#turns out kids fucking love it when you’re weird and kind of unenthusiastic

[noctude]

me: im not camp counseling again this summer it was so stressful and exhausting and badly run

camp hiring manager: hi 🥺🥺 we saw you didn’t apply this year… like the deadline passed but ummmm 🥺🥺 we neeeeed your unusual gay ass please come back please 💕💖🌻💝✨

me: omgggg who me?.? i meannnn maybe it wasn’t soooo bad,..,……

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Under A Storm - Bucky Barnes x mystery (f)reader Avenger

Summary: You’ve been in love with Bucky for awhile now, and so has he, what will happen when you reveal your true origins? Will he still love you?

Warning: got some good’ol angst, fluffy times with Bucky I don’t hate you I promise

Masterlist

“I think I’m winning. Just putting that out there.” You quip, not even breaking a sweat as Bucky uses everything in his power to get your arm to budge, even just a little.

“I’m trying...just give me a moment..” Grumbles Bucky as he strains to keep his metal arm from reaching defeat at the end of the table.

For the entirety of the day the two of you have been wandering around the Avengers base with nothing better to do then annoy Tony in his lab, and harass Clint who’s recovering from a broken arm while everyone else is off somewhere in the Netherlands, probably freezing their asses off.

Luckily for you, Steve said this was your vacation week, while Bucky on the other hand was told to hang back while his abdominal scars heal up nice and pretty. And since you could care less about heading down south to some fancy and excessively hot beach all on your lonesome, you’ve decided to keep your friends company. Especially Bucky.

But if you’re being honest with yourself here, you mostly just stayed to spend time with Bucky. Ah yes, that beautifully handsome blue eyed bastard with the metal arm and incredibly good looks paired with an equally as stellar personality.

It’s almost like the universe said “I know you’ve had a hard time down there so here’s this literal angel for you, you’re welcome, lots of love now go and do nothing about it sucker.”

It’s not like you didn’t want to make a move, it’s just, you’re origins are so different from his. In fact, your ass isn’t even from earth! You’re not even an actual human being! Granted you look humanly enough, separate from the fact that you’ve got a beautiful pair of darkly colored curled horns, and eyes the color of fire embers that reflects light due to your nocturnal vision.

But other then those little oddities about yourself, you look pretty normal, even more so when wearing a hoodie and sunglasses. Which has become a staple of your usual street attire in general and even when on missions.

Even with all the mystery that still surrounds you and that you’ve kept hidden within yourself since you’ve met him, Bucky likes having you around anyway, and without a doubt you are his favorite person on the team.

Smiling adoringly, you chuckle while Bucky struggles to pin your arm to the table, while your arm holds his up with little effort due to your inhuman strength.

He’s trying really hard, putting all of his effort and sweat into winning this round, which would be the first if he does happen to win, which you already know won’t be happening today, nor the next week.

“Just give me a moment.” Mutters Bucky through clenched teeth as his metal arm adjusts and readjusts to use as much strength as physically possible by this special Wakandian tech.

Blowing air out of your lips, you casually rest your head against your knuckles on your free hand as you wait for him to finally crack, “Just tap out or I’ll pin you again. And I know how much you hate losing.”

“I’m not tapping out Y/N.” Says Bucky defensively as he focuses all his energy into moving your arm even just an itty bitty inch, something, anything.

“Fine then.” You reply before slamming his metal arm against the table with a loud clang that rings throughout the entire lounging area. He quickly gives you an annoyed look as your face turns into a bright grin.

“I hate you.” Grumbles Bucky as he leans back into the couch.

Snatching your water bottle from the side table, you take a swig before shrugging, “We don’t have room in this house for weak bitches. Barnes I’m sorry to say this but....you’ve gotta go.”

Bucky shakes his head in annoyance before the corners of his eyes begin to crinkle, followed by his beautiful smile and then that contagious laugh. “Y/N I couldn’t make it without you, please be kind.” He pleads jokingly as you set the bottle down.

“I’ll consider your words.” You muse with a dramatic hair flip as he reaches over to take the half empty bottle of water, drinking it all in one long chug that has you memorized for a good ten seconds.

Snapping out of your Bucky-being-unknowingly-hot-without-realizing-it trance, you quickly fake pout, “My water you ass!”

“I’m from Russia so it’s our water.”

“Shut up you just lived there.” You retort before giving him a double take, “And hey.”

“Ah, come on doll let’s go bother Clint again.” Suggests Bucky as he rises to his feet and walks around the table to pull you to yours as well. God all you wanna do is kiss that stupid face of his and shove him back down onto the couch and...

“Hey guys what’s up.” Chirps Clint as Bucky wanders into Tony’s lab, you following right after.

Nodding to him in acknowledgment, you casually shrug while looking around at the various contraptions and work-in-progresses, “Oh you know, the usual.”

“Here to lighten up the place? Things were getting pretty dull.” Confirms Clint just as Tony walks out of the bathroom.

“I heard that. And what? Are we not having fun? Are you not entertained?”

“I’m entertained all right.”

“Exactly.” Points Tony before shifting his attention over to Bucky, “Speaking of entertainment. I need you for a little something out back involving a knife and you throwing it at a couple things I’ve been testing out.”

“He’d love too.” You add with a beaming grin as Bucky turns to glare at you, noticing his agitation you quickly take a step forward and squeeze his shoulders, “Right?”

Pursing his lips together, Bucky turns his head to face an expectant Tony before glaring back down at you, “Sure.”

“Alright great! Just follow me and let’s blow this popsicle stand.” Claps the genius enthusiastically as he gathers a bag full of various materials, making certain to snatch a camera before making for the door. Oh, you’ve gotta watch that tape later.

Releasing your grip from Bucky’s broad shoulders, you hand him a small smile, “Hehe sorry.”

“You owe me you little asshole.” Jokes Bucky with an apprehensive smirk as he swiftly touches your chin affectionately before turning to jog out the door after Tony.

Smiling like a fool in love, you suppress a childish giggle as Clint loudly slurps down a smoothie, “You got it bad kid, you really do.”

Raising a brow at him, you walk over to the swivel chair he’s seated comfortably on and take the free spot on the table nearby, “I’m almost as old as the dinosaurs so don’t call me kid.” You sass, causing him to chuckle.

“Fair point. But still, you’ve got it bad Y/N.” Rolling your ember irises, you let out a huff of air as he grins knowingly, “Decide on telling him anytime soon or are we waiting for something tragic to happen first?”

“I’ll get around to it.” You mutter unenthusiastically as Clint takes another long pause to awkwardly suck down his weirdly colored smoothie.

“Sure. Okay, and I believe the earth is flat.” Snorts Clint, his words absolutely dripping in sarcasm.

Scoffing you throw a dirty cloth at him before letting your head fall into your hands, “It’s too fucking difficult Clint. I’m too goddamn weird.”

“What?” Laughs Clint in bewilderment, genuinely surprised that you would say such a thing considering he’s know you for years and finds that completely false, “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“No it’s true.” You mumble against your palms, “He doesn’t know about everything about me yet, I don’t wanna freak him out just as he’s starting to like me alright.”

“Ah, so he does like you.” Confirms Clint with a knowing nod, “I knew it.”

“Yeah me too.”

Nodding slowly once again, the archer stands and makes the less then 1 foot distance to reach you. Head still in your hands, he gently knocks a fist against one of your horns as you try your best to ignore his existence.

“Knock. Knock. Anyone home?” Asks your friend as he awaits in hope that he can talk some real sense into you about your strong feelings for Bucky. “Please, I know you’re in there Y/N, time to open up.”

Cracking a smile at his theatrics, you slowly release your head from your palms to greet him with an annoyed half glare, “By the way I am not waiting for something terrible to happen. I have my reasons okay.”

“Your reasons being...”

Biting your lip, you pull your legs up to sit cross legged on the table, “You don’t get it Clint, I’m me alright. I’m not from this planet, I’ve got horns, I can sense peoples emotions, and since my mother is Goddess of the Underworld I’m technically herald of bringing this earth to a bloody and violent end!” You shout as he keeps the most irritating of faces on, making your anger rise by the second.

“Isn’t it nice to talk about our feelings.” Replies Clint in the most soothing voice you’ve ever heard, if you weren’t so flustered right now you could probably have laughed.

“Fuck off Clint I’m in love and he doesn’t know that shit part about me.” You grumble with a frown, “Bucky doesn’t know anything.”

“Well...” Wonders Clint for a brief moment, “Maybe he should. I mean you said it yourself, he does have affections for you.”

“Oh I know he does, every time I’m around him he smells like what happiness and love smells like.”

“Which is?”

“Hard to describe in this world, but it’s the best smell in existence.” You admit with the smallest of smiles as you think about Bucky, “Clint why do I have to feel this way? Why does he have to love me? I’m destined for terrible things....or, well...I was, but still.”

Noticing how your eyes have suddenly glossed over, Clint holds your shoulder while giving you a reassuring smile, “Y/N, listen to me. You will never do anything like that, you’re too morally correct and are almost the embodiment of a kitten for that shit anyways. And I know Bucky will love you either way, because he’s Bucky and that man needs a wild woman like you in his life to keep things interesting. You’ll be fine, believe me.”

Shutting your eyes tight, you reveal the tiniest of smiles before looking at Clint, “Maybe you’re not just a pretty face after all. Thanks Clint I needed that.”

Taking a step back, be claps his hands together happily, “Why thank you. I’ve been watching a lot of Ted talks on our higher purpose and motivation recently and you gave me the perfect opportunity to test my insight.”

“Clint you’re ridiculous.” You laugh, “But still, I think it’s time to tell him. I just hope he’s okay after all is said and done because I don’t know what I’d do with myself if he walks away.” You worry.

“Well if he does I make the best margaritas...”

“Shut up.”

——

For the past half an hour your mind has been swimming with worries and thoughts about how Bucky may react when you tell him the full truth of your origins, and possible future that you’ve fought to keep away since you walked into this world.

He’s only a man, a full mortal, but you have grown to love him so much it hurts sometimes.

Your ember eyes watch as the trees sway back and forth with the moody wind who pushes and pulls them back. A storm is on the rise as giant puffy dark clouds appear in the far distance, causing the once sunny day to darken.

You slouch lazily in your comfy plush lounging chair, one that you easily dragged over to the nearest giant window to watch the clouds race by while you wait for Bucky to return. Getting lost in your drifting thoughts in the process.

“Guess we won’t be going for a walk today after all.” Interrupts Bucky from your jumbled mind, your head immediately turns to watch as he walks from the kitchen to your side by the window.

“Yeah, too bad. I’m not that mad though, I like listening to the thunderstorms.” You confirm with a casual shrug.

Bucky smiles down at you, head turning to watch as the wind rushes against the trees, “I guess there is a beauty in the chaos....but hey Y/N, you know what we could do now?”

Chuckling at his excited expression, you tilt your head up, giving him your full undivided attention, “I’m dying to know Buck.” You muse with a cute little smirk that unknowingly caused his heart to jump with happiness.

Breaking out into a shy smile, Bucky quickly runs his fingers through his less then shoulder length hair, “Uh, what do you say to a movie night? With me?” He asks cautiously, hoping you’ll say yes so he gets even the tiniest opportunity to maybe, possibly, cuddle you.

Your eyes shift back to the growing grey clouds as small water droplets flicker against the window, smiling to yourself, you swiftly stand and turn to face him, “That’s a compelling question...” You muse with a lopsided grin, your hand rising to touch the tip of your chin thoughtfully as he leans against the thick window with a bemused smirk, “And since you asked so nicely and look so very polite too, oh I guess it’d be a tragedy and lonesome night if I declined.” You laugh.

“It would be very lonely for sure.” Agrees Bucky, his face suddenly shifting to slight nervousness, “So uh....you in?”

Breaking out into a beaming grin, you playfully roll your eyes, “No shit I’m in.” You quip before walking past him and into the kitchen for a drink, Bucky following close behind.

He stops to lean his torso against the marble countertop as you fill up a glass of water, “Well I wasn’t completely sure, just checking.” He admits with a nervous chuckle. Bucky you are unbelievably adorable.

Finishing your drink, you roll your eyes as he hangs his head in slight embarrassment, “God Buck, it’s a good thing you’re pretty.” You jest, causing his cheeks to dust pink as he rises his head to meet your shimmering irises. You’re so beautiful, he thinks, incredibly glad that you can’t read minds like Wanda.

Little does he know you can sense emotions, smell them even if they’re strong enough; and if Bucky doesn’t just smell of love and absolute joy right. It’s the most adorable thing in the whole entire world, there’s no fucking way you’ll refrain from admitting your feelings tonight. It just wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t.

“Hey I’m trying here.” He protests half defensively, pushing himself off the counter as you walk around and head for the door. He’s at your side in a second, smile on and eyes trained on nothing but you.

Keeping your eyes forward, you bite your lip as he stares, suddenly his metal arm gives you a slight friendly nudge and now you have no choice but to look at his dumb face, “You think I’m pretty?” He wonders with a mischievous smirk.

“Yeah.” You mutter before pushing him to the side as he’s drifted comfortably close to you, “Pretty annoying.” You retort, doing your best to hold in your laughter as he takes offense and grips his chest dramatically.

“Y/N you monster.” Gasps Bucky, mouth a-gap as he watches you casually shrug.

“I am evil and cold blooded what can I say.” You muse back, a smug grin on your lips that Bucky would like nothing more then to kiss right now. Yet he refrains, not today, he needs to gather his courage first.

Turning the corner to the Avengers sleeping quarters, he quickly stops when he realizes none of you know which room to take, tugging at his sleeve you hand him a calming grin, “We’ll watch in mine. You’re bed is too hard anyways.”

“It is not.” He argues.

“It is too.”

“Not.”

“Well it is so shut up.”

“Not.”

Pushing him into his door, you raise a brow at him, “Just get the movie, I’ll be in my room waiting for your annoying ass.”

Shaking his head at your humorous sass, he quickly salutes you before opening up his door, “What are we thinking? Horror? Comedy? Adventure? All three?”

Taking a step forward, you lean in closer to Bucky; almost testing the waters, before lightly pushing him backwards by his strong chest, “Surprise me.” You quip, wiggling your brow once for emphasis. He breaks out into an adorable crooked grin as he watches you leave and close your own door right across from him.

After making record time changing into your comfortable movie watching sweatpants and some ten year old shirt from Nat that says SHIRT in red letters with the R in a dull grey. Yeah, its one of your favorites; you race to turn the tv on as rain pounds against the glass, one flash of lightening strikes in the distance as a knock sounds at your door. Bucky.

Bolting for the door so fast you almost trip on a stray hoodie, you quickly regain your cool before taking a breath and opening up the metal door. You’re immediately greeted with the smiling face of Bucky as he holds a movie and two beers.

Leaning nonchalantly against the door frame you meet him with the chillest guise you can muster, “So, you come here often?”

