ID: A Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a selfie of YouTuber Remus “The Duke” Sanders, a Hispanic man with his hair dyed green and styled into a spiked mohawk. He is wearing a yellow knitted cardigan over a black button-up shirt. He is grinning widely at the camera. The caption reads: “my viewers pick my outfits! now live on youtube. go see what i look like as a sexy librarian!” /end ID]

-

DukeceitStan

first and only dukeceit shipper ig

DukeceitStan

wow there’s so many of you now! Hi!!

DukeceitStan

i want this to be canon so bad omg

DukeceitStan

i mean just look

[image]

how 

[image]

cute

[image]

[ID: A series of three gifs featuring Youtubers SerpenThyme, aka Deceit, and TheDuke, aka Remus Sanders. Deceit is a black man with long, dreadlocked hair, and vitiligo patches along the left side of his face. Remus is a Hispanic man with green-dyed hair styled into a mohawk, many ear and facial piercings, and tattoos covering both arms. Each gif is edited so that the highlights are tinged yellow when Deceit is seen, and tinged green when Remus is seen.

The first gif depicts a close-up shot of Deceit’s hands as he carefully decorates a cookie with green and yellow icing. The cookie art he is working on appears to be a half-finished octopus. The gif then fades into a mid-shot of Remus, with his back to the camera, facing a canvas. The canvas is blank, and Remus appears to be laying out paints on a table to his left. 

The second gif depicts Deceit seated at his couch, facing the camera. He has many ingredients spread across his coffee table (including oats, cocoa powder, and butter) and appears to be in the process of laying out several more. The gif fades to show Remus seated at a similar couch with a similar coffee table in front of him. The camera is angled slightly downward to better show the myriad of knives spread out across the table. Remus is gesturing wildly with a morning star held in his hand. 

The third gif depicts Deceit in his kitchen. He is pulling on a bright, yellow knitted cardigan, and smirking toward the camera. The gif fades to show Remus in his bedroom, seated on his bed. He is holding up a similar-looking cardigan toward the camera and grinning. /end ID]

- 

“Remus, it’s almost two in the morning. Come to bed.”

“I’m coming, sorry. Twitter distracted me.”

“Mm. I can’t believe the bird app is more distracting than I am.”

“You should try harder.”

“Come to bed and maybe I will.”

“Ok, ok, I’m coming. Hang on though, is it cool if I post this?”

“Sure. They figured it out anyway.”

“Sweet. Ok, Jannie, I’m coming.”

-

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It reads: “Dukeceit is canon.” /end ID] 

[jamesmydeer]

Please Don’t Swear x Sirius Black

notes: goodness it’s been a while. i’m beyond sorry for my absence. i feel like since it’s been so long since i’ve written, this may be a little wonky. please let me know if you liked it! thank you so much for reading!

word count: 1.8k

warnings: swearing :/

masterlist

Growing up in the wizarding world, the subject of magic was hard to avoid. Every child grew up on the stories of their parents’ times at Hogwarts, learning spells and having fun. They didn’t have to question what the words on their wrists meant, they learned the meaning before they could formulate coherent sentences.

Y/n L/n grew up in a completely different environment. She had been taught from a young age that magic was not real, and it was silly to believe so. She couldn’t explain the weird things that happened to her, all she knew was that it wasn’t normal. The most alarming thing was the three words written on her wrist.

She knew it was vulgar. For as long as she could remember, her parents had done their best to cover them up. She wore long sleeves year round, bandaids over the writing, anything to make sure no one knew that spelled out on her wrist were the words “What the fuck?”

It was almost comical; at first glance it seemed so pretty. The writing was a lot more elegant than the wording. Maybe if it was on someone else she would think it was hilarious. But it wasn’t.

Y/n was eleven when she received the letter that explained everything. She was a witch. Everything made so much sense once she figured out that she had magical powers that she had yet to learn how to control. Well, almost everything. She would later learn that the words on her wrist were the first words her soulmate would say to her.

Soulmate.

———————————————————————

Sirius Black hated the three words that displayed across his wrist. He was bossed around by his family enough, he didn’t need his soulmate for that. “Please don’t swear.” Yeah right.

His mother would use the words to her advantage as much as she could. Whenever he would do something she didn’t agree with, she would simply inform him that ‘your soulmate wouldn’t be pleased.’ Sirius hated it more than anything.

So, after arriving at Hogwarts, Sirius decided that he didn’t care about soulmates. He would date who he wanted to date and not acknowledge the twinge of disappointment he wasn’t scolded by a girl upon speaking to her.

———————————————————————

“You know, you’re never going to get anywhere dating around Padfoot,” James scolded Sirius, who had just returned from Godric knows where.

“Yeah, cause having a soulmate has really worked out for you, mate,” Sirius jokes.

“Hey! I’ll have you know that Lily and I will one day be-”

“the happiest couple in the whole world,” the three marauders cut him off, having heard the statement too many times to count.

“Yeah, we know Prongs.”

“Say, if James knows his soulmate, and she can’t even stand to be around him, I can only imagine how much yours hates you, Pads,” Peter laughed, earning him two swift slaps to the back of the head. He quickly turned around and hit them both in the arm. Before the trio could start a wrestling match, Remus cut them off.

“You know, he’s right.”

“Hey,” James muttered.

“No, not Wormtail. You, you git. Pads, if you don’t at least try to find your soulmate, you’re never gonna be happy,” Remus warmed him.

“Exactly, do you want to spend your future wondering what could have been if you weren’t such a tool?” James teased, once again starting up a wrestling match.

Remus rolled his eyes and returned to his magazine. “You know, you should look for her tonight at the party.”

“Yeah right, as if I, Sirius Orion Black, want to spend an entire party looking for some chick.”

“You know Moony, I think he’s chicken,” James said, proceeding to cluck at Sirius. Peter joined in.

“Real mature you guys,” Sirius deadpanned. They continued clucking. “Cut it out,” he warned, growing more annoyed. As the clucking grew louder, and the flapping arm movements became more exaggerated , Sirius caved. “Fine!”

James and Peter cheered, high fiving each other. Remus smirked down at his magazine, knowing that his plan had worked. Sirius glared at him.

