#so yeah let's just ignore the alarms going off in my brain and pretend like i'm doing great xDD

[weirdcharacter]

:)

[spideyharrington]

Avoidance

summary: you’ve been friends with steve harrington since freshman year in highschool. and you’ve also been in love with him since then. but you realize he would never love you back, so you decide to put some distance between the two of you without explanation.

warnings: cursing, self esteem issues, attachment issues, abandonment issues, emotional angst to fluff !

A/N: ignore nancy in the gif 💔 this is not proofread cuz i’m tired and lazy. also it’s been quite awhile since i’ve written but i’m feeling extremely attached to steve still and also needed to get some of my own emotions out lol

word count: 3.3k exact :)

It was yet another sleepless night. Your brain too wrapped up in anxious thoughts to even let you think about closing your eyes for more than a few seconds. So you listen to the rain hitting your window and let the thoughts take over, deciding you needed to stop pushing them away. You weren’t sure how long you’d been staring at your ceiling for, but you were shaken out of your thoughts by the phone ringing. It’s one in the morning who the hell is calling? You thought as you went to answer the loud device.

“Hello?” You sounded drained.

“Couldn’t sleep either huh?” Steve sounded almost as drained.

“Nope. Why’d you call?” You hadn’t meant to sound so short but you’ve had quite a rough day at work and didn’t feel like talking. Usually Steve would make you feel better immediately but lately being around him, even hearing his voice, has just made your heart hurt.

“Figured if I was awake you probably would be too.”

“Okay… So why call? Just to test your theory?” You joked but there was hardly a joking tone present.

“I guess I just wanted to hear your voice. Helps me clear my thoughts sometimes,” he ignored your joke, “are you alright?”

“Yeah Steve. Just peachy.”

God why am i being so rude to him? He didn’t do anything?

“Was work bad today?” He knew better than to take your tone personally.

“Yeah. Nothing new though. Just people being assholes.” You didn’t feel like talking about how your day at the video store went. You’re pretty sure you even scared Robin with how irritated you were getting, considering Robin was silent half the shift and she always has something to say.

“I’m sorry princess. Anything specific-“

Princess… A name he initially used a joke, to call you dramatic or pretend like you were asking for so much as if you believed you were royalty, that he’s been using on a more regular basis lately. God you hate that name.

“Steve I’m really tired. I gotta go.” You felt bad for cutting him off but you couldn’t pretend to give a shit about work right now. Not when you knew that’s not what was really bothering you.

There was a beat of silence, Steve being surprised at you cutting him off and the tone you had, “okay. I hope you sleep well. I’m here if you need me.” He knew you weren’t sleeping soon.

“Yeah you too. Goodnight.”

When Steve hung up he couldn’t shake the awful feeling he had that he had done something wrong. Usually he doesn’t worry about that with you. You’re always so kind to him and reassuring, knowing he blames himself easily for really anything he can. But tonight just now, that was new. He hated it. He hated not being able to make you feel better.

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

After falling asleep sometime around four in the morning, your alarm went off at six thirty for work. Needless to say you ended up flipping off your alarm clock and going back to bed. You woke up again to the phone ringing, but you decided to ignore it, completely forgetting why your alarm went off. About your shift at Family Video.

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

To say Steve was anxious when he arrived at work to see Keith instead of you, was a huge understatement. Not even because he hated working with him, but because you were weird last night and now you didn’t show up to work. You haven’t missed a day since you started there.

“Hey Keith. Where’s y/n?”

“Thought you would know Harrington. She decided not to show up today.”

“She didn’t say why?”

Keith laughed, “she didn’t even call.”

Steve’s anxiety only grew. He immediately went to the phone in the back, calling you. If rang for what felt like an eternity. No answer. He called again. Okay, he called a few more times.

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

Your phone wouldn’t stop ringing. You looked to your clock, it was twelve pm. You reluctantly got up to answer.

“What?” You already knew it was Steve. He was the only one who would call that many times in a row.

“Y/n what the hell?” You could hear the panic and slight relief mixed with a hint of anger.

“Mind telling me what i’m being yelled at for?”

“Yelled at? I’m not-“ you heard him inhale, you knew he was pinching the bridge of his nose, “does your shift at work today ring a bell?” You couldn’t even tell which tone he had that time.

“Shit. Sorry. Slept in.”

“…That’s it? That’s all you got?”

“Jesus Steve I’m so sorry you had to work with Keith. I’ll get ready and head over there, calm do-“

“I don’t give a shit that I had to work with Keith, y/n. I thought- I was worried something happened.”

Shit. Now you were really being an asshole. You know how anxious he gets when someone isn’t where they’re supposed to be and don’t give a reason. Not after all the scary shit you’ve been through. He immediately assumes the worst. Even if it does seem slightly irrational, neither of you are sure what exactly is rational anymore.

“I’m sorry. Seriously I just went to bed so late and i stopped my alarm without thinking. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m really sorry.” You felt like crying. You know the panic he was feeling when he didn’t see you and when it took ten calls for you to answer. Steve could hear that through the phone.

“It’s okay. Sorry I got a bit too anxious over nothing. Take your time, yeah? I’ll be alright with Keith for a little longer.” His voice was much softer again.

“I get it Steve. Please don’t apologize, I think you’re allowed to feel that way after everything you’ve been through.” Steve felt himself relax a bit, your reassurance made him feel better after worrying all night about doing something that had pissed you off.

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

You arrived at work thirty minutes later somehow. Steve smiled when he saw you and you tried to smile back but you knew it wasn’t very convincing.

“You’re lucky you’re good at knowing what movies customers would like. Otherwise you’d be kicked to the curb y/l/n.” Keith pointed at you, sounding surprisingly less angry than you’d expected.

“Sorry Keith. Won’t happen again I swear.”

“Better not.” He mumbled and walked through the back door to his car.

“Hey. Would you rather sort and restock or check out customers and rewind these?” Steve held up a handful of tapes.

“Doesn’t matter to me.” You shrugged. Steve knew you preferred to sit and rewind the tapes when you were tired and / or anxious. So he stood up and gestures towards the chair he was previously on.

“the rewinding is all your princess.” He did a funny bow and attempted to sound british. Though it was definitely Australian. It actually would’ve been really impressive if Australian is what he was going for.

“Do I get a koala too?” You smirked and it took Steve a second to realize the jab at his accent.

“Wow ok I see how it is I do something kind and you repay me with a snarky comment.” He put his hand over his heart and pretended to be offended. But his grin gave him away.

“Oh I’m sorry. Thank you Steve Harrington! My savior!” You put your hands together and pretended to fawn over him, laughing.

God Steve loved your smile and your laugh. He’d sell a kidney to see it 24/7.

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

When Steve was away stocking the romance section, your thoughts came back. Your depressing mood resurfacing. You were trying to keep your distance a bit, but he kept pulling you back in with his warm smile and his stupid Harrington charm.

You joked every now and then for the rest of your shift, but Steve could tell your mood had changed again. You knew he knew by the look on his face. A weak smile that you knew was the same you were giving him.

“Try to get some better rest tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“No promises. And yeah.” You lied. You had already decided halfway through your shift that you wouldn’t come in to see him on your next days off, including tomorrow, like you usually did. You were going to make it four days without seeing him. You were going to try not to call him too, but you knew better than that. You knew he’d end up calling you. If not to talk then to check you’re alive.

You waved goodbye and drove home. Deciding to watch a comfort movie before falling asleep earlier than you thought you would. Probably from the lack of sleep from the previous night.

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

Steve looked up every time the bell on the door rang, waiting to see you. The highlight of his day. Except every time he looked, it was never you. Robin noticed of course.

“Alright Steve. This is getting a little pathetic. Even for you.”

He gave her a confused look.

“I know you’re waiting for y/n to walk through the door. We have fifteen minutes till we’re closed. I don’t think she’s coming in today dingus.”

“She just- She usually comes in.”

“Steve you saw her yesterday. She’s probably busy. Maybe Eleven is making her build a fort with her again.”

Steve just shrugged and worked on rewinding the last few tapes. It was oddly a comforting thing for him to do when you weren’t there. It reminded him of you.

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

When Steve got home he called you just like you thought he would.

“Hey Steve. Sorry I didn’t stop in today. I am alive and I’m fine. Just had a lot of shopping to do.”

“No it’s okay. You have a life outside of that store.”

It was silent. Neither of you having much to say. Then you spoke up, “You okay?” You could hear something off with Steve.

“Yeah. I just hope you’re okay. You know you can tell me anything.”

“I know Steve. I’m okay. Just in a bit of a rut I guess.”

“If you need anything just call. Please.”

You swear your heart cracked at the way his voice sounded. You know he hates not being able to help, “I will. Promise.”

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

The third day you didn’t show up to say hi to Steve and Robin, Steve decided to not call. He decided to leave you alone, assuming you needed distance or something. Even Robin was confused and a bit worried. Mostly worried for Steve.

“Steve?” He jumped a little when Robin put her hand on his shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah? Sorry, was thinking.”

“I can see that. What’s going on?”

“Y/n’s been… weird. She’s been quiet. Which is normal for other people who are around her, but not for me. She’s always making so many jokes when we work together and she always comes in on her days off just to mess with me and pick a new movie to watch. She always calls too. To tell me about whatever movie she watched. But she’s basically been ignoring me. Did I do something? Please tell me if I did something stupid Rob.”

Robin felt her heart sink when he looked up at her searching for answers. He looked like a kicked puppy. She couldn’t find it in herself to tease him.

“She hasn’t said anything to me bud. I’m sorry. I can talk to her though if you-“

“No!” He cleared his throat, “no, it’s okay. I don’t want her to think we’re talking about her when she’s not here.”

“But we are-“

“You know what I mean. Just… Maybe see if she’s okay. But don’t bring me up.”

“I’ll drop by her place tonight then I’ll call you. I’m sure she’s just stressed or something.” She gave him a reassuring smile.

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

You were surprised to hear a knock on your door at ten that night.

You opened the door to see Robin.

“Robin? What are you-“

She barged in.

“Okay just come on in then…” You mumbled confused.

“What’s wrong with you?” She didn’t sound angry, but she didn’t sound happy.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on. That shit doesn’t work on me. You know what I mean. Why are you avoiding Steve?”

“Avoiding Steve? I’m not-“

“Almost not showing up to work when you worked with him, making your phone conversations hours shorter than usual, not coming in to say hi,” she was listing evidence on her fingers.

“Okay, okay I get it.” You threw your hands up in surrender.

Robin raised an eyebrow waiting for your explanation.

“Look, you know I have feelings for him. I’ve just been… Thinking about it lately and how I need to move on.”

“Move on? Why?”

“He obviously doesn’t feel the same wa-“

You were cut off by Robin’s laughter.

“What is so funny to you?”

“You really think that dingus isn’t head over heels in love with you too?”

“Woah woah woah first off I never said I was-“

“Oh you don’t have to.”

“Can you please stop cutting me off?”

“Can you please stop being so oblivious? Steve has been sitting there for the past three days sitting there rewinding tapes and watching that front door line a goddamn hawk. He misses you y/n.” This was probably the softest you’ve ever heard Robin talk.

“I know he cares about me. I know we’re close. And I don’t wanna lose him. But I’m tired Robin. I’m tired of reading into every little thing he does and trying to make my feelings obvious to him when I know he doesn’t feel the same way!” You spoke softly at first, but then your voice betrayed you. Cracking at the end as you raised your voice unintentionally.

“I think you need to talk to him. Seriously.” Robin was still speaking softly but she was more stern this time.

“Fat chance.” You mumbled.

“Y/n, I love you, but if you hurt Steve I swear to god… He’s been through enough as it is and you of all people know that. Too many people have left him. I genuinely don’t know what would happen to him if you left him too. He trusts you more than anyone. More than me. More than any of the kids, even Dustin. Don’t fuck this up. Don’t fuck him up.”

And with that, she left. Left your house and left you to think.

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

On your fourth and final day off you were planning on how to talk to Steve when you worked with him tomorrow. Unfortunately you didn’t get too far when you heard an aggressive knock on your door. You opened it expecting to see Robin.

“Robin I get it I’m going to-“ You stopped as soon as you saw Steve. A very upset looking Steve.

“Y/n I didn’t wanna bother you but this is killing me. I can’t stand not being able to call you and rant about whatever Dustin or Robin did to piss me off that day. I can’t stand not listening to you rant about whatever movie you just watched. I can’t stand not being around you everyday. I don’t even know what I did and I’ve been trying so hard to figure it out but I can’t. I’m sure I did something really fucking stupid per usual, but please tell me what it was so I can fix it.”

“Stevie you didn’t do anything wrong.”

He looked so lost and confused. You gestures for him to come inside. Your parents weren’t home yet.

“Then what- What happened?”

“Fuck.” You muttered and Steve looked so anxious you just wanted to hug him and tell him everything is fine.

“Would you just trust me if I said it’s me and my brain and has nothing to do with anything you did?”

“Y/n that’s not a good enough reason and you know it. Why can’t you just talk to me-“

“I couldn’t stand being so close to you all the time knowing how strongly I’m in love with you okay! And knowing you don’t feel the same.” You didn’t mean to blurt it out like that. But there it was. And you couldn’t take it back.

“How would you know that i don’t feel the same?”

“Because why would you?” You laughed like he just offended you, “you could have any girl you want. Why on earth would you choose me?”

“Because you actually give a shit about me. You’ve been there for me when my so called friends weren’t. When my parents weren’t. Hell, you were there for me when Nancy wasn’t. You stuck with me even when I was a total asshole-“

“You were never an asshole Steve. Not to me. You know that.”

“And that’s what I love about you. You always see the good in people even when literally everyone else knows- thinks they’re an asshole.”

You couldn’t hold back the tears welling up at this point, “You know how much I hate everyone who made you feel like that right?” You weren’t even upset about exposing your feelings, you were upset over the fact that Steve still sees himself like that sometimes.

“I know. And if it weren’t for you I’d probably never forgive myself for how I was. But you showed me that I’m really not that guy. I’m not that “King Steve” everyone talked about in highschool. If you weren’t there for me throughout that time up until now, I’d still be such a mess.” He chuckled a little. You didn’t find it humorous however.

“Please don’t give me the credit for that. I just pointed out what you already knew was behind those walls. Fuck! I’m so sorry Steve. I know everything you’ve been through I know about all of the assholes who left you and here I am avoiding you for such selfish reasons!” You were fully crying at this point. How could you do what you hated so many others for doing?

Steve just quietly walked up to you and out your face in his hands, wiping the tears, “It’s okay y/n. I’m okay. I didn’t think you were abandoning me. I just thought I’d done something stupid to upset you.”

“I’m still sorry for making you anxious about it. For the record I don’t think you could ever upset me. at least not for more than ten minutes tops.” He laughed which made you smile.

“You know how much I look up to you yeah?”

“Y/n you don’t have to-“

“I know. But I need you to know. I mean I already blurted out that I love you, so I might as well keep going,” you paused to look into his beautiful dark eyes, making sure he absorbs your words, “you’re the most selfless person I know. You’ll do anything from letting someone rant to you for hours over something silly that upset them, throwing yourself into portals to hell. You pay such close attention to people you care about that you know every little tell-tale sign that somethings wrong. You know I get quiet when I’m anxious, you know what songs to play to help Max when she’s in a mood, I think you��re the only person Mike has ever gone to for advice. You’re so-“

Steve must’ve understood your point because suddenly he was cutting you off with a kiss that took you by surprise, but you quickly reciprocated.

“God I love you so much y/n.” He smiled against your lips.

“I love you so much too Steve.”

“Yeah you made that pretty clear.” He chuckled and you playfully slapped his arm.

[lady-grace-pens]

Hey y’all, I just wrote an AITA post for Matt and I gotta share this shit lmao

It’s a few paragraphs long because uh… oh BOY Matthieu had some shit to talk

Taglist: @wordwizards @flowerprose

•••

Can’t believe I’m fucking doin’ this shit but… AMITA?

So my girlfriend (20F) and I (21M) have been dating for 4 years now. We started talking right after her first boyfriend (came from outta town—real city fella if you know what I mean) ditched her in the most disrespectful way possible. Fucker strung her along for four months of her life, and then just up and leaves her ass without another word.

Anyway, cut to now and rumors say the fucker is back in town. Right. Swell. My girlfriend tries to ignore it for the sake of her well being, but her bitchy little friends who can’t let go of the past want to go on telling her they know what’s best for her, and try and talk her into doing something she doesn’t want to do. Go and talk to the fucker. My girlfriend doesn’t need “closure” from this guy. She’s got all the closure she’s ever going to get from a man who didn’t care enough about her to give her the respect she’s due. Besides, it ain’t like she’s single and still wallowing in her self pity. She’s dating me for fuck’s sake.

I try and convince her to leave her ex alone, and by the skin of my teeth, she agrees. THEN the fucker turns around and wants to start worming his way back into her life again by attending her college and signing up for her club. I fight for everything I can to get her to deny him entry, but she doesn’t listen to anything I fucking tell her. She wants to go on feeling sorry for herself and mope like she doesn’t have a choice but to deal with him. Meanwhile here I am giving her a thousand and one solutions to her problem.

I, like the patient and loving boyfriend I am, settle with her and demand she ignores him as much as possible. She agrees, but you can imagine by now the red alarms in my brain are firing like dixie. So whenever all of us are together (at a party her club is having) of course you know her ex wants to glue himself to her hip chatting her ears up with all sorts of shit, pretending like I’m not even there. That’s when I make a grand display of affection for my perfect girlfriend, the kind that would make my Granddaddy proud, and tell the bastard off. In front of everybody. My best friend has to hold me back from fighting his ass. But then, this is the part I don’t fucking get, is how my girlfriend wants to turn around and pretend like I’M the villain here.

“Oh X, you’re making a scene,” she says. Yeah that‘s the fucking point. Seriously what the fuck did I do?

I force her back home and we argue about it. I feel like she’s cheating on me with the bitch—why else would she defend him? She denies it, claiming how he’s just being nice, so I do the rounds checking her phone. If she really isn’t cheating on me, then she won’t have a problem with me blocking his contact and locking her in her room. I go to bed with her that night, but when I wake up an hour later, she’s not there?? I catch her on the street in her nightwear walking back home.

I swear to God she better not be cheating on me. I can’t even get why she fell for him in the first place. Guy’s the type who wears earrings and prances around with a thin little sword in his hand singing about how he wants to be a pirate. Fucking airhead. Or as he calls it, “artist.” Yeah right. She has the epitome of manhood right here for the taking, but does she ever touch me? No.

Y’all, what am I doing wrong here? Don’t tell me this shit is all in my head. Have I ever done something to deserve this treatment? Am I somehow being an asshole??

[zuffer-weird-girl]

I may be hella afraid of birds but that wont stop me from making this.

Injured wing

The poor thing was in the balcony of the apartment. Making sounds and flapping their wings at ferocity to try to take flight again as you watched in pity.

Taking a warm towel from the dryer, your boyfriend's one since it was the comfier to be exact, you picked up the squirming little brow winged creature and took inside. You didn't had the heart to leave it out there, especially due to the snow.

While taking things out of cabinets, you didn't noticed your phone buzzing with the notifications of a certain... top hero calling you.

.

.

.

"A nightingale." You mused as you read on the internet what type of bird was now having fun on bathing on q small pot of water and singing to its heart content "How adorable!" You gushed as it shock out of the droplets of water as you carefully put a sorta of a tiny sling on a popsicle stick to mantain its feather that seemed to be broken stood on place.

"Sorry buddy, guess you're gonna have to stay like this for some time." The bird seemed to calculate your words before tweaking as you giggled at its cuteness.

That is until you heard the door opening and clicking shut.

Fuck. Keigo.

You grabbed the bird delicately and put it on a box filled with a soft towel and placed on your bed before going to open the bedroom's door to see a soaked wet, hair flat and worried hero with a frow.

"Is this some sorta of revenge or what? I was worried sick (Y/n)! You weren't answering your phone so I thought something happened." You picked your phone in confusion.

"You did?" Shit "oh..."

"Yeah. 'Oh.'" He crossed his arms before sighing cupping your cheeks "Why did you stood me up? I thought we were going to have dinner together on that restaurant."

"God!" You face palmed "I totally forgot! I'm so sorry Kei!" You whined as he let out a chuckle.

"Is fine. Although I would like if you compesate for m-"

Before he could finish his sentence, you both froze when a couple of chirps were heard. You analyzed his expression and soon giggled in nervousness at seeing his wings puff up in alarm.

"Was that.. was that a chirp?" He yed you, his pupils dilated as you took a step back with a smile.

"I.. I dont know? Maybe they are out there singing." You rolled your eyes and sweated when he towered over you as you kinda protected the nightingale inside the box with your body.

Yet the chirps intensified...

"There is a bird in here." Hawks more accused than asked as you giggled in nervousness once again.

"A bird? Why would a bird be-" the nightingale manage to escape the box and tweaked at both of you "...here."

"What is he doing in here?" He asked, if you didn't know Keigo enough, you could assume he was... unpleasant.

That's why you were so hesitant on showing the little nightingale to him in the first place when he showed up. You werent blind, and knew Keigo had some bird attics that showed up here and there. It wasn't as frequent as it would be however he was resting if the commission hadn't somehow put their hands on it. But Keigo didn't hold much strings around you. So... you could clearly see that your boyfriend wasn't happy when another one of "his kind", especially a male, he could tell somehow it was a male by the chirping dont ask why, was beneath the same rooftop as him with his partner alone.

"Is here because he is injured Kei, he needs some treatment." You cupped your hands together for the nightingale climb in it as Hawks hlardd holes at the little thing.

"Take him to the vet or something kid, this ain't a clinic." You flinched at his words but still remained strong.

"No I am not." You said "I dont know if they are going to sacrifice him or not Kei, I cant take chances."

"Do you even know how to take care of a bird in the first place dove?!" He asked, hands up as his wings puffed even more which made you snort and arch an eyebrow at him as the fella in your hands chirped.

"Well, I do have some knowledge of wings. And have to take care of one on daily basics." You giggled at the expression of shock and insulted Keigo did before walking off and leaving him groaning and sulking at knowing you wouldn't get rid of that street bird...

.

.

"Keigo Takami." He froze when he heard his full name coming from your mouth "Put that phone down. That little bird is going to stay until it gets better." He did just as you said with an eyeroll before pouting in anger at seeing the bird at your shoulder.

That's his place to put his chin on and snuggle your neck with his face. His.

"And you have to carry that thing whenever you go now? That must suck." He tried to joke, leaning with crossed arms on the kitchen counter as before his face completely fell as you simply chuckled and said it didn't bother you at all.

"Seriously?" He asked in disbelief before grabbing his mug taking a few gulps before you widened your eyes and giggling "What are you laughing at?"

"Is just that mug was full of water early and maybe our little friend may have took a bath in it." Your boyfriend stood up so fast and soon you heard disgusting noises of vomiting .

"For god's sake KEIGO I WASHED IT!"

"I DONT CARE THAT THING SHOULDN'T BE BATHING ON MY STUFF WHAT THE HECK?!"

You sighed, waiting for your boyfriend to be back as you feed the little bird with some seeds carefully, soon being met with Keigo, still brushing his teeth.

"Drama king." You chuckled as he groaned "You know he is not a thing Kei, is a nightingale."

"Great knowing it." He said with a mouthful of toothpaste before spitting into the trash, saying something about not dirtying his bathroom with other birds germs or something.

He looked at you a bit in defeat at seeing you feeding the bird as you noticed his wings drooping a bit.

"What is wrong now bird brain?" You giggled at his expression.

"You should be feeding me ... your boyfriend." You snorted before picking a sunflower seed and showing it to him.

"I thought you didn't liked this stuff?" Yoh asked cheekily as he groaned.

"There is chicken, takoyaki, nuggets heck everything that I eat!"

The bird chirped and you nodded thoughtfully as he stared at you in confusion.

"Cannibalism. I agree."