Bucky instantly chuckles at your amusing antics as a small blush creeps out over his stubbled cheeks, “Only when I’m invited.” He replies before holding up the movie, “Is this one good?” Hell yes, and you’re now in my room.

Snatching it out of his hand you pull him fully into the room by tugging on his red shirt without much warning, he practically stumbles in, quickly regaining his balance while you shut the door and practically swagger over to the bed. Bucky following close behind.

You gracefully jump onto the comfortable mattress and twist into a seated position before grabbing some kind of hand held scanner, Bucky awkwardly shuffling to the bedside as he then moves to find a spot against the headboard as you fumble around with the movie and whatever device is in your hand.

Raising a brow he watches in curiosity, “Uh, Y/N. What exactly is that?”

“A movie scanner made by Tony. I scan said film and boom it translates to the tv no problem. Technology right.”

He nods in understanding as you press some button and suddenly the movie is on the tv screen, set and ready to play, “Woah.” He mumbles, genuinely in awe of the advanced tech of today. And how fast you were able to do that, god you’re just the best, he thinks.

A second later he flinches back as you throw a pillow at his side, “Shit sorry.” You mutter almost shyly while crawling to his side, “Heads up.”

“Yeah thanks for the warning. I’ll sit on the floor next time until you give me the all clear.” Sasses Bucky as you sit, grabbing the pillow and smacking him on the side of his head while also pretending not to notice your little theatric as you turn towards the screen. Very nonchalant.

Bucky on the other hand is left with some disheveled hair and the dumbest smile on his handsome face while you press play and grab a beer from out of his right hand, “I’m gonna take this.” You add before gasping in excitement, “You wanna watch something?! I have a party trick! It’s a good one too, you wanna see!”

“Please.” Snickers Bucky as you turn to face him better. He watches in awe as you raise the bottle to your left horn and in one calculated motion, use the sharp tip to crack open the beer bottle. “Wow.”

“I know right!” You exclaim with excitement, “It took me a week to perfect it. I just kept breaking the bottles neck and then Steve would drink after cause he can’t get drunk so.....uh yeah, you want me to open yours too?”

“I’d be honored.”

After drinking both your beers and watching the movie progress in relative peace, with the occasional gust of wind against the glass and a crack of thunder and lightening here and there. All was going pretty well, Bucky was laying on his one side while you were laying on your stomach totally engrossed in the film until....

Crack! BOOM! Darkness.

“Dammit! They were getting to the best part!” You whine, shifting around to sit while dramatically yelling out your frustration as Bucky turns to lay on his back, suppressing bemused laughter while you curse the shit excuse for efficient electricity in this place.

“It’ll come back on soon.” He inquires, “Guess you’ll just have to talk to me now.”

Snapping your head over to him, you scoff, “Why do I feel like you planned this?”

“I thought you planned this? Considering.....well, I guess I don’t really know.” He says thoughtfully, pausing for a moment before he hums, “We could ask each other questions.”

Y/N this is the absolute perfect opportunity, take it you lovestruck idiot, “Uh, yeah sure....I like knowing things.” You internally cringe, wanting to smack your head for that one; and you thought you could go a full hour without embarrassing yourself. Nope.

Nevertheless, Bucky smiles in the darkness, “Alright uh, let me think.......hmm okay uh.....where are you from? Since I’ve never really asked about that before.”

Well, fuck. I guess he’s going for the big guns straight off the bat.

Biting your lip anxiously, you twist a piece of frayed fabric from your one strange little pillow as you gather your courage to finally tell him everything. This is it, no holding back, “Oh uh.....well......you know I’m not from earth, yes?”

“Yeah, I did know that. The horns.”

“Right, good.” You mutter, your voice wavering with nervousness so much that Bucky sits up and turns to properly look at you even if he can’t really see your face.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He worries, brows furrowing in concern.

Hastily you regain your once dampened composure, “Yes! Yes.....yeah, I’m good. Awesome. Great....”

“Y/N.”

“Yeah.”

“Is it because you had a bad childhood?” Quips Bucky, using your own inside joke against you to help lighten the mood and make you laugh.

Snorting in amusement you smack his arm, Bucky mentally rejoices when he hears the sweet song of your happiness coming back, and the light sting of your always powerful hand.

“I didn’t have a bad childhood Bucky.” You admit, voice suddenly somber and thoughtful, “I didn’t even have a childhood.” Already getting depressing Y/N, nice one.

“oh.”

You shrug, letting out an apprehensive sigh as you look from the window then back to Bucky again, while he tries to watch your every move in the blackness of the room, “Bucky....there’s some things in this world that are so incredibly hard to comprehend and fully understand....you’ve seen the power Wanda can create and the talent of the mind stone inside Visions head. Yes?”

He sits in deep thought at your intriguing words, trying to piece together where you may be going with this, “Of course. What does that have to do with you?”

“I wasn’t actually born like a normal being....rather, I was formed and created by my mothers will and raw power. I was molded by earth, thunder, magic, and chaos.....I am.....well..” You sigh, “I don’t really know.”

“Well that’s......neat.”

Cracking a small smile, you continue on, lest confuse him more, “My mother...which I assume you’re curious about by now. She’s essentially, goddess of the Underworld, keeper of beasts and master of chaos. Some type of divine something, who can really say when I’m not even sure.”

Bucky stays silent for longer then you would like, each extra second making you grow more nervous and regretful for revealing all this to him. Soon enough he answers, “So that means.....Y/N you’re technically a demigod?”

“I guess.”

He pauses for another moment before gently shaking your leg, “Y/N! That is the coolest thing anyone has ever said to me in my entire life.”

“What?” Is he serious?

“You’re a demigod! I’m sitting next to a demigod. Y/N I didn’t think you could be any more amazing then you already are.” Exclaims Bucky in awe as you cover your face in your hands, a flash of lightning illuminating your reaction.

Immediately he stiffens and feels maybe he shouldn’t have reacted that way, “oh, uh.....Y/N? Is that not a good thing?”

“No. Not really.” You mutter sadly.

Bucky frowns, “Please tell me why? Because I think you’re the best person alive and I don’t want you to be upset.”

Releasing your hands from your face, you let out a shaky breath, “It’s why I was created. Not out of love, or the want of a daughter.....she formed me so one day I will turn this world to ruin.”

“Why-I don’t understand?”

“She has made me live among the mortal before, in other realms, other planets very far away from here.....I learn about them, I see how they live, how they treat one another and if she sees that they are terrible and violent to each other through what I tell her....”

“Well, I imprison their world leaders, forcing them witness portals open to the Underworld...where beasts of all ugliness and terror wipe out most of the population.” You reveal, your voice breaking with every word, “I then kill all of them......and turn them to more beasts....hellhounds.....shadow creatures.”

You swallow hard as Bucky takes a moment to process the heavy imagery and story you’ve just told him. You can sense how conflicted he feels, he’s known you as the literal funniest and sweetest person ever; he’s come to fall in love with you even, how could you do such horrible things, “Did you enjoy it.” He asks, voice slightly colder then you would have liked, but you understand.

“It’s all I knew. It’s what she created me for, my only purpose. Her herald of death..I..I can’t say..”

“Did you?” He interrupts, sadness lacing his words now, the anger and disappointment only but a slight simmering in the back of his voice.

Your heart breaks in two, he feels hurt by this news of what you did to others, “I did.” You monster. He’ll never love you now.

The atmosphere is thick with emotional tension, if not for the sound of the raging storm outside, you’re certain you could hear a needle hit the carpet. His breaths are slow and heavy, you can tell he’s deeply conflicted with what to do now, yet he refrains from leaving your side.

“Why did you stop?” Asks Bucky, voice a soft whisper as a flash of lightning illuminates around your sides, ember eyes and two curled horns flashing for a brief moment and your heart sinks when he slightly flinches.

Hanging your head low, you nervously fumble with your hands, “Because I met someone....he reminds me of you actually, I guess I felt...” Biting your lip, you suck in a breath as a stray tear runs down the side of your cheek, “I fell in love....it was a long time ago, before this continent was discovered. He gave me humanity, empathy, and I saw what I was truly doing....I bared witness to the monster I truly was. So I ended it.”

You pause, nothing is said from either one of you for a long time until at last you break the tension, “I don’t deserve forgiveness from anyone. I hate my mother and my only friends are the people here. You don’t have to stay any longer then you want.”

“I want to stay.”

“oh.”

He takes another heavy sigh, “And this whole time I though I was the worst person on the team.” Muses Bucky to your great surprise and puzzlement.

“What? You’re not mad I don’t understand? Not even scared or disappointed...you’re just...uh...”

“I’m what? Y/N what wild thing are you about to tell me now? I cut it off with learning you’re a demigod who caused multiple apocalypse’s.”

Slowly sitting up a bit more, you fold your legs and fully face him as he tries to see you in the darkness, “I can kinda....uh....sense peoples emotions and umm....smell the scent if its strong enough.”

“Can you sense what I feel right now?” Asks Bucky, voice above a whisper though you hear it all the same.

Hugging your sides, you nod, “Yes.” He’s practically ecstatic, he feels relieved and grateful that you have trusted him enough to share something so deep and personal. He smells sweet, better then the most lovely of flowers or most delicious of fruits. He smells of love and hope, paired with a smile that could warm a frozen lake.

Reaching a hand out into the darkness, you quickly take his with yours as he brings his other one in to gently clasp your hands with his, “Don’t believe I would ever leave you Y/N....you mean more to me then anything else in this entire world and I’m honored to be someone so special to you. I hope this isn’t too soon or rushed but uh....I love you.”

The way you subconsciously tighten your grip on his hands is enough to indicate that his words have been well received, “I know Bucky.” You confirm with a small smile, “I love you too.” A second later his lips crash messily against the corner of your lips as he fails to completely find them in the darkness. oh, you idiot.

Smiling into the kiss, you pull him into a fierce hug as your lips move slowly and blissfully against one another, his hands quickly find their way around your waist as yours reach up into his long dark hair that you love so much. Moments after you and Bucky fall in a heap of tangled limbs onto the soft mattress, lips still feverously locked with one another. Soon he begins subconsciously smiling into the kiss which causes you to giggle with amusement for how absolutely adorable he’s being right now.

Confused to your cheerful laughter, Bucky breaks from the kiss to gently beck your cheek before resting his head against yours, “I wish I could see you right now.” Mumbles Bucky as he holds you flush against him.

Kissing his stubbly cheek, you quietly snicker, “I can see you.”

“Let me guess?” Humorously asserts Bucky as his fingers trail casually down and up your back, “You can see in the dark too......this whole time?”

“Yeah.”

“Do I look good?” He wonders.

“I’m gonna faint you’re so hot.”

And with that said does he pull you in for another heated embrace, tonight's defiantly going to go extremely well for you. Without a doubt.

[desiraypark]

Stuck in the Mud

Characters: (Late) 60s!AdamSackler x Joyce (Black/Female OC) x Baby 

Content: New parent blues. Growing pains. Woodstock ‘69.  Y’all know what this picture does to me. 

August 15, 1969

“This is such fucking bullshit...” Adam mumbled. He pounded his fist against the steering wheel. “This is SUCH fucking bullshit!”

Her shirt lifted so that air could hit her belly, Joyce held her hand out the passenger window, letting the smothering air float through her fingers. All afternoon, she listened to Adam complain about everything. While everyone abandoned their cars to join the chaotic fun, Adam and Joyce sat in their borrowed car, bickering like the married couple they were. 

“Look at those fucking idiots still jumping the barricade. The festival is shit, just walk through. Fuckin’ assholes...”

Joyce released an exasperated sigh.

“Say it,” Adam said. “Fuckin’ say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say what’s on your mind.”

“There’s nothing on my mind, Adam.”

Adam scoffed and chewed his lip. “I hate when you fuckin’ do that.”

“Hate when I do what, Adam?”

“Pretend like you’re not mad about shit and then call me by name after every fucking sentence.”

“You know what I am about to get mad about?” Joyce asked.

“What?”

“You fuckin’ cursing at me like I fuckin’ did something to you!”

“I’m not fuckin’ cursing at you!” Adam argued.

“Yes, you fuckin’ are!”

“I’m fuckin’ NOT!!!”

Joyce rolled her eyes and reached behind Adam’s seat. She lifted the lid of the Thermaster cooler and pulled out a sandwich. “You want your sandwich?”

“No.”

Joyce huffed and pulled out a sandwich, a bottle opener, and a bottle of 7Up. First, she opened the soda and took a sip. Then, she pulled the foil away from a lake trout sandwich she’d made the night before. 

“Is that fucking fish?” Adam asked, face contorted.

“Yes, Adam. Yes, it’s fucking fish. You watched my fry the fucking fish last night.”

“I can’t take Ray’s car back smelling like fish!”

Joyce chewed on the inside of her mouth. Then, she grabbed the door handle and climbed out of the car with her food and drink in hand. Suddenly, she appeared in front of the car, and Adam watched her walk down the road. 

“Joyce? Where the fuck are you going?” he called out of the window. Without turning around, Joyce stuck her middle finger up and continued down the road.

ONE MONTH EARLIER

Joyce unlocked the door and stepped into the apartment, contemplative. Adam followed her inside, holding a box of pizza. He kicked the door closed, and Joyce jumped as if a lightbulb had gone off in her head. She rushed to Boots’ bedroom and looked inside the crib. Yes, she did pack Teddy.

“You didn’t fuckin’ forget anything, Joyce!” Adam shouted from the kitchen.

Joyce sighed. “I know.”

Just as she’d turned around, Adam was gliding into the bedroom--a singular step of his equated to two of hers. She wrapped his arms around Joyce’s waist and pulled her close.

“We’re going to go into this kitchen, we’re going to eat this fucking pizza, then we’re going to fuck all night.”

Joyce laughed. “I know the itinerary, Adam.”

“The baby’s fine,” he said.

Joyce looked down, but Adam lifted her face by the chin. “Say it.”

“The baby’s fine,” Joyce repeated. 

“Your sister has two fucking kids, she knows what she’s doing.”

“I know, I know,” Joyce said. She pulled away from Adam’s grip and paced the bedroom. “But what if something happens? What if she gets sick? What if she eats something she’s allergic to and we don’t know she’s allergic to it?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Smalls,” Adam said. He took Joyce’s hand. “Come the fuck on before the food gets cold.”

Adam pulled Joyce through the living room and suddenly, the phone rang.

“Don’t answer it!” he said, tugging on her hand. Joyce pressed her nails into Adam’s wrist.

“Ah! Fuck!”

As she turned on her heels to grab the phone, he smacked her ass. 

“Hello?” Joyce answered. “Hey, Ma.”

Adam rolled his eyes and faked pain--hunching his shoulders and touching his chest.

“I’m doing alright, and you?” Joyce asked, biting down a smile. Adam fell to the floor slowly and dramatically. “Oh, that’s good to hear...”