“You know, you’re too smart for your own good,” Sirius whined, aggravated that Remus knew this exact thing would happen.

“What can I say, you lot are predictable.”

“Piss off!” Sirius retorted, turning towards the door to walk away.

“Please don’t swear,” James and Peter laughed, earning a crude hand gesture from Sirius, followed by the slamming of the door.

———————————————————————

Y/n and Lily sat in the library, quietly bickering back and forth across the table.

“How come whenever you ask me to study with you, we never study?” Y/n asked, annoyed with Lily’s inability to be quiet.

“Oh come on, it’s one little party. Please don’t make me go alone.”

“No way Lily. You remember what happened last time?” Y/n whined, hoping Lily would soon drop it.

“That was one time! And Marlene didn’t mean to spill her drink on you. She said sorry like a hundred times!” Lily retorted, trying her hardest to convince her friend.

“Yeah, well sorry didn’t dry my clothes off.”

“Oh pretty please. I really want you to meet my friends. You and Remus would get on really well.”

“Is it because James is going to be there?” Y/n teased, looking back down at her book. When Lily stayed quiet instead of defending herself, Y/n’s head shot up. When she noticed Lily’s blush, she knew that she had to go for her friend.

“Fine, I’ll go lover girl.”

“Thank you so much. You know, you might even find–”

“Yeah yeah, now shut up. You dragged me here to study, now study!”

———————————————————————

The Gryffindor common room was a lot louder than usual. Y/n had been there a total of thirty minutes and was already ready to leave. She glanced at Lily to make sure she wouldn’t notice, and saw her talking with James. She smiled, partly because she was happy for the pair and partly because she knew she could leave undetected.

As a fifth year threw up in the corner, she glanced down at her butterbeer, suddenly disgusted by the beverage. She decided that she would set the butterbeer on the closest table and make a beeline for the door.

Looking over her shoulder to make sure Lily hadn’t spotted her, she collided with another body, and her drink went all over them.

“What the fuck?” Sirius yelled, surprised at the sudden coldness and angry about the uncomfortable wetness.

Y/n, trying not to make a scene that would alert Lily of her absence, frantically scolded the person in front of her.

“Please don’t swear.”

She looked up and was met with the eyes of Sirius Black. She felt very small under his glare, which she guessed she deserved, having spilled her cold beverage all over his front.

“I’m really sorry, I’ll go get you some paper towels,” she spoke shyly, turning to grab something to dry him off with when she felt a hand wrap around her wrist.

“What did you say?” he asked, a mix of shock and anger on his face.

“Um, that I was going to go get some paper towels…” Y/n responded, coming out as more of a question. She always thought the Black boy was a bit curious.

“No, before that,” he shook his head, rolling her sleeve up. Y/n went to jerk her arm back, but Sirius let it go before she could attempt to.

That’s when she realized what was going on. Sirius Black, notorious bad boy, was her soul mate. Of all people.

“It’s you?” she gasped, beyond shocked.

“Don’t act so surprised, princess. You know, you ruined my life!” he progressively got louder, let all of his bottled up feelings towards the whole soulmate situation finally spill.

At this point everyone at the party was silently watching the argument unfold.

“Me! Me? Do you have any idea how hard it is to have a curse word on your wrist?” she yelled back, growing angrier the more she looked at him.

“Just say fuck!”

“I most certainly will not!”

“You know, we’ve barely said ten words to each other and I already can’t stand you.”

“Well I’ve never been able to stand you! You–”

Y/n continued to talk, but Sirius tunes her out, focusing instead on her eyes. He thought they were very pretty. The light of the common room reflected in them, and he wondered what they looked like if they were filled with joy and not anger.

He moved from there to her hair, which he thought complimented her face perfectly. He found himself wanting to reach up and move the hair that had fallen in front of your face behind your ear.

Sirius’ moment of infatuated bliss was cut off by a snap in front of his eyes.

“Are you even listening to me?” she thought she would never be angrier than she was at this moment.

It was then that Sirius noticed all the eyes watching their altercation. He grabbed her hand again, despite her protests, and ushered her into the hallway.

“Sirius Black I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but–”

“You’re really pretty,” Sirius smiles down at her, blushing under her bewildered gaze.

“Excuse me?” Y/n was left even more confused than she was before.

Sirius chuckled, reaching his hand up to cup her face. “You’re really pretty,” he reiterated.

Y/n blushed and averted her eyes downwards to her shoes. She didn’t know what to think, but she knew she liked the feeling of his hand on her cheek.

“I don’t hate you,” she spoke softly, looking up at the boy who chuckled softly.

“I don’t hate you either,” Sirius started, leaning in closer. “You’re far too beautiful to hate.”

Y/n smiled as Sirius connected his lips to hers. Both of their grins caused the kiss to be a tad bit awkward, but just about everything about the couple had been up to that point.

Sirius pulled away and placed his forehead against hers. He placed a soft kiss on her nose, which she responded to by scrunching it up. In that moment, Sirius felt like his legs might give out. As he leaned back in, they were interrupted by two very distinct giggles.

They turned around to see James and Lily hand in hand, both with sheepish grins on their face.

“Looks like this hallways is taken,” James spoke, avoiding Sirius’ knowing glance. He grabbed Lily’s hand and pulled her back down the hallway, looking forward to filling Sirius in later.

“Do you think they?”

“Oh for sure,” Sirius nodded, grabbing her hand and leading her back towards her common room.

“Let me walk you?”

“Lead the way,” she smiled, resting his head on his arm and smiling.

Maybe the years of embarrassment would be worth it. Looking up at Sirius, she figured they had to have been.

[organabanana]

leaves of three, let it be [2/3] || harlivy

Chapters: 2/3

Fandom:  DCU (Comics)DCUHarley Quinn (Comics)Harley Quinn (Cartoon 2019)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence

Relationships: Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel

Characters: Pamela Isley, Harleen Quinzel, Selina Kyle

Additional Tags: Mentions of alcohol, mentions of batman fucking bats, most of this is straight up idiocy tbh, i just finished watching the cartoon so everyone swears like a sailor i’m sorry, rated for (ahem) happenings later on, ivy/harley/catwoman frenemies

Summary

After Harley mistakenly confesses her love and then promptly takes it back, Ivy spends some time sorting through the things she absolutely doesn't feel (and the ones she does). Selina and Harley don't quite help.