"Oh cmon I thought we were over this..." he sighed before getting something from the fridge as he scowled at the chirps following after.

.

.

.

He glared at the bird chirping a song as you hummed in delight at the sound, staring lovely at the nightingale.

"Oh cmon Kei!" You poked his cheeks which was puffed "You have to admit is a amazing sound! Nightingales are famous for that!"

"Hawks are famous for other things too y'know?" He grumbled before widening his eyes at seeing you werent giving him attention, instead grabbing your phone and recording the nightingale's chirping.

"Hm? What did you say Kei?" You looked up at him with that smirk which made him scoff and stood up with crossed arms and going to the kitchen.

You stiffled your giggled, going to your pouting boyfriend and hugging him lovingly after putting the injured bird back to safety.

"You're really jealous huh?" You carresed his chest as he breathed in and out, cheeks red at being so obvious about his feelings.

"Is a form of flirting birds singing to their mates. That little shit." He mumbled, earning you a laugh that made him smile as feeling you peppering kisses all over his neck and jawline before he caught your lips with his.

You broke apart with a goofy smile as he chuckled before deadpanning at hearing chirps before puffing and straightening his wings on all glory before shouting at the nightingale:

"GO GET YOURSELF A PARTNER! THIS ONE IS TAKEN YOU PIECE OF CRAP!"

You never laughed so hard in your life. A sound that, for Keigo at least, was far more beautiful than any chirping, singing or melody on this whole world.

.

.

.

After a few days you saw Keigo's hatred for the nightingale easing slowly but surely. Yet you never thought that coming home late on one of Keigo's day off, you would see your boyfriend, layed on the couch with a finger up holding the bird he claimed to hate it and whistling some similiar tone along with the nightingale's chirping.

You stared in shock yet awe at the look of your boyfriend directed to the bird as the sounds came out of his lips before chuckling.

"Your wing soon will be better by the looks of it. Isn't (Y/n) a great nurse?" He mumbled, a sadness deep down on his gaze as he saw the bird clapping the wing that wasn't wrapped up "You got freedom and my dove's attention bud, how could you and (Y/n) not expect me to get jealous?" He chuckled sadly as you frowned, walking slowly towards him, pretending to not overheard his monologue.

"Hey pretty thing, back already?" His cheeky smile was back as you looked at it in awe before kneeling in front of the couch he was layed on and kissing him deeply, making him close his eyes in bliss and pull you closer with his free hand by the neck.

You broke apart as he panted with a glossy yet pleased look. Ignoring the chirps for a bit, you carresed his golden looks as he closed his eyes with a smile.

"Redeeming yourself for giving attention to this bird and not me for these past few weeks?" He murmured happily yet drowsily as you giggled and kissed his forehead softly.

"You could say that bird brain." You stopped for a bit, hearing him whine miserably for you to get back, cupping your hands for the bird to get in.

"Cmon..." he whined, arm dropped over his face as the other rested on him until he felt you tugging on his shirt.

"Just get up lazy, I'm giving you all the attention you want." At this, you saw his golden eyes practically glow in bliss as he stood up as fast as he could.

.

.

.

He stretched his arms as he sitted up on the bed. Hair untamed and eyes unfocused until they dropped on the bird that had exited his box and was flapping both of his wings. Both.

"Huh. You look all better." He smirked as he felt you shift and rest your chin on his shoulder with a drowsy look.

"Who is better?" You mumbled before he pointed at the bird jumping and trying to take flight.

"Your friend there." You squealead as hs chuckled, grabbing the nightingale in one hands as he unwrapped the the made up sling as he waited patiently for the little fella to flap its wings and fly just a few centimeters above his palm.

"Cmon dove." He ushered you to follow him on the balcony as he had a gentle hold on the nightingale "Go little buddy, being stuck on a unknown place forever isn't goog for anyone."

And with a little movement of his hand, the nightingale took flight with beautiful chirps that made you smile but soon look at your boyfriend with a sad smirk as he watched the little bird fly away.

It wasn't sadness because he got attached to the nightingale. It was because that, even a small bird as he, could be free and not him. A grow up man that had a partner but was still caged by the comission...

You carresed his arm before hugging it and placing a sweet kiss to his cheek which brought his attention back to you.

"How about some hot cocoa my handsome? You still got some minutes stuck with me until you go to work." You said softly in Hope's to cheer him up.

He looked at you in some sorta of shock before chuckling and bringing you close enough to him to hear his heart beat and feel his warm yet chapte lips on your forehead.

"Being stuck with you is the only way that keeps me going to be honest."

[sky-berrie]

Stitch - Damian

Summary: Another favorite trope - reader patches up a wound. Warning: mentions of blood. 

The window opened behind you and you felt a cool summer night breeze brush against your neck. You didn’t bother to give the intruder any attention because you knew that Damian was the only person who could disarm the alarm and crack lock mechanism with ease. You thought the whole system was overkill but it pleased Damian to have it installed so you didn’t complain.

“Hey, Damian,” you greeted him robotically with your gaze still transfixed to your laptop screen and your back to the window. You were watching the events of the latest episode of your favorite show unfold.

You heard Damian land in your room with a grunt. He was usually quite graceful, however you guessed that his ribs and hip were still sore from the last sparing session he had with his brothers and sisters. That family took everything to a whole other level.

You heard Damian shut the window after himself. The sound of the latch being secured came next. Then you heard electronic beeps as he reactivated the alarm. “You –” he let out a sharp exhale. “You took home economics, right?”

“Yeah,” you replied, nonchalantly with a mouthful of popcorn. You didn’t take your eyes off the screen, but you heard the sound of his heavy boots carry him across your room.

“Good,” he said. A shaky breath infiltrated his normally self-assured voice. “And you remember most of it?” The bed springs creaked under his weight.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

“Great,” he said. “What grade did you receive?” This wasn’t all that out of character for him. Damian was competitive in all aspects of his life. You wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to compare home economics grades just so he could vaunt his skills.

“I don’t know, Damian,” you said honestly. You turned up the volume, hoping that Damian would get the hint that you wanted to watch your show in peace and quiet. “I think it was a good mark.”

Damian let out a heavy sigh of relief. “Excellent.” His voice sounded less troubled than before.

“Jon did most of my assignments,” you admitted unapologetically.

Damian was quiet for a moment. “Okay, but you attended the classes, correct?”

You didn’t answer right away. You were too focused on the climax of the episode. “Oh my goodness,” you muttered under your breath to yourself as the plot twist unveiled. “Um,” you said, remembering that Damian had asked you something. “Yeah, yeah, more or less.”

“Do you remember how to sew?”

“Sort of,” you told him. You had sewn on a button once. It didn’t look great, but it definitely wasn’t going anywhere.

“Well enough,” he said. “I need you to suture a laceration.”

“What?” you choked out. He said it so nonchalantly that you weren’t sure if he was serious or not, because a sane person would not be so stoic. You whipped around to find Damian lying on your bed in his Robin uniform. It was soiled with a layer of black, like he had been charred. It was so dark that it masked the staining of his blood and you wouldn’t have known he was bleeding if it weren’t for the pool of red soaking through your white comforter. He was holding his side with his hands at an awkward angle.

You had seen him with cuts and bruises and even broken bones, but never with the life bleeding out of him. “Oh my goodness!” you shrieked as panic filled your lungs. Your face contorted into a horrified grimace as you tried to stifle an expression of disgust. The strong stench of metal made your stomach churn and your head woozy.

You immediately felt horrible for not paying attention to him sooner. “Damian, why didn’t you say something? Holy crap! What the hell happened? You need an ambulance!” You turned around to reach for your phone.

“No,” Damian choked out. “Secret… identity,” he said with his eyes squeezed shut.

“What about your brothers and sisters? Your dad? Alfred?”

“On their way. No time to wait. First aid kit,” he implored weakly.

You ran for the bathroom and tore into the cabinet to find the massive first aid kit that Damian insisted you store. You had opened it once or twice to grab a bandage for a paper cut but you never touched the majority of the contents. You didn’t even know what half of the kit was for. You guessed that you might find out today.

When you returned to your room, Damian was moving slowly to unbutton his uniform. You helped him with the rest, trying to do it quickly without jostling anything. You tried to ignore the squishy wetness of the uniform, but your hands came away covered in a layer of crimson blood. Beneath the outer coat, his white undershirt was seeping with blood. There was a large tear in the fabric and a bit of the raw wound peeked through.  

You didn’t have a fear of blood, really. You had no qualms about donating blood or seeing it on TV. This, however, was completely different. You were more terrified than you had ever been in your entire life. You had no idea what to do - everything you knew about CPR and standard first aid had inexplicably disappeared from your brain. Silent tears began to spill from your eyes as your breaths tore in and out of your throat, ragged and shallow.

“Y/N,” said Damian, firmly. Through your blurry, wet vision, you could see him straining to make eye contact with you. “Breathe. Everything is going to be fine. Just follow my instructions.”

Normally you trusted Damian, but this time his reassuring words didn’t have any kind of soothing effect on you. Your whole body was shaking now. You couldn’t find your voice. Instead, you shook your head.

“Yes, Y/N. It is going to be fine, but you must listen to me. Do you understand?”

You tried to take a deep breath, but an uncontrollable sob cut it short. If Damian could lie there halfway to death and still be composed, then you could at least pretend to be calm for his sake. You nodded your head this time, trying your best to even out your breathing. It was no use though. You couldn’t remember how to breathe.

“Thank you. Cut it,” he said, motioning to his undershirt.

You did as he ordered and cut a line right down the centre of his shirt. It was warm and wet and clung to his skin, so you peeled it off to reveal the full extent of a nasty looking wound. Even through your distorted, teary vision, you saw enough to know it was not good.

You felt faint at the sight of his insides. Or maybe it was your hyperventilating making you dizzy.  

“Breathe, Y/N. Breathe and then get the sterile solution to irrigate it.”

You returned with freshly washed hands, a pair of gloves and a jug of irrigation solution. Following his instructions, you squeezed the syringe and expelled the liquid over his wound. It ran down his side and carried even more blood into your comforter.

“Okay,” he breathed out. “There should be a small white packet with a curved need and thread and a pair of suture holders. They look like scissors but without the blades.”

Your trembling hands had a difficult time picking out the items. Once you collected the materials, you looked at Damian for further directions.

“It’s a bit deep so you’ll need to close the layer under the skin first. Can you see it?”

You shook your head. His side was a giant red mess. You couldn’t make out anything except for blood and jagged skin. It was nothing like the clean and clear-cut diagrams you’d seen in class. “This is crazy! I can’t do this,” you cried. People spent years studying and training to do procedures like this. Stitching up a body was not something that a person should wing, and definitely not on their best friend, lying in an unsterile room.

“You can,” he assured you. “Pretend like you’re sewing some fabric. Start with this layer here.” Damian pulled at his skin and pointed to the inside with a pair of suture forceps. You couldn’t help but turn away and shut your eyes as he prodded himself. “Y/N,” he called your attention back. “Make sure the needle goes in like this and comes out like this,” said Damian as he demonstrated.

You were shaking your head. “You are absolutely insane! Sewing fabric is nothing like sewing a wound! Can’t we just wait for your dad or someone?”

“No time,” he said.

“Please, Damian,” you begged. “Let me call EMS.”

“No,” he asserted with what little strength he had.

“Please! I…”

“No,” he repeated. You could tell his patience was wearing thin.

“I understand you have to protect your secret identity, but Damian, come on. There won’t be an identity to protect if you die.”

“Batman…Nightwing…” he said weakly.

“They’ll understand!” you argued with desperation.

“No,” he mumbled. He shook his head.

Without any thought, your next words came flooding out straight from your heart. “Damian, I love you and I don’t want you to die!” Oh. That came as a shock to you. You’d never said anything like that before. In fact, you’d never even had a thought like that, but you knew it was the truth. Your hands almost flew to cover your mouth in regret, but the blood dripping from your hands stopped you.

Damian didn’t seem to notice your confession, or if he did, he didn’t acknowledge it. Had you not been utterly distracted by the emergency before you, you might have run away with embarrassment from your sudden proclamation.

“Please try for me, okay?” His eyes were starting to close, but you could see him struggle to keep them open.

You searched his eyes, to see that his once vibrant green eyes had a dull, hazy colour to them. Seeming to find what you were looking for, you conceded. You swallowed a lump in your throat. “Okay.”

It was the worst experience of your life. Damian walked you through the process, but nothing could prepare you for the nauseating feeling of piercing his skin and pulling the nylon thread through the thickness of the tissue. Seeing the inside of his body made you want to vomit but his life was at stake, and you had to be brave for him. Besides, he was the one who should be worried, not you. Your technique was obviously non-existent and you were certain that you were hurting him a hell of a lot more than he was letting on. He hissed and groaned and you apologized profusely but he insisted that you continue.

“Thank you,” said Damian after you tied the last knot. His eyes were heavy and lidded and you could tell he was barely hanging on to consciousness. “Knew you could do it.”

You had no response. Now that the worst part was over, the adrenaline had left your system and you were in shock. His hand lolled out in an attempt to offer you comfort, or maybe to seek comfort for himself. You weren’t certain which is was, but nevertheless, you instinctively clasped his hand in yours.

Then he said something that caught you off guard. His voice was so faint that you barely heard him. “For the record, I love you, as well.”

You weren’t sure if he really meant it. Maybe he was delirious. He did lose a lot of blood. You pondered it for a moment and wondered if you should feel mortally embarrassed when he was fully lucid, but just then, a gentle squeeze on your hand told you that you didn’t have to worry.

[nctsworld]

fire alarm

✩ mark x reader | college au | fluff | 1.7k 

SUMMARY ⇾ when your dorm building’s fire alarm goes off in the middle of the night and everyone’s outside, you offer to share your blanket with your shivering, cute neighbour. WARNINGS ⇾ fluff, couple of swear words RATING ⇾ teen+ 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

You started to drift into deep sleep when the sudden blares of the dorm’s fire alarm stirs you awake. 

Your groans are muffled in your pillow, frustrated that this is probably another false alarm like usual. With heavy eyes, you rush to grab your phone and keys, stuff your feet into your shoes, and waddle among the crowd of students, departing the building with your blanket over your shoulders as a make-shift jacket.   

The moment you reach the front of the building where everyone safely coalesces, you glance at your phone as you tug at the ends of your blanket around your chest. 3:08am glows back at you, along with a couple other notifications. You barely get the chance to check them since the blatant chattering of teeth nearby catches your attention instead. 

Your gaze rests on the familiar figure a few steps beside you, rubbing his arms up and down while his legs tremble. Peering around, you realize you’re one of the few who brought more than a jacket for extra warmth during this chill, autumn night. On the other hand, he’s one of the few who hardly had any layers, solely wearing a baggy red t-shirt and a pair of boxers. 

His face swivels side to side, searching the crowd, and it dawns on you that it’s none other than your next door neighbour, Mark. 

His dorm room was to the left of yours. You’ve only interacted with him in passing, regularly acknowledging each other with casual nods and smiles. His sweet smile never failed to make your heart race and to make the corners of your mouth widen further. You didn’t know much about him, except for the fact he played guitar since you occasionally heard him play late at night. 

You always wanted to get to know him, but neither of you shared the same classes nor were you in the same clubs. To make matters worse, the only time you saw one another was when either of you were coming or going.

Perhaps now was the time to finally make a move. 

Lifting your blanket off the pavement, you shuffle your way towards him. As you near him, it clicks in your head that you didn’t initially recognize him because, besides the lack of clothes and the slightly messy hair, he’s wearing glasses to boot. 

“Hey, neighbour.”  

Mark stops his searching and his focus lands on you. The handsome individual steps closer to shorten the space between you, displaying his signature smile. You grip onto your blanket tighter and the weight of your shoulders droop, allowing your face to shyly sink into the sea of fabric covering you. 

The shivering man says your name and replies with a cool, “Hey.” 

“Do you want to share the blanket with me?” 

“Oh, no. It’s okay, I’m all right,” he stammers with a shake of his head, continuing to rub his arms.  

You perk an eyebrow and open one of your arms out, offering him the promise of warmth. 

Beaming, you say, “There’s enough room for another.”

His mouth twists to one side of his face, the gears in his head obviously turning. 

“Are you sure?”       

A hum, nod, and a grin answer his uncertainty. Mark swiftly grasps onto the end of the blanket and wraps himself over his shoulder. Although the heat from the front of your body flees due to the partial sacrifice of your cover, you’re now having an extra source of heat from being right next to Mark, touching shoulder to shoulder. 

“Thanks,” he bobs his head. “I appreciate it. I just bolted out of bed and didn’t think of even bringing a jacket.” 

“That’s okay, that’s why you have me,” you joke, swaying and pressing your shoulder lightly against his. 

Both of you chuckle softly. There’s something else to add to the list of things that are keeping you warm—the prickling rising from your chest to your cheeks. 

You then comment, “I’ve never seen you with glasses before. I almost didn’t recognize you.” 

“Ah, yeah, I wear contacts during the day. Depending on stuff, I sometimes wear my glasses, but not as often.” 

“Well, I think you look good either way.” 

Your eyes practically fall and roll away from your head, cognizant of the words that just escaped your mouth. 

“I mean—” You snap your eyes shut for an extended beat, not wanting to see the look on your next door crush’s face. “You know what, let’s just pretend I didn’t say that out loud.” 

Exhaling a lengthy sigh, you turn to face the opposite direction, now regretting your offer to share your blanket with him. 

Your regret leads you to miss the way his face lights up. 

“Hey, no, thanks for the compliment.” 

Under the blanket, his fingers gingerly graze over yours for a fleeting moment, which causes you to shift your head towards him again. The tips of your noses are almost touching. His twinkling eyes are locked on you, but yours are veering everywhere else except on him. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you look good too.” 

With that, your gaze finally lands on Mark.  

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

You want to continue the conversation, you really do, but you’re at a loss of words and are too busy getting lost in the galaxy of his eyes from up-close. From the way he’s not tearing his eyes away either, a little part of you wonders if he harbours an infatuation with you as well. He couldn’t possibly, right? 

Despite being practically strangers, the silent, intense aura blooms as time passes. Your respective breaths brush against each other’s lips and it’d be so easy to just lean in to meet the other’s—

Suddenly, the tension is cut short as everyone begins to sluggishly amble their way back into the building. 

Although nothing really transpired, you break apart simultaneously like someone caught you two doing something you shouldn’t. Mark lets you have your blanket all to yourself once more and both of you head back side by side in comfortable silence.  

After walking up the flight of stairs, trailing behind all the other residents of the building, you finally reach your respective doors. 

“It was nice to see you,” you say, pulling your keys out and inserting the fitting one into your lock. 

“Yeah, thanks for sharing your blanket with me. I really appreciate it.” 

“Anytime, neighbour,” you glance up at him from your hand. His whole body faces you and his mouth is agape like he’s itching to say something. On second thought, he presses his lips together and feels around his body for his keys. Realization hits him in the face. 

“Shit,” he bangs his forehead against the door, deterring you from entering your home abode. “I forgot my keys inside.” 

Mark turns to you with a scrunched face. Even in a state of frustration, how could someone be so cute? “Sorry to ask, but can I borrow your phone?” 

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” You don’t hesitate to scramble and hand it over to him. 

He mumbles a quick thanks, rubbing the back of his head. When he finishes entering a number to dial-in, he holds the phone against his ear and leans the side of head against his door, still facing you. You stand there awkwardly, eyes wavering between the adorable phone borrower and the handful of people in the hallway trickling back into their dorms. 

After the third unanswered ring, a bold offer impulsively escapes your lips.  

“You know, you can stay at my place overnight if you need to.” 

Oh, no. Shit. Why brain, why?

You don’t register your brazenness until the fifth ring, when Mark’s jaw is hanging and his eyebrows are glued to the ceiling. Okay, maybe you can save the moment by saying it was a joke or—

“Hello?” you overhear a muffled grumble on the other end. 

The shock dissolves away from his face. “Oh, hey. Sorry to wake you, Johnny. It’s Mark…” 

Utter embarrassment. This time, you can’t save yourself from your impetuous words. Millions of possibilities run through your mind, including abandoning your phone for him to keep and then moving to another building. No, moving to another college. Actually, Mars sounds like an even better idea. 

You’re so deep in your overdramatic thoughts, your face in a pinch behind your blanket, that you don’t even realize Mark’s already done with his call. 

“Thanks.” His voice breaks you away from your thoughts, eyelids shooting open. He must’ve stepped closer while you weren’t looking because he’s now in front of you, dangling your device from his fingertips. You gently grasp the phone, jointly holding it with him. 

“And about your offer…” You cringe, ready for him to ignore your existence until the end of time. You officially ruined everything, and nothing has even happened yet. 

“How about we go on a date first?” 

Your head shoots up at his proposition. Did you hear that right? 

“Then, maybe when the fire alarm goes off again next time and I forget my keys, I’ll take you up on it.”

It could be because it’s almost 4am and you’re teetering on sleep, or you’re purely stricken, but all you could do is nod mindlessly and squeak, “Sure.”    

A heartstopping smile rolls over his face. “I was hoping you’d say that. I took the liberty of adding myself to your contacts and sent a text to my phone.” 

Mark releases your phone from his grip and begins to walk backwards towards the stairs, suppressing his desire to stay with you for a little while more. But, it’s late and it’s not like this was the last time he’d see you. You are neighbours after all. 

Waving, he whisper-shouts in the hallway, “I’ll text you back first thing when I can. Have a good night!” 

You subtly wave back, still huddling your blanket over your shoulders. When he disappears from your line of sight, you enter your room and flop onto your bed with a jubilant sigh. 

Following knocks at his door, a slit-eyed Johnny is welcomed by a vivacious friend. Too vivacious for 4am. 

“Dude, you won’t believe what just happened. Remember that cute neighbour I’ve been telling you about?...” 

Maybe (and thankfully) there wasn’t an actual fire, but another one was certainly beginning to kindle. 

And neither of you had the intention of extinguishing it any time soon. 