Joyce covered her mouth as Adam stretched out on the floor, panting and panting until he let his head fall to the side. He closed his eyes and let his tongue hang out like roadkill. 

“We’re doing alright. Laurie is actually over at Jessica’s for the evening...just to give us a little time off...”

Adam opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. Suddenly, he lifted his hands and pressed his fingers against an invisible waist. 

“...well, Ma, I surely don’t want to drive from New York to Philly just to bring my newborn baby for a weekend, and I sure wouldn’t have you and Dad drive all the way up here for it...” Joyce said. Her eyebrows furrowed at the sight before her. 

“Uhhh...” Adam moaned. “Your pussy is still so tight...”

Joyce kicked the coffee table to get Adam’s attention, but he only chuckled. “Well, she’s still a newborn to me...”

Adam began to thrust in the air. “Fuckkkk...am I fucking you good baby?” He increased the pitch of his voice, imitating Joyce. “Yes, baby, yes!”

He lowered his pitch to imitate himself. “How good?”

“I can feel your dick in my belly!” he moaned, imitating Joyce again.

Joyce covered the phone’s mouthpiece and turned her back to Adam. “I don’t know, something weird on TV...well, how about this, how about you two come up here and stay for a weekend, some day?”

Suddenly, Joyce felt the sofa cushion dip behind her. Adam placed soft kisses against her shoulder--bare under the spaghetti straps of her striped tank-top.

“Well, look, Ma--me and Adam are about to eat dinner, I’ll call you back in about an hour?”

“You’ll call her back tomorrow,” Adam whispered. He cleared his throat and leaned over Joyce’s shoulder. “Hi, Mrs. Martin!”

“She said, “Hey, baby”,” Joyce said. She wiggled her shoulder to relieve herself of the pressure of Adam’s chin. “Alright, Ma. Love you. Tell Daddy I said “hey.””

Joyce hung up the phone, turned around, and poked Adam in the chest. “You’re disgusting!”

“Grrrr,” Adam growled. He leaned in to take nibbles at her neck, making her chuckle and squeal. Then, she waved him away.

Just as the two of them rose from the sofa, the phone rang again. 

“Don’t answer it!” Adam shouted.

“It could be Jessica!” Joyce exclaimed. She picked up the phone and Adam scoffed and walked toward the kitchen. “Hello? Hi, Ms. Fran!”

Adam flew out of the kitchen and shook his head from left to right. “Yes, he’s here.”

Adam’s fingers curled, forming the shape of an invisible neck between them. Joyce smiled and held out the phone to her husband. 

DAYS LATER

“You know that arts festival they’ve been talking about?” Adam asked, walking into the kitchen with Boots in his arm. True to her nickname, Laurie “Boots” Sackler began wiggling her toes and kicking her foot, anxious to prove to her parents that she didn’t need them to carry her around anymore. But Adam paid her no mind--he only pulled her closer. 

“Good evening,” Joyce said, flashing Adam a smile as she stirred sauce in a pot. 

Adam leaned in to kiss her on the lips. “Good evening. How was your day?”

“My day was fine. And yours?”

Adam sat at the kitchen table, moving Boots onto the opposite side of him as she tugged at his shirt. “It was great. You know that music festival they’ve been talking about? Music and art?”

“Nope,” Joyce responded. She turned off the stove burner. 

“Well, there’s this arts and music festival coming to White Lake next month...”

“I have no clue where White Lake is...” Joyce responded. She walked to the cupboard and pulled out two ceramic bowls.

“It’s further north. Well, anyway. I got us tickets.”

“Oh, okay. Sounds fun. When is it, what time?” Joyce asked unenthusiastically. “What kind of art, what kind of music?”

“Janis Joplin’s gonna be there. Santana. Creedence Clearwater. Sly and the Family Stone...”

Joyce whirled around with big, bright eyes. “Sly and the Family Stone? Why didn’t you just say that in the beginning?!”

Adam grinned. “Well, it’s a three-day festival...”

“When will Sly and ‘em be there?” Joyce asked, dumping penne noodles into one of the bowls. Then the second.

“The second day I think. But I wanted us to go for all three days...” Adam added carefully. 

Joyce shook her head “no” and placed the pot of strained noodles back on the stove. “I’m not leaving my baby for three days.”

“We can take her with us,” Adam suggested, placing a kiss on Boots’ forehead. 

Joyce sighed and looked at Adam. “How far away is White Lake?”

“Joyce...”

“Yes?” she responded.

Adam stood up and walked over to Joyce, towering over her and staring into her eyes. “Let me take care of everything. I want us to start having fuckin’ fun again.”

Joyce’s neck snapped backward. “We always have fun! What do you mean?”

“We don’t really go out anymore, babe,” Adam said. He paced the kitchen floor with the baby as Joyce finished making their bowls. “We’re still fucking young and we don’t do young shit anymore. 

Joyce carried the bowls of pasta to the table. “Do I make you feel old, Adam?”

Adam’s shoulders fell. “No, honey...it’s just...we got married and had a baby, and now we’re just...stuck. Doing the same shit over and over again. And this wasn’t us before. We were always doing some new, crazy shit...”

Boots grabbed her father’s hair--dark and full like hers. “Now, the craziest shit we do is eat pizza and watch fuckin’ Bonanza with our fuckin’ pants off.” Adam gently pulled Boots’ hand away. 

“I don’t know, Adam. Let me think about it. Okay?”

____________________

August 15, 1969 

“We’re not moving anymore,” a bearded man had shouted down the road with his arms up. He and three other people had climbed out of their car, and he walked the road to warn the people behind him. He paced back toward his own car. “We’re done. We’re stuck.”

People had parked on the side of the road and walked toward the festival. Not Adam. He parked the car and pouted like a child. Hotels and motels were booked, so Boots stayed home. There were no vacancies anywhere near the farm in White Lake. Or Bethel. “Wherever the fuck we are,” Adam had said.

It was hot and sticky--and there had long been calls for rain. The land was already muddy from previous rains. What was supposed to be a two-hour drive felt like an eternity--it seemed that everyone in New York City was headed to the same place at the very same time. This wasn’t what Adam had in mind. This was supposed to be fun--not a fucking headache.

“So, what are we gonna do? Just sit here?” Joyce asked. 

“We were supposed to have a motel room. We’re supposed to be out there with everybody else. We might as well be back in Brooklyn watching the fuckin’ show,” Adam complained. 

Joyce grabbed Adam’s face and kissed him on the lips. “We’re here now. Aren’t we?”

“Yeah, we’re fucking here.”

“Let’s see what all the fuss is about,” Joyce said.

Adam nodded. “Okay. But we’ve got tickets. We’re not gonna be assholes and jump the fuckin’ fences.”

“Okay, baby.” Adam and Joyce walked around for about thirty minutes before irritation took over again. The place was muddy and there was barely room to move. No shelter from the setting sun. They’d barely checked out the art vendors before they made their way back to the car. 

____________________

“Joyce!” Adam called from the window. He hopped out of the car and called down the road again. “Where the fuck are you going?!”

Joyce turned around and walked backwards. “Stop making a scene, Adam!”

Suddenly, the ground under Joyce disappeared. She fell backward--ass first into a pile of mud. 

“Oh, shit,” Adam mumbled. Festival attendees scattered about at their cars covered their chuckles, while others were prepared to step away and help Joyce up. But Adam made it in time. 

“Fucking, shit, Smalls,” he said. Joyce pouted at her lost sandwich and soda and took Adam’s hand. She was halfway up when Adam suddenly broke out into laughter. Unable to control himself, he accidentally let Joyce’s hand go, letting her fall back into the mud.

“Adam!” she cried. 

“Shit, I’m sorry!” 

Adam held out his hand again, but as Joyce grabbed it, she tugged hard to pull him down on the ground with her. Of course, “Smalls” wasn’t big or strong enough to pull him down, but he’d lost his footing and fell forward beside her. This time, making all the onlookers burst into joyous laughter. 

“That’s right, get him!” a woman shouted in the distance. 

“Good old payback!” another said with a laugh. 

Adam and Joyce sat up--two 30-something year-olds--giggling in a pile of mud. 

Hours Later

Adam and Joyce walked the festival grounds with muddy backsides for a couple of hours. They met new people, bought a few pieces of art and jewelry, then made their way back to their car before the expected rain came down. They placed a blanket along the front seat and sat inside with the windows partially rolled down. Rain poured from the clouds and Ravi Shankar’s sitar filled the country night air. 

“I’m sorry,” Adam said after a seemingly never-ending silence.  “I just wanted to do something for you. For us.”

“And I’m enjoying myself, Adam,” Joyce responded. “It’s not ideal. But we said we wanted to do something fun and crazy right?”

“Forty dollars to come to this shit and we can’t even enjoy it. We can’t even see who’s on stage. Smells like fuckin’ piss and balls all over the place. We’ve got mud all over our asses.”

“You’ve put worse things on my ass,” Joyce interrupted. She bit her lip, then released a chuckle. Adam laughed, too. 

“Fuck. Maybe we’re not as young as I thought,” he resigned. 

Joyce sighed and rested her head on Adam’s chest. “Or maybe we’re just comfortable around each other. Maybe there’s nothing wrong with watching Bonanza with no pants on.”

Adam laughed. “Maybe we can spice shit up and fuck on each other every time Hoss gets into a fuckin’ fight.”

“We can watch the show, but if Hoss gets into a bar fight, you have to take your dick out.”

“YES!” Adam agreed excitedly. “And you have to suck it.”

Joyce burst into laughter again. “Blowjobs for Hoss fights, pussy-eating for Little Joe fights.” 

“Fuckin’ deal,” Adam agreed. They laughed together once more, then fell into a comforting silence.

“I’ve got an idea...” Joyce said, breaking the serenity. 

“What?”

She turned Adam’s face toward hers by his chin and kissed him on the lips. Then, she let the tip of her finger trail down his chest. “Let’s do somethin’ crazy right now...”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah...”

“We can’t take Ray’s car back smelling like--”

“You’d better not say smelling like fish!”

Adam laughed. “No, you smell more like sweaty...”

“Don’t you fuckin’ finish that sentence,” Joyce said.

He laughed again--like a mischievous and troublesome kid. Joyce bit her lip and ran her hand along Adam’s thigh. He let his hand slide under her shirt and over her belly. Then, he pulled his hand away, and used both hands to unbutton her top.

[sickly-qt]

Ooh, could you write Ambrose and Liam both coming down with a bug at work (at the same time) and getting home super sick and wanting comfort, and having a 'I'm sorry it's my fault' 'no it's probably mine, I'm sorry' conversation about who brought the bug home in the first place, over the bucket that they end up sharing in bed?

I’ve discovered that I’m physically incapable of writing these two without some sort of sappy ending haha. I hope you like it!

---------------------

<Liam> Hey, how’s your shift going?

<Ambrose> As good as it can be, what are you up to?

<Liam> I’m in a free period, trying to get some grading done but I can’t focus.

<Liam> I feel kind of sick.

<Ambrose> I’m sorry babe. At least you get to go home soon.

<Liam> yeah. I just hope that I can make it to the end of the day, I feel pretty gross.

<Ambrose> ew that sucks. Let me know when you get home, I guess have to go back to doing my job.

<Liam> I will. love you.

<Ambrose> Love you too.

Liam put his phone on his desk, lowering his head into his arms, he really didn’t feel well. The only positive was that this was his last class of the day. The bell rang and the kids started trickling in from the hallway. Liam did very little to look like he didn’t feel like he was going to throw up. None of them seemed to notice. Teenagers, always stuck in their own world.

When the second bell rang Liam stood up, went over what they would be doing and handed out some review packets, before returning to his desk.

He was explaining a question to a pair of kids in front of his desk when a girl walked up to him.

“Mr. Lawrence?” She said quietly.

“Yes, do you need help with something?” he asked, swiveling his chair around to face her.

“I feel really sick, can I go to the bathroom?” She asked, swallowing hard.

She seemed to pale right in front of him and he saw her throat working to keep her stomach in place.

“Just go.” Liam said quickly motioning toward the door. She turned toward the door but it was ultimately too late as she vomited in the trashcan by the door of the classroom.

Liam dropped his head into his hands and sighed, mentally preparing himself to deal with a sick student while also feeling sick himself.

“Okay, everyone calm down.” He said, standing up and walking over to the girl, he picked up the trashcan and handed it to her. “Take this and head down to the nurse, I’ll have someone come down with your things.”

She nodded and walked off, the trashcan hugged to her chest.

“Settle down everybody.” he said again, sitting back out his desk. “Sara can you take Gabby’s things down to the nurse’s office please?”

He looked at the time, it was 5 minutes to the last bell.

“You know what, just go. You guys can go, just don’t get caught wandering the halls.”