Chapter 1: Tumblr | AO3

Chapter 2: AO3

If you ever asked Poison Ivy if she’s into meditation, she’d say she isn’t.

Actually, if you ever asked Poison Ivy if she’s into meditation, she’d probably stare you down until you crumbled under the sheer weight of her judgment and apologized for ever talking to her, but that’s beside the point.

The point is, Ivy doesn’t meditate. The concept of meditation, if you ask her, goes in the same patchouli-scented box as moon-charged crystals and essential oils.

No. What Ivy does is… introspection. Yeah. She introspects. She consciously clears her mind of all intrusive thoughts. Which may sound a lot like meditation, maybe? But — she cannot stress this enough — it’s not the same thing.

So there she is. Sitting on her couch. Introspecting. And it may look like she’s staring off into the distance, but she’s actually looking at a nearly invisible, tiny little hint of a green sprout that’s managed to grow in a crack on the windowsill.

There it is. A tiny little fighter. Just like—

Nope.

No way.

We are absolutely not thinking about her. We’re introspecting. So Ivy takes in a deep breath, in through her nose, eyes fluttering closed as she exhales slowly and then opens them and tries again.

As she was saying. A tiny little sprout. She could go over there and touch it and quite literally breathe life into it. She can’t tell what kind of plant it is, but she could make it bloom if it’s a flowering species. What if it’s a tree? She could make it grow so big its roots would tear this whole building apart just like her heart was torn apart last ni—

Motherf—

“Morning, my little dill pickle.”

Selina climbs in through the window, practically gliding into Ivy’s apartment with the kind of grace that would normally make Ivy stop and stare and perhaps have a not-quite-respectful thought or two.

Listen: she has eyes. Don’t read into it.

Anyway. As graceful and ridiculously nimble as Selina is, she’s also way up high in Ivy’s shit list at the moment (second only to you know who), so today is not the day for lighthearted conversation and platonic crushes.

“Fuck you, Selina,” Ivy offers as a greeting, glancing at the plant to make sure it’s still there. And it is, of course. Selina fucking Kyle may be a bitch and a half, but she knows how to move without leaving a trace.

“Now?” Selina cocks one perfectly manicured eyebrow at Ivy, the slightest hint of a teasing smirk on her face. “I mean I was gonna offer brunch, but that doesn’t sound like the worst midday plan.”

Ivy simply stares for a moment, as if she’s forgotten if there’s one person in the world that’s absolutely immune to even her most wilting looks, that’s Selina fucking Kyle.

“Oh, come on,” Selina practically groans, “stop it. Brooding is such a teen boy move.”

“I am not brooding.”

“Right.” With one single word, Selina makes it clear that she doesn’t believe Ivy and, most importantly, that she doesn’t care enough to argue. “Anyway. Brunch? My treat.”

Ivy closes her eyes. Not meditating. Just introspecting. Just trying to channel the urge to make a full-grown sequoia grow out of Selina Kyle’s ass into something productive. One deep breath in through her nose and—

“We can have margaritas!” Selina lets out a quiet chuckle as she admires the perfectly matte black polish on her fingernails. “Yikes. Too soon?”

Fuck introspection.

“I. Am going. To fucking murder you.” Ivy stands up with every intention to make good on that promise, and Selina must read it in her eyes because for the first time since Ivy’s known her — for the first time in her life, maybe — Selina looks scared.

Well, maybe not scared.

But she is absolutely concerned.

“Fuck me, Ive, damn,” Selina takes one step back, no longer smirking, “calm down, will you?”

Ivy stops, Selina’s audacity basically jolting her out of her murderous rage. “Calm down, Selina? Fucking seriously? You did what you did and now you come here and tell me to fucking calm down?”

Selina tilts her head just so, like she’s conceding (against her will) that maybe there is a reason for Ivy to be somewhat upset with her.

“Oh, come on,” she sighs, rolling her shoulders like the tension has to leave her body somehow, and it will certainly not be via an apology, “it wasn’t even real poison.”

Ivy’s eyes widen slightly in disbelief. Does Selina think she’s mad because she thinks Harley was in actual danger?

No. No, Selina can’t think that, because Selina may be an asshole, but she’s a very smart asshole. So she must know Ivy’s well aware of Harley’s immunity to toxins. She must know that’s not even remotely the reason Ivy’s spent the last eleven hours and some change introspecting all thoughts of last night out of her mind.

For a split second, Ivy feels something similar to warmth towards Selina as she considers that maybe she’s simply ignoring the embarrassing part of the event to spare Ivy. Maybe she’s pretending this is about Harley’s physical wellbeing and not… well. The other thing.

Sadly, the split second passes.

“If it helps,” Selina says, and even before she finishes the sentence Ivy can already sense it won’t help at all, “it’s totally reciprocated.”

Ivy feels it crawling up her veins, thick like sap. She’s managed to distill plenty of emotions, turned them into tonics and toxins and elixirs and used them for her own benefit and the Green’s. She’s bottled love — well, lust — and hatred and rage. Fear, even. Insanity, ironically enough. But this.

This… this humiliation.

Oh, this is something else.

Ivy closes her eyes. In through her nose, and even the air feels like it has to go through that thick mixture of (public) pain and weakness and acknowledged vulnerability to get to her lungs.

It’s one thing to have Harley see her like this. Like that. Like last night. Defenses down and heart out there in the open like her ribcage’s forgotten its purpose. That’s fine, she figures, because it’s been the norm for years and years and years. It’s nothing new, really, to have Harley see her accidentally stumble over the line into pathetic from time to time. It happens.

But Selina.

Selina fucking Kyle.

Selina saw that and she understood what she was seeing and now she’s acknowledging it, and Ivy isn’t even mad anymore.

I mean, she is. She’s really fucking mad.

She’s just many other things as well as mad, so it’s harder to focus on it.