[moririki]

⤷ SAFETY NET

FATGUM & HAWKS X READER -> 1.1K
when partnered with another pro hero, expect them to look out for you and have your back when in danger )

REQUEST -> n/a
CONTAINS -> pro hero reader, reader falling off a building but not like that, reader thinking they might die for like two seconds in hawks' but they do NOT, fanon hawks(?) kind of im sorry, lazy plot
MORI'S THOUGHTS -> idk remember that tiktok trend around january where someone pretends to fall off a building and then make a swift getaway???? yeah it's just that basically

❍ FATGUM

-> "hey, get back here!" you ignored the angry voice, sprinting harder as you made your way to the roof of the building while cursing under your breath

-> when you clocked into work this morning, you didn't expect to be infiltrating a villain's headquarters in order to steal some documents to be on the agenda

-> neither did your partner fatgum

-> you shared an incredulous look before being given directions and a debrief

-> since fatgum was a rescue hero, there was an agreement for him to linger behind as backup while you went inside

-> though your quirk was nowhere near suited to this mission, you were still the better option to do so

-> you spoke into your earpiece quickly as you threw open the door to the roof, getting hit with the fierce wind

-> "you better fucking catch me, toyomitsu," you muttered to yourself, clutching the documents to your chest

-> you ran to the edge of the building, sucking in a deep breath as you saw how high up you were

-> but if you were to squint, you could make out the faint yellow blob that was your partner

-> "i'm right here, y/n," he chirped through the earpiece. "well, i'm a few stories down"

-> despite the adrenaline coursing through you, you giggled a little. you were about to respond when the door to the roof banged open again behind you

-> you turned to see several men, with guns, run out and surround you

-> well, it was now or never

-> "you've got nowhere to run, hero," the ringleader snarled

-> you tried to sound confident, racking your brain for any witty one-liner

-> "maybe not run, but..." you trailed off, raising your hand in a mock salute before steeling your nerves and taking a step back off of the ledge

-> you would have laughed at the way the ringleader's eyes looked like they would boggle out of his head, but the horrifying feeling of freefalling invaded your senses

-> maintaining your death grip on the documents you had risked your life to get, you shut your eyes and curled in on yourself as you braced yourself for any impact

-> sure, fatgum said he was here, but the wind rushing through your hair and the way the roof got further and further away wasn't instilling much confidence in you

-> but after those worst moments of your life, you felt your body hit something soft

-> it happened fast, but one moment you were gaining momentum, and the next you were safely engulfed in the familiar warmth of fatgum

-> his arms were wrapped around you, and you sucked in a breath that you didn't realise that you were holding in

-> you didn't move, just letting your heartbeat return to normal and for your senses to come back

-> you vaguely became aware of the way toyomitsu was patting your head in some attempt to comfort you, and you clung to him gladly

-> "right now, you're probably my favourite person in the entire world." you finally let out a breathless laugh, and you heard the comforting rumble of fatgum's in return

-> "well, i'd be a terrible partner if i didn't catch you. i guess i'd feel bad, too." you giggled as he finally set you down on your own feet, though he still stayed close

-> "now, how about we go get something to eat?" he suggested

-> "you read my mind," you beamed at him

❍ HAWKS

-> when you, two young aspiring heroes, had initially been assigned to work as partners there was a great protest

-> both you and the winged hero were adamant about working best on your own, but it was out of your hands

-> so for the past few months, you adapted to having a partner during your hero work

-> the amount of squabbles that the two of you had over which one of you was the sidekick was exhausting

-> with your quirk being accustomed to land and his to air, it was a bit of a mystery as to how you were supposed to work together

-> but you made it work

-> both of you were extremely capable as heroes, and quickly adapted to each others' quirks

-> there was a reason for you both being placed in the top ten, after all

-> but when hawks wasn't taking down villains, he gave no indication of being ranked 2nd in the country

-> "aw, c'mon, y/n, don't tell me you aren't hungry," he complained

-> "keigo, we aren't going to the fried chicken place"

-> the man almost pouted

-> "why not?"

-> "the last time we went there i had to sit and watch you eat them until you were sucking on the bone. i'd rather not have to see that again, ever"

-> hawks opened his mouth, probably to sulk, when you both heard a some screams from around the corner

-> exchanging a quick look, both of you prepared wordlessly and started to approach the scene

-> from what you could see, there was a villain stood outside of a jewellery store, with several civilians scrambling for cover

-> you couldn't see any major damage, but your eyes widened as you saw how one man in a suit was suddenly launched high into the air by the villain

-> "looks like i'll handle that," hawks muttered, quickly taking flight and catching up to the guy

-> you sprang into action too, helping to evacuate the area while the villain's attention was diverted by your partner's flashy wings

-> you had just ushered a woman to safety when you felt the ground slip away from beneath you and start to shrink as you were flung away at an alarming speed

-> well, fuck, you thought. i guess this is it.

-> as you reached the apex of your trajectory, you felt your stomach drop as you began to return back to earth

-> you felt a bit pathetic as you pictured the headlines- "number three hero dies from being thrown too hard, did nothing to prevent fall"

-> but when the slam of concrete never greeted your body, and an arm wrapped around your waist and jerked you swiftly upwards again, you were reminded just why you had been stuck with a partner

-> "geez, was a bank robber too much to handle for the number 3 hero?" you heard hawks' smartass comment, and you glared at him in return

-> "you really left it until the last second, huh?" you poked his shoulder in annoyance, and felt him laugh as he readjusted his grip

-> "maybe if you agree to go to the chicken place after arresting this guy i won't drop you"

-> "deal"

take a look at the menu - ,, 🍡 ·˚ ༘ ꒱

[marauders-venting]

Worth The Wait (Part 2)

pairing: wolfstar (remus x sirius)

genre: fluff & angst

warnings: implied panic attack

words: 3116

a/n: i decided to write a second part because people asked and i was feeling nice. Also i didn’t want sirius to be sad cause that makes me sad :(

Remus’ head was spinning. He didn’t understand what had just happened. Sirius had tried to kiss him. Sirius had tried to kiss him. But it was his own reaction that concerned and confused Remus even more. Because when Sirius had tried to kiss him he had felt something. There had been a part of him that wanted to kiss Sirius back. Wanted it desperately. A part of him that wanted to let his lips meet Sirius’ and put his hands in Sirius’ hair, brush his jaw, touch his waist. That was the part of himself that frightened Remus. Alarms had gone off in his head telling him to turn away, not to listen to that part of him because god knows what road that would lead him down.

Fuck. How long had that part of him been there? Was it new? Was it something that had appeared just now? No, it can’t be, Remus thought. It felt like this part of him has been there for a while, in constant battle with the other part of him. A battle over Sirius. Over what he wants with Sirius, over what Sirius means to him. But if these thoughts had been there for a while, how was Remus only now becoming aware of them? And if they had been there for a while, what the fuck does this mean?

All these questions come flowing into Remus’ brain within a matter of seconds and they all feel unanswerable and Remus doesn’t know. He doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t know what to do or what to think because his brain is being so so loud and there’s screaming and he can’t tell if it’s in his head and everything’s going to implode and—

BREATHE, screams something in his head. BREATHE. Remus lies down in the grass and a stab of pain in his chest from a lack of oxygen. He gasps for breath and opens his eyes although he doesn’t remember closing them. He feels disoriented. Everything feels fake.

Remus sits back up and he buries his head in his arms. If Sirius were here, he’d be sitting next to Remus, comforting him. He could practically hear Sirius asking, “what’s going on in that big brain of yours?” There are lots of things going through his brain right now. But mostly it’s just the word ‘FUCK’ exactly like that, in all-caps flashing in his mind a million times over.

That’s wrong actually, says a voice in his head. Not about the word ‘FUCK’ being repeated in his head over and over again but about what Sirius would be doing if he was here. If Sirius were here he’d probably be sitting or maybe standing awkwardly away from Remus, that look of hurt and heartbreak on his face. The look that broke Remus’ insides. It broke him more to know that he was the reason Sirius was hurt. He never wanted to hurt Sirius. He was supposed to help Sirius when was hurt. He wasn’t supposed to be the one hurting him. He’d do anything for Sirius. But this was something else. This was different. But I want this too, said that part of him. I want Sirius. Remus tries to push the thought out of his mind but he can’t. So now instead of a constant loop of ‘fuck’ he’s stuck in a constant loop of ‘I want Sirius’. Great. Fucking fantastic.

Remus tries to organise his thoughts. Okay, so let’s say for a moment, just for argument’s sake, that he does want Sirius. That he likes Sirius in the same way Sirius apparently likes him. What does that mean? Does that make him gay? Am I gay? he thinks. Maybe. It’s possible. Remus had never considered it before. He doesn’t think he’s gay. Not that he’s ever had a particularly memorable romantic or sexual experience with a girl. But he’s never had one with a boy either. He’s never wanted to. Until now. Or until whenever he started imagining the way that Sirius’ hands would feel on his hips because this couldn’t be the first time. Definitely not. Okay, so maybe I am a little gay, then, he thinks. Fuck, this is hard.

Remus doesn’t want to go back to the dorm now. He’s sure that Sirius doesn’t want to see him. But he can’t stay out here so he goes back anyway. When he gets back to the dorm James, Sirius and Peter are all asleep and Remus wonders how long he’s been outside. He checks the clock. It’s past midnight. He showers as quietly as possible and goes to bed but it’s hours before he finally falls asleep. Questions keep swirling through his head, keeping him awake. And in the middle of it all, his almost-kiss with Sirius. Every time Remus thinks about it he feels his pulse rise. He turns away from his wall and sees Sirius in the bed across from him. He’s fast asleep, one hand hanging out of his bed, his lips slightly parted. Remus takes in the curve of his lips, the edge of his jaw, the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed and his dark eyelashes visible against his pale cheek. Remus wonders why he can’t turn away and then he realises what he’s thinking about. He’s thinking about how much he’d like to kiss Sirius right now and he can’t believe he let the chance pass by. He can’t believe he rejected Sirius. He turned down the most attractive person in this whole goddamn castle. Why? Remus can’t think of any reason right now.

When Remus wakes up the next morning the dorm is empty. He almost forgets about everything that happened last night. Until he rolls over and sees Sirius’ empty bed. His first thought is that it was a dream. Maybe it was just a dream. But when he goes down to the Great Hall for breakfast and sees the way Sirius is pointedly avoiding his eye, he knows it was real. So instead of going to sit with Sirius, James and Peter, he goes to sit with Lily, Marlene and Dorcas.

“Hey,” he says, sitting down beside Lily. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” she says. “Madam Pomfrey gave me a potion and I was fine within an hour. How was doing the rounds alone? Boring right?”

“Yeah,” Remus nods. He feels his stomach twist. Remus has no reservations about lying but he hates lying to Lily. It’s pointless anyway; she can usually see right through him. “Really boring.”

Remus spends the rest of the day avoiding Sirius. James and Peter stuck with Sirius and Remus pretended it didn’t bother him. Classes the next day gave Remus more excuses not to talk to Sirius. He sat next to Lily in every class and she seemed pleasantly surprised. She asked Remus that night if anything had happened with his friends but Remus said he didn’t want to talk about it so she dropped it.

“If you change your mind, I’m here,” she had said.

“Thanks, Lily, really,” he replied. He appreciated her support but he didn’t want to talk about what had happened. Not yet anyway.

---------

“Remus.” It’s James. Remus turns to him.

“Yeah?” Remus says. Five days had passed since the incident with Sirius. Remus had barely exchanged a sentence with James, Sirius or Peter. He’s sure James and Peter must have noticed something was going on but he had been hoping that Sirius hadn’t mentioned it.

“Look, I know things might be weird with Sirius right now but that doesn’t mean you have to avoid me and Peter as well,” he says.

“Why would things be weird with Sirius?” Remus tries to say casually. He fails.

“Remus…” James starts but Remus realises before he says anything.

“He told you, didn’t he?” Remus says. “Of course, he did. Fucking tells you everything, doesn’t he? Well, what are you doing, talking to me then? Isn’t it considered betrayal to talk to the person who rejected your best friend? It’s like fraternising with the enemy.”

“Remus, what are you talking about? You’re not ‘the enemy’,” James says. “Not to me. Certainly not to Sirius.”

“Did you know?” Remus asks, ignoring what James said. Because how was he supposed to respond to that? “When he said he’d come with me that night, did you know he was going to do it?”

“I knew he was thinking about it,” James says. “He’d been thinking about it for ages.”

“And you didn’t tell him it was a bad idea?” Remus asked, arms crossed.

“Well, no,” James says. “I… I assumed you would…”

“Like him back?”

“Well… yeah,” James says, sounding rather sheepish and apologetic.

“Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why did you think I liked him back?”

“I don’t know,” James sighs. “You guys would spend all your time together. You had all these inside jokes. You’d stay up for hours talking to each other. Loads of reasons.”

“But you do that too!” Remus says. “You and Sirius do all those things you just said too and it’s not…”

“Yeah but that’s different,” James says. “Sirius has always been like my brother. Have you ever seen him as a brother?”

“I… I might have,” Remus says, arms crossed.

“Did you?”

“No,” Remus sighs. “I knew it was different, I just didn’t know that ‘different’ meant… this.”

“Does that… Remus, what do you mean?”

“Nothing,” Remus answers hurriedly, his face heating.

“Remus,” James starts, “I’m going to ask you this one time and whatever you say I’ll believe you, okay? Do you like Sirius?”

“Of course, I like Sirius, idiot, he’s my best friend,” Remus replies.

“Come on, you know what I mean,” James says. Remus remains silent. “You wanna know why I thought you liked him? Because of the way you look at him. Like you’re constantly in complete awe of him. It’s the same way he looks at you.”

“Fine,” Remus says. He’s not looking at James. “I… I think I do. I had never considered it before… before this but I started thinking about it and… and I think maybe I do actually like him.”

“Remus, that’s okay,” James says, hugging him. “It’s okay not to know or not to recognise an emotion when you’re feeling it in the moment.” Remus feels himself relax a little. Something about being told that it’s okay, that what he’s feeling is okay, something about it being put into words is comforting to him even if he can’t explain why.

“You should talk to him,” James says gently. “And you know that whatever happens, I’ll be here for you. For both of you.”

“More for Sirius than for me,” Remus says before he can stop himself. He means it as a joke, kind of, but James takes him by both shoulders and looks him dead in the eye.

“Hey,” he says. “Absolutely not. Our friendship is just as important to me as my friendship with Sirius. Remus, I promise you no matter what happens, I will always be your best friend. You assume that Peter and I would choose Sirius over you. We wouldn’t. We kept trying to talk to you these last few days but you avoided us and shut us out. Don’t do that, Rem. We miss you. We want you in our lives just as much as Sirius. I promise you that. You believe me, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do,” Remus says. And he does. Somehow. He’s not quite sure how but he does. He’s silent for a moment but gives in eventually and says it. Says the thing that’s been worrying him since the moment Sirius’ lips brushed his own for that split second. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“You can’t,” James says without hesitation. “You can’t because I know you, Remus, and I know you won’t let that happen. And Sirius won’t let it happen either.”

---------

Remus couldn’t sleep again. He couldn’t think about anything other than Sirius, lying two beds away from him. What the hell was happening to him? Sirius had been sleeping two beds away from him since they were eleven but now suddenly it was keeping him up at night? He didn’t understand himself. He rolled over.

“Sirius?” he whispered. Sirius turned around.

“Yeah?” he whispered back. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just… woke up,” Remus lied. “I don't know if I’ll be able to fall asleep now though.” He glances over to where James and Peter are still fast asleep, both snoring like logs. Sirius isn’t saying anything. “You wanna go downstairs?” Remus asked hopefully. He needs to talk to Sirius. If he figured out anything from a week of avoiding Sirius it was that he hated life without him. Unfortunately, Sirius had continued to avoid Remus even after Remus had resolved to stop. Remus could hardly blame him but he really wished Sirius wouldn’t. It made things harder.

“Yeah, okay,” Sirius nodded, getting up. Remus stands up as well, pulls a sweater on and quietly slips out the door after Sirius. They walked down the stairs in silence and sat down on the couches in the empty common room. The fire had nearly died out but it provided enough light for the two of them. Remus had, evidently, not thought this through. What the fuck was he supposed to say now?

“I can’t believe you put on a sweater when it’s nearly summer,” Sirius said, saving Remus the trouble.

“Why is that so hard to believe?” Remus asked, trying to keep it casual. “I do it all the time.”

“I know,” Sirius said. “It’s weird.”

“Weirder than wearing a leather jacket every day of the year?”

“That’s called style.”

“Well, sweaters are my style.”

“Fine, if you say so.”

“What, would you rather I wore leather jackets?”

“You can wear whatever you like, Moony.” Silence. That was the most they’d spoken all week.

“What do you want to do?” Sirius asked. Remus shrugged. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to kiss Sirius. Like, now. It was all he had been able to think about all week. But getting to the point where he’d be able to do that was what Remus seemed to be struggling with. “Why did you suggest we come downstairs, then?”

“Better than listening to James and Peter snore, isn’t it?” Remus said.

“I guess,” Sirius said. Remus hesitated. This felt like an opening. He was determined to take it.

“Sirius,” he started.

“Yeah?”

“You know… uhm the other night, when you came with me to do the rounds—”

“Remus, I’m sorry, okay?” Sirius said, his face falling. He was back away from Remus. “I get it, you don’t… you don’t like me like that—”

“No but that’s just it,” Remus said. He didn’t want Sirius to leave. Instinctively, he reached out a hand and took Sirius’. “I do.”

“What?” Sirius looked from Remus to their joined hands and back again.

“I do like you… like that,” Remus said, blushing.

“But when I…” Sirius started. “You said we should just be friends.”

“I… I was scared,” Remus admitted. “I had never thought about it before. And when you tried to… it made me think about what that would mean. About me and about our friendship. And I got scared. I’m sorry, Sirius, I’m so sorry if I hurt you. But I’ve been thinking about it since then. And… I think I may have actually liked you for a long time.”

“Remus…” Sirius started, shaking his head. “You don’t have to do this. It’s okay that you don’t like me in that way. I love being your friend and if that’s what you want then I’m happy with that. You don’t have to do this.”

“Sirius, I’m not doing anything. I’m telling you the truth, I swear.”

“R–Really?”

“Yeah,” Remus said. Sirius’ lips were parted in surprise. Remus couldn’t stop staring at them. A sudden overwhelming feeling came over him and he had to refrain from brushing Sirius’ bottom lip with his thumb. But then he realised that he doesn’t have to refrain from it. Remus hesitated for a moment. He scooted closer to Sirius on the couch, one leg crossed in front of him and the other dangling off the edge of the couch. He reached out a hand and caressed Sirius’ cheek, his thumb brushing Sirius’ bottom lip. Sirius closed his eyes. “Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Yes,” Sirius said. It came out like a whisper, his eyes still closed. Remus leaned in and slowly closed the gap between his mouth and Sirius’. His heart was thrumming so loud in his ears, he felt like the sound was echoing in his brain. His hand was still cupping Sirius’ face. He wrapped it around Sirius’ neck, kissing him harder. And as Sirius’ hands find Remus’ waist, pulling him closer, as Remus becomes acutely aware of the fact that his leg is pressed against Sirius’ thigh, Remus wonders how the fuck it took him so long to realise that this was what he’s been wanting the whole time.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing Remus said when they broke apart. 

“What?” Sirius asked, looking at him incredulously.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t figure this out sooner,” he said.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sirius said. “You could’ve taken another year and I wouldn’t care. You’re worth the wait.”

“Still,” Remus said. “I would’ve liked more time to do this.” And he kisses Sirius again. Slowly first and then more passionately, pulling Sirius towards him like he wants every inch of him and more. And Sirius lets him have it. Yep, Remus thought, I’m definitely gay. To some degree, at least. He knew there was a whole spectrum of sexualities but he’d never really bothered to think about it much until now. But figuring out his sexuality was something that Remus wasn’t particularly fussed about at this moment in time. Right now, he just wanted to stay here in Sirius’ arms, curled up on a couch, watching the fire die out, pressing tiny kisses to Sirius’ lips, the tip of his nose, the curve of his jaw.

He thinks about what Sirius said and smiles. You’re worth the wait.

---------

Sirius meant what he had said. He would’ve waited for Remus forever if he’d had to. He’d have waited until the concept of time ceased to exist. But he didn’t have to. Because Remus was his now. And all it took was one look into Remus’ amber eyes, glowing in the dying embers of the fire, for Sirius to know that this was real: he was falling in love with Remus Lupin. And he couldn’t be happier about it.

[wavesmp3]

you jump; i jump

sunwoo x reader 

requested from sensory prompts #46: the waver in someone’s voice when they’re stressed genre: spy au, exes (ish) to lovers wc: 5.6k  warnings: cursing, tiny bit of gore/blood

Sunwoo used to pride himself for being able to keep his cool, in even the most unimaginable situations. He kept his exterior when Haknyeon turned out to be double crossing their agency, Creker, and secretly sending information to a rivaling one the whole time. Sunwoo didn’t crack when his entire mission in Sydney blew up right in his fucking face, never even flinched when his gear malfunctioned dumping him in a hospital for a week. But all those instances seem to fall flat now. All the times where Sunwoo stayed strong seem to disappear the moment he feels a tap on his shoulder and turns around only to come face to face with you. “What are you-“ he falters, grasping at the last bits of crumbling pride and hanging on to the dip in his voice. “What are you doing here?” 

“You forgot this,” you continue, ignoring him entirely, “forgot it in Vienna specifically.” You dangle a watch in front of his face. The same watch he lost somewhere in Austria three months ago, at the same time that he was in the middle of the most intense and longest mission the agency had ever given him, and more notably, around the same time he met you. “Don’t look so shocked.” You scoff when he fails to respond. “You told me you were gonna be here.” 

Sunwoo laughs, except it’s less of a laugh and more of an exhale of pure disbelief. “I know what I said, but you’re…” his voice trails off, some part of him unable to finish the sentence and another part of him still too disturbed to believe it. 

You tilt your head with faux confusion. “I’m what?”

Sunwoo gulps. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

VIENNA, AUSTRIA  THREE MONTHS AGO 

Sunwoo remembers, with a starling amount of clarity, all that happened three months ago. He can recall every day he spent roaming the streets of Vienna with you despite the way he’s been trying to drown out the memories and douse his lingering feelings. 

When he met you at a pub on one of his first nights there, he told himself he entertained your conversation because, well, to put it bluntly, he thought you were cute. Although the small tug in his gut doesn’t help justify why he found himself stumbling back to his hotel room with you by his side. And there’s really no good excuse for the tiny sting of disappointment Sunwoo feels when he wakes up alone the next morning. 

It’s two days after that night when Sunwoo sees you again, sitting on a bench with a book in one hand and a to-go cup of coffee in the other. It’s an odd coincidence that he should see you in Vienna again, but the small pang of doubt is quickly replaced with a more promising burst of elation. Sunwoo can’t tell if it’s exhilarating or terrifying.

“Ah,” you mutter when you notice him approaching, “Sunwoo right?” It’s a facade, Sunwoo thinks to himself, he knows you remember his name, knows you only pretend to forget. But he doesn’t mention that, instead he nods rather lamely, shoving his fists into his pockets and burying away the voice of reason in the back of his head telling him this is a mistake. “Sit.” You say, moving your things to the other side of the bench and patting the now empty spot next to you. “I’ve been waiting for you.” 

And in retrospect, it’s quite obvious that Sunwoo should have found the words alarming. Really, he should have begun to put his guard up the second he spotted you in Vienna again. But at that moment in time, the only thing Sunwoo can think to ask is if he was worth the wait. 

Your tongue darts out, swiping at your bottom lip in thought for the smallest of seconds, before disappearing into your mouth again. “Yeah,” you say, lips turning up into an intrigued smile, “you were.” 

—

Sunwoo doesn’t think much of the way he comes to trust you so easily, telling you the truth about his job in the darkness of the hotel room. He doesn’t think anything of the way you hang onto his every word without ever sharing much about yourself. And when one day, you sit down at the cafe booth across from him and ask, “what’s your current mission,” Sunwoo doesn’t think twice before telling you everything about his objective to infiltrate Pegasus. He also doesn’t notice the phone call you make soon after. 

—

When the truth does come out, it comes fast, like water rushing off a cliff and crashing into Sunwoo sitting unsuspecting at the bottom. It comes in the form of a charity event that he only attends as part of the mission which sent him to Vienna to begin with. The truth arrives, like a rock in his gut, at the same second that Sunwoo sees you across the hall. You, who he last saw at the hotel, and you, who’s supposed to be on a train to Paris right now. And when your eyes finally catch his, there’s something unmistakable swimming in them. You’ve been caught, Sunwoo thinks, finally placing a name to the familiar way you swallow and dart your eyes around the room. Sunwoo recognizes the feeling, vaguely remembers the rush he felt once in Santiago and again in New York. 

“I can explain,” you hiss, quiet and breathless, finding him outside the hall after a few minutes. 

And Sunwoo knows he should be dying for an explanation of what you’re doing here or who you’re really working with. Some small part of Sunwoo knows that he should already be replaying every conversation and trying to determine how much information he’s given you to use against him. But another, larger part of him, that’s poking at his heart and prodding at his brain, chooses to stare at your lying eyes, study the face he’s come to memorize, and lamely ask, “how much of…” his voice tapers off, gesturing to the empty space in between you two, “of this was a lie?”

You don’t respond, but in the silence Sunwoo finds the answer anyways. 

All of it.

—

It’s not long after that night that a new message from the case officer shows up for him.  

You’re on thin ice. New mission: get rid of that Pegasus agent. 