The kids packed up and left, Liam watched impatiently waiting for the last kid to leave before he packed up his things and left as well, he could not wait to be home.

~~~

Ambrose was sitting at the nurse’s station trying to get some charting done and to ignore the nagging ache in his stomach. He had felt a bit weird when he left that morning but wrote it off not having had breakfast. The nausea only increased throughout the day and seemed to get worse when Liam told him that he was feeling sick as well.

“Hey, I brought you a diet coke and some pretzels from the cafeteria.” Lauren, another nurse said, handing him the food and drink over his shoulder. He grabbed them and sat them in his lap, opening the coke and taking a small sip.

“Thanks.” He said, leaning back in his chair.

“What’s up with you today, you seem really sluggish.” she asked, leaning against the counter.

“I think I caught something.” Ambrose mumbled. “My boyfriend is sick too.”

“Ew. Well I guess it is flu season, your shift is almost over right?” 

Ambrose looked at his watch and held up two fingers, “2 hours,” he said unenthusiastically. “Speaking of, I should go do my rounds.”

When he returned Lauren was typing away on the computer, he sat down in the chair next to her.

“Oh, hey.” She said, distracted by whatever she was doing. “Uh, Mary said that you could head out early if all of your stuff is done, we’re really slow today.”

“Are you sure?” Ambrose asked, really ready to get out of there.

“Yeah, you only have like 5 rooms today? I can cover for you, I just discharged one of mine.” She turned toward him, “Now, get out of here. You’re literally turning green.”

“Thank you so much, Lauren. If I weren’t gay I could kiss you right now.”

“And if I weren’t gay, I maybe would’ve let you.” She smiled, “Have a nice night Ambrose. Feel Better.”

“I’ll try. Thank you again, I definitely owe you one.”

“I’ll remember that.” She called after him as he made his way to the break room.

~~

 “What’re you doing here, I thought you were done at 6?” Liam asked, when Ambrose walked through the door, dropping all of his things.

“They let me leave early. I got super nauseous.” He said, joining Liam on the couch.

“You and me both.” Liam mumbled, laying his head on Ambrose’s shoulder.

“I’m going to get a shower and then I’m thinking we head to bed?” Ambrose proposed, pressing his cheek into Liam’s hair.

Liam nodded, “Yeah, that sounds really good.”

Liam was already in bed when Ambrose came in and laid down. He crawled under the blankets and wrapped his arms around Liam. 

“I’m sorry you’re sick. I probably brought this home from work.” He mumbled, into Liam’s neck.

“I don’t know if it was from you this time, the kids at school are dropping like flies. I should be apologizing to you.”  Liam replied.

They were both exhausted and even though it was only about 5 o’clock they both drifted off.

Ambrose woke up to the sound of the trashcan scraping on the floor and Liam retching. Once he was awake enough to put the pieces together he sat up, the room spun around him and he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes as he waited for everything to still.

Liam coughed and more liquid splattered into the plastic liner. The sound and smell instantly made Ambrose sick to his stomach. 

“Shit, babe.” He said, rubbing his hand up and down Liam’s back as he tried to keep his own stomach in place.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened.” Liam groaned, spitting into the trash can. “I definitely brought this home from school. I’m sorry.” 

“I could’ve easily brought this home from the hospital Liam, stop apologizing.” Ambrose groaned.

“This is so gross,” Liam whined, looking into the trashcan and gagging again. 

“Yeah, I can take that.” Ambrose said, getting up and taking the bin out of Liam’s hands.

“Thanks, sorry you have to take care of me when you don’t feel well either.” Liam mumbled, laying back down.

Instead of responding Ambrose turned around, promptly puking into the trash can.

“Oh, wow.” he heard Liam say from behind him. The next thing he knew there was a hand on his back, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades. “I’m sorry. I made you sick didn’t I?”

Ambrose lifted his head and sniffled, “For fucks sake Liam, if you apologize one more time.”

“Sorry.” he said timidly, “Shit, okay. Let’s just get to the bathroom or something.” Liam said, ushering Ambrose out of the room.

When they made it to the bathroom, Ambrose sat the bin in the shower planning to deal with it later and sat on the floor.

Liam sat across from him, “This is absolutely ridiculous.” Liam muttered.

“I know, only us right?” Ambrose responded, smirking.

“I feel like this is the appropriate time to tell you that there’s no one I’d rather be puking my guts out together with.” 

“Yes, that’s very comforting to know. The feeling is mutual.”

“Do you think that we can head back to the bedroom?” Liam asked, leaning his head against the bathroom cabinet.

“Yeah,” Ambrose nodded. “That sounds really good about now.

[multifandomforthemostpart]

Ironstrange - Alone

Tony had never cried alone before, and he didn't like it.

—-

There had always been someone there for Tony, someone to pat his back, hold his hands and wipe away his tears. To whisper soft words of comfort, that his world would not be dark forever, sweet nothings and lies that slipped through his broken mind so fast he didn't notice. Who it had been had varied on the time and place. The main four on rotation were Pepper, Bruce, Rhodey and Peter

Yet here he was, slumped against a wall in his basement, sobbing his eyes out. Dum-E had respectfully turned away after he had shouted at him, and FRIDAY was hovering. Tony had come cascading down with a bottle of whiskey in his hand, almost smashing it against the glass. He wasn't drunk, just tipsy, but the consumption was enough to tip him into a bucket full of sadness.

But they weren't here, his four horsemen, to keep him from diving into the darkness of his mind. Pepper was on a business trip in Cali and Rhodes was in Africa doing some volunteer work with the military. Bruce was off world, hopefully with Thor somewhere, and Peter had been whisked away with Aunt May on a brief two week holiday to Australia, where they had promised each other they would have FUN and there would be no spidermanning around Sydney. Tony had packed a suit for him, though, a nanotech unit hidden in his watch, which he had been reassured by Happy that he wore consistently and was taking with him.

"Where are you?" He asked nobody. He wasn't even directing the question at anybody, because he knew where everyone was. He knew that they weren't here, and he was. He knew that he needed mending, but this time he was going to have to mend himself.

Last time he'd been trusted to mend himself, he'd ended up hurting himself more, with a particularly sharp blade in the bathroom that he could create interesting patterns with.

He let out a sob and then covered his mouth immediately.

"Sir, would you like me to contact Miss-" FRIDAY, the ever caring AI, was quick to jump onto Tony's emotions, but he wasn't up for it.

"No, no, Pepper's busy. So's Bruce, Peter and Rhodey. Don't ruin their....their time off," Tony blinked. God. When was the last time he'd had time off? Gotten away from this house, New York. For a break away. It must have been years.

Time off. It was an apt description. Pepper was working - so it wasn't 'time off' per se, but it was time off from looking after Tony and his quirks. Most people's quirks are weird habits, but Tony's are horrifying nightmares and frequent mental breakdowns due to constant panic attacks.

"Should I call 'Capsicle', then?" FRIDAY asked, and Tony's heart lurched.

"NO! No, no please. Don't call him." Tony had had trouble getting over his thing for Captain America, but him stabbing him in the chest with a shield and running off with his childhood boyfriend really drilled the nail into his head. Steve did not want him. Obviously, though, they weren't talking. It was just too awkward. Steve wasn't the kind of person to be comforting anyone with tears, yet alone Tony.

"Miss Romanoff?"

"No," Tony winced as his voice cracked. Crying to Nat, with her blatant spy face. Not a fan.

"Happy?"

"With Peter." Not that the kid knew that....

"Mr Barton?"

"No!"

FRIDAY continued to list people who she thought could be a comfort, until it was just getting ridiculous. She must be pulling random names off the Internet.

"Beyoncé?" was her latest, and Tony let out a laugh.

"Ha!" He wheezed, taking a swig of the whiskey. "Sure she'd love to help me! Anymore?"

"Of course, Sir. I think...Dumbledore."

See, the pensiveness in the AI before suggesting the name should have let him twig what was about to occur, but Tony was still obliviously tipsy and not fully aware of his AI's capabilities. She was playing an intricate game here, and it was working.

"Yes! Yes, call Dumbledore. I think he could give me some solid advice about who to kiss next. Although that childhood crush of his....messy one," Tony rambled to himself. He'd been reading a lot of Harry Potter fanfiction out of pure boredom. Peter had 'accidentally' left the movies here for him to watch, inside was a detailed list of things for him to read, titled 'Mr Stark's list of guilty pleasure reading late at night'.

"Calling Dumbledore," FRIDAY announced, and the phone noise sounded.

"Hilarious," Tony chuckled, but it kept ringing. "FRIDAY? FRIDAY Dumbledore isn't real you can't-" A flash of memory went through Tony's mind, a sudden cold, sobering effect that made him go suddenly very very panicked. "SHIT! FRIDAY! CANCEL! SHIT! CANCEL!"

But a low, sleepy voice came from over the phone. "Hello?" It seemed very unenthusiastically confused. "Stark?"

Shit. Tony had never heard Stephen's Strange's voice when it was sleepy, and he really, really liked it. This is not the time, Tony! You're getting an early onset of an attack, not fantasising over another Avenger!

"Hi," he replied sheepishly, trying desperately to mask the anxiety. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you wrong number, would you?"

"No," Stephen said smoothly, shuffling around as though he was sitting up.

"Well see, I was trying to call Dumbledore," Tony began. Okay he can't do this, he can't mask it, he's going to have to either have a panic attack over the phone or hang up really rudely. Fuck.

"How drunk are you?" Stephen asked.

"I'm not...that drunk," Tony's voice was getting slightly laboured now from breathing so oddly.

"Are you okay?" The doctor seemed genuinely concerned as to his wellbeing. "You sound like you...just did a run or something."

"No, I'm just," Tony gasped. Shit his breath was vanishing and he didn't even know WHY.

"Just?" Stephen prompted. "Stark?"

"I'll," Tony breathed, "'ave to call you back."

And he hung up the phone.

Tears spilling immediately, a bad combination, he failed to regulate his breathing. The four would often try to do it by counting with him, a technique which apparently only worked when he had others with him.

He was trying to ignore the fact that Stephen Strange was an actual Doctor and any Doctor knew basic panic attack symptoms.

Come on, Tony. Come on! One little phone call and all this harm? Can't you tell your body that this time it needs to just fix itself?!"

And then, not even a minute later, there was a warm hand on his shaking body, a comforting low tone murmuring to him. Stephen Strange, Master of the Mystic Arts, Sorcerer Supreme, Former Neurosurgeon, also one of his slightly animosity-filled relationships.

But fuck this wasn't he'd wanted the evening to go down, not at all. There was another bottle of whiskey in the alcohol fridge that he had been planning on consuming, not having to explain himself to a doctor.

"Tony," he muttered gently, and Tony jumped slightly. Hearing the wizard call him by his first name was a privilege that Tony never really got. The doctor began rubbing a hand back and forth on his shoulder as Tony's sobs wracked his body. He didn't even know why he was crying at this point, but he turned to the Sorcerer and buried his head into the man's pyjamas: he hadn't even given himself time to change out of them, which allowed for a rather hot (although blurry, from tears) bed-head look. The hair was stuck up on its ends and Tony relished in the warmth that Strange offered, snuggling in.

"Let's get you to bed," Stephen commanded, picking him up bridal style and looking at him....it wasn't a hateful look, nor exasperated, it was...tender.

FRIDAY and Tony directed Stephen to the right room and he was plonked on the bed, Stephen standing awkwardly next to it. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"The panic attacks? Um...maybe. Can you...lay here with me for the night?"

"Sure," Stephen smiled softly, clambering onto the poster bed and looking at him intently.

"I don't know why I had that one. I'm not scared of you, so maybe it was the thought of upsetting someone this late at night or, or losing you as a friend or maybe just being alone...I don't really know," Tony wasn't slurring his words, but they weren't 100% clear.

"Were you drinking tonight?" Stephen queried, a slight reprimanding mask worn on that worried face.

"Whiskey. I had....about 3/4 of a bottle. It's good stuff, of course."

"And...uh, how long has it been since you've slept?"

Tony grinned, "1."

"1 what? Hour? Day?" Yes, he supposed that would be the normal assumption.

"Month," the doctor's eyes shot up suddenly and he seemed intent on getting Tony to sleep ASAP.

"Don't make me," he warned, holding up a finger very close to the other man's face. "Please," he pouted.

"Nightmares?" Stephen persisted.

"Yup. Bane of my existence, I swear to God."

Tony found himself staring into the wizard's eyes, getting more and more enticed.

If Stephen was Dumbledore....did that make him Grindelwald? If so, did that mean he was the villain, the mass murderer? Fair, he supposed, he had done some pretty bad things. But then again, leaving a child in a neglected home wasn't something he'd done.

What was most exciting was that Stephen was staring back, into those whiskey eyes as though he was reading his soul. He probably was.

They began to gravitate closer together and Tony's cheeks flushed the further he went. Biting the bullet, he decided to just bloody kiss the man.

"Anthony," Stephen whispered when they had separated, in a voice that made him want to capture those pink lips again. Fuck. Stephen.

Wait. Didn't Stephen...have a girlfriend? Was he therefore cheating on her with him?

"Shit- Strange. Christine, your girlfriend. I-I'm sorry, that was a mistake, I apologise. I won't mention it to anyone I'm sorry." Tony panicked.

"Seriously?" Stephen looked at him pointedly. "It's like you've never interacted with me enough."

Well certainly not like this, Tony reflected as Stephen aimed for another kiss. But he wasn't sure he wanted to kiss him if he was keen of the whole thing of adultery...Tony was never a cheater, just a playboy. But if the Doc wanted to settle down...

"Stephen...I-" Tony murmured, pulling away. "I don't feel comfortable doing this with you having a girlfriend."

"Anthony Stark, I'm gay, and single, and have been for several lonely years. That kiss you saw with Christine was her one attempt at her trying to see if I loved her, which I do, but platonically. Please, for the love of God, just kiss me."

And so, they did, not declaring many feelings, just declarations that the other was so hot.

Oh and Tony did whine when Stephen pulled away, taking this circumstance to pull out all the stops, including the pouty face, but all he got was cuddles as Stephen stroked his hair to get him to sleep.

He slept, but it was plagued with tantalisingly dangerous dreams, nightmares he woke up panting from and multiple tosses and turns.

But Stephen stayed.

And maybe, just maybe, Tony thought, maybe he wouldn't be alone anymore.

[friendlylocalwriter]

thank u, next pt. 2

Pairing(s):Timothee Chalamet x fem!reader

Warnings: angst (i love pain what can i say), kind of fluffy? (my idea of fluff is just softer angst fmknfsknfns)

Word Count: 2,043 

author’s note: ok im ACTUALLY back this time LMAO. yall wanted, so yall shall receive. enjoy :-)

p.s. it’s not essential to read part 1 before reading this as i wrote it as a stand alone, but if you want a little more context check out pt. 1! :)

It was early on a cold Sunday morning, and I had just stopped into my local cafe for some much-needed caffeine. I stuffed my frozen fingers into my coat pocket and rushed inside to escape the chilling New York air, and was immediately bombarded with the bustling sounds of the shop.

“The usual?”

I was pulled out of my thoughts and looked up to see the barista smiling widely at me, already plugging in numbers. 

“Yes, Vivian, thanks,” I said softly, fishing out a crumpled ten dollar bill from my pocket. She handed me my change with a bright “Coming right up!”, and a few minutes later I was standing with a bagel and a coffee in my hands, wondering where to eat. 

I ended up deciding on the second-floor seating- the designated study area. It comprised mostly of adults typing away furiously on laptops, quickly downing shots of espresso and periodically letting out exasperated sighs. I sat down at a little table in the back and took a bite of my bagel, people-watching. My eyes laid on two teenagers in the corner seated on a little beanbag chair. The boy’s fluffy hair meshed with the short pixie cut of the girl he was laying beside, both nose deep in a book. The girl pointed at something in the thick novel, and the boy nodded, quickly jotting down something in a journal. Curious, I inch towards them to see if I could get a glimpse at the title, and my body freezes when I read it. “The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe.”