Out through her mouth. Slowly. And her voice is nice and even when she opens her eyes and looks at Selina once again.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ivy lies, walking towards the kitchen like that had been her intention all along, “there is nothing to reciprocate.”

Ivy can feel Selina’s look on the back of her head. She’s not going to give her the satisfaction of turning around, of course. Selina Kyle’s ego is healthy enough as it is. But she can absolutely feel it. A look involving an arched eyebrow and narrowed eyes and possibly a smirk. Maybe the slightest purse of painted lips, if she’s going for judgmental rather than smug.

Selina is multi-faceted in her scorn.

“You have got to be shitting me, Ive,” Selina says, and Ivy still refuses to turn around, focusing instead on staring at the interior of her fridge and ignoring the fact that ninety percent of its contents are there for Harley’s all-day snacking needs.

She ends up grabbing a jug of water not because she’s thirsty, but simply because it’s the only thing in there she knows for a fact is there just for her.

“Seriously?” Selina prods, walking closer and crossing her arms over her chest as she watches Ivy methodically fill a glass of water like it’s a delicate operation that requires her undivided attention. “You’re such a fucking pussy. And I don’t mean that as a compliment.”

Ivy does turn around then, gripping the glass with perhaps a little more force than strictly necessary. In her defense, she’d much rather be gripping Selina’s neck instead.

“Once again, Selina,” she says with a slight shrug, taking a sip of cold water, “no idea what you’re talking about.”

Selina gapes at her. It’s kind of flattering, actually. It’s not every day something leaves Selina Kyle fully unable to speak. Maybe — Ivy thinks to herself, enjoying her water — she’ll never speak again. Maybe she’ll leave Gotham entirely. Wouldn’t that be just—

Ivy’s train of thought is completely derailed by something that is never a good sign: Selina Kyle is laughing.

Not chuckling. Not snickering. Not letting out one of those sarcastic giggles she likes to use to obliterate people’s entire self-esteem.

No. No, this is honest to goodness, full-on belly laughter, and it’s fucking terrifying.

“Wh— what the fuck, Selina?” Ivy asks, trying to sound less scared than she actually is. Selina’s sense of humor is not so much dark as it is downright fucked up, and if she’s finding something in this situation funny, it can only mean someone is about to get crushed, metaphorically or otherwise.

All signs point to Ivy.

“Look at you!” Selina points in the general direction of Ivy, like she’s about to rip her fashion sense to shreds. But this, sadly, has nothing to do with clothes. “Holy shit, you’re in so much deeper than I thought, this is fucking hilarious.”

Ivy takes one step back, until her hip bumps against the counter and she blindly feels around to leave the half-empty glass on it. To her credit, she still manages to try and infuse her voice with something resembling nonchalance one last time.

“You’re not making any sen—“

“Man, you’re in love, in love, huh?”

Ivy’s been shot before. So she feels like she’s not being overly dramatic when she says Selina’s words feel just like that. Like being shot right in the gut. And Ivy tries to be as stoic as she usually is when faced with things like gunshots and blunt force and bat-shaped ninja stars (holy fuck, he’s such a nerd), but she feels a bit like she’s been standing on a castle of cards for the last… however many years it’s been since she met Dr. Quinzel in Arkham, and Selina’s just figured out exactly where to blow to make it all come tumbling down.

“I mean I knew you two were into each other. Obviously,” Selina continues, and Ivy suddenly understands the exact meaning of all those expressions regarding cats and mice, “but I thought it was like… well, you know. Friends in need of a nudge towards the benefits. But this.”

Selina shakes her head, smile as wide as her eyes. She looks both surprised and delighted. Like she’s really just found out there are feelings involved in whatever lust-filled fever dream she’d interpreted as reality before now.

“And you’re the one who’s doing all the yearning. I totally thought she was the useless one. Holy shit.” Selina takes a couple steps in the direction of the window, like using a door like a normal person is simply not an option for her. “How long?”

Ivy opens her mouth, but Selina interrupts her before any sound can come out.

“Don’t answer that. I already know.” Selina waves her hand dismissively. “No wonder you’re fucking terrified. You’d be safer falling in love with an actual hyena.”

“I’m not—“

“Please.” Selina reaches the window and notices that little plant for the first time, giving it a little pat that could almost pass for affectionate if you didn’t know Selina Kyle. “So what’s scarier, Ive?” Selina almost purrs the question. “That she may not love you back, or that she probably does?”

Ivy tells herself she could murder Selina right then and there, with the help from the little plant. Hell, she could probably kill her without help from the plant.

But that wouldn’t really fix anything, right?

“Anyway!” Selina lets out a happy little sigh as she slinks out of the window and onto the fire escape outside. “No brunch, then. I’ll leave you to your brooding.” Her smile turns into a smirk then, eyes narrowed like she’s about to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. “And don’t worry, Ive. I can keep a secret.”

Selina winks at her before she disappears.

Ivy refuses, pointedly, to think about her conversation with Selina.

She tries to go back to her introspection, but it turns out there’s no breathing in and out when your chest is full of feelings to the point of actual physical discomfort, so Ivy gives up on that, too.

She could plot. Scheme, if you will. It’s been a while since she’s gone for an actual multi-step plan to rid Gotham — and, later, the world — of parasitic CEOs profiting off nature. A bit of environmentally friendly murder never fails to put her in a good mood.

But it turns out it’s nearly impossible to come up with a solo plan without being constantly aware of the fact that going solo is no longer her default. A plan involving only herself doesn’t feel like just any random plan anymore. Now it feels like a plan without her, and that’s just— that’s just the opposite of what she needs to be thinking about right now.

So.

What’s an eco-terrorist to do when eco-terrorism is not an option?

Eight hours later she’s in her lab, hair haphazardly held in a bun with a pencil as she looks at her latest experiment through her microscope.

The little sprout from her windowsill sits right next to the microscope in a beaker serving as a makeshift flower pot while Ivy works.

“You know, if this works,” Ivy tells the sprout, eyes trained on the cell that should enter active mitosis any second now, “you’re going to be my sidekick when we take down the next big guy.”