PRESENT TIME  THREE MONTHS AFTER VIENNA

“You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here?” Sunwoo asks you again, shifting in his plastic red chair and keeping his gaze focused on the street you’re both seated beside. He hadn’t planned on hanging out after crossing paths with you earlier today. In fact, the only thing he wanted to do was put as much distance between the two of you as possible, but when you offer him a meal in exchange for a conversation, his rumbling stomach agrees before he can even consider the offer. The scene you lead him to is a busy one, filled with people rushing down the road and bustling behind each of the food stalls. It’s a mosh-posh of neon signs, kicked up dust, and the aroma of food being fried. More importantly, it’s a loud area, one where you and Sunwoo can talk freely without the worry of being heard by someone seated nearby. He takes a bite into his skewer, waiting for your response. 

“And you still haven’t told me why you didn’t follow through with the mission,” you counter, twirling your lime green straw with the tip of your finger. “The one where you were supposed to kill me.” 

You say it plainly, but something in Sunwoo’s stomach turns hard at the reminder anyways. “We’re spies,” he mutters behind clenched teeth, “not assassins.” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, taking a sip from your coke, “the job description is pretty vague.” 

The words are met with a taut silence, a snap of Sunwoo’s eyes towards yours, and a search for any implication of murder behind the sentence. 

“It’s a joke,” you choke, wiping the coke that slips from your mouth and quickly shaking your head, “I haven’t killed anyone.”

“Well anyways,” Sunwoo continues, “I tried to finish the mission. Even hired someone to find you.” And as soon as the words leave his mouth, Sunwoo realizes he’s told you too much, realizes he’s let the truth slip too easily--again. Biting his lip, he thinks this must be what people mean when they say ‘old habits die hard’. 

“He didn’t follow through.” You tell him as if to fill him in on how exactly you’re still alive and sitting across from him right here, right now, miles away from Vienna and months after Sunwoo’s hire took his money and ran. “But you knew he wouldn’t, didn’t you?”

And this you say with a taunting smile, catching his eyes like there’s a private joke concealed behind them. Sunwoo only gulps and pulls his focus back to the busy street.

“So what do you want with me?”

“I left Pegasus.” You answer, clearing your throat.

Sunwoo waits. He waits for you to take it back, for you to laugh at his widened eyes and say it’s a joke. The punchline never comes. “You’re an idiot.” He settles on.

“And I’ve got two agencies who’d prefer me to be dead right about now.” You grimace. “But despite the bounty on my head, I’m still here which means you’re probably not on great terms with Creker either.”

“Get to the point.”

“We both have people who want us dead. We both have next to nothing to lose at this point. So let’s team up.” You pause, checking Sunwoo’s reaction. He watches you intently, body pushing against the creaking plastic table in an attempt to hear you better. With an almost mischievous glint in your eyes and a satisfied quirk, you continue: “Let’s take back what we stole for them.”

There’s a long moment where Sunwoo just stares at you, deciphering what to make of the proposition. You appear genuine, Sunwoo decides leaning away from the table until his back hits the chair, but Sunwoo isn’t exactly sure how much he trusts his own judgement considering the last time he decided you were sincere you had been lying to him left and right.

Sunwoo lifts his hand to the vendor of the food stall you’re sitting by. The previous glint in your eyes is gone, overshadowed by a darker shade of doubt. “What are you doing?” you finally ask, voice lower and less excited than it had been a second ago.

With a tired sigh, he replies, “I’m gonna need more food while you explain your plan.”

Sunwoo has to swallow back the smile that nearly emerges at how happy you get.

--

It’s a simple enough idea. Clear our names, you had explained, wipe ourselves entirely from both agencies. And it’ll work too, Sunwoo realizes when you begin the second explanation on the logistics of the whole operation. The only downside to your plan is you. Because the last person Sunwoo wants to start a new mission with is the same person who broke his heart three months ago. And it’s bothersome, almost, how calm you are and how collected you appear, especially compared to how scattered Sunwoo feels just to be around you again.

“What do you think?” You ask once you’ve explained your plan completely, tapping anxiously on the table.

“I think,” Sunwoo starts, inhaling deeply, “you’ve thought about this way too much.”

“Well, yeah,” you scoff, gulping down some more coke, “three months is kind of a long time.”

And yeah, he thinks, it is. But despite the time that’s passed since you’ve last seen each other and despite the way Sunwoo thought he was over you, his stomach still flips each time you look his way. He just prays that the past three months have at least somewhat watered down how he used to feel about you.

“How do I know you won’t ditch me after we clear you?” Sunwoo asks, pushing away the thoughts of lingering heartache to a corner of his mind.

“We’ll do you first.” You state simply. “Steal your file off Creker and get the bounty off your head first. Then we’ll do me.”

“And then how do you know that I won’t ditch you?”

You falter at that, frowning for the smallest of seconds, then say, “I don’t.”

Sunwoo nods, pretending to contemplate your offer. But in all transparency, Sunwoo knew he’d agree to your plan despite the bile that turns up at your name because with the way he’s been hiding in a crappy motel and eating instant ramen every night, it’s kind of hard to refuse any proposition that gives him the slightest chance at an out from Creker. 

“Okay,” he finally utters, wiping the crumbs of his second skewer off his hands, “let’s do it.” You meet his eyes expectantly. Nodding, he says,

“Let’s team up.”

//

You and Sunwoo clash more than anything else on the first day of prepping for the mission, crammed in a corner of Sunwoo’s dingy motel with two half finished cans of red bull sitting forgotten on the table, fighting about even the smallest details.

“I know the building,” Sunwoo argues, pointing to the floor plan you have pulled up on your laptop, “and this is the entrance we should use.”

“But using this entrance,” you refute, dragging your finger across the screen to show him exactly what you mean, “will give us better access to security and admin. And trust me, I know the building better than you do.”

“How do you—” Sunwoo stills. Something seems to register in your eyes at that moment as well, a small recognition of the tiny slip up, a barely audible acknowledgement that comes in the form of a cough. And all at once, Sunwoo’s reminded of the time he spent spilling his heart to you in Vienna under more covers than he was aware of. Sunwoo’s harshly thrown against the realization that you must’ve been watching him, surveying him long before you ever found him in that Austrian pub.

“See, I knew this wouldn’t work.” He grumbles, shaking his head. “You know too much about me. No, actually, you know everything about me. And I--” there’s a dip in his tone, “I know nothing about you.”

“Fine then, ask.”

“What?”

“Whatever it is you think will even the playing field between us. Whatever it is you want to know about me,” you shut the laptop and turn your body to face him completely, an action that exudes largely frustration but more faintly, guilt, “just ask.”

--

Sunwoo learns more about you than he had intended to. He learns about the origin of the scar that runs along your spine. A fucked up operation in Shanghai, you tell him, writing over the lie you told him three months ago about it being from your childhood. He learns about your old partner Younghoon and about the shadow falling over your forehead at the sound of his name. He’s told about how you got involved with Pegasus to begin with, a similar story to Sunwoo’s beginning with Creker: an unlucky concoction of desperation and coincidence. You tell him, with reluctance, your most embarrassing story, followed by a long list of firsts and favorites. So by the time night falls, with two empty red bulls at the foot of the bed and the building’s floor plan now forgotten behind the black screen of your laptop, Sunwoo learns enough to rebuild a fraction of the trust he lost.

//

Everything goes smoother after that. You and Sunwoo seem to fall into a rhythm, meeting at a café in the morning and at the motel in the afternoon, planning out the missions with far less difficulty than before. A rather quick adjustment, from both of your ends, and an even faster allocation of responsibilities. He finds himself looking forward to sitting in front of your open laptop each day and conjuring new ways to distract you every hour. 

And it’s after meeting up with you one night, not as partners but—perhaps more cruelly—as friends, that a dangerously familiar warmth blooms in his chest and refuses to wilt away when he sees you again the next day. Sunwoo knows that he should be doing something, anything to blow out the flame, but instead he feeds the fire and prays that this time it spreads from his heart to yours.

//

“Where’d you get all of this?” Sunwoo questions one day when you show up at the motel with a suitcase full of equipment. An assortment of laptops, earpieces, weapons, and randomly picked gadgets.

“Took it from Pegasus before I left,” you smirk, pulling out an earpiece and holding it out in front of his ear. “You’re usually on the field, right? The one in action?” He nods. “Good, you can be the agent for this mission then,” you mumble, setting down the earpiece and holding up another. “I’m usually the person behind the computer anyways. Was even a handler for a mission in Seoul once.” You place the earpiece in his palm and begin to pull out the other pieces of equipment from the suitcase.

“What about Vienna?” Sunwoo says, inspecting a certain gadget from the case. “You were on the field then.” And it’s a question that would’ve been asked with malice if it had come up a couple weeks ago, but right now, there’s nothing but curiosity behind Sunwoo’s words.

“Oh,” you hesitate, a small smile appearing briefly, “I guess I do both.”

Sunwoo doesn’t ponder over your answer for long.

It’s later that day, right as you’re about to leave, that you frown at Sunwoo’s head, matter-of-factly saying, “you should change your hair before the mission.” Then, with a laugh bubbling behind your teeth, you add, “again.”

(Sunwoo changed his appearance a lot. One of the tactics that had stuck from his training days. Never really in big ways, but small changes here and there every couple of months. Sometimes it was a new piercing that he’d wear for a year and let close up in the next, and other times the change came in the form of a temporary tattoo imprinted on his neck whilst in Vancouver with Kevin. When Sunwoo met you in Vienna his hair was a light brown that he had gotten done in Tokyo and hadn’t bothered to touch up since. So when the time had come to change something again, he headed to the hair salon.

“When’d you do this?” you asked him that night, running a hand through the new red hair. 

“Just today.” He answered, hoping you wouldn’t ask for a reason. 

“I like it.” 

“More than the brown?”

“Way more.” You whispered, leaning in until he felt the breath of your words on his lips. 

And in the moment before you closed the distance, Sunwoo had made a silent vow to never change his hair again.)

Sunwoo gets his hair done the day after you suggest it, and when he returns to the motel from the salon, he finds you already there.

“Oh good, you’re back.” You mumble, arms full and an extra key card to his room that he had given you out of convenience a while back held between your teeth. “I just came to drop these off because I have to go to—" you stop, straightening yourself and eyes fixated on him. “You got your hair done.”

It’s an observation, a small, stupid thing really. A comment made in passing that should feel routine with as much time as you and Sunwoo spend together and one that should feel even more mundane considering you were the one to suggest it. But there’s something about the way you say the words that makes Sunwoo feel slightly breathless anyways. “Yeah,” he finally affirms, running a hand through his now black hair, “I did.”

You nod in acknowledgement, setting the things in your hands down, then turn to leave. 

“Wait,” he calls out. You do, pausing three paces away from the door and give a long look to the hand he’s placed on your arm to stop you before turning around to face him. And the next words seem to fall off the edge of Sunwoo’s mouth at that moment, tumbling back down his throat and landing heavily in the pit of his stomach. “Do you still…” he hesitates, attempting to smooth over the nervousness folding up in the corners of his mind. 

“What?” 

“Do you still like my hair?”

You consider it for a moment, bringing a hand up to tug at the new black fringe. And there’s something unmistakably domestic about the way you tilt your head in concentration, eyes fixed on Sunwoo’s hair as if there’s nothing more important for you to be doing in this moment. He watches you evaluate his hair closely. 

“Yeah,” you finally say, eyes meeting his and something like a double meaning swimming in them, “I still like it.”

//

The first mission goes smoothly thanks to you sitting back at the motel instructing Sunwoo which turns to take and what files to download. So with a flash drive containing all the information he needs to free himself from the agency stuffed in his pocket, he turns to leave, whispering into his earpiece, “is the exit path clear?”

“Shit.”

He stops walking. “What?”

“It’s blocked. I think I can get you out another way, but you’re not gonna like it.”

“Just tell me.”

“Okay, go one story below. Take two rights and then a left.” He does as you say, feet hitting the ground as quietly and as quickly as possible. The less time he spends in the building the better. “At the end of the hall, there’s a window.” You say once he’s near the place you directed him too. His stomach drops. “Jump from it.” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He breathes, studying the drop with grimace. “I really hate heights.”

“I know.” And there’s a misplaced softness when Sunwoo hears you mutter, “I remember.” You wait a beat. “Do you trust me?” 

“Do I trust you?” He echoes, dread and disbelief coating his words. “I don’t even—”

“Just answer the question, Sunwoo. Do you?”

“I—” he studies the drop again, thinks and overthinks the newfound steadiness in your voice. Quietly, he mumbles, “yeah.”

“Then jump.” You tell him how exactly to do it as well, where to find the rope you packed and which hook is best to use. He does as you say, preparing for a jump he hasn’t decided to take yet. And once everything is prepared, the only thing that passes between you and Sunwoo on the intercom is silence. “Hey,” you mutter after a long while, something like a joke audible in your voice, “you jump; I jump, jack.”

“Except you aren’t jumping.”

“Technically, yes, that’s true but—”

“Okay, okay, okay. Shut up.” Sunwoo inhales deeply, closing his eyes and letting silence fill the intercom again. The silence, however, is interrupted the second he hears a group of voices travelling from somewhere down the hall. His eyes snap open.

“Sunwoo—”

“Fuck it.”

He jumps.

— 

“You’re bleeding.” Is the first thing Sunwoo hears when he walks through the motel room’s door, quickly followed by you rushing to him, tilting his head with a finger against his chin, and inspecting the cut above his eyebrow. 

“Yeah well your little jump stunt didn’t make for the smoothest of landings.” 

He means it as a joke. A bad one he realizes when you pull your hand away, eyes dropping from his face and guilt hanging over your head. “Sorry about that.” 

He shrugs. “It didn’t kill me.” 

“Come on,” you beckon, grabbing the first aid kit and heading to the bathroom, “I’ll help you bandage them.” 

Sunwoo sits on top of the closed toilet lid, folding up his pant leg to examine the gash running across his shin. The cut, he realizes, isn’t nearly as bad as it feels, but you make a small face at the sight of it anyways. It doesn’t take you very long to clean the cut on his leg, quickly finishing it while kneeling on the cold bathroom tile and asking him questions about the mission.

“No stitches?” He wonders when you pat a bandage in place.

You shake your head. “You should be fine. Nothing more than a gloried scrape really.” You add teasingly while rearranging the objects in the first aid kit. And when you laugh at the look he gives you for the comment, Sunwoo does his best to ignore the fluttering that appears in his gut at the sound. 

You move on from the cut on his leg, placing the first aid kid on top of the counter and poking the bruise that’s forming above his knee before getting up yourself. He smacks your hand away.

“How’d you know about my fear of heights by the way?”

“You told me one night in Vienna.” You answer, tearing open an alcohol wipe packet. “Do you not remember?”

He shakes his head.

Frowning, you let out a small, “oh.”

Neither of you say anything after that. And Sunwoo’s so focused on the frown that’s yet to leave your face that he barely registers the way you lean towards him for better access, propping your knee on top of the toilet and between his legs for balance. Although he does notice the warmth that radiates off your body. And a minute after that, he notices how much longer it takes you to clean this, smaller cut than it took to clean the one on his leg.

“Sorry.” You quickly apologize when you press against the cut too harshly. Sunwoo waves you off. “I am sorry though.” You repeat, seriously, lips still turned down in a frown and brows knit together.

“It’s really fine.” He chuckles, amused by the amount of gravity in the apology. 

“No. For Vienna.” The amusement dies in the back of his throat. “I never apologized for…” you falter there, fingers paused against his forehead, “for that. But I am sorry.”

“It was your mission.” Sunwoo gulps. “You were being a good agent.”

“And a shitty person.” You say, no hint of a joke laced in the statement. “In fact, the mission was just to observe you. Make sure you didn’t find out anything too important about Pegasus. Meeting you was mostly on accident. And everything that followed,” you bite your lip, and Sunwoo can’t tell if you’re biting back a smile or a frown, “all those other parts just sort of came naturally.”

The flame in his chest from before bursts into a bonfire, filling his lungs with a hopeful smoke. “Naturally?” He echoes.

“Yeah,” you repeat, tongue darting out in concentration while you complete the last step of smoothing out the bandage. You don’t lean away when you finish. You don’t remove your knee from between his legs. Don’t pull away the hand you have holding back his hair or the one resting against the side of his face. Nothing but your eyes move, trailing down until they find his, visibly gulping, then wandering further below. “Naturally.”

And the word is like a spell, lifting his chin and drawing him towards you until his lips are brushing against yours. It’s barely a kiss, a small hesitant press of lips that lasts no longer than a second, but one that has Sunwoo’s heart pounding wildly in a way it never did three months ago. He pauses there, lips unmoving and hovering just below yours, waiting for you.

You don’t move. Neither leaning in nor away. His gaze flickers up to your eyes, finds them half open, focused on the upper curve of his lip. He captures your lips between his again, a second attempt that is met with response when you lean into it, inhaling him in for a tiny blissful moment and exhaling him out in the next, pushing him back by the shoulders and stepping away yourself.

“I should…”

“Fuck.”

“I should go.”

And you’re gone before he can say anything else. 

// 

The kiss is ignored by both of you while prepping for the second half of the mission. A silent agreement to act like it never even happened and another one to not discuss whatever misplaced feelings led to it. It’s almost sickening how easily you and Sunwoo fall back into being just partners. Especially considering the fact that Sunwoo’s feelings haven’t faded, the bonfire in his chest still burning with the same brightness. So Sunwoo spends his days with you, attempting to put out the fire between his lungs, and he spends his nights alone, replaying the kiss you both pretend to ignore.

“Tomorrow’s the big day.” You mutter on the last night, a trail of anxiousness slipping off your tongue. “And then we’ll be done.” 

Sunwoo only nods, watching how your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek and mulling over whether you mean done with the mission or done with him.

--

The Pegasus mission doesn’t go nearly as smoothly as the Creker one, complications toppling around Sunwoo from the moment he begins. They start small first: a locked door resulting in a change of entry and a janitor straggling in a hallway that should have been clear. He makes it to his first destination eventually, quickly shuffling through the room of file cabinets until he finds your physical files, slipping them into his bag, and heading to the next room with you whispering directions into his ear. The next room is empty when Sunwoo arrives. He works quick, bypassing the security system and fingers flying across to find your information.

“Faster.” He hears you mutter over the earpiece. A hasty reminder of what you had told him earlier that week: the room never stays empty for long.

“Got it.” He exhales, finally pinpointing your files and beginning the process of downloading and deleting them.

“Sunwoo,” he hears an elevator ding from somewhere outside the room at the same time he hears you, “someone’s coming.”

He doesn’t move. Keeping one eye on the closed door and the other on the still-pending status of your files. “I’m almost done.”

“If you leave now, they won’t see you.” Voices fill the hall. “But you have to leave now.”

“I’m not done yet.”

The voices move closer, louder. “It’s not worth it. Please, just go!”

He hears them behind the door. “It’s you.”

There’s a jingle of keys. “How will you—”

“Hey,” the door unlocks with a click, “you jump; I jump, right?”

“Sunwoo—”

He pulls the earpiece out at the exact moment that the door swings open.

-- 

The rooftop is obscenely pretty at this hour, with the golden sun partly hidden by a high-rise building but still growing in the distance, scattering its light across the sky, and casting a golden shadow on everything it touches. It’s a gorgeous sight, and yet, there’s no one but Sunwoo here to appreciate it.

“You’re okay.”

He whips around only to find you standing on the rooftop with him, body trembling and hands clasped over your mouth. Behind you, the door to the roof is still falling closed. Your eyes are red, dark circles hanging under them that make it look as if you haven’t slept days. Silently, Sunwoo wonders how he’s just now noticing your sudden restlessness, and a small part of him hopes—no prays that whatever’s chasing your sleep away is the same thing chasing his.

“I got it.” He says, pulling out the flash drive he stayed to retrieve. Your eyes never flicker off his. “How’d you find me?”

“How’d you get out?”

Neither of you answer. Instead, you begin to walk towards him, asking if he’s hurt with a voice that’s too soft and too concerned for Sunwoo to make out an answer. You ask it again.

“No, I’m not hurt.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

You stop in front of him. Close enough for Sunwoo to see the tears welled up in your eyes. “You’re okay.” You repeat, voice wavering with a sudden gust of wind.

“I am, but I—” he hesitates; you take a step towards him, “I miss you.” He succumbs to the fire in his chest; lets it fill his lungs, burn up his throat, and throw the sentence, “I just miss you so much,” out of his mouth without bothering to hide the crack in it.

He meets your eyes and finds a starling amount of clarity in them. “I missed you too.”

“Really?”

You laugh at that, nodding your head and stepping closer to him again. “I missed you before we ever met.”

He stares at you. For too long probably. Watches a smile grace your features, spreading like a fire. The flame feels familiar. And for the first time since seeing you after Vienna, Sunwoo doesn’t have to hold back the urge to ask, “Can I kiss you now?”

“Please.”

He does. Lips crashing into yours, and you meeting the motion halfway, leaning into his lips, his body, him. A fervent want present in the way you pull at his neck and grab onto the collar of his shirt that would’ve probably been surprising if it wasn’t matched completely by him. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush against his and deepening the kiss for a second more.

You both pull away, just barely, faces still close and bodies pressed against each other.

“Hey,” you begin, breath hot against his lips and a knowing smirk appearing briefly, “was I worth the wait?”

And suddenly Sunwoo’s in Vienna again, sitting on a bench, and asking you the same question.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, smiling, “you were.”

//

a/n: i apologize this request took me forever to get around too. and if the actual spy aspects to this fic make zero sense then my bad i was spit balling here. brownie points if u can find the scene inspired by queens gambit and the other scene inspired by the office lmao

[mentally-in-northern-italy]

Wrong Idea — James Potter x reader

***not my gif***

Summary: You have a big crush on James Potter but have to live with the ‘fact’ that James is smitten with your best friend, Lily. But is this really the case, or have you just got the wrong idea?

Word count: 2.9K

A/N: Hi! Second fic, whoooo! No one really requested this but it just came to me. Again, a bit too long for my liking, but it’s okay. Any feedback is very much appreciated. Requests are open, so feel free! Enjoy!!

_________________

“He is totally staring at you, Lily,” you whisper to your friend as you stand beside her, both pretending to be overly concentrated on finding just the finest box of Chocolate Frogs that Honeydukes has to offer. 

“He is not,” Lily whispers back, acting as if this prospect sounds ridiculously unbelievable but you could see her small smile as she tried her best not to glance at his direction. She continued to act as though she was very carefully examining a box of Chocolate Frogs as you chuckled quietly, trying to ignore the faint pang in your chest.

James Potter. Star Quidditch player. Self-appointed ‘mom’ of the Marauders. Personification of the very cliche, but fitting phrase, “messy hair, don’t care”. And, of course, a very famous lady’s man.

And, lastly, your ‘former’ crush who was now seemingly smitten with your best friend, Lily.

You weren’t sure when it was exactly when you had realized that you were inordinately conscious of how you looked whenever he was around, how you stole quick glances at him throughout your shared Potions class, hoping he wouldn’t notice, or how much the thought of the raven-haired boy consumed your mind. Slowly, but surely, your crush on James had developed into something so strong and overwhelming, you couldn’t even think of confiding in anyone else. Not even your best friend, Lily Evans. 

When you had heard about the rumours and gossip circulating around the school, about how James was supposedly head-over-heels for a certain red-head, you had tried your very hardest to force those feelings out of you. You couldn’t have a crush on James. He liked Lily. End of story.

You felt even worse when Lily would blush mildly, her cheeks turning as red as her hair, whenever James stopped you two to talk in the middle of the hallway. How Lily would talk your ears off about how much she hated James, and how annoying and arrogant she perceived him to be, but you knew better. You knew Lily liked James too, maybe not as outwardly as James liked her, but enough to make you feel like a terrible person for liking the same guy as your best friend of five years.

And now, you couldn’t help but notice the way James’ eyes seemed to follow you two, as he stood by a shelf at the entrance of the shop, watching you both weave around the shelves stocked with sweets and treats in Honeydukes, talking quietly amongst yourselves.