TWO YEARS PRIOR 

“’ The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe? Could you get any more pretentious?”

Timothee let out a hearty laugh as he settled into his chair and brushed his brown locks away from his face., He watched Y/N thumb through the stacks of books arranged haphazardly in his bedroom, lingering on those she found interesting. His eyes trailed down her body, settling on her dirty, doodled-on Converse. 

“Sick shoes,” he chortled, feigning surprise when she flipped him off. 

It was only the second time Timothee and Y/N hung out, and Timothee impulsively asked if she wanted to come over after they spent hours walking around the NYC streets, talking about everything and nothing. He realized how much it sounded like he just wanted to bang her, but (although he did want to do that eventually) he genuinely just ached to spend more time with her. She was funny and blunt and made random weird jokes and just made Tim feel warm and fuzzy all over.

“Huh. Never really pegged you as a self-help book kinda guy,” she muttered, so quietly that Timothee almost couldn’t hear her. But he did.

“Well, what kind of guy do you peg me as?”, he asked, leaning forward in his chair with a grin on his face. Y/N turned around, rolling her eyes when she saw that shit-eating smirk.

“The kind who probably asks every girl he likes to come over to his apartment so they can ��talk about books.’“ she says with air quotes, walking towards him. Timothee rolled his eyes as she stationed himself in front of him, her legs pressed together in between his spread ones. He said nothing, lightly grazing his hand on the fabric of her jeans. 

Y/N looked down at him and instinctively started running her hands through his hair, her nails scratching at his scalp. He looked up at her with a confused yet entertained look on his face.

“I can’t help it, I like your hair” Y/N giggled, letting her hands sit at the back of his neck.

“Well, I like you,” Timothee said, moving his hands from his jeans to her hand, gently interlocking their fingers. Y/N said nothing for a couple of moments and Timothee looked up at her, nervous.

“Shit, that might’ve been too soon, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” 

Timothee’s words were cut off by Y/N pressing her lips against his.

PRESENT TIME

“Hey, lady, your phone is ringing,”

I shook my head and realized that my phone was, indeed, ringing at full volume and every person within a 5-foot vicinity was giving me the death glare. I scrambled to stuff my bagel in my purse and let out a rushed “Sorry!” as I grabbed my coffee and sped down the stairs and out of the cafe. Once I was outside, I let myself rest on the window and looked to see who was calling.

‘An unknown number. Weird,’ I thought. ‘I’m pretty sure I blocked all those telemarketers.’

I answer the phone call with a short “Who’s this?”

The line is silent for a few seconds until I hear something I thought I would never hear again.

“Hey, Y/N it-it’s me, Timothee.”

My breath hitched and soared back into my body. Everything came running forward- the late night talks, getting McDonald’s at 4 A.M, the kisses, the hugs, the night he left. 

Left. He left me.

“What the hell do you want?” I spat. Silence fell again, and I shifted against the cafe window, ready to hang up the phone. Then, I heard a deep sigh through the phone and something I didn’t expect- crying. 

“Please, can we talk in person. I ... need to see you,” he choked out. I shut my eyes hard, feeling tears welling beneath my eyelids. No matter what, him crying always made me cry. Always.

I wasn’t going to crack, though. 

“I don’t deserve this, Tim,” I laughed with no humor. “I just started to get used to having a life again, and you just call me out of nowhere asking to see me? You ruined me, T. I don’t owe you a damn thing.”

“Of course you don’t, that’s not what I meant, I-I’m sorry this was stupid. Sorry, sorry,” he rushed out with a quiet voice and the phone call disconnected. I let my head hang and a shuddered breath left my mouth, trying to wrap my head around what happened in the last minute. 

I knew I didn’t deserve this, so I deleted his number and went on with my life. I found another boy who cherished me, respected me, and loved me. I had kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids. I had peace.

I wish that were the truth.

3 DAYS LATER

Paul Anka’s “Put Your Head on Your Shoulder” was the first thing I heard when I pushed open the double doors to my local diner. The 50s-themed restaurant was a favorite of mine, and the food was to die for. I glanced over at the modern-style jukebox to get a glimpse of the time.

2:14 A.M. Jesus.

The diner was empty, and the bored teen behind the counter looked at me with lazy eyes when I approached him.

“Table for two, please,” I asked kindly, giving him a small smile. 

“You with the weirdo?” he questioned unenthusiastically, pointing over to a booth in the corner. I turned, confused, to see Timothee hunched over a cup of coffee. I felt my pulse quicken when he looked up, his dark eyes meeting mine.

“Yeah, sadly. Thanks,” I mumbled, dragging my feet as I trudged over to the booth. I took in a sharp breath when I saw Timothee up close.

His eyes were bloodshot red, dark circles prominent coating his undereye area. His face was sunken and his cheekbones were a lot more prevalent than I remembered. His billowy shirt barely hung on his frame, his collarbones peeking out from the top. I cringed; he looked so unhealthy and broken that I couldn’t bear to look at him anymore. I settled into my side of the booth and kept my eyes on my hands in my lap.

“I know I look a little rough around the edges,” he muttered, a bashful tone to his voice.

“Well, little isn’t exactly the word I would use,” I joked, not being able to stop myself. Timothee looked up at me and laughed, his hair bouncing along with him. I chuckled along, looking him in the eyes. I’m not sure how many moments passed where we were just gazed at each other, taking it all in.

“Are you guys ready to order, or...,” the teen from before came up to our table with his hands crossed over his chest and an annoyed look on his face.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll take a slice of cherry pie and a root beer,” I said, glancing at Timothee from above the menu to prompt him to order.

“I’ll just take another coffee.”

“Don’t know why’d you come to a diner just for coffee but whatever,” the teen said before snatching our menus and walking away. Timothee shook his head and I couldn’t help but snort at the kid’s actions. 

“He’s probably pissed that we are coming in to eat at two in the morning,” Timothee hypothesized. I hummed in agreement, the smile on my face falling when I remembered the situation I was in. 

An awkward silence took over the booth and I focused my eyes on anything except for the curly haired boy in front of me. 

“Look, Y/N, I know this is kind of shitty for me to ask you out to eat and bring up all these bad memories but I just needed to talk to you. I’m not even asking for forgiveness, or for us to get back together, I just,” his voice trailed off and I peeked at him, his head low and his lips pursed together.

“I feel like shit. Like, absolute shit for what I did to you. Not only did I make the biggest mistake of my life, but I was a huge dick about it. I’m sure nothing I say can ever make it better, but I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. God, I’m so fucking sorry,” he cried, pushing his hair back and violently shaking.

“Christ, Tim, relax, you’re gonna make yourself sick breathing like that,” I hesitantly placed my hand on his face, making him look at me.

“Breathe, T. Breathe”

Timothee closed his eyes as he focused on taking in healthy amounts of air. I moved my hand to take it off of his face and he quickly reached up to put his hand on top of mine, leaving it on his damp cheek. 

“Timothee-”

“I love you, Y/N. With everything I have, every bone in my body,”

“Then why did you cheat on me?”

I think he was shocked I actually brought it up and said those words out loud. I jerked my hand back and put it back in my lap.

“Hmm? That’s why we are here, remember?” I sneered.

He took a big breath and his head bobbed against the back of the booth as he leaned back. 

“Honestly? I have no fucking clue. You had all these great opportunities at university and you were out so much and I felt so... neglected, I guess?”

“So, it’s my fault. Incredible,” I scoffed, grabbing my purse.

“No, no, no, of course not, wait- don’t go yet. Please” he scrambled to grab my hand.

I yanked it back and stood up.

“It was good to see you, Timothee. But I never need to again,” I tried to get out the sentence without crying, but I choked on the last word.

“Please, remember when you said we can fix this? I need us, I need you. I can’t live without you,” he begged, tears flowing down his face. I closed my eyes and exhaled quietly in an effort to catch my breath. In a few quick moves, I pressed my lips against Timothee’s temple, then dug fifteen dollars out of my purse and threw it on the table.

“That should cover the food. Goodbye, Tim,”

My name left Timothee’s mouth multiple times with increasing despair as I turned my back to him, making a beeline for the store. 

“The food’s about to be ready, dude,” the teen behind the counter said as I had the handle on the door. “You can’t wait a couple minutes?”

“Give it to the weirdo for me, please,” I said over my shoulder as I walked into the night, not knowing that would be the last time I’d ever see Timothee. 

[woofools]

Yo/Nightmaster for the ship meme. MWAHAHA

[blows kiss] You’re a gem, buddy.

Kills the Spider:

Whoever gets to it first, I’d imagine. I can’t see either being particularly bothered by spiders. 

Although come with me down this weird-ass path I just inadvertently walked: I was debating with myself whether either of these boys would be scared of spiders, I decided no. 

Unless, my brain interjected, the spider is playing a tiny, funky little horn. Then Yo would be terrified.

And before I could even get a word in edgewise, my mind had already mentally concocted a scene were the aforementioned spider is funking it up on their little horn, Yo is absolutely petrified, and the Night Master is just confused. He’s looking back and forth between the spider and the quaking mass of panda that nearly bowled him over trying to leap into his arms out of terror. He’s trying to articulate his questions (Why does the spider have a horn? Why is Yo so terrified of it? etc.) when Yang meanders over and unenthusiastically squashes the spider.

(Given the universe this is taking place in, the spider’s probably sentient and says something to the effect of “No, please! I have so many dreams!” before Yang boredly chee-hoo-wah’s it with a newspaper. It’ll turn up again like two scenes later with tiny crutches, don’t worry about it.)

The Night Master gives Yang a look that’s pure ??????????? but Yang just says “Long story dude,” and goes back to whatever he was doing.

The only thought the Night Master can force past the blaring confusion currently eating his every thought is ‘there’s something wrong with this family, what kind of trainwreck have I just involved myself with??’

Proposed:

I can’t see either one proposing, nor can I see them having a wedding. 

I can see them ending up married unintentionally through wacky hijinks, though.

This is a universe where an artifact of power is genuinely a toilet brush, right? So it’s really not too far out of the realm of possibility that there’s some off the walls, nonsensical ritual that actually counts as a legally binding marriage in some places, right? Like they end up accidentally elbowing each other in the nose while drinking smoothies and standing under a massive cedar tree and then Dave comes over like “that was a beautiful ceremony.” Turns out that’s actually how tree people get married?? The cedar was actually a justice of the peace??

So anyway as stated this whole ridiculousness is in fact legally binding, but since they got married by Tree Law they can only get divorced by Tree Law, which is basically a gauntlet for Incredibly Difficult and Ridiculous Things. 

Halfway through Yo looks over to the Night Master and just kinda goes, “Hey, d’ya wanna just… stay married?”

And after failing to think of a strong, definite reason why they absolutely shouldn’t, the Night Master goes, “Um… I guess, sure…?”

And then they both dip for like a month for the honeymoon. Hey might as well take the opportunities you’re granted, right?

Kissed the Other First:

If we mean “who pressed their lips together” -first, the Night Master. He was likely trying to play some mind-game, or maybe he meant it as a sort of “Take that!” deal. 

If we mean “who kissed as a display of affection and love” -first, then Yo.

Initiates Things:

The Night Master, by virtue of him being naturally more aggressive than Yo.

Would Leave the Other:

Honey these two have been trying to leave each other since the relationship started. This whole thing is so wrong in so many ways and they refuse to admit the other could ever be good for them, so whenever they separate for the day they try to drop hints that they likely won’t be coming back. Or they imply that if they do see each other again, it’ll be in some sort of death match. 

(And then the next time they meet up, they go out for ice cream or see a movie, or some other hopelessly embarrassing or reputation-crushing thing that neither one of them should ever be seen doing with an enemy.)

Is More Jealous:

The Night Master are you kidding. He’s not the least bit subtle about it either, all denials aside. If he’s jealous it is literally a 3, 2, 1 countdown from the moment he realizes someone’s encroaching on “his” space to the moment he’ll have seemingly teleported over to Yo, “casually” hooked his wings around his shoulders, and started passive-aggressively (or just aggressively, depends on the sitch) tearing down whatever’s invoking his jealousy. 

He’ll defend it as a matter of principle; defending what belongs to him, he doesn’t like other people messing with his things, really anything that sounds villainously appropriate. The truth is that he knows him and Yo are kind of a bizarre match up. He knows that in terms of how “good people” define relationships, he leaves a lot to be desired.

And the thought that Yo might find someone who’s a better match, who he might actually grow to love if he spends enough time with them… really, really scares him.

Is Lazier:

YO. The Night Master has a pretty good record of ragging him into actually getting up and doing something, though. Which Yo’s always initially very grumpy about, but hey turns out moving around helps a little with the depression (that I’m convinced he has). Endorphins, or something. So he can’t stay too mad.

Sends Weird Texts at 3am:

The Night Master again, but it’s not “shitposting” -weird texts. He’s a bat, so he’s actually perfectly awake and functional at 3am. But he knows Yo is not, so he takes the opportunity to have some fun. He’ll send him things like “so if we’re controlled by our brains, and our brains operate solely through sending chemical signals, are our feelings even real? Are we all just an assortment of chemical processes that have deluded ourselves into thinking our existences can be meaningful?” and it’ll fuck Yo up for the rest of the night and he won’t sleep.

If they see each other the next day, Yo will spend nearly the entire meeting glaring, and the Night Master will just beam.

Is More Experienced:

I’d say they’re both the same? Yo dated a lot back in the day, and the Night Master was… well, the friggin Night Master, which I can only presume was a status that would’ve both drawn evil peeps to him and helped bolster any passes he might have made. So yeah I’d say they’re about equal.

…with girls. 

I will die on the hill of Yo being a very repressed gay, so all his past experience is with women. I headcanon the Night Master as a painfully oblivious pan (for no reason other than I can), so ditto the above. NM has a little experience with guys (two or three times, about?) but for the most part those were just sloppy, drunken make-out sessions with people he didn’t soberly care enough about to talk it over with afterwards.

So essentially you have two old dorks who don’t actually know what their doing, trying to gauge what things are different in this scenario vs. what’s the same to what they’re used to. They both end up being awkward a lot, which makes them snicker like kids, because it’s awkward and what are they supposed to do? They don’t actually start getting a handle on things until about six months into the relationship, and by that point they’re too comfortable with just doing whatever awkwardness be damned, to start trying to be “romantic.” So guess what they don’t ever really end up doing?

Said I Love You First:

Yo’s really the only option for this one. The Night Master doesn’t take it well. Evil and Love don’t exactly mix, y’know? This has to be some kind of trap, right? Some foolhardy attempt to make him drop his guard? But Yo wouldn’t do that. Yo likes him, at least, and he wouldn’t do that to people he likes. Or… or would he? Was this whole thing really just a long-game to exploit him, and he fell for it? Except he didn’t- he didn’t fall for it, but spending time with Yo had been… nice… M-maybe Yo was just confused…?