If this works, and she can give this tiny plant the powers she hopes to give her, they can take over Gotham and the world as a team. Ivy’s always worked best with plants, anyway. Who needs—

“Red?”

Harley’s voice is uncharacteristically mellow, but it manages to startle Ivy anyway.

“Jesus, Harley,” Ivy doesn’t look away from the microscope, “what the fuck are you doing here?”

She’s not mad. Not at Harley, anyway. None of this is her fault. She’s just—

Listen. Figuring out exactly what to call what she’s feeling would require introspection, and we’re not doing that anymore.

“Oh. I uh—“ There’s something in Harley’s tone that twists uncomfortably in Ivy’s chest. “Wanted to talk?”

Ivy doesn’t want to talk. Talking, as it turns out, may be the very last thing she wants to do. But there’s that something in Harley’s voice. Something that sounds a bit like embarrassment. Like shame, even. Like maybe if Ivy were to listen in on Harley’s inner monologue right now the voice in there would sound suspiciously like him calling her a fuck-up and an idiot and—

“I’m sorry.” Ivy leaves the little plant’s cell to enter mitosis in its own time and turns to fully focus on Harley. “I didn’t mean to snap. You just startled me.”

Harley visibly relaxes. Ivy decides she hates him just that much more than she did ten seconds ago.

“Didn’t mean to startle ya,” Harley leaves her bat propped against the trunk of a giant nightshade and takes a few steps towards Ivy.

Normally, Harley has no concept of personal space. She sits on whatever surface is closest to Ivy, invading her space and making it impossible for her to fully focus on anything that’s not Harley. It should be annoying, but it isn’t, for reasons Ivy is absolutely not going to consider at this time.

This time, however, Harley hovers just a step or two away from Ivy and her microscope and her standing desk.

It feels…

It feels wrong.

“What did you want to talk about?” Ivy taps the desk and tries not to smile when Harley beams as she practically bounces to sit on it. Her legs dangle over the edge, well-worn combat boots lightly bumping against Ivy’s legs with each soft swing of Harley’s feet.

Nothing really feels wrong anymore.

“I’m sorry, Pammy.”

Ivy shakes her head. “It’s fine. You know you’re always welcome here, I just wasn’t expecting—“

“No,” Harley says, and when Ivy looks into her eyes she realizes Harley’s not going to let her pretend she has no idea what this is about, “I mean I’m sorry about the other night.”

Ivy stands up a little straighter. Takes half a step back, like that’s going to help. Crosses her arms over her chest.

“It’s fine.”

Harley tilts her head just so, bright blue eyes narrowing for a second, and Ivy sees a flash of Harleen right there staring back at her. Reading her fucking thoughts, almost. It’s unnerving.

“It’s fine, Harley,” Ivy insists, tone sharper as she takes another step back. She can hear the low rumble of every vine in her lab stirring along with her mood.

There’s a moment there, maybe a few seconds long, where they both simply stare at each other in silence. Like they’re trying to figure each other out in a way that feels completely foreign because she knows Harley, and Harley knows her, and there’s nothing to figure out. Nothing at all.

“You know—“ Harley’s voice sounds a bit brittle, like it may just break if it hits the wrong word, “you know I didn’t mean it, Pammy.”

Ivy nods. Once.

“I know.” She knows now and she knew when she first met Harley and she’s known for the last however many years it’s been. She fucking knows it’s love but it’s not love like that. She knows. “It’s fine.”

“You know Selina just got in my head, right?” Harley keeps talking, and on some level Ivy knows there’s nothing to be angry about because Harley just wants to explain. She just wants to make sure things aren’t weird between them because they’re best friends. But it feels almost cruel anyway. “You know I don’t—“

“I know you don’t love me, Harley, yes, for fuck’s sakes, I’m not an idiot.”

“But I—“

“Don’t.” Ivy holds one finger up. If she has to listen to Harley say she loves her, but just not in that way she may lose her fucking mind. “It’s fine.”

For a few blessed seconds, it feels like maybe Harley will let it go. Like maybe she’ll just drop it and let Ivy get out of this with some semblance of pride.

But that would just be too much to ask, wouldn’t it?

“I do love you, Ive, it’s just—“

“Holy shit, Harley!” Ivy raises her voice and hears the tell-tale creak of vines growing up the wall. “I know! I fucking know, all right? Selina is a dick and you thought margarita mix was a love potion and you’re not fucking in love with me, all right? I know!”

“But—“

“No! No fucking but!” Ivy swears she hears it. The little snap when she loses her last thread of control over what she’s saying and things spill out before she has a chance to filter them. “I don’t love you either, have you even considered that?”

Harley’s eyes widen in the purest expression of surprise Ivy’s ever seen in her life.

“Right!” There’s a part of Ivy that wants to stop. She wants to stop and backtrack and tell Harley she didn’t mean it because she can’t stand the thought of hurting her, and she needs her to know that of course — of course — Ivy loves her. But she just can’t right now. “I’m not secretly in love with you! All right? I’m glad you don’t love me. I’m fucking fine.”

Harley opens her mouth like she’s about to speak, but closes it without making a sound. She doesn’t look hurt, necessarily. She looks… she looks disarmed, almost. Like she doesn’t know how to react.

“I’ll just—“ Harley swallows and jumps off the desk. “We’re fine, so I’ll just leave. Yeah?”

Ivy nods. “Fine.”

“Cool. Yeah.” Harley sort of smiles, but not really. She moves a bit slower than usual as she goes back to her bat and walks towards the door, and there’s a part of Ivy that wants to stop her and fix this somehow — because it’s not fine at all — but self-preservation wins in the end.

“Remember to lock the door on your way out.”

For a second, Harley almost looks like she may say something. And for a second, Ivy almost hopes she will. But Harley just nods and walks out, and when she hears the lock snap into place, Ivy knows she’s all alone with her plants.

Right where she belongs.

[writingtoforgetreality]

Happy Birthday - The Devil´s Daughter Chapter One (Lucifer Morningstar x Daughter!Reader)

[Lucifer-Masterlist], [The Devil´s Daughter-Masterlist]

Next Chapter 

Summary: Being the Devil´s daughter was not particularly fun but it was something you could not change, unfortunately. What would you do on your birthday when you finally had the chance to leave heaven? Leave everything behind and start over on Earth?