“Lily, you like him, he likes you,” you try to tell her once again, ignoring how it made your heart sting a little every time you thought of them together, “why, in Merlin’s name, are you acting so oblivious?”

“[Y/N],” she scoffed, feigning offense, “I’m not acting oblivious. And I don’t like him. I just don’t… mind him.” 

“Mhm,” you hummed as you picked up a cauldron cake off the shelf, “I totally believe you, Lils.” 

“Believe what you want, [Y/L/N],” she retorted with a clever smile but the smile started to falter as she started to look more nervous, looking steadily at something behind you.

You turned around to look at what it was exactly that had her looking so alarmed and were just as alarmed when you saw James approaching you two, after abandoning the display he was previously taking a close look at, with a confident smile set on his handsome face. 

“[Y/L/N],” he greeted as he smiled at you for a millisecond too long, sending butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy, “Evans.”

“Potter,” Lily greeted him back curtly, her face set into a smile that conveyed politeness but not necessarily obvious interest.

Maybe it was your failure to repress your intense feelings for James, but you could’ve sworn that he was looking intently at you, perhaps in the hopes that you would also acknowledge him in some way. But, you didn’t trust yourself to be able to speak without melting into a stuttering mess so you stayed quiet, averting eye contact, and fidgeting with the packet of the cauldron cake in your hands. 

“Did you need something, Potter?” Lily questioned, raising a single eyebrow. James’ gaze still hadn’t left you but he was forced to tear his eyes off of you to address Lily. 

“Oh, no, I don’t need anything,” he remarked, regaining his confident (bordering on arrogant) composure as his eyes involuntarily shifted to you once again, “I just wanted to ask something.”

This captured your attention as your eyes jumped up from the cake in your hands to the sly smile that James was sending you and Lily. This is it, you thought, he’s going to ask her out and--

“Is there any chance, [Y/N],” James started out, sending you a sincere look, making your breath hitch in your throat, “that you could give up that Cauldron Cake?” 

“Huh?” you say in surprise. Cauldron Cake? 

“The one you have in your hand,” he smiled, “Uh, Padfoot, apparently, has been craving one for a few weeks and, unfortunately, that’s the last one they have. I looked all over.” 

“Oh,” you said, a bit awkwardly, evidently struggling to find the right words for this unusual sort of situation, “yeah, I guess you can…” 

“Y’know, I told him that’s not how cravings work,” he tried to crack a joke as you handed the cake to him, his hands slightly brushing against your own, making you weak in the knees, “but he claims I wouldn’t get it. It’s just a dog--, uh, a Sirius thing, I guess.” 

He laughed an incredibly awkward laugh, while you and Lily stood there, clearly unsure of what to do. It would not be correct to say you didn’t laugh because  you thought what James had just said was unfunny… no, it was more about the fact that you hadn’t understood it at all. This wasn’t like James. Sure, James’ jokes weren’t hilarious but they certainly weren’t as… dry as the one he just told. If you could even call it a ‘joke’. It sounded an awful lot like he just winged it -- came up with a half-assed joke just for the sake of coming up with one. Not a typical James Potter move, that much you knew. 

Lily was watching this exchange occur with weirdly curious interest. She wasn’t sure what was happening but she also couldn’t tear her eyes away from darting back between you and James. It didn’t take her too long to get a general gist of what was going on… she was the brightest witch in her year, after all.

“Right,” you say, attempting to swiftly leave this incredibly strange conversation, “I’m afraid Lils and I should get going now. Enjoy the… cake.”

“Oh,” James looked down at the cake, as if he had entirely forgotten he had it in his hands and then back up at you, “yes. Thank you, by the way, for the cake. I’ll see you back at the common room, [Y/N]. Evans.” He nodded in Lily’s direction, while he mentally cursed himself for acting so awkward.

Before anyone could say anything else, you took a hold of Lily’s gloved hand and started to lead her towards the exit of the shop, ignoring whatever it was she was saying to you. You shook your head a little as ridiculous thoughts started flooding your brain. Why did he use my first name and not Lily’s? Am I reading into this too much? Am I going crazy? 

You had decided that the latter two were more likely to be the case when the corner of your eye caught an entire shelf in front of the entrance of the shop, stocked with Cauldron Cakes. And the display wasn’t too far away from where James originally stood. In fact, that’s the very display he was checking out when you had noticed him staring. 

________________

You groaned as Marlene and Lily dragged you out of the dorm room, against your will, mind you, insisting that it was absolutely crucial that you abandon your History of Magic of homework and follow them.

“We have a test coming up!” you tried to reason with them, “Lily, Mar, come on, we should be studying!”

“Studying can wait, [Y/N],” Marlene said to you, matter-of-factly, “Quidditch cannot.”

They dragged you by the arm, through the Gryffindor common room, to the Quidditch game, which was just about to start. Today was a big day; the first Quidditch game of the season, Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff. 

You, of course, knew what this meant. 

James Potter. Flying around on his broom. Being a brilliant chaser.

You had never been a particular fan of the game, but when you had started liking James, you found yourself going to the Quidditch pitch quite often. That is, until you deemed your feelings for James to be forbidden. Now, Quidditch games were just about the same as rubbing salt to your, very deep, wounds. 

The way he would look over at Lily, who stood right beside you, and wink at her made you angry. And not angry at Lily or James, but angry at yourself. All the glances he would send her way only made you get mad at yourself for ever feeling this way about someone who was so far out of your reach.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Lily said as you snapped out of your thoughts, leading you through the hallways in the direction of the Gryffindor stands.

“Yeah,” you mutter under your breath, with a twinge of sadness, making sure she wouldn’t hear, “for you.”

_______________

Gryffindor had won the match. Hufflepuff played exceptionally well, but it was no match for the Gryffindor’s brilliant offensive tactics. 

As the Gryffindor seeker had caught the snitch, the cheering in the stands rang out. You, Lily and Marlene jumped up, screaming and clapping, overjoyed at this brilliant win. 

“Come on,” Marlene said excitedly, “let’s go down to the pitch!”

“What?” you asked, alarmed. You did not want to be in close proximity to James right now. Not when his jersey would be clinging onto his body and his hair would be all sweaty and his face all red, making him look even more hands-

“Yes! Let’s go,” Lily agreed instantly, dragging you by the arm. 

You groaned once again but you knew they wouldn’t listen. As you three, no, as you two were walking down, -- Marlene was practically skipping -- thoughts of the Quidditch match in action flooded your mind. James sent so many winks and smirks in Lily’s direction that you could’ve sworn by Merlin that some of them were to you. Or this was just wishful thinking. After all, Lily was sitting right beside you. You decide that this is just you getting confused -- but then again, why did Lily always glance your way after James smiled at you, as he scored a goal, expecting you to react in some way? And why did she look genuinely pleased, instead of having even the hint of jealousy in her eyes? 

There’s nothing for her to be jealous about, you told yourself repeatedly, he was looking at Lily. 

As you three reached the Quidditch pitch, you could see clumps of students, crowding the Quidditch players, congratulating them excitedly. 

“Lily, I came to the match,” you tried to whisper to her as you two stood there, unsure of where to go, “can I please go study now?” 

“No, [Y/N] [Y/L/N]!” providing special emphasis on your full name, yelling loudly, capturing the attention of everyone on the pitch. Everyone’s head turned to look at you as you seemed to shrink into yourself and Lily wore a proud smile on her face, looking at you slyly. 

The mention of your full name had attracted a lot of unwanted attention. But it also, almost immediately, seemed to attract some wanted attention as well. 

Well, not wanted, that wasn’t allowed as per your rules, but appreciated, nonetheless. 

James’ head turned to you as he diverted his attention from some excited first-years to you and Lily. Your eyes had widened remarkably, your face had started to heat up and the butterflies in your stomach who had seemed to be asleep previously, had now woken up. 

“Oh, would you look at that,” Lily said quickly, “Thomas Lee looks dashing, I’m going to go tell him congratulations!” And with that, she walked away from you and towards Lee, the Gryffindor keeper.

James had started walking over to you as you stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do. Do you meet him halfway? Do you keep standing there? Merlin, why did this have to be so difficult? 

“[Y/N], so glad you could make it,��� he smirked at you as he pushed his sweaty hair back. 

“Uh, yeah, congratulations,” you said, trying to keep yourself from looking at his figure, “you played really well.” 

“Thanks!” said James, with, what looked like, genuine gratefulness, before the look in his eyes turned cocky again, “Although, I’ve played better. This game was a piece of cake.” 

“Of course,” you couldn’t help but smile softly at his words. This is the James you knew. The James you liked. The James you shouldn’t like.

“Speaking of cake!” he exclaimed suddenly, trying to salvage this conversation from turning awkward, “Thanks again for that cauldron cake! I was so bummed when I found they had run out.” 

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it,” you told him politely, when you remembered something. 

They hadn’t run out of cauldron cakes. In fact, they had them all piled up on the shelf right in front of the entrance. Before you could say anything, James started speaking again.

“Y’know, there’s a Hogsmeade trip coming up,” he started out confidently, but the slight shaking of his hands and the easy-to-miss quiver in his voice indicated otherwise.

“Yes, I know,” you told him, quietly. Was he telling you to ask Lily for him? Godric knows you would never be able to do that. “Lily knows too, so… you can ask her. I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

“What?” he looked very surprised, his eyebrows had furrowed as if he had no idea why you had mentioned that. 

“The Hogsmeade trip. You should ask her. She might seem like she would say no but she’ll say yes.” You ignored the feeling of your heart sinking. 

“But, I don’t want to.” he said with a slight shake of his head.

“What?” 

“I wanted to ask you.” his voice had gotten unusually quiet.

You were in absolute shock, to say the least. James Potter wanted to ask you? To Hogsmeade? What about Lily? 

“What about Lily?” you asked, confusedly, “I thought-- everyone thought--”

“I like you, not Evans,” he told you with no hesitation, “who said I liked her?”

“Literally everyone thinks so.”

“Well, they must have gotten the wrong idea.”

“But--”

“[Y/N], for someone so bloody smart, you are incredibly oblivious,” James said, with the slightest bit of his irritation showing through, “Didn’t you see me staring at you? Winking? For Merlin’s sake, there wasn’t a shortage of Cauldron Cakes back at Honeydukes! I just wanted to talk to you.” 

“But you were staring at Lily,” you say defensively, “not me. Why would you do that?”

“Because… I like you?” 

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do!” 

You shook your head in frustration. You couldn’t do this to Lily. This is not what best friends do. No, there is no way you would act on these feelings.

“Lily!” you turn away from James and make your way over to Lily, “we need to go.” 

You drag Lily away from Lee and start making your way off the pitch, leaving Lee and James staring at you both in confusion.

“So, did you say yes?” she asked you as you tried to walk as fast as you could without making it seem like you’re running away.

“What?” you turn to her. 

“To James? He asked you out, didn’t he?” she asked eagerly. You were surprised to see she wasn’t sad. At all. In fact, she seemed happy for you. 

“But you like James,” you tried to tell her, trying to work this whole situation out, standing only a few feet away from James and Lee, who were watching this interaction intently. Didn’t she?

“I thought I did,” she told you, “but I think I only convinced myself that I did, because I thought he liked me. To be honest, I really don’t. And all those times you tried to tell me he was staring at me? It was always you, [Y/N], I just happened to be standing right beside you every time.”

“But, I--,” you struggled to find words. 

“Look,” Lily said as she put a hand to your shoulder, “I know you like him. I also know he likes you. Why, in Merlin’s name, are you acting so oblivious?” she said, imitating your words from that trip to Honeydukes.

“You really don’t like him?” you asked, unsure of what you wanted the answer to be. On one hand, you would love to go out with James, on the other, you never wanted to hurt Lily’s feelings.

“No! Not even one bit,” she reassured you, “I’m a bit relieved, really, plus, I think I’ve found myself a keeper.” She turned away from you to face Lee, still stood a few feet away from you two, and smiled. Lee winked back. You laughed at this and reluctantly turned your head to James, also stood a few feet away from you. He stood with his confidence a little diminished, looking defeated. But he still gave you a small smile and waved awkwardly.

“Go! Say yes,” Lily told you, chuckling, “We can even go on double dates together.” 

You rolled your eyes playfully at Lily before you took a deep breath in and started to make your way towards him. 

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Um.”

“Let’s start over,” you told him as you straightened your posture and fixed your hair. 

“Start over?” he asked, regaining the arrogance.

“Ask me out again, Potter,” you told him, having found confidence yourself after your talk with Lily. You no longer felt bad about liking James. And you felt even better knowing he liked you.

“Oh, yes!” James plastered his smirk back on his face, “There's a Hogsmeade trip coming up, [Y/N].” 

“Yes, I’m aware,” you nodded and smiled, stifling giggles from erupting.

“Let’s go together.” he said cockily, his eyes twinkling.

“That was pathetic, James,” you said as you started to laugh softly.

“Hey!” 

“But yes. Let’s,” you told him with a mischievous smile, “Maybe this time, I can help you find the very noticeable, hard-to-miss Cauldron Cake display.” 

“Deal.” He sent you his infamous James Potter grin at which you grinned back.

[fruitquake]

The Notebook

Remus had been in such a rush to get to class, he didn’t notice he had grabbed the wrong bag. In fact, in his absentminded state, he didn’t realize before he opened the bag to find Sirius’ things inside: Pieces of crumbled up parchment, a couple of chocolate frogs, a bottle of ink, and his notebook. 

Remus remembered buying that notebook with him, in a bookshop in muggle London. Sirius had immediately fallen in love with the notebooks that had silly “inspirational” quotes written on the cover. The one he had bought said “Shoot for the moon; even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars”, which didn’t even make sense. Of course, Sirius didn’t care if it made sense or not. 

“Alright, now, students, you will be taking notes today, so get your quills and parchment out,” said Professor McGonnagal as she entered the classroom. 

Fuck. Remus didn’t have his own bag, and therefore didn’t have anything to take notes with. He turned in his seat to try and catch Sirius’ attention, but to no avail. 

He would have to borrow Sirius’ notebook then, just for this lesson. He could give it back to him afterwards. 

But as he opened it, something written on the first page caught this eye:

This notebook belongs to Sirius Black Lupin. 

Remus felt his heart rate speed up as he flicked through the pages. On some of them, Sirius had written things like “S+R”, usually with a heart neatly drawn around the letters, as well as “Sirius Lupin” over and over again. A larger block of text caught his eye:

“Why do I feel this way? I know it’s wrong, but no matter how hard I try to make the feeling go away, it’s still there; making me weak in my knees every time I look at him. 

He doesn’t realize the effect he has on me. Every damn time he smiles, or ruffles his hair, or bites his lip when he’s concentrating… Someday, one of these things will be the bloody death of me and he doesn’t even realize. 

If he found out how I feel, he would surely hate me. He can’t know I’m hopelessly in love with him. No one can ever know.” 

Remus stared blankly at the page. Surely, this couldn’t be about himself? Sirius wasn’t in love with him… Was he? 

He quickly closed the notebook before anyone around him could see what was written in it, and turned around to look at Sirius. He was staring at his desk, though he didn’t appear to be taking notes, or doing anything, really. Remus couldn’t help but wonder if Sirius had seen him reading the notebook and if so, what was going through his head?

-

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Sirius’ ears were ringing, his whole brain in panic mode. It was like an alarm inside his head, frantically ringing out:

He knows, he knows, he hates you now, everything is ruined. 

He thought of all the possible ways out of this: Fakng his own death and moving to France and live under a new name. Or faking his own death and move to the other side of the world. Or perhaps even better, faking his own death and going into outer space, making a life for himself on Mars. In fact, he didn’t really have any idea that didn’t involve faking his own death. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Remus turn in his seat to look at him. 

Alright, Sirius, he said to himself. Keep your eyes down, don’t make eye contact. As soon as Transfiguration is over you can make a run for it. 

By the end of the day, he would be Pierre The Frenchman, living on a cozy wineyard in France. Or an astronaut on his way to Mars. 

But as the lesson ended and students hurried out, he started to realize he couldn’t leave. Even if Remus now hated him, he still loved Remus, and a life without him, even if he got to meet some cool aliens instead, wouldn’t be worth living. 

He stood up, finding himself face to face with Remus. “Hey,” he said, praying his voice wouldn’t betray his nerves. “I think you have my, uh-”

“Notebook?” Remus interrupted in a strangely high-pitched voice. “Haha. What notebook? I didn’t read it. I didn’t even notice it was there. Here’s your bag! Goodbye!” He tossed the bag onto Sirius’ desk, before practically running out of the door, leaving Sirius behind in the nearly empty classroom. 

“What on earth was that about?”

Sirius jumped. He’d completely forgotten that James was there too. He turned around to face him, making a desperate attempt at a nonchalant expression. “No idea,” he lied. 

James didn’t seem so convinced. “Why was he being so weird about a notebook? And what notebook was he even talking about, anyway?” He reached into Sirius’ bag, but Sirius was quick to snatch it out of his hands. 

“It’s private!” he said. 

But James had managed to grab the notebook, and had already opened it. “Oh.” he said, realization dawning on his face. “Oh!” 

“James, give that back!” Sirius pleaded, no longer able to keep the panic out of his voice. 

James looked up at him. “You’re in love with Remus,” he almost whispered. “Shit, mate. Everything makes so much more sense now.”

Sirius looked down, shame mixing with the panic. “You weren’t supposed to have read that.”

But James ignored this. “Sirius, you have to go after him! He clearly feels the same way!”

“No he doesn’t!”

“Yes, he does,” James insisted. “Did you not see him running out of here all red in the face. And how weirdly he acted before… Pads, that is not the behavior of someone who just learned his friend is in love with him and doesn’t return those feelings.” 

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, letting out a shaky breath. “You don’t know that,” he mumbled. 

“Yes, I do! Listen to me, dimwit,” James said, grabbing a hold of both Sirius’ shoulders, forcing him to look at him. “If he didn’t have feelings for you too, he wouldn’t have acted that way. There would have been an awkward conversation where he tried to let you down gently. ‘I really like you as a friend, Sirius, but I would like to stay just that.” Something like that, you know? He definitely wouldn’t have acted like that!”

Could James really be right? Sirius fiddled nervously with his shirt collar. “So… you think I should find him and talk to him, don’t you?”

“Exactly!” James responded. “Come on, no time to waste!”

Sirius sighed. “Alright,” he muttered, taking hesitant steps towards the door. 

“Actually, wait.” James said, grabbing his arm. “Look, Pads, I know I shouldn’t have meddled in this. That notebook was private. And, well… I imagine this isn’t how you planned on me finding out that you like blokes but, uh… I want you to know that I love you just the same. You’ll always be my brother.” 

Sirius didn’t have the words to explain what a relief it was to hear that from James. All of the sleepless nights he had spent, after realizing he was gay, picturing James’ reaction. In his imagination, it was usually the end of their friendship. James looked disgusted, angry, betrayed. But as he looked into his eyes, a deep, gentle brown, there was none of that. No hatred, no disgust. “Thank you, Prongs,” he said with a small smile.

James returned the smile, pulling him into a brief hug. “No problem, mate. Now go talk to Moony, for Merlin’s sake!”

-

Remus had gone to the place he always went when seeking comfort or a place to clear his mind: the Hogwarts library. Surrounded by books, with no people around, except maybe for the librarian, he felt strangely at peace. Today, however, there was no peace. His mind was running at a dangerous speed, way too fast for himself to keep up.  

Sirius liked him… maybe. It could’ve been a prank. Could Sirius have meant for Remus to find it? Was he trying to humiliate Remus by tricking him into confessing his own feelings? Or it could all have been something Remus’ own brain, desperate for love, had made up. Either way, he was going to do what he always did in uncomfortable or scary situations: ignore it until it hopefully went away. 

“Remus.”

Fuck. It was going to be hard to ignore the problem, when the problem was standing a few feet away from him, nervously fiddling with the strap on his bag. 

Sirius shuffled awkwardly next to Remus’ table, eyeing a chair as though he was debating whether or not to sit down. “I thought I might find you here,” he said. 

Remus got up, grabbing a random book off the nearest shelf. “Congrats, Sherlock,” he said snarkily, sitting back down again. He opened the book, pretending to read. It was better than having to face Sirius.

“Moony, I- I know you looked in my notebook,” Sirius said, pulling out the chair opposite Remus and sitting down.

Remus kept his eyes on the book, without catching any of what was written in it. Sirius continued:

“I don’t know how much you actually read, but… Well, I’m pretty sure you saw enough to know the truth.”

“No, I swear, I have no idea what you’re…” Remus trailed off. What good would lying do? He had known Sirius since they were both eleven. There was no one more stubborn or persistent. If Sirius wanted to talk about this, that would happen whether Remus wanted to or not. “Yeah, I did,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.” 

“I need to know the truth as well,” Sirius said. “If you don’t feel the same, that’s fine. I’ll… I’ll get over it, I won’t make it awkward or uncomfortable, I promise. But if you do feel the same…”

Remus opened his mouth, but no sound left him. He didn’t know what to say. This didn’t feel real. It was too good to be true. A prank, for sure. James was probably hiding somewhere, ready to jump out and laugh at him with Sirius if he confessed. 

Silence stretched for what seemed like an eternity, while an internal war wreaked havoc inside of Remus. Should he tell Sirius the truth, or stay silent?

But before either side could win, Sirius had already drawn conclusions from his silence.

“Right,” he said, his voice choked-up and distant. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed there was even a chance you liked me back.” He got up, before Remus could say anything. “Just forget about it, okay?”

Fuck. Remus looked up. Sirius was walking away, his shoulders slumped, his steps heavy. Remus stood up, knocking the chair over in his hurry. “Sirius, wait!”

He had caught up with him in a few long strides. Sirius turned around, his expression hardened like he didn’t dare let himself hope again. 

This time, Remus didn’t waste any time worrying about the consequences. He cupped Sirius’ face with his hands, leaning in to kiss him, and oh Merlin, was it the best decision he had ever made. 

The kiss was returned almost immediately, like it was all Sirius had been wanting to do for years. And maybe it was… Remus thought that was the case for himself, even if he had only recently realized it. 

Both of them lost in the other’s lips, they accidentally backed into a bookcase, sending a few books falling onto the floor. 

“Who’s there?” Called the angry voice of Madam Pince. 

Sirius and Remus looked at each other, both trying to suppress their laughter. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Sirius whispered. 

Remus nodded, letting Sirius take his hand as they both ran from the library. He grinned, feeling the rush of adrenaline and euphoria take over his mind. They hid in an unused classroom, both of them laughing and panting. 

“That was close, huh?” Sirius said. “Imagine if Madam Pince had seen us. She would’ve lost her damn mind.” 

“Definitely.” Remus’ cheeks hurt from smiling. “So,” he said. “Sirius Lupin, huh?” 

Sirius groaned. “Shut up,” he said, his face turning red. 

Remus laughed. “No,” he said. “Never. It’s embarrassing for you.”

“It is,” Sirius agreed. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Remus’ lips. “Will kissing shut you up?”

“Mmh.” Remus stroked his chin with mock thoughtfulness. “You know, it just might. Why don’t keep kissing me to find out?”

[nothoughtsonlynat]

Human (Natasha Romanoff)

Human: Chapter 1

A/N: Troyes, France is 6 hours ahead of NYC so 7pm there is 1pm in NYC. For the sake of this fic we’re going to pretend that the Battle of New York lasted quite a few hours.

*This is my first ever fic and I wrote it at 3am so bear with me

WARNINGS: swearing; mentions of weapons; violence; panic attack; anxiety; my crappy writing; and I think that’s it (lmk if there’s anything I should add)

Barcelona, Spain; January, 2012:

The repetitive ticking of the clock registered in my brain before my eyes even opened. I didn’t need that clock to know what time it was, of course. It was 4:30 am— the same time I've woken up everyday for the past twenty-five years of my life. I no longer need to wake up this early, yet it’s a habit so deeply engrained in my framework that it’s seemingly unbreakable. I roll out of bed and make my way into the dingy kitchen with light footsteps. With some quick math I figured that I got barely two hours of sleep last night, but that’s more than usual. I started the coffee machine and asked with a sigh, “Would you like some coffee or are you just going to lurk in the corner?”