He ends up barking something scathing and hurtful, and when Yo eventually manages to scrape the pieces of his heart up off the floor, he tracks him down to find out just what the fuck that was all about. By the time everything comes out the Night Master is in tears and trying not to hyperventilate, and since he’s not accustomed to being comforted in moments of “weakness” he won’t let Yo get close enough to hold him or help calm him down.

[khuntopia]

✧ drowning [ minchan ]

Summary: Summer in Australia with Minho and three of his buddies. Nothing could go horribly even if the poor boy can't even swim, right?

Pairings: Minho x Lifeguard!Chan

Genre: Fluff.

Length: 4.4K words.

Warnings: Usage of explicit language.

Requested: Pretty much. This was just an idea by @/starryknow on Twitter and I thought it might be nice to write about it. Thank you for the idea, Elle!

A/N: My first imagine book so it would be pretty nice if anyone could give me some advice and what they thought about this short story. Have a nice reading :)

Minho is watching the trees, how they sway in a warming breeze. It is that time when summer begins to blossom into something the body feels as much as the brain when the emotions catch their thermal updrafts.

The boy remembered when he first arrived in Australia on his first day, the heat rained down on them like the breath of hell. It felt as if the sidewalk was hot enough to fry a morning breakfast. It was one brutal day for him.

So when Minho felt the coldness against his face with the wonderful perfume of roses met his nose, he just wants to run around the nearby park from his hotel like a little kid.

He heard the faint sound of chirping above and saw birds soar across the sky. He closed the door from the balcony and turned his body to the opposite way, only to stop his footsteps when he saw his friend, Seo Changbin.

Changbin was wearing dark grey trousers, flat sandals with some stupid looking summer hat, from Minho's point of view.

Minho pulls away from his sunglasses from his face, a displeased look worn on his expression. "What's all of this about, and why are you bringing those surfing board out with this wonderful weather?"

"Oh, it's summer, we're not gonna stay at this neighborhood for the whole week! We're going to the beach, of course, Minho."

"Wait, beach?"

"Yes the beach Minho, go inside and change quickly, you're lucky that Hyunjin just woke up so hurry up!" Changbin repeated, not minding the other boy's expression.

"B-b-but—"

"Argh stop winning! Just go!" Minho was being pushed to go inside the room, causing the door to slammed to his back. Minho sighed, gave up and went to his bedroom to take his swimsuit.

Although he can't swim.

On the other hand, Hyunjin was just going out of his bedroom and seemed unenthusiastic. He too was forced to go. Seungmin followed him behind and grinned like an idiot when he saw Minho's face of horror.

"Remember to bring BB Cream and SPF to protect your perfect skin." Seungmin exaggerated, knowing how much the other guy hated being in the sun exposure.

And he hated that he could only sit while watching the rest having fun.

Minho was sitting on the back of the car, watching the outside's views from the window in the most lifeless in his life. His head was slowly following to the beat of the song played from Changbin's huge speakers.

And of course, if you put Seungmin on the first seat, he would turn on his favorite band Day6 and blast it at a high volume, head bobbing back and forth like a crazy chicken.

At least he was lucky that the passengers didn't look at the young boy and his group of friend weirdly. "This is gonna be the best vacation ever!" Seungmin looked from his back towards grumpy looking Minho.

"Fuck no." Minho cursed.

The rest of the boys chuckled, again, not minding about Minho who was utterly silent on their whole ride to his hell.

The beach was unexpectedly uncrowded, not what they were thinking of. Changbin was proud that he took the boys on the right day to go to the beach. Most of them didn't take much time to prepare, instead, they all started to run straight to the cool water. Leaving the boy-who-cannot-swim and Hyunjin all the kinds of stuff left.

"I wish I could have bought my cats with me."

"You know we can't bring animals on the plane, right? Just enjoy your time here, man, maybe look at the pretty trees or go talk to some local people here." Hyunjin uttered while having trouble smearing his suncream on his back.

"Tsk," said Minho, his voice half a whisper. "I didn't even get 20/100 on that last test. Do you think I'm really capable to talk to them? Stop being stupid, aussieboo, just go play and I'll stay here on my own." He finished.

"Fine." Hyunjin's tone held a warning note. "Don't be bored without my existence."

"I don't need you, shoo!"

"And hey, from what I remember, Changbin also brought his old cheap looking $10 float last week. He prepared a lot actually, so just check his bag."

With that, Hyunjin dashed away and followed the rest of the boys. Minho looked at them, having the fun time of their life, making himself wondering if he should actually try and go in the water. Ugh, he thought. He knows that he wouldn't be able to sit on the burning sand for more than hours, nor is he patient enough to even sit on one spot for even 30 minutes.

"Look at that grandpa running with his unicorn float. I swear this is embarrassing as heck." Seungmin said, but before he could say more, the other boy already came next to their side.

"I knew Changbin had a float but this isn't what I expected it to be. I guess he has been very interested in rainbows and fluffy stuff—oW!"

Hyunjin was hit as he tried to finish his sentence by no other than Changbin. He glared at the innocent-boy, and was trying to defend himself by saying that "It's my sister's old float."

"But you don't even have a sibling."

"Shut up Hyunjin!" Changbin raised his voice.

While the rest of them were arguing about the float, Minho was busy looking at the beautiful scenery of the smooth-looking sand, the local people around talking in their native language and kids building the sandcastle. In the gentle spring sunshine, the boy felt as if he were swimming in the briny aroma.

It wasn't as bad as he thought.

Minho observed every single detail from this beach, however, he stopped right when he saw this lifeguard's face. Right there. That guy had that kind of face to stopped your track, based on Minho's good eyesight. His rich chocolate hair, more like golden brown as the sunlight was hitting his face was slightly tousled and wavy.

The lifeguard seemed somewhere his age, which was pretty nice but the only problem was the language barrier. It was frustrating for Minho, but he kept staring from afar.

"Do you think that we should call him," Seungmin whispered to Changbin, snorting.

Hyunjin also saw what they were both talking about, and quickly swam closer to them and said half-whispered with amusement. "I wonder what he is dreaming about, huh?"

"I mean not gonna lie, that lifeguard is hot."

"Not you too, Changbin!"

Changbin shook his head in denial. "Nah, I don't believe on love at first sight."

But his word was drowned out by the sea of laughter, which confused Minho, who wasn't listening to their conversation since the beginning. Hyunjin noticed his confusion and quickly asked:

"So hyung, when are you planning to take him out?"

Minho blink. He knew exactly what they were all talking about. Him, that lifeguard. That handsome effing lifeguard. What should he say, that he was only looking at the coconut tree stupidly? Nah, that'd be way too obvious. He would rather be honest.

"I wish, but language barrier, guys." He said with a straightforward tone yet it seemed very dejected. It was easy to find a lover for him, it's just that he's not interested in girls.

The rest of them nodded, all disappointed.

"Hey but don't be too sad, you still have us here, we're enough handsome for you to look every single day, am I right?" Changbin smirk as Minho just laughed silently. It was true, they were pretty enough to complete his life.

Till then, Minho didn't think of him much.

"Hey guys, I think I saw an ice cream truck inside that place earlier. Should we go get some?"

"Is Changbin paying?"

"No! Last to arrive there is paying."

"Seems fine with us."

Just then, everyone started dashing to the shore, leaving Minho on his float alone. "Yah! Yah! This is unfair!" He kept screaming, not even moving an inch because it would be useless in anyway.

The rest were staying on the sand, making grimaces from afar like little kids. Minho sighed. It was what he had to deal with them every single day, so why was he even mad at this point.

He slowly tries and moves his hand, trying to get closer to the edge of the beach. When suddenly, he felt his surrounding less heavy and somewhat more weird than usual. Minho looked at the float, and quickly understand the situation.

Drowning, he was drowning.

Shit shit shit shit! Not now.. he thought, his hand was starting to panic as he tries to at least swim somewhere near the shore. His legs were trying to move along, but nothing worked. His body gave up on trying.

Minho couldn't hear exactly what was going on, sounds from above the water were muffled from down here. His eyes were starting to give up too. This is probably the end, was what he was thinking of.

On a matter of second, Minho was quickly pulled out of the water by two strong hands grabbing his arms.

The three boys were standing next to the lifeguard as he just got out of the water, holding Minho on his arm.

"Darn it Changbin, you shouldn't have bought that float for $10! Your rich ass could buy a slipper for millions of bucks, but not for a float?!"

"Hey, that's not my fault! And for your information, it's not even me that bought those."

"Can you all shush, please? Minho is literally unconscious and y' all are here arguing about a float? I'm supposed to be the youngest and most childish but it's actually the two of you?"

Hyunjin and Changbin were silent as they both watched the older one lay down on the sand. The handsome lifeguard pinched Minho's nose and was doing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation as Seungmin was sheepishly smiling.

"Now look at the childish one, smiling at someone doing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation."

"If we told Minho that his hot lifeguard was saving his life by doing this, he would probably faint for another time." Seungmin chuckled. Their whole conversation has been in Korean, although they didn't expect that their words could change everything.

The lifeguard, named Chan, was trying not to react to their words. He was flustered and also surprised that they were speaking Korean right in front of him, who also had the same nationality as them. He tried to focus on the unconscious guy but just got more clumsy instead.

He just kept focusing on Minho's face more.

Luckily, Minho coughed out a huge amount of water and was now conscious, just a bit nauseous and very confused.

"Uh-uh—"

"Are you okay?" His voice was soft, compared with how huge and muscular he was. Minho was even more confused and very very flustered.

Minho swore to himself that he didn't mean nor want to stare at him in the eyes for that long. To the point that his mouth almost dropped open at the sight in front of him.

With all of his effort, he answered with his broken English."I'm okay"

"Can you walk?"

"Yes—" Minho started to stand up and run away immediately at this point, only to fall down again, luckily it didn't hurt as much since there was the sand.

He wanted to say that his leg hurt in English, but couldn't found the exact word. He hated Seungmin for not helping him when he's just right at the lifeguard's back. However, to his surprise, Chan got his back.

"I think you have leg cramps?" Chan asked, this time, in the language they both understand, Korean. At that moment, the three other was the one who was now shocked. They looked at each other, eyes fully wide, mouth opened, soon regretting everything they said.

Minho's heart was beating a mile per minute, the guy's voice was amazingly attractive. And someone with a striking look with a beautiful voice speaking in his native language, it feels like an angel singing.

"Ah-ah-ah yes! You speak Korean?"

"Yeah, I lived in Korea for some years actually." Chan smiled, which seemed so genuinely sweet.

And another striking moment.

Not for Minho though, but for the three other guys, wondering how they will have to tell the other one what they just did. They knew Chan heard what they said, and regretted it.

They didn't even care how cute the contact between the two older boys was, even if they were literally staring death in the eyes, but just how screwed they would be if the now-conscious boy knew the secret.

Loverboy and his lifeguard were having a small little talk, for about 10 minutes about things like their vacation, Chan's life of being a lifeguard, before parting different ways.

"I'm praying for the both of you, Changbin and Seungmin, especially you, little one," Hyunjin whispered, pointing at the Seungmin

Seungmin breath out heavily. "Maybe you can start planning my soon-to-be-funeral."

"Seungmin did what?"

"Don't act like you're deaf, Minho, he literally said what I just said to your lifeguard!"

"Hyunjin, you have such a big mouth, won't you ever learn how to shut up?"

Seungmin looks over at Hyunjin and wishes he could smack him in the face, glaring at him as if someone just stole his favorite toys. Changbin wished he could say something to comfort Minho, who looked surprisingly normal.

"I mean," Seungmin clarified, "it's not like I knew the guy spoke Korean, if I did, I would keep my mouth shut, unlike Hyunjin here!"

Changbin looked hugely entertained at their fighting, although his look changed to an alarming sort of way as he saw Minho leaving their car, whispering "I'm going to buy a coffee, I'll be back." The two boys were still bickering about themselves as usual.

Minho wasn't actually mad at them, or even Seungmin, instead, he kept imagining the scene Chan doing that mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, or even kiss him on the lips. It made him crazy just to think of it, and afraid that the boys would think he's a weirdo, Minho decided it would be a nice idea to go breathe some fresh air.

He heard noises of someone panting and running footsteps towards him. He stopped in front of a narrow door of the coffee shop before that person grabs his shoulder. He knew that person is none other than Changbin. "Hey," he muttered, exchanging a glance with Minho. "Is everything alright there, hyung?"

Minho shook his head as if to say I don't know.

"Okay look Changbin, I'm fine, it's just that, I hate to feel that I have to leave Australia and.. and that lifeguard guy." Changbin looked up, completely silent.

"I hate that I'm like this, Changbin. I hate that I'm so desperate over a guy I just met."

"I saw that the both of you had a nice conversation afterward, why didn't you ask for his numbers?" Changbin asked.

Minho stopped for a second, before answering. "You have a point, but have you seen the number of people who had rejected me? I'm honestly scared, Changbin."

Changbin felt a flicker of sympathy for him. It was true, Minho had been fighting over this for a while, and it was honestly not easy for him to watch his friend, feeling neglected. There was a moment of quiet and peace between the two boys. Changbin wanted to open his mouth to say something but completely forgotten it as he saw the one and only prince charming of Lee Minho, entering that shop they were about to go in.

This time, to make sure that Chan won't hear anything, Changbin half-whispered into Minho's ear. "There goes your chance, pretty boy, either you say it now, or it's over. I believe in you, hyung, I know that you can do it and if the guy even dares say a word about you, it's over for him, okay?" He insisted, trying to sound as calm as possible.

"Also bring me a latte, that would be nice."

"Al-alright." His voice broke unevenly with a very trembling hand. Minho had never been this hesitant before, so before he entered the shop, he let out a shaky breath. The dread and anxiety deadened his mind and body.

He is right next to that fucking counter where I have to order my drink, what a perfect way to start the plan, he thought. Being so cautious and nervous, Minho ran with high speed and ordered right away as he almost startled the old lady, probably the manager of the shop. While opening his mouth, he noticed the intense stare on Chan's face.

Wet brown tendrils of hair clung to his forehead and cheeks, droplets trekking down his jaw to drip from his chin. His eyes, especially his eyes, were stained with the color of hot chocolate on a cold, winter night that wraps around you like a blanket; engulfs you in its warmth and makes you feel at home. Minho stuttered for a second.

"I-I would like two lattes and..and.. 2 Coca Cola please."

"Sure darling, you can wait on this table here—"

Before the woman could finish her sentence, Minho already ran outside to Changbin's side, whirled to face him more than he ever thought he would. "Okay look Changbin, I confessed to people but it was only through social media—not face to face after meeting for 10 minutes. You know that I'm very introverted so—"