Words: 1,702

Warnings: Lucifer Season 5 Part 1 spoilers, nothing too crazy yet (pretty much introducing everything), Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, God, (Y/A) = your age, (Y/E/C) = your eye color

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

Heaven. Everyone has their own imagination of this place. Of how beautiful it is. Some people believe while others don´t. You, though, you did believe in heaven. How could you not? You had been there your entire life. Why, you ask? Well, you were an angel and angels were supposed to be up there. You were not an ordinary angel, though. What made you special was your father. The Devil. Yes, you heard that right. The daughter of the rebel, someone who was “disliked” by pretty much every single existing angel. We don´t need to talk about his reputation. Even though you had never met your father, you had been excluded from all angelic doings. Therefore, what other people saw as paradise, you saw as hell. Ironic, wasn´t it?

In all your years of existing, you had met a total of three other angels and, the one and only, God himself. Apparently, nobody else wanted to be close to you. You were the devil´s daughter, you did not have the best reputation either but you had never hurt anyone and never would. As you can imagine, being pretty much alone most of the time was rather boring. Once a day, Micheal came by to keep you company for a while. The two of you were close, he always made sure you felt comfortable and never judged you by your origin. It was not something you could change anyway. On lucky days, all three angels, archangels to be precise, were at your chambers. Mostly you guys chatted but sometimes you even had game nights, your absolute favorite. To say you were thankful for Michael, Gabriel and Raphael would be understatement. Without them, you would have gone insane ages ago. To you, heaven felt like a prison. You were not allowed anywhere but your chambers. “(Y/N), it´s for your own good, trust me.” God had told you this sentence way too many times and you were starting to grow tired of it.

While you were alone, the one thing you loved doing was watching Earth and humanity. How they lived so freely without any restrictions. It was no secret that you wanted to leave heaven as soon as you would turn (Y/A). By then, you would be allowed to go anywhere you liked, without God telling you what to do. Especially Michael listened to your complaints and wishes closely. You were sure you had his support since he had told you many times before. One person you did not tell. God. Maybe because you knew his answer. Maybe because he would try everything to keep you up here, even if you had not felt happy in years. Humans did not know you were the Devil´s daughter, your reputation down there would be just fine. At least that was what you had told yourself. It did not matter anyway, your mind was set. Your birthday was in one day. One day and you would finally be free. Away from the negative energy heaven and its angels were giving you. You knew you were about to make the right decision even if it meant that you disappointed God. But this was different from what your father did, right? Rebelling meant something completely different. You simply wanted to feel free and you knew you could never achieve that if you stayed in heaven. Would God hate you forever, like Lucifer?

“You know there´s literally no need for you to knock. We´ve talked about that, Mike.” you chuckled. Mike. That was the nickname you gave Michael a while ago. He seemed to like it so you kept calling him so.

“Yeah but what if you´re changing.” he entered, wearing his smirk. His appearance made you smile. Only a few more hours until you would be gone. Looking at him made you realize that, maybe, you would miss one thing. One angel. Him. He always had your back, told you stories about your father. Because of him, you knew you were nothing like Lucifer. Everything he had done? You used to be disgusted by sharing one bloodline. Michael, though, he helped you through all of your dark phases, telling you that you were so much better. Could do so much better. He knew you were no Devil. So did Gabriel and Raphael but Michael was another story. As mentioned, he meant a big deal to you, kind of being the father you always wished you had.

“What are you doing here? I thought you said you were busy today?” confusion was shown all over your face.

“Can´t miss my favorite´s birthday now, can I?” Micheal answered, stepping closer to your bed were you were currently sitting.

“Yeah...the big (Y/A), huh?” your eyes were focused on your hands in your lap. All of a sudden, you felt a wave of guilt hitting you. Micheal was far older than you yet had never left heaven. And you, you saw the first chance and were about to leave right away.

“You´re leaving, aren´t you?” you could feel his eyes on you but you did not dare to look at him. You would break down, something you definitely did not want to do.

“I never made a secret out of it.”

“Except for Dad.” Michael interjected.

“Except for him.” a door opening made the both of you look up.

“Father, we just talked about you.”

“Mike!” you glared at him.

“(Y/N), do you really think I don´t know what you´re planning?” God gave you a look of what you read as sympathy.

“But I never-”

“(Y/N). I´m God, did you forget that? I knew you were up to this for as long as you, trust me.” he made his way over to Michael and you, stopping right in front of you.

“You are mad.” again, your eyes drifted to your lap. You felt exposed in front of him.

“I`m not. I just want you to know that you will never feel this type of safety on Earth. Humans are...well, humans. You don´t belong there, (Y/N). You belong in heaven, like me, like Michael.” God tried reasoning. You were right, he wanted to change your mind.

“I might not be as safe but at least I would have freedom. Space to move. Not just one single chamber for eternity.” by now, tears of frustration were forming at the corner of your (Y/E/C) eyes. How could he be so convinced of himself? He had no idea of how you felt being locked up.

“(Y/N), sweetie, he just wants to keep you safe.” Michael said, putting one of his arms around your shoulders, something he did to calm you down.

“Are you serious, Mike? I thought you supported my plan? Have you been lying to me?” you shook his arm off of you, looking at him with a hurtful expression.

“No, never. I would never lie to you. (Y/N), just think this through.” Michael changed sides right in front of your eyes.

“Mike, you know I want that. You should, too.” by the last part you made sure to look straight at God.

“(Y/N), you´re special. Nobody will-”

“MAYBE I DON´T WANNA BE SPECIAL!” you screamed. This was the first time you ever raised your voice but you were so frustrated, so angry, that you did not know what else to do. Both, God and Michael were taken aback by your sudden outburst.

“All my life, you told me I was special. Well, for instance,  I wouldn´t say being Satan´s daughter is special when I have never met him! I´m an angel with wings like everyone else and I happen to be Lucifer´s offspring BUT that doesn´t make me special, okay? What´s special about being in my chambers all day long, doing literally nothing but daydreaming? I´m leaving and you won´t be able to change my mind. I´ll be gone soon then you don´t have to worry about me anymore.” by the time you finished, you were facing the wall away from Michael and God.