The leather-clad stranger with an eyepatch stepped up to the kitchen island opposite of me and responded, “I wouldn’t mind a cup. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you knew I was here.”

“Well, you know what they say about old habits. You got a name?”

“You can call me Fury. We have a lot to talk about, Eight.” I slid him a mug of cheap coffee and gestured for him to take a seat. 

“Then we’d better get started so you can get the hell out of my apartment.” He simply chuckled in response and I could already feel my patience wavering.

Two Hours Later:

“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division? Really, dude?”

“Yeah, it’s a mouthful. Trust me I know.”

“I’m sorry that you came all this way for nothing, Fury, but there’s no way in hell I'm working for some government spy circus.”

“It’s technically an extra-governmental spy agency-“

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not joining,” I said, cutting him off.

“So, you’re just gonna hop from one shitty apartment to the next until you die? That doesn’t seem like a great life.”

“Better than the one I lived before.”

“You aren’t the person to live in hiding. You’re the person who thrives in the action and lives to kick ass, and we both know it.” When I didn’t respond he continued, “I’ll leave you my card. When you change your mind, which you will, you’ll know where to find me. You don’t have to be the bad guy anymore, Eight.” With that he slid off the stool and left my apartment, leaving me with nothing but my rapidly spiraling thoughts and a black business card.

Troyes, France; May, 2012:

It had been four months since Director Fury came to my apartment in Barcelona. We’d kept in contact and he hasn’t given up on me joining S.H.I.E.L.D.. I'm living in my third apartment since then. Wow…those landlords must really hate me. I was watching the seven o’clock news when I saw something that made me choke on my Cheerios. “An alien invasion?! What the fu-” My Cheerio-muffled exclamation was interrupted by the ring of my burner phone. “Hello?”

“Eight, you watched the news recently?”

“Uh yeah, I'm watching it now. You fighting aliens now, Nicky?”

“Okay first of all, I told you to stop calling me that. Second, yes… aliens. I’m forming a team of…extraordinary people to help protect against these threats and they could really use a hand to finish off this fight.”

“I may be weird as hell but I ain't ‘extraordinary’, Fury. I don’t wanna join your band of misfits.”

“Alright, how about a compromise? You fly your fancy jet here right now and help them out and if you still don’t wanna join once the battle is over, you can go right back to France and I’ll stop bothering you about joining.” After a few seconds of silence I agreed. 

“Fine, but I’m not gonna change my mind. Wait, how do you know about my jet?”

He gave a hearty laugh and said “I know everything, Eight. You should know that by now.”

New York, New York; 96 Minutes Later: 

I flew my jet into the city, making sure to take out a few flying Chitauri in the process. We don’t need to talk about how I got my hands on a German jet that can fly 2100mph. I saw a few interesting characters standing in a circle fighting off an endless sea of aliens. I maneuvered the jet and— wait…is that guy wearing blue tights? Is this what Fury meant by extraordinary? Whatever. I landed in the street about 20 yards away and killed the engines. I hopped out and started jogging towards the group. A couple of them turned around, probably wondering who the hell the chick in the black uniform is and— whoa that’s a beautiful woman. After realizing my steps had literally faltered in a mini gay panic, I slowed to a walk and said “Y’all need a hand?”

“Depends on whose hand it is,” replied the redheaded source of my panic.

“I’m a friend of Fury’s. He practically begged me to come save your asses.”

“Fury doesn’t beg,” she said in a doubtful tone.

“Not typically, but I'm just that awesome. If you don’t believe me then call him up but I’m gonna go kill some aliens.” With that I took off down another street where there was a group of the repulsive bastards. After unloading all of my magazines into Chitauri bodies, I switched to my swords and daggers. After another hour or so of fighting, there were no more aliens in sight. I started jogging toward the rich dude’s tower when I saw said rich dude falling through the rapidly-closing portal. I stopped next to Mr. Blue Tights and the buff blonde guy with the hammer when the big green dude grabbed Mr. Rich Dude from the sky and landed next to us. The green guy yelled, waking Mr. Rich Dude up with a start. “What the hell? What happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me. Except for her, she’s pretty hot,” he said nodding toward me. Just then the redhead jogged over to us and eyed my blood-soaked form from head to toe. 

“See something you like, Red?”

“No. I’m pretty sure I'd be classified as a sadist if I liked the sight of that much blood,” she said with a raise of her eyebrow.

“Yeah that’s fair.” She shook her head at me with a small smirk. There was barely a second of silence when Mr. Rich Dude spoke up. 

“Anybody want shawarma?”

Three Hours Later:

I had gone to the Triskelion after the band of misfits apprehended Loki. Agent Hill showed me where to park my jet and directed me to a room so I could shower and stay the night if I wanted to. I had put on black jeans, a white tee, and a black jean jacket, all of which had been in a to-go bag in my jet. I was toweling off my hair when someone knocked on the door. I opened the door to see none other than the one-eyed-wonder standing there. “What can I do for you, Nicky?”

“The Avengers are being debriefed in Conference Room 6B in ten minutes. You should come.”

“The Avengers? Is that what you’re calling them? That’s cute. But I'm not an Avenger and I don’t want to be an Avenger, so no thanks.”

“You should come anyway.”

“I don’t actually have a choice, do I?”

“You know me so well, Eight,” he said with an amused grin.

I walked into the conference room and the Avengers were already there. Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor, and Natasha Romanoff—whose names I learned from Hill— were scattered around a large table, along with Fury. Romanoff eyed me from where she was standing and arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at me. I squinted my eyes and wiggled my eyebrows in response, and I could see her stifle a laugh. “What’s your name?” She accompanied the question with a blank expression, which made me feel oh-so-special. 

“That’s a very personal question, Miss Romanoff. Let’s slow the pace, please.”

“You know my name but I can’t know yours? That doesn’t seem fair.”

“The world isn’t fair, Miss Romanoff, and I love a good mystery.”

“If you two are done flirting, we have business to attend to,” interjected Fury.

“Right, my apologies, Nicky.”

“Don’t call me that, Eight.”

After an excruciating 43 minutes and 27 seconds, Fury finally let us leave. I was so close to freedom when that unbelievably sexy voice called to me. “Eight!” Romanoff hastily walked towards me in an effort to catch up.

“Yeah?”

“Is your name actually Eight?”

“If you want it to be.”

“Why are you so damn stubborn?”

“It amuses me, Red.” There was a brief silence during which both of us were trying to figure out if the conversation was over. 

I was about to leave when she continued, “So that’s it? You’re just gonna leave?”

“Well, no. I’m going to stay the night, steal some really expensive jet fuel, and then leave in the morning before Fury can get up my ass about joining his little team.”

She rolled her eyes and responded, “Why won’t you join the Avengers? And why won’t you tell me your real name?”

“It’s just not my style. I’d rather fly solo.”

“You ignored my second question.”

“Then maybe you should take the hint and stop asking.” With that I turned around and started walking away, but a hand on my arm stopped me dead in my tracks. Alarms started going off in my head, and I'm pretty sure Romanoff was saying something to me but I was too caught up in the memories of beatings, punishments, and psychological conditioning to register it. After a few of the longest seconds of my life, the white of my vision cleared up and the voice telling me ‘physical contact is strictly forbidden’ faded into the background. My heart was still hammering in my chest and I was trying to keep my breathing steady despite the inevitable panic attack trying to drag me under, I regained my neutral expression and said. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Are you okay?” She had a concerned expression and if I wasn’t so blinded with anxiety, I would’ve appreciated how cute the furrow of her eyebrows was.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna turn in. It’s been a long day.” I turned around and walked back to my temporary room at a brutal pace. As soon as the door closed behind me, hot tears raced down my cheeks and I lost the ability to breathe. It was gonna be a long night.

3:21 am:

I finally managed to calm myself down and stop the panic attack after almost four hours. Well, I passed out because I couldn’t breathe but it did calm me down. Trying to sleep would be pointless, so I decided to leave before anyone woke up. I didn’t really have much to pack so I grabbed my duffel bag and left the room. I made it to the corridor attached to the landing pads and ran into the one person I really didn’t want to see. “What are you doing out and about, Red?”

“I’ve got places to be and things to do. Were you just going to sneak out in the middle of the night like a teenager with a rebellious streak?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing, actually. Do you need a ride? Where are you going?”

“Madrid. Fury said I could hitch a ride on another plane that’s headed for Germany.”

“Well I’m going to France if you wanna ride with me. My jet will get you there a lot faster.” She studied me for what felt like way too long, probably debating if I would try to kill her or not. You know how spies are with their trust issues.

“What the hell, why not?”

And that is how I ended up in a jet with “Candy Shop” playing over the speakers and Natasha Romanoff in the copilot seat yelling at me to, and I quote, ‘slow the fuck down.’ “Why would I slow down, you psycho?! That’s the whole damn point of this thing!”

“Where did you even get a German jet this fast?”

“Germany.”

“No shit Sherlock. How did you get it?”

“I went to Germany, stopped in at the local speedy-jet dealership, and walked out with this beauty.”

“Sarcasm is a defense mechanism, you know? You’re only being like this to keep me from seeing the real you. You built walls. You want everyone to think you’re fine when in reality, you’re falling apart.”

“Okay…um…there was no need for that, Dr. Romanoff. I can find my own therapist, thank you very much. And don’t go pretending you’re all healthy in the head, Miss Assassin.” It was quiet for all of five seconds before we both burst into laughter.

Madrid, Spain:

I landed the jet at the local S.H.I.E.L.D. base and killed the engines. Romanoff and I removed our headsets and I stood to help her get her bags. “Welp, I’ll see you around I guess.” I really wasn’t good at this type of thing. Or any social interactions, really. Twenty-four years in a cell will do that to you.

“Will I? See you around, I mean?”

“Um, I don’t really know, honestly. I’m not part of S.H.I.E.L.D. so we won’t just run into each other or anything but…”

“Why won’t you join S.H.I.E.L.D.? I mean what else are you doing?”

“Ohhh, I see. You just love me so much that you don’t want me to leave. You’re gonna miss me so much-” I was cut off when she threw her backpack at my head. “Hey! You’re lucky I caught that! Freaking crazy woman.”

When our laughter died down she said, “Well I should probably go. Thank you for the ride.”

“Of course. Hitchhikers are always welcome aboard my beloved jet.” A small smile appeared on her face and she stepped forward to give me a hug but she must’ve seen my body go rigid because she stepped back. She might’ve said something but the voice in my head was too loud for me to understand her. I don’t know how long it was before I unfroze but when I did, she was gone. I walked to the front of the jet and started the journey to France.

[twdeadfanfic]

St. Patrick’s night II

Murphy MacManus x Reader

Summary:  You’re left alone on St. Patrick’s night, the people you were supposed to hang out with  seemingly having forgotten you, but what seemed to be an awful night turns into something completely different when you meet the MacManus twins.

Another chapter for this thing that was supposed to be a one-shot but got out of hand. It starts the morning after St.Patrick.

The next day at work, you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering to the MacManus twins, to how much fun you had with them…and especially to Murphy kissing you, the memory and thoughts had kept you awake for most of the night.

You still weren’t sure if he’d been just messing around, kissing you just for fun, because it was St. Patrick’s, or if it might mean something else…you two had just met, though, didn’t know each other, so you knew you shouldn’t be giving it so much thought.

You couldn’t help it, though, just like you couldn’t help the butterflies that the kiss had made you feel. Murphy was attractive, sure he was, but he was also charming, and fun, and…and there you went again, with that silly smile tugging at your lips and those butterflies fluttering in your belly. You tried to stop it, you didn’t want your asshole coworkers to notice that smile on your face.

They hadn’t said anything about yesterday, how they had gone out without you after telling you they’d call you and take you with them, but you had noticed a couple of them talking quietly to each other and looking in your direction.

You were acting as if you hadn’t cared or waited for them. Part of you, though, a big part, wished that you could somehow let them know that you hadn’t been moping alone at home, but that you had actually gone to an Irish pub with two handsome Irish guys, and had kissed one of them who by the way was very attractive. It might be petty, but you really wished you could rub it on their faces, since they were unabashedly talking behind your back, and also telling each other how fun their night had been.

You guessed you’d settle for just ignoring them.

Part of you also couldn’t stop thinking if Murphy and Connor would really call you to go out with them again, or if they wouldn’t think on you anymore…but Murphy had seemed to want to see you again, he had gotten your number…you didn’t care if he didn’t kiss you anymore, you wanted to hang out with him and his brother more. Well, okay, you cared a bit about him wanting to kiss you again or not, and what it might mean, but you tried not to obsess with it. Tried.

You also tried not to have high hopes on the brothers calling you, in case they didn’t, but still, as soon as you were back home from work, you couldn’t stop yourself from running to your phone to check if you had any voicemail…you hadn’t. You let out a sigh, part of you telling you that it was normal, they had work too, and other part warning you to keep your expectations low.

Not much later, though, you were curled up on the sofa, browsing through the tv to try and find something you might like, when your phone rang and you jumped off the sofa and towards it so fast that you’d have been embarrassed by yourself, but you couldn’t care, picking up the phone.

“Hi?”

“Hey, it’s Murphy, from last night.”

“Yes, I remember, uh…how are you?” You cringed at yourself a bit, talking by phone wasn’t your thing, and you didn’t know what to say.

“I’m great, love, and ye?”

“I’m good too, thanks.”

“My brother and I are goin’ to Mc.Ginty’s, the pub from last night, wanna come?”

“Yes…yes, sure I want!” You wondered if you sounded too eager, but you couldn’t help it, you were happy that the brothers wanted to keep hanging with you, that Murphy had phoned you, and those damn butterflies were in your belly again.

“Great, want us to pick ye somewhere?”

“No, no need.” You didn’t want the brothers to have to go out of the way again for you. “I’ll take a cab there, just tell me the street.”

“Ye sure?” Murphy wasn’t sounding very sure himself.

“Yes, it’s fine.” You assured him, and then you heard some muffled voices as if the brothers were talking to each other, before Connor’s voice spoke to you that time.

“Ain’t like he doesn’t trust ye won’t get lost again, lass.” He sounded teasing, and you couldn’t help your snort even if you were a bit embarrassed. You heard what seemed the noise of Murphy hitting his twin and more muffled words, and then his voice again.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay, you’re not wrong.” You chuckled, you knew that you still didn’t know the city well. “But it’s fine, just tell me the name of the street and I’ll be there, can’t get too lost if I’m in a cab.”

“Ye sure, love? We don’t mind pickin’ ye up.”

“I’m sure, Murphy.”

“Alright…”

Murphy gave you not only the address of the pub but also the phone number, just in case. On one hand, you were a bit embarrassed that they thought you might not be able to get there by yourself, but on the other, you appreciated that they seemed to care.

You rushed to get ready, putting a bit more effort than you’d do in your regular day, but not going out of your way like the night before. Once you were ready, you got a cab and made your way to the pub, looking through the window, trying to see if you recognized something, and you did, first the street where Murphy had taken you to get a cab the night before, then the pub’s street as the cab parked at the outside of it.

You thanked and paid the driver and made your way to the pub. Your silly smile was back on your face when you noticed that Murphy was outside. You wondered if he was waiting for you, but maybe he’d just wanted to get some air…

As you made your way to him, you couldn’t help the nervous twirls in your belly. You weren’t sure of how to act around him after he’d kissed you last night, but you tried to tell yourself that he’d been probably just messing with you, and he’d kissed you because it was St. Patrick’s.

Murphy’s eyes found you and when he grinned, your silly smile grew bigger and the nervous twirls of your belly mixed with the butterflies…you tried to control it, not wanting to embarrass yourself.

“Hey, love,” he greeted you, and his grin lighted his face in such a pretty way that you felt you needed to kick your brain so it’d keep working. “Ye made it.”

“Wasn’t too hard considering the cab dropped me right there.” You chuckled shyly, nodding towards the end of the street.

Murphy smirked and nodded, placing his hand on the small of your back, making your skin feel like it was tingling, to walk you into the pub. “Connor’s waiting inside.”

You were surprised by the number of people in there, it wasn’t full by any means, but there were way more people than the night before, talking and laughing together as they drank.  There was even a waitress that you hadn’t seen the night before, smiling and talking to Connor, who was sat down by the bar, as she got him a shot before going to get drinks to more people.

“That’s a lot of people…” You said aloud, and Murphy looked at you and chuckled, arching an eyebrow, and you wondered, mortified, if you sounded like you’d never been to a pub before or something. “I mean, it was almost empty last night.”

“Yeah, rush hour,” Murphy explained, and you nodded, it’d been quite late when you’d finally decided to go out last night, and even later when you got to the pub, which you had noticed the next morning when you almost overslept your alarm. “Wait until you come on the weekend.”

“It’s everyone Irish here?” You asked, feeling a bit out of place. The twins had explained to you that this was an Irish neighborhood, where they also lived.

“Not everyone, but most of them…good people,” Murphy told you, looking around with a fond smile, and you couldn’t help your own smile at it.

“Hey, lass!” Connor greeted you, smiling, once you reached him.

“Nice to see you again.” You smiled as you sat down on a stool next to the twins.

“My brother was waitin’ for ye outside like he could summon ye with the power of his mind,” Connor smirked, looking at Murphy, who scoffed and clipped his twin on the head.

You knew Connor was joking and trying to embarrass his brother, but his words fed the butterflies in your belly nonetheless. “Well, I’m sure that’s the reason why I arrived here with no problem, and not because the cab driver knew the address and the way here,” you joked back, but you smiled at Murphy.

The waitress approached you all again, and she smiled as she rolled her eyes at the twins. “I don’t know how both of ye have any brain left, hittin’ each other on the head all the time.”

“That’s what ma’ used to say,” Murphy said, grinning…he was rather adorable, you found yourself thinking.

“Murph doesn’t have much brain left, I’m afraid…” Connor joked, pretending to sound mournful, and earning another shove from his brother.

The waitress chuckled before smiling at you. “What can I get ye, sweetheart?”

“Uh…whatever they’re having.” You shrugged, you didn’t know what you wanted.

“Okay…don’t let them get you drunk!” The waitress joked as she poured your drinks.

“We ain’t gonna!” Murphy protested.

“If anythin’, it’d be her fault if she can’t handle her alcohol like an Irish!” Connor joked, smiling at you.

“Yeah…I have a feeling that’s gonna be the case…” You chuckled.

It did seem that it was going to be the case, as the MacManus drowned their first and then second drink while you still had drunk just half of yours. Your initial nerves and awkwardness dissipated as the brothers talked.

Hearing them speak, it might seem as if the job in a meatpacking factory was the most entertaining thing in the world, but it was probably only because they were retelling you things about it, and you had the feeling both brothers got up to trouble at work, but they were rather adorable while talking about it.

“So, lass, did yer coworkers say somethin’ ‘bout last night?” Connor asked you, and you shrugged, looking down at your drink.

“Not really… not an apology if that’s what you’re asking…I heard them talking to each other about what they’d been doing and whatnot, but I just pretended that I didn’t care….whatever…”

It was not that you wished you had gone with them, you much rather be with the MacManus, but the fact that they stood you up on purpose and said nothing, and then talked about the night without caring if you heard them, annoyed you. You were a bit surprised when you felt Murphy’s hand squeezing your own.

“They’re just pricks,” he told you. “Those fuckers ain’t worthy, love.”

“I know they’re not.”  You couldn’t help your smile as you looked at Murphy. “I’m glad they didn’t bother on calling me so I met you both, you guys are way better than them…like, by far…” You felt a bit shy at saying that aloud, but you were in fact glad to have met the brothers, who looked like they enjoyed hanging out with you, and so you wanted to say it aloud.

“Thanks, love.” Murphy gave you that smile that gave you the butterflies and made you wonder once more how he could be so handsome.

“It’s the truth.” You smiled bashfully. “I just wish that I could, like, let them know that I wasn’t alone waiting for them, that I went out and met you two and had fun, and…yeah…” You chuckled, feeling a bit self-conscious, you still thought it was a petty thought but you couldn’t help it.

“Why ye didn’t just tell them?” Connor asked you, chuckling too. If the twins thought that your reaction was petty, it didn’t show.

“I don’t know…dunno how.” You shrugged. “Like, do I go and say, hey, I went out and made friends with two Irish guys and we had more fun than either of you all assholes had?”

Connor chuckled again, and Murphy snorted. “Yeah, love, right like that.”

You chuckled too but shook your head, you really didn’t see yourself doing that. Murphy was looking at you intently, making you feel a bit shy, though there was mischief in his eyes and it worried you a bit as you wondered what he was up to.

“What hour do you finish work, lass?” He asked you.

“Uh…five, why?”

Murphy smirked at his brother and told him something in a language you didn’t know, and you looked at them as they talked and stole glances at you, wondering what they were saying…it made you feel a bit nervous and out of place all of a sudden.

“I hope you’re not talking about me…” You half-joked awkwardly and  Connor snorted.

“Told ye it was rude,” he told to his brother, who clipped him on the head before looking at you.

“Nothin’ bad, love.” He smirked. “What if my brother and I go pick ye up from work tomorrow? And we can hang together before comin’ to the pub?”

You blinked at the brothers, taken by surprise. “Don’t you have work too?”

“Don’t worry, lass, we’ll be fine,” Murphy assured you, and you didn’t want the brothers to go out of their way or get in trouble with their boss because of you, but something told you that you wouldn’t be able to change Murphy’s mind if he was set on it.

“You sure?” You frowned.

“Aye.” Murphy nodded, and it was so hard to say no to that grin.

“What, want me to show that I do have friends?” You shrugged, still feeling a bit shy and embarrassed about the whole thing, but you were grateful nonetheless.

“Something like that…” Murphy said, smirking, as he gave you that mischievous smile.

“Sounds like a plan.” Connor nodded too. “We can get somethin’ to eat together before comin’ here.”

It was hard to say no to them when they were looking at you and smiling like that…and honestly, you didn’t want to say no. “Alright…okay.” You nodded, and then looked at the brothers curiously. “So you two come here every night?”

“Aye.” Both brothers nodded. “Pretty much.”

You snorted. “I see.”

“So what did ye do if it ain’t going to the pub, lass?” Murphy asked you with that stupidly cute, bright smile.

“Well…nothing special.” You shrugged bashfully. “Just…read or watch something on tv… I was trying to get into crochet too, actually…”

“Crochet’?” Connor arched an eyebrow at you seeming amused, and you shrugged again, defensively.

“Yeah…People say it’s relaxing, but I guess I’m not good enough yet.” You chuckled. “I guess I like being at home…doesn’t mean I don’t like to go out too, though, I do!” You rushed to say, in case the brothers thought you didn’t like hanging with them, when actually you enjoyed it so much, even if you hadn’t been too outgoing before.

The MacManus really were way more outgoing and extroverted than you, and you were a bit afraid that soon they’d find you boring or anything like that, but as they began telling you stories and things that had happened to them at the pub, you began to relax again, feeling once again how easy it was for you to be around them, and a few stories later, your cheeks felt almost like hurting of smiling and laughing that much.

The twins were troublemakers, that much you had deduced by now, but they didn’t seem like bad people by any means, and you were glad that they had befriended you. It’d been a long while since you had so much fun as you had with them, and even longer since you’d felt so at ease with someone, especially someone who you had just met, but the MacManus made you feel like you three had been friends for a while now, welcoming you so easily, making you feel like they enjoyed your company and like they too had fun with you.

Time seemed to fly, but you tried to keep track of the hour, you knew you shouldn’t go back home too late or you’d regret it in the morning. You didn’t know how the brothers went out every night when they worked too. When you noticed that the pub was getting emptier, you checked your clock. You should be leaving soon, even if you didn’t want to. That night, it’d been only the brothers and you, for now at least, their best friend hadn’t arrived yet, and you’d enjoyed it.