Changbin, to reassure his friend, this time, he holds both of his hand, saying, "Look, Minho. I was like you before, hyung. So coy and reluctant when it comes to these things. I remembered when I confessed to my boyfriend it felt like I was going on my final test. At some point, you just have to try, although there's a chance it would.. fail."

"Even if he would reject you, it will be the past, and if he did, it would just prove him as someone terrible for not even giving my wonderful friend that's right in front of me a chance." This time, Changbin's voice seemed a lot more comforting, adding that lovely smile of his, it boosts Minho's confidence.

When Minho felt that he was ready, before going inside one last time, he turned to Changbin, giving an assuring grin. "Also, Changbin."

"Hm?"

"I have to agree that your boyfriend Felix really deserve you after all, and thank you." Changbin suppressed with a smile, his blush seared through his cheeks and for a second, it was hot pink.

Going inside again felt exactly like Changbin described, it felt like on your final test. The lady still was still making the last drink while Chan—Minho could only see his back, huge shoulder. He noticed that the boy was just that he was writing something on a piece of paper.

Minho only stood there, watching what was going on. Later, when he finished writing his note, he gave it to the old lady, who sheepishly smiled back at him. Chan suddenly turned his back and saw Minho who was already walking to him.

"Thank you, how much is it for?"

"$12, dear."

Chan turned to his direction, making eye contact at the boy in front of him. Minho hands were trembling, although his tone remained calm. Both were looking in the eyes for a good five seconds. Before Chan said anything, he did a little awkward cough and said:

"Hey, so you're going to leave Australia soon?"

Minho shook his head. "In a week, actually."

Chan hummed in response. "Well, I guess I won't see you around soon, so... I guess.. this is goodbye?"

Minho opened his mouth but was stopped when Chan shot upright from his seat, approaching the other boy the closest they've ever been. Chan gave him a wistful look. "Must.. you go..? I was honestly hoping that you would stay here for a while."

Minho was frozen on the same spot.

"Well, I don't want you to go, honestly," Chan said. "I don't know why I feel it so strongly—I've just met you—but I don't want you to go."

Minho said nothing. He was too busy being shocked that the man right here is somewhat confessing to him. It felt like a sweet dream. It was like a sweet dream. But it was a reality. It was so odd, he thought, what brought out the tenderness in people. It was never what he would have expected.

"And I feel like trusting you," he said. "I don't know why—But again, I've just met you for a while—but I do." Chan unexpectedly moves his head closer to Minho. The next thing Minho knew, was that his forehead rests against his, and that feeling of both fear and excitement was growing inside him.

Is this.. it.. he thought.

"May I?" Chan asked softly, and with a swift motion, not even an answer, but just Minho's little nod. Chan brushed his lips across his and reached for him as if he would otherwise drown. Minho almost gasped when the other boy's hand went around his.

Minho was completely unprepared, even if he knew that the other one asked for a kiss, he was completely unprepared. His brain was lit on fire, the warm set through his entire body. It felt amazing, for both of them.

When they both pulled away, their breaths were shaking. Chan, from what Minho saw, was pale, paler than before, except for the two splotches of red across his cheeks. Minho felt like those first kiss that he would end up rolling in his bed and burying his face in the pillow. So lovely and innocent. He was hiding his face with both of his hand, covering his face to hide his embarrassment.

Before Minho could say anything, the next thing he knew was that Chan, already dashed out of the shop, leaving him standing like an idiot on the middle of the room. Not that he cared about the weird look on the local people, because there was none, but just the kiss.

"Yah! What happened? Why did he just stormed out like that?" Changbin asked, oblivious about the situation. From his point of view, it looked like Minho had been drugged from his lifeguard.

Minho, grinning like an idiot, answered simply with we just kissed. Changbin looked towards the boy in front of him, staring at him as he almost screamed loudly to the whole world.

"No way! So you got his number?"

"Mhmmm—wait what did you say?" Minho finally came back to his sense when Changbin asked that question and repeated twice.

"Y-you guys kissed.. and you didn't ask for his damn numbers?"

"Changbin, I forgot, Changbin, I really forgot.," Minho shouted, and he wasn't sure if he sounded angry, mad, sad or something else. What he knew was that next, he reached for Changbin's shoulder and started whining. The only thing the younger boy could do was sigh and comfort his brother by caressing his back.

"If not, maybe we can go back here tomorrow."

"Really? Please, Changbin please just this time."

"I don't really mind, hyung and I think the boys would love to go here for the second time. And anything for my friend, of course—" He was cut off by Minho's tight hug, almost choking him at some point until he pushed him away, chuckling.

Changbin stood up straighter, "Look here, our drink is already ready, maybe we can stay here for a night while you look for the boy, does that seems fine to you?"

"Perfect, actually. You're the best, Changbin, and let's drink these so I can refresh my head."

Changbin approached the table and saw a note next to it, he thought at first it was just a bill. But little did he know, it wasn't. As he got more curious, he opened the little piece of paper, his eyes almost as wide as a kid getting their Christmas present. All he did next was shoving the letter to Minho's face so he couldn't miss the content on it.

Once the older one read it, Minho felt like collapsing, screaming, dying—everything.

The letter was written by Chan, very neatly, and very... cheesy.

———

'It's Chan, the lifeguard guy. I was and always too shy to even ask you out, maybe we can at least call each other when we can? I think that you look pretty cute, and I would love to know you more.'

'Here's my number, it would be nice if you call could a lifeguard, because I'm drowning in your beautiful eyes.'

And to end everything, at the back, was written. 'And I think I kind of like you already.'

       — Bang Chan.

———

Changbin's smile was beaming, not as much as Minho, but there was a flicker of happiness in his eyes. "It looks like someone just got the jackpot, nice for you, hyung!"

When they got back to the car, Minho's mood had changed completely since the beginning of the trip, not because they were going home, but Chan. It was a hell of a trip, but he forgets most of the negative thought. The only thing is that he can't trust Changbin for bringing any float, again.

As for the 3 rest, they were ecstatic for the older one, even if the two aren't even dating, yet. Hyunjin is already claiming himself as their future children's godfather, while Seungmin is talking about how great of an uncle he would be, just, a mess.

Nonetheless, it was still indeed a beautiful and remarkable vacation for Minho.

As for Chan, he couldn't stop thinking of Minho. Whether if the other one is really gonna call him afterward. Chan was still scared, frightened about his sudden action, like the kiss, but he was honestly proud.

He didn't even know about Minho well, yet he knew that the boy was nothing but an angel. He isn't even sure if the cute boy would use him at the end or not, yet he trusts him with his whole heart.

For him, fate is beautiful. But what he didn't know was that the boy he saved that day from a drowning incident, is the person who is gonna spend the rest of his life with.

End

[harley-quinnn]

You’re So Sane

Joker x Harley x Reader (As The Jokers daughter)

Masterlist | Requests

Prompt: Do a story about joker s and Harley's daughter going out with batman's son What will His reaction be??? 💗💗💗

{A/N} I hope you don’t mind I made Joker and Harley’s daughter the reader! I just thought it would be fun for everyone to be in that kind of position! Also, I know Damian Wayne has a whole other story out there, but Damian is the name I am using.

Warnings: Cursing. Slight violence.

“I’ll be back later!” You yell as you run down one set of stairs of your double staircase’d foyer. 

You’re wearing your shortest {F/C} skirt and your favorite top to match, which was also very revealing. This meaning, if your father caught a glimpse of you before your bounded out the door, you’d be forced to change immediately. You quicken the pace as you jump over the last step. You’ve become quite skilled in any sort of action in heels, given who your mother is.

As your hand reaches for the doorknob, you’re almost relieved. I’m gonna make it out of here and they won’t even know! When you pull the door open, you’re met with a familiar face, but not the one you expected.

He clears his throat, his eyes automatically noticing your skirt. 

“Now sweetheart, what idea of where you think you’re going wearing that do you have in that head of yours?”

Shit.

“Dad, I-”

“Change. Now.”

Your father’s overprotective, as always. You’re not sure why, considering you’ve known since a very young age just what he did for work, and how he had your mother in the same line. No one would dare mess with you, and they knew it. Most of the time, you just felt like they wanted to mess with your head.

“But look at mom!” You argue, throwing your hands in the air. She was never dressed appropriately, but at the same time, it was like age hadn’t touched either of them. You considered dumping yourself into a vat of chemicals at ACE just to preserve your face.

“What about your mom?” He snarls, and you noticed the anger in his eyes already. Of course, saying anything about his Harley Quinn set him off, and suddenly you recoil. Shoulder slumped, you sigh and turn around.

“Yes sir..” Rolling your eyes after you’ve turned around, you head back up the stairs. It wasn’t long after you passed the fourth step when he spoke again.

“You’re not going anywhere, tonight. Not after that little comment.”

You curtly turn around, mouth open and ready to argue. All he has to do is lift a finger before you scream and stomp up the rest of the stairs.

“Love you, sweetie!” He calls out after you as you storm down the hall back to your room. His tone was obviously sarcastic, and you could hear the sly grin all over his words. It only furthered your own anger as you slammed the door behind you.

“The king and queen of crime and here I am getting grilled for fucking skirt!” You say, plopping back onto your bed as you drag your hands down either side of your face.

Now what..

Glancing outside of your window, you notice it’s a perfectly good night. You sigh, trying not to let your being upset get the better of you. You were supposed to be meeting your boyfriend at the park a few blocks away, but now, you had no idea what to do. It’s not like you could really explain it to your parents. They had no idea you even had friends, let alone a boyfriend, and you honestly liked it that way. You sit up straight on your plush bed, your black comforter seeming a bit more beckoning than usual. Your {E/C} eyes glance around the room as you think of an idea. Sneaking out won’t work, because they’d definitely find out..

Oh!

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ri-

“{Y/N}? Where are you?”

“Damian! Hey, um, so, I got in trouble.. But can you come over?”

“You’re in trouble.. But you want me to come.. No.”

“Ugh, come on, baby. Why do you always gotta be the good guy?”

You sigh, falling face first back onto the bed with your phone in your hand.

“Please,” you mumble through the blankets.

There was a slight hesitation on the phone before he spoke again.

“How would I even get in?” Bingo.

You pop back upright, your smile widening just the same way as your moms. 

“My window. It’s open, you'd just have to climb in.”

“Oh god. You know this is just because I love you,” he says, completely unenthusiastic.

You can’t help but squeal in excitement, bouncing on the bed slightly.

“I love you, too! See you soon!”

You hang up, not giving him any time to change his mind. This plan was going to be perfect. Your parents never barged into your room, and as long as you answered when they called out for you, they wouldn't suspect a thing. You’ve never done this before, but you’re sure it’ll go off without a hitch. 

There’s excitement in the air as you rush around your room, tidying it up and lighting the candles you had. Unlike your parents, you still had your wits about you. It got a little hard to handle from time to time, but you knew they meant well. Well.. At least towards you. You grew up watching your dad come home soaked in blood and your mom right behind him, helping him slide out of his clothing so she could clean it in a hurry. Other times, they just went straight to their room. You assumed to do things... you wouldn't want to know of.

The last candle is lit and you turn on your large flat screen, a gracious gift your father brought home one night. You assumed it was stolen, but who were you to ask questions? He thought about you on a heist and it made your heart swell with joy. 

You change it to Netflix, hoping to binge on {F/S} with him all night once he made his way through your window. You’d never really been to his house before, and he’d never been to yours. Both of your parents were a little on the weird side according to the other, so you vowed never to bring each other home unless you got married. You were breaking this rule now, but as long as he didn’t know who they were, you’d be just fine. 

It wasn’t that you were ashamed at all, you just knew your dear mom and dad were hard to take in, especially to such a normal kid like Damian. You liked him too much to scare him away, or give him a heart attack at the sight of them. You were nothing like them, most of the time, anyway. You didn’t want to taint your own image of normalcy that you’d worked so hard on your whole life.

A few minutes passed and you heard commotion at your window. You scurried over to it, helping him in. Unable to carry his weight, he hit the floor with a thud.

“Sorry,” you said before poking your head out of the window, scanning the backyard for any indication that anyone had seen him. Thankfully, your father let his goons loose early, so no one was monitoring the property.

Brushing himself off as he stood up, you jumped for joy, clapping your hands and closing the window a bit more. 

“I’m so happy to see you!” You throw your arms around him, planting a sweet kiss on his lips and pushing his shaggy hair back.

“I’m happy to see you, {Y/N},” he said. “So why is my girl in trouble?”

You roll your eyes, replaying the whole thing in your head.

“I was so close to freedom!” you say painfully, “And then my dad caught sight of my skirt.”

His eyes immediately become fixed on your skirt, and he gulps softly.

“I can see why.”

You smirk, lightly slapping his shoulder. 

“But since I won’t be going anywhere...” You slide out of your skirt, kicking it aside and moving to your dresser to grab a t-shirt. He watches as you walk around in nothing but your top and {F/C} panties, quickly slapping your ass as you walk by.

You giggle, removing your shirt and slipping on the oversized t-shirt. You were a tease by nature, something that you’re positive you got from your mother.

“That’s better,” you say, turning around and moving towards the bed, grabbing his hands on the way and pulling him with you. You both fall back onto it and you roll over, locking your arm and leg around him in a hug.

“I got Netflix. We can watch {F/S} and do whatever you want.”

He smirks at you, his large hand gently brushing some {H/C} hair from your face. “Your room is huge. So much room for.. activities.”

You laugh at his movie reference and roll back over, looking up at the ceiling.

“Yeah, my parents have had this place forever. This used to be a game room.”

You think about what it must’ve been like before they changed it into your nursery, and eventually into your own space.

“You never told me you were rich,” he jokes, nudging your shoulder.

“You have no ide-”

“{Y/N}!”

The shrill call of your mother seems to stop your heart the moment you hear it, and you can see in his face that he’s nervous too. You hold each others gaze for just a second before you leap off the bed, smoothing out your hair and shirt. You crack open the door of your room just enough so you can be seen, stepping out of it and closing the door behind you.

“Yes?”

“You need ta’.. Are you goin’ ta bed so soon?”

“It’s almost midnight, mother. Of course I am.”

Harley rolls her eyes and scoffs. “An’ ya want me ta’ believe that on what planet?”

“Krypton,” you say. “What do you want, mom?”

“Your father told me ya wanted ta’ go out in that skirt I got ya, an’ I convinced him ta’ let ya’ go, as long as ya don't wear it.”

You stay quiet. If you had only waited a little while longer you’d be able to go out. But you notice Frost walking behind her now, and know there’s no way you’ll be able to leave and get Damian out of here too.

“Give me skirt, or give me death,” you say, dragging your thumb across your neck dramatically.

“That can be arranged, ya know,” she jokes. “Ya can stay home then! Sheesh, I tried.” “I just don’t feel like going anywhere anymore. He killed it.”