“If you are leaving, don´t think about coming back. I gave you everything. Kept you and your not so special wings safe and that´s what I get in return? I´ll see you when you´re begging on your knees in front of heaven´s doors. Happy Birthday, (Y/N).” and with that, God left.

“Sure, special wings. Just because they´re not black like the others.” you mumbled under your breath. When you turned around, you still saw Michael sitting on your bed, looking at you expectantly. He did not leave with God and you were not quite sure why he was still with you after everything he just said.

“What?” you questioned after the staring became too uncomfortable for you.

“Just know that I still support you. Go to Earth, have adventures. If you ever need anything...I´m only one prayer away. Happy Birthday, sweetie. See you soon.” he was about to turn towards your door when you ran into his arms, hugging him with tears in your eyes.

“Mike? Thank you for everything you´ve ever done for me. You were the only one who accepted me from the first moment on. My wings didn´t matter to you, my origin didn´t matter to you. I mattered and I am forever grateful for that. I´d be happy if you visited me once, Mike. You´ll always be welcome to stay with me. Besides, you´ve never been to Earth either. It could be fun.” your eyes shined when you looked at his face, releasing the hug.

“It could be, yeah. Bye, (Y/N), take care of yourself.” before you had the chance to say anything back, you found yourself alone in your chambers. This was it. The moment you had waited (Y/A) years for. A few more minutes and your life could finally begin. Really begin. Without anyone judging you by your wings, by your father. Just (Y/N). You were ready for it. What city would you visit first? Paris? London? No. There had always been a city you were drawn to. Ironically, it was called the City of Angels aka Los Angeles. LA. Name it as you want. That would be your first stop. What would be waiting for you there? You were eager to find it out.

~to be continued~

Next Chapter

Published (08/24/2020) by Cathy

Tags: @fandomqueen2003, @natashaashleymarvelromanoff, @severewobblerlightdragon, @tenderlyunlikelyexpert, @zoseph, @comicbucky-s, @dad-ee-drea (let me know if you want to be tagged <3)

[dutchforstrangers]

Sway with me [Taiora fanfic]

A/N: I wanted to stock up all the writing inspiration for the upcoming Digiweek in a month, but I found myself today with an idea stuck in my head and I had to get it out. This weekend I was back in the theatre after all the Covid struggles, being proud of my dance students performing on stage, seeing all other kinds of choreographies from my colleagues and the vibe was so... alive and together and fun! It inspired me to write another fic including dance, because it’s one of my faves to write. Plus I LOVE to write about Taichi sweeping Sora off of her feet, because the guy can be like that! 

I might continue this one-shot, making it a short multi-chapter romance fanfic... Not sure yet but for now let’s say this is chapter [1/?].  

To give you some salsa-esque latin vibes, here’s my background playlist: Sway with me Mixtape. 

Last but not least, an important note: this is Taiora-teasing! Because, believe it or not, there is established Sorato in this one-shot/chapter...

Under read more, happy readings! <3 

Characters: Taichi (POV), Sora, Yamato mentioned (established Sorato, Taiora teasing)

Genre: DANCE! Jk, it’s friendship/hinted romance

Rating: K+

Words: 1800-ish

xxx

With summer approaching the school’s annual summer dance night was here. The floor was filled with students dancing. In groups, in duo’s, girls together, boys together or mixed. The floor was surrounded by long tables and seats for everyone who needed a rest or simply didn’t feel like dancing. It was the place where Taichi found himself standing, but not because he needed rest or didn’t felt like dancing. Spotting someone familiar leaning against the tables too, he excused himself from his friends and made his way to her.  

“Hey, why the sad face? What’s the matter?”

“I’m not sad…” Came the response from the redheaded girl. Her eyes directed away from her, arms folded across her chest. As her best friend, Taichi immediately knew something was bothering Sora.

“Oh come one Takenouchi, you look like your mom made you do Ikebana against your will.”

“Yes exactly.”

“That’s what happened?” Taichi asked out loud, surprised he had it right the first time guessing.

“No…” Sora said in return, “that would make me feel frustrated… Taichi, I’m not sad. I’m frustrated.” Her eyes shifted to his, a sigh escaping her lips. Taichi laughed seeing her like that, his head radiply shaking no.

“How could you be frustrated on a night like this?” His gaze moved from her to the dancing crowd, one hand pointing to the dance floor for her eyes to follow. “Everybody’s happy and dancing!”

However Sora’s eyes never followed and were instead still glued to him. He looked back at her, her arms still crossed, but her stance now more sassy. “You’re not dancing.” Sora teased.

“True, because I’m here talking to you.” Taichi fired back. “But you aren’t dancing either… What, is Yamato not the dancer you expected him to be?”

With that Sora quickly fell back into annoyance, leaning against the table a little bit slumped away. Her eyes were back at scanning the ground, her teeth biting her bottom lip. To Taichi it looked like he had hit a nerve by asking Sora about her boyfriend’s dancing skills. Or better said, his lack of dancing skills.

“Sora?”

“…”

Failed to get an answer out of her or catching her eyes with his own, he threw a look at Yamato who was standing a little further away with some classmates. Stiffly moving, while the music absolutely asked for a more looser kind of dancing. Taichi sighed to himself, diverting his attention back to Sora.

“Okay, I see, you are frustrated because of Yamato… I know the guy can move when he’s on stage or the music is slow...”

“… But he’s not a dancer when it comes to this upbeat kind of music. I know.” Sora interrupted him finishing his thoughts and sentence. “Though I had kind of hoped he would be a little bit better at this. Or at least try to get better. He’s so sulky tonight.”

“He can’t be that bad, can he?” He knew it was a little lie, knowing this wasn’t Yamato’s music or dancing, to try to lift her mood and simultaneously defend the blonde.

Sora gave Taichi a low chuckle in response. “Can you say someone is good at dancing like that on this music when he stepped on your foot and almost made you trip at least ten times in only three minutes?”