“I should be leaving soon…” You said regretfully. “Isn’t your friend Rocco coming today?” The twins looked at each other before looking at you.

“Later maybe…he had work tonight,” Connor explained vaguely, and considering what Rocco had been talking about the night before, how he seemed to work for the Italian mafia to some extent, you guessed you didn’t want details, and so you nodded curtly without saying anything, not wanting to say the wrong thing and upset the twins.

“I don’t want to…but I have to leave or else I’ll be asleep tomorrow at work.” You let out a sigh.

“Okay, love, we’ll get ye to a cab,” Murphy told you as he and his brother got up.

“No, it’s fine, I can get by myself, I saw before where do I have to go.” Once again, you didn’t want them to go out of their way for you, but they ignored you, walking with you to the door, Murphy’s hand on the small of your back pulling you with them and outside the pub.

You three walked to the street with all the cabs, and you were glad to see that you’d have actually known how to get there by yourself, but you were grateful for the brothers walking you at that hour of the night, besides, it was way more fun to walk while talking with them.

“Thanks, guys, for walking me and for everything, I really had fun,” you told them as you opened the door of a cab smiling.

“Likewise, love,” Murphy said and Connor nodded. “We’ll go pick ye up tomorrow, aye?”

“Alright…don’t feel like you have to…”

“We want to,” Murphy assured you.

“Yes, lass, we’ll be there,” Connor said too.

“Okay…okay, then…see you tomorrow, guys.” You waved at them a bit awkwardly as you got into the cab, smiling when they waved back. They really were cute…

That night, as you tried to sleep, you couldn’t stop thinking about Murphy…he hadn’t kissed you or said anything about having kissed you….you guessed it’d been a St. Patrick thing…you had tried not to have high hopes, but still, you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling a bit disappointed…

It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful that the brothers were your friends and wanted to hang out with you, you were beyond grateful and happy at it, but still…still you’d really hoped that the kiss could have meant something else…something more, maybe…

Letting out a sigh, you tried to stop your mind from wondering about it,  from overthinking, to stop the what-ifs, as you closed your eyes and tried to sleep.

*

I know, I know, not kissy kissy this chapter, but we’ll speed up in the next, I mean, twins have a plan, aye.

If you liked this, reblogs and comments are more than welcome, thanks.

As always, excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

Murphy MacManus taglist, let me know if you want to be (un)tagged:

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[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Warm

Pairing: Kirishima x reader

Warnings: This one’s a little spicy, there’s some implied smut and nudity + kissy kissy (it’s really nothing major tho). Fem!reader (only bc he refers to you as his wife). Hmm, bit of hurt/comfort? Just a bunch of fluffy flirting with dashes of angst and spice (okay maybe a lot of angst)

Author’s Note:

Hello! Here’s the long-ass Kiri fic I’ve been working on! This is actually just loosely based on the request—I really took it and ran I guess 😅. I kept changing my mind with what I wanted to happen until I eventually wound up with this!

Ignore how it’s basically Bath Bomb but with Kirishima

Anyway I hope y’all like it!

-Sugar

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡⋆｡*ﾟ✲*

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡⋆｡*ﾟ✲*

Your consciousness bloomed back into being at the sensation of lips trailing kisses down your shoulders. Daylight pierced into your cracked lids, faintly illuminating your bedroom with the caress of a new sun.

A body pressed up against yours, his broad chest and shoulders wide enough to support the width of your own back. His mouth languidly worked its way over your bare skin; from your back, to your neck, over your shoulder. He moved as if he had all the time in the world, and he was more than willing to spend it all on you.

You hummed and shifted, signaling your newly awakened state. A thick forearm you weren’t previously aware of tightened its grip around your waist, his palm gliding over your stomach and up to your chest. It moved up and down, before finally stopping to give you a gentle squeeze.

“Morning, Eijirou,” you said, a laugh already in your sleep-worn voice.

“Hey, Princess.” His chin slotted in the juncture of your shoulder and neck, his cheek pressing against yours. “Sleep well?” His own voice was so low and quiet and deep in the mornings, making your nerves fire in an odd excitement within you.

“Of course I did,” you smirked, ignoring the stirring in your chest. “I’ve got you.”

He chuckled, and finally a small shiver shot through your body at the sound. “Glad the feeling’s mutual.”

You ducked out from under his chin, turning to your other side in order to face him. His chest pressed against yours as you hugged him back, and you couldn’t help but notice how warm it was under the covers like this. Finally you met his eyes, (E/C) meeting glittering vermillion in the morning sun for a long moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. “I swear, I married an angel.”

Your heart sped from its steady beat, heat climbing the back of your neck. “Eiji!” you mumbled, flustered, hiding your face between his pecs.

He chuckled again, and at this point, you swore he was doing it on purpose. “It’s true. Gorgeous, perfect—what more could I have asked for?”

You smiled against his skin, and you felt his warm hand gently begin to stroke up and down your back. You cuddled in silence for a minute, growing lost in the touch of the other.

“This is nice,” he sighed, drawing you impossibly closer. “I finally get to spend my whole day with you.”

You lifted your head again to look into his face, smirking. “Is your plan to spend it all in bed?”

He shrugged. “That wouldn’t be a bad thing. Think about it—here, finally alone with me, all warm and snuggly? No stress, no responsibilities, just . . . me. And you. It’s been too long since we’ve had something like that.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, perhaps too readily. Eijirou’s face fell. “Hey,” you crooned, taking his cheek in your palm. “I understand you’re busy. You’re out there being the best hero ever. Do you know how proud I am of you? My Red Riot, saving the day out there. It’s worth the wait.”

His ruby eyes glimmered as they affectionately bored into yours, leaning into your touch. “I still feel bad I can’t be here for you like this every day.”

“But then it wouldn’t be as special.” Your thumb stroked his cheekbone, finally pulling him into a kiss. It started out soft, but Eijirou was quick to escalate the gesture. He devoured your lips enthusiastically, just like he always did, licking and nibbling at the skin.

Warm, you couldn’t help but think, as your heart pounded and blood rushed towards your face. Warm as his fingers laced with yours on his cheek, warm as your skin touched without a centimeter separating you.

Kisses with Eijirou were addictive, and once you started, you could scarcely bring yourself to stop. With every push and pull of your lips, it was as if pure joy had flooded your veins. Even after all these years of being together, you basked in the truth that he could still make you feel this way.

His lips pecked the corner of your mouth, then moved down, down to your jaw, then your neck.

“Eiji,” you breathed, a smile tugging your lips up.

He met your eyes again, removing his tongue and teeth just enough to innocently question, “What?”

“I—weren’t we—it really is—” you began, but your brain was already distracted, focusing on the way he sucked and nipped at your skin, moving ever lower.

“Are you actually going to stop me?” he asked, kissing your collarbone.

You gulped. “No.”

It was a few more hours until you got out of bed.

…

“Eiji.”

You spoke his name and tapped him on one shoulder blade, muscled and kissed by the sun. He grumbled, asleep once more, nuzzling closer into your bosom.

“Eijirou, it’s noon,” you said, glancing at your bedside alarm clock and shaking him again.

“So?” he mumbled against your skin.

“So I’m hungry,” you pretended to whine. “Let’s make breakfast. Or lunch. Brunch, yeah.”

He sighed, dramatic, hugging you tight. “But I don’t want to get up.”

“I’ll make us pancakes,” you offered, threading your hands through his soft red hair.

He didn’t move.

“—with extra bacon and sausage,” you added.

He looked up, eyes meeting yours as his chin settled on your chest. “Okay, I’m listening.”

You chuckled, ruffling his bangs and poking at his nose. “Come on, you have to get off of me. We can cuddle again later.”

Eijirou finally straightened, letting you slide out from under him. You both stretched and moved towards your dresser; Kirishima choosing a pair of gray sweatpants while you opted for one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts.

Eijirou trailed after you to the kitchen, leaning against the counter while you rummaged through the fridge for a few ingredients. Within minutes, you had the batter mixed, and you poured it into the hot pan with a satisfying sizzle. Your husband watched with interest from behind, chin perched on your shoulder and arms resting around your waist.

“That one looks nice,” he’d comment every now and then. “Good job, babe.”

His hands stayed ever-present on your body, mostly resting on your shoulders or hips as you finished making breakfast. You ate with him, making light conversation as you plowed through the stack of pancakes and meat.

When you were done, you spent some time catching up around the house. Eijirou helped you wash the dishes and fold and put away the laundry. He insisted on doing it all by your side, happy to chat while you shared effort on the chores.

“How do you keep up with all this?” he asked, setting one of his t-shirts on the bed, freshly folded. “With your job and everything, it’s amazing that you still do so much.”

You shrugged. “I manage. It’s not so bad. And don’t completely discredit yourself, you still help when you can.”

“Well, of course I do,” he said, carrying a pile of clothes to the dresser. “You shouldn’t have to take care of everything by yourself.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “but you have other things to do that’s more important than dusting behind the TV.”

He came back to your side again, putting his arm around your waist and pulling you in so he could kiss your temple. “I’m just thankful you’re here to keep up with the house.”

“And I’m thankful you’re here to spend time with me today.” You popped up on your toes to kiss the corner of his mouth, taking the now-empty laundry basket back to the laundry room.

“Would you like to watch a movie together?” you asked when you were back in the doorway. “The evening is young. We can make a snack and go back to cuddling on the couch. How does that sound, huh?” You grinned and wiggled your eyebrows, trying to sound convincing.

“Sounds perfect to me, babe,” Eijirou said, striding up to where you leaned against the doorframe. “But I think the only snack here is you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ei-JI—AAA!”

He picked you up and slung you over his shoulder, grinning his shark-toothed smile as you laughed.

“I meant popcorn!” you said, pretending to struggle.

Kirishima landed a gentle smack to your behind and made a little pop noise with his mouth.

“Ugh,” you said, going limp.

“Shall we continue to the living room, my lady?” he asked.

“Fine. But I don’t think ladies are supposed to be carried like a sack of potatoes.”

He chuckled, already making his way down the hall. “You’re the finest sack of potatoes I’ve ever seen.”

“Hey!” You landed the softest of punches against his back, still lighthearted in the situation.

He set you down once you were back in the kitchen, going to the pantry to grab a bag of popcorn. You sat on the counter to watch him put it in the microwave.

“I’m always scared I’m going to burn these,” he admitted, grinning sheepishly as he tried to decide on a time to put in.

“I do it for a minute and fifty seconds,” you said, childishly swinging your legs.

He inputted the time as you said, the microwave humming to life as the turntable began to spin. Eijirou turned to you again, moving so he was between your legs. “Now, about my snack.”

You snorted, giggling until he cupped your cheek in his hand. He slotted his lips against yours, pulling your body flush into his. Your hands wandered over his bare skin, tracing the blade of his shoulder before gliding up into his hair. You let your fingers lace through the vibrant red strands, anchoring yourself and pulling him in further. Your legs even went as far as wrapping themselves around his waist, your feet meeting at the small of his back.

Eijirou hummed into your mouth, happy to savor you, glad he was there to hold you. The microwave beeped that it was done and you felt his attention shift momentarily, but soon he was back to cherishing you, getting lost in your taste and your touch. How could he care about anything other than you right now? You were his everything, his world, his reason to be. He kissed you harder, not caring that he was running out of breath. He just wanted more of you, wishing he never had to stop. His hand traced over your thigh, longing for you to somehow be even closer.

The microwave beeped again, impatient that it hadn’t been opened.

“Are you going to get that?” you asked, pulling back.

“Yeah,” he grumbled, but he still insisted on giving you a few more chaste pecks before he moved.

You released him and hopped down, wandering into the living room with your husband right behind you, newly equipped with a steaming bag of popcorn.

“What should we watch?” you mused. “Ooh, how about Star Wars? It’s been a while and I know it’s one of your favorites.”

“Okay,” he said, settling next to you on the couch. It was a good idea. You were right about him liking it, but he’d also seen it enough times that he could place all his focus on you. There was no way he was going to let your little make out session go interrupted like that.

“Why don’t you go turn out the light?” you asked, already turning on the TV.

Eijirou stood, walking up to the switch on the wall. It was then that he felt his phone begin to vibrate in his pocket. He flicked the lights off as he fished out the device. He figured it was junk, but then he saw it was his work contact. His heart began to sink.

“Who’s that?” you asked, apprehensive when you saw the expression that had already come onto his face.

“The agency,” he said, voice low and small.

He wanted to think they were just calling because he’d left something in his office. Or maybe it was a mistake and they hadn’t meant to call him at all. But they wouldn’t contact him on his day off like this if it wasn’t an emergency. Kirishima wasn’t so naïve that he’d think otherwise.

What if he just didn’t answer? What if he ignored it and went back to you? You were the one he wanted to spend time with. This was his evening off—your evening to be together.

But he had a job. He had a responsibility. An innocent person’s life could be at risk. What kind of person—what man, what hero—would he be if he selfishly ignored it? His passion demanded sacrifice, and that was just something he had to live with. He only wished that you weren’t the one who always had to get hurt.

He never knew his thumb to feel so heavy as he pressed receive.

You watched him put the phone to his ear, watched his face fall further as it seemed your collective suspicions were confirmed. He shot you an apologetic glance before he briskly strode off in the direction of your bedroom, still listening to what his secretary was saying on the other end.

You looked back to the TV, the ‘st’ still present in the search field from when you’d typed it in only moments before. Sighing, you turned off the screen, sitting back into the couch.

Maybe he wouldn’t be gone long, you thought, chewing on your lip. Maybe you’d still have time to be together when he got home.

But you knew that it was little more than a lie to yourself. You knew he never came back soon.

The front door slammed shut somewhere else in the house, and you were alone again. You lifted your left hand, examining the glittering rubied ring that rested on your finger. The ring that claimed you as his. The ring that had made you a Kirishima.

You twisted it absentmindedly, appreciating the sensation of friction against your skin. You’d known what you were getting into when you’d accepted the ring. You’d known as soon as he’d gotten down on one knee nearly two years ago. Being wed to a hero wouldn’t be easy. Not only were you in danger just being involved with him, you were also going to be alone a lot.

And even still, you’d accepted. You always cherished every moment you were able to have with him. Every cheesy, teasing joke, every kiss, every time he’d come home to you exhausted and tired and dirty—you still loved it. Because you couldn’t even imagine spending your life with another. Maybe in some other reality, you’d find someone who loved you as much, but here, you wanted Eijirou. No matter what it took, you’d be the one waiting for him to come home. It was your shoulder he’d cry on, your chest he’d fall asleep in, your lips that were there for him to claim. And nothing would change that.

You knew how guilty Kirishima felt about leaving you. He didn’t like that he’d essentially forced you into being his housewife, even though you still had a day job of your own and didn’t really mind.

Being a hero is what he wanted to do his whole life. You saw how passionate he was about his job, all the wide, toothy smiles he’d display to the live TV cameras when he’d win another battle. His job was something he loved, and you wouldn’t dream of getting in the way of it. It wasn’t perfect, nor was heroing as glamorous as some made it out to be. But this was his dream, and you would continue to be his number one fan no matter the circumstances. If only it didn’t have to take him away so much . . . .

You munched on a handful of cooling popcorn—not burnt—wondering what you should do with the rest of your night off. You certainly couldn’t spend it sitting by yourself in the dark.

You stood, stretching. This was nothing new for you, you could be independent. But a part of you couldn’t help but selfishly wish it didn’t have to be this way.

…

Kirishima fumbled to put the key in the lock on your door. He’d done his work for the day, he’d won. But had he really?

God only knew what time it was. The house was dark when he opened the door, stepping in and taking off his boots. He knew the drill by now, setting his duffel bag down to rest in the genkan before trudging through the shadowy rooms of his home. Could he even call it his home? Sometimes he wondered if he was still able to say he lived here.

The bedroom door was cracked open. Eijirou peeked in to see your shadowy form asleep, alone on the large mattress in the masses of blankets. He sighed and toed his way into the guest bathroom where he knew he was less likely to disturb you, cringing when he flicked on the bright light.

He caught a look at himself in the mirror as he stripped off the hoodie he wore to and from work. His hair was a tangled mess, sweat and grime still smeared on his skin. The shower sputtered to life, the din of water droplets hitting tile filling his ears. It was almost comforting; letting his thoughts drown to a low, unpleasant hum beneath the sound.

Water rolled over his skin, washing away what should have been his victory. No one’s life had really been in danger today, but he’d still stopped a villain from potentially destroying someone’s business. Why wasn’t he as happy as he should be?

Kirishima wearily went through the motions of taking a shower. He just wanted to fall into your arms and sleep, but first, maybe he should apologize for ruining your evening together. Had he even said goodbye to you as he rushed out the door?

At least he smelled considerably better when he stepped into the bedroom, changed only into a pair of loose basketball shorts. He walked up to your slumbering form, wondering if you’d wake up if he were to try and take you in his arms.

Eijirou already felt like he was in heaven as soon as he felt the soft mattress under his body. He practically melted under the already warmed blankets, the lids of his eyes suddenly feeling like lead weights when his head met his pillow. His arm draped over your side out of habit, pulling you closer into his chest before he even realized what he was doing. You began to stir, and Kirishima frowned. He hadn’t really wanted to wake you.

“Eiji?” you mumbled, still half asleep.

“It’s me,” he whispered in your ear. “I’m home now.”

You ran your hand over your face. “Did you eat? What time is it?”

“Shh, go back to sleep, honey, don’t worry about me.” Eijirou placed a soft kiss on the skin of your neck, rubbing circles on your midsection in an effort to soothe you back to rest.

“But I do worry about you,” you protested, voice still hushed. “I’m your wife.”

He sighed in defeat. “Alright, I haven’t eaten anything,” he confessed, “but I’ll make sure to get breakfast in the morning. I’m too tired right now, I just need to hold you and sleep.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, already moving to stand. “It’s not good for you to not eat like this. I’ll get up and reheat something for you—”

“I’m fine. Really, please.” He held you down and nuzzled into your neck, not caring about the way your hair tickled his nose with every breath.

You took his hand, lacing his thick fingers with your own. “Did everything go okay?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “They just needed some emergency backup. I’m sorry I ruined movie night.”

“Oh, honey, it isn’t your fault.”

Eijirou sighed again. “I know.”

“I’m not upset with you.”

“You never are,” he mumbled, and there was a strange bitterness to it that made you frown.

“Well, it’s a part of your job—”

“Why can’t you just be angry with me?” he interjected. “Why don’t you hate me for having a job that always takes me away from you?”

You froze at his outburst, shocked. “Eijirou—?”

“I—I’m sorry.” His voice cracked, instantly regretting the way he’d spoken to you. “I shouldn’t have—”

“No, no, baby.” You turned onto your back, shuffling so Kirishima could lay his head on your chest. “There’s something going on. Please talk to me.”

He nuzzled closer into you again, holding you in his arms as your fingers began to twirl around his hair. “I just wish I didn’t have to leave you so much,” he admitted softly. “I want to be here for you.”

“But you love your job, right?”

“Of course I do.” He looked up at you so his chin rested in the valley of your chest. “But I love you more. And I feel like I don’t show that to you enough.”

You brushed his bangs out of his face, your hand moving down so your thumb could stroke his cheek. “Eiji, I know you love me.”

“Yeah . . . ,” he trailed off. “But I want to show you. Every day, like I did when we were younger. I don’t feel like it’s manly for me to leave you here by yourself all these nights, and come home late, and not be around. You deserve better than that. I want to contribute more. I want to be here for you. What if—what if something happened to you and I couldn’t protect you?” His voice seemed to break at the thought, his arms wrapped around you squeezing you even tighter.

You hummed, taking in his laments, fingers still carding through his long red hair. “I know you’re under a lot of pressure right now,” you murmured, hoping to soothe him with your actions, “but you should know by now that I am more than capable of taking care of myself.”

He nodded against your hand, but his shadowed face still looked glum.

“And yes, I miss you and I wish we had more time for each other, but I’m sure that someday it’ll change. Your job is tough right now, Ei, but this is your dream. Every day, you’re doing amazing things and I couldn’t be more proud of you. This is what you want to do in life, right?”

He nodded again. “Of course.”

“Then I’m going to support you. If this is what comes with being a hero, then we’ll just have to . . . adapt. Take things as they come, you know? You’ve got a lot on your plate and I want to help you. I know you doubt yourself sometimes and it only gets worse when you’re tired like this.”

“Mhm,” he agreed, voice a little airy and distant. He took your hand in his and began to press slow kisses to your palms and knuckles. You could see the shine of his eyes becoming more obscured by the droop of his lids.

“Maybe you can try to get a week off next time?” you suggested. “And maybe tell Bakugou to hire better back up so you won’t have to get called in like that.”

“A whole week with you,” he mused, sighing. “I’d get spoiled at that rate.”

You bent forward to kiss his forehead, smirking. “It’s nothing you don’t deserve. Either way, we’ll talk about this later, sleepyhead. You still have to go in tomorrow. Maybe it was a good thing we slept in today.”

He chuckled, turning the both of you on your sides and sliding up so he could have better access to kiss all over your face. You couldn’t help but smile at his gentle, languid movements; still determined to display his love for you even half-asleep.

“This is my favorite part of the day,” he murmured, lips ghosting over your cheek. “Coming home to you. I just feel so . . . comfortable around you.”

“You should,” you said, poking the tip of his nose. “I’m your wife.”

“Yeah. But you’re also like, warm and stuff.”

Was he even still conscious at this point?

“Goodnight, Red.”

“Goodnight, my little lovebug.”

And so you began to drift off with him. You had to admit, it had been cold and lonely sleeping without him. But now his presence overwhelmed you in all the right ways, from his fresh-out-of-the-shower scent to the feeling of his arms caging you in against his chest. You felt comfortable, yes, but also warm. 

So warm.

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡⋆｡*ﾟ✲*

Taglist: @aahilovetheatre​ @basicaegyo​ @hyunmin-1404​ @iiminibattlehero​ @katsugay​ @nabo39​ @pyrofanatic​​ @rainy-skys-and-bright-stars​ @sendhelpimstupid​ @sxngwoos-ash-box​ @xoxopam4​

[persephones-wren]

Assassination Masquerade | Act I (II) | Kaz Brekker x Reader

Warnings: swearing(?), threats(?)

Genre: Unclassified

A/N: I was not expecting the amount of attention I got on my last post- really surprised to see how many people liked it so I just decided to write the second part in one go as a little surprise thing? I dunno, but enjoy :) 

Word Count: 1510

It was winter by the time Kaz had first acknowledged, perhaps even appreciated, your ability to think through things the way he had.

The air was crisp and dirty snow filled the streets, and his office was frustratingly cold as he tried to work on the plan to take the stunning set of pistols for bid at the auction house. His head hurt for the third day in a row, his leg throbbed more than usual, and nothing in the plan came together. Plan A, Inej dies, Plan B, Jesper would be in some deep shit, so on and so forth. He was close to running out of letters.

A knock sounded at the door, and he let out a harsh sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Who is it?”

“It’s Y/N,” your voice called through the door. “I have tea. Nina insisted I give it to you.”

Nina. He had been sporting a headache for the past couple of days, and his mood had considerably worsened, not that he’d think anyone would’ve noticed. His mood was pretty static, and he didn’t talk much to others; there was a small chance they would have noticed his increased temper. Besides, he was always thinking, brooding. A headache didn’t change the way he was that much.

“Tell her to stop worrying about me. I’ll be fine.”

“Even if you are fine, this still seems like good tea. Shame for it to go to waste.”

He rolled his eyes. “Then just leave it out the door, thanks.” “Yeah, sorry, can’t do that, Brekker. I know you hate being coddled, but she wants to make sure you actually drink it.”

“Tell her I will, and that if she doesn’t leave me alone about it, I’m going to go to her personally with more than just some kind words.”

Maybe headaches did worsen his mood noticeably, he mused. Threatening a Heartrender wasn’t above him, but he at least thought about it first.