“As he does with most things,” she swoons, and you gag. 

“I’ll be in my room.”

“Sleep tight, honey,” she says, knowing full well you’re going to be up all night, anyway.

It’s like you got away with murder in your own right when you walk back in and close the door behind you. Damian is already propped up on your bed with {F/S} previewing on the queue.

"Where were we?" You ask, slinking towards the bed and sliding onto it again.

His arms instinctively wrap around you and he plays the show. For just a moment, you feel normal. The rest of the world melts away, and it's just the two of you. You have no weird enormous house, there is no crazy parents, just you, and... Wait.

"Hey.. Question."

"Ask away, babe," he says, calm and collected, and completely unaware of what you were about to ask.

"Do your parents know about us?"

Damian shifts in his spot on the bed, unsure of whether or not his answer would make you upset. He hesitates before responding, and you're already assuming they don't. It's okay, you think, I mean, I would never tell my parents. But.. my parents are crime lords. His..?

You begin to feel hurt. Maybe your facade of normalcy hasn't been holding up as well as you thought. Did he know? He couldn't have known.. Maybe he's not serious about me? Well, we’re still so young, why should he be.. The questions ran in your mind over and over.

"It's just that.." he starts. "My parents are a little... strange."

You can't help but laugh. "Your parents?"

He looks at you, confusion on his features now.

Okay, maybe he doesn't know.

"I mean, everyone's parents are a little weird," you say, trying to cover up your little mistake.

"I guess so.. I mean, my dads never home and my mom always gone, too. There's not much to meet."

You empathize with him immediately. You knew what it was like to have your parents gone all the time, and to feel like you couldn't let anyone see or know who they were. In everyone else’s eyes, you were essentially an orphan, and have been your whole life.

"I get that," you say. "But you shouldn't feel so bad about it. I know what thats like too, sort of.. I’m sure they’re just fine."

Maybe you should take your own advice, you think.

“You don’t get it, babe. It’s not something I can explain away.”

Your eyes narrow now, and you can’t hide the slight pang of anger surfacing. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t get it?” You say, sitting up straight and suddenly sounding far too defensive for your own good.

He immediately reaches over and pulls your {B/T} frame close to his, a smile on his face. He always thought you were cute you were mad, and his soft touch brings you back to earth. Sighing, you collapse back into his arms.

“I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it.”

He kisses the top of your head and you faintly hear his stomach rumble. Being the wonderful girlfriend you are, you look up at him and ask the inevitable.

“Hungry?”

“I’m starving!” He laughs, “I was going to take you to that little pizza joint once you got to the park, but somebody had to get themselves in trouble..”

You crack a grin, shrugging. “I wanted to give you a little something to look at, maybe be a little grateful!” 

You grab a throw pillow and smack him in the face with it, giggling as he takes it from you and smacks you back.

“Okay, okay!” You laugh, I surrender! How about a treaty written in popcorn?”

He stops, holding the pillow above you as he pretends to ponder over your offer.

“Hmm.. I accept your offer, Lady {Y/N}.”

You grin and grab his hand, pulling him back off of the bed and to the door. Cracking it slightly, you peek out into what’s now darkness and silence.

“The coast is clear, I think. We just have to be very, very quiet,” you say, turning to him for a response. 

Damian nods his head and gestures zipping his lips. 

Opening your door a little further, you tighten your grip around his hand and run for it on your tip toes to insure silence. You stop behind a large plant in the open foyers hallway, peeking towards your parents shut door. You can see the television light from under their double doors and hear your father laughing at what you assumed would be the news of whatever dastardly deed he committed tonight. 

Another dash down the stairs and you’re both scurrying across the floor and towards the kitchen. 

“Your house is huge,” he whispers loudly, almost as though he were relieved about it. You weren’t sure how to take that as you made your way into the kitchen with him in tow.

“Shh! But thanks..” You whisper back, heading swiftly for the popcorn and then to the microwave. 

As quiet as humanly possible, you open the microwave door and place the popcorn on the turntable. After a few seconds, it begins to pop.

“Popcorn isn’t quite helping us stay quiet, {Y/N},” he teases.

The giggle is uncontrollable as you realize he was right. Sure, it wasn’t that loud, but every pop felt like you may as well be knocking on your parents door.

Damian grabs your hands and playfully ballroom dances with you in the light of the microwave, the smell of butter filling the air. You both laugh softly as he twirls you to the imaginary music in your makeshift spotlight.

Flick.

You pull away from each other faster than lightning, your eyes immediately on the one person you wished you didn’t even know right now.

“What the hell is going on?” His eyes move to your legs before rolling towards the ceiling. “And I was worried about a skirt.” 

Damian tenses at the sight of him, his whole demeanor changing into something you’ve only seen on the faces of people who despised your father.

The Joker pulls a revolver from the holster he always seemed to wear, pulling the hammer and cracking his neck. 

“You’ve got ten seconds to run, or I tell that stupid Bat just who, you’re dealing with,” your fathers voice is a low growl, a threatening kind of tone you’ve never heard before.

“Dad..” You say, stepping in front of Damian, “Don't do this, he’s a great guy, I swear!” 

Your dad holds the gun out now, and you’re hoping his aim is just behind you and not on you. Occasionally, you forget that he’s insane. You never would’ve thought he’d hurt you, but now you aren’t so sure.

“Please..” You plead, and sighs, clearly exhausted of you.

“Please, please, please. Get upstairs! You’re not whoring around with the Batman’s kid! I refuse to let my daughter sink to the level of.. Of scum!” he spits, and you wince. 

“Batman..?”

“{Y/N}, he finally says, “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner- I just had no idea you were the Jokers daughter.. You’re so.. Sane.”

Feeling slightly accomplished, you smile a little before remembering what was playing out in front of you. Noticing Damian was still standing there, facing the barrel of The Joker’s gun for you, you can’t push the feelings rushing in all at once.

“Please don’t hurt him,” you say, running up to your dad, “I love him,” you choke out. 

You’ve been saying this to each other for a while now, but to overwhelm your dad all at once with it, this wasn't the idea you had in mind. One hell of a first meeting, but it seems they’d already met before, somehow. 

Your father’s eyes shut, and his free hand’s thumb and index finger grip the bridge of his nose.

“God, damn it.”

You brace yourself for whatever may come next as your mom enters the kitchen.

“J! What are ya doin’ ta’ {Y/N}?!” She says, stepping in front of you now, and then noticing Damian. 

“Oh, Bats’ kid? What tha’ hell were ya thinking’?!”

“Mom,” you whine, on the cusp of a breakdown of your own. 

Damian stays silent, not wanting to make things worse for you and still trying to grasp that he’s been dating his father’s worst enemies daughter. His own head was spinning as he stood firm in his position, now staring at Harley, too.

“I had no idea,” you say, quietly, your eyes closing painfully for a second before you step back over to Damian. “But I don’t care.” You latch an arm around his, and you can feel him tense even further. 

“Put tha’ gun down, J!” Harley yells, and he drops his arm. You can tell even your father was at a loss for moment.

“How long?” She asks, turning to face you now. “Since middle school..” 

You can hear your father curse under his breath, and your mothers eyes widen before her face twists into an expression of hurt and acceptance. 

“Do ya love my daughter, Damian?” She asks, almost sarcastically now. 

“I do,” he says. In this moment, he seems to be the bravest man on planet earth, maybe even the universe.

Your fathers hands clench into fists and bears his metal teeth. Not even having to look at him, Harley holds her arm out and across his chest to contain him.

“Well.. I suppose ya aren’t bad lookin’..” “Harley! He’s.. He’s.. Bat’s blood!” Your father snaps, gripping into her arm now and pushing it aside, almost knocking her off of her feet. 

“You tear them apart an’ you’ll have ta deal with me,” you mom says, always the one who was on your side, and on loves side. She had dealt with the whole world against her relationship with your father, and you knew that played a big role in all of this with your relationship now.

Your eyes widen in concern as The Joker begins to storm closer to the both of you. Leaning down just slightly, he peers into Damian’s eyes, the gun resting against his chest and over his slightly racing heart.

“You even think of hurting my little girl, and you’ll get a nice silver bullet, right where you hurt her..”

[risingphoenix87]

Awesomely bad songs? I think not... (Reposted from February with edits

Hey kids! Your Auntie Phoenix is bored, and rather than something constructive, I thought I’d kill my time with this. So I’ve been rewatching some of those old VH-1 lists I used to watch in my teen years (many…eons ago). And one such list was one they compiled with the now-defunct Blender Magazine of the 50 Most Awesomely Bad Songs Ever.

Yeah…there are a handful of actually bad songs on this list and then…yeah, let me just give you my thoughts.

(You can watch the video here if you care to- https://youtu.be/pMBSGFOqiAI)

50. Corey Hart - I Wear My Sunglasses at Night: It’s…fine. It’s kind of weird how the Z-list commentators just focused on the concept of wearing sunglasses at night…not actually proving this song is bad.

49. Puff Daddy f/ Faith Evans & 112 - I’ll Be Missing You: This is…just uncomfortable. Yeah, he took a creepy-as-fuck stalker song and turned it into a loving tribute to a friend. And they actually had the gall to say the sample was more shameless than Vanilla Ice (oh, we’ll get to HIM later).

48. Michael Bolton - Can I Touch You There: It’s fine. Not my thing, but it’s okay.

(by the way, the bald commentator guy is trying waaaayyy too much to sound like Lewis Black…except he’s not funny)

47. Bobby Brown w/Whitney Houston - Something in Common: Yeah, it’s…uncomfortable.

46. Spin Doctors - Two Princes: Oh, step off, you music snobs! This song is fun!

45. Ruben Studdard - I’m Sorry: I remember this song being on the radio all the time when I was in high school; I never thought it was a bad song. I wonder what happened to him…

44. Billy Joel - We Didn’t Start The Fire: What are these people smoking?

(yeah, the cola wars line wasn’t what made him lose it, smartass)

43. Master P feat. Silkk, Fiend, Mia-x & Mystikal - Make Em Say Uhh: Yeah…not good…that sound is the one I make when I’m getting PMS boob pain.

42. Rednex - Cotton Eye Joe: Yes, this song sucks.

41. JC Chasez - Some Girls (Dance with Women): Yeah, this song is trash.

40. 4 Non Blondes - What’s Up: This song is GRATING.

39. Snow - Informer: More trash.

38. Ja Rule - Mesmerize: None of them actually proved this song was bad (also funny that the announcer called Ja Rule “wussy,” like she’d ever say that to his face and not clutch her purse, running to the other side of the street). And to the Karen who made cracks about Ashanti swooning over the lyric “I got a fetish for fucking you with your skirt off...” um, some girls and fems are into that...not naming names...

37. Bette Midler - From a Distance: Ms. Midler’s music isn’t for me…but it’s fine…and don’t most theists consider God watching them a comforting thought rather than a voyeuristic one?

36. Color Me Badd - I Wanna Sex You Up: Again, it’s fine. A nice summer song.

35. Don Johnson - Heartbeat: It’s nothing that bad. It’s kind of the ‘80s embodied in a song (esp. with the music video).

34. Crazytown - Butterfly: This song is awful…and I adore it.

33. Jennifer Lopez - Jenny from the Block: All these people did was whinge about how dishonest the song was. I’m not honestly bothered by that; I don’t care that Jennifer Lopez doesn’t bring old friends from the Bronx to her mansions or yachts (because, apparently unlike these commentators, I’m not a child who lives with her head up her own ass). The song is fun enough with a good beat.

32. Mr. Mister - Broken Wings: Another classic piece of the ‘80s. Also funny how they whine about this being a stalker song after sucking off The Police’s “Every Breath You Take” near the top of the hour.

31. R. Kelly - You Remind Me of Something: I agree. #MuteRKelly

30. Nelly - Pimp Juice: Not my thing; Nelly has better songs than this (although the comments are fucking cringy).

29. Meatloaf - I Would Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t do That): Again, I ask, WHAT ARE THESE PEOPLE SMOKING???!! And...he DOES say what he won’t do for love; the way his lover made him feel.

28. Rick Astley - Never Gonna Give You Up: This song was bad before meme culture bled it dry.

27. Wreckx-N-Effect - Rump Shaker: Not for me.

26. Bryan Adams - The Only Thing That Looks Good on Me is You: This song sounds like a pick-up line Will Smith would say on Fresh-Prince; Bryan Adams is better than this.

25. Michael Jackson - You Rock My World: It’s honestly fine, but Michael Jackson has done better.

24. Phil Collins - Sussudio: Same; not Phi Collins’ best, but not bad.

23. Sisqo - The Thong Song: Another guilty pleasure (though, TBH, the comments here were kinda funny).

22. Lionel Richie - Dancing on the Ceiling: Not great, but the comments about his no-talent brat of a daughter are already dated AF (does anyone even remember her?).

21. Rembrandts - I’ll Be There For You: It’s from a TV show…so it’s bad? Plenty of TV theme songs are fun to listen to (this one included, and I don’t think I’ve seen more than two episodes of the show).

Also, Gen X “cynicism is good/happiness is for babies” attitude is played out (it was played out in 2004, too; we get it, y’all are bitter because no one knows who you are).

20. Toby Keith - Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue: Yeah, this song is jingoistic, warmongering crap.

19. Chicago - You’re the Inspiration: It’s nice enough. These damn music snobs.

18. Hammer - Pumps and a Bump: Not good…not as bad as the abomination that was Hammerman, but…not good.

17. Right Said Fred - I’m Too Sexy: It’s supposed to be a cheesy novelty song.

16. Europe - The Final Countdown: That synth line is great, and the song is classic. These damn music snobs.

15. Crash Test Dummies - Mmm, Mmm, Mmm, Mmm: WHAT ARE THESE PEOPLE…oh, forget it. Point is this is a great song and they in no way proved it was bad. They just bitched about the chorus (how about analyzing the lyrics, since y’all are great music experts).

14. Will Smith - Will2K: Again, didn’t prove the song was bad. Just whined that Will Smith has an ego and it sampled a Clash song. Um…grow the fuck up maybe? (Seriously, the fact that people get so butthurt over celebrities having an ego, and seemingly don’t get that sampling is a thing in rap) I actually only heard the song for the first time a few months ago, and it’s BOMB.

13. Aqua - Barbie Girl: Congrats, one of the few actually bad songs on the list.

12. New Kids on the block - Hangin’ Tough: Teenage boys pretending to be badass? Alert the media. It’s fun, has a nostalgic feel.

11. Gerardo - Rico Suave: Yeah, not good (also, Weird Al did do a parody: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U7zJdwEsWmU; pretty hilarious).

10. Huey Lewis & the News - Heart of Rock-n-Roll: This song is fun, and the fact that it was anywhere near the top 10 is a fucking joke.

9. Bobby McFerrin - Don’t Worry Be Happy: In fairness, Bobby McFerrin got sick of this song to the point of not performing it anymore.

(The commentators are pretty annoying bitching about a cappella music, a lot of which is really good)

8. Ricky Martin - She Bangs: Yeah, this song isn’t great…but Top 10 worst songs-bad? No…

7. Eddie Murphy - Party All the Time: This song is fun and has a good beat. Buncha stick-in-the-mud…

6. Deep Blue Something - Breakfast at Tiffany’s: Oh…no. You don’t touch this song! (Yes, the song is unenthusiastic. That’s the entire point; it’s about a couple who has no basis for their relationship except their love of this one movie, and thus the relationship isn’t strong enough to last).

5. Vanilla Ice - Ice Ice Baby: Yay, you got another actually bad song for the list!

4. Limp Bizkit - Rollin’: Yeah, the lyrics are shit and the song is bad…and I listen to it at least twice a week. It’s a major guilty pleasure (and fun to listen to when riding a scooter cart at the store).

3. Wang Chung - Everybody Have Fun Tonight: Another fun song; y’all have no taste.

2. Billy Ray Cyrus - Achy Breaky Heart: Okay, you found another actually bad song.

1.    Starship - We Built This City: WTF??? This is a good song!

So…a list with only a handful of actually bad songs…yeah.

Thank you!