Taichi had to hold a chuckle himself, his lips unable to hide a grin. “I… er…”

“No. Don’t think so.” Sora filled in Taichi’s stammering. “Damn it, Taichi, we even followed a few classes and he still can’t do it right— What?”

In the meantime Taichi had made his way to stand in front of Sora, one hand extended to her for her to take. He knew she wanted to dance and if Yamato couldn’t give that to her, maybe Taichi could. “Take my hand.”

“Why?” Her face looked like she couldn’t believe him, an eyebrow raised, her head drawn back a tad. “Because you ‘can’ dance?”

Taichi couldn’t help but to laugh at her insult, once again shaking his head. “Don’t you even dare to underestimate my dancing skills. Come on, Sora! Sway with me, really, I’m not that bad. No stepping on your toes, I’ll promise..!” He said, extending his hand even more so she couldn’t reject a dance with him. Slowly her arms finally unfolded, her body not leaning against the table anymore, her feet making one step towards him to cautiously place her right hand in his left.

“… Fine.”

One pull for Taichi was enough to get her body close to his, her face immediately heating up. Catching her other hand with his free hand, he dragged Sora to the dancefloor before he made his first dance steps. Stepping forward with his left foot, making her step backwards with her right. With his hands guiding her into stepping forward with her left while stepping backward with his own right. Introducing her to the rhythm and beat of the music first, get her familiar with the swaying sounds. Eventually leading her to make steps to left and right as well as back and front, switching every now and then.

Taichi was surprised seeing Sora following so easily. Getting a little bold, he made her spin before catching her in his arms again. A little closer than before. His left hand now holding her right but their underarms touching as well. His right arm scooped under her left, his right hand gently placed on her back somewhere between her waist and shoulder blade.

The music made his hips loosening up more, his feet speeding up as well, his arms guiding and leading Sora with him. Their chests so close that their noses almost touched. Her cheeks red, the corners of her mouth curled up into a smile, lips slightly parted to breathe. Taichi felt her hips move along with his, totally in sync, signaling him she was now loosened up too. He laughed to himself, enjoying this close and intimate moment with Sora while she wasn’t one for this kind of closeness in public. Making a little show out if it, he made her make some more spins ending in a dip to the side before closing the not existing gap between them even more by placing one leg between hers. His hips making her hips move, making little steps, their cheeks against each other’s, hearing each other breathe. Feeling each other’s heartbeat through their chests, fast but steady, pounding as one.

“Impressed?” Taichi asked in Sora’s ear.

“Where’d you learn to dance like that?” Her flustered voice tickled in his ear before she drew her head back a little to look him in the eye, creating more space between them. Her hands moving to his shoulders as they still swayed to the music together.  

“Eh.” Taichi shrugged his shoulders to tease her a little. His own hands now placed on her waist respecting the created space between them.

One of her hands slapped him on his shrugging shoulder. “Taichi!”

“Fine, fine,” he laughed already caving in, “Hikari dragged me to a workshop with her when Takeru wasn’t available.”

“Just one workshop?!” Sora’s eyes grew bigger in disbelieve.

“Sor, you’re killing the magic.” Taichi waved away. Though he couldn’t resist Sora’s bright and genuine smiling.

“But I’m curious! And in awe…”

“It’s just… I had fun that workshop, so Hikari and I signed up for a short course.” Taichi scanned her face, still in a state of awe, disbelieve, surprise and happiness. He smirked back at here. “There I learned how to lead in freestyle. Still in awe?”

She nodded heavily, the wide smile on her face only growing bigger. “Absolutely yes. I’m already jealous of your future life partner. We’re actually talking while we’re still dancing!”

That implication made Taichi actually blush. A future life partner… he would love to have a partner like Sora who could dance with him like that. Or maybe for Sora- he stopped his thoughts before they would go too far and quickly changed his facial expression to hide his blush. “You really think that low of me huh?”

“No!” Came Sora’s immediate response. “You just never struck me as the dancing type. It’s a welcoming surprise. And it’s…” She stopped herself, a new blush creeping in as she shifted her gaze away from his. “Ah never mind. 

“It’s what Sora? Don’t look away so shy all of the sudden, spill it!”

“I-I think it’s…,” with the blush on her cheeks intensifying she stammered, “… kind of… sexy…?”

Taichi couldn’t hide another smirk, his cheeks mimicking hers with a blush of his own. “Is Sora Takenouchi calling me sexy? Wow, I had never thought I would actually hear that out of your mouth.” He said taking advantage of the moment, bobbing his eyebrows at her, making her blush turn into a deep red, her lips pouting a little.

“I was calling the dancing sexy. Not you.”

“Sure. But I’m still taking the compliment.” In a swift motion he took both of her hands leading her into another single spin. One of his hand sliding down from her upper to her lower back, his other hand still holding hers, making her bend her back into one last dip, he bending over her with a respectable distant between their upper bodies, but their legs intertwined and hips quite close.

“I think it’s working though…” He could hear her say as he placed her back standing straight. Taichi looked passed her taking a step back. The lopsided grin marking his expression.

“You have some nerve to use me to make your boyfriend jealous.”

“As if you mind.”

“Heh.” He let out a small chuckle, because even though he didn’t like admitting it at first she was right. “I’ll gladly let you use me.” He looked at her as she straightened her clothes.

“That’s what I thought.” Placing one hand on one cheek and reaching up to plant a peck on his other cheek Sora winked, before she spoke in her most sultry voice. “Thank you, Taichi.” Making him shiver a little.

“You’re welcome.” He quickly recovered, his hands moving by themselves to her hair to style it to its original coupe the best he could. After helping her, Taichi gave her a small kiss on her forehead to return the peck she gave him, then turning her around so she could face Yamato.

It felt a little like all those Christmases ago, when he pushed her in the blonde’s direction for her to start dating Yamato. Back then it was the right thing and tonight wouldn’t be any different. Sora was Yamato’s, and Taichi just her friend. And that was right. So he lightly, and with unwanted doubt, pushed her in his direction tonight as well. Catching a glimpse of his unwanted doubt in her eyes as she turned around to look at him one more time.

“Go teach that boyfriend of yours how to properly dance.”