“Well, I don’t really feel like bringing back the tea and pissing her off. I’d rather your rage later than Nina now.”

Really? That was certainly something he hadn’t expected. Him angry over Nina? What had she threatened you with, a comatose state?

You opened the door timidly and stepped forward, carefully holding the cup and saucer as you continued towards his desk. You pretended the scathing glare he sent your way had no effect on you, and set the tea next to the auction blueprints with a small thump.

“Forget Nina, it’s you who’s going to have a broken arm the next time I see you.”

You gave him a dry smile. “Oh, charismatic Kaz Brekker, Bastard of the Barrel and Leader of the Crows, would you please spare me some mercy from your vengeful wrath? What ever did I do to deserve it?”

What were you doing? Were you an idiot, were you trying to get yourself killed? No one sasses Kaz Brekker, especially not a girl he’s known for two months. You’re fucked in the head. He’s thrown out prized investments the moment they aren’t any use to him. You’re not even an investment, you’re a nobody. He could undo the protection he’d granted at any moment.

“I might kill you. You are, quite possibly, less of a delight than Jesper is.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” a corner of your mouth tips up. His scowl deepens, and you smile sheepishly. You glance over the plans at the desk. “Sorry, sorry. What are you mulling over?”

He chooses to say nothing, sipping the tea and leaning back in his chair, watching you wait for an answer.

Hopefully you’d leave him alone. He was only half kidding about the broken arm.

“Very helpful,” you bite out, and you glance at the plans, running through all the different buildings you know close by. He wouldn’t choose somewhere far, not in the winter. “This is the auction house just a bit outside Ketterdam. You’re planning to steal the pistols. To sell, or for Jesper?”

“What do you think?”

“Probably not to sell, considering if something goes missing at the auction house, it’s high profile,” you conclude. “So what part of the plan are you stuck on?”

“The guard rotations.”

Your face morphs into one of surprise, he never admits where he’s stuck, maybe his headache really had drained him more than you thought. He says nothing more, and watches as the cogs turn in your brain.

The guard rotations. You squint at the paper. They cover all entrances and exits. They move throughout the hallways, and they’ll keep changing locations, meaning that if a rotation of guards doesn’t show up at the right time, the alarm will be raised. You’ll be caught, either in the room or trying to escape the halls.

“Do you know how they move?” you decide to ask.

“Of course.” He crosses his arms, still silent.

“Care to elaborate?” you prompt.

“Not particularly.”

“Alright,” you mutter. “Jackass,” you swear under your breath. He chooses to ignore you, instead looking at the window. Your eyes are still on the blueprints.

You can’t get out if the alarms are raised, meaning that the priority should be to stay undetected. Have Inej go to the roof, and camp out there. You could take out the guards and have two of the crew dress up as the guards. They move with the rotations. Take out the guards three rotations before the door, so that the crew guards the door when the auctioneer finally gets there. Delay, delay, and delay. That’ll give Inej the time to slip in and replace the pistols with shittier guns. Then wait until the rotation of the guards switches to the outside, where the crew could then flee.

“I think I’ve got an idea.”

“Go on, then. I don’t have time to waste, Inej is going to be here with nightly reports any minute.”

“Right,” you swallow. “Get Inej to the roof, on the wall where the pistols are kept. Take out two of the guards and impersonate them for rotations.”

“Can’t do that. They’d find the bodies in the auction room, and alarms would be triggered.”

“Don’t start at the auction room, then,” you reason. “Start three rotations back from the auction room. You can find some cover there, presumably. It’ll be easier to hide bodies there than in an empty room. Moving on,” you continue, “the point is to have two of you guard the door when the auctioneer is there.  You can continuously delay and deny him entry while Inej swaps the guns with worse ones.”

“They’ll know the ones are fake,” he shoots blindly at your plan, but he already knows where this is going. He just wants to see if you get past his counters.

“That doesn’t matter. Even when alarms are triggered, rotations still continue. Two rotations from the auction house, you’ll be in the courtyard. Inej will still be on the roof, if you and Jesper are impersonating guards, then you’ll be outside. As long as you’re convincing enough, you can flee from the courtyard after it’s over, and Inej can meet you there.”

“And if we’re not good enough actors?” he points out.

“If you’re not? You’ve impersonated hundreds of guards. Don’t give me that,” you frown. “We both know that you’ll be a fine guard.” “Will Jesper, though?”

“I don’t know, has he done it before?”

“He has,” Kaz says slowly, “but he’ll need to be on transportation most of the night.”

“Okay, well then, uh…maybe you could take along someone else. Like Wylan.”

There’s another heavy silence as he thinks it over, before another voice rings out.

“All in all, though, it’s not a bad plan. Y/N would certainly be good to take along with us. She could be your second guard.” The shadows step forward, and Inej is there, wearing her signature cloak.

“How the hell do you do that,” you breathe out quietly. “Hi, Inej.”

“Does she know how to fight? And does she know how to act?” Kaz counters, and then their eyes are both on you.

“Scrappily,” you concede. “I’m not great, but I play underhanded. I’ll give you a great chance that I can hurt the guards. Undetected though? Most likely not. And as for acting- I can’t lie to you and say I’m great, but probably passable. I stood guard for Vukovic some of the time.”

“Train with Jesper on how to shoot and Inej will teach you something on how to be quiet. The auction is in two weeks. I’ll finalize the details.”

“I’m going?” you ask.

“Crappy acting I can somewhat deal with. The rest? Depends on how good you are.”

“Okay,” you nod, but even you can hear the muffled undertones of anticipation in your voice.

“Right then,” Kaz nods. “Good that you can be of use. Now. Out.”

Even with his twisted way of saying thank you, there’s a brief look of appreciation from Kaz as you shut the door to his office, a small smile on your face.

[staticscreenwriting]

LOVE LIKE THE MOVIES // BUCKY BARNES // 4

Four - Casablanca

Masterlist

Summary: This is a story of boy meets girl. The boy, Bucky Barnes, finds himself thrown into a world that seems so different from everything he’s ever known. The girl, (Y/N) knows entirely too much about rom-coms and is quite particular about the way she eats her popcorn. Bucky meets (Y/N) a few months after returning to NYC. He knows almost immediately that becoming her friend is inevitable. This is a story of boy meets girl. This is a story about love. (Bucky Barnes x female!Reader // a few spoilers for TFATWS)

“ You dressed up! “

God damnit. He should’ve known. He really should’ve. Sam stands by his side, shit-eating grin splitting his face in two. He should’ve just worn a plain sweater and no one would’ve commented on it.

But then would she look at him with that joyful sparkle in her eyes and that gorgeous smile? Maybe the little dressing up that he did do, and all the teasing comments from Sam, are worth it if means she’ll look at him like that.

“I didn’t dress up.” Doesn’t mean he has to admit it. No now, not ever.

“ Uh, your jeans are cuffed. You’ve never done that!” (Y/N) points out to which Sam chimes in with a loud “that’s what I said!” words dripping with amusement.

“ It’s just my jeans, it’s not a big deal.”

“ And you quiffed your hair!”

Bucky glances towards Sam who stands beside him with the biggest smile any person has ever displayed in all the times humans have walked this earth. His joy at Bucky’s obvious discomfort knowing no boundaries and, if it weren’t at his own expense, Bucky would even find Sam’s amusement quite contagious.

“ You totally did! He totally did! I didn’t even notice. Hi,” he says and shakes (Y/N)’s hand “ I’m Sam.”

“ So nice to meet you, Sam. And you dressed up too! As a sexy Ghostbuster!”

Bucky can basically feel Sam’s ego inflate at those words and he knows, for a fact, he’ll never hear the end of it.

“ That’s right! I am a sexy Ghostbuster. Not a regular one. That’s exactly what I was going for, thank you. Man, I love her already.” Sam says, directed at both, (Y/N) but mostly at Bucky.

“ You look lovely too, by the way,” Sam points out and for the first time since they arrived, Bucky gives himself a moment to take her in entirely. Not just the little things, the twinkle in her eyes, the warm radiance of her smile. Her. All of her.

The blue and white checkered pinafore dress she’s wearing reaches down to her knees, her legs are covered by white knee-high socks and at her feet, a pair of ruby red heels sparkle as the light reflects against them.

She looks beautiful but what really makes Bucky’s heart skip just a tiny fraction of a beat is the fact that he knows who she’s supposed to be and, whether she did it purposefully or not doesn’t matter, he feels included for the first time in so long.

“ You’re Dorothy.” his lips produce words that his brain didn’t sign off on. They just slip out. They hold so much weight that even if he’d acted fast enough, he doesn’t think he would’ve been able to hold them back. They’re so seemingly insignificant but they hold a meaning that Bucky isn’t sure anyone will ever fully comprehend. Steve would’ve but Steve is — not here.

He hopes (Y/N) understands even a small fraction of what it means to him. And when she smiles, he thinks she might.

“ I am. Do you like it?”

“ You look beautiful. “ And she does. She really does.

Sam is grinning away like he’s just heard the best news and Bucky isn’t sure if he prefers this to his outright laughter at his discomfort or not. This smirk seems like some inside joke Bucky doesn’t get. Like Sam knows something he doesn’t.

“ Can I get you guys something to drink? Beers? “

“ That would be great “ Sam replies.

“ Grumpy? “

“ Sure.”

He can’t get drunk, that’s one of the little things the Serum changed about him. It’s not like he’s here to get drunk anyway but to feel the enthusiastic buzz that alcohol can wash through your system, would be nice. He hardly remembers what that felt like.

He’s gonna drink some beer either way though. It gives him the feeling of fitting in, of belonging with the crowd. Even if he knows that’s one big lie. Sometimes you have to lie to yourself to keep your heart from breaking.

Kim isn’t a friend. Not really. She’s a friend of a friend who somehow always tags along whenever (Y/N)’s friend group gets together. She’s never actually invited but she’s always there anyway. Tonight is no exception.

She’s dressed in some kind of last-minute DIY deer costume, one of those that have been popular a few years back on Youtube, and the way she smirks at (Y/N) as she enters the kitchen already makes the metaphorical alarm bells go off in (Y/N)’s head.

“ So, I didn’t know you know celebrities. “

“ What are you talking about, Kim? “

“ Oh, you know! “ Kim announces and slides up next to (Y/N), casually leaning against the kitchen counter. “ Do you think he can do some cool tricks with his metal arm? “

“ Who are you talking about? “

Obviously (Y/N) is well aware of who Kim is talking about. There’s only so many people with metal arms and only one of them finds himself at this very party. Still, she doesn’t give Kim the satisfaction of reacting to her ridiculous comment. Maybe, (Y/N) naively hopes, repeating her question will make Kim realize just how rude and offensive her words really are.

“The winter soldier! Who else. That’s him, isn’t it? “

“ No.”

“ You sure? I’m pretty certain that’s him.”

“ His name is Bucky!” (Y/N) clarifies, fixing Kim with a stare that conveys just how serious this is to her. “ And he is not some kind of circus freak or entertainer or something. He is my friend. “

Kim shrugs her shoulders so casually that it sends shivers of red hot rage through (Y/N)’s body. The audacity of this woman. “ Okay sure but he is the Winter Soldier, right? I don’t know why you’re acting so sensitive right now. Chill, girl.”

“ Fuck you, Kim. You are so disrespectful towards my friend. He’s so sweet and genuine and wonderful and he deserves to be seen for all that he is. He is not here for you to stare at like a caged animal and he sure as hell ain’t here to be reminded of his painful past. If you can’t treat him like a normal person, please leave. “

There’s a look on Kim’s face that (Y/N) hasn’t seen on her before. One of utter disbelief. One that lets her know that this was the last thing Kim was expecting. And for a little moment, a huge wave of triumphant enthusiasm crashes over her.

“ Whatever.” is all Kim replies once the shock has settled. With a pout on her lips, she shuffles out of the kitchen and back into the crowd. (Y/N) can’t tell for sure if she’s leaving but there’s no doubt in her mind that at least she won’t be harassing Bucky anytime soon.

A bitter taste settles on (Y/N) tongue, as she thinks about Kim’s words again. About the sick and twisted thoughts that reduce Bucky to little more than a human animatronic. It’s disgusting and so so sad and she just hopes Bucky hasn’t heard her say those things.

As she steps out of the kitchen and rounds the corner though, her hopes are squashed. There’s the usual pain on his face, the one that’s perpetually etched into his features as Bucky leans against the wall. But mixed in between, there’s something else. A confusing mess of emotions she can’t quite place. She knows though. He’s heard every last word.

“ Robin came over, started talking to Sam about some band I don’t know. Thought I’d come see if you need some help. “

“ Bucky, I — “

“ It’s fine.” He interrupts her. (Y/N) doesn’t think it’s really fine. Sometimes people just get so used to saying they feel fine, they actually start believing it. Only fine is not something you want to feel forever, is it? Fine shouldn’t be a permanent state. Fine should be temporary. A path to good. To great. To happy.

“ You sure? “

“ Yeah. I uh — I appreciate what you said.”

“ Oh sure. And I meant it. You’re my friend and you deserve all the good things life has to offer.”

He doesn’t know if he agrees with that sentiment. No, in fact, he’s sure that he doesn’t agree. While he is free of the pain that bound him to Hydra, he will never be entirely free of the guilt his past has put on him. One, he thinks, makes him undeserving of so many things. Like friends. Like happiness. Like love.

And yet it’s nice to know that other people see in him what he may never see in himself.

“ Now let’s go rescue Sam before Robin ropes him into some kind of wedding preparations.”

She says, hands Bucky a bottle, and then grabs his free hand to pull him towards the other side of the room where Robin, dressed as Jessica Rabbit, gestures around wildly as she talks to Sam.

At first, (Y/N) doesn’t even realize it but then she notices that the hand holding hers feels different. It’s not as soft to the touch as a hand usually is. The glove is warm and smooth under her skin but she wishes she could touch the metal. It’s not some kind of weird, misplaced fetishization or some sensationalism. It’s the fact that the arm is a part of Bucky as much as his eyes or his smile or his perpetual grumpiness. And she wants to know every part of him for they make him who he is, and who he is is wonderful.

3 hours.

It’s been 3 hours since they arrived at the party. 3 hours of music he doesn’t get from artists he doesn’t know. 3 hours of staying painfully sober while everyone around him gets exponentially more drunk. 3 hours of pretending not to notice the looks he’s getting.

3 hours and then it got too much. He’s well aware that this isn’t his time. By all means, he shouldn’t be here. Not like this. Stuck in a body that doesn’t match his actual age. Forever reminded of the fact that he’s not meant to be here. Usually, he tries to ignore that. Tries to learn about new things, tries to understand.

This party puts a mirror right in front of his face though. Makes it painfully obvious that this is not where he belongs.

What a party pooper he is. He’d hate himself. If his old self could see him now, standing alone on a balcony because he didn’t like the music inside. His old self would think of him as a coward. His old self is probably right.

“ Grumpy, what are you doing out here, all by yourself?”

For a second the music from the inside spills through the doors and into the serene night, only to be cut off a second later when (Y/N) steps onto the balcony and closes the door behind her.

“ Are you not having fun? “

“ It’s not that. It’s just —”

Just what? Bucky has no idea how to put it into words. It’s moments like this one where having Steve around would be so helpful. He’d understand and he’d know what to say. Steve always knew what to say. Steve just didn’t know when to shut up.

“ You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Ever.” (Y/N) says and bumps him with her shoulder as she leans against him looking out at the New York skyline.

“ I appreciate it.”

“ I was hoping you’d like my costume,” (Y/N) confesses after a moment. “ I feel like I tell you so much about all these movies you missed out on and I don’t know, maybe it’s silly, but I wanted you to feel in the know for once. Does that make sense? “

Bucky bites his lip for everything he wants to say is not something you tell someone you’ve only just befriended a few weeks ago. Never has he felt the need to spill his heart, with all his sorrows and fears and dreams, to anyone. Not until tonight. But it’s too much to burden her with. He can hardly carry the weight himself. To put it on her would be an awfully selfish thing to do.

So he just nods his head and smiles and he says “thank you” like it doesn’t mean anything when really it means the world.

“ Okay well, since I can’t bring you to the party — “ (Y/N) says and fumbles her phone from her dress pocket “ — I’ll just have to bring the party to you.”

For a moment she just types away on the screen before a familiar tune sounds from the speakers of her phone. A familiar tune, to Bucky. One he remembers dancing to when he was a whole other man.

Glenn Miller’s Moonlight Cocktail fills the air and Bucky’s lips unwillingly lift into a smile.

“ If I remember correctly,” (Y/N) says and reaches out her hand to him “ you owe me a dance.”

Bucky laughs and shakes his head, but grabs a hold of her hand anyway “That’s not how it works. You can’t just say someone owes you something simply because you want it.”

She’s so close now. He can see the lights reflecting in her eyes, can feel her chest lift with every breath she takes.

Here’s the thing about loneliness. After a while, you get used to it. It becomes a part of your life, of yourself, like breathing and sleep. You don’t even realize that you’re missing something. Until one day you’re chest to chest with a beautiful girl who thinks you’re wonderful and worthy of her friendship. And it’s then that you realize how lonely you were and how much it hurts and how much you’ve been missing the touch of another.

“ I’ve always wanted to dance through the night. Ever since I’ve first seen Moulin Rouge in the cinema.” (Y/N) says and they start to slowly but surely sway to the music. It’s tentative steps at first, shy and unsure. Barely there moves but there after all.

Sometimes it’s enough for things to be small. The big moments, the important ones don’t need to be big at all. Some of the most important ones don’t demand a lot of space and yet they take up all the space in your heart.

“ Do you remember your first time seeing a movie at the cinema? “ she asks, looking up at him with her starlight eyes.

It’s not a memory he can recall. It’s one of those that have been lost in the shuffle. Like a sweater you love that’s been lost in the laundry or a picture frame gone missing during a move.

“ I don’t. I do remember my last trip to the cinema though.”

“Yeah? What was it?”

This memory is so vivid, it could’ve happened yesterday. He remembers the old dusty velvet seats. He remembers the propaganda spot shown before the movie, the one that put a feeling in his gut as if he’d just swallowed a sack of bricks, now knowing what was to happen but expecting it. He remembers Ruth Dillinger and her gorgeous blond hair and the way it smelled like soap and flowers. And he remembers the movie.

“ Casablanca. Saw it on a date with a girl.”

“ Aw, you took her on a movie date? Lucky girl. “

“ I don’t know if I’d go that far. I wasn’t half as respectable of a guy back then. Was more interested in sneaking a kiss in the dark than taking her to see a good movie. “

“ Did you do the whole, yawning-arm-around-the-shoulder thing?”

“ Obviously.”

“ Oh, you were just a regular casanova, Mr. Barnes? “

“ For sure. “

New York feels alive with the power of possibility. Of a night being more than a night. Of small moments being big and big moments being so tiny and intimate and small. New York feels alive with emotions. Ones Bucky doesn't understand and couldn’t understand. But either way, he feels happier in that tiny insignificant moment than he had in a long time.

“ I’ve never seen Casablanca.”

At that confession, Bucky pushes away from her a little so he can properly look at her, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“ What? It’s a classic. I have good reasons for not having seen most of your movie recommendations, what’s your excuse? “

She smiles bashfully and shrugs her shoulders “ I really don’t know. I just never got around to it. I feel like it’s such an important movie, it asks for a special occasion. Like seeing it at some fancy cinema or in concert or something. You know? “

Bucky only chuckles before pulling her close for another soft sway around the balcony.

Only the serenity doesn’t last very long as the aggressive drumming of some EDM song penetrates the quiet and Sam steps out onto the balcony.

“ Hi guys, uh — am I interrupting something ?”

“ No, no. That’s alright” (Y/N) exclaims, sounding a little flustered as she pulls away from Bucky and presses pause on her phone, plunging them all in silence.

“ I’m gonna get going in a moment. Need to catch an early flight tomorrow morning. “

“ Aw, so soon? Well okay but it was so nice to meet you Sam. You’re welcome at any future party or just drop in at the diner whenever you’re around.” (Y/N) says and pulls him into a hug.

“ I will don’t worry. Told you, I like you already.”

They share another quick hug before (Y/N) excuses herself to get Sam’s jacket from another room, leaving Sam and Bucky alone on the balcony.

“ Do not say a word!” Bucky orders as he notices yet another grin forming on Sam’s face.

“ I didn’t say anything.”

“ But you want to. I can see it.”

“ What would I possibly say, Buck? That you’ve got it bad? You know that yourself. “

“ It’s not like that.”

“ Okay, if you say so. “ Sam complies and lets another silence fall over them.

That’s until he speaks up yet again “ You dance. Man, I can’t believe it. Hey, can you waltz?”

“ Shut up! “

The party is slowly but surely winding down. A lot of people have left by now.

Some are asleep on the couch. On the floor. Against the wall.

A few are still lingering around, talking in low voices. Slurred words, tired eyes, light hearts.

Bucky tries not to step on anyone as he maneuvers his way around the apartment, trying to find the room where (Y/N) put all the jackets. It’s time for him to go, no matter how much he wants to hold onto the moment. He’s tired and the party is as good as over. And anyway, he hasn’t seen (Y/N) in a while.

“ Psst, Grumpy“

(Y/N) peeks out from behind a door, beckoning him closer. As he steps into the room he’s embraced by a warm amber glow coming from a string of fairy lights that frame one wall.

On her bed, (Y/N) sits and leans against the headboard, balancing a laptop on her legs. The wall behind her is covered in photographs. Some of her, some of people he doesn’t know. There are pictures taken at concerts, theme parks, the beach. She’s smiling in most of them. Happy. Memories of a lifetime forever caught on film.

This, Bucky realizes then, is something he wants. Not right now but eventually. To make memories. Ones that last. Ones that don’t get taken away from him. And someone to make those memories with him.

“ Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you,” Bucky asks as she pats the blanket and he sits down on the bed next to her.

“ I’ve been looking for this movie and I finally found a decent copy we can watch.”

“ Now? “

“ Yes now. It’s supposed to be a really good one. I think you’ll like it. “

Bucky’s tired. He honestly just wants to go home and try to find at least a few hours of sleep. But she does it again, that thing where she smiles and his heart does the weird fluttery thing. And he can’t say no to that. Why would he ever want to say no to that?

So he scoots backward to rest against the headboard as well and his eyes take in the swirly white font on the screen spelling out Casablanca over the black and white image of a map of Africa.

His smile won’t be suppressed anymore. It takes over his face like it belongs right there.

"Thought you were waiting for a special occasion?"

“ I was and I found it. Now, what’s the romantic lesson I can learn from this one? “ (Y/N) asks as her head comes to rest on his right shoulder.

Bucky considers it for a moment, tries to recall exactly what happens. Some details are fuzzy, some lost altogether. But he remembers the core of it all. The love shared between two people.

“ It is about sacrificing the thing you want most in life to make sure the people you love are safe and happy. It’s about putting the one you love above yourself and breaking your own heart in order to keep theirs from breaking. Love is selfless, never selfish. And love is worth it. I think that’s what it’s about. “

“ That’s a lovely sentiment. But so sad too.”

Bucky only nods in agreement and as the title credits roll he wonders if he’ll ever get the chance to really figure out love. To fall for someone and love them so much he’d give up everything to see them happy. Even himself.

Though they call it the city that never sleeps, New York seems to grow tired. It grows calm and quiet and maybe for a second it falls into a slumber in the same way that both Bucky and (Y/N) fall asleep, cuddled up on her bed, while Ingrid Bergman flies away on a plane and Humphry Bogard walks into the black of night.

Bucky hasn’t slept in a bed in months in fear of nightmares and terrors lurking in the dark corner of his mind.

That night he doesn’t have nightmares. In fact that night he dreams. Of slow dancing on a balcony with only the stars bearing witness to the moment. He dreams of red slippers and fairy lights and black and white movies.

That night he doesn’t have nightmares. Only sweet dreams.